Page 83 of A Step You Shouldn't Take

“What do you think I’ve spent the past two years, four months, and twenty-six days doing? There’s nothing. Nobody’s seen her. And you know why? It’s because some fucker with an English accent’s been going around pretending to be E Cullen.”

“You really believe that? Then find me proof.”

This time, it was Kim who spoke through her tears. “You want proof? Fine, I’ll give you proof. Drive me anywhere in the state. Heck, the country. Put me on any street, and I’ll tell you who was killed there and how. Then you can look up all the hard evidence you love so much and find out I’m telling the truth.”

“Is she for real?” Wyatt asked me.

“What do you expect me to do? Channel her answer? Why don’t you ask her?”

“Uh…” Seeing him at a loss for words was strangely satisfying. “Okay, you truly think you can do this? Get in the car.”

“I’ll just fetch my purse.”

“Kim, you don’t have to go through with this. If Wyatt doesn’t believe you, that’s his problem.”

“No, it’sourproblem. Because there’s a chance Katia’s still alive. We need all the help we can get to find Tim quickly, and Wyatt’s got access to the police computer.”

Wyatt fished around in his pocket then dangled his car keys in front of me. “You heard the lady.”

“You’ve turned into a real dick, you know that?”

“Right now, I’m a dick with a badge, so let’s go.”

***

I rode in the back seat of Wyatt’s truck with Kim as he drove around town, aimlessly it seemed. Through Bethesda, through Chevy Chase, through Silver Spring. She gripped my hand, unspeaking, and I wasn’t sure whether her nerves were due to a fear she might fail the test or a worry that she’d pass and her secret really would be out.

“You all right?”

She just stared at me. Okay, dumb question.

Finally, Wyatt drew to a halt outside a boarded-up house in Briggs Chaney, just past Castle Boulevard. Nice choice. Someone would have died around here for sure. He reached under his seat for his gun, and I checked mine was loaded.

“Is that really necessary?” Kim asked.

“Around here? Yeah.”

The area was slowly improving—emphasis on the slowly—but it wasn’t a place you wanted to spend much time in at night. On the plus side, we wouldn’t have to walk far before Kim found someone to talk to.

Less than a hundred yards, in fact. She stopped, and I bumped into her.

“Here?”

“You’re standing on his foot.”

I stepped back while Wyatt rolled his eyes. Let him. He’d have to change his opinion within the hour, and I was kind of looking forward to rubbing his face in it. With Kim muttering away, I positioned myself so it appeared to any passers-by that we were having a casual conversation, but I made sure to keep an eye on what was going on around us. Right now, that was a drug deal less than fifty feet away, but if they didn’t bother us, we wouldn’t bother them.

“Kamal Kabede,” Kim said, fixing her gaze on Wyatt. “Twenty-four years old, originally from Ethiopia. In March six years ago, a man by the name of Negus Johnson stabbed him once in the chest over there by the abandoned warehouse, and he made it this far before he died. Negus is a pimp, and he blackmailed Kamal’s girlfriend into working for him, so they had words, and Kamal’s death was the result. What is it with men? Why do they think they can own women?” She turned back to the empty space in front of her. “I’ll try to find out about your sister, okay? Thanks for talking to me.”

“Whatabouthis sister?” I asked.

“He gave her money to move out of town. He wants to know if she made it.”

“I’ll check into it.”

“And Negus Johnson is still around. Kamal saw him last week. He should be in jail.”

I patted Wyatt on the shoulder. “That one’s down to you, buddy. Do you need any other details, or can we go?”

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