Blood Stained

by CJ Lyons

  Between the cold bundle in his arms and the night air surrounding him, he was shivering as well. Without moving her, he reached behind him, up to the doorknob and tried to turn it. Locked. "What are you doing out here so late?"

  She pointed to the stuffed cat at her feet, her hands lost in the sleeves of his sweatshirt. Adam scooped up the cat. One of its glass eyes was missing, the space left behind colored in with blue marker to match the remaining eye. He handed it to her.

  "I woke up," she said, not looking at him but focused on the cat. "Miss Priss was gone. I went to look for her. She was hiding in Mommy's car." She nodded to a Chevy Impala parked beside a black Ford F-150. The truck was shiny, even in the moonlight. Chrome accents, fancy toolbox. The Chevy listed to one side, its front tire flat, and had more primer than paint holding it together.

  "You got locked out?"

  She nodded. It couldn't have been too long ago or, dressed the way she was, she'd be dead.

  "Didn't you knock?"

  "No one answered. I hit it as loud as I could, rang the doorbell. Mommy and Bert are asleep. They didn't wake up." She looked up at him with wide eyes so big they could have swallowed the moon reflected in them. "Do you think they're okay?"

  Something stung Adam's cheek. He reached a hand up and realized it was a tear. Just the cold, he told himself. He stood up, taking Sally and Miss Priss with him, and carried them to the truck. The doors were open. He slid Sally into the passenger seat. It was a little warmer in here and she was out of the wind.

  A few seconds later he had the engine running and heat blasting from the vents.

  "How would you and Miss Priss like to come home with me?" he asked, tickling the cat under its chin. Sally giggled at that, the color already returning to her face. "My name is Adam. I'm kinda your big brother."

  She yawned, covering her mouth after the fact, and curled up with her head resting against the back of the seat. "What about Mommy?"

  "I'll leave her a note so she won't worry."

  "No. I mean, who's going to take care of her?"

  "Don't worry. I'll come back and take care of her. That's too much work for a little girl like you. You just leave it all to me."

  Another yawn. This time she didn't even bother to cover it. Instead she let her eyes drift shut.

  "Stay here in the truck. I'll be right back." Adam left her half asleep and walked around to the back door. Another spring lock, cheap and easier to pop than the one at Darrin's place.

  The stench of ammonia was worse inside. The woman and man didn’t stir. He walked down the hall, keeping his knife at the ready just in case, and entered the small second bedroom. Sally's room had no bed, just a mattress on the floor. There were a few toys, all well loved, and tons of drawings on every kind of paper imaginable: old newspaper, brown paper bags, wrapping paper, packaging. A KFC bucket was filled with crayons, their wrappers torn off, some worn down to tiny stubs.

  A few plastic milk crates formed a pseudo-dresser. Beside them was a pink Hello Kitty backpack. Adam took it, shoving clothing, barrettes, a hairbrush, and a few Barbie dolls, coloring books and a handful of crayons inside. Then he added a pair of sneakers. He grabbed Sally's coat, pink fake fur, along with her blanket and pillow.

  He'd get her new crayons tomorrow. No way in hell she was ever coming back here.

  When he returned to the main room the man and woman were still sound asleep, one of them snoring. He walked past them, crunching a meth pipe beneath his foot. A pair of nice black leather cowboy boots stood beside the end table. Hanging from the back of one of the kitchen chairs was a matching leather motorcycle jacket with padded insulation. Adam slid the jacket on and tried the boots on for size. A little loose, but better than his sneakers.

  He left the sneakers in their place. Then he raided the kitchen, using Sally's pillowcase as a bag. Other than the ingredients to cook meth, there wasn't much. But now with two mouths to feed, he'd need more than what was stashed at the cave. He grabbed a box of instant oatmeal, a few cans of soup, Pop Tarts, and some Girl Scout cookies he found in the freezer. In the freezer he also found a wad of cash wrapped up in rubber bands. He took that as well as the two sets of car keys hanging from a hook beside the front door.

  He opened all the doors and windows before grabbing his stash. Feeling like Santa Claus with everything bundled up in Sally's pink blanket, he returned to the truck. Sally was still asleep, but she smiled and squeezed his finger when he took her hand. Nice and warm and pink. Just the way it should be.

  He hoped like hell it was cold enough to freeze the fish he left behind.

  Chapter 7

  Adam woke to a finger wiggling in his ear. It tickled. Then came a little girl's giggle. She removed the finger and patted his face like a blind person. It was dark enough in the cave she probably felt blind.

  He smiled beneath her palm. She giggled again. Adam flicked on the flashlight—the tiny LED one so it wouldn't fill the room with shocking light—and handed it to her. Bright streams edged in blue danced through the darkness above them.

  The pink blanket jostled from his body as he sat up. He wrapped it around Sally's shoulders. "Good morning."

  She bounced, excited by the play of light. "Hey, Adam," she sang out, as if she woke up next to strangers everyday. Given what he'd seen in the trailer, maybe she did. She turned, the light held between them so he could see her face. "Where's the potty?"

  Whoops. Hadn't really planned for that. Not with a little girl in mind, anyway. He hastily converted a bucket into a makeshift toilet for her in a far corner of the cave, behind a rock formation for privacy. She didn't complain about the primitive conditions, but Adam felt embarrassed. Now that he had cash, he could do better. He began a shopping list.

  They ate breakfast outside, listening to the weather radio and watching squirrels chase themselves through the trees. Sally clapped and cheered her favorites, tossing them crumbs of Pop Tarts in reward. The guy on the radio said it would snow today. The cave would be warm enough, but Adam decided to stock up on more food, maybe a way to cook it—he doubted Sally would like cold Chef Boyardee straight from the can like he did—and a lantern that would last if the snow kept them inside for long. Maybe one of those fancy Coleman ones. Or he could borrow a kerosene lantern from the Stolfultz's barn. They had tons there. Wouldn't miss one or two. He added it to his list.

  "Do you have school?" he asked Sally. He couldn't take her into town. She'd be safe in school.

  She shook her head, zooming Miss Priss around like she was a flying squirrel instead of a cat. Miss Priss managed to look offended by the indignity of it all. "No, silly. I'm only four. But I get to go next year. Like the big kids. I'm gonna learn how to read real books."

  Okay. No school. "I have to go into town."

  "To check on Mommy? Sometimes she's hard to wake up in the morning." Sally's voice dropped. "Some mornings she wakes up okay but she's real cranky. Then you have to be very, very quiet. No cartoons. But coloring's okay."

  "I'll check on your mommy. She'll be real proud of what a big girl you're being on your first adventure."

  "I'm Dora the Explorer," she proclaimed. "Where does Dora go potty when she's in the jungle 'sploring? Does she have a bucket, too?"

  Adam had no clue what Dora did although he'd seen her on one of Sally's coloring books. A book with every page, every margin, even the inside covers filled with pictures. "I'll bet she does. But not a cave. Not one as nice as this."

  "It's good to go 'sploring with friends." She took Adam's hand, intertwining his fingers with hers, and swung it back and forth.

  "How about if I show you another part of the cave? A very special part? You can wait there and color and play while I go check on your mommy."

  She curled Miss Priss into her free arm. "Can Miss Priss come, too?"

  "Sure. We'd never leave Miss Priss behind, would we?"

  "Okay. You get to be Boots." She jumped to her feet and tugged Adam to his. "C'mon, Adam. We're 'splorers!"


  <><><>

  During the night Lucy kept re-living those three days she spent in New Hope four years ago. In her dreams, she walked step by step through her part of the investigation—which at the time had been considered a wild goose chase, not an official case.

  No one expected her to find anything in New Hope, much less a serial killer's lair. And then, after it was all over, she was considered a victim. Not a professional.

  None of that was what her sleeping mind had focused on. Instead she dreamed of Adam Caine and their journey into the mountain. Nightmares filled with darkness so black you breathed it in and it grew inside you, filling your veins.

  Slashing pain, screams, and the staccato image of Marion Caine, lit only by a trembling flashlight beam, being pulled into the crevasse by her abductor, a man whose face no one except Marion ever saw clearly.

  From the clock, Lucy knew her nightmares had lasted no more than a few minutes. But each time she woke, it was as if she had lived through days of terror.

  The next morning when she arrived in her office and found her boss, John Greally, sitting at her desk, she knew her plans of finishing the Plushenko trial and heading out to New Hope were about to go up in smoke.

  "I've got good news and bad news," John said, drinking coffee from one of Lucy's mugs. He said Lucy's coffee was better, but really he often came down to chat—usually when he had a problem that needed untangling without going through official channels.

  Lucy slung her bag onto the conference table and leaned against it. She'd worn her only "power suit" for court this morning. It was crimson—dark enough to be business-like, red enough to be intimidating. She hoped it would keep the defense attorney on the Plushenko case on the defensive.

  "Good news is Plushenko pled out," John continued. "Guess your testimony yesterday put the fear of God into him."

  That was good news. No court. She could head out immediately for New Hope. Except…"And the bad news?"

  "Well, maybe not bad news. Actually, I pulled a few strings to make it happen. I got your psych eval scheduled for today."

  Lucy gave him a slow blink. Something she'd learned from Megan. Less offensive than an eye roll of disgust, but almost as effective. "I feel like all I've been doing these past few months is talking to psych services. Surely they can use those evals for my semi-annual review?"

  "Doesn't work like that. You know everyone working this unit has to undergo evaluation every six months. It's an easy day, Lucy. Go in, do a little moaning and groaning, tell them what their damn ink splots mean, then the rest of the day is yours." He opened his hands as if giving her a gift. "It's Friday. Gives you all weekend to relax. Did you think about my offer of taking some vacation time? It's slow enough around here right now."

  John had never worked sexual assaults or crimes against children. He had no idea how rigorous the psych evals were. Probing into every nook and cranny of your subconscious, trying to weed out potential head cases, the agents close to snapping who might decide to take justice into their own hands against the Plushenkos of the world.

  Not her idea of an easy day. But his heart was in the right place, so Lucy smiled and nodded like a good Supervisory Special Agent should. "Guess I better change if I'm going to be lying on a couch for most of the day."

  "Great. I'll start pushing through paper to give you next week off." He grabbed his coffee and got up to leave. He stopped when he came shoulder to shoulder with her. "Sometimes it's important to remember why we do what we do. Go someplace fun. Put a smile on Megan's face. Take long bubble baths. Hell, stay home and turn off the phones for all I care. But, Lucy, I need you to come back in a better place."

  She jerked her chin to face him. She'd spent the past two months doing everything the brass asked. "Are you saying I can't do my job?"

  "I'm saying doing this job and taking care of a family requires a tightrope walk. Consider this vacation your safety net."

  What the hell did that mean? It wasn't like John to play word games. He was a friend, an old friend. "John—"

  "Don't say anything. You're the best at what you do. But sometimes that doesn't translate well on paper. The brass are looking at this unit under a microscope. They'll soon get bored and move on and life around here can get back to normal. But until then, you need to stay off their radar, understand?"

  "No, I don't. I almost died for this job. My people almost died. My daughter almost died. If they don't like the way I did things, then—" Anger scorched her words into dust. Her hands clenched into two fists as the muscles at her jaw spasmed.

  Greally raised one of her fists and forced it to unclench. He slid the warm coffee mug into it. "Take the time off, Lucy. This job isn't everything. In the long run, despite all the good we do, it isn't anything. Not compared to family. Sometimes we need to remember that."

  <><><>

  Sally had actually enjoyed exploring the rest of Adam's cave. She called him Boots and ordered him around as if he didn't know where he was going. And she wanted him to make goofy monkey sounds, so he did. It was worth it to make her laugh.

  The only time she flinched was when he scooped her up to ride piggyback down the ladder into the pit. At first he thought she was afraid of heights, but once they were on the bottom, she scampered back up and down the ladder fearlessly while he set out her toys and coloring books on her blanket. That's when he realized what had frightened her. Poor kid never had anyone give her a piggyback before.

  "You're sure you'll be all right alone here?" he asked after they sat and colored together for a while. Long enough for the wind-up light to start to fade. Before he could do anything, Sally cranked it back up just as he'd shown her. Even with the light, the pit was still rimmed with shadows. But in a few hours the sun would be high enough to add light through the overhead opening.

  Sally kept on drawing. He had the feeling she spent a lot of time alone in the dark. The thought made him angry and sad.

  "I'll bring you back more crayons and coloring books."

  She nodded eagerly. Then surprised him by jumping up and giving him a hug. "I like having a big brother, Adam," she whispered into his ear as she clung to him.

  Now he was the one startled. Not sure how to respond. Slowly he wrapped his arms around her, careful not to squeeze too hard. "You're my favorite little sister in the whole world." Reluctantly he released her. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

  She tickled his face with Miss Priss, and then returned to her earnest activity. He'd never seen anyone take coloring so seriously.

  As he left he was already worrying about her. About how he was going to take care of her. Because now she was his.

  How had Dad done it? So many years of taking care of him and Mom and even the fish. Adam stepped out from the entrance of the cave and sucked in a bracing breath of November air. Time to be a man.

  He marched into the woods, determined, for once in his life, not to screw things up.

  Chapter 8

  Lucy changed into her regular work clothes of khakis and a button-down and slid her suit into a garment bag. It was only 8:20; her appointment with the shrink wasn't until ten.

  New Hope was a two-hour drive. No matter how she tried to ignore it, the thought kept ricocheting back. She had a go-bag in her office closet with extra clothes, toiletries, winter gear. Not that she'd need it. She could be to New Hope and back before Megan came home from soccer.

  To hell with the shrink. Making sure Adam was okay would do a helluva lot more good for her psyche.

  She grabbed her travel duffle, hid it by folding the garment bag over top her arm, smiled at everyone she saw on the way out, and left without saying a word.

  She'd just reached her car when an official unmarked vehicle, a gray Taurus, pulled up with Jenna Galloway at the wheel. "Get in," the postal inspector shouted through the window.

  Lucy opened the passenger door but didn't get in. "Where you off to?"

  "New Hope. Thought you might want to ride with me."

  "I told you. I
'll take care of Adam Caine. You get back on Operation Roundup."

  "Taylor's got it covered. And the threatening letter you received falls under Postal Service jurisdiction. You've got no standing to investigate it even if you weren't a principle. Plus, I'm the new guy here. How's the team gonna feel if I let you waltz off and something happens?"

  Lucy hesitated.

  "I'm going with or without you. C'mon," Jenna wheedled. "This place isn't even on the map. Wouldn't want me to get lost, would you?"

  "All right. But on two conditions."

  "What?"

  "I drive." Lucy threw her stuff into the backseat.

  "Sure." Jenna hopped out of the driver's seat before Lucy made it around the front of the Taurus. After they were both belted in and headed towards the security perimeter, Jenna asked, "What's the second condition?"

  "You do not document Adam's name in anything without clearing it with me first. Kid's had it rough enough. I'm not about to ruin his life because of some misguided cry for attention."

  "I can live with that."

  Lucy waved at the guard as they drove past, then turned onto Carson Street. She smiled and eased back in the driver's seat, effortlessly navigating around the civilians on their way to work. Not even nine o'clock and she was risking her career to do what her gut told her was the right thing. To help a lost kid who needed her. Just like she had two months ago.

  Finally, life felt good again.

  <><><>

  Adam had left the truck parked in the staff lot behind the school, so he headed there. Perfect timing to catch a glimpse of Marty and Darrin. Since the district was so large geographically, the buses had to make two trips, leaving kids from the early routes time to play before the bell rang.

  Or sometimes not to play. As Adam drew close to the rear of the school where the playground lay, he spotted Darrin and Marty. They were the two kids everyone ignored, herded into a corner by four boys twice their age. Bullies.