Closer Than You Think

by Karen Rose

  ‘Any new victims?’ Faith asked.

  ‘No, thank goodness.’ He put the phone and gun on his nightstand next to her purse. Then he quickly stripped her of her bra and shirt, shucked his own clothes and tugged her back to bed, wrapping his arms around her. ‘Sleep with me, Faith.’

  He murmured the invitation in a husky voice that made her shiver. She snuggled into him, resting her head on his shoulder, even though she wasn’t the least bit tired anymore. But he hadn’t slept at all, so she contented herself with petting the hair on his chest as his breathing began to even out and her mind began to quiet.

  Until the sight of his gun made her remember drawing her own gun because she’d heard voices downstairs. Dani and Greg. Who’ve been downstairs this whole time.

  She winced sharply. ‘Crap,’ she mouthed soundlessly.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked, the words more a rumble in his chest than sounds in his throat.

  ‘Just that your brother and sister were downstairs while we were . . . you know.’

  ‘Dani’s gone to the ER. She’s on shift today. Pope’s outside and Colby’s in the kitchen. Too far away to have heard anything, Greg’s sacked out on the floor in front of the TV.’ A slight hesitation followed by what sounded like an admission. ‘He had a rough morning too.’

  ‘What happened in the principal’s office, Deacon?’ she asked.

  He sighed. ‘Greg did something stupid for a really good reason. I wish he’d trusted me enough to tell me what was happening, but he was scared. He doesn’t really know me, not yet.’

  Faith remembered Greg and Dani’s argument. Greg had protected her, which was probably the stupid thing he’d done for a good reason. ‘Why doesn’t he know you?’

  ‘Because my uncle and I have never gotten along well. He’s always insisted that I leave the child-rearing to him and Aunt Tammy. I didn’t want to. I actually fought Jim for custody of Greg after Mom and Bruce died, but Jim won.’

  She patted his chest, trying to soothe him. ‘You were only eighteen years old, Deacon.’

  ‘I know. I tried for custody twice more after I joined the Bureau, but the judge considered Jim and Tammy’s two-parent household preferable to mine. But when Greg started rebelling in middle school, Jim was all in favor of sending him to live with me in Maryland.’

  ‘When Greg became an inconvenience?’

  ‘Jim wouldn’t agree, but that’s how I saw it. Greg was already out of control. He fell in with a gang and got thrown out of the school in Maryland, so Dani brought him back to Cincinnati and I came home to start over with him. But this . . . He could be in serious trouble and I don’t know what to do.’

  He sounded as lost as she had been the night before. ‘What can I do to help you, Deacon?’

  ‘Just be here,’ he murmured against her hair, and her heart melted all over again.

  ‘That I can do. Go to sleep.’ She curled into him, listening to him breathe while she eyed the phone on his nightstand, daring it to ring and disturb him.

  He’d started to snore softly when the phone defied her and rang anyway. He came awake in a smooth motion, as if he’d had lots of practice at being jerked out of sleep.

  ‘Novak.’ He listened. ‘I’ll have her there in thirty. See you there.’ Hanging up, he reluctantly got out of bed. ‘Get dressed,’ he told Faith. ‘Arianna Escobar is awake and refusing to talk to anyone but you.’

  Chapter Twenty

  Eastern Kentucky, Tuesday 4 November, 4.00 P.M.

  Corinne sank down on a tree stump, utterly exhausted. They’d walked about five hundred feet in four hours. Unfortunately, they’d walked the same hundred-foot path five different times. Roza would walk, then stop, then run back, as if tethered to the cabin’s front porch.

  Corinne was very tempted to knock her out again. It would be for the girl’s own good. It would be for my own good. They could have been far away by now. They could have been safe.

  Roza had begged to be left behind, but that had never been an option.

  I’m going to save her even if it kills us both. Corinne trudged to the porch where Roza sat on the front step, head hung dejectedly. ‘Roza, what do I have to do to get you away from here? This isn’t your home.’

  ‘I don’t know!’ Roza blurted. ‘It’s too . . . much.’

  It’s just trees. The sun. Green grass and the occasional falling leaf. The wind. Actually, it was a lot, Corinne realized. For a girl who’d never been out of that basement, this was a lot to take in in a very short time. She hunkered down, took Roza’s hands in hers.

  ‘Do you trust me, Roza?’

  ‘I’m going to get you killed. Just go. Please.’

  ‘Not without you.’

  ‘Why not?’ Roza exploded. ‘I’m no one. I’m not important. I’m nothing,’ she finished on a whisper. ‘I’m not worth it.’

  Corinne’s eyes stung. ‘You are, Firoza. You are important. You saved my best friend. You took care of me.’ She squeezed the thin hands. ‘You are worth it. Do you trust me?’

  A dejected nod.

  ‘Do you trust me enough to let me blindfold you?’

  Roza’s head shot up, eyes wide with alarm. ‘What?’

  ‘You’re experiencing something called sensory overload. Colors, sounds, smells. The wind. It’s too much. Of course you’re overwhelmed. If you let me blindfold you, it’ll be dark again. Maybe you won’t be so afraid.’

  Dark brows crunched. ‘I’ll fall down.’

  ‘I’ll pick you up. Can we try it? Please?’

  Roza hesitated. ‘Okay.’

  ‘Okay. Good.’ Using one of the knives she’d taken from the kitchen, Corinne sliced away a strip of the blanket and handed it to Roza. ‘You want to put it on yourself?’

  The girl swallowed hard. Nodded. Covered her eyes and tied the strip behind her head.

  ‘Good.’ Corinne rose, shouldered the supply bundle, slipping the knife up her sleeve where she could reach it easily. ‘Give me your hand.’

  Roza extended her hand, then her head jerked up in alarm.

  Corinne heard it too. An engine. Oh no. Oh God, no.

  ‘He’s coming, isn’t he?’ Roza asked fearfully.

  ‘We need to run. Put your arm around my neck.’

  ‘You can’t carry me.’

  ‘I will not let him have you. Do it!’ Not waiting for compliance, she grabbed Roza’s arm, looped it around her neck and started to run, heading behind the cabin, into the woods.

  Away from the road. She hit a small hill and slid down it, half dragging, half carrying Roza behind her. Her lungs about to explode, she collapsed on the ground, holding Roza down when she tried to get up, clamping her hand over the girl’s mouth when she tried to cry out.

  ‘Sshh,’ Corinne breathed. ‘He’ll hear you and kill us. Quiet. I’ve got you. You’re safe.’

  She heard the vehicle stop. A car door slam. Corinne frowned. It didn’t sound like a van at all. The motor had revved like a sports car.

  The cabin door slammed. He’d gone inside. There was a minute of silence, then the cabin door slammed again.

  A shout shattered the silence. ‘No! Goddammit! No!’ His curse had come from behind the cabin. He knew they were both gone. That the root cellar was empty.

  Roza squirmed frantically. Corinne shushed, tried to soothe. But she didn’t let her up.

  Time passed. Corinne wasn’t sure how much. Minutes? Hours? She listened, holding her breath, knife in her hand, waiting for him to come over the hill.

  Finally the car started, the engine roaring as it was gunned once, then twice, driving away in a squeal of tires that sounded like a race car out of the starting gate. She held her breath as the engine faded. He is not driving a van. Why has he changed cars? Maybe he’d dumped the van. Maybe it meant he was worried about getting caught. Either way, she’d have to be on the lookout for both a van and a sports car as she and Roza made their way to find help. She rolled off Roza, exhausted again.

  Roza pulled the blindfol
d off and used it to wipe the tears from her cheeks. ‘Is he gone?’

  ‘I think so,’ Corinne whispered. ‘Are you all right? I didn’t want to hurt you.’

  ‘I’m okay. You should have let me go. I wouldn’t have told him you were here.’

  Corinne sighed. ‘I’m tired, Roza. I can’t carry you anymore. Will you walk with me? Because if you won’t, I can’t force you to. I think I’ll just curl up and go to sleep, because that’s all the energy I have.’

  ‘But he’ll kill you.’

  Corinne hoped her bluff would fool the girl. ‘I need your help to get away.’

  Roza looked at the blindfold crumpled in her hand, then brushed her fingertips over the grass and patted it with the flat of her palm. She met Corinne’s eyes, hers wide with wonder. ‘It’s sharp and soft.’

  She’d never touched grass, Corinne thought. Or trees. Or felt the sunshine on her face. Be patient. ‘Yes, it is.’

  ‘My mama liked the snow,’ Roza said abruptly. ‘When will we have snow?’

  Be patient. But it was hard with her heart beating so hard. He could come back any minute. ‘Soon. In a few weeks.’ Corinne made herself smile. ‘We can build a snowman.’

  Roza’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Mama said we’d do that someday. If we ever got out.’ She blinked, sending the tears down her face. ‘You’ll take me to her? To my mama?’

  ‘I will. I promise.’

  Roza tied the blindfold over her forehead. ‘If I start to be afraid, I’ll pull it over my eyes.’ She grabbed Corinne’s hand and pulled her to her feet. ‘I’m ready. Let’s go.’

  Cincinnati, Ohio, Tuesday 4 November, 5.20 P.M.

  ‘No more than five minutes,’ the ICU nurse warned. ‘I’m serious, Agent Novak. I will throw you out myself if I have to.’

  Deacon nodded respectfully. ‘I believe you, ma’am. But we still have one young woman missing and so far we have very few leads. Arianna’s recollections may be our only hope of bringing Corinne Longstreet home alive.’

  Sympathy flickered in the nurse’s eyes but she held firm. ‘Arianna is my priority. When you bring Ms Longstreet in, she’ll be equally protected. Five minutes. Follow me, please.’

  The uniformed officer standing outside Arianna’s room checked their IDs against the printed list he’d been given by Isenberg’s office. Deacon looked through the small window in the door. An older man and a young woman sat next to Arianna’s bed, blocking his view of the patient. ‘Who are they?’

  ‘Lauren Goodwin and her father,’ Bishop said. ‘The Goodwins are Arianna’s foster family. Lauren and Arianna room together at King’s. They’ve been friends since high school. She filed the missing person report on Arianna yesterday.’

  ‘Why didn’t she report Arianna missing on Friday when she didn’t come back from the library?’ Faith asked.

  ‘At first she thought Arianna had gone away for the weekend with Corinne,’ Bishop answered, ‘but then she saw Corinne’s car was still parked in the student lot and reported them both missing. King’s College security didn’t believe her. It was Halloween weekend. They figured that Arianna was partying. Lauren enlisted the help of her father, who finally got the security people to look at the tapes. Arianna and Corinne are seen leaving the library and walking along the path. They enter the area where the camera had been stolen and aren’t seen on any cameras anywhere on the campus afterward.’

  Bishop pushed the door open and Lauren and her father immediately rose. Mr Goodwin took one look at Deacon and flinched. ‘Who the hell are you?’ he demanded.

  ‘This is Special Agent Novak, Mr Goodwin,’ Bishop said. ‘He’s my partner.’

  Goodwin glared. ‘You expect me to believe he’s FBI?’

  Beside him, Faith bristled, but Deacon’s surreptitious squeeze of her arm had her clamping her lips shut. Deacon produced his ID calmly. ‘We need to talk to Arianna alone.’

  ‘No,’ Goodwin said, shaking his head. ‘You don’t talk to her without me.’

  ‘I’ll stay with her, Mr Goodwin,’ a female voice said from behind them. Deacon looked over his shoulder to see a woman with dark auburn hair standing in the doorway.

  ‘Who the hell are you?’ Goodwin asked belligerently.

  ‘Dr Meredith Fallon. I’m a child psychologist. I work with adolescent trauma victims. I’ve been assigned to Arianna’s case because she’s a minor. Don’t worry, I’ve done this before. I won’t let them upset her. But Corinne’s still missing. We need to hear what Arianna knows.’

  ‘And you’ve already used up one of our five minutes arguing, sir,’ Deacon said quietly.

  Lauren kissed Arianna’s forehead. ‘I’ll be back later. Come on, Dad. Let’s get some lunch.’ She paused in the doorway, giving Faith a long look. ‘You’re Faith Frye, aren’t you?’

  ‘Faith Corcoran. Until recently my last name was Frye.’

  Tears glinted in Lauren’s eyes. ‘You saved her. Thank you. But the doctors said she was unconscious when you found her. How does she know your name?’

  ‘I don’t know. I was hoping Arianna could tell us.’

  ‘Lauren,’ Bishop prodded. ‘You’re taking up time we could be talking to Arianna. Please.’

  When Lauren and her father had left, the psychologist closed the door firmly. Her assessment of Faith was shrewd and not terribly warm. ‘Please proceed, Agent Novak. I’m a silent observer – unless you ask anything not in Arianna’s best interest. I have authority to stop the interview and will not hesitate to do so.’

  Deacon and Bishop took positions on either side of the bed. Arianna’s face was pale, her lips gray. But her dark eyes were open and clear, the beeping machines indicating that she was stable.

  ‘Arianna,’ Deacon said, ‘this is Faith. You asked to see her. We need to know what happened to you and Corinne.’

  ‘Did you see your abductor?’ Bishop asked.

  ‘No. Faith, please.’ Arianna waved weakly at the chair next to the bed and Faith sat down.

  ‘How can I help you, Arianna?’ Faith asked softly. ‘Why did you ask for me?’

  ‘Because she told me to,’ Arianna rasped.

  Faith bent closer. ‘Who? Corinne?’

  Tears filled Arianna’s eyes. ‘You didn’t find Corinne?’

  ‘Not yet,’ Deacon answered. ‘But we’re still looking. Who told you to ask for Faith?’

  ‘The girl.’ Her whisper was barely audible. ‘In the basement. She helped me get away. She told me to ask for you.’

  Faith frowned up at Deacon over her shoulder before leaning over the bed rail to better hear Arianna. ‘Do you know the girl’s name?’

  ‘Roza. She said her name was Roza.’

  ‘How old was Roza?’ Deacon asked.

  ‘Not a little girl, but not a grown-up. Maybe twelve. She saved me. Helped me get away.’ Tears welled in Arianna’s dark eyes. ‘I think he might have killed her for that.’

  Bishop shot Deacon a look before easing into a crouch next to the bed. ‘Did she seem small, size-wise?’ she asked softly.

  ‘Yes. She was thin. Short. Dark hair, ragged. Big dark eyes. Middle Eastern, maybe?’

  Deacon thought of the dug-out room, the pallet on the floor. A child. Not what he’d expected to hear. ‘Was she a prisoner too?’

  ‘Not the same as me. He made her work.’ Arianna closed her eyes. ‘Made her clean me. After he . . .’ She began to tremble and the heart monitor started to beep faster. ‘He . . .’

  Dr Fallon stepped forward, her mouth opening to protest until Faith brushed Arianna’s hair from her face, her touch gentle. ‘It’s all right,’ she soothed. ‘You don’t have to tell that part. You don’t have to tell anyone.’

  Dr Fallon stepped back as Arianna’s heart rate began to stabilize once more.

  ‘You saw Roza’s face?’ Bishop asked.

  Arianna nodded. ‘She took off my blindfold at the end. Helped me get away.’

  ‘Did you see your captor’s face, too?’ Bishop asked.

  ‘
No. He was gone to the back yard when I got away. I ran.’

  ‘How did you get away, Arianna?’ Deacon asked. ‘How did Roza help?’

  ‘Earl came.’

  ‘Earl?’ Dr Fallon asked quietly. ‘Who is Earl?’

  ‘Earl Power and Light,’ Faith said. ‘I called them to turn on the electricity. I didn’t know you were there, Arianna. I’m so sorry.’

  ‘I know,’ Arianna whispered. ‘He said nobody could hear us scream.’

  Faith stiffened but didn’t confess that she’d heard Arianna scream on Sunday afternoon, which Deacon thought was best for everyone all around.

  ‘He got mad when Earl came,’ Arianna continued. ‘He ran outside. Didn’t lock the door at the top of the stairs. Roza helped me get away. Do you know her? Can you find her?’

  ‘I don’t know anyone named Roza,’ Faith said. ‘Did she say why you should ask for me?’

  Arianna opened her eyes, held Faith’s gaze. ‘Because he’s afraid of you.’

  Faith let out a strangled breath. ‘Do I know him, Arianna? Did he say he knew me?’

  ‘No. He didn’t say your name to me. Just to Roza.’

  ‘How did you get the truck?’ Bishop asked.

  ‘He was fighting with the Earl man. He shot him. I didn’t wait. I didn’t try to help the Earl man. I ran to the truck. I took it.’ New tears welled, fell. ‘But I crashed it. I’m sorry.’

  Faith stroked the girl’s forehead. ‘Nobody’s mad at you, Arianna. You did the right thing. You got away. Now we know to look for Corinne and Roza.’

  ‘Find her. Please. Corinne needs her medicine.’

  ‘We’re looking as hard as we can,’ Bishop assured her. ‘But we need to ask you something else. Before the night you were . . . taken, did you notice if anyone was following you or Corinne? Were you afraid of anyone?’

  ‘No. He came out of nowhere. He grabbed Corinne and put a cloth on her face. I tried to stop him, but he shot me.’