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“Tell Ellie I’m really sorry. If I can do anything…”
“Thanks. We’ll let you know.”
* * * *
Ellie sat at her desk, thinking back to when Natalie had first come here. It was now clear to her that she must have done her homework meticulously. She already knew that Ellie and Jordan would check on her some, but also that they had busy lives, with long work hours.
She had known about Ellie’s grief, and woven a story around it. Chances were Natalie’s mother was well and alive. She swiped through her phone, pictures taken at the party, and realized that Natalie had never directly looked into the camera.
“Ellie, hi.”
Sam Potts, carrying two cups of coffee, startled her out of her thoughts. “Hey. I was tacking a break from the files. I thought after the day we all had yesterday, you could use one.”
Ellie gratefully accepted the steaming cup. She wondered how her troubles compared to Sam’s, if they did, in any way.
Besides…She had been attacked, taken from her home once. They had dealt with a serial killer’s fixation with Jordan. This, in comparison, was nothing. Why did it freak her out so much? She could give herself the answer. Natalie had messed with her mind, the memories of her parents, the memories Meredith and Patrick’s friends had of them.
“Sit for a moment,” she said.
“Thanks.”
Of course, this had to be the moment Atwood walked through the room, giving both of them a glare. Instead of him, Ellie had assigned Wes Martin, who had been in her class in the academy.
“How are you holding up?” Ellie asked.
“I’m better. Work is my saving grace.”
“Yeah. I know how that feels. Look, Sam…”
The young officer listened attentively. Ellie realized all of a sudden that while she’d likely have to face the subject many more times, she couldn’t tell her, not now. There was a surprising amount of shame attached to it. She knew they had done everything possible, even more so than any civilian person could have done if an alleged long lost relative showed up. Natalie had taken money, but judging from the amount of it, that might not have been her main motivation. She enjoyed the manipulation.
What else was there that they might not know about?
“Keep up the great work,” she said. “Did you find anything interesting yet in those documents?”
* * * *
Somehow, Ellie made it through the day, and they met at the D&T with Kate and Derek. Jordan didn’t have any new information other than a detective in Fraud was on the case and would inform them as soon as they had any leads.
“I’m really sorry,” Kate said, her gaze somber as she hugged Ellie. “Makes me wish I was still working with you, and I could help you find the bitch.”
“We’ll do what we can to make that happen,” Derek assured. “What are you having? I’ll pay.”
“I can’t pass up that chance.” Ellie hoped that a few drinks would at least keep the deep sadness away for a few hours. At times, it drowned out the bitter self-reproach that she should have known better. She had also pushed every single doubt aside, because she’d been so happy to have found family, something that was no longer true. But the things she and Jordan had told Ariel about chosen family still were. “Jordan will drive. Since she had shots with Torres the other day, it’s only fair.”
She caught Jordan’s glance on her, both affectionate and concerned. Being with her was a safe space that Natalie hadn’t been able to invade. At the moment, it might be the only thing that kept her sane.
Chapter Sixteen
Ellie’s plan might have been to get drunk, and Jordan would have made sure she could do safely, but to her relief it didn’t come to that. They talked about work, Kate’s pre-law classes and plans for the near future. James McKenzie came by with his husband and stopped at their table briefly, the conversation lifting Ellie’s spirits. She had achieved a lot in little time. Jordan knew she’d refuse to let anything keep her down, though this was a tough case indeed. It would take a while to completely unravel the manipulation that had taken place.
She, too, wondered about Natalie’s true motives, and if the simple act of fooling everyone was her biggest gratification.
“So,” Kate began, “now that you’re no longer living in sin, have you thought about who’s going to be Mommy, and who’s Mama?”
Ellie nearly choked on her sip of wine.
Jordan patted her back lightly. “I didn’t know this was a question you were worrying about.”
“Come on, it’s not such a far-fetched idea, is it? You were ready to adopt a teenager.”
“That’s right, a teenager who needed an emergency placement. And we would have done it, but this is different.” She was aware of Ellie’s gaze on her, thoughtful. “It requires some planning. And Ellie has had her new job for a few months only.”
“But you’re thinking about it, right?” Kate all but clapped her hands. Come to think of it, she’d probably had more to drink than Ellie. Aside from all that, she had a point as well. Pauline had brought up the subject the first time Ellie came to dinner. Since their plans to adopt Ariel hadn’t worked out, there hadn’t been a lot of time to reconsider, but Jordan had thought about it every once in a while, torn between a dream and sheer terror. It was mostly up to Ellie to make that decision, because her career was at such a critical stage.
“Not about what she or he is going to call us, not really,” Ellie answered. Without hesitation, she added, “But maybe in a couple of years or so, it could happen.”
“It could,” Jordan agreed, relieved they were on the same page. They had just bought a house together, got married. They needed time to live in the present for a while—especially after this disturbing interlude.
All night, she had watched for signs of how Ellie was coping, which seemed okay. Later, when Ellie was asleep next to her, she allowed herself a glimpse into a future that might be. In a year or two.
* * * *
The next morning, back at work, she achieved a tentative breakthrough. Jordan studied the computer screen with a sense of cautious excitement. She wasn’t yet sure what it all meant, but it looked like her hunch was leading somewhere. She’d done some research on the buildings where Dinkins and Oswald, and the man they’d found guarding the hotel room, respectively, had lived.
It turned out both were owned by the same company, LHS, Leeden Housing Solutions. Leeden was part of an even bigger group that had invested billions in the past few years, buying buildings that fell in the category of affordable housing, as well as luxury suites, and a few hotels as well. It could be coincidence. The man Nina had shot had lived in a one story house that his family owned, but there were other witnesses still waiting to testify.
She decided it was worth seeing Valerie Esposito again. The A.D.A. was frowning over a pile of files on her table, but she gestured for Jordan to sit down and offered her a coffee.
“Twice in as many days. To whom do I owe the pleasure?”
“I’m not sure yet, but I’d like to check the addresses of your witnesses again. Those who aren’t in jail already, that is.”
“Yeah. Thank God most of them are, but we don’t want another one to end up dead. At least you saw the hotel room, and this was connected to Henderson’s undercover gig anyway, so I don’t think we’ll lose some momentum here. If it becomes a trend, though, it could go all the way up to the boss.”
“That’s a Federal case though.”
“Yeah, but I still have to put some of these guys away, hopefully close to forever. What do you have?”
Jordan related the connection she had found regarding the apartments.
“It’s thin at the moment, but there might be something there. I’ll have Annie print you a list.”
“Thanks.”
“How are things otherwise? Still in the honeymoon phase?”
“Yes, thank you very much. That’s all you get on the subject.”
Valerie laughed. “Yeah,
that’s what happens after marriage. You used to be fun.”
Amused, Jordan thought about how much better her life was now that all the relationship drama, the questions and doubts, were firmly in the past.
“Like you’d know.”
“I know enough,” Valerie declared. “All right, let me know if that list leads to something. Have a good day.”
“You too.”
* * * *
She was just about to get back to it, but the moment she stepped out of the elevator, so did April on the other side. She looked serious.
“Let’s find Ellie and go somewhere we can talk in private?”
They went to an empty briefing room where April laid a folder on the table.
“First of all, this lady’s set-up was extremely sophisticated. She made sure nothing would show up in a quick background check—address, DMV, social security number, all of those existed. But the real Natalie Morgan has been dead for almost a decade,” she delivered the jaw-dropping news. Ellie was silent.
“What did she want?” Jordan asked.
“That, we haven’t figured out yet. We have, however, found her car, abandoned by the highway. It was wiped clean.”
“How could she do all this in such a short time? She must have had a partner. What about the neighbor? He seemed pretty taken with her.”
“Yeah, but you talked to him as well. He might have a crush, but I don’t think he knew about any of this.”
“She lived with us for a couple of weeks. There are prints all over the house.” Hers, and those of everyone at the party. Still, it should be possible to eliminate.
“Yeah, that would help,” April agreed.
“She was cleaning all of the time. That will probably make it harder,” Ellie remembered, her voice tinged with anger. “It’s crazy. She was really into it, even leaving flowers on my parents’ grave. She must have almost invested more money than she spent with the debit card. All those meals she cooked.”
“She could have been stealing in other ways from you,” April said. “Well, in a way she did. She lived rent-free with you, didn’t pay anything for one of the apartments, and we are still trying to figure out where the payments for the second one came from. Perhaps she intended to stay longer, but then you spooked her.”
“Now what?” Ellie sounded dejected.
“We are looking at other cases, similarities. She’s too good to have done that for the first time. All the exposure, the set-up she needed to make this work…You don’t start with a cop.”
“Anything so far?” There was something chilling about what Natalie had done. Jordan didn’t think she had murdered anyone, or was likely to do so—nevertheless, it took a sociopath to pull this off. She wasn’t safe to be around. Certainly not for Ellie who had been forced to relive her grief all over again.
“One that sounded promising.” It was unnerving to be on the other side of this equation, to be someone else’s case. They’d both had their share of it already. “A woman found the daughter she had given up for adoption a long time ago. The daughter moved in, did all kinds of things for her, cooked, cleaned, ran errands…They even took a vacation together that the mom paid for. Then, all of a sudden, the daughter is gone. The cell phone number doesn’t exist anymore. No one knew her at what was supposed to be her workplace, or the last known address before staying with Mom.”
“Was there a letter?” Ellie asked.
“That’s why she called the police. And it sounded very much like yours. She basically admits that it was a charade to begin with.”
“I want to talk to that woman.”
“I can set something up if you want.”
“Yes, please do that. Thanks.”
“Sure. I’ll keep digging. This is certainly not a usual case. Normally it’s pretty clear what the scam artist is after, and money is always on top of the list. All right, I’ll get back to it.”
Jordan and Ellie returned to their own desks, still absorbing what they’d just heard.
“What’s in it for her?” Jordan asked.
“A sense of identity? I have no idea. That would be a case for Bethany.”
Jordan gave her a quick sideways look just to make sure Ellie didn’t mean she should contact Bethany in this. “I’m sure Dr. Burns could give us an expert opinion.”
“Yeah. Probably.”
“Are you going to be okay? There’s something Derek and I have to check out.”
“Yeah, of course.” Ellie made a dismissive gesture. “I work here, too, remember?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“It’s okay. I’ll see you later.”
Ellie had already turned her attention to a file on her desk, and Jordan was dismissed.
* * * *
“She’ll be okay,” Derek declared with more confidence than Jordan had at the moment. “This is not the worst you two have been through.”
“No, but it’s bad. She really thought they had a bond. Hell, I thought that.”
“It sucks. You’ll move on. Speaking of which, there’s been a lot of baby talk lately…”
“Right. Kate was the one who brought it up.”
“Oh, she’s definitely not interested in that right now, going back to school and all. Things are good.”
Jordan wondered about what might be between the lines of that statement, but she didn’t prod, acknowledging that she and Ellie had enough on their plate at the moment.
“Ellie just made detective. Let’s give it some time.”
They were going to see William Leeden, the owner of LHS. Jordan’s research hadn’t brought up any connection to the men who died in two of their apartments, but she had found old news about a tax evasion scandal that led to a lot of firings and a complete reconstruction of the firm.
To her relief, Leeden didn’t play coy and let them wait. He wasn’t happy to see them either.
“We haven’t had police in the house in a few years, and let me tell you, I’m relieved about that. I’m sure you’re aware of what happened six years ago. A few of our accountants were happy to fill their own pockets, and it backfired badly on the firm. We made it back. That’s all I can tell you.”
“We’re not here about that,” Jordan told him. “You’re aware of the deaths in two of your buildings?”
“I’m not sure what you mean. Those are a lot of apartments. Sadly, sometimes people die.”
“These men were shot in the head while working for a sex trafficking ring out of said apartments. You do some sort of background check on prospective tenants?”
“That part of the building is in affordable housing. Sometimes it’s people who need a second chance.”
“Do the names Oswald and Dinkins ring a bell?”
He was silent for a few seconds. “I think I read about them—in the building on Newton?”
“That would be the one,” Derek said. “Who would have taken care of those leases? And the one on Johnson Street?”
“I’m not sure I know by heart, but I can certainly find you that information.”
“We’d appreciate that. You talked about second chances. So you’re aware if an applicant had, say, a record? Is there anywhere you’d draw the line?”
He shrugged. “You never know the whole story. We certainly don’t deny housing to people who’ve made mistakes. As long as they served their time and have a job to pay the rent, I’m good.”
Even if that job included selling human beings? Jordan wondered.
* * * *
Marjorie Vaughn worked in an LHS office by the waterfront, and she confirmed that she did background checks on prospective tenants. She was in her fifties, shoulder-length hair, no make-up, and with a no-nonsense attitude about her.
“Middle-aged women are harmless and invisible to most people,” she said with a shrug. “So they’re comfortable, and tend to tell me things that they might not otherwise.”
“Do you find they often lie on their applications?”
“All the time.
But there’s the Internet now, and of course public records…The past is hard to hide.”
Jordan suppressed a sigh. She loved her present, having a life with the woman she loved and a job she was good at. None of it had deleted that fact that she came from a neglectful mother and a criminal father. Of course, they were talking about past issues on a different scale.
She had a brief thought for Natalie who had decided she didn’t want any past at all, just one lie after the other.
“We’re interested in particular former tenants of LHS.”
“Yeah. Mr. Leeden warned me that it’s about the dead men. I know that you usually need a warrant, but he told me to cooperate with you. We have nothing to hide.”
“That’s good to hear, Mrs. Vaughn.”
“Ms.,” she corrected Derek. “I’ll pull up those records for you.”
“Thank you. We appreciate it.”
True to her word, she was back a few minutes later with the printouts of the standard background checks for the names they had listed. People might tell Ms. Vaughn things, but they certainly left out some of them. Dinkins had not been forthcoming about his prior prison sentence in an assault case. On paper, the men looked fairly ordinary. Dinkins and Oswald listed jobs in construction, the man who had guarded the hotel room had given “security guard” as profession. In the notes, there was a mix of letters and numbers that looked like some sort of code.
“What does this mean?” Jordan showed the paper to Ms. Vaughn.
“Oh, just something for me. It’s when Mr. Leeden meets with the applicant in person.”
“He does that? Those are many apartments.” He had said it himself.
“Yes. Sometimes. Let me see.” She checked the note section for Dinkins’ application. “And there’s another one.”
“Do you have any indication why Mr. Leeden would want to meet with these particular tenants?”
“I’m not sure. Sometimes it’s about business. He’s always trying to build and buy more, and someone with ties to construction might be helpful. Or perhaps they approached him—a security related job in exchange for reduced rent. Is there anything else I can do for you?”