Mind Games (8 page)

Sparrow sat in silence while Derrick drove through the dark corridors and hidden alleys of Los Angeles’ inner-city streets. She tried to remain optimistic for him. How did he expect to find this girl with the supposed broken or twisted ankle? Derrick was convinced the two kids would squat in the same area, or somewhere close by. If she were those kids she’d stay as far away from the scene of the crime as possible. However, Derrick had more experience dealing with these kids and their patterns, so she’d deferred decisions to him.

“They’ll probably stay as far away as possible from the usual Mobile Health Clinic locations, but if we don’t find her tonight we might want to check in the morning at the free needle exchange program. If she wanted methadone, she’s a heroin addict.”

“Great idea. We’ll see if she isn’t with the boyfriend with the camouflage backpack where they assaulted me first. I bet they’re living on the beach at High Point. They looked the type. You know the area? I usually go over there on Wednesdays and treat kids. Since I crashed out on your couch and missed my regular scheduled time at that location, I went over this morning.”

“Hmm… about that, are you upset I didn’t wake you?”

He reached over and put his hand on top of hers. “No, I’m glad I was there. You scared the hell out of me, though. When I realized you were gone, and I couldn’t find a note, I was concerned something had happened to you. I haven’t sprinted on the beach like that in years.”

She smiled at him, admiring his profile and the wild lock of hair curled behind his ear. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I don’t even remember leaving.”

“I know. You didn’t hear me come barreling toward you, and I had to walk in front of you to get your attention. Do you really think the vision you had at your yoga studio and the girl you saw in the ocean are related?”

She twisted in her seat and didn’t hesitate to answer. “Yes. Don’t you?”

He parked the car at the end of the pier and turned to her. “I think your subconscious is trying to tell you something. I’m worried about you, and I think you should talk to someone who can get the information out of you.”

“Like a hypnotist.”

“It might help.”

His voice and eyes were full of sincerity. Her father had put her through enough mental tests as a kid. The last thing she wanted was someone digging around her brain. Even if it meant making sense of the visions of the dead girl, and how she had connected to Dana before he took his life.

Dana. She hadn’t told Derrick about that vision, and she wouldn’t. He’d force her to speak with her father, and she couldn’t imagine what he’d do. He was a hard man with high expectations, a licensed therapist with a PhD, and a penchant for toying with the human mind. His sterling reputation preceded him worldwide.

He’d used Sparrow as a human guinea pig for his mind games and encouraged her friends to dabble in the human psyche. He could have given them a deck of tarot cards, and they could have tortured each other to death. Unlike her, her friends thought being part of Dr. Von Langley’s Theo Effect project was fun.

Since becoming reacquainted with Derrick, she couldn’t stop thinking about the summers she’d lusted over him. Her mind overflowed with more and more memories from those summers so long ago, but they only came in bits of pieces. She couldn’t fit the fragments together.

Derrick pulled open the passenger-side door and shattered her thought process. A cool breeze gusted past her. She zipped the front of her sweat jacket and pulled the hood over her head. She shivered. She didn’t like being on the beach at night. After having the vision, she knew why. For years, she hadn’t understood her apprehension and fear of the ocean at night. Derrick had probably been right when he’d suggested she had a repressed memory coming to life.

His warm hand squeezed hers. “I think I see him. He had this bulging backpack, and stringy black hair, but I don’t see the girl.”

“What do you want to do?”

They spoke in whispered voices over the crashing waves and whooshing sounds of the ocean. The pounding water did nothing to calm her fragile nerves.

“I’ll stay right behind you, but I think you should approach the group. If they try anything, I’ll be on them. Take this.” He handed her a can of pepper spray. She slipped it into her jacket pocket.

One of the kids looked in their direction. Derrick grabbed both of her hands into his and pulled her against him. Raising her right hand to his lips, he nuzzled it against his stubble, kissing her fingers. His deliberate action surprised her. When he looked up at her, his eyes caught the moonlight, enhancing the golden glint around his light brown irises. She stared wide-eyed into them, straining to hear what he was saying over the roaring waves.

“I’m going to kiss you.” He leaned in closer to her face, and his lips brushed against hers, the faint smell of his bubblegum breath rising to her nose. “Those kids are watching us.”

“I’m nervous about going over there. Something about this feels wrong.”

“Kissing me feels wrong?”

Their lips brushed, and they spoke through the kiss. “Oh, God no.” His lips tickled hers, and her sexual arousal drove over her fear.

“Good, because I plan on kissing you more, much, much more, later.” He dropped her hands, circling her waist. “That okay with you?”

“Uh-huh. Let’s just go.”

“Baby, please, I have to find this girl. It’s my fault she’s hurt. She won’t be as spooked if you go over and check things out. Do you remember what I told you she looks like?” She nodded. “Good. The boy she was with called her Angel. Just go over and say you’re looking for Angel. Keep your jacket hood up. They’ll think you’re a friend. You look like you could pass for about sixteen. I’ll be right here.”

The wind blew at her back. She walked away from the safety of Derrick and toward the growing group of kids. She trudged through the sand. The gritty granules spilled into her sneakers. She didn’t stop to shake the sand loose, worried she’d arouse suspicion in the kids. They might think she was an undercover cop, reaching for a weapon.

She neared the group, and her heart jumped a few beats. She broke into a cool sweat. Her nerves nagged her to stop.
Go back to Derrick. Now.
Too late. She was face to face with the raggedy-looking group. There was no turning back. She flinched when the boy with the camouflage backpack stepped forward, eyeing her up and down.

“I-I’m looking for Angel.”

He snickered. “Are you and your old man looking for a threesome, sweetheart?”

Her mouth fell open. “Umm, not exactly. We, I mean, me.” The kid laughed at her.

“Well, what is it, sweetheart, we or me? I really don’t care if you want her or your old man does, but it’ll cost you.” Camo-boy pressed a dirty finger to the side of his cheek as if he were thinking about a price. Sparrow digested the churning contents of her stomach, disgusted at the conversation with him.

“We want her overnight.”

The kids behind him erupted. “All right!”

Some tall, skinny girl approached her, licking her lips and suggesting things that wanted to make Sparrow puke. “Take me. I’ll go.”

“Skank,” Camo-boy said, and pushed her back. “She
wants
Angel. You ever do her before?”

Rats. Camo-boy had caught on to the fact she knew Angel’s name, and he wanted to know how. “Why do you think I’m here? Name a price and get her,” Sparrow said, shocked at her brazen answer. If she failed to leave with Angel, she’d disappoint Derrick. She pushed her hands into her pockets, kneading at the fabric, forcing a hard look on her face intended for Camo-boy, to let him know she wasn’t playing games. “Make up your mind or we walk.”

“A hundred bucks.” He turned his filthy palm up to her. “I want the money now. None of this bullshit ‘I’ll pay you when we’re done,’ and I don’t wanna watch.”

“Money’s in the car. Get Angel. I’ll be right back.”

“Anything you say, whore.” Camo-boy clucked his teeth at her.

Rage snapped a circuit of raw energy through her. Her hands shot out of her pockets, and she grabbed his scruffy jacket. “What’d you say, jackass?” She shook him. Her hand cinched his scrawny neck. She squeezed.

“Hey, lady,” he choked out, “I’m sorry.”

“That’s better.” She released him from her death grip, patted his bony cheek, and winked at him.

With quick steps, she marched back to Derrick and asked, “How much is this girl worth to you?”

“What?”

“For a hundred bucks she’s ours. That creep thinks we’re looking for a threesome.”

“Oh, Christ.” Derrick reached into his front pocket and pulled a money clip thick with bills. “Here.”

She took the crisp hundred-dollar bill and stomped back to the group of kids. Her adrenaline pumped the closer she got to Camo-boy. The urge to beat the shit out of him raged. Dana was the last man she would ever allow to call her a whore. The next one was going to find himself hunched over and spitting out teeth.

“Got the money?”

Sparrow dropped the hundred-dollar bill at his feet and watched Camo-boy greedily snatch it up from the sand. He sneered at her and then whistled for Angel, grabbing the broken girl by the arm and shoving her at Sparrow. “Have fun.”

“Shove her like that again and you’ll find my shoe up your ass.” She noticed the other kids backed away from them. “You got your money. Move.”

He flipped her off and broke into a sprint. Exhilarating control flooded her veins. She smiled, watching him stumble across the sand.

Sparrow was so focused on Camo-boy she hadn’t paid attention to Angel, standing next to her.

“Don’t let him treat you like that,” she said to Angel.

Sparrow’s adrenaline-fueled heart hitched at the sight of the girl with scraggly blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, and thin, pale lips, cracked and crusty from the sun and drugs. Her lifeless eyes conveyed the hopelessness of a young spirit broken. For minutes they stood staring at each other, speechless.

Sparrow’s mind flooded with the memory of the dead girl from the ocean.

Derrick glanced in the rearview mirror at Angel, who had hobbled back to the car with Sparrow. There was no mistaking her for the girl who kicked him in the crotch. He recognized the dark circles shadowing her bloodshot eyes and her thin, sun-dried lips that had wickedly smiled at him before she’d nailed him between the legs with one swift kick. She fidgeted with the long cuffs of her T-shirt, stretching the fabric down to the tips of her fingers and nuzzling them inside the cotton confines. She appeared nervous. They sat in the car in silence. He finally turned the key in the ignition.

“Hey! Where are you taking me?” She erupted and kicked the back of his seat.

Sparrow winced and curled her legs up to her chest. Great, the last thing he needed was her looking afraid of him with Angel in the car. Sparrow curled her arms and legs against her body. Angel kicked the back of his seat, ready to attack him again. He flicked the interior lights on and twisted in his seat to look at her.

“Remember me?”

Her slits for eyes bugged out, darting from one side of the car to the other, looking for a way out. She yanked on the door handles. Derrick had her trapped between the locked doors. Defeated, she pushed her body way back against the seat, recoiling from his steady gaze. “Oh, no. Please don’t hurt me. I didn’t mean to. It’s Sly’s fault. I have to do what he says. Please let me go. I’ll do whatever you and your girlfriend want.”

Fear pooled in her eyes. The wise girl had had a change of heart. She pleaded for him not to hurt her. Derrick cocked his head to the side and smiled at her.

“We’re not going to hurt you. I’m a doctor. Let me help you.”

He twisted forward in his seat and put the car in reverse, waiting for a response from Angel. He assumed her ankle was fractured, but he wouldn’t know unless she allowed him to take a look at it. “Sparrow, open the glove box and see if there’s a packet of pain reliever inside the first-aid kit.”

The door popped open. Derrick glanced over at the interior. The small pistol he carried was inside. He had a permit for it and had taken lessons on gun safety and learned how to fire it at the range.

“Hey, pick your jaw up from your lap. It’s legal,” he said to Sparrow. “I need it to keep safe.”

She didn’t budge to find the first-aid kit. He reached across her and shoved his hand inside, trying to steer the car and lean over with his hand in the glove compartment. The Accord swerved in the road. Finally, he felt the plastic edge of the box and yanked it out. He glanced back at Angel in the rearview mirror.

“I’ll do whatever you guys want. You don’t have to give me drugs,” Angel pleaded, looking panic-stricken. She pressed her face and hands against the window, looking for someone to come to her rescue.

“I’m a doctor, not a drug dealer. I was going to give you something to help with the pain in your ankle and the swelling.” He tossed a packet of pills back to her and told her there was bottled water in the small cooler behind Sparrow’s seat.

“How’d you know I hurt my ankle?”

“I’m a doctor. I saw the fall you took from the back of my RV. Does it hurt?”

“Like crazy,” Angel replied. “Where are we going?”

Derrick glanced over at Sparrow. Her legs were tucked against her chest, with her chin resting on top of her knees. He touched the side of her face. “Sparrow is a volunteer at my Mobile Health Clinic. We want to take you to the hospital and make sure your ankle’s not broken.”

“Why would you do that for me?”

“Because I feel responsible for what happened to you.”

The cap clicked on the bottled water. She twisted the top off and took a generous gulp. The pill packet tore open. He’d gained some of her trust.

“Thanks for the medicine. It’s not drugs, right? The packet says pain reliever—it’s generic stuff, right? You didn’t put some kind of X in here, did you? I wanna know if I’m gonna go rolling.”

“I didn’t give you ecstasy. I’m taking you to the hospital. I have an arrangement with a friend of mine who’s a doctor. If your ankle is broken, he’ll set it, and I’ll take the cast off. If you let me, I can look at it and probably figure out if it’s only sprained.”

Before Angel could respond, Sparrow’s cell phone rang. The “Barbie Girl” song played, reminding Derrick of her odd hobby. “Are you going to get that?”

She unfolded her legs and pulled the phone from her purse. Since finding the gun in his glove compartment, she hadn’t spoken a word. She wouldn’t even glance over at him.

“Hello, Daddy?” A few beats. “I’ll be right there.”

“Everything okay?” Derrick asked, reaching across the console to caress her leg. She didn’t flinch at his touch.

“It’s my mom. She’s not well. Daddy would like me to come to the house. Now.”

He’d anticipated meeting her parents after all these years. This wasn’t good timing, but how could he refuse when her mother’s health was failing? Sparrow had never fully disclosed the nature of her mother’s condition, other than she’d had a severe problem with depression. Derrick guessed her mental stability had been gradually deteriorating.

He made a quick turn off the exit and headed in the direction of Crystal Cove. “Don’t worry, baby. Everything will be all right.” He slid his hand down her thigh and reached for her hand.

Derrick craned his head to Angel, who was getting comfy in the back seat. She’d untied the jacket from her waist and bundled it around her like a blanket. Her fingers gripped the fabric and pulled it up around her neck. She snuggled against the seat and closed her eyes. Kids living on the streets couldn’t sleep without worrying their stuff would be stolen or that they would be physically attacked.

Was his sister Kat living a life similar to Angel’s? Did she sell her body to survive? Had she become addicted to drugs? He took his eyes off the road and glanced into the rearview mirror at Angel again. She probably hadn’t slept on something as comfortable as a car seat, let alone a bed, in months, maybe even years.

He didn’t want to think about the squalor she must live in, sleep on, and get by on. The underground living arrangements beneath the intricate circuit of freeways covering the city was what most of these kids called home. They lived in dark, dank quarters, the equivalent of rats in sewer drains. How was his sister living and getting by today?

Releasing Angel back to the street edged around his mind. He couldn’t start taking in homeless kids. He wasn’t running a shelter, and he doubted she’d go into foster care at her age.

*               *               *

Forty-five minutes later, they sat waiting for the gates to her father’s estate to open. Sparrow clasped her hands around her mouth, dropped them, and blew out her breath. The adrenaline rush from earlier had still trickled from her pores. The verbal and physical assault on Camo-boy had left her edgy, and Angel reminded her of the dead girl in the ocean. Mental and physical exhaustion weighed her down.

Derrick carried a gun. Had he ever used it? Did he have a violent nature? He seemed so kind, gentle, and caring. The gun didn’t fit his personality. Could he fire it in self-defense and kill another human being? She was relieved to know he protected himself, but why didn’t he carry the gun in the RV? Considering the locations he parked the Mobile Health Clinic RV and the runaway kids he treated, those places and people left him most vulnerable. Proof existed in the back seat of the car. She heard Angel’s soft snoring.

Angel looked so much like the girl in her visions the girl she couldn’t remember. The dead girl and Angel shared an uncanny resemblance. They both had long, unkempt blonde hair, thin lips, and startling, pale blue eyes with a faraway look of despair. They drove through the gates and toward the sprawling estate where she’d grown up. Déjà vu hit Sparrow.

“This isn’t exactly how I imagined you meeting my father and mother. But Daddy says Mother was asking for me, and he’s convinced she’ll only rest after she sees me.”

“Sparrow, relax. We’re not kids. This may not seem like the best circumstances,” he said, and nodded toward the back seat. “But life happens. I’m sorry your mom’s not well. Are you going to be okay?”

Derrick rested his hand on top of her knee. She twitched. The gun had her jumpy. It shouldn’t. He was still the same Derrick. Wasn’t he? The confrontation with Camo-boy had messed with her mind. The nasty name he’d called her reminded her about Dana, and how physically and mentally abusive he’d become throughout the course of their relationship. She ran her hands along her arms. Would she recognize another man’s potential for violence?

Derrick rotated the car around the circular drive. Her stomach fluttered. Derrick’s dark side, the side that carried a gun, had her worried, and meeting Angel on the beach flooded her head with another strange memory. She’d been there before, when she was about Angel’s age.

Derrick stopped the car. Sparrow unfolded her legs. What about Angel? Should they leave her sleeping in the car? She didn’t like the idea of inviting the girl into the house. Derrick would insist he look at Angel’s ankle. Here. She was stuck.

Derrick opened the door and stepped out of the car. He flipped the seat forward then reached in and nudged Angel.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“Sparrow’s parents’ house. Her mother needs her. I’ll take a look at your ankle here.”

The house gradually lit up like Disneyland with each step they took along the brick-paved walk and up the wide, glossy steps dotted with flowering pots. They approached the double red doors, complete with brass lion-head doorknockers. The final set of lights popped on.

Not much had changed about the house. Topiaries stood at attention in gold pots at the opposite sides of the double doors. Sparrow turned back at the lush grass and intricately cut shrubs lining the property. Her mother could no longer tend to the flower gardens she had admired and toiled over in earlier years. Now her father had taken over caring for it all.

Aside from her parents living there, they employed a personal assistant for her father and a fulltime chef and housekeeper. Occasionally, her father would have a nurse available to her mother, depending on her state. When Sparrow lived with them, her mother had employed a personal assistant to manage her overflowing social calendar, and a fulltime nanny to watch over Sparrow. The nannies changed if her parents, especially her father, had thought she’d grown too close. By the time she turned eighteen, she’d probably had a different nanny every year.

The door swung open and her father stood larger than life in the wide frame. “Sweetheart, thanks for coming. Come in, come in.”

All six feet of him stepped back from the door. He pushed his wire-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose. Even with his thinning black hair, graying at the temples, her father was a handsome and distinguished-looking man. He carried himself in such a way that everyone trusted him.

The sound of his deep even voice lulled people to listen to what he had to say. Corporations paid small fortunes to have her father as a guest speaker. Aside from his other distinguished credentials, in his later years, he’d become a life coach. Even the big TV networks approached him about his own show, but he preferred some anonymity. He’d leave the TV world to Dr. Drew and Dr. Phil. Instead he’d agreed to serve as a consultant to the various networks and their numerous morning and evening news shows gaining in popularity. The average public clamored to see celebrities rise and fall and squirm in their own sordid addictions.

Derrick stepped back and allowed her and Angel to go in first. She noticed how Derrick hesitated to step on the Persian rug. The pricey surroundings had little effect on her. She wiped her sand-covered shoes against the fine rug.

“Daddy, I’d like you to meet Dr. Derrick Sloan. You might remember his father was the lead engineer on this development?”

Derrick extended his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“Well, my goodness, Derrick. I remember you when you were just a teenager. And who’s this young lady?”

Angel recoiled from them. “Daddy, this is Angel.”

“Dr. Von Langley, I run a mobile health clinic in Los Angeles. Angel had an accident. I’d like to make sure she doesn’t have a broken ankle. We were on our way to the hospital when you called, sir.”

“Ah, yes, I read about your practice in the
Times
. I believe the reporter referred to it as a health clinic on wheels.” He pressed the intercom and called to the chef. “We’ve got guests. Please bring a cup of herbal tea for my daughter, a cup of hot cocoa for her friend, and a plate of oatmeal cookies.” He took his finger off the intercom and turned to Derrick. “What can I get for you?”

“Tea sounds good. It was cold on the beach.”

He pushed the intercom again and summoned another cup of tea.

“Sparrow, I must ask that you go up and see your mother. She’s been asking for you. I think Dana’s death has had an effect on her. How was the service?”

The contents of her stomach knotted. She recalled his lifeless body in the casket. The rise and fall of his chest, his eyes peeling open, the warm pink color filling his pale lips and his mouth opening, and the final words he’d spoken to her.
Stop him.
She tapped her foot against the marble floor. Her father placed his large hands over hers and startled her. He’d picked up on her anxiety.