by Karen Rose
“Daddy was,” she whispered, and the color drained from Candace’s face.
“What happened, Penny?” Meredith asked softly.
“He yelled at the pink-haired lady.” She took her hand and smashed the face of the figure she’d made, grinding her palm into the dough, ruining it.
“He did that?” Meredith asked.
Penny nodded, but then shook her head. “Not to this girl. To the other one.”
“You want us to make her?”
“No. I—I . . .”
“All right,” Meredith said. “You don’t have to do anything, sweetheart.”
Penny looked up, panicked. “I don’t know how. She was . . . sick. Skinny and sick. I don’t know how to make her.”
Candace was drawing slow, steady breaths through her nose. Meredith gave her a smile of encouragement, before turning back to Penny. “It’s all right. You’re doing great. You and your mama.” She smoothed her hand over Penny’s hair again. “Did the sick, skinny lady say anything?”
Penny nodded. “She said no. But . . .” Her eyes closed. “They made her pray.”
Oh God, Meredith thought. Candace made a choked noise, but continued to sit like a statue. “They made her pray to God?” Meredith asked carefully. “Like in church?”
“On her knees. They kept saying that.”
Meredith drew in a breath, held it, then eased it back out. “‘They’?” she asked, with only the mildest of curiosity. Inside she was cursing Broderick Voss to a fiery hell.
“Men. My daddy’s friends. I didn’t like them. They used mean voices.”
“You heard them? Did you also see them?”
She wagged her head slowly. “No,” she said earnestly. “I was hiding under the bed. I was scared. I didn’t come out until they all went home.”
Meredith smiled, hiding her relief. “And then what happened?”
“I was hungry and Mama was gone. Just for one night,” she added quickly. “Mama didn’t leave me before that. Or after.”
“I understand,” Meredith assured her. “Your daddy? Did he leave you?”
“Lots of times,” Penny said with a shrug that Meredith was sure she intended to be careless. But it wasn’t. “He doesn’t like me.”
Candace’s eyes filled with tears, but she remained silent.
“Why do you think that, Penny?” Meredith asked her.
“I just do. He was busy. Always. He didn’t want to play or even watch TV or DVDs. He told the men that night that they had to be quiet. That I’d tell on him and then they’d never be able to have a party again. That I had a big mouth. He said I was a little . . . a bad name. Like a witch. I’m not allowed to say that name.” Her chin trembled and her eyes welled, like her mama’s. “So I didn’t want to tell. Because then . . .” She trailed off.
“Because then it would be true?” Meredith supplied and Penny nodded miserably. “Penny, if I tell you something, will you believe me?”
Penny sniffled. “Depends.”
“See? That means you are smart. And you did everything right. Can I hug you?”
Penny nodded, tears streaking down her cheeks. “I want him to like me.” A sob broke free. “Why doesn’t he like me?”
Meredith hated this part of her job—when babies grew up too damn fast. She wrapped her arms around the sobbing child. “I don’t know.”
“My daddy’s hateful!” Penny yelled. “And I hate him!”
And that was an issue for another day. Meredith pulled Penny to her lap, rocked her through it until the sobs became sniffles, then hiccups.
“I hate him,” Penny whispered.
“That’s okay.”
Penny looked up suspiciously. “I’m not s’posed to hate. The other lady said that.”
“The other therapist?”
Penny nodded. “She wasn’t nice. She didn’t have Play-Doh, either.”
“Well, that’s important, having Play-Doh.” Meredith took tissues from her bag and dried Penny’s cheeks. “You can hate, Penny. That’s okay. For a little while. Not forever.”
“Because it’s not nice,” Penny said glumly. “I know.”
“Not what I was gonna say,” Meredith chided gently. “I was gonna say that hate uses up part of your soul. That’s the thing that makes you Penny and not somebody else. Your soul is kind of like your stuffed animals. You can only fit so many on your bed, right?”
“Right,” Penny said warily.
“Are you going to waste valuable space on your bed with toys you don’t like?”
Penny considered it. “No,” she decided. “That would be dumb. I’d put the ones I don’t like in my closet, like the stuffed bear my daddy got me in Germany. It was hard like a rock. So I put it in the closet. My soul has a closet where I put the hate and mean things?”
Meredith smiled at her, then pulled her tight for a hug. “You are so very smart, Penny Voss. That is exactly right.”
“What happens when the closet fills up?”
“See, another very smart question. What do you do when your real closet fills up?”
“We give the toys to poor kids. But I don’t think other kids want all my hate.”
“Maybe you could just throw it away.”
She looked anxious. “I don’t know how.”
“That’s why I’m here. I’m going to show you how. But not today, because I think you’ve worked pretty hard today already. Now I have a few more questions to ask you, and then it’ll be time for you to take your mama home, okay?”
Penny’s little face drooped. “I’m sorry, Mama. Don’t be sad.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for, baby,” Candace said, her smile clearly forced. She held herself so rigidly that Meredith was afraid she’d shatter. “I’m so proud of you, that you are my daughter. I’m sorry you had to see all that when I wasn’t home.”
“It’s okay, Mama.” Penny let out a heavy sigh. “But I have bad dreams.”
“I know,” Candace said. “We’ll keep seeing Dr. Fallon and maybe soon you won’t.”
Penny didn’t look convinced. “Maybe,” she said with a shake of her head.
Meredith put the Facebook photo on the table. “Have you ever seen this lady?”
Penny ran her finger down the woman’s nose and over her ears. “Can I color on it?”
“Of course. You’ll have to hop off my lap so I can get the crayons.” Penny obliged and Meredith dug out her trusty Crayola-64. She bought these boxes by the case because kids loved them. She thought of Adam. Kids of all ages. She flipped the lid. “There you go.”
Penny picked a pink crayon, which was no surprise. She colored over the woman’s dark hair, then nodded. “Yes. That’s the pink-haired lady.”
“Thank you. Now, two more.” She showed her the grainy photo of Linnie.
Penny’s face fell. “That’s the sick lady who prayed. Did it make her better?”
“I hope she gets better,” Meredith said sincerely. “One more.” She showed her the photo of the big man with the dead eyes.
Penny shook her head, but shivered. “He doesn’t look nice.”
No, he does not. “But you haven’t seen him before?”
“No.” She looked up. “Can I go now?”
“Yes, Penny. You can go.”
She ran to her mother, who gathered her close. “Can we stop for hot chocolate?”
Candace kissed the top of her head. “We have to go straight home, but I will make you the best hot chocolate you have ever tasted.”
“Cookies, too?”
Candace choked on something between a sob and a laugh. “Yes. Anything else?”
Penny snuggled close. “No, Mama. That’s good. For now.”
Cincinnati, Ohio
Sunday, December 20, 7:10 p.m.
After Meredith had wrapp
ed up the session with Penny, summarized her notes for CPD’s file, and finally found some ibuprofen for her headache, she returned to the bullpen to find her grandfather and Mallory knitting with Kate.
Of course they are. “You just keep sucking people into your weird cult,” Meredith said, making herself smile past the pounding in her skull. She was starting to wonder how hard she’d actually hit her head. If the ibuprofen didn’t help she was going to have to see a doctor, and she hated the very thought of that.
Kate looked up with a grin. “You’re always welcome in our cult.”
“Look what I made,” Clarke said proudly, holding up the scarf that was his debut project. It was perfect, of course, but Meredith didn’t tell him so because the elevator dinged and her gaze swung toward the doors.
Isenberg had filled her in on both the murder of “Bruiser” and Quincy’s conclusion that Adam had been the target of the van shooting, and Meredith hadn’t breathed properly since. All she could think was that Adam was out there, working the crime scene, a sitting duck for anyone who really wanted to hurt him. But now he was back. Safe.
He, Trip, Scarlett, and Deacon walked toward them, every face grim. Isenberg came out of her office to greet them. “So?” she asked her team.
“We can’t find Linnie,” Adam said flatly. “Hanson’s got the area locked down and he’s got uniforms going door to door and checking every alley. She’s gone under.”
“Oh no,” Meredith murmured. “I hope she doesn’t freeze. She’s got to be so scared.”
“But she’s armed,” Isenberg said.
“Eyewitnesses say she shot Bruiser in self-defense,” Scarlett said, then noticed Mallory sitting there. “Hey, kid. You okay?”
Mallory nodded. “I’m not being shot at.”
Meredith ruffled her hair. “Good. That’s how it’s supposed to be.”
“You,” Isenberg said to the four cops. “Briefing room, please.” She turned to Meredith, brows arched. “You’ve seen that he’s all right. Now you can go. And Agent Coppola, that goes double for you. And triple for the dog. He’s going to shed all over the carpet.” Without another word, she walked away.
Biting back rueful smiles, Deacon and Scarlett followed.
Trip shook his head. “I don’t get that woman.”
“She’s been very nice today,” Meredith said. “I think she’s hit her quota.”
“And she’s got a rep to protect,” Kate added. “Once you achieve rank of Badass, you can’t just skate.”
“Whatever,” Trip muttered. “Why didn’t she order you into the briefing room?” he asked Kate. “I thought Zimmerman gave us to her for the case.”
“Because I’m technically on vacation. I’m just here for the knitting.” Kate glanced at Meredith. “And for her. I don’t want to trust just anyone to keep her safe.”
“Ah. Got it.” He turned to Meredith. “Just wanted to let you know that Shane and the Davises are settled. The agents with them were handpicked by Zimmerman.”
“Thank you,” Meredith said. “I’ll sleep better knowing they’re safe, too.”
Still shaking his head over Isenberg, Trip went into her office.
“I’ll just be a minute,” Adam called after Trip, then took Meredith’s elbow and led her into a small meeting room and shut the door.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, frowning.
He didn’t answer, just cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. Hard. At first, anyway. Starting as what felt like a stamp of possession, it quickly softened into something tender and so sweet it made her sigh. When he raised his head, she could only stare at him, her headache nearly forgotten.
“Nothing’s wrong,” he murmured, nuzzling her neck. “I just needed to.”
She stroked his hair, kissed his temple. “Isenberg will pull you from the case.”
“I don’t think so.” He lifted his head, his expression wry. “It wasn’t like she didn’t know from the beginning. The woman knows everything.”
Meredith caressed his face, loving the rasp of his stubble against her fingertips. “I’m glad she has your back.”
“She always has. She called to tell me that you were good with Penny Voss. Actually, she said you were ‘impressive.’ That’s high praise.”
“It was a good session.” She traced the worry lines around his mouth, not liking them at all, but understanding why they were there. “What happened to Linnie?”
“We don’t know. I wish she’d trust us, but we blew any chance of that tonight.”
“At least Kyle will have closure. The man who killed Tiffany won’t hurt anyone else.”
He kissed her forehead. “You know, I hadn’t thought of that.”
“You’ve been a little busy.”
“Too busy. I can’t take you to the safe house. How will you get back?”
“Kate’s taking me and Papa, then she’ll take Mallory home. Don’t buy her vacation routine. She’s barely slept. She’s working. She’ll recruit some help and I’ll be fine.” She frowned up at him. “I’m more worried about you. You were the target this afternoon and you can’t hide away in a safe house.”
“You know about the van.” He sighed when she nodded. “I wish you didn’t know, but know that I will be careful, I promise.”
“But why? Why would they shoot at you? They’re after me and Shane, right?”
“We think they want Shane alive, because they believe he can lead them to Linnie. It’s likely they tried to take me out so that Troy would stop. Then they could have grabbed Shane alive and . . .” He closed his eyes and shook his head.
“Killed the rest of us,” she finished quietly. “Got it. So we’re all targets. Wonderful.”
He met her eyes. “So we all have to be careful. We were lucky today. Except for Troy. He’s been admitted to the hospital. He underrepresented his injuries.”
Her eyes widened. “He lied?”
“Big-time, the asshole.” But his tone wasn’t angry. It was actually almost fond, and that made her smile. “Make sure Kate knows, okay? I don’t think he told her, either.” He pressed another hard kiss to her mouth. “Get some rest. I’ll call you when I can.”
But he didn’t let her go. He stood there staring at her with such need that she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close when he dropped his head on her shoulder. She could feel his erection, hard against her abdomen, but he wasn’t insistent. He didn’t push, didn’t thrust. This wasn’t about passion or sex. This was about comfort.
So that was what she gave him. Stroking his hair, she held him. It was just the two of them. No work, no boss, no murder.
Finally he stepped back, his eyes calmer. “Thank you. I needed that.”
She smiled up at him. “So did I.”
He cupped her chin, brushed his thumb over her lips. “You look exhausted. Get some sleep. I’ll come to you as soon as I can.”
“If I’m asleep, please wake me up.”
His lips curled, his dark eyes sparkling with something wicked. “Count on it.” He took a final kiss, smoothed his tie, then left with a wink that was so playful she laughed. He jogged to the briefing room, but she kept her pace more sedate. The kisses had been lovely, but now her head hurt again and she was starting to feel a little sick.
Kate wore an irrepressible grin and puckered her lips teasingly when Meredith got back to where she, Clarke, and Mallory waited. Until Meredith told her that Troy had been admitted to the hospital.
Kate’s grin became a scowl. “I think I need to visit my partner in the hospital and let him know that he was supposed to have informed me—his partner—that he’d been injured. I mean, it’s not like he’s my partner or anything.” Cap whined at her distress and she sighed, giving the old boy a scratch behind the ears. “It’s okay, boy. But I can’t take Cap into the hospital without all kinds of special fuss and I h
ave to get you back to the condo and then drive Mallory to Mariposa House. I’ll have to rip Troy a new one tomorrow.” She paused to stare at Meredith. “What’s wrong with you? You look . . . off.”
“I have a headache,” Meredith confessed.
Her grandfather stood, sobering quickly. “Since when?”
“Since the van this afternoon. My head hit the floor kind of hard. I figured it would go away, but it hasn’t.” She touched the back of her head. “Right here.”
“Meredith!” Clarke’s tone was scolding, but his hands were gentle as he lifted her hair away from where it hurt. “You’ve got a goose egg, all right. Dammit, girl, I thought you had sense. We could have been icing it. You should have been resting.”
“Clarke,” Kate said quietly. “Not helping.”
“You’re right.” He drew a breath and let go of Meredith’s hair. “You’re probably fine, but we’re not taking any chances. Let’s go to the ER and get you checked out.”
She turned to protest, but his jaw was hard, his eyes determined. She knew that look. It was no use arguing. She sighed. “All right, Papa.”
“I’ll tell Adam where we’re going,” Kate said, then shook her head. “No, he’ll just worry. I’ll text Isenberg and let her decide if she tells him or not.”
“Don’t I get a say in that?” Meredith asked, knowing she sounded petulant.
“No,” Kate said flatly. “He’ll just worry and then he won’t be paying attention. You want that to happen?”
“No,” Meredith muttered.
“Thought not.” Kate sent one text, then another. “That takes care of Isenberg and I just told our FBI escort—also handpicked by my boss—that we’re heading downstairs and that we have a change in plans. Mallory, you’re just gonna have to hang tight till we figure this out. I’ll get you back to Mariposa, I’m just not sure when.”
Mallory bit her lip. “I’m sorry, Kate. I should have just stayed at the house. I wouldn’t have caused you to have to make the trip back out there tonight.”
“Nonsense,” Kate said briskly. “You saw Meredith nearly killed yesterday. Today you needed to see that she was okay. And she is . . . mostly. You were all hunkered into yourself, and now you’re not. So it’s all good.” She grinned at them. “And it’s about to get even better.” She lifted her knitting bag, a larger tote than usual, and pulled out three wigs.
