Girl Left Behind (Dana Gray Book 1)

by C. J. Cross

  Cramer was wrong.

  There was no way Dana was involved in the killings. Jake would bet his life on it. He’d spent too many hours in interrogation rooms with terrorists he wasn’t allowed to name to have the wool pulled over his eyes by a librarian. There was no doubt in his mind that Dana was innocent. What he’d just witnessed in that hotel room was proof. Her reaction to being thrown into her parents’ old crime scene had been genuine.

  All the signs were there. Jake had watched Dana’s pulse points, tracked the way her pupils had dilated, measured her labored breaths. She exhibited all the signs of a person in shock. A person grieving, which was exactly what he’d left her to do. He owed her that.

  Thoughts of Ramirez drifted into his mind. He always thought of him when it was raining like this. Like it had that day … Except in Ghazni it had been blood that fell from the sky.

  “Jake?” The sound of Dana’s voice startled him back to the present.

  He let go of the railing and stood upright. “Got everything you needed?”

  “Not yet, but that’ll have to do for now.”

  He gave her a nod, understanding what she meant more than she knew. “I’m sorry,” he offered. “I wish there’d been another way, but I had to know if we were on the same team.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “The same team?” Understanding washed over her, instantly replaced by anger. “You think I had something to do with these murders?”

  “Not here,” Jake warned. “Come on.”

  “No.” Dana stood her ground. “After what you just put me through, you owe me some answers. Now explain.”

  Jake released his frustration with a deep sigh. “This wasn’t my idea.”

  “Then whose was it?”

  “Cramer’s.”

  “Why?”

  “You have to admit it’s suspicious. You’ve been one step ahead of us the whole time with the evidence and leads, and then when we found out your parents were killed in the exact same way …”

  “I’m confused. I thought you hired me for my expertise. Am I not supposed to tell you when I know the most likely poison or when I’ve identified a possible suspect?”

  “Of course you are. But you should’ve told me about your parents.”

  “And have you throw me off the case for personal interest? Or worse, look at me like you are right now. I don’t need your pity, Agent Shepard.”

  Jake cursed under his breath as Dana stormed past him and down the stairs. He caught up to her in the rain. He tapped the key fob and unlocked the doors to the SUV so they could escape the downpour, but Dana didn’t get in. Instead, she turned to face him, the rain streaming down her face like tears. Her chest heaved with emotion as she raised her voice to be heard over the storm. “You came to me. You’re the one who brought this nightmare back to life for me. Don’t take me off the case. My parents deserve justice. I deserve justice.”

  “Justice isn’t guaranteed, Dana. And it won’t take away the pain.”

  “I know that. But I have to try. I have to know why they were taken from me. They were victims, Jake. I’ve never been this close to getting the answers I’ve spent my life searching for. I can’t stop now. I need to see this through.”

  The rain might’ve been masking her tears, but there was no hiding the emotion in her voice. Jake recognized it; that need to make things right. He felt it every day as he tried to square the debt Ramirez paid. How could he deny her a chance at finding truth and absolution, when those were the things that had made him take this job in the first place?

  His fingers ached to reach out to her, to smooth back the wet hair lashing her pale cheeks and trace her trembling lips. He wanted to show her he understood, but the walls that took him years to build couldn’t be broken so easily. The best he could do was reach past her to open the passenger side door. “If we do this, we do it together. That means no more secrets.”

  Dana blinked at him, her lashes tangled and wet. “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything.”

  Her throat bobbed as she swallowed thickly. “That’s fair.”

  “Let’s get to the hotel and dry off. Then you can start at the beginning.”

  She nodded and climbed into the SUV. Jake closed the door behind her and walked around to the driver’s side. Inside, the silence was stifling, even with the sound of rain pelting the vehicle. He could feel Dana’s dark eyes searching him.

  Jake started the engine and glanced over at her before putting it in drive. “Don’t make me regret this.”

  Her hand reached out and squeezed his. “You won’t. I promise.”

  Jake’s pulse quickened at her touch. He quickly broke contact and pulled out of the parking lot. Driving occupied his mind, but his thoughts kept wandering back to Dana. Though he believed her, that familiar dread began to coil in Jake’s gut. Dana might be getting closer to the answers she needed, but Jake felt he too was getting closer to something—something he wanted to avoid.

  34

  Dana was towel-drying her hair when she heard a knock at her hotel room door. A quick glance through the peephole showed a freshly showered Agent Shepard. She opened the door and his clean scent followed him in. The appealing fragrance of his cologne mingled with something else. That’s when she noticed the takeout bag in his hand.

  “I ordered some dinner. Hope you don’t mind.”

  “No. I’m starving.”

  He set the white plastic bag on the large desk and went about unpacking it. The sweet aroma of jasmine rice and curry filled the room. Dana eagerly took the container Shepard offered. Her lips twitched into a grin when she opened it. Red curry with vegetables. He’d remembered she was a vegetarian.

  She sat cross-legged on the bed in her oversized Georgetown sweatshirt and leggings, while Shepard turned the desk chair around to face her. They might look like two friends enjoying a casual meal, but Dana hadn’t missed the appearance of Shepard’s notebook. She owed him answers.

  Letting herself enjoy a few bites of her meal before she began, Dana contemplated what to tell the hardened FBI agent who sat across from her. She intended to tell him everything, just as she’d promised, but she didn’t know where to start. Her parents’ murder had become a part of her. It’d been her sole focus for so long it was hard to separate it from her own life now—not that she had much of one. But that was what happened when you dedicated your existence to vengeance.

  Again, Dana found herself wondering if she’d always been on a crash course with this destiny. It was becoming clearer by the day that she belonged here, working with Shepard and the FBI. She’d hoped science would help her track a killer, but maybe it took working with a trained killer to catch one.

  The thought staunched her appetite. Dana put her chopsticks down and took a sip of water. When she set the bottle down, Shepard’s eyes were on her.

  “I guess now is as good a time as any to start.” Dana sighed and uncrossed her legs. Fidgeting with a loose thread on the white comforter, she began. “I was thirteen when my parents went missing.”

  “Missing? Why do you say that?”

  “Because that’s what they were. For a while anyway. They left me with my grandparents in West Virginia while they went on vacation. They were supposed to be in North Carolina, finally taking a real honeymoon. My mom wanted to see the ocean.” Dana had to stop to suck in a breath and blink away the stinging in her eyes. “Sorry.”

  “You don’t need to apologize.”

  “I know, I just hate feeling so … weak.”

  “You’re not weak. You’re human.”

  She lifted her head, her gaze meeting Shepard’s. His blue eyes held hers. Beneath his stormy expression she saw understanding, and it gave her the strength to keep going.

  “My parents told me they were going to Hilton Head. When they didn’t come home, that’s where the police started looking. It was weeks before the John and Jane Doe found in that crappy Maryland hotel were identified as my parents.”

  Jake frowne
d. “I read your parents’ file. The MOs are slightly different.”

  Dana’s chest tightened. “You have their case file?”

  “Cramer shared some of the digitized documents with me before I left. They were encrypted. I no longer have access.”

  “I’ve been trying to get access to it for years.”

  “You haven’t seen their crime scene photos?”

  She shook her head. “Not officially.”

  “Then how did you know the scenes were similar?”

  “A newspaper leaked two photos when my parents were identified.”

  “Do you still have them?”

  She nodded. “At my office. But I’ve memorized them by now.” Dana looked down at her hands. “That sort of thing sticks with you.”

  Shepard frowned. “I still find it odd that our unsub changed his MO. The wallets were left at all the current crime scenes with the victims, making them easy to ID. Your parents’ were not.”

  “I thought about that,” Dana replied. “It’s been almost twenty years. Maybe the killer has evolved. Or maybe the current victims were random, and my parents weren’t.”

  Shepard nodded and scribbled something in his notebook.

  “Anyway,” Dana continued, “my parents’ death was ruled a murder-suicide.”

  “Why?”

  “Because there was no murder weapon, no signs of struggle, drugs or anything that led the police to suspect foul play.”

  “Except the pentagram and empty poison vials.”

  Dana nodded. “But that only made the suicide theory stronger. I overheard my grandparents talking to the police officer who came to their house. They said it was just a satanic ritual gone wrong.”

  “Were your parents into that kind of stuff?”

  “No. My mother was a high school math teacher, and my father was a bank manager.”

  “Is it possible his job at the bank was the reason he was targeted?”

  Dana shook her head. “I looked into that. It was a small-town bank in West Virginia, and there were never any insurance claims or other inconsistencies that would make me believe so.”

  “What was the name of the bank?” Shepard scribbled down her answer. “When did you look into this?”

  “When I was fifteen, but I followed up annually for ten years.” Shepard’s gaze lifted to hers. “I told you. I’ve dedicated my entire life to this. I intend to see this through.”

  “Have you explored the possibility that maybe they were involved in this satanic church we’re investigating?”

  “They weren’t.”

  “Just because you don’t want them to be—”

  “That’s not it,” she interrupted. “They loved each other. They loved me.”

  “Love can make people irrational, unpredictable.”

  “You don’t understand.” Dana went on to tell him about her parents’ love story. How they met and fell in love, their whirlwind marriage and her welcomed arrival. “Do they sound like the kind of people who would just give that all up?”

  “No. I’ll admit it doesn’t fit. But Dana, that’s not proof that they weren’t involved in things you weren’t aware of. In all these cases, murder-suicide could be a logical answer.”

  “It’s not.”

  “We have to explore all options. Didn’t you tell me that’s what science is all about?”

  Dana cocked her head. “When did you decide occult studies was a science?”

  Shepard’s mouth twitched into a tight grin. “Let’s just stick to the facts. We have no suspects. No witnesses of any other person in the hotel rooms with our victims. No foul play. No signs of a struggle. We need to be prepared for what we might find at the church tomorrow.”

  “You think the victims were members? That they chose this kind of death?”

  “It’s a possibility you should prepare for.”

  Dana’s heart stopped. When it picked up its rhythm again, it was at a much faster pace. She was lightheaded again. This couldn’t be true. If Shepard was right, if her parents had chosen this path, it meant she’d wasted her life studying death.

  Her heart pounded hard, drowning out reason as her mind desperately tried to grasp at straws.

  “Hey.” Shepard’s voice cut through her panic. “Take a breath.” He moved next to her, his wide hand on her back. “Put your head between your knees and breathe.”

  She felt the bed dip under his weight as she complied. His hand stayed on her back, rubbing slow circles until her breathing steadied.

  Dana’s cheeks heated with embarrassment when she sat up. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s only natural to feel the way you do.”

  “How would you know how I feel?”

  “Betrayed. Alone. Lost.” Jake’s hand was still on her lower back, offering way too much comfort.

  Dana stood, instantly cold without the warmth of his touch. “I told you, I don’t like it when you profile me.”

  Jake sighed and moved back to the desk chair. He picked up his notebook and surprised her by snapping it closed.

  “Are we done?” she asked.

  “For now.”

  “No. I can keep going. You don’t have to take it easy on me.”

  “Trust me, I’m not. You’re tougher than some men I’ve put through interrogation training.”

  Dana deflated, taking a seat back on the bed. It wasn’t fair that she was being so defensive. Jake was just doing his job. “I wish I could say I felt tough right now, but I just feel …”

  “Defeated?” he offered.

  She nodded. “My life hasn’t been easy. But I guess I always thought the choices I made would be worth it in the end.”

  35

  Jake knew Dana was being modest when she said her life hadn’t been easy. He’d done a deep dive into her history after talking to Cramer. He knew her grandparents had been ill for a long time, passing away when she was seventeen. That was a whole lot of death for someone to deal with at such a young age. It almost justified her field of study.

  He’d also learned that rather than go into the system, Dana had emancipated herself shortly after her grandparents’ death. After that, she’d lived a quiet life and focused on academics. She received a scholarship to Georgetown and excelled from there. Everything she’d accomplished, she’d done on her own. He understood that, respected it even. He also knew how hard it was to be alone in the world.

  The fact that she didn’t elaborate on how isolated her life had been only spoke to her strength. Her parents’ death had altered her life’s trajectory. Jake knew all too well what that was like. He wouldn’t be in the FBI if it weren’t for what happened in Ghazni.

  “You’re doing it again.”

  Jake looked up to see Dana studying him. “Doing what?”

  “Chewing the inside of your cheek. You do it when you’re working through something.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Is it your friend? Ramirez?”

  Dana’s warm brown eyes were so inviting the truth slipped right out of him. “Yeah.” He tore his gaze away. Standing, he walked to the window. “The rain always makes me think of him.” Jake huffed a laugh. “He loved it. I’ve never met anyone who got so excited about the rain.”

  “The snow always makes me think of my parents. My mom loved it. They would both call in sick and take the whole day off so we could make waffles and go sledding on the first snowfall.”

  The fondness in Dana’s voice only made Jake’s heart ache more. “I don’t think Danny ever saw the snow.”

  “When it snows, I always think it means my parents are looking down on me, kind of like guardian angels watching over me.”

  Jake turned to face her. “You don’t actually believe that, do you?”

  “Why not?”

  “After all the horrible evil you study, you still believe there’s that kind of goodness in the world?”

  “You know what I’ve learned studying death? The thing we fear most isn’t death, it’s the finality of be
ing alone. But for every story of hell, there’s one of heaven. For every culture’s devil, an angel exists to watch over us, and guide us through the evil. That’s what I cling to when I feel my parents’ loss the most. I let myself believe they’re somewhere, watching, guiding, guarding me with their love, just like they would if they were standing right here next to me.” Dana stood up and crossed the room, taking his hand. “It can be the same with you and Danny, if you let it.”

  Jake swallowed the lump in his throat, pushing thoughts of Ramirez and Dana’s parents from his mind. As comforting as Dana’s ideals were, Jake preferred to focus on the tangible, like the extraordinary woman standing in front of him. “I meant what I said before. If we’re going to do this, we do it together.”

  “I know.”

  “If this is too much for you, I need to know now.”

  “I already told you it’s not.”

  “All right. I won’t ask again.” He slipped his hand from hers and walked back to the desk to pack up his food.

  “Are you leaving?”

  “Do you want me to stay?”

  Her cheeks flushed, but she shook her head.

  “Then I think I’ll call it a night. Unless you feel like flipping through murder books.”

  “Do you think that will help?”

  Jake paused, looking up at her intense gaze. “That was a joke, Doc.”

  “Oh.”

  Seeing the desperation in her brown eyes put another chink in his armor. Perhaps he shouldn’t leave her alone. “Maybe it could help.”

  “No, that’s okay. I know the scenes inside out by now.”

  “I don’t mind giving them another look with you. You were just at your parents’ crime scene for the first time. You could’ve picked up on something new.”

  Dana’s eyes widened. “You have my parents’ murder book?”

  “No. I put in a request, but since it’s a cold case, it wasn’t readily available. I just saw the few things Cramer shared with me.”

  “Right.” The disappointment in her voice was clear.

  “It should be on my desk when we get back to DC. I can see about getting you access to it if you’d like.”