Scream For Me

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Scream For Me Page 18

by Karen Rose


  His blue eyes narrowed. “Don’t push your luck, Alex.”

  “But you’ll bring it later?”

  “Yeah, sure. Later.” He almost growled it.

  “And Riley?”

  One side of his mouth lifted. “And Riley.”

  She smiled at him. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll walk you out. This way.” He pulled her into a dark little hallway, tipped up her chin, and searched her face. “You were crying earlier. Are you really okay?”

  Alex’s cheeks heated and she had to fight the urge to tug away from his probing gaze. “I had a bad couple of moments when I was talking to the social worker. You know, when the adrenaline crashed and I wasn’t thinking clearly. But I’m okay. Really.”

  He brushed his thumb over her lower lip. Then his mouth was covering hers. A natural calm settled over her, despite the sudden pounding of her heart.

  He lifted his head just far enough to let her catch her breath. “Are we on a camera somewhere?” she asked and felt him smile against her mouth.

  “Probably. So let’s give them something to talk about.” And she forgot about the camera and even about breathing when he kissed her harder and hotter than anyone had before. Abruptly he pulled back, swallowing hard. “You should probably go now.”

  She nodded unsteadily. “I probably should. I’ll see you later.” She turned to leave and flinched. “Ouch.” She rubbed her scalp and glared at his sleeve. “That hurt.”

  He pulled a few strands of her hair from his button and kissed the top of her head. “The woman nearly gets flattened by a car and she complains about a little pulled hair.”

  She chuckled. “I’ll see you tonight. Call if you do get busy.”

  Chase was still in his office when he got back. Daniel slumped in his chair, aware of Chase’s openly curious appraisal. “Go ahead and tell me,” he said.

  “Go ahead and tell you what?” Chase’s tone held mild amusement.

  “I’m in too deep, I’m too emotionally invested, I’m moving too fast… take your pick.”

  “How fast you move in your personal life is your business, Daniel. But I’m told that when it hits you, there’s not a lot you can do about it. So are you in too deep?”

  “I have no idea. Right now I just want to keep her alive.” Feeling lower than dirt, Daniel laid the hairs from Alex’s head next to the hair swatch. “Damn. They’re close.”

  Chase sat in one of Daniel’s chairs. “What did you tell her?”

  Daniel scowled at him. “I didn’t.”

  Chase’s eyed widened. “You just yanked it?”

  “Not exactly. I used a little more finesse than that.” And if she found out, she’d be more hurt than just a stinging scalp. But he’d cross that bridge when he got there.

  Chase’s shrug was restless. “You’ll find a way to tell her the truth when you have to. For now, like you said, let’s focus on keeping her alive by finding the guy who’s killed two women and copied a thirteen-year-old crime scene. I want to know why he’s doing this now. Is it just the publicity Dutton’s gotten in the last week?”

  I’ll see you in hell, Simon. Daniel bit his lower lip and knew he had to speak the truth. “It has something to do with Simon.”

  Chase narrowed his eyes. “I don’t think I want to hear this, do I?”

  “No. But it might make a difference.” He told Chase about the letters Bailey’s brother had written and the visit from the army chaplain. I’ll see you in hell, Simon.

  Chase frowned. “How long have you known about this, Daniel?”

  Ten years. No, not true. Those pictures might have nothing to do with any of the murders, thirteen years ago or this week. You’re lying to yourself. “Since last night,” he said. “How Simon and Wade connect to these two murders, I don’t know.”

  Tell him. But as soon as he did, he’d be off the case. He didn’t want to take the risk, so he told the only truth he absolutely knew. “I do know that Simon did not kill Janet or Claudia. Nor did he abduct Bailey or try to kill Alex.”

  Chase blew out a breath. “Hell. I’m gonna give you some rope. Don’t hang yourself.”

  Relief was a palpable thing. “I’m going to the Barneses’ condo. Their parking attendant told Mr. Barnes he saw Claudia’s Mercedes leave the garage last night, but she never came back. Maybe he ambushed her in the parking garage.”

  “What about Janet Bowie’s car?”

  “No hits on the APB. Leigh checked Janet’s credit card and found the company that rented her the minivan she drove to Fun-N-Sun on Thursday. She never brought it back. She dropped the kids at the school at seven-fifteen and called her boyfriend at eight-oh-six.”

  “So there’s only a fifty-minute window of opportunity for the killer to abduct her. Where was she when he abducted her?”

  Daniel sifted through the faxes Leigh had left on his desk while they’d been at the press conference. “Here’s something from the cell phone company. I had them triangulate the call Janet made to Lamar. She called him from a parking lot about a mile from the rental car place, which is about a thirty-minute drive from the school.”

  “That leaves twenty minutes for him to grab her. So where and how? And where is the minivan? Did he dump it? Hide it?”

  “And where is Janet’s car?” Daniel mused. “Did she leave it at the rental place when she picked up the van? Was the van delivered somewhere else? I’ll call and find out.”

  Chase stood up and stretched. “I need some coffee. You want some?”

  “Yeah, thanks. I’m running on only about an hour’s sleep.” Daniel looked up the number for the rental place, talked to the manager, and was hanging up when Chase came back with coffee and bags of cookies from the vending machine.

  “Oatmeal or chocolate chip?” he asked.

  “Chocolate.” Daniel caught the bag and tore it open with a grimace. “I have Luke’s mama’s leftovers in my fridge but I keep forgetting to bring them in.”

  “We could steal Luke’s lunch.”

  “He already ate it. Okay. Janet left her Z- 4 in front of the rental place early Thursday and when they came in on Friday morning it was gone. They’ve got a security camera on the parking lot. I’ll stop by and get the tapes for Thursday night into Friday morning.”

  “Check out the area the wireless company pinpointed, too. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find there was a security camera wherever he grabbed her.”

  “I will.” He munched the cookie, thinking. “Janet calls her boyfriend, most likely under duress. Today Bailey calls to say she’s skipped town and abandoned her child.”

  “Can Alex identify Bailey’s voice once we get that message from Social Services?”

  “She hasn’t talked to Bailey in five years, so I doubt it. I’ll check with the salon where Bailey worked. They’re most familiar with her voice.”

  “It’s not looking good for Bailey,” Chase said. “She’s been gone five days now.”

  “I know. But she’s the connection. Hopefully Ed will find something at her house. I called the army chaplain who visited yesterday, but I haven’t heard back from him.”

  “You’re not gonna get anything out of the chaplain and you know it. Focus on getting something out of the little girl. Get her in to see Mary McCrady. If this kid has seen something, the sooner we pry it out of her the better.”

  Daniel winced. Mary was their department psychologist. “It’s not like the kid’s a splinter or something, Chase.”

  Chase rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean. Sensitize it up for Fallon, but I want the kid in Mary’s office tomorrow morning.” He went to the door, then turned, troubled. “When I heard what happened up in Philly, I thought whatever demons have been driving you ever since I’ve known you were finally dead. But they’re not, are they?”

  Slowly Daniel shook his head. “No.”

  “Have I given you enough rope to at least hog-tie ’em?”

  Daniel chuckled in spite of himself. “Either that, or I’ll hang myself trying.�
��

  Chase didn’t smile. “I won’t let you hang yourself. I don’t know what you think you have to prove, but you’re a good agent and I won’t let you sacrifice your career.” Then he was gone, leaving Daniel with a pile of paper and a few strands of Alex Fallon’s hair.

  Get busy, Vartanian. The demons have a head start.

  Chapter Ten

  Tuesday, January 30, 3:45 p.m.

  Bailey.” Beardsley’s voice was muffled. “Bailey, are you there?”

  Bailey opened one eye, then closed it again when the room spun wildly. “I’m here.”

  “Are you all right?”

  A sob tore free. “No.”

  “What did he do to you?”

  “Injection,” she said, trying not to let her teeth chatter. She was shaking so hard she thought her bones would pop out of her skin. “Smack.”

  There was silence, then a muted “Dear God.”

  He knew then, she thought. “I worked so hard to kick it… the first time.”

  “I know. Wade told me. You’ll get out of here and you’ll kick it again.”

  No, Bailey thought. I’m too tired to go through that again.

  “Bailey?” Beardsley’s whisper was urgent. “You still with me? I need to keep your mind clear. I may have a way out of here. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.” But she knew it was useless. I’ll never leave. Five years she’d fought the demons every day. Feed me, feed me. Just a taste to get you going. But she’d resisted. For Hope. For herself. And with one push of a syringe, he’d destroyed it all.

  Tuesday, January 30, 3:45 p.m.

  The phone on his desk was ringing. He ignored it, staring at the newest letter. Of course I’m the one he calls. This was worse than he’d ever thought possible.

  The phone on his desk stilled and his cell phone immediately began to trill. Furious, he grabbed it. “What,” he snarled. “What the hell do you want?”

  “I got another one.” He was breathless, terrified.

  “I know.”

  “They want a hundred grand. I don’t have that much. You have to loan it to me.”

  The photocopied page had come with instructions on how to deposit the funds. It was crunched by his own hands, his knee-jerk reaction at what seemed like an innocent page of pictures, but in reality was obscene. “What else did you get?”

  “A page with yearbook pictures. Janet’s and Claudia’s. Did you get one?”

  “Yeah.” A page of photos cut from their yearbook and pasted in alphabetical order. Ten girls in all. With Xs through Janet’s and Claudia’s faces. “Kate’s picture’s there,” he said hoarsely. My baby sister.

  “I know. What am I going to do?”

  What am I going to do. That phrase summed up Rhett Porter. For God’s sake, Kate’s picture was on that page and Rhett was only worried about himself. Selfish, whiny little prick. “Did you get anything else?” he asked.

  “No. Why?” Panic hitched Rhett’s voice up a half octave. “What else did you get?”

  As if Kate’s picture weren’t enough. “Nothing.” But he couldn’t keep the contempt from his voice.

  “Dammit, tell me.” Rhett was sobbing now.

  “Don’t call me anymore.” He flipped his phone shut. Immediately it began to trill again. He turned it off, then threw it as hard as could against the wall.

  He pulled an old ashtray from his desk drawer. Nobody was allowed to smoke in his office anymore, but the ashtray had been a Father’s Day present from his son, made clumsily by five-year-old hands. It was a treasure he’d never throw away. His family was everything. They must be protected, at all costs. They could never know.

  You’re a coward. You have to say something. You have to warn these women.

  But he wouldn’t. Because if he warned them, he’d have to tell how he knew and he wasn’t willing to do that. He flicked his lighter and touched the flame to the corner of the photocopy. It burned slowly, curling on itself until he could no longer see the picture of his own sister, circled for emphasis. Kate had graduated the same year as Janet Bowie and Claudia Silva Barnes. The threat was clear. Pay up or Kate would be next.

  The last picture to burn was the eleventh, the one only his paper apparently had. He stared as Rhett Porter’s face melted, then burned to ash.

  Rhett. You dumb fuck. You’re a dead man because you couldn’t keep your damn mouth shut. When the photocopy was fully burned, he dumped the ashes in the coffee he’d left untouched from the morning. He stood up, smoothed his tie.

  I, on the other hand, can be taught. He carefully folded the instructions for the required bank deposit and slipped them into his wallet. He knew a guy who could do a bank transfer and keep his mouth shut. He wiped the dust from the ashtray with a tissue, then carefully placed the ashtray back in his drawer. He had to get to the bank.

  Dutton, Tuesday, January 30, 5:45 p.m.

  Oh, God. Alex. Daniel’s heart started to race as pulled into the street to Bailey Crighton’s house. An ambulance was parked on the curb, its lights flashing.

  He ran to the ambulance. Alex sat inside in the back, her head between her knees.

  He forced his voice to be calm even though his heart was stuck in his throat. “Hey.”

  She looked up, pale. “It’s just a house,” she hissed. “Why can’t I get over this?”

  “What happened?”

  The paramedic appeared from the other side of the rig. “She had a garden-variety panic attack,” he said, condescension in his tone. Alex’s chin shot up and she glared. But she said nothing and the paramedic made no apology.

  Daniel put his arm around her. “What exactly happened, honey?” he murmured, glancing at the paramedic’s badge. P. Bledsoe. He vaguely recalled the family.

  Alex leaned against him. “I tried to go in. I got to the front porch and I got sick.”

  Bledsoe shrugged. “We checked her out. She had a slightly elevated BP, but nothing out of range. Maybe she just needs some tranquilizers.” He said it with sarcasm and it wasn’t until Alex stiffened that Daniel understood what the man had meant.

  Sonofabitch. Daniel stood, fury hazing the edges of his vision. “Excuse me?”

  Alex grabbed his jacket between her fingertips. “Daniel, please.”

  But there was shame in her voice and his temper blew. “No. That was inexcusable.”

  Bledsoe blinked innocently. “I was just suggesting that Miss Tremaine calm down.”

  Daniel’s eyes narrowed. “Like hell you were. Plan on filling out about fifty forms, buddy, because your supervisor’s going to hear about this.”

  The color rose in Bledsoe’s cheeks. “I really didn’t mean any harm.”

  “Tell it to your supervisor.” Daniel lifted Alex’s chin. “Can you walk?”

  She looked away. “Yeah.”

  “Then let’s go. You can sit in my car.” She was quiet until they got to his car. He opened the front passenger door, but she pulled back when he tried to guide her in.

  “You shouldn’t have said anything. I don’t need to make more enemies in this town.”

  “Nobody should talk to you like that, Alex.”

  Her mouth twisted. “Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think it’s humiliating enough that I can’t even walk into that place?” Her voice became cool. “But what he intimated is true. I did swallow a bottleful of tranquilizers and nearly offed myself.”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Of course it’s not the point. The point is that I need the people in this town until I find out what happened to Bailey. Long term, I don’t care. It’s not like I plan to live here.”

  Daniel blinked, for the first time considering that at some point she’d return to the life she’d dropped so abruptly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think about it that way.”

  Her shoulders sagged, the cool façade vanishing. “And I’m sorry. You were trying to help. Let’s just forget it.” She bent to get into his car and her face relaxed. “Riley.”

&nbs
p; Riley sat behind the wheel, alert and sniffing. “He likes the car,” Daniel said.

  “I can see that. Hey, Riley.” Scratching Riley’s ears, she looked through the driver’s window to Bailey’s house. “A grown woman shouldn’t be afraid of a house.”

  “You want to try again?” Daniel asked.

  “Yes.” She backed out of the car and Riley stepped over the gearshift, following her to the passenger seat. Her expression was severe. “Don’t let me run. Make me go in.”

  “Ed won’t like it if you throw up on his crime scene,” he said mildly, taking her arm and slamming the car door in Riley’s face.

  She huffed a chuckle. “If I turn green, run.” But the chuckle disappeared as they neared the house. Her step slowed and her body trembled. This was a real physical reaction, Daniel realized.

  “PTSD,” he murmured. Post-traumatic stress disorder. She had all the signs.

  “I figured that out on my own,” she muttered. “Don’t let me run. Promise me.”

  “I promise. I’ll be right behind you.” He lightly pushed her up the front porch stairs.

  “I got this far before.” She said it between her teeth. Her face had grown very pale.

  “I wasn’t with you before,” he said. She leaned back at the open front door and Daniel gently but firmly propelled her forward. She stumbled, but he caught her, keeping her upright. Her body was shaking now and he could hear her muttering to herself.

  “Quiet, quiet.”

  “The screams?” he asked and she nodded. He looked over her shoulder. Her arms were crossed tight over her chest, her face was clenched, her eyes closed tight. Her lips moved in a silent mantra of “Quiet, quiet.” Daniel slipped his arms around her waist and held her to him. “You’re doing great. You’re in the living room, Alex.”

  She only nodded, her eyes still clenched shut. “Tell me what’s here.”

  Daniel puffed out a breath. “Well, it’s a mess. There’s garbage on the floor.”

  “I can smell it.”

  “And there’s an old mattress on the floor, too. No sheet. The mattress is stained.”

  “With blood?” she asked through her teeth.

 

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