The Bitter Season (Kovac and Liska, #5)(81)

“Better hope he has that deer rifle.”

“I’ll bet a week’s pay he still has the gun. Hunters like their trophies. He’d still have the gun in lieu of Ted Duffy’s head on his wall. Besides that, I’ll bet he’s a cheap old bastard. He probably hasn’t thrown anything away since Reagan was president.”

They took the Crosstown Highway and exited into a neighborhood not unlike Nikki’s—tree-lined streets and well-kept homes of a mix of styles popular in the forties and fifties; the kind of neighborhood where people lived quietly and raised their kids to go to church on Sunday.

“So, the story on this girl is what?” she asked.

“Angie Jeager was in and out of foster care growing up,” Seley said. “Her mother was in and out of psychiatric facilities. She died of a drug overdose four months before the Duffy murder, so the girl was with the Duffys when it happened. When Barbie Duffy sent the girls back into the system, Angie was put into a group home. When she aged out of foster care, she had no family to go to, and apparently she ended up on the street. She has a yellow sheet full of petty drug stuff and prostitution.”

“She must have turned herself around at some point,” Nikki said. “She’s not turning tricks in this neighborhood.”

“My friend at DCFS told me she’s a Chrysalis Center success story. They pulled her out of a bad situation. She ended up getting a degree in social work.”

“Good for her.”

“Actually, I think she was quoted in that article about Chrysalis in the Trib a week or so ago,” Seley said. “Talking about girls aging out of the system.”

It broke Nikki’s heart to see kids fall through the cracks. The social services system left a lot to be desired, but at least kids trapped in it got fed and had a roof over their heads. The second they aged out of the system, however, there was no safety net. They were thrown into the world like baitfish in a shark tank. They had no place to stay, no money, no means to support themselves.

Most homeless shelters wouldn’t take them, reserving their spots for women with small children. A lot of them ended up on the street. Most of them were barely educated because of the chaotic nature of their lives and the lack of adult support. The lack of education made job opportunities scarce. And most businesses wouldn’t hire a homeless person anyway. Employers wanted stable individuals with real addresses, but it was impossible to get a real address without real money, and difficult to get money without a job.

Caught in a downward spiral, these kids were easy prey for drug dealers and pimps. Angie Jeager was lucky to have caught the attention of someone from the Chrysalis Center. Good on her for making the most of her chance.

“This is it, on the right,” Seley said, and repeated the address.

The house was a cute little English-cottage-style, like something found in the enchanted forest of a fairy tale. A fall wreath hung on the arched front door. Amber lights glowed in the multipaned windows.

“She’s married now,” Seley said. “Her last name is Burke. First name, Evangeline.”

Nikki rang the doorbell and they waited in the rain. They had not called ahead. She preferred seeing a person’s honest reaction to a cop showing up on their doorstep.

A tentative voice came from behind the door. “Who is it?”

“Minneapolis Police Department,” Nikki said.

She pulled her ID out of her coat pocket and held it up so it could be seen through the peephole. A second later, locks were being undone.

The woman who opened the door was Nikki’s age, pretty in a girl-next-door kind of way, with light brown hair and big blue eyes.

“Did Kate send you?” she asked.

“Kate?”

“Kate Quinn. From Chrysalis.”

“No,” Nikki said. “You’re Evangeline Burke?”

“Evi. Evi Burke. Yes,” she said, clearly confused.

“I’m Detective Liska; this is Detective Seley. We have some questions for you.”

“This isn’t about the note?”

“May we come in?” Nikki asked, ignoring her question. “It’s a little wet out here.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. Of course,” Burke stammered. “I’m so sorry. Making you stand in the rain . . .”

She stepped back into the house and allowed them to come in, but Nikki could feel her resistance. Not many people were happy to see them. Even the perfectly innocent wanted them to go away as soon as possible, as if their presence might attract some dark force into their homes.

Nikki pulled her hood down, ruffled a hand through her hair, and unzipped her jacket, giving the impression she was ready to settle in for a while.

At a glance, she could see that Evi Burke’s home had a cheery feel, with a palette of soft yellow, blue, and white. It had undergone a remodeling at some point, the walls having been opened up so that the spaces flowed one into another. From the entry she could see the living room, a section of the dining room, and the staircase that led up to the second-floor bedrooms.

“What a lovely home,” Seley said, smiling, setting a friendly tone.

Evi Burke wasn’t buying it. She didn’t smile back. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and crossed her arms in front of her defensively. “Thank you. I’m confused. If you’re not here about the note, I don’t understand what you’re doing here.”