Free Rules of Crime by L. J. Sellers Page B

Luckily, they both had newer smartphones and it fit. The battery icon began to flash.
    While she waited for the phone to charge, a parking-ticket enforcer stopped next to her. Evans held up her badge and waved him on. Jackass. He knew she was a cop. Evans’ stomach growled, and she realized the soup hadn’t been enough lunch after her kickboxing workout that morning. She dug into her shoulder bag, hoping to find a half-eaten protein bar. No luck, but the survival bag had everything else. In addition to all the crime scene tools she carried—evidence bags, plastic gloves, cameras, and tweezers—she also kept band-aids, a tiny sewing kit, a utility knife, sunscreen, and a miniflashlight. Growing up with alcoholic parents in a backwoods cabin outside of Fairbanks, Alaska, had taught her to be prepared for anything. Surprises were the enemy. Six years as a patrol cop had reinforced that learning.
    Leaving Lyla’s phone plugged in, she clicked the text message icon and began to read. The last text, sent at 7:10 p.m. Saturday evening, had gone to Mom and said, Too busy to talk now. I’ll call you this weekend. Evans’ heart went out to the girl’s mother, who was probably racing up the interstate now, frantic with worry that she’d never speak to her daughter again. You never knew what your last communication was with a loved one until it was too late.
    Evans scrolled to the previous text, an incoming message from Josh: Do you have notes from biology class today?
    Lyla’s quadmate had mentioned Josh, but she’d said he and Lyla were just friends. Before that, someone named Taylor had texted: Be there at 8.
    A shimmer of excitement traveled up Evans’ neck. Taylor must have planned to meet Lyla in the graveyard. Who was Taylor? A guy or a girl? The assault on Lyla had been so violent, Evans was inclined to believe a male had committed it. She looked through the phone’s contact list and found Taylor Harris, but with no picture and no details. Was Taylor a new friend or a casual acquaintance?
    Evans’ blood pulsed with possibilities, like a hound picking up the scent of prey. She played out a few scenarios. She could call Taylor and try to arrange a meeting, but if he was guilty or sensed danger, he might panic and hang up or simply not show. It made more sense to find Taylor Harris and confront him personally. If she could do it quickly.
    Evans used her own phone and called Brooke Hammond, Lyla’s friend who’d reported her missing. Brooke picked up right away and whispered, “Is this important? Is Lyla okay?”
    “I haven’t heard anything yet. Why are you whispering?”
    “I’m in class but it hasn’t started yet.”
    “I need to know who Taylor Harris is.”
    A hesitation. “I’ve heard her name but I don’t really know her.”
    “Don’t fuck with me.” Evans rarely swore at citizens, but her adrenaline was pumping. “Lyla was supposed to meet Taylor Saturday night. So she probably knows what happened. I need to find her right now.”
    “I think she belongs to the sorority Lyla wanted to join.” Brooke spoke so softly, Evans strained to hear.
    “Where can I find Taylor?”
    “She works at the campus daycare center.”
    “Where’s that?”
    “It’s at Sixteenth and Moss.”
    “What does Taylor look like?”
    “A cheerleader. Pretty and skinny, with long ash-blonde hair.”
    “Where is the sorority located?”
    “I don’t know. I have to go.” Brooke hung up.
    Evans was glad she hadn’t left campus. Moss Street was only a few blocks away. Taylor Harris might be in class, or at home sleeping, or damn near anywhere, but it was worth checking.
    Inside the daycare center, she was hit with the aroma of applesauce and baby wipes, while high-pitched little voices overrode her thoughts. Small children were a mystery to her, and Evans had never experienced a desire to breed. People told her she would eventually, but she was thirty-three and didn’t see it happening.
    A young man noticed her and