Free The Wrong Side of Dead by Jordan Dane Page B

search for more damning evidence to lock Harper away for good. With a viable suspect in hand, CPD might not search too hard for the car. But if trace evidence of the murdered woman could be found in the vehicle, anyone caught with it could be hauled in for questioning as an accomplice.
    With Harper remaining tight-lipped about where he lived, the police might not find his car anytime soon. Stalling the cops on the case didn’t bother her. But with Harper having major gaps in his memory about what had happened, he couldn’t even help himself—or her. The whereabouts of his car was a loose thread she couldn’t let go, but maybe she didn’t have to. She had another option to explore.
    What if Harper hadn’t used his car at all?
    Already on her second pot of coffee, she’d hit the yellow pages since dawn, calling cab companies operating in South Chicago, playing a hunch. If her boy genius had used a taxi, it would satisfy her curiosity on Harper’s Mustang. But even better, she’d have a shot at finding out where the boy lived. Cab companies kept record of the location where fares originated.
    “And me outsmarting you, my stubborn brainy friend, would be priceless,” she muttered, pouring a fresh cup of coffee. But the ring of her cell phone intruded upon the solitude of her morning. She recognized the number.
    “Hey, Sammie. How goes the war against crime?”
    “We could use reinforcements. That’s why you’re on the front line.” She heard the smile in her friend’s voice. “I was calling to let you know that the medical examiner got an ID on the dead woman off her fingerprints, and we got lucky. She had an arrest record.” Sam went into the woman’s list of offenses, but when she was done, her friend added, “She doesn’t sound like anyone Seth would hang with, but what do you think?”
    After hearing about the victim, Jess had a bad feeling.
    “You know, Sam, the kid’s got baggage. And he’s not real chatty about it, but from what I’ve seen, you’re right. Someone like that doesn’t fit. What’s her name?”
    Jess heard the rustle of paper in the background before Sam got back on the line. With every second it took, her gut twisted and tightened into a knot.
    “Her name was Amanda Vincent, street name Desiree,” Sam said.
    Hearing that name jolted Jess wide-awake, confirming her fear. Harper had claimed not to know the dead woman. Had he lied to her? Why had he given Mandy’s name and description—sending her on a wild-goose chase to find a dead woman?
    Her hinky barometer crossed into the red zone—none of this made sense. Gut instinct forced her to keep her suspicions to herself. She didn’t have enough to tell Sam, at least not yet. But with the evidence stacked against her boy, Jess didn’t like the odds. Harper needed someone on his side. And tag, she was it.
    She hoped Harper had kept his mouth shut when the cops questioned him again. By now, the detective in charge would have done that. With CPD having the woman’s identity, they would have started a push for a confession. Any connection Harper had with the woman would be fair game and used against him. And if her boy genius had flinched when he heard the woman’s name, the police would have seen it. His reaction would have been like blood in the water with great white sharks circling. A feeding frenzy.
    “Can you arrange for me to see Harper again, Sam?”
    This time Seth had to talk to her.

CHAPTER 8

    Cook County Jail
Chicago
     

    “I didn’t lie to you, I swear,” Seth insisted, sitting behind the Plexiglas of CPD’s lockup. “I can’t believe she’s…dead.” He looked washed-out, and the dark circles under his eyes looked stark.
    “But you had me chasing a blonde. And Sam just told me Desiree was a brunette. What gives?” Jess asked, putting her elbows on the table.
    “Last I’d seen Mandy, she was a blonde.” He shut his eyes, looking tired. His lower lip trembled, but he covered that up by running both