The Ripple Effect (Rhiannon's Law #3)(10)

“I’ve got a twenty with your name on it. All you have to do is answer a few questions.”

There was a lengthy pause. “You a cop?”

“Nope, not a cop. I work as a bartender over at The Black Panther. I’m just trying to find out what happened to the young woman who died here so we can keep a close watch on our girls.”


The thin plastic sheet hanging from the end of the box moved aside. The homeless man’s knuckles were gnarled, and his facial hair was so tangled you couldn’t get a good look at anything but his eyes. The smell coming from him was gagtastic—absolutely horrible.

I held my breath but didn’t move away.

The inside of the box wasn’t any better. A thin sheet, some canned food, a small teddy bear, and a half-empty bottle of wine rested in a corner. There was also a dark, yellowish stain near the entrance that explained the overwhelming stink of ammonia. No wonder the man reeked. He didn’t bother taking his business outside. What was he thinking? Even dogs didn’t piss where they slept.

“What makes you think I know anything?”

“I don’t.”

He licked his parched lips and glanced from left to right, as if he wanted to be one hundred percent certain we were alone. “Fifty dollars, and I’ll tell you everything I know.”

Wiley old bastard. “For fifty dollars”—I pulled a wad of money from my back pocket—“you’d better know a lot.”

He snatched the bill as soon as I extended the cash and started talking. “It was early, probably three or four in the morning. Most of the street walkers had retired for the night. I wouldn’t have noticed a thing, but I heard a woman laughing. When I took a look, I seen she weren’t alone and a man was with her. They started getting it on against the wall over there. It was a damn good show until he took things too far and she started fighting.”

He shook his head, exhaling slowly, the scraggly gray hairs above his upper lip shifting. Running his hand over his face, he said, “She was a little thing compared to him. He pulled out a knife and put it to her throat...” He folded the money, staring at his hands. “That was the end of that.”

“She fought him.”

The old man shrugged. “As much as she could, I suppose.”

“Then what happened?”

The crow’s feet around his eyes deepened as he scowled. “What the hell do you think? She’s dead, ain’t she?”

“I think I paid you for information,” I snapped. “Enlighten me.”

“She screamed once and that was it.” Hobo was as annoyed and obviously uncomfortable. “He cut her while he was f*cking her. When he finished and left, I split. I’m no match for someone like that.”

As I studied the man, I knew he was right. If he’d have tried to help, he would have met the same fate as Autumn. He was well into his sixties, frail and thin, and his hands looked horribly arthritic. There was no way he could have stopped what had happened. He was smart to stay out of sight.

“What can you tell me about the guy aside from he was big?”

“He kills women in his spare time?”

A smartass after my own heart. “Do you want to keep that fifty, old man?”

He grumbled something I didn’t understand. Then he properly answered my question. “He was a white guy, dark shoulder-length hair. I didn’t get a look at his face.”

Damn. That didn’t tell me much. “What kind of clothes did he have on?”

“What’ve his clothes got to do with it?”

“Listen, pops.” I leaned forward despite the rancid smell. “I don’t have a problem paying for your answering services, but I’m all about customer satisfaction.” Moving slowly, I pushed aside my coat and revealed the holster complete with a gun tucked under my arm. “Don’t force me to take my money back. I don’t think either of us wants to go there.”

“You said you weren’t a cop.” He thrust the money back at me. “Take it and go.”

“I’m not a cop.” I released the jacket and tugged it over my chest. “I’m just your average bartender.”

“Bartenders don’t carry guns.”

I smiled. If only he knew the half of it. “This one does.”

“Look, lady, I’m not—”


I knew panic when I saw it, and I’d almost forced the poor bastard out of his comfort zone. I shoved his hand into his chest and gave him a thin smile. “Keep the cash and answer the question. The sooner you do, the sooner I’ll leave.”


“He was dressed in black, I think. It was too dark to tell.” His forehead creased as he rubbed his hands together and took a moment to think. “He had on gloves. I noticed them when he pulled out the knife.”

Good man. “Were you the one who called the police?”

He shook his head. “As soon as the coast was clear, I ran. I spent time in a few other places before I came back.”

“Do you remember anything else?”

“Hell no. I was too busy trying not to piss myself.”

Ah, the humiliating, but always entertaining, golden shower of terror. I couldn’t fault him there, even though I didn’t understand his worry over such a thing as he’d obviously had an accident or two inside his box home.