by Karen Rose
“I may never know. I don’t plan to beg him for an answer.”
“Have you seen him?”
She tensed. “No.”
“I’ll go with you,” he said. She relaxed, and he knew she’d been afraid to go alone.
“Bailey thinks he and Wade forced me to take the pills, based on some things Wade said back then, but we have nothing definitive.”
“Bailey’s awake?”
She nodded. “I’ve been hospital-room-hopping,” she said with a little smile. “You and Bailey and Beardsley and Hatton and the girl Bailey saved. Bailey said that the one thing she did remember about the night Alicia died is that Alicia put something in my soup at lunch to make me sick. She knew she was going to a party that night and she didn’t want me tagging along. She was still mad at me about the tattoo and telling the teachers about our switching for tests. Her being pissed probably saved my life.”
He tightened his hold on her hand. “Hope?”
“She knows Bailey is alive, but hasn’t seen her yet. Bailey still looks bad. Daniel, Granville injected Bailey with heroin to get her to talk.” Alex’s voice trembled. “She’d been clean for five years. Now she has to go through all that again. He was a doctor.”
“He was a cruel bastard.” Daniel forced out the words.
She sighed. “That, too. Bailey was having an affair with Garth, but it’s not clear if he knew Manfield and Granville had kidnapped her or not. Like I said, Garth has lawyered up. Luke’s been trying to question him, but so far Garth’s not talking. That’s pretty much it.”
“Suze?”
“She’s still here. She’s been sitting with you and Jane Doe.” When he lifted a brow, she added, “The girl Bailey helped. We don’t know her name. Daniel, I’ve been thinking.”
A wave of dread filled him. Then he brushed it away. She might leave eventually, but she wouldn’t leave him now. Of that he was confident. “About?”
“You. Me. Bailey and Hope. You’re going to be fine when you get out, but Bailey… she’s got a long road to walk. She’ll need help with Hope.”
“Where?” he asked.
“Here. Her friends are here. I’m not going to take her away from all that. I’m going to stay here. I’ll need to find a house for me and Bailey and Hope, but-”
“No,” he rasped. “You stay with me.”
“But I’ll need to watch Hope while Bailey goes into rehab.”
“You stay with me,” he repeated. “Hope stays with us. Bailey can live with us as long as she needs to.” He started to cough and she put a cup of water to his lips.
“Slow,” she ordered when he would have gulped. “Just a little sip.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He lay back and met her eyes. “You stay with me.”
She smiled. “Yes, sir.”
He didn’t drop his gaze. “I meant what I said, back there.”
She didn’t falter. “So did I.”
He breathed out a sigh of relief. “Good.”
She pressed her lips to his forehead. “Now you know everything you need to know. Stop talking and go to sleep. I’ll be back later.”
Atlanta, Saturday, February 3, 12:30 p.m.
“Bailey.”
Her eyelids fluttered at the familiar voice and her heart sank. She was back there. Getting away had been just a dream. Then she felt the softness of the bed beneath her back and knew the nightmare was over. One of them anyway. Her addiction nightmare had started up all over again.
“Bailey.”
She forced her eyes open and her heart stuttered. “Beardsley.” He sat in a wheelchair next to her bed. He was clean now. Bruised, with a big gash on the side of his face, but clean. His hair was sandy brown, cut army-short. He had strong cheekbones and a sturdy jaw. His eyes were brown and warm, like she remembered. His lips were cracked, but firm and proportioned. Everything about him was firm and proportioned. “I thought you died,” she whispered.
He smiled. “No. I’m a little tougher than that.”
She could believe that. He was truly wider than three of her. “I saw Alex.”
“Me, too. She’s been making the rounds, checking on us. You have a very strong stepsister, Bailey. And she has a strong stepsister, too.”
His compliment warmed her. “You saved my life. How can I thank you?”
He lifted his sandy brows. “We’ll come back to that later. How do you feel?”
“Like I’ve been held prisoner for a week.”
Again he smiled. “You did good, Bailey. You should be proud of yourself.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying. You don’t know what I’ve done.”
“I know what I’ve seen you do.”
She swallowed. “I’ve done terrible things.”
“You mean the drugs?”
“And other things.” Her lips curved sadly. “I am not a girl you’d take home to Mother.”
“You mean because you were a prostitute and had affairs?”
She opened her eyes, stunned. “You knew?”
“Yes. Wade told me about you before he died. He was so proud that you’d turned your life around.”
“Thank you.”
“Bailey, you aren’t understanding me. I know. I just don’t care.”
She met his warm eyes, nervous again. “What do you want from me?”
“I don’t know yet. But I want to find out. We weren’t thrown together for no reason and I want you to know that I’m not going to walk away now that that phase is done.”
She didn’t know what to say. “I have to go back into rehab.”
His brown eyes flashed anger. “And for that I’d gladly kill him again.”
“Beardsley, he…” The word stuck in her throat.
He clenched his jaw, but when he spoke, his voice was gentle. “I know that, too. Bailey, you walked through that door today on your own two feet. Don’t look back.”
She closed her eyes and felt the tears seep down her face. “I don’t even know your first name.”
He covered her hand with his. “Ryan. Captain Ryan Beardsley, U.S. Army. Ma’am.”
Her lips quivered up into a smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Ryan. Is this where we say it’s the start of a beautiful friendship?”
He smiled back. “Isn’t that the best place to start?” He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Now sleep. And don’t worry. As soon as you’re ready, they’re going to bring Hope to see you. I’d like to meet her, too, when you’re comfortable letting me.”
Atlanta, Saturday, February 3, 2:45 p.m.
“How is the girl?”
Susannah didn’t need to look to know Luke Papadopoulos was standing behind her. “She woke up for a little while, but slipped back under. I suppose it’s her way of dodging the pain for a while.”
Luke came into the little ICU room and pulled up the other chair. “Did she say anything when she woke up?”
“No. She just looked at me like I was God or something.”
“You brought her out of the woods.”
“I didn’t do anything.” She swallowed. Truer words had never been spoken.
“Susannah. You did not cause this.”
“I don’t happen to agree.”
“Talk to me.”
She turned to look at him. He had the darkest eyes she’d ever seen, blacker than night. And right now they seethed with turbulent emotion. But the rest of his face was composed. He could have been a statue for all the emotion she saw on his face. “Why?”
“Because…” He lifted a shoulder. “Because I want to know.”
One side of her mouth lifted in what she knew had been labeled a sneer by many. “You want to know what, Agent Papadopoulos?”
“Why you think this is your fault.”
“Because I knew,” she said flatly. “I knew and I said nothing.”
“What did you know?” he asked rationally.
She looked away, fixing her gaze on the girl with no name. Who’d looked at her like she was God. “I kne
w Simon was a rapist.”
“I thought Simon didn’t do any of the rapes, that he only took the pictures.”
She remembered the picture Simon showed her. “He did at least one.”
She heard Luke’s indrawn breath. “Did you tell Daniel?”
She whipped around to glare at him. “No. And neither will you.”
There was a fury within her. It boiled and bubbled and threatened to escape every day of her life. She knew what she had done, and what she had not. Daniel had seen only a glimpse of pictures in which no rapists were identifiable. She could not say the same. “I only know that if I’d said something, this might have been avoided.” She ran her hand lightly over the rail on the hospital bed. “She might not be here right now in this hospital.”
Luke was quiet for a very long time, and together they sat watching the girl breathe, thinking their own thoughts. Susannah could respect a man who knew when to respect the quiet. Finally he spoke. “I recognized one of the bodies back there.”
She turned to look at him again, stunned. “How?”
“From a case I was working eight months ago.” A muscle twitched in his cheek. “I failed to protect that girl. I failed to bring a sexual sadist that preyed on children to justice. I want another bite at the apple.”
She studied his face, the set of his mouth. She didn’t think she’d ever seen a more serious man. “Granville’s dead.”
“But there’s another. Someone who was pulling the strings. Someone who taught Granville how to be very good at his job. I want him.” He turned to meet her eyes and she nearly backed away from the power that emanated from him. “I want to throw him into hell and throw away the key.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I think you want the same thing.”
She turned back to Jane Doe, the rage inside her bubbling higher. Rage at Simon, at Granville, at this mysterious whoever… and at herself. Then, she’d done nothing. As of today, that changed. “What do you want me to do?”
“I don’t know yet. I’ll call you when I do.” He got up. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For not telling Daniel about Simon.”
She looked up at him. “Thank you for respecting my decision.”
They held each other’s eyes for a long moment. Then Luke Papadopoulos gave her a nod and walked away. Susannah turned back to the girl with no name.
And saw herself.
Atlanta, Monday, February 5, 10:45 a.m.
It had been three days since Mansfield had shot Daniel, sending the dominoes toppling. It had been three days since Alex had killed a man and watched two more die before her eyes, and it still hadn’t sunk in. Or maybe she just wasn’t sorry.
Alex was leaning toward the second one.
She pushed Daniel’s wheelchair through the doorway at the justice center into the small room where their meeting was to take place. “This is a waste of time, Daniel.”
Daniel pushed himself from the chair and walked to the table on his own two feet. He was thinner and still pale, but recovering well. He pulled her chair out, then sat next to her. “Humor me. You might not think you need closure, but I do.”
She stared at the wall. “I don’t want to see him.”
“Why?”
She moved her shoulders, uneasy. “I’ve got things to do, productive things. Like getting Bailey into rehab and getting Hope to preschool every day and finding a job.”
“All very important things,” he agreed affably. “So what’s the real reason?”
She turned to glare at him, but the tenderness in his eyes made her swallow hard. “I killed a man,” she murmured.
“You’re not feeling guilty about Mansfield.” It was more statement than question.
“No. The opposite, actually. I’m glad I killed him. I felt…”
“Powerful?” he supplied, and she nodded.
“Yeah, I guess that’s it. Like for that moment I was in charge and fixing something that had gone horribly wrong with the universe.”
“You did. But that scares you.”
“Yes, it scares me. I can’t go around shooting people, Daniel. Craig won’t talk to me and I’m going to feel helpless. I’ll wish I could shoot him, too, and I can’t.”
“Welcome to my world,” Daniel said with a wry smile. “But avoiding him isn’t the answer, honey. All avoiding the truth got you was screams and bad dreams.”
She wanted to argue, but knew he was right. Then forgot about arguing when the door opened and a guard led Craig Crighton into the room, his arms and legs shackled. The guard pushed Craig into a chair, chains jangling.
It was a full minute before Alex realized several things. She had her head down, staring at her hands, just as she’d done that day in the hospital, so many years before. No one had spoken. And there was no screaming in her mind, only bone-chilling silence. Daniel covered her hands with his and squeezed lightly, giving her the strength to lift her eyes and then her chin until she looked Craig Crighton full in the face.
He was old. Haggard. Years of drug use and living on the streets had dulled his eyes. But he stared at her just as Gary Fulmore had, and Alex realized he was seeing Alicia. Or maybe even her mother. “Craig,” she said evenly, and he jumped, startled.
“You’re not her,” he mumbled.
“No, I’m not. I know what you did,” she said, still evenly, and Craig’s eyes narrowed.
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Agent Vartanian.” Alex looked over to where a young man in a blue suit sat next to a stylish blonde in a black suit. The young man had spoken. Alex recognized the blonde as state attorney Chloe Hathaway from the times Hathaway had visited Daniel in the hospital. Alex’s assumption that the young man was Craig’s defense attorney was quickly confirmed. “What are you hoping to get from this meeting? My client has been charged with the murder of Sister Anne Chambers. Surely you aren’t expecting him to implicate himself in another murder.”
“Just to talk,” Daniel said easily. “Perhaps to clear up a few points from the past.”
“I know your client killed my mother,” Alex said, proud her voice didn’t tremble. “And while I’d like to see him punished, I know he won’t admit it. I would like to know, however, what happened next.”
“You took a bottle of pills,” Craig said coldly.
“I don’t think so,” Alex replied. “If you gave them to me, I’d like to know.”
“If he gave them to you,” Craig’s attorney said smoothly, “that would have been attempted murder. You can’t expect him to admit to that either.”
“I won’t press charges,” Alex said.
“You wouldn’t have a choice,” Chloe Hathaway said. “If Mr. Crighton tried to kill you by giving you an overdose of pills, I’d have to prosecute.”
“But you could work something out, couldn’t you, Chloe?” Daniel asked.
“Reduced charges on the nun?” Craig’s lawyer asked cagily and Alex’s temper blew.
She stood up, trembling now, but from rage. “No. Absolutely no. I will not sacrifice justice for Sister Anne just to soothe my pride.” She leaned across the table until she was eye to eye with Crighton. “You killed my mother and your son raped my sister. He tried to rape me and you never did a thing to stop him. If I did take those pills, I’m not ashamed. You took away everything I loved then. You won’t take my self-respect now.” She looked at Chloe Hathaway. “I’m sorry you were bothered to come, but we’re done.”
“Alex,” Daniel murmured. “Sit down. Please.” His large hand covered her back, tugging her until she sat back down. “Chloe?”
“Immunity on the attempted murder charge, but nothing on the nun’s murder.”
Craig’s lawyer laughed. “So this is basically a good deed? No thank you.”
Daniel was giving Craig his coldest stare. “Consider it penance for killing a nun.”
They sat in silence until Alex could bear it no longer. She stood up. “My mother
didn’t kill you when she had the chance. Call it fear or panic or mercy, the result is the same. You’re here and she’s not, because you were afraid your secret would be found out. But guess what? It would have come out sooner or later anyway. Secrets have a tendency to do that. I lost my mother, but you lost, too. You lost Bailey and Wade and your life as you knew it. I have my life. Even if your attorney manages to get you out of here someday, you’ll never get your life back. Knowing that will be enough.”
She’d walked to the door when Craig stopped her.
“You didn’t take the pills. I gave them to you.”
She turned around slowly. “How?” she asked as neutrally as she was able.
“We ground them up, put them in water. When you came to, we made you drink it.”
“We?”
“Wade and I. He didn’t want to, for what it’s worth.”
Alex walked back to the table to face him. “And the pills you put in my hand the day Kim came to take me home?” she asked, and he dropped his gaze.
“I hoped either you’d take them or Kim would find them and turn me in. That’s all.”
It was enough. “If you ever get out, you stay away from Hope and Bailey.”
He nodded once. “Take me back.”
The guard took Craig away, his lawyer following. Chloe Hathaway gave Alex an appraising look. “I wouldn’t have given him an inch on the nun. Just so you know.”
Alex smiled thinly. “Thank you for the immunity. It’s good to know the truth.” When the SA was gone, Alex turned to Daniel. “And thank you for making me come. I really did need to know.”
He stood and put his arm around her. “I know you did. I wouldn’t have cared either way, but you needed to know. Now all the secrets that were, aren’t. Let’s go home.”
Home. To Daniel’s house with its comfortable living room, the pool table and the bar with Dogs Playing Poker, and the bedroom with his big bed. It would be the first time Daniel had been home since he’d been shot, and heat spread within her at the thought of no longer sleeping in his big bed alone.
Then she remembered the state in which she’d left his house and winced. “Um, as long as we’re baring truths, I have a small confession. Hope fed Riley.”
Daniel groaned. “Where?”
“In the living room. I called Luke’s mama and she’s sending Luke’s cousin. He has his own carpet-cleaning business. It should be clean before we get back.”
