Finch turned back to his keyboard. Elisa Holland. There was so much information about her online. An appalling amount of information. Perhaps when Christine was done covering human reproduction and safe sex, she could have a word with the girl about basic privacy settings.
Maybe, Finch amended mentally, that conversation could wait for another day.
He went over Elisa’s various posts, and then explored the much more conservative postings of her parents. Finally he turned to her younger sister. Amelia used social media widely as well, but she was a good deal more reserved than her older sister. Her last post was a video, and it was titled ‘For Elisa, wherever you are’. He hesitated, than clicked through.
The video was clearly made with a webcam, and it was simple, just a young girl looking directly at her computer. She resembled Elisa sister, but she was normal weight rather than skeletal, and she was obviously younger.
“Hey, Lis,” the girl in the video said, “I think I know where you are and I promise I won’t tell Mom and Dad. But nobody’s heard from you since you left and I’m really scared for you. If you could just call me, or call one of your friends and have them call me or shoot me a text of whatever. Just find some way to let me know you’re okay?” The girl hesitated, looked around. “It really sucks around here without you. Mom cries all the time, and Dad never talks at all. He just has that look he gets, you know the one, the skinny eyes look.” She demonstrated. “I mean, I know you want to be with him, and it sucks that Mom and Dad won’t let you date him, but … I miss you so much. I just … nothing’s the same, Lis. Nothing’s any fun. Maybe if you just talked to them one more time, you know, now that they know you’re serious, maybe they’d change their minds? I really wish you’d come home. I worry about you all the time. And Mom and Dad do, too. Look, I know you want to be with him. I get that. But please could you just find some way to let me know you’re okay? Please? I am so scared, Lis. I’m scared I’ll never see you again. Just … please?”
The video ended. Finch sat back, took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes. He bookmarked the video; it might be useful later. He checked Christine’s phone, but it was still off. He thought about trying to track her camera-to-camera, then discarded the idea. It would be time-consuming, and his attention was better spent in other areas. Elisa Holland was probably unhappy with Christine right now, but she was almost certainly safe.
He turned back to the list of credit card victims.
***
“Finch?”
“I’m here, Mr. Reese.”
“I’ve checked both of the hotels. They haven’t seen Clay lately.”
“Miss Holland did say they planned not to return to any place they’d been to together.”
“True,” Reese answered. “But I don’t know if I believe he’s bright enough to actually stick to that plan. Any word from the girls?”
“No. But Miss Fitzgerald did use her new credit card at the Pemberly Women’s Clinic. That was half an hour ago. If they went straight home, they should be there soon.”
“Bets on whether Christine turns her phone back on?”
Finch sighed. “I’m not entirely sure I want her to.”
“I hear that.”
Five minutes later, the feed came back on. They both heard Lis shout, “I hate you!” Then a door slammed.
“Okay,” Christine answered calmly. There was a bit of filler noise, and then she said, “Zelda, unlock the bathroom door.”
Lis shouted, “What are you doing? Leave me alone!”
“Yeah, yeah. While you’re locked in here, take a shower. Here’s pajamas. You can sleep in the spare room across the hall. You can lock that door, too, and I can unlock it any time I want to. Clear?”
“Fuck you!”
“Uh-huh.” The door closed again, softly this time.
“Well?” Finch asked.
“Well what?” Christine answered.
“Do we still have one problem child, or do we actually have two?”
“Oh.” She made a dismissive little noise. “To paraphrase the song, we got ninety-nine problems, but a baby ain’t one. I could have told you that the minute I saw her. The idiot boy is right; she doesn’t have enough body fat to get pregnant.”
“That’s good, I suppose.”
“But anybody with a pulse can incubate an STD.”
“And is she doing so?”
“Remarkably, no. Well, not that we know of yet. The blood tests will take a few days. And of course there’s the six-month HIV incubation period. Which she is totally flipping out about.”
“And appropriately so.”
“Is Mr. Reese with us?”
“I’m here,” John assured her.
“I need you to do me a favor.”
“Anything.”
“When you catch up with the idiot boy, I need you to punch him in the kidneys for me.”
Reese smiled briefly. “Just once?”
“Until your arms get tired. And then ask for volunteers from the crowd.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Finch cleared his throat. “I’m not defending the young man’s behavior, but it is possible that he’s as badly misinformed about these matters as Miss Holland is.”
“Was,” Christine corrected firmly. “Believe me, Miss Holland is now fully informed. And there is no excuse for that level of ignorance in the age of Wikipedia.”
“You’re suggesting that they get their information from a site entirely generated by crowd-sourcing?”
“Don’t be a snob,” she answered. “The Wiki entries on safe sex and contraception are both comprehensive and accurate.”
“If you say so.” Finch was clearly unconvinced.
“Is there any chance,” Reese ventured, “that if I came over there she’d be in the mood to talk to me?”
“Maybe. She hates me, so she’d probably be happy to see you.”
“I’ll be along shortly. Try not to drown her before I get there.”
“No promises.” Her single-cup coffee maker sounded in the background. “Hey, Random?”
“Yes?” Finch answered.
“I don’t suppose you want to tell me this is all some elaborately-staged object lesson.”
“I would love to. But it’s not.”
“Pity.”
“Besides, you’ve already learned every lesson this scenario has to offer, haven’t you?”
“I suppose.” She sighed. “What are we going to do with this kid? She’s not smart enough to survive on the streets.”
“We’ll figure something out,” Finch promised.
“One problem at a time,” Reese added.
“Trust us,” his partner added.
“Okay,” Christine said. From her tone, she was utterly unconvinced.
***
Carter had her coat on when Fusco got back to his desk. “You headin’ out?” he asked.
“It is quitting time,” she answered, “and I am actually leaving.”
“You won’t make it to the door,” Fusco predicted.
“Watch me.”
He watched her. She was ten steps from the door when her cell phone rang. She whipped around and glared at him, but Fusco held his hands up innocently. “Not me, Carter.”
She scowled deeply and answered the phone. She didn’t say much, and the call didn’t last long. Then she put her phone away and came back to the desk.
“Pull a new case?” Fusco asked.
Carter shook her head. “That was the hospital. Your girl called it. Mrs. Antonucci just died.”
Fusco sighed. “Probably for the best.”
“Yeah.” Carter thought for a minute. “I should probably call Donnelly, let him know.”
“Better you than me. I’ll call Chri ” Scottie.” He reached for his phone, then hesitated. Carter sat down behind her desk again. They looked at each other.
“We knew this was how it would happen,” Carter said.
“Yeah,” Fusco agreed. “How come it feels this bad, then?”
“She was a good woman. You know, for a murderer.”
“I guess.” Fusco reached for his phone a second time, then stopped a second time. “You think they’re together now?”
Carter nodded. “I’m sure of it.”
“Then I guess it’s not so bad.”
His partner came up with a sad little smile, and so did Fusco. They both made their phone calls.
***
Christine let Reese into the apartment, then left them alone.
Elisa Holland was curled up in the corner of the couch, watching television. She wore a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt that were much too big for her. But she was eating from one of those microwave cups of macaroni and cheese, and there was a half-empty glass of milk beside her. Smokey was sitting on her lap.
Reese shut off the TV and sat down at the far end of the couch. Lis glared at him. The kitten immediately climbed off the girl and came to sit on him. He stroked the little creature gently; her fur was very sleek. She was four or five times bigger than she’d been when Bear found her.
He put the camera case on the couch between them. After a minute, the girl reached out and took it. “”I thought you were just … thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he answered. “I need to know where to find Clay.”
“I told you, I don’t know.”
“Did he talk about any places he went before you came to the city?”
She shook her head.
Reese resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “All right. How did you get here?”
“To the city? I took a bus.”
“Clay met you at the bus station?”
She nodded.
“How did he know you were coming?”
“I, um … I posted it to my Facebook. In code. He called my cell and I told him when I was coming.”
“Do you still have your cell phone?”
She shook her head. “We pawned it. When I first got here.”
“He took you to the camp under the bridge and things got a little rough. Then what?”
“We went to this … hotel.” She shuddered delicately. “It was gross. But I could take a shower and stuff. And there was a bed.” She stopped dead and her cheeks turned red. “But we only stayed there for one night. Then we went to another camp.”
“You couldn’t afford to stay at the hotel?”
She shook her head. Then she reconsidered. “We’d stay one night every three or four days. The rest of the time we went to other places.”
“What other places?”
“Just anywhere we could sleep.”
“What about the place across from St. Augustine?”
She hesitated; her eyes dropped away. “Sometimes.”
And that, Reese thought, is where I’m going next. It was the best lead the girl had given him. “Clay supported the two of you by picking pockets?”
Lis nodded.
“Ask her where the rest of the money went,” Finch prompted in his ear.
“Where did the rest of the money go?” Reese asked.
“What?”
Christine came out of the bedroom but stayed by the door, quiet. She’d changed into her own sleep clothes; the t-shirt and sweats she wore actually fit her. Lis didn’t notice her.
“You’re not using drugs, not drinking. You don’t eat much. Clay was stealing tourists’ wallets and selling the credit cards. But you pawned your phone and your camera, and you still didn’t have enough to stay in a dive hotel. Where did the money go?”
Lis looked at her macaroni as if it were suddenly fascinating. Or disgusting. Then she put it down. “I don’t know.”
“Lis.”
“I don’t know,” she insisted. She wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“I’m really tired.”
John looked to Christine. She shrugged. He wasn’t going to get any more out of the girl. Christine might, later. Maybe. “I made up the daybed,” she said.
Lis looked over at her. “Okay.”
She didn’t really want to go to bed, John knew. She just wanted to get away from him. The money question had her upset, scared. Maybe Clay had a gambling problem they hadn’t uncovered, or some other vice. But whatever it was, the teenager wasn’t going to give it up without a lot more pressure than he was willing to apply right now. “All right. I’m going. Call me if you think of anything else. It’s important that I find him as soon as possible.”
She nodded, but she still wouldn’t look at him.
“Christine,” Finch said to both of them as Reese made his way to the door, “offer the girl a laptop. Let’s see if her e-mails will take us anywhere.”
“Hmmm,” she agreed under her breath.
Reese went down to his car ” her car ” and listened as he drove. Christine made the offer sound casual. Lis hesitated; obviously Clay had told her to stay off the internet. But the lure was too strong. In about ten minutes she changed her mind.
Christine let the girl take the laptop to the spare bedroom. It gave the teenager an illusion of privacy.
Finch, of course, followed her every keystroke.
It wasn’t really fair, Reese thought. But she was safe, clean, fed. There were a lot of unfair things that happened to pretty young girls on the streets, and Elisa Holland had been spared almost all of them. A little electronic eavesdropping wasn’t going to hurt her. And it might help her boyfriend a great deal.
***
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