“Kiernan,” Matt said. His nerves thrummed with foreboding.
“He says he won’t hurt me, but I don’t believe him,” Kiernan went on in the whispered voice. “His voice sounds funny. All…” Kiernan made a gesture with his hand, and it was shaking. “I don’t know, but it doesn’t sound right. There are bad men. My mommy told me, and this is a bad man. I know it.” He paused, his nose wrinkling. “He’s shoving something in my mouth. He says it’s just a cookie, but it tastes so nasty. When I try to spit it out, he puts his hand over my mouth again.” There was a hiccupping little sob. “I don’t like this. I want my mommy.”
Kiernan jerked his head, and it looked as if he was being restrained. “I don’t want it!” he said firmly. His shoulders began to tremble. “He tells me if I eat it, he’ll let me go, but he’s lying. I try to stop him, but he shoves it in my mouth…” Kiernan’s voice stalled on a strangled gagging sound, and he grimaced. Another tear slipped down his cheek, and Matt’s uneasiness intensified. “He keeps holding my mouth shut. I swallowed, I want to tell him, but he won’t let me go…”
There was a long moment of silence. Perhaps it was over. Abby had been drugged. Maybe that was as far as her sentience had gone. But a sound came from low in Kiernan’s throat, and Matt’s body tightened. It sounded the way he imagined a wounded dove might sound—lost, desolate, hitching on broken little hiccups.
This needed to stop. Matt was more convinced than he’d ever been of anything.
“Kiernan, enough.”
He breathed a sigh of relief when Kiernan rose from the floor, but Matt knew he’d misread the situation immediately when he turned. His eyes were unnaturally wide, the pupils blown. He staggered, his arms stiff as if someone was holding him against his will.
“I don’t feel good,” he whimpered. “I feel like I’m going to throw up.”
“Kiernan,” Matt said again, his voice louder. “Enough, now.”
“He tied my hands, put tape around my head,” Kiernan went on, clearly not hearing Matt at all. “It’s pulling my hair and it hurts. I’m scared. I’m so scared. Mommy…” Fresh tears spilled down his cheeks. “Mommy, please…”
Matt didn’t think he could bear any more. It was like watching the child go to her death. He reached out to grab Kiernan’s arm, but suddenly there was clarity in his eyes, and a raw intensity. “Don’t touch her!” Kiernan hissed, his voice a low growl. “You won’t get this chance again.”
Matt jerked his hand back. As quickly as it had come, the lucidity in the blue eyes was gone, and now in its place was a half-lidded, drugged expression. The transition was terrifying.
Kiernan stumbled out of the room and down the hall, away from the main staircase. His arms remained stiffly at his back, his steps sluggish. Matt followed closely, every instinct he had screaming that he needed to stop it, stop him, but not sure how. When Kiernan lurched around a bend in the hallway and stopped at a shadowy door, Matt bit back a startled gasp.
The police knew the killer had taken the child down the servant’s stairs. The investigating officers had found threads from her gown caught in the splintered edges of the steps, but it was just one of a number of details they hadn’t released to the media. How could Kiernan know, unless…
The narrow door flew open untouched, and Matt jerked back, gasping. He stared at it, eyes wide, heart pounding.
Kiernan staggered down the stairs, slipping twice, somehow miraculously not falling. Matt followed him closely. When they got to the kitchen door, it flew open too, stopping just short of bouncing off the wall, where it seemed to vibrate in an unseen grip. Now Kiernan did fall, going down hard on one knee on the tiled kitchen floor. He cried out, his voice still high and childlike.
“Kiernan?” A voice called from the living room.
Matt felt a rush of relief. “Aidan, could you come here for a moment, please?” he called, his eyes fixed on Kiernan’s half-open eyes, and the fearful shallowness of his breathing. Two sets of footsteps approached, one in heels. “Mrs. Reynolds, please go back to the living room,” he added firmly. There was no way in hell he wanted Abby’s mother to see this. “Please. I’m going to have to insist. I’ll explain later.”
One approach hesitated and then stopped, and Aidan Fitzpatrick entered the kitchen alone. She looked at her brother as he swayed unsteadily on his feet. Her eyes widened.
“What did he do?” she asked hurriedly, her voice hushed, moving close but not touching him.
“He said she wanted to show him, not tell him,” Matt answered quickly. She hissed between her teeth. “What does it mean?”
“He’s in her head.” She came to his side cautiously. “He’s in her head, and he’s too damned tired for this. He knows better.”
“He said it just took more energy,” Matt said, feeling as if he’d missed something important.
“It does.” She eyed her brother with concern. “Among other things.”
Abruptly, Kiernan lurched forward, and the door to the basement swung open the way the other two had. Matt wasn’t reassured when Aidan squeaked in alarm.
“Oh, my God!” she muttered, staring at the quivering door.
“What do we do?” Matt asked as Kiernan started down the narrow staircase.
“Follow him.” She rushed after him with Matt right behind her.
Aidan cried out when Kiernan fell down the last three stairs into the gloomy basement. Matt reached out to grab him, but she intercepted his arm, her fingers like talons.
“Don’t touch him!” she ordered. “Pulling him out can be as dangerous as wherever he is.”
Matt growled, raking his hands through his hair. His helplessness was infuriating. Kiernan took another few steps before he fell to his knees on the concrete floor. Whimpering, he lay down and curled on his side in a fetal position. His breathing was muted, as if it were being blocked by something.
The tape, Matt realized, feeling colder than he could ever remember being. The duct tape around her head and covering her mouth.
Aidan went to his side, close but not touching him. “Kiernan, it’s time to come back, now. Come back. Don’t go any further. You’ve seen what you need to.”
It made no difference. The terrified, tortured breathing went on, the drugged eyes half-lidded.
“Kiernan, come on,” his sister almost begged. “It’s enough.”
A terrible thought occurred to Matt, and he took a step closer. “She was drugged,” he said, his voice tight.
Aidan’s eyes found his, widened in her pretty face. For the first time, she looked genuinely frightened.
“She was drugged,” he repeated.
“Shit.” Her eyes went back to her brother’s waxy face.
“What?” Matt closed the space between them.
She looked up at him, twisting her fingers together as if to keep herself from touching Kiernan. “How compromised was she?”
“She wouldn’t have been able to fight it at all.”
“Shit,” Aidan repeated, her hands reaching out, hovering over her brother’s twitching form without touching him.
“What?” Matt insisted.
Aidan looked up at him, her eyes desperate. Anything she might have been going to say was cut off when Kiernan lurched violently to his back, his body arching, his spine stiffening. His eyes went wide in his colorless face, and the most horrifying sound Matt had ever heard slipped from between his tight lips. He sounded as if he were gagging. Or being choked.
“Kier,” Aidan cried, tears filling her eyes. “Kier, stop now. Come back. Come back, damn it. Kier!”
The sound of her voice was almost as terrifying as the sounds coming from Kiernan’s throat. Tears slid back into his hair. His legs thrashed and then stopped, as though someone had caught and held them down. There had been bruises on Abby’s shins, as if someone heavy ha
d sat on them. Another detail the police hadn’t reported to the media…
Matt’s pulse started to race in horror as Kiernan’s movements grew more sluggish, and his eyes rolled back in his head. The electrical charge in the air deepened.
“Oh, God,” Aidan cried, her hand still hovering over his chest. “Kier, stop! Stop!”
His slender frame shuddered, the horrible gurgling sounds continuing, and suddenly Matt couldn’t stand it. He went to his knees and shoved Aidan out of the way, his hands curling around Kiernan’s upper arms.
“Don’t touch him!” Aidan wailed, but Matt was done listening. He lifted Kiernan’s shoulders from the floor and shook him, hard.
“Kiernan, stop!” he ordered, but nothing happened. Kiernan’s eyes were terrifyingly blank between his black lashes, and his body remained stiff under Matt’s hands. Matt drew in a harsh breath, staring into the whitened face. He wouldn’t give up. He couldn’t. It was like watching Abby Reynolds die, and he couldn’t stand it. Then it hit him.
Abby.
“Abby, let him go,” he said harshly. “Pull back. You’re hurting him, Abby. Let him go!”
Kiernan jerked and inhaled harshly, eyes snapping to Matt’s face in sudden comprehension. It was so silent all Matt could hear was the pounding of his own heart.
Slowly, the corner of Kiernan’s full lips pulled up in a shadow of a smile. When he spoke, his low voice sounded raw.
“Nice save, Matthew,” he muttered.
His eyes closed as he went completely limp.
Chapter Six
Matt caught Kiernan Fitzpatrick’s limp body in his arms, just saving his head from connecting with the concrete floor. Staring down at the suddenly lifeless face, Matt was frightened. Kiernan’s lips were slightly parted, so pale they looked bloodless. His cheekbones were stark and sharp, and there were bluish bruises under his eyes. Matt curled his arm around his shoulders and was reaching for his neck to check for a pulse when Aidan’s voice finally registered.
“Detective, listen to me!”
He jerked his head up. She’d been talking but he hadn’t heard her above the roaring in his own ears.
“We need to get him out of here,” she said. “Can you carry him? I don’t want him coming to in this basement, just in case he’s still too open.” He stared at her in incomprehension, and she yanked on his sleeve. “It isn’t safe for him. Something opportunistic could get through. He can’t protect himself. Help me get him out of here,” she ordered, her fear finally registering in his mind. “Please!”
His arms underneath Kiernan, Matt surged to his feet and hurried up the shadowy staircase. He burst through the kitchen door only to find Karen Reynolds waiting, her eyes wide and her hands clenched in front of her.
“Oh, God,” she cried. “What’s happened?”
Matt pushed past her, barely registering the reassuring sounds Aidan was making behind him. He got as far as the massive front door and then had to wait until Aidan caught up.
“I promise, we’ll be in touch, Karen,” she said. “He’s just tired from the end of a long tour, and the session was a bit overwhelming. He fainted, that’s all. He’ll be fine, I promise.”
“I’ll be waiting to hear…”
Aidan opened the large door, and whatever else Karen Reynolds might have said was lost in the crunch of his feet on snow as Matt walked quickly to the Bronco. Fluffy flakes fell onto Kiernan’s upturned face, caught in his hair and his lashes. Matt lifted him closer to his chest and cradled him, and felt the sigh that moved through Kiernan’s body. The dark head rolled, and his face pressed against Matt’s neck. He could feel the warm rush of breath against his throat and he swallowed, a wave of protectiveness so fierce it was almost debilitating washing over him. He tightened his arms around Kiernan and glanced back impatiently.
Aidan ran up behind him, throwing open the door to the back seat. She scooted in and held out her arms. Matt laid her brother carefully on the seat, his dark head in her lap. Cautious not to crush his legs, he slammed the door and climbed in behind the wheel.
Once the gates opened and he was past the reporters, Matt made a quick left and sped off down the dark street. Snowflakes dipped and swayed, illuminated in the twin beams of the Bronco’s headlights.
“We can’t go back to the hotel.” Aidan’s voice sounded loud in the quiet car.
Matt tensed before he glanced into the rearview mirror. “What do you mean?”
Her eyes were wide and frantic. “You can’t carry him through the lobby. It would take just one phone call for him to be swamped by the local media.”
Matt paused briefly at the corner before he turned to the right, stepping firmly on the gas. “I don’t live far,” he said as he navigated the snowy streets. “We can take him there, if that’s all right with you?”
“That’s fine.”
He caught the broken expression on her face as she stared down at her brother. The look in her eyes made Matt’s breath hitch. “He’ll be okay, won’t he?”
“He always has been before. But…I’ve never seen him under quite this far, either.”
Matt’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. They didn’t speak again for the rest of the drive.
Matt carried Kiernan through the back door of his house and straight to his bedroom, laying him gently on the bed. He got a comforter from the closet and handed it over. Aidan carefully removed Kiernan’s shoes, covered him and tenderly brushed the damp hair from his forehead before sitting next to Kiernan’s hip. Catching his limp hand between hers, she cradled it near her chest, rubbing it between her palms as if to warm it.
“What can I do?” Matt asked, his voice raw.
“I wish I could tell you.”
Matt looked down at his face and felt an unpleasant clutching sensation in his chest. Kiernan was so pale, so still. All the animation that made him seem somehow larger than life was gone, and in its place was a wan, colorless shadow. Rarely had anything seemed more wrong.
* * *
Matt stared out the front window. In the few hours they’d been home, the snowfall had grown heavier, limiting visibility, and was slowly piling up in drifts. Cars were creeping cautiously down the street, headlights cutting through the thick spill of white flakes. Still feeling edgy, he sighed and wondered how long he should wait before he forced Aidan to call for medical help. Turning away from the window, he stilled when he heard the sound of his bedroom door opening.
Aidan appeared first. She sent Matt a tentative smile before she turned back, her hands extended.
“I can manage by myself, thanks,” a deep voice said in exasperation.
Air rushed into Matt’s lungs fully for the first time since they’d walked in the door.
“I’d feel surer of that if you’d stop staggering like a drunk,” Aidan replied.
“Oh, shut up,” Kiernan muttered. “It’s not that bad.”
Aidan took two steps back, still hovering, and then Kiernan was in the doorway, his black hair tousled around a face that was still very pale. He put his hand on the doorframe to steady himself, and his instability was clear in the hard grip he had on the molding. He looked up, his eyes finding Matt’s.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey, yourself,” Matt said. “You all right?”
Kiernan took another cautious step forward. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He released the doorframe and took another step, immediately swaying on his feet. Matt took a quick step forward but Aidan was already there, her hand under his arm.
“Yeah, you’re just peachy. I told you to wait a few minutes.”
“Bitch, bitch, bitch,” Kiernan said, but allowed her to steady him.
“Can I get you anything?” Matt asked as Aidan led him to the sofa. “Coffee? Something to drink?”
Kiernan shook his dark hea
d, but Aidan found his eyes. “He’s going to need food,” she said, her voice even.
Kiernan shot her an arch look as he settled on the sofa. “Yes, because we haven’t imposed on his hospitality enough already.”
“Coming here was his idea,” she said firmly. “And you need to eat, Kiernan. You know how hard things like that are on your body. We need to get some calories into you.”
“I’ve got ice cream.”
Both dark heads turned toward him, twin blue eyes suddenly making him self-conscious. He was pretty sure he blushed under the steady regard, and shoved his hands into his pockets.
“That would be perfect,” Aidan finally said with a slight smile. Matt nodded and walked quickly into his kitchen, slapping on the lights and going straight to a cupboard next to the sink.
He was reaching into his refrigerator when Aidan appeared in the doorway. She looked at the distinctive green and brown carton, her lips twitching into an amused smirk.
“You just happen to have Dreyer’s Thin Mint ice cream in your freezer?”
“I needed some stuff from the store this morning, and it sounded good.”
He knew it was lame, even though it was the truth. He’d been pushing his shopping cart down the frozen aisle after leaving the precinct, the desperation of his empty freezer forcing the shopping expedition, and the carton of ice cream caught his eye. He’d remembered the obvious joy with which Kiernan had eaten some, and he’d thought…he wasn’t sure what he thought. He’d bought it on impulse, when he was rarely, if ever, impulsive, and wondered if he’d lost his mind as he’d shoved it in his freezer.
“Would you like some?” he asked Aidan, embarrassment preventing him from glancing over.
“No, thanks. I’m fine.”
He opened the carton and spooned a healthy serving of the thick chocolate ice cream into the bowl. Adding a spoon, he handed it to her and she took it with a small, knowing smile. After she left the room, Matt closed his eyes for a moment in what he could only identify as mortification. Clearly, the sister thought something was going on. He’d gotten that vibe from her almost from the moment he’d met her.
A Reason to Believe Page 8
