I’m going to stop by Marty’s room to see him, then check on Gus. Give me about thirty minutes.
And when he got there, he’d tell her about Zoe.
See you there.
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
Penny claimed a booth in the back of the restaurant and shrugged out of her flight jacket. The breakfast crowd had thinned and there were only a few people scattered at the tables. She’d ordered two coffees in to-go cups, hers black with sugar and Holt’s with cream and a pump of chocolate.
Right in the middle of her first sip, Holt stepped through the door. As always when in his presence, her pulse went haywire. She sucked in a breath and the liquid went down the wrong way. A coughing spasm took over and Holt hurried to her.
“You okay?”
She nodded and slipped into another round of coughing. He eyed her as though unsure if he should laugh or be concerned. That made her giggle, which sent her into another spasm. Finally, she caught her breath. “I’m fine.” The words sounded strangled to her ears. “Really,” she said. “I swallowed wrong.”
“No kidding. I never would have guessed that one.”
“Ha ha.” Her next sip went down like it was supposed to and she set the cup on the napkin.
Holt snagged his drink and blew on it. “Did you get any sleep?”
“A little. I felt safe enough at the base and was comfortable on the sofa, so yeah. But I had an annoying visitor this morning.” She told him about the reporter and Holt scowled.
“Do I need to have a chat with him?” he asked.
“No. I handled it.” She hoped. “How are Marty and Gus?”
“Marty’s chomping at the bit to get back to the investigation. Gus is still hanging in there.” He leaned forward. “Listen, I need to tell you something about—” His phone buzzed and he frowned. “Hold on. I need to take this.”
“Something about the investigation?”
“Yeah.” He snapped the phone to his ear. “What’s up?”
“ERT’s gone over the car Rabor and his girlfriend abandoned at the base of the mountain.” Penny could hear the voice on the other end of the line and looked away, trying not to listen. Holt must have realized she could hear and turned the volume down.
“And?” He listened for a few moments, then sighed. “Okay, I’m on the way.”
“What is it?”
“I’m sorry. I wanted to stay longer and talk to you.”
“Don’t apologize. You know it’s okay and that I understand. Be careful.”
He paused. “Can I call you when I get a free moment? I’d love to take you to dinner—even if it’s a drive-thru.”
Penny’s stomach did that weird somersault thing it had a tendency to do when he looked at her like he was doing now. At least she wasn’t drinking anything to choke on at the moment. “Sure, that would be nice.”
He nodded. “Thanks for the coffee. Sorry to run.”
“Go.”
He grabbed the cup and hurried from the café.
Penny’s heart thudded and her smile spread. “Yes,” she whispered. Then frowned. They’d thrown around the words “boyfriend” and “girlfriend” but hadn’t come back to talk about that. They were both skittish, and Penny knew finding out about her mother had thrown him for a loop. But he was trying, and she was . . . what? What was she doing? Having a relationship with Holt Satterfield would be like . . . what?
Like . . .
She couldn’t come up with an appropriate analogy, but it would be like something. Something she’d never experienced before. And while that was exciting, it was also scary as everything. She’d have to be vulnerable, let him see who she really was, and that would not come easy.
But when had she ever done anything the easy way?
She snagged her jacket and stood to slip it over her shoulders. It was only at that moment she noticed the man sitting three booths down. Frankie Olander. For a moment, she stood still while their eyes met. He raised a brow and she huffed a sigh, then grabbed her coffee and headed for the door. At least it was just one reporter and not a whole herd of them waiting to assault her with their nosy questions.
When she stepped outside the restaurant, she scanned the area, and seeing no one waiting to pounce, she hurried back to the hospital entrance and to the base.
She found Raina and Holly sitting at the table with a woman she hadn’t seen in a while. “Grace! What are you doing here?” She rushed to get a hug and then stepped back. Grace Billingsley’s dark skin, long wavy hair, and light brown eyes reminded her of the reality show actress Tayshia Adams.
“Came to see you, my friend.”
“How’d you know to find me here?”
“She called me,” Raina said, “to catch up. We talked about you.”
“Of course you did. So, are you here because of Darius Rabor?”
“I am.”
Grace was a brilliant former prison psychiatrist and current field agent on Holt’s squad. She was also the Columbia Division’s Behavioral Analysis Unit’s coordinator—and a former juvie roommate. Thankfully, none of them had ended up in the juvenile delinquent center because of felonies. That would have made a law enforcement career difficult, if not impossible.
Penny had been a habitual underage drinker and occasional runaway. After her sister’s death, she’d gone wild, the grief pushing her farther and farther over the edge. She nearly drove her parents crazy with all the negative media attention. Her mother especially. They finally had enough and allowed her to be sent to a juvenile facility.
She had never had the guts to ask them if they’d paid the judge to send her, but she suspected that was the case. Looking back, she couldn’t really blame them. But at the time? She had been livid.
“Penny? Yoohoo. Anyone home?” Grace was waving her hand in front of Penny’s face.
Penny blinked and laughed. “Sorry. I was reliving how we met.”
“One of the best days of my life.”
“Mine too. So, what can I do for you?”
“I wanted to talk to you about the man you and Holt fought with on the mountain.”
“What do you want to know?” It didn’t look like she’d be putting that incident behind her anytime soon. Maybe she shouldn’t even try yet.
“Have you remembered anything else?” Grace asked. “Any detail that you may have forgotten or considered too minor to worry about.”
Penny frowned. “I don’t think so. Why?”
“Because it’s my job.” She laughed, a throaty chuckle that didn’t hold much humor. “I’m working closely with Millicent Danvers back at BAU. She suggested I have a sit-down with you.”
“Still have your eye on that profiler position with BAU, don’t you?”
“Of course. Millicent wasn’t the profiler on this case when Rabor was arrested a year and a half ago, but she’s on it now. We’ve both read through all the previous reports, and I plan to view video footage at the prison. However, I wanted to speak with you because you had contact with him.”
“Or whoever he was.”
“So you know it wasn’t Rabor?”
“I was with Holt when Lexie called. He didn’t tell me exactly, but yeah, I know.” She glanced at Raina and Holly. “Sorry. Should I have kept that to myself?”
“No, it won’t be a secret in”—she checked her phone—“about ten minutes. We’re releasing an official announcement that Rabor is still alive and the public needs to be aware. And to call in any sightings to the hotline.”
“Good.” Penny leaned forward. “So, who was he? Who’d I kill?”
“I thought we were clear on how that man died and that it wasn’t your fault.”
Penny jerked at Holt’s voice and looked over Grace’s shoulder. “Hey.”
Grace turned. “Holt, good to see you.”
“And you.”
He walked over and took a seat at the table, then lasered Penny with a look. “Are we not clear?”
“The clarity fluctuates.”
“Well, it shouldn’t, but I won’t harp on that for now. I have a question for you.”
“Okay.”
Raina stood and motioned to Holly with a slight jerk of her head. “We’ll let you guys talk.”
The ladies left and Holt turned back to her and Grace. “I know you say you don’t remember what the man on the mountain whispered to you, but I need you to try. I think it could be important.”
Reluctantly, she let her mind return to that moment in time. “I . . . don’t know. He grabbed me. Held the gun to my head.” She lifted a hand to her temple. “I remember it touching me . . .” A shudder rippled through her.
She narrowed her eyes and Holt stayed still, waiting.
“He did say something,” she said, “and I know I heard him, but for the life of me, I can’t remember.”
Holt pursed his lips, then shrugged. “It’s okay. Keep trying to think of it and maybe it’ll come to you.”
She frowned. “If I heard it, why can’t I remember? That seems stupid.”
“No, it’s not,” Grace said. “That was an incredibly high-stress moment. In fact, you had a few high-stress moments leading up to that one. Your mind was in survival mode.”
Penny closed her eyes, remembered her panic, her terror, her desperate desire to save Holt, and the overwhelming will to live.
She also remembered the weapon pressing against her temple.
The feel of him behind her, trapping her.
Her mind scrambling for an escape.
His hot breath brushing her ear.
The words . . .
What were the words?
She opened her eyes. “I don’t know, but . . .”
“But what?”
She rubbed her temple. “He was muttering, almost like he was talking to himself, but he wasn’t . . . talking exactly, he was . . . mumbling or . . .” Penny pressed her palms to her eyes.
“Penny, stop,” Grace said. “Don’t push it. It’ll come.”
Penny stood. “If it’s important, I need to remember. And it’s like it’s right there on the tip of my tongue.” She planted her hands on her hips. “What do I need to do to remember? You keep saying don’t push it. What if I want to push it? What will help?”
Grace pursed her lips and shook her head. Then sighed. “Nothing’s a hundred percent, but . . .”
“But?” Penny asked.
“Maybe seeing the body would help.”
“No,” Holt said, recoiling from the idea. “She definitely doesn’t need to see the body.”
Penny gaped. “I don’t think that’s your call to make.”
He held up a hand. “I know. I know. But you’re already having trouble sleeping. Do you think seeing him is going to help with that?”
“I have no idea. But it probably can’t hurt. Either I don’t sleep because I keep reliving the terror, or I don’t sleep because I see him dead. What difference does it make?”
“It might actually help,” Grace said. “Seeing him in the morgue and knowing he’s not coming back . . .” She shrugged.
Penny nodded. “Fine. Let’s go.”
It was Holt’s turn to blink. “What? Now?”
“Yep. He’s in the morgue, which is downstairs. We don’t even have to get in the car.” She grabbed her phone, tucked it into her back pocket, and headed for the door.
Holt exchanged a look with Grace and they both hurried after her.
“Hold on, Penny, we’ll get you in.”
He caught up with her, letting Grace bring up the rear. Penny threw open the door and came to a stop. Holt barely managed to keep from slamming into the back of her.
“You’re still here?” Penny demanded.
Holt looked around her to see who she was talking to and spotted a man who looked vaguely familiar. Holt sized him up in about three seconds. Early thirties, Asian features, intelligent dark eyes, and a physique that said he worked out on a regular basis. Holt put him around five feet nine inches.
“I thought I made myself clear,” Penny said.
“You did. I think I did as well.”
“Penny?” Holt asked.
“Holt, meet Frankie Olander, star reporter for the Chronicle News. He’s working hard to get that big bonus his boss offered for a story on yours truly.”
“Pleased to meet you, Special Agent Satterfield.” The man held out his hand, and Holt narrowed his eyes, then shook it. Possibly squeezing a little harder than necessary.
Frankie never flinched. A smidge of respect reared its head, but Holt kept that to himself, as he didn’t think Penny would appreciate it.
Frankie’s gaze swept past Holt. “Special Agent Dr. Grace Billingsley. Nice to see you here as well, showing your support for your longtime friend. I’d love to get your input on what it was like to know Penny as a teenager while you two were in juvie together.”
The respect faded. That was weird. Like one step away from the stalker factor.
“No comment,” Grace said. “Come on, Penny.” She took one side and Holt took the other.
“Bye, Frankie,” Penny said. “Don’t come back or I’ll have to file a restraining order.”
“For what? I was in the hallway.”
She didn’t answer, just shoved her fists into her flight jacket pockets and kept walking. They took the elevator down to the basement. When Penny stepped out, a visible shiver went through her, and Holt slid an arm across her shoulders. Grace shot him a sideways glance and a raised brow. He raised his brow right back.
She shrugged. “Yes, I was in juvie with Penny.”
“So, is this some kind of reunion? You, Julianna, and Penny? You were in California, right? How did you all wind up on this side of the country?”
“Simple. We came out together.”
“Oh.” He let his arm fall away when they reached the door that would take them down the hallway to the autopsy room.
Penny looked up at him, then grabbed his hand. She gave it a squeeze, then let go and took a deep breath. Holt opened the door for her and followed her through, then held the door for Grace.
Lexie was the one working, and Holt was glad for Penny’s sake. The ME looked up from her laptop and adjusted her glasses over the bridge of her nose. “Penny?” Her gaze whipped to Holt’s and she nodded. “Hi, guys.”
“Hi,” Penny said. “I need to see the man from the mountain.”
Lexie frowned. “Why?”
“He said something to me while we were up there, and I need to remember what it was.”
“And you think seeing him is going to help that?”
“I don’t know, that’s why I’m here.”
Holt figured Penny’s patience with all of them was about to run out. Lexie must have caught on too.
“Right this way.” She walked to the steel locker that held the sheet-covered body, opened it, and slid the gurney out. “Ready?” Lexie looked over the top of her glasses at Penny.
“I guess.”
Lexie pulled the sheet back and Penny stared. Holt held out a hand, thinking he might have to offer some kind of support, but she didn’t move.
“Who is he?” she finally asked. “I need to know who he is.”
Lexie flicked a glance at Holt and he nodded. “Still waiting on DNA results to come back,” she said.
Penny pulled in a deep breath. “Okay. Thank you.”
“You remember what he said?” Grace asked.
“No, but I do remember he wasn’t talking, he was singing.”
Holt let out a humorless chuckle. “I’m sorry, what? He was singing?”
“Yes.”
“Singing what?” Grace asked.
Penny ran a hand down her face and shrugged. “I don’t know. The tune was . . . familiar. Like I’ve heard it before, but it wasn’t something I keep in my playlist.”
“Would you recognize it if you heard it again?”
“It’s just a feeling, but yeah.” She nodded. “I think I would.”
“Can you hum it?”
She hesitated like she was trying to pull the tune from her memory banks, then shook her head. “No.”
“All right,” Holt said, “you need any more time here?”
Penny shook her head and walked a few steps away while Lexie slid the dead man back into his temporary frozen quarters.
Grace and Lexie chatted, and Holt placed a hand on Penny’s shoulder to guide her away from the two. “You okay?”
“I’m . . . I don’t know what I am.” She blew out a low breath. “But in some weird way, I think it did help to see him. Thank you.”
“Want me to follow you home?”
“No, it’s—” She stopped. “Yes, I’d like that. I can make sure those windows get put in today and get the alarm system put in.”
“If you want the alarm system installed today, I know a guy.”
“Of course you do.” She nodded. “Home sounds good.”
CHAPTER
TWELVE
Home felt good. In spite of the break-in. Holt stayed with her, talking on the phone in her den while she made arrangements to have someone come put the windows in. She could do it herself with a little help, but that would take time and she wanted it done now. Or at least as quickly as possible.
Holt stepped into the kitchen. “Benny said he could come install the alarm system around noon. You okay with that?”
“Sure. Thank you. The window installer is on the way. I told him what happened, and he was very sympathetic, and since it’s only two windows, he said it wouldn’t take him long.” She frowned. “Don’t you need to be out tracking down Rabor?”
“I want to be, but I don’t have much to go on right now. The task force is busy. Someone’s at the prison going through all of the footage to see if there’s anything that might give us a hint of where he might go to hole up while he heals. We’ve got agents talking to relatives and friends and everyone else we can find.”
“Sounds typical in this kind of investigation.”
“It is. The thing that’s going to take it to the next level is putting a name to the dead man.”
She nodded. She really wanted to know that too. “Will you tell me who he is when you find out?”
“Yeah, it won’t be a secret. It’ll be all over the news.”
Life Flight Page 11
