by Karen Rose
Her smile was sad. “I see,” was all she said.
“I’m going to take you back to my office. I’ve got a press conference at two-thirty, but after that I can break away and drive you back to the bungalow.”
“I hate for you to have to do that.”
“Be quiet, Alex.” He said it mildly to take away some of the sting of his words. “I’m not sure how you connect to all this, but every instinct I have is screaming that you are.”
She flinched, a minute motion. “What?” he asked. “Alex?”
She sighed. “When I dream, I hear screams. When I get tense, like back there, I also hear them.” She glanced at him warily. “Now you think I’m crazy.”
“Hush. You’re not crazy. Besides, at least some of the screams back there were real. I heard them, too, right before I lost your call.”
“Thanks.” Her smile was self-deprecating. “I really needed to hear that.”
Last night she’d been dreaming, she’d said. Then you were there. “When you hear the screams, what do you do?”
She lifted a shoulder, looking away. “I concentrate and make them stop.”
He remembered what she’d said to the girl in the shelter. “Push them in the closet?”
“Yes.” It was an embarrassed admission.
He cupped her face and brushed his thumb across her flushed cheek. “It must take a lot of mental energy to do that. I’d be exhausted.”
“You have no idea.” Her voice grew cool. “We should go now. You have a job and I have too much to do to be sitting here feeling sorry for myself.” She lifted her chin, away from his hand. “Please.”
She was terrified. She had a right to be. Someone had tried to kill her. The knowledge left his gut tied in a knot. She wasn’t driving around on her own, not while he had breath. But he’d argue the point later. Now she looked fragile, even as her chin jutted out like that of a prizefighter looking for a fight.
Saying no more, Daniel put his car back into gear and drove.
Chapter Nine
Atlanta, Tuesday, January 30, 2:15 p.m.
He’d locked her satchel in the trunk of his car and taken her keys. Alex shifted in the chair in the GBI waiting room, trying not to be annoyed at Daniel’s heavy-handed attempts to protect her, but conscious of the minutes ticking away.
Meredith was leaving in a few hours and Alex still hadn’t visited Hope’s preschool or Bailey’s friend Sissy. Tomorrow she’d have no opportunity to search for Bailey. Not that she was getting anywhere. All she’d found was that Atlanta people loved Bailey. Dutton people hated her. And the last person to see her was Hope, who wasn’t talking.
The last place Bailey was seen was the old house. You have to go in there, Alex, she told herself. No matter what it takes. You’ve been foolish not to go before now.
Still, someone had tried to kill her today and Daniel’s warnings not to go to the Crighton place alone would not go unheeded. I’m a neurotic coward, but I’m not stupid.
But she was late. “Excuse me,” she called to Leigh, their office clerk. “Do you know how much longer Agent Vartanian will be? He has the keys to my rental car.”
“I don’t know. He had three people waiting for him when he got back and we have a press conference scheduled in a few minutes. Can I get you some water or something?”
Alex’s stomach growled at the woman’s mention of food and she remembered she’d had nothing since that morning. “Actually I’m starving. Is there a cafeteria nearby?”
“It’s closed now. Lunch was over an hour ago. But I have some cheese crackers and a few bottles of water in my desk. It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.”
Alex nearly said no, but the growling in her stomach overruled her. “Thank you.”
Leigh slid the water and crackers over the counter with a smile. “Now, don’t you go telling people we only gave you bread and water, okay?”
Alex smiled back. “I promise.”
The door behind her opened and a tall, lean man wearing wire-frame glasses headed straight back to the offices without stopping. “Is Daniel back?”
“Yeah, but . . . Ed, wait.” Leigh stopped him. “He’s in with Chase and”—she looked over her shoulder at Alex—“a few other people. You should wait.”
“This can’t wait. I . . .” His words trailed. “You’re Alex Fallon,” he said, his voice odd.
Feeling like the newest addition to the zoo, Alex nodded. “Yes.”
“I’m Ed Randall. I’m with the Crime Scene Unit.” He reached over the counter to shake her hand, then noticed her bandages. “Looks like you had an accident.”
“Miss Fallon was nearly hit by a car this afternoon,” Leigh said softly, and Ed Randall’s expression abruptly changed.
“My God.” His jaw tightened. “But you’re uninjured, besides your hands, that is?”
“Yes. A fast-thinking stranger pushed me out of the way.”
Leigh twisted the top off the water bottle for Alex. “Ed, they have to be done soon. They have a press conference in less than twenty minutes. I’d really wait if I were you.”
Alex took her crackers and water back to her chair and left the two to whisper. She hadn’t recognized the man who was waiting when they came in. He was pacing when they arrived and had nearly launched himself at Daniel, demanding “answers.”
A door opened behind the counter and Daniel and his boss emerged with the pacing man and two others. The pacing man was ashen. His news had not been good then.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Daniel said. “We’ll call you the moment we know anything new. I know it doesn’t help right now, but we’re doing everything we can.”
“Thank you. When can I have . . .” His voice broke and for the first time that day tears welled in Alex’s eyes. She pursed her lips and fought the sudden wave of compassion.
“We’ll have her body released as soon as we possibly can,” Daniel’s boss said gently. “We’re so sorry for your loss, Mr. Barnes.”
Mr. Barnes was walking to the door when he stopped cold and stared at her and what little color remained in his face drained away. “You.” It was barely a murmur.
Alex looked at Daniel from the corner of her eye. She had no idea of what to say.
“Mr. Barnes.” Daniel stepped forward. “What is it?”
“Her picture was on the news yesterday. My Claudia saw it.”
Alicia. The news had quickly picked up on the Arcadia story, and its link to Alicia’s murder. This man had seen Alicia’s picture, not mine. Alex stood on wobbly knees and opened her mouth but still had no idea of what to say.
“What did your wife say about the picture?” Daniel’s boss asked.
“She knew the girl . . . remembered the case. Claudia was just a little girl, but she remembered. It upset her. She almost stayed home last night, but she had to go to that damn party. I should have gone with her. I should have been with her.” Barnes glared at Alex, horrified disbelief in his eyes. “You’re supposed to be dead. Who are you?”
Alex lifted her chin. “The picture you saw was my sister, Alicia.” Her lips were trembling and she firmed them. “Your wife knew my sister? Was she from Dutton?”
The man nodded. “Yes. Her maiden name was Silva.”
Alex brought a bandaged hand to her mouth. “Claudia Silva?”
“You knew her, Alex?” Daniel asked gently.
“I babysat Claudia and her little sister.” She closed her eyes and focused on quieting the screams that tore through her mind. I’m losing my mind. She opened her eyes and pushed past the noise, focusing on the man and his grief. “I’m so very sorry.”
Roughly he nodded, then turned to Daniel’s boss. “I want every man you can spare on this case, Wharton. I know people . . .”
“Rafe,” one of the other men murmured. “Let them do their jobs.” They ushered Barnes from the room, leaving a hush behind them.
Alex met Daniel’s eyes. “Two women from Dutton are dead and Bailey’s still missing,” sh
e said harshly. “What the hell is happening here?”
“I don’t know,” Daniel said, his face stern. “But we’re sure as hell going to find out.”
Ed Randall cleared his throat. “Daniel, we need to talk. Now.”
Daniel nodded. “Okay. Just a little longer, Alex, and I can take you home.”
The men went to the back offices, leaving Alex and Leigh alone in the front. Alex lowered herself into her chair. “I feel . . . responsible somehow.”
“Involved,” Leigh corrected. “Not responsible. You’re a victim in this, too, Miss Fallon. You may want to consider requesting protection.”
Alex thought of Hope. “I will.” Then she thought of Meredith. She hadn’t called her cousin in some time. When she found out about the near miss, Alex imagined some level of hell would break loose. “I need to make a call. I’ll be out in the hall.”
Ed leaned against the corner of Daniel’s desk. “We may have tracked the blankets.”
Daniel rummaged in his desk drawer for a bottle of aspirin. “And?”
“They were bought at a sporting goods store three blocks away.”
“Right under our noses,” Daniel said. “Intentional?”
“We can’t discount it,” Chase said. “Did they have security tapes?”
Ed nodded. “Yep. Purchase was made by a kid, maybe eighteen. White, five-ten, one-fifty. Looked right up into the camera, so we got his face. Kid paid cash. The store clerk remembered, because it was a lot of cash.”
Daniel dry-swallowed two aspirin. “Of course he paid cash.” He tossed the bottle back into the drawer. “I’m afraid to ask. How many blankets did he buy, Ed?”
“Ten.”
Chase hissed. “Ten?”
Bile rose in Daniel’s throat. “We need to get his photo posted to all units.”
“Already done,” Ed said. “But the kid didn’t look like he had anything to hide. I bet he’s a stooge, probably hired to buy the blankets. It’s not illegal to buy blankets.”
“He can still tell us who hired him,” Chase said tightly. “Is that it? We’ve got a press conference in five.”
“No. There’s more.” Ed put the small plastic bag containing the single hair on Daniel’s desk. “This is the hair you got off of this morning’s vic.”
“Claudia Barnes,” Chase said.
“It’s not hers.”
“We knew that,” Daniel said. “Claudia was a blonde. This hair is brown.”
“I ran it through the colorimeter.” From a paper bag, Ed took a fake ponytail, looped in a teardrop shape. “I pulled the closest match from our hair samples.”
Daniel picked up the sample with a frown, immediately seeing the significance. It was caramel colored. Just like Alex’s. “Fuck.”
“I swear to God, Danny, I took one look at Alex Fallon out there and did a double-take. He’s left a hair, if not her color, then damn close.”
Daniel passed the sample to Chase, keeping his fury tamped down. “This guy’s playing with us.” And with Alex.
Chase held the single hair up to the light. “Is it possible this is a fake hair, like from your ponytail sample? I’ve seen them in the drugstore where they sell hair color.”
“No, it’s definitely real and definitely human,” Ed said. “And it’s old.”
Dread settled in the pit of Daniel’s stomach. “How old?”
“One of guys in the lab is a hair expert. He thinks at least five years. Maybe ten.”
“Or thirteen?” Daniel asked and Ed shrugged.
“Maybe. I can test it, but once I run the test there won’t be a lot left for DNA.”
“Run the DNA first,” Chase said grimly. “Daniel, get Alex to give us some hair. I want them tested side by side.”
“I’ll have to tell her why.”
“No, you don’t. Tell her anything you want, just don’t tell her why. Not yet at least.”
Daniel frowned. “She’s not a suspect, Chase.”
“No, but she’s involved. If it’s a match, then tell her. If not, why upset her?”
That at least made sense. “All right.”
Chase straightened the knot of his tie. “Now, it’s showtime. I’ll field the questions.”
“Wait a minute,” Daniel protested. “I’m lead. I can field my own damn questions.”
“I know, but remember what I said about hearing ‘Vartanian’ and ‘Dutton’ in the same sentence. The brass wants me to face the press. Nothing else changes.”
“Fine,” Daniel muttered, then stopped when he got to Leigh’s desk. Alex was gone. “Where is she?” He shoved his hand into his pocket. He still had her car keys. She could have taken a cab, but surely she wasn’t that stupid. If—
“Relax, Danny,” Leigh said. “She’s in the hall making a phone call.”
Daniel felt a spike of tension in his neck ebb. “Thanks.”
“Daniel.” Chase was holding open the door. “Let’s go.”
Daniel could see her at the end of the hall as he, Chase, and Ed walked the other way. She was on her cell phone, bowed over, hugging herself with one arm. Her shoulders were shaking and with a jolt he realized she was crying.
He stopped, the pressure on his chest making it hard to breathe. After all she’d been through in the last two days, he hadn’t seen her cry. Not once.
“Daniel.” Chase grasped his shoulder and yanked. “We’re late. Let’s go. I need you focused. You can talk to her later. She can’t go anywhere, you took her keys.”
Ed shot him a look of surprised sympathy and Daniel realized everything he felt must be showing on his face. He carefully drew a blank expression and left Alex crying in the hall.
He’d do his job. He’d track down this killer who taunted them with keys and clues. He had to make sure no other women were found in ditches. He had to keep Alex safe.
Atlanta, Tuesday, January 30, 2:30 p.m.
“I’m so sorry, Miss Fallon,” Nancy Barker said. The county social worker sounded almost as devastated as Alex felt. “I don’t know what else to tell you at this point.”
“Are you sure?” Alex insisted. She wiped her face with the back of her bandaged hand. She hated the weakness of tears. They never helped. But she’d gone for days expecting to hear Bailey was dead. She hadn’t expected . . . this. Not this. And on top of the events of the day . . . Alex supposed everyone had a limit and she’d reached hers.
“I know this is hard, but Bailey was an addict. Heroin addicts have a much higher recidivism rate. You’re a nurse. I’m not telling you anything you don’t know.”
“I know. I also know everyone in Bailey’s recent life has sworn she’d gone clean.”
“Maybe she was under stress and just couldn’t take it anymore. Addicts go back to the life for all kinds of reasons. All I know is that she called the office and left a message for, quote, ‘whoever has my baby, Hope Crighton.’ The social worker who took the call knew Hope was one of my cases and forwarded the message to me.”
“So nobody physically talked to Bailey.” The initial shock was wearing off and Alex’s mind was working again. “When did she leave the message?”
“Today, about an hour ago.”
An hour ago. Alex looked at her bandaged hands. No coincidences, Daniel had said. “Can you forward that message to my phone?”
“I don’t know. We have an internal phone system. Why?”
Alex heard the mild disapproval in the social worker’s voice. “Miss Barker, I’m not trying to be difficult or in denial, but two women from Bailey’s hometown are dead. You can’t blame me for being suspicious of a phone call allegedly from Bailey that says she’s really run off and left Hope to the system.”
“Two women?” Barker said. “I read about the first woman, the congressman’s daughter being from Dutton, but now there’s another?”
Alex bit her lip. “That’s not public knowledge yet.” Although Daniel was off at his press conference by now, so it would be soon. “You can understand my apprehension.”<
br />
“I suppose so,” Barker said thoughtfully. “Well, I don’t know how to forward a message outside our phone system, but I can have it recorded it for you.”
“That would be wonderful. Can I pick up the tape today?”
“It might be tomorrow. Bureaucracy, you know.”
She sounded doubtful, so Alex pushed harder. “Miss Barker, right before that call came into your office, someone tried to run me down in the street. If someone hadn’t pushed me out of the way, I could be dead right now.”
“Oh my God.”
“Now you understand.”
“Oh my God,” Barker repeated, stunned. “Hope could be in danger.”
The thought of anyone touching Hope left Alex cold. Still she kept her voice confident. “I’m requesting police protection. If I have to, I’ll move Hope out of town.”
“Who’s with Hope right now?”
“My cousin.” Meredith had been exceedingly upset by the news of the near miss that afternoon. Alex had been on the phone with Meredith when the call from Barker had beeped through. “She’s a child psychologist from Cincinnati. Hope’s in good hands.”
“Fine, then. I’ll call you once I’ve recorded this message.”
Alex called Meredith back, bracing herself for a tirade. She was not disappointed.
“You’re coming home with me,” Meredith stated, bypassing any greeting.
“No, I’m not. Mer, that call was from the social worker. Somebody claiming to be Bailey called saying she’d just come off a high and wanted to be sure someone had Hope, that they should keep her, that she was never coming back.”
“Maybe it was Bailey, Alex.”
“The call was placed an hour ago, right about when that car tried to mow me down. Somebody wants me to stop looking for Bailey.”
Meredith was quiet for a few beats, then she sighed. “Did you tell Vartanian?”
“Not yet. He’s at a press conference. I’m going to request protection, but I don’t know if they’ll give it to me. Maybe you should take Hope to Ohio with you.”
“No, not yet. We may have something. I was afraid to turn the TV on today because they keep talking about the murders. So I plugged the organ in and played ‘Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.’ One-fingered, nothing fancy. Just to keep myself sane.”
