The Girl and the Field of Bones (Emma Griffin FBI Mystery Book 10)

by A J Rivers

  “I’m coming, Xavier,” I call out, judging the distance to the swing beside me. I don’t need to go all the way around; I can just cut across, but it still requires moving from swing to swing, high in the air. And Xavier doesn’t have much time. Whether his hand is between the rope and the front of his neck or not; it will cut off his circulation and then choke him to death.

  I take a deep breath and let go of the chain with my left hand. As evenly as I can, I reach out to grab the swing closest to me. It bounces off my fingertips. I nearly fall and grasp hard with my right hand to hold myself up, cursing under my breath.

  My feet push down into the swing, and I rock a little, and a thought dawns on me. I keep the rocking going, and in just a couple of movements, I am touching the swing next to me.

  Reaching out, I grab it and pull it with me on the backswing. As soon as I rock back again, I take the leap, clamping hard and jumping from one swing to the next. Both hands hold onto the chain tightly as I get my feet into place. I made it.

  Only a few dozen to go.

  “Just hold on, Xavier,” I call out, trying not to let panic fill my voice. He has only a minute or two left before the pressure will be too great. I can’t take my time.

  I swing to the next seat, and then the next. If I wasn’t so petrified for Xavier and for my own safety, I would feel like Tarzan, going from tree to tree. As it is, all I can think about is what happens if I slip, or worse, if Xavier does.

  I am two swings away from him when I can make out a few of the words he is saying for the first time. I half expected a prayer or some mantra to keep him focused. Instead, it sounds like numbers. Statistics.

  “Seventy-two percent chance at twenty feet, roughly sixty-six at twenty-one feet,” he’s muttering.

  I make my way to the swing beside him and wrap my legs around the chain as to not lose my grip. I wrap my hands around the rope and tug, but I can’t lift him without leverage. The pull on the rope also tightened it around his neck, and Xavier gags below me.

  “Untie me,” he sputters, his eyes finding mine.

  “You will fall, Xavier. It will kill you.”

  “Not from this height. Untie me. Seventy-two percent chance of survival. Untie me.”

  I look at the noose behind his neck. Even if I could reach it easily, it would take a few minutes to unravel it.

  “I can’t,” I say. “But I have an idea.”

  I reach under my shirt to my bra, a special pocket on the side of one cup that hides a small but sharp switchblade. I pull it out. Xavier looks at it with awe.

  “Sam insisted I carry more than one weapon,” I tell him, trying to keep my voice conversational. Keeping Xavier and myself calm is the most important thing. One wrong move and we both go down without warning.

  “You two love each other very much,” Xavier says, his voice becoming labored now. He tries a smile, but it doesn’t form.

  I try to smile too. “We do,” I say. “Are you sure about this?”

  “Seventy-two percent sure,” he says matter-of-factly. “Sixty-six if we are twenty-one feet up.”

  “I don’t like this,” I say, placing the blade on the rope, just under where it is tied to the chair.

  “Neither does the rope,” Xavier counters. The part of me overwhelmed with thousands of emotions at once wants to laugh, but I keep my focus.

  I saw until I feel the rope start to give way. Xavier looks up at me, and a wry smile crosses his face. I see his mouth is stained with dried blood. He nods.

  “It’s about to go,” I tell him.

  “I’m ready,” he says.

  There is a snap, and Xavier tumbles down. He lands with a sickening thud, and I scream for Lilith to lower me. The ride jerks to life again, and I unravel my leg from the chain. The ride is still spinning as it lowers, and I keep my eyes trained on him as best I can. When I am almost to the ground, and the swing is rotated away from Xavier, another gunshot splits the air.

  I jump off the swing and tear back towards Xavier. A small smear of blood is under his head, but when I reach him, he doesn’t seem to be shot. His eyes are open, and he looks up at me, seemingly okay.

  “That didn’t feel good,” he says, and I exhale. I realize that I hadn’t breathed out since the shot rang through the air. “The best way to fall from that distance is on your side. People try to land on their backs and break their spine. Or their front and shatter their face. But on your side…”

  “Lilith?” I call out, looking up from the still mumbling Xavier. I scan the area where she had been standing by the controls, but she is gone. “Lilith?” I stand, looking all around me.

  “Ninety-four percent chance of a broken hip,” Xavier continues.

  “Xavier, I’ll be right back,” I say. He nods but continues his statistics. If that distracts him from the pain he’s got to be in; I’ll take it.

  “Lilith?” I say as I reach the control box. No one is there. Lilith seems to have disappeared.

  And so has the Dragon.

  I run for as far as the adrenaline will take me. Pain and exhaustion soon slow me down, and I make my way back to the swings to check on Xavier.

  He's still lying on the cement, rattling off statistics and soothing himself with reassurances about how young he is and the rate of bone healing. I didn't find Lilith or Dragon. I'm about to turn around and try to force my way through the park again when I hear sirens. They scream through the trees and echo around me. Moments later, I see the lights flashing.

  There's no reason to scream out. They know where to come. Lilith must have called them. She didn't want to be around when they got here, but she wanted to make sure Xavier and I got the help we need. It only takes a few more seconds before I see the ambulance. Behind it are several police cars and a second ambulance.

  The EMTs stream out of the first ambulance as soon as it stops and race toward me. I shake my head, holding up my hands.

  “Not me,” I tell him. “Don't check me first. Check on Xavier. He’s over there under the ride.”

  They take their equipment and run over to him. It only takes a moment for them to call out for the gurney. I step back and watch them carefully slide him onto a transfer mat and bring him up onto the wheeled table.

  As they go by, I make sure Xavier can see me.

  “Are you going to be okay?” I ask.

  “I'll be fine,” he says. “I can do this.”

  “Touch him as little as possible,” I tell the EMTs. “Tell him before you do anything. Turn the lights off.”

  “You're not my mother,” Xavier jokes. I smile at him, and he returns it. “Thank you.”

  “I'll come to see you as soon as I can,” I say. “I'll have them call Dean.”

  He doesn't have much of a reaction. The emergency responders have already injected him with a sedative so his body can relax. His eyes flutter closed, and I feel a squeeze of worry in my chest. I hate that he's going alone. And he's going to wake up in a bright, unfamiliar room and might not remember everything that happened. I can only hope Dean will be there.

  Once Xavier is loaded into the ambulance and it has driven away, the team from the second bus comes toward me.

  “Do you want to climb in by yourself?” one of them asks.

  “No,” I say. They start to move the gurney out, and I shake my head. “No, that's not necessary either. What I mean is I'm not going to the hospital.”

  “Ma'am, you really should be checked out. You look as if you've been through something pretty rough yourself,” he says.

  “You can check me over, but I'm not going to the hospital. I don't have time right now.”

  “What do you mean you don't have time right now?” he asks.

  “Look me over,” I say. “Then let me go.”

  It seems to take forever for them to check over each of my injuries and clean up the ones they think are the most egregious. I'm running purely on adrenaline and determination. I can't feel the deep cuts or the stitches that have been torn away from my arm.
I will. There's going to come a time, probably soon, when it all hits me.

  I can only hope I've done what I need to get done first.

  When they've relented, I thank the EMTs and run for my car. If I get there fast enough, I might be able to get away before the police realize they should be debriefing me on what happened. I'm lucky enough that they're so focused on trying to find Dragon that I can drive away.

  My destination isn't very far. I get to Lilith's house and park. The door to her house is standing open, and I walk up to it.

  “Lilith?” I call. “Are you home?”

  There's no response. I walk around to the back of the house. I don't see anything. A tug in my chest sets my feet running toward the cornfield. I break through the barrier of trees and see the dark outline of someone sitting in the finished grid. All the bones have been removed, so the officers are no longer on duty. She's alone.

  “Lilith?” I call, walking carefully into the field. “Are you okay?”

  I realize she's sitting right where Lakyn Monroe was found. My heart leaps into my throat when I see the knife in her hand. The tip presses into her wrist, bringing up a small bead of blood.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “I watched her,” she tells me. “I didn't want to. Every second of it was horrible. But I couldn't look away. I couldn't let her be alone. So, I watched her.”

  “You watched her do what?” I ask.

  “Die,” she says.

  “You were here?”

  “Of course, I was. I'm always here. People just don't see me. I couldn't move that night. They had changed me. I don't know if it was because they wanted me to watch, or for some other reason. They rarely tell me. But I didn't close my eyes. Even if she didn't realize I was there, I wanted her to have someone. Someone to be there for her last moments.”

  “You put the cage over her,” I say.

  She nods and makes a soft sound of acknowledgement. “She was too beautiful not to. I couldn't stand the thought of the birds and the animals getting to her. I knew somebody would be looking for her. Some of them, nobody ever did. Either they weren't missed, or there just wasn't a way to find them. But her, she was something special. I knew someone would find her. I wanted them to find as much of her as they possibly could. I visited her. As much as I could. While I took care of the corn, I took care of her.”

  “All this time, it's been you,” I say.

  She nods and digs the knife a little deeper.

  “Stop,” I say. “Don't do that.”

  “I can't do this anymore, Emma. I've been doing it far too long.”

  “Why?” I ask.

  “I fell in love,” she says. “I was already married. But our marriage wasn't a happy one. If you listen really closely and read between all the lines, you'll find the truth to what it was really like to be married to Michael Duprey. Some moments very special. When he wanted to, he could treat me wonderfully. And he had the means to do it. But he also had the means to do it for any other woman who caught his eye.”

  “The, he did have an affair,” I say.

  “So many more than just one,” she laughs caustically. “I knew about all of them. I pretended I didn't. It was easier that way. But I knew. I knew every time he had found somebody else. I could follow the progression of their relationship based on my own. But he always managed to be discreet.”

  “Until Lindsey Granger,” I say.

  She makes a sad sound and nods. “Until her. The thing is, I think he really loved her. I don't know if he ever told her that. Or if she had any idea other than the ring he gave her. But I really do think she was important to him. I just didn't want to give up that life. It was his idea to move to Salt Valley and try again. He didn't end up trying very hard, and my heart found somewhere else to be.”

  “Who did you fall in love with?” I ask.

  “Sterling Jennings,” she says. “He was a friend of Michael's. He was strong and confident. He was funny and made me feel beautiful. The more I loved him, the harder it got to be with Michael. He hated that Lindsey left him, and he was cruel and distant. I let Sterling convince me the only way I could live my life was to be without Michael. That I needed to save myself. He would always choose Rachel. Spoiled, vicious child, just a touch too fixated on her father.”

  “You killed him,” I say.

  Tears stream silently down her face, and for the first time, I realize how pretty she is. Her face is etched by time and worry, but the delicate details of beauty are still there.

  “I thought I was getting my freedom,” she says. “But I was just buying my way into hell. Now, it can be done. It can be over.”

  “No, Lilith,” I say as she turns the knife. “Don't do that.”

  “I've done too much, Emma. I've been here and seen far too much. I know the faces that belong to the bones in this cornfield. I know what has come up out of that tunnel beneath the temple. I can't do any of it anymore. And I can't let them have me. They know what I've done. They know I helped you. I can't let them have me.”

  “I can protect you,” I say. “None of this is your fault. They manipulated and intimidated you.”

  “Emma, I just can't. Every day of the last ten years, I've lived with this. And a constant reminder of what brought me here. I could never escape it. It was right there, all the time. I shouldn't be here. I don't deserve to be here. They took everything out of me. Everything that ever was worth anything. I’m ready for this to be over. Thank you, Emma. Thank you for finding her. And for finding me.”

  In one swift motion, Lilith slits her wrist from the heel of her hand down nearly to her elbow. I gasp and lunge toward her. Yanking off my jacket, I tie it tight around forearm.

  “You are worth more, Lilith. You are worth far more.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Horror rushes up through me, but I don't let it take over. Lilith needs me right now.

  The blood is gushing fast, and she is already sagging, her eyes rolling back in her head. I tighten my jacket around her arm even more and pull her up to her feet.

  “Come on,” I tell her. “We have to get back to my car. Come on. Come with me.”

  She's weak and barely conscious, but I get her to follow me. I can't leave her sitting alone in the cornfield. If I do, I'll come back, and she'll be gone. I keep my phone in my hand and check it every couple of steps as we make our way back toward her house. Finally, I see one little bar appear. I call 911 immediately.

  “This is Agent Emma Griffin, in urgent need of an ambulance,” I tell them before the dispatcher even has a chance to respond. I give her the address. “Hurry. Please.”

  When we get to my car, I open the trunk and pull out my first aid kit. It has a tourniquet inside, and I'm able to secure it into place around her thin upper arm. One arm stays tight around her, propping her up as we sit on the hood of my car.

  “Stay awake,” I say. “Stay awake, Lilith. Don't let them take you like this. Don't let them have you. If you leave like this, you are offering yourself over to them. Don't let them. They've had enough. They have taken enough from you. Stay with me.”

  I keep talking, rocking her gently back and forth so the movement will jostle her awake if she lets herself drift off. I don't know what I'm talking about. I don't even know if any of the words even go together or form coherent sentences. All that matters is that she hears my voice. She knows I'm here. She's not alone. I won't let her be.

  It seems to take forever, but finally, the ambulance screams into her yard, and the team I sent away earlier rushes out.

  “She slit her wrist,” I tell them. “The cut goes nearly to her elbow. It's wrapped in a jacket, and I applied a tourniquet.”

  “Good job,” one of the EMTs says. “We can take it from here.”

  As they are loading her into the back of the ambulance, Lilith reaches for my hand. I take hers and squeeze it.

  “They'll take care of you. You're safe with them,” I say. She nods but doesn't let go of my hand. "Can
I ride with her?"

  When they agree, I climb up with them and sit beside Lilith, gripping her hand as they fit an oxygen mask over her face and call ahead to the hospital to prepare a trauma team.

  As soon as we get to the hospital, the doors fly open. They run her into the back so fast I barely catch a glimpse of her before she disappears behind the double doors. I walk slowly inside.

  “Ma'am, are you all right? Do you need help?” a nurse asks, approaching me.

  I look down at the blood covering me.

  “No,” I say. “It's not my blood. Thank you.”

  Sitting in the waiting room, I call Dean and Sam. Tears are streaming down my face as I talk to Sam.

  “I'm coming to get you,” Sam says. “Just wait right where you are. I’ll be there as soon as I possibly can.”

  Time is glacial. Half of me waits for any word about Lilith. Half of me waits for Sam. The clock ticks. At some point, I manage to clear my head enough from the shock to go to the restroom and wash off some of the blood from my face and hands. I return to my chair, the dull throb of pain in my shoulder growing louder and louder with every second.

  Finally, the doors open, and he runs inside. I want to jump into his arms, but I don't have it in me. I don't need to. He drops to his knees in front of me and gathers me against him.

  “I'm going to take you back to the hotel,” he says.

  “I have to be here for Lilith,” I say.

  “Emma, you need to get home now. I’ll let them know to get in touch with you as soon as they know anything about her,” he says. “You need to rest.”

  “Before we go, there's somewhere I need to stop,” I say.

  “Emma…”

  “Sam, I need to do this.”

  Sam frowns but nods. I can tell it’s breaking his heart to see me like this, to go along with this, but he does it anyway because he loves me. And I love him.

  “Where do you need to go?” he asks.

  “To the precinct. I need them to know I have a name for the body wrapped in the sheet in the cornfield,” I say. “It's Lindsey Granger.”