Chasing the Dime by Michael Connelly Read Free Book Online

mean? What exactly happened?’
    â€˜You know, mister, you’re really creeping me out, asking all of these questions. And the thing is, I don’t have to talk to you. So why don’t you just spend the night with your own molecules.’
    She hung up.
    Pierce sat there with the phone still to his ear. He was tempted to call back but instinctively knew it would be fruitless attempting to get anything out of Robin. He had spoiled it with the way he had handled it.
    He finally hung up and thought about what he had gathered. He looked at the photo of Lilly still on his computer screen. He thought about Robin’s cryptic comment about something having happened to her.
    â€˜What happened to you?’
    He moved the screen back to the home page and clicked on a tab marked ADVERTISE WITH US. It led to a page with instructions for placing ads on the site. It could be done through the net by submitting a credit card number, ad copy and a digital photograph. But in order to receive the blue ribbon signaling a verified photo on the ad, the advertiser had to submit all the materials in person so that she could be confirmed as the woman in the photograph. The site’s brick-and-mortar location was on Sunset Boulevard in Hollywood. This was apparently what Lilly and Robin had done. The page listed the office’s hours as Monday through Saturday, nine to five during the week and ten to three on Saturdays.
    Pierce wrote the address and hours down on his notepad. He was about to disconnect from the site when he decided to call up Lilly’s page once again. He printed out a color copy of her photo on the DeskJet. He then shut down the computer and disconnected the phone line. Again a voice inside told him he had gone as far with this as he could go. As he should go. It was time to change his phone number and forget about it.
    But another voice — a louder voice from the past — told him something else.
    â€˜Lights,’ he said.
    The office dropped into darkness. Pierce didn’t move. He liked the darkness. He always did his best thinking in the dark.

5
    The stairway was dark and the boy was scared. He looked back to the street and saw the waiting car. His stepfather saw the hesitation and put his hand out the car window. He waved the boy forward, waved him in. The boy turned back and looked up into the darkness. He turned on the flashlight and started up.
    He kept the light down on the steps, not wanting to announce he was coming up by lighting the room at the top. Halfway there one of the stairs creaked loudly under his foot. He stood frozen still. He could hear his own heartbeat banging in his chest. He thought about Isabelle and the fear she probably carried in her own chest every day and night after night. He drew his resolve from this and started up again.
    Three steps from the top he cut the light off and waited for his eyes to adjust. In a few moments he thought he could see a dim light from the room up ahead of him. It was candlelight licking at the ceiling and walls. He pushed himself against the side wall and took the last three steps up.
    The room was large and crowded. He could see the makeshift beds lined against the two long walls. Still figures, like heaps of rummage sale clothes, slept on each. At the end of the room a single candle burned and a girl, a few years older and dirtier, heated a bottle cap over the flame. The boy studied her face in the uneven light. He could see that it wasn’t Isabelle.
    He started moving down the center of the room, between the sleeping bags and the newspaper pallets. From side to side he looked, searching for the familiar face. It was dark but he could tell. He’d know her when he saw her.
    He got to the end, by the girl with the bottle cap. And Isabelle wasn’t there.
    â€˜Who are you looking for?’ asked the girl.
    She was drawing back the plunger on the hypodermic, sucking the brown-black liquid through a cigarette butt filter from