by Mary Stone
That insult had been a shot in the dark, but when Ellie’s jaw tightened, Katarina knew she’d hit the target. Surprising, really. From the puppy dog eyes Agent Lockwood made at the detective, Katarina had figured they’d be an item by now. The jab had been aimed at her ex-boyfriend, the fancy rich philanthropist who was often splashed across the papers.
Ellie’s chest raised and lowered in five long, slow breaths. “Believe it or not, I didn’t drive out here just to trade insults. I have better things to do with my day.”
Katarina opened her mouth as wide as she could and yawned. When she finished, she blinked up at the detective. “Oh, I’m sorry, were you saying something? I would have covered my mouth, but you know how it is with these kinky psych doctors. They just can’t stop themselves from indulging in a little patient BDSM.”
Ellie ducked her head and made an odd noise in her throat. If Katarina didn’t know better, she’d accuse the detective of having a sense of humor. “So, why did you really come here?” she asked. “I know! Maybe you came to spring me out.”
Slowly, the detective lifted her gaze to meet Katarina’s. “I don’t have the authority to release you. It’s up to the doctor.”
Katarina rolled her eyes before closing them. “Sure. Like I don’t know that if it were left up to you, I’d be locked up in a prison with no hope for parole.”
“You’re right. I do like to lock up bad guys whenever possible. But I also know better than to argue with the Attorney General when he grants someone a ‘get out of jail free’ card. Besides, the past is in the past. You haven’t killed anyone lately, have you?”
Clayne’s face appeared behind Katarina’s eyelids, flashing that same confident grin from the afternoon they’d first met, back in the dark bar that squatted in the shadows of the Grand Tetons. His eyes had brimmed with humor and life then, even lust.
Unlike the terror in those gray depths in his last moments, when he’d begged for his life…or the dull acceptance an instant before she’d slit his throat.
Katarina flinched, but the image refused to fade. No less than she deserved.
Flawed or not, the man had stood by her side and helped her hunt down Kingsley to reclaim her daughter. Katarina had done lots of unforgivable things in her life, but this one topped the list.
She opened her eyes and glared. “Either tell me what you’re doing here or get the hell out. I’m tired of this visit already.”
The detective didn’t respond right away, so Katarina filled the downtime by subjecting her nemesis to a thorough once-over. That crisp tailored charcoal suit she wore easily cost more than most of Katarina’s closet combined, and Ellie hadn’t even earned that fancy wardrobe through hard work.
Her fair skin was smooth and perfect, no doubt thanks to a drawer full of expensive beauty products, and those baby pink nails appeared fresh from a manicure because only the best would do for the daughter of the wealthy Kline family. All due to a stroke of luck at birth. Some twist of fate that plopped her into the hands of loving, loaded parents.
Meanwhile, Katarina had been passed around from home to home like the hand-me-down clothes she had to wear. Each time, the new set of parents wanted to recreate Katarina into their image of a perfect daughter. No one ever asked Katarina what style of clothes she’d prefer to wear or which hobbies she might enjoy, but any failure to display an appropriate amount of enthusiasm for whatever they chose for her led to trouble.
Good thing she was a quick study. It only took one slap across the face and one accusation of ungrateful brat for Katarina to learn that her needs and wants didn’t matter. Not even when foster parents claimed they did. The safe option was to slip on the new clothes and personality like a mask and play a never-ending game of pretend.
Bitterness welled like blood to a scratch as Katarina glared at the elegant, expensively dressed trespasser who’d barged into her hospital room like she owned the place. Who knew? Maybe she did. Nothing would surprise Katarina less than to discover one or more Klines owned a stake in the building that trapped her. At the very least, their twenty-four carat asses probably all sat in seats on the board.
Lucky bitch. As she eyed Ellie Kline in her beautiful suit, perched on the ugly brown chair like a princess lowering herself to visit a peasant, Katarina bet that the detective had never spent a single day of her life pretending. Must be nice growing up with doting parents who accepted you the way you were.
“Why haven’t I been given any updates on Bethany? What are you guys even doing to find her, beyond annoying the hell out of patients trapped in the loony bin?”
Ellie’s nose wrinkled at that last bit, which only irritated Katarina more. Screw her highness’s disapproval. Katarina was the one stuck here. As far as she was concerned, that gave her the right to call this hellhole whatever she liked.
Or maybe the detective wasn’t reacting to her wording at all, but the smell. Katarina couldn’t remember the last time she’d showered. She lifted one arm and sniffed. Oof. Definitely ripe. But what the hell could anyone expect, tied to a bed all day and night?
Eyes narrowed, she bent her elbows and flapped her arms like a chicken, hoping to push the reek of BO in Ellie’s direction. Take that, Princess.
The detective’s nose twitched, but she was too polite to comment. “The Charleston Police Department is working in coordination with the FBI to pool resources and find your daughter as soon as possible. We have officers and agents working around the clock and chasing down every credible lead.”
Katarina sneered. “Blah blah blah, give me a break. You sound like a trained seal. If I’d wanted to hear that kind of politically correct department speak, I’d flip on the ten o’clock news.”
Not that she could flip on the news in this stupid place even if she wanted to, because apparently those sort of real-world events were deemed too upsetting for the patients’ fragile mental states. Katarina would be lucky if they let her watch the cartoons.
Ellie’s lips tightened as she tugged on a loose strand of hair. “I’m sorry if I came across that way, but we really do have agents—”
“Cut the bullshit already. I just want the truth. Why haven’t they found Bethany yet? Or are only kids from fancy families with McMansions and seven-figure stock portfolios considered worth the effort to find?”
The detective’s spine stiffened, and her hands balled in her lap. “That’s not true. Money doesn’t matter at all in kidnapping cases.”
Katarina narrowed her eyes. “Spoken like someone who comes from money because they’re the only ones clueless enough to say shit like that.”
Red splotched the other woman’s cheeks. The gray jacket Katarina admired lifted and lowered several times before she replied. “I agree that money often makes a difference when it shouldn’t, but I don’t believe that kidnapping cases are one of those times. Just about every officer or agent who puts on a uniform dreams of being a hero, and nothing is more heroic than rescuing a pretty little girl from the clutches of a sick and twisted sociopath. So, to answer your question…everything. Everything is being done to find her.”
Katarina grunted her disbelief, earning her a frustrated glare.
Ellie exhaled another long breath. “That’s the main reason I’m here, to help chase down any possible lead. No one knows Kingsley better than you, so I’m hoping that by talking, we can shake some little detail or memory free that will help lead me to Kingsley, and Bethany by default.”
The laugh that burst from Katarina’s lips rang harsh in the sterile little cell of a room. “That all sounds great in theory, except for one little problem. No one truly knows Kingsley. Not even Kingsley himself. Besides, even if I did know something, telling you would be a waste of breath. We both know you wouldn’t believe me anyway.”
Ellie braced her palms on her thighs and leaned forward. “Try me.”
After a brief internal debate, Katarina was swayed by the feverish intensity in the detective’s green eyes. What the hell? Worst case, Ellie would shake h
er head at the end of the story, draw the same conclusions about Katarina’s sanity as the doctors, and finally leave her in peace.
“He came to visit me. Right here in the hospital. Well, not in this room, but in my ICU room downstairs. He waltzed in like he owned the place and started asking me questions only Kingsley would know to ask, but when I screamed for the nurse, no one believed me. So, yeah, I guess I do know Kingsley. At least, enough to recognize him when he’s wearing a disguise and no one else had a clue.”
The story had an effect, just not in the way Katarina had anticipated. Ellie sprang to her feet, but instead of running, she surged closer to the bed. “You’d better not be messing with me right now.” Those manicured hands curled around one of the side rails that formed Katarina’s cage. “Are you telling me the truth? Did you really see Kingsley in your room?”
Katarina gaped at Ellie’s glittering eyes and flushed cheeks. Her heart skipped a beat. Was it possible that someone in this awful place finally believed her and didn’t chalk her story up to a mental breakdown?
“Oh, it was real, all right. What the hell reason would I have to lie? But if you require further convincing, go check the surveillance footage. I’m guessing a place like this has camera feeds that actually work.”
Katarina held the detective’s glittering stare for a good ten seconds before Ellie nodded. “Okay. I believe you. Or at least that you believe that’s what happened.”
“Gee, thanks. I’m ever so grateful that you believe I’m telling the truth, even if you’re half convinced I’m hallucinating.”
Ellie tapped her foot and sighed. “Look—”
“No, you look!” Katarina broke in, urgency making her talk fast. “You were partially right when you said I know Kingsley better than anyone because I do know better than anyone what he’s capable of. Even with little girls he feels affection for. He started grooming me on the first day he walked in the door of the Davidsons’ house, the latest in a long line of parents. Not in a kiddy diddling way, but in a psychopath crazy as shit way.”
Katarina closed her eyes, forcing her mind away from that day.
“What happened?”
Katarina forced herself to meet Ellie’s green gaze again. “Those people, the Davidsons, were worse than shitty parents, but they didn’t deserve to burn to death…or to have that sick bastard prey on all my loneliness and anger and press a knife in my hand and make it obvious that I either cut them or die alongside them. I was just a kid.”
The words rang soft and hollow in her ears, so she repeated them. Louder, with more conviction this time.
“I was just a kid. Parentless and scared and sad and confused. That asshole got me when I was older than Bethany, and already harder, and that was just the first horror in a whole string of them.”
“I’m sorry, Katarina.”
Katarina cringed at the gentleness in Ellie’s voice. Screw that. She didn’t need anyone’s pity, least of all the red-haired princess bitch. Messed up or not, she’d survived.
“Spare me your sympathy. I only told you that story to remind you of what’s at stake here. My daughter is innocent and good. We can’t let him ruin her like he did me. Please find her.”
“Tell me more about her. What are some of her favorite things? What’s she like?”
Through her rising panic, Katarina pictured her daughter’s smiling face, and her mouth softened. “She loves pancakes and waffles, especially the kind you make yourself at those free all-you-can-eat breakfasts they have at hotels. Her favorite superhero is Wonder Woman. She’s a pro at getting you to read her a second bedtime story, loves playing games of pretend and learning new facts. That kid is incredibly resilient, and at eight years old has more ingenuity in her little finger than I’ve had in my entire damn life.”
She stopped talking to drag air down her constricted throat as waves of helpless frustration threatened to overwhelm her. Bethany had been missing for over a week now. Long enough for Kingsley to have inflicted permanent damage on her tender eight-year-old psyche.
Ellie rose from the chair. “I’m sorry, I know this must be awful, but I swear I’m not lying when I tell you we’re pulling out all the stops to find her.”
Katarina tugged on the wrist straps. “If that’s true, then you’ll help me get out of here.”
The detective hesitated, studying Katarina’s bound arms like she was tempted before lifting her shoulders. “Like I said before, it’s not up to me. Do what you need to do, say what you need to say to get yourself out of here.” Her long legs made quick work of the room, and within moments, the detective was at the door, where she paused. “I promise I’ll be in touch the second I hear anything.”
The door clicked shut behind her, and she was gone.
Angry tears sprang to Katarina’s eyes, but she choked back the cry, fighting the emotion until she was sure Ellie was out of range. She counted ten seconds before the dam burst, and the bed shook from the force of her sobs.
Bethany was out there, trapped with one of the most demented men on the face of the earth, and Katarina’s fleeting hope that the police would find her soon had died the second Detective Kline opened her mouth.
Her daughter was in danger, and there wasn’t a damn thing Katarina could do to protect her. Not while strapped to this bed.
I’m sorry, baby girl. I’m so sorry.
She sobbed and sobbed until a male voice intruded on her pain. “Hey, now. It can’t be as bad as all that.”
The kind voice only made her cry harder.
“Is this about your little girl? I promise the doctor will let you out as soon as you show that you’re stable.”
A harsh laugh scraped her raw throat. She lifted her head and blinked until Jasper’s features were no longer blurry from tears. “Stable? How could anyone in my position be stable, knowing that their daughter is in the hands of a killer? Please, tell me what the acceptable behavior is for this scenario, and I’ll get right to work. How about smiling, is that what the psychologists want to see right now? Here, how’s this?”
Katarina grinned so wide that her cheeks ached, making Jasper flinch and glance away. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault. But do you get it now? The most unstable thing I could do is spend my days smiling and giggling and looking on the bright side. That would be the real show of crazy.” Katarina’s fingers latched onto his forearm when he moved close enough. “Freaking out is the normal thing to do. I need to get out of here. Now. Please, help me.”
As she pleaded with her eyes, Jasper’s expression softened. “I’ll talk to the doctor for you, okay? I promise. I’ll try to help you in any way I can.”
Katarina gripped his arm a few seconds longer, savoring the prolonged contact with bare, warm skin before pulling away.
She knew better than to hope. Hell, she knew there were laws that should stop this damn hospital from keeping her tied up so long, but there was nothing she could do about that either.
No one could help her. No one had ever been able to help her.
Defeat crashed over her like a tidal wave, destroying every lingering speck of energy. Katarina closed her eyes.
“Just go away. You can’t help me now. No one can.”
13
The hospital elevator eased to a stop and dinged before the doors slid open. Ellie waited on the two chatting nurses in blue scrubs to exit first before following them into the lobby, her mind reeling from the visit with Katarina. So many shocks in such a short amount of time.
The transformation of the tough-as-nails criminal into an adoring, worried mom had thrown her more than it should have. Now, she had to sit with the discomfort that the other woman might have a point about Ellie’s privilege blinding her to reality sometimes.
Later, though. She needed her mind clear to deal with the other surprise…Kingsley. If Katarina was to be believed, he’d shown up at her bedside.
Ellie didn’t care what the doctors said about Katarina. Apart from that weir
d chicken wing thing, the woman had seemed lucid. Furious, scared, and snarky, but not at all delusional. Sneaking into a hospital room under everyone’s noses was exactly the type of maneuver Kingsley would get off on.
Her gut tightened as she hurried past the waiting area full of soothing seafoam-green couches and abstract blue and green paintings and headed for the front desk.
A silver-haired man in wire-rimmed glasses offered a polite smile as she strode up to the window. “How may I help you today?”
Ellie showed the CPD badge tucked in her jacket pocket. “I was hoping you could help me view some hospital surveillance footage.”
The employee fumbled his smile but managed a last-second save. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid hospital policy requires a warrant be provided first, due to the private nature of the footage. Do you have a warrant?”
She’d figured as much but had to try. Hopefully, the chief was already working on that warrant request she’d sent via text message while waiting on the elevator. “Not yet, but it’s being processed as we speak. If you could have your security or admin department get that footage ready by the time I get back, I’d appreciate it.”
The employee’s noncommittal “hmm” failed to get Ellie’s hopes up, and she muttered to herself as she left through the sliding doors.
“No, really, don’t put yourself out. It’s only the life of an eight-year-old girl at stake, that’s all. No big deal or anything.”
Shane frowned from where he shadowed her a few feet away, but she ignored her bodyguard’s concerned expression and continued toward the parking lot, shaken by what Katarina had shared back in the room. Kingsley’s old protégé might not want her sympathy, but too bad.
I was just a kid.
Her chest hurt when she remembered how the woman had whispered the words at first, like she was trying to convince herself. How many times had Ellie tried to tell herself the very same thing? Late at night, when guilt over the woman she’d sentenced to die held sleep hostage?
That had been one surprise. The way Katarina had talked about Bethany had been another. The tightness had faded from her jaw, and her eyes had softened with a warmth that Ellie had never expected to witness on that shrewd face. And the things she’d shared about her daughter, well…
