Evil Never Dies

“Amen to that,” Olimpia said. “Where should I start?”

“Anywhere you’d like.”

Olimpia took a breath. “I thought I was the luckiest woman on earth,” she began. “Not only had I made it into Wayne Be

Before anyone could respond, she added, “It cost me my entire paycheck. I can hardly afford food, let alone rent, but I spent my paycheck on a dress and shoes.”

Lizzy made notes as the woman spoke. There weren’t too many people willing to talk about Wayne Be

“Mr. Be

Lizzy nodded, anything to keep her talking.

“Have you ever heard Wayne Be

“No,” Lizzy said, “I haven’t. But I’ve seen and heard him enough times to know he can charm the lollipop right out of a little girl’s clutches.”

Olimpia fidgeted. “I thought it was strange when he brought me to some old dilapidated house with shingles falling from the roof. Who does interviews in a run-down, low-rent shack with a rusty mailbox?” She shook her head. “Nobody does. But did I listen to my instincts and run off? Did I tell him I’d changed my mind and wanted to leave? Nope,” she said, her voice trembling now. “I followed the man inside, and then I took the drink he offered me. After three sips, I began to feel woozy.”

Olimpia buried her face in the palms of her hands and began to cry.

Jessica moved next to her on the couch and patted her hand. As Lizzy watched Jessica, she felt a sense of pride she didn’t really understand. From the begi

“I’m so sorry,” Olimpia said as she sat up straighter. “I thought I could do this without crying. I guess I was wrong.” Mascara trickled down her face as she said, “Wayne Be

“Did he threaten your family members?”

She smiled then. “He sure did. He threatened to do to my sisters what he had just done to me. He went into great detail about the fate of every family member if I talked to anyone at all. And then he pulled his car to the curb. But this time he didn’t bother getting out. He just smiled at me as if we now shared a unique bond. And then he told me I was special and that he couldn’t wait until next time.”

“Did you go back into the program after that night?”

“Not a chance in hell. I called the rape crisis center and did everything they told me to do. I went straight to the hospital and filled out a police report. That same week, I heard you were spending a lot of time and energy trying to find someone to speak in court against Wayne Be

“I have to be clear about something,” Lizzy told her. “Be

“I’m not worried about him. I wasn’t born yesterday.”

“What about your family?” Jessica asked.

“That’s the best part. He must have mixed me up with some other poor girl, because I don’t have any family.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“Where are you going?”

Nora Belle pulled her hoodie up around her head and face. “Out. I’ll be back.”

The fat slob, Michael, told her he’d like a kiss first, which she knew meant a blow job.

Fuck, she thought, as she headed back over to the couch, where she was always sure to find him if he wasn’t working construction. It was the last thing in the world she wanted to do, but she liked having a place to come home to and food to eat, and it was the price she had to pay.

She didn’t even bother looking at him as she unzipped his pants and got to work. Having his penis in her mouth was like sucking on a rubbery, slimy carrot. Maybe it was time to find someone else to keep a roof over her head. Guys like Michael were a dime a dozen.

“Hey, not so much with the teeth, OK?”

Fucking asshole. She thought about biting his dick right off. She might do it, too, just not this time. When she was done, she went to the kitchen sink and cleaned up, then walked out the door without another word.

The night was chilly. She rubbed her hands together as she made her way through the streets of Sacramento.

An hour had passed by the time she found the Naomi bitch. The woman was tucked away for the night in her red sleeping bag in the doorway of a long-shuttered discount store. Red bag, red hair. When Nora Belle first met her, the woman talked about how she used to be somebody, as if anyone fucking cared. How she went to college and used to have a job with the state.

Big fucking deal.

Nora Belle hated the woman like nobody else. Plopping down astraddle her now, she wrenched the sleeping bag down and started pummeling away. Every time her fist made contact with the woman’s face, she felt a jolt of electricity race through her body.

Beneath her, Naomi struggled.

Someone shouted from under her. It was not Naomi’s voice. She stopped what she was doing, climbed off, and pulled the sleeping bag all the way down so she could see who was in there.

“What the hell are you doing?” the guy asked, his nose bleeding all over the place.

She was on all fours, staring at the man. “Where’s Naomi?”

“Who?”

“This is Naomi’s sleeping bag. Where did you get it?”

“I found it on the side of the road.” His hands were covering his nose. “I think you might have broken my nose.”

She looked around, pushed herself up, and started searching through his shopping cart.

The loser staggered to his feet. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” She grabbed a few of his things, including a picture that looked as if it might have sentimental value and ripped it into tiny pieces. “You’re being inducted into the Ghost Hall of Fame.”

The man had long red hair, just like Naomi. She was going to have to pay closer attention next time—not that it mattered. They were basically all the same.

He grabbed hold of her sweatshirt and yanked it down over her shoulder as he tried to stop her from going through his things.

She backhanded him, and he staggered back, leaving her to gape at the damage he’d done. “You broke my zipper! You just ruined my favorite sweatshirt.”

She jumped on him then, bit his hand, and clawed at his face. All she could see through her blinding rage were the whites of his eyes as she ground her knee into his nuts, determined to show him what happened when someone like him dared to lay a hand on someone like her.