Page 44 of Ace of Spades
“What? Why are you asking this now?” Rosie sank onto the mattress, the suitcase between them.
Taylor probably should have eased into that question, but they didn’t have much time. “Someone’s murdering prostitutes, and at the last crime scene, he left a photo of my mother, taken right after she was killed.”
When Rosie gasped, Taylor reached across the suitcase, putting her hand over Rosie’s. “We think he knows who I am, and that’s worrisome. I doubt he knows about you and the girls, but we’re not taking any chances. So you’re going to a safe house in New Jersey until this is over. The house is only a few blocks from the beach, thus the bathing suits.”
“Of course we’ll go. We can’t stay here and take a chance they’ll be harmed. You need to come with us until this is over.”
In Rosie’s eyes, she was still a little girl needing taking care of. Her foster mother preferred to believe that she sat behind a desk, answering phone calls or some such. Taylor had never disabused her of that notion. Rosie had no idea she knew how to kill a person nine different ways. Actually, more than that.
“I can’t. I’m a part of the team to catch this creep. I understand your concern, but this is my job, Rosie. You didn’t answer my question.”
Rosie deflated right before her eyes. “I knew you would say that. Why couldn’t you grow up to be a schoolteacher or something that wasn’t dangerous like this job?”
Taylor chuckled. “These days, being a schoolteacher isn’t all that safe.” She squeezed Rosie’s hand. “Stop avoiding my question. You know something.”
“I don’t think it’s anything that will help in your investigation, but there was a man she told me about right before ... You know, before.” Tears pooled in Rosie’s eyes.
Raisa Collins and Rosie had been best friends, both prostitutes until the day her mother was killed. On that horrid day, Rosie’s world had changed as much as Taylor’s had. She’d changed her life to raise Raisa’s daughter. As far as Taylor knew, Rosie had never had another man in her bed. If not for this woman, Taylor firmly believed she would have gotten lost in the system.
She pushed the suitcase behind them, scooting next to her savior. “What did she say, Rosie?”
“That there was a man who scared her. He was one of her johns, but then he started getting jealous of the other men. He asked her to marry him, told her he would save her from the life she led.”
“Did you ever see him?”
“No. Right before she died, she told him to leave her alone. She said he got angry when she refused to see him anymore.”
“Did she tell you his name?”
“Not that I remember.”
That was unfortunate. A name right now would be handy. Those early years with her mother were fuzzy. For the life of her, she couldn’t remember her mother’s face, although Rosie often said Taylor looked just like Raisa.
She did remember that they lived in a room in a run-down building. Whenever her mother went out for the night, she made sure the door was locked behind her, always reminding Taylor not to open it for anyone. She couldn’t think of one single time her mother had brought a man home to their room. But the night her mother was killed was a black hole in her mind.
“We’ve never talked about what happened that night, Rosie. I’ve read the police reports, what little there are of them, but I don’t remember anything.” Had she seen her mother murdered and blocked it out?
“Oh,chica, it’s best that you don’t know.”
“Possibly, but with what’s happening, I do need to hear what you saw. There might be something that can help us.” She squeezed Rosie’s hand. “I know it’s hard, but take me through that night.” At her foster mother’s hesitation, she said, “It’s important. Just start from the beginning. Were you working that night?”
“Yes, we both were. We walked out together. Raisa was seeing one of her regulars. I didn’t have anyone scheduled, so I headed to my usual corner.”
“Do you know who her regular was and where they met?”
“I only knew his first name. Paul. There was a little motel where he’d reserve a room, but it was torn down years ago. I don’t see how any of this can help you.”
“Maybe, maybe not. What time did you come home?”
“Around midnight. I was walking down the hall to my room when I heard you screaming. Your door was cracked open, and I knew that wasn’t right. Your mother was very protective of you. I ... I ...” Rosie covered her face with her hands. “If only I’d come home sooner.”
Taylor put her arm around Rosie’s shoulder. “You can’t blame yourself. So, you came in to see why I was screaming?”
“I started to, but I had a bad feeling. I hurried into my room to get the baseball bat I kept. You know, just in case. We didn’t live in such a good neighborhood, so it was best to have a weapon handy. Your mother kept one next to her door, too.”
“I remember.” Funny that she’d forgotten that until now. “And then what happened?”
A visible shudder passed through Rosie. “The first thing I saw ... You don’t want to hear this. You don’t need to.”
