much of the world and he was old before his time.
“Detective Wright.” Rico reached for her hand as soon as she stepped onto the porch. “Would you like something to drink? A cup of coffee maybe?”
Olivia smiled. Rico always offered a cup of coffee, regardless of when they met. His elderly aunt had raised him—a woman who had gone blind and partially deaf by the time the boy turned five—and now he was trying to hammer together a veneer of respectability. Apparently, somewhere along the line, he’d picked up the notion that a good host always offered coffee.
“No, thank you. I’m good.”
“Come inside where it’s cool. We’re going to have choir practice in an hour…”
“It won’t take that long,” Olivia assured him. “I just have a few questions.”
“Then come into my office.”
Rico had converted a bedroom into a decent office, and she still remembered the morning he had given her the grand tour of the house-cum-church. The office had been the last stop, the crown jewel of the tour. He’d never had his own room before, and he’d been bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited for her reaction. She understood that kind of delight. Her first place of her own had been a crappy studio apartment with a toilet that ran if she didn’t jiggle the handle exactly a dozen times and a view of an adult bookstore, but she’d invited her parents over for dinner her very first night in the place and finished the night floating high. She had never been so proud.
Olivia pulled seven glossy photos out of her bag and arranged them on Rico’s desk. “Six of these girls are missing. This one,” she tapped the picture of Stacy, “was recently found. I need to know what happened to the other six, Rico. I need to know if they’re still alive.”
He stared at the photos for a long time. When he looked up at her, his brown eyes were saucers. And frightened. “No, you don’t want to get involved with this.”
“It’s a little too late for the warning. I’ve been involved since these disappearances went into Cold Cases.”
“No, this isn’t good news.”
“Why isn’t it good news?”
“Look, these girls…they’re like his special obsession or something. I was never involved with picking them up, but I know where he kept them for awhile and sometimes I’d have to keep an eye on them.”
“He was keeping them? For what?” Horrible possibilities filled her mind. Pornography, prostitution, white slavery, old-fashioned sadism . “Did he hurt them?”
Rico shook his head. “It’s not what you’re thinking. And that’s what makes it so weird . Man, he treated those girls like they were princesses. I think a few of them were starting to like it. ‘Rico, I need this.’ Or ‘Rico, take me to the mall.’”
She nearly swallowed her tongue. “To the mall . He was allowing these girls to go to the mall?”
“Not all of them. Just one or two who seemed to be happy to be there. He never planned to hurt them. But I think they’re probably gone now.”
“Gone?”
“Look, I heard on the street that he was unloading all his real estate. The first thing on the market was his place in Twenty-Nine Palms. That’s where he was keeping all the girls. So either he moved them or…”
“Or he unloaded them, as well.”
“Right.”
“But why is he getting rid of all his real estate? That’s part of his cover.”
Rico shrugged. “I can’t speculate. I’ve been out of there for two years now and he was already a bit crazy when I left.”
Olivia frowned. Nothing made sense. What was Gabriel playing at? Everything she’d learned about him showed him to be damned careful . Isaac and others had been trying to bring him down for years and now she had a half-dozen fingers pointing in Gabriel’s direction.
“Crazy how?”
“Just crazy. Obsessed.”
“You keep using that word. What is he obsessed with?”
Rico shook his head and folded his arms. Every line of his body screamed he was
“Detective Wright.” Rico reached for her hand as soon as she stepped onto the porch. “Would you like something to drink? A cup of coffee maybe?”
Olivia smiled. Rico always offered a cup of coffee, regardless of when they met. His elderly aunt had raised him—a woman who had gone blind and partially deaf by the time the boy turned five—and now he was trying to hammer together a veneer of respectability. Apparently, somewhere along the line, he’d picked up the notion that a good host always offered coffee.
“No, thank you. I’m good.”
“Come inside where it’s cool. We’re going to have choir practice in an hour…”
“It won’t take that long,” Olivia assured him. “I just have a few questions.”
“Then come into my office.”
Rico had converted a bedroom into a decent office, and she still remembered the morning he had given her the grand tour of the house-cum-church. The office had been the last stop, the crown jewel of the tour. He’d never had his own room before, and he’d been bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited for her reaction. She understood that kind of delight. Her first place of her own had been a crappy studio apartment with a toilet that ran if she didn’t jiggle the handle exactly a dozen times and a view of an adult bookstore, but she’d invited her parents over for dinner her very first night in the place and finished the night floating high. She had never been so proud.
Olivia pulled seven glossy photos out of her bag and arranged them on Rico’s desk. “Six of these girls are missing. This one,” she tapped the picture of Stacy, “was recently found. I need to know what happened to the other six, Rico. I need to know if they’re still alive.”
He stared at the photos for a long time. When he looked up at her, his brown eyes were saucers. And frightened. “No, you don’t want to get involved with this.”
“It’s a little too late for the warning. I’ve been involved since these disappearances went into Cold Cases.”
“No, this isn’t good news.”
“Why isn’t it good news?”
“Look, these girls…they’re like his special obsession or something. I was never involved with picking them up, but I know where he kept them for awhile and sometimes I’d have to keep an eye on them.”
“He was keeping them? For what?” Horrible possibilities filled her mind. Pornography, prostitution, white slavery, old-fashioned sadism . “Did he hurt them?”
Rico shook his head. “It’s not what you’re thinking. And that’s what makes it so weird . Man, he treated those girls like they were princesses. I think a few of them were starting to like it. ‘Rico, I need this.’ Or ‘Rico, take me to the mall.’”
She nearly swallowed her tongue. “To the mall . He was allowing these girls to go to the mall?”
“Not all of them. Just one or two who seemed to be happy to be there. He never planned to hurt them. But I think they’re probably gone now.”
“Gone?”
“Look, I heard on the street that he was unloading all his real estate. The first thing on the market was his place in Twenty-Nine Palms. That’s where he was keeping all the girls. So either he moved them or…”
“Or he unloaded them, as well.”
“Right.”
“But why is he getting rid of all his real estate? That’s part of his cover.”
Rico shrugged. “I can’t speculate. I’ve been out of there for two years now and he was already a bit crazy when I left.”
Olivia frowned. Nothing made sense. What was Gabriel playing at? Everything she’d learned about him showed him to be damned careful . Isaac and others had been trying to bring him down for years and now she had a half-dozen fingers pointing in Gabriel’s direction.
“Crazy how?”
“Just crazy. Obsessed.”
“You keep using that word. What is he obsessed with?”
Rico shook his head and folded his arms. Every line of his body screamed he was
Similar Books
