Save Her Child by CJ Lyons (best historical biographies txt) 📗

me why you’re upset,” Leah said, even as Luka cringed at Emily’s outburst. Nate buried all his emotions, so Luka hadn’t yet needed to deal with a tantrum. Emily’s face was dark and twisted, a storm ready to break, making him hope he never had to.

Instead of talking to Leah, Emily kicked out furiously, tears streaming from her face. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!”

Sixteen

A quick check of the Mustang’s registration revealed that Macy’s new boyfriend-slash-pimp, an eighteen-year-old named Darius Young, had no outstanding warrants and neither did Macy. Which limited Harper’s options as far as curtailing their activities so that she could speak to Macy again. The Bill of Rights was pesky that way, keeping Harper from doing whatever she wanted to in order to close a case.

As she walked the streets surrounding Lily’s death scene, trying in vain to get anyone to talk about Lily, Harper was well aware that it was more than the Constitution limiting her efforts. These kids who made their living on the streets—and they were all young enough to be considered kids—risked their lives simply by talking to Harper. She thought of the girls she’d tempted with her mom’s cooking and hoped they hadn’t suffered for speaking out, even if they were only sharing tidbits of gossip.

Feeling drained by the heat and the fact that she’d learned nothing new that would help her locate Lily’s family or her killer, she decided to try one more avenue of information—her brother Jonah, who ran Holy Redeemer’s outreach programs.

Jonah’s mission was located in an old hotel building near the wharf, only a few blocks from the Kingston Towers where Lily’s body had been found. A hundred years ago, the Pierhouse had catered to itinerant dock workers, and with each subsequent generation of owners it had fallen into more disrepair until finally the last owners had donated the building to Holy Redeemer as a tax write-off. Jonah had brought it up to code and now the building, rechristened the Pierhouse Mission, functioned as soup kitchen, food bank, day care, counseling clinic, and homeless shelter.

Harper parked behind the building and entered through the rear entrance. Clouds of steam floated past her as soon as she opened the door to the sweltering hot kitchen. Steaming vats of vegetables were being stirred by volunteers clad in aprons and hairnets, while others took baking sheets stacked with chicken from the commercial-sized oven, perfuming the air with a savory scent that made Harper’s tastebuds take notice.

She found Jonah in the walk-in refrigerator taking inventory, but he wasn’t her only brother there—so was John. John was only a few years older than she was and all their lives they’d clashed. Rachel had once told her that John resented Harper for replacing him as baby of the family, but given that both Rachel and the Reverend doted on John and gave him anything he asked for, she’d never understood his animosity.

“C’mon, Jonah,” John was saying as Harper entered the refrigerator, blessing the chilled air after the humidity of the kitchen. She stopped inside the door, not wanting to interrupt their conversation. “It’s only for a short while. I’ll pay you back long before you need to access your operational capital.”

“No. I can’t risk it,” Jonah answered, his pen bobbing in the air as he counted sacks of oranges. “What do you need the money for, anyway?”

“Nothing, it’s no big deal—a little robbing Peter to pay Paul so we can take advantage of some high-yield investments.”

“Well then, I guess, how about you invest a little less?”

“That’s not how it works. This is for the church’s future security.”

“Yeah, but I have to make sure I have enough money for the security of this mission. Do you have any idea how many people count on us?” He turned to face John and spotted Harper at the door. “Hey, li’l sis, what are you doing here? Don’t tell me anyone died?” Given his vulnerable clientele, Harper knew he was only half-joking.

“Well, actually. The case I mentioned at dinner?”

“The one you ran off for?” John asked.

“No. My case. Lily Nolan.” She held her phone out to Jonah, Lily’s picture filling the screen. “I thought you might know her? She worked the streets around here until a year or so ago, then no one saw her again. Not until this morning when her body was discovered.”

“Bless her soul.” From Jonah’s lips, it sounded like an actual prayer. He had a way of making pronouncements like that sound honest and authentic. Unlike John, who was clearly paying mere lip service when he spoke in a religious tone. But maybe Harper was jaded and had misjudged her brother as a hypocrite—after all, the Reverend trusted John with the church’s finances and their mother doted on John as “the best of them all.”

Jonah studied Lily’s photo carefully while John fidgeted, obviously irritated that Harper had interrupted. As if talk of investments took precedence over a murdered girl.

“I’m trying to locate next of kin, anyone who knew her,” Harper said.

“If you’re going to talk about dead people, I’m out of here.” John started for the door, but turned back. “I’ll call you, Jonah. We really need to discuss this more.” He swung the heavy steel door shut.

“What was that all about?” Harper asked. John had seemed even more intense than usual. But he always was when he talked about the church’s finances. He was responsible for ensuring Holy Redeemer’s future—and the Reverend never let him forget it.

Jonah glanced at the door with a frown. “Not actually sure. Mom wants me to give him access to the mission’s accounts, some kind of special investment?” His attention returned to the phone. “Lily. I remember her. I don’t think she’s been around lately. But she had a close friend, Macy is her street name. Have you tried her?”

“Our chat got cut short when her pimp put her back to work. When did you last see Lily?”

“A year, year and a half ago?”

Finally, a