Exposure

by Kathy Reichs

Half rising from his desk, Corcoran called to our backs. “Don’t do anything stupid, you hear?” But we’d already disappeared down the hall.

  Ben mashed the elevator button, then pushed it again and again.

  My patience only lasted until the doors closed. “Well? What the heck was that?”

  “We made a mistake.” Ben stared at the lit arrow, willing the car to descend faster.

  “How so?” For once, Hi passed on a pithy quip.

  “We came to the wrong place.” I saw a glimmer of hope in Ben’s eyes. “But if we hurry, we’ll still have plenty of daylight.”

  “So where are we going?” I couldn’t help but ask.

  “To the one person who’ll know where Tory is. Or how to find her.”

  I awoke in semidarkness.

  Blink.

  Blink blink blink.

  A cool hand was stroking my forehead.

  “About time,” said a familiar voice. “I was starting to worry.”

  Lurching upright, I grabbed the dim form hovering over me.

  “Ella!” Wrapping both arms around my friend. “You’re okay!”

  “I wouldn’t go that far.” She hugged me back just as fiercely.

  Eyes adjusting to the gloom, I took in my surroundings. Packed earth floor. Dank, moldy stonework. A single lightbulb burning beyond a line of rusty steel bars.

  Bars I knew had been forged by Philip Simmons.

  Like a bad dream.

  I’d joined Ella in the ransom video cell.

  “How long have you been here?” I whispered.

  “Two days, best I can tell.” Ella’s long black hair was tied in a makeshift braid. Bits of leaves and twigs poked from the messy tangle. Her face was pale, her eyes red and puffy. I could tell she’d been crying.

  “It’s hard to say.” Ella gestured to the gaping emptiness above our heads. “The light never changes down here, but that bastard feeds me every once in a while. A bucket comes down on a chain. I think we’re at the bottom of a well.”

  Reality crashed in, full force.

  I’d been kidnapped by Detective Hawfield.

  At the crucial moment, my powers had betrayed me.

  What about the boys?

  “Was there anyone with me? Did Hawfield mention my friends?”

  Ella shook her head. “He brought you alone. That was the first time I’d seen him since he shoved me in here. You were totally out. I’ve been trying to wake you for a while. For a moment, I . . . I thought maybe . . .”

  I grabbed her hand, squeezed tightly. “I’m fine. And we’re getting out of here.”

  “I’d like that very much, Tor.” Her voice faltered. “I’m pretty scared.”

  Rising, I gave her another quick hug. “Don’t worry. We will. I promise.”

  Releasing my friend, I surveyed the murky chamber. “What is this place?”

  “An actual dungeon,” Ella replied with disgust. “Used to punish slaves who got out of line. We’re near an old plantation, I think. But deep in the woods, a few miles away.”

  She must’ve read my surprise.

  “He talks too much,” Ella said. “Hawfield explained the cell’s origin when he dumped me in here. I think he was trying to freak me out.” She shuddered, rubbing her arms. “It worked.”

  I tested one of the steel bars. The inch-thick metal didn’t budge.

  “Have you seen the twins?” I asked.

  “No.” Her eyes grew troubled. “I don’t know what he’s done with them.”

  “Oh, they’re fine.” Bitter words. “Though I wish they weren’t.”

  Seeing her expression, I explained what had occurred earlier in the barn. How the twins had duped us all, then been double-crossed.

  When I finished, some of the fire returned to Ella’s eyes.

  “Those spoiled brats!” She yanked her grungy braid. “How could they be so stupid?”

  “The twins got away, but I doubt they’ll help us. Those two will just keep running and never look back.”

  “They better run far,” Ella hissed. Then she hiccupped, fighting back tears.

  “How did you end up in here?” I asked, trying to distract her.

  “The bastard tricked me,” Ella said acidly. “It’s my fault, I guess. I saw Rex Gable Thursday night. He came into the Flying Tomato, drinking scotch with his golf buddies. He just sat there, laughing and joking, without a care in the world. It infuriated me. So I called Detective Hawfield and told him what we suspected. Oops.”

  Her eyes found mine. “Tory, I told him about you, too. What we saw at the art gala.”

  “It’s okay,” I reassured her. “How could you know? Just tell me what happened.”

  “Hawfield told me to meet him in the parking lot, and not to tell anyone what I suspected. Or that I was meeting with the police.” Ella groaned in frustration. “Like an idiot, I did exactly as instructed. I took a break, snuck outside, and met him alone. Ten words into my story, I saw his arm swing, and suddenly I was on the gravel. Next thing I know, he’s pushing me down a tunnel that led here.”

  She covered her mouth. “Tory, I’m so sorry. I led that bastard to both of us.”

  “Shh.” I pulled her close again. “Don’t you dare blame yourself. He’s the monster.”

  Something crunched.

  Our heads whipped in unison.

  I heard a throaty chuckle. “Aw, how touching.”

  Hawfield was standing on the other side of the bars, wearing jeans and a red polo. He wiped both hands on his shirt, then powered an electric lantern. With the added light, I could see a narrow opening in the wall behind him.

  The way out?

  “Two songbirds, trapped in a cage,” Hawfield gloated.

  I glared at the detective. “You’re a psychopath.”

  “If it makes you feel better,” Hawfield said lightly, “I was tracking your movements long before this girl called me. But that cinched it—I wasn’t ready to pin the whole song and dance on Rex Gable just yet. Hadn’t fully covered my tracks. That steak needed a bit more time to marinate, and you two poking around and spreading rumors might’ve upset my apple cart, so to speak. Couldn’t have it.”

  Ice prickled my spine.

  “You were tracking me?”

  “Ever since you broke into the Gable house.” An expression of true bafflement twisted his features. “Gotta admit, that shocked me. I sat there and watched you and those boys do it, with no idea what you were thinking. You even found the fake bloodstain. Amazing! I won’t pretend that episode didn’t rattle me. It did. I ended up keeping our CSI boys away from that spot while I considered how to deal.”

  I felt Ella’s startled glance. No time to explain. “But we didn’t learn anything that night.”

  Hawfield stepped forward and casually leaned against the bars. His lantern sent shadows dancing up the walls.

  Ella and I retreated across the cell.

  “See, that’s what I thought, too.” His confusion seemed genuine. “But, next thing I know, I get a call from the witch over in Folly Beach, and she’s telling me that the same four teens were asking questions about my zodiac card. Who told you about Ophiuchus, anyway?”

  Answer him. Trade information.

  “We stole a photocopy from the DA’s desk.”

  Hawfield nodded in appreciation. “The fat kid. By the window. Ballsy.”

  “Why would Clara Gordon call you?” I ventured, hoping to keep Hawfield engaged.

  The more he talked, the less he could do . . . unpleasant things.

  “Oh, I put her on alert,” Hawfield absently scratched his cheek. “All the other psychic astro-quacks, too. I wanted to know if anyone started asking questions about lost zodiac signs. Good thing I took the precaution, too.”

  It made sense. Hawfield was a more careful planne
r than I’d thought.

  “After that doozy,” the detective went on, “I told Bolton’s headmaster that you kids were officially ‘persons of interest’ in the Gable case. That helped me keep tabs as well.”

  He smiled wide. “Paugh said you girls were close. A fact I took note of.”

  I shook my head in disgust. “All that work, just to steal some money.”

  Hawfield snorted. “A lot of money. And it was work.”

  “You’re sick,” Ella hissed.

  He waved off the comment. “You were easy to bag, but damn, Brennan, Morris Island might as well be on Neptune. It’s near impossible to invent an official-sounding pretext to get out there. I had to go special ops.”

  The beach. My shadowy attacker.

  Thinking of Coop, my temper sparked.

  “How’s the leg, Detective? Or did my wolfdog bite you in the ass, instead?”

  His smirk vanished. “That rabid mongrel should be put down. Maybe I’ll see to that, when I’m finished here.” The grin returned. “I missed you on the beach, but then you walked right into my arms at the plantation, didn’t you? That silly rock. I was careless there. Nearly wet myself when you brought it downtown, but it all worked out in the end. Crazy backflips notwithstanding. You’re an agile little imp, I’ll give you that. Almost had me in the barn, until you lost your nerve.”

  My nerve was fine and dandy. It was my brain that short-circuited.

  “Why zodiac cards?” Ella’s voice sounded small and weak.

  “You mean my pals Ophiuchus and Cetus?” Hawfield chuckled. “Seemed like just the kind of occult, hippie mumbo jumbo that would rile the media, but couldn’t possibly lead back to me. I have an old book on the stars that my daddy gave me, along with a set of cards he bought at a garage sale. Those two fit the bill.”

  He laughed, louder this time. “Lost signs! Deadly portents! Just the kind of New Age hooey to get reporters in a lather. Of course, I had to spoon-feed the knuckleheads every step of the way. Journalism is a dying art.”

  Clever.

  Wincing inwardly, I thought of all the time we’d wasted trying to decipher the meaning behind those zodiac cards. Pointless.

  “Dropping Ophiuchus by the Gable house was easy.” Hawfield sniffled in the damp air. “Planting Cetus at the Francis place took a little more doing, but I pulled it off. But I’m all done with cards now. Don’t think I’ll bother with Dr. Howard’s condo.”

  The sound of Kit’s name on Hawfield’s tongue infuriated me.

  Did my father even know I was missing? What would the boys tell him?

  “You’ve been sabotaging these cases from the beginning,” I said.

  No wonder the investigations were inept.

  The CPD was being led around by the nose.

  Hawfield watched me with amusement. “Of course, Tory. Kinda stands to reason, since, you know, I’m the kidnapper. And I’ve got my bases covered. My colleagues won’t trust anything your friends have to say. I’ve left specific instructions to ignore those boys. They’re considered highly unreliable.”

  “Bastard.”

  The Virals didn’t know who not to trust. And I couldn’t get a message to them.

  Ella inched closer to me. “So now you’re doing this alone?”

  “I’ll still pin everything on Rex.” Rueful shake of the head. “That man doesn’t have a friend in the world. Gambling debts up the wazoo, plus the whole trust fund angle with his stepkids. He’s the perfect fall guy.”

  A flaw in his plan occurred to me. I seized on the idea.

  “Lucy and Peter are loose. They could blow your cover with one call. There might not be a dollar in ransom coming your way.”

  “True.” The affability drained from Hawfield’s voice. “But I doubt the twins are ready to face the music yet. They’ll go to ground and keep quiet. For a little while, at least. Long enough for me to collect the dough, I think. But I won’t be able to stay in town after all.”

  The detective shrugged. “Disappointing, but five million bones should salve my wounds. I planned for this eventuality, too. Gotta cover every angle, I always say.”

  Then his expression hardened, like an invisible mask slipping into place. “You girls are my insurance policy. Double coverage, so to speak. If the twins blab, I’ve still got your lives as leverage. For a bit, anyway.”

  His last words chilled my heart.

  “You’ll regret this,” I whispered.

  “Maybe.” He turned to leave. “But not as much as you, I expect.”

  I’d never driven so fast.

  “Slow down, Blue!” Shelton shouted at me, flopping sideways in the backseat as we swerved onto Folly Road. “We won’t help anybody if we crash and burn!”

  Reluctantly, I reduced speed.

  My heart was in my throat. I was close to panic.

  Tory was missing.

  A lunatic might have her caged like an animal.

  My knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. The Explorer accelerated once more.

  We had to get her back. I had to get her back.

  If something happens to Tory . . .

  I stomped on the gas, forcing the negative thoughts away.

  Find her. Find her find her find her.

  “I take it we’re heading home.” Hi was staring at the passing landscape, his face a sickly green. He didn’t do well with speed. “You gonna tell Kit?”

  “Not Kit.” I swerved to pass a slow-moving truck. “We need the mutt.”

  “Cooper?” Shelton’s head poked between the front seats. “Why?”

  “We get the wolfdog.” Swerve. “Flare.” Accelerate. “Find Tory.” Pass.

  I swung back into our lane. A bus flew by. Horns blared.

  “Great plan.” Hi’s fingers were imbedded in the armrest. “If we’re alive to attempt it!”

  The miles roared past, but not fast enough for me. Reaching Folly Beach, I turned left and shot toward Morris Island, crossing the bridge, only slowing as we approached our complex.

  Wheeling my Explorer into its usual spot, I spun to face Hi and Shelton.

  “Here’s the thing.” This might be a tough sell. “We can’t tell Kit anything.”

  “His only daughter’s been kidnapped!” Shelton shouted.

  “Then how do we get Coop?” Hi asked at the same time.

  “We have to sneak him out somehow.” I tried to explain, though long speeches aren’t my thing. “Look, if we tell Kit that Tory’s been abducted, we’ll have to tell him everything. Then he’ll march us back to the police, where we’ll have to repeat the whole story all over again. After that, our parents will never let us out of their sight, which means we’ll be no help to Tory. And they won’t know where to look anyway!”

  “But we don’t either,” Shelton said glumly.

  “Coop will.” My voice was more confident than I felt. “He and Tory have that crazy bond. Some mental connection. We all do, but not like those two. The wolfdog will know where to go.” I hope.

  Hi was nodding. “Flaring together, maybe we can sense Tory’s location.”

  “Exactly.” I pinned Shelton with a hard look. “But if we tell her father, we’ll never get the chance.”

  Not that I’d let Kit stop me. Nothing is going to stop me.

  Shelton hesitated, then, “You’re right. But if this fails—”

  “We go straight to Kit.” I pushed my hair behind my ears and tied it off with a rubber band. “I’m worried Corcoran might’ve called him already.”

  “Doubtful,” said Hi. “The way the cops just reacted, I doubt they’ll help at all.”

  “More reason to do this ourselves.” I took a deep breath. Wiped sweaty palms on my black tee. “You guys ready?”

  Two shaky nods. Best I could expect.

  Exiting the SUV, we slunk toward
Tory’s unit. I didn’t really have a plan.

  Turns out, I didn’t need one.

  The door to the garage was unlocked. Kit’s 4Runner was gone.

  Relieved, I hurried to the flower pot where Tory hid an extra house key.

  Not many secrets on Morris Island.

  Opening the interior door, I was instantly steamrolled by eighty-five pounds of furry beast.

  Coop exploded into the garage, bouncing like a live wire. He whined, growled, and pawed the ground, clearly in distress. Then, baring his teeth, the wolfdog fired outside.

  “Stop him!” I shouted, clawing dust from my eyes.

  “Stop him!?” Hi spread his arms. “How? That’s like stepping in front of a freight train with teeth.”

  Emerging from the garage, I saw Coop’s tail as it disappeared down the road.

  “Damn!” I didn’t know what to do. It’s not like we could force him to join us. Not that much dog, all riled up.

  Think, Blue! Tory’s counting on you!

  But I blanked. Felt close to melting down.

  Tory was the one who made plans. Not stupid me. Right then, I just wanted to smash something.

  Shelton grabbed my sleeve. “Let’s flare, quick! Maybe we can call him back.”

  I nodded swiftly, grateful for a course of action. Closing my eyes, I called out the beast.

  In the beginning, I’d struggled to light a flare. Even a year later I still needed to be angry. But after months of secret practice sessions—pushing myself, testing my limits—summoning the wolf had become second nature. Seductively easy. Flaring felt as natural as breathing.

  A single thought of some monster hurting Tory . . .

  SNAP.

  I felt the familiar rush. Relished the surge of energy that came with it.

  My senses exploded with supernatural intensity.

  How can Tory think this is bad? How could anyone deny themselves this pleasure?

  I glanced at Hi and Shelton. Both had switched on.

  “Now what?” Hi asked. “This is the part where Tory does her thing.”

  “She talks about glowing lines.” Shelton was still panting. “Connecting us, in her subconscious.”

  Squeezing my lids tight, I tried to imagine what Tory described. Tried to picture Cooper. Tory. Me, Shelton, and Hi. The Virals, together as one. Linked. Body, mind, and soul.