Untold

by Nancy Ann Healy

  Claire looked back at the remains in the ground. “Landscaper?”

  “Maybe. I think we’ll have a better idea when we know how long he used this place.”

  “Agent Brackett? Agent Toles?”

  Claire and Alex turned around and headed toward the sound of the voice calling them.

  “What do you have?”

  The agent pointed to the ground beneath his feet. It was about eight feet away from the other bodies.

  “Son of a bitch,” Alex commented.

  “Alex? What the hell is going on?” Claire asked.

  “I don’t know,” Alex confessed. “Something tells me it all started with her.”

  ***

  Alex was stunned when Cassidy opened the door to greet her at three in the morning.

  “Cass? Are you okay?”

  Cassidy smiled. “I’m fine. Connor was up with the sniffles. I couldn’t go back to sleep. How are you?”

  Alex shook her head. “I’ve had more pleasant days.”

  Cassidy took Alex’s hand. “Come on.”

  “Where are we going?” Alex lifted her brow.

  “You are going to take a shower.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “I’ve experience more pleasant smells.”

  Alex laughed. “Thanks.”

  Cassidy winked. “Did you eat? Never mind, I already know that answer. I’ll get you something.”

  “Cass, it’s three in the morning. You don’t need to…”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “I don’t have much of an appetite,” Alex said honestly. Scenes from the day were burned into her mind. It hadn’t left her with much want of food.

  Cassidy sighed. “What about a glass of wine? It’ll help you sleep.”

  Alex nodded.

  “Do I want to guess when you’re leaving tomorrow?”

  “You’ll be glad to know, not until a little later. I have a meeting in New York at one. I have to leave here by eleven.”

  “Good. Go on. I’ll be up in a few minutes.”

  Alex climbed the stairs gingerly. Cassidy watched her and sighed. She heard Alex’s back pop in the distance and winced. I wish she would take care of herself.

  Alex peeled off her clothes and climbed into the shower. The feel of the hot water cascading over her skin instantly began to relieve the tension in her body. She closed her eyes as the steady stream washed over her. She wiped some droplets from her face and startled slightly when the shower door opened.

  Cassidy stepped in behind Alex. She wrapped her arms around Alex’s waist and pressed against her.

  “Cass?”

  “Just relax, Alex.” Cassidy reached for the shampoo and poured some in her hand. She began to massage it through Alex’s hair, working it into a lather. She heard Alex sigh. Cassidy directed Alex back under the water and rinsed the suds out. She could see the fine lines at the sides of Alex’s eyes that indicated stress. “Relax, love.”

  Alex tried to comply with Cassidy’s request. She was enjoying the feel of Cassidy’s hands as they traversed her body and the warm spray that slowly began to ease her aching muscles. She opened her eyes and looked at Cassidy.

  “Yes?” Cassidy asked.

  Alex captured Cassidy’s lips with a searing kiss.

  “Alex,” Cassidy gasped. “I wasn’t trying to seduce you.”

  Alex knew that. Cassidy’s intent had been to calm Alex. Alex couldn’t prevent her body’s reaction. Truth be told, she had no desire to. The strange thing about death was that it sometimes reminded a person about life. As Claire had driven Alex home, Alex had found herself wondering who the women they had found had been. Finding out who had taken their lives seemed secondary at that time. Who had they been? Had they loved? Had they been loved? Did they know love before someone had thought to show them evil? All those questions disappeared the moment Cassidy had opened the front door. Alex was home. All that mattered to her now was that Cassidy loved her.

  Alex brushed Cassidy’s hair out of her eyes. She turned them in the small space so that Cassidy stood under the flow of water. Alex’s licked the stream of water off Cassidy’s neck until their lips met again.

  Cassidy’s hands gripped Alex’s shoulders. She understood Alex. Alex’s touch was not lustful; it was loving. Cassidy relished the feel of Alex’s lips as they wandered over her shoulder to her breast.

  “Alex…”

  Alex’s lips began to explore Cassidy’s breasts. She felt Cassidy quiver in her arms. Slowly, Alex knelt before Cassidy. She held Cassidy securely as her kisses rained down with the hot water. Cassidy’s hands held onto Alex’s shoulders in anticipation. Alex felt no need to contain her desire. She looked up briefly just as Cassidy’s lips parted and a soft moan escaped the back of Cassidy’s throat. Alex answered the unspoken request gently as Cassidy’s fingertips dug into her flesh.

  “I’ve got you,” Alex promised, sensing Cassidy’s need to feel grounded. Her kisses descended to Cassidy’s center. Cassidy’s pleading moan nearly sent Alex over the edge. She fought to keep her touch gentle, circling Cassidy’s need repeatedly, tenderly but firmly.

  “Alex, please… Please,” Cassidy begged Alex for release.

  Alex had taken her by surprise. It was a surprise she welcomed. She’d missed Alex’s touch—missed making love with Alex. Life had been more chaotic than normal. Cassidy had been feeling bottled up emotionally, tending the needs of everyone in the family, and desperately wanting an escape. Perhaps, they both needed that now—an escape into each other.

  Alex wrapped one arm around Cassidy protectively, and dropped the other so her fingers could gently move inside her wife.

  “Oh, God, Alex…”

  Alex felt Cassidy’s quivering shift almost immediately to violent shaking. Cassidy’s cry of pleasure was Alex’s undoing. She felt a series of soft tremors erupt in her core. She pulled away slowly, whispering Cassidy’s name. Alex’s arms wrapped around Cassidy’s waist and her head fell against Cassidy’s stomach. “Cass,” Alex choked on the name as she began to cry.

  Cassidy ran her fingers through Alex’s wet hair. She managed to turn off the shower without breaking their connection. She carefully guided Alex to her feet, reached outside the door, and wrapped Alex in a towel. “Come on, love.”

  Cassidy helped Alex get dry and dressed before doing the same. She led Alex to their bed and pulled Alex into her embrace. “Let it out,” Cassidy encouraged.

  Alex continued to cry. She was sure that people would be surprised by the strength of Cassidy’s arms as Cassidy rocked her gently.

  “I’m sorry, Cass.”

  “Sorry? For feeling? Alex, never be sorry for that. You don’t have to pretend to feel anything here. You know that.”

  “Sometimes, Cass I find it hard to understand the world.”

  “Sometimes the world is hard to understand,” Cassidy pointed out.

  “There is evil in the world,” Alex whispered.

  Cassidy pulled Alex a little closer.

  “People don’t want to believe that—there is. Not everyone is broken,” Alex continued. “Sometimes they’re just evil.”

  Cassidy made no reply. She kissed Alex on the head and held her.

  “You don’t believe that,” Alex guessed.

  “That there is evil?”

  “Yeah.”

  Cassidy took a deep breath. “That would make life a bit easier; wouldn’t it?”

  “What do you mean?” Alex wondered.

  “I mean that if something is just evil, there isn’t much you can do to change it.”

  “You have to stop it,” Alex said.

  “But can you, Alex? If it’s evil, can you stop it? You can stop an action. You can’t kill evil. You can’t make it something else.”

  “You can kill it,” Alex said tacitly.

  “No, you can only kill its hand,” Cassidy disagreed.

  “You think I’m wrong.”

  “No. I think there is evil.”

  “Yo
u do?”

  “Yes, I do. I just don’t think people are inherently evil.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “Doesn’t it? What can a person do if they are born evil? Do they have any choice in that, Alex? Do we have any chance to change that?”

  Alex sighed.

  “I’m just saying that maybe people can do evil without being evil.”

  “Because they are broken.”

  “Maybe,” Cassidy said. “I don’t know. I don’t have the answers, Alex. It seems like I have more questions each day that passes. About the only thing I do know is that people are responsible for all the good things and all the horrors in the world. I don’t know that I believe anyone is a saint or anyone a is demon. I have to believe that we can change things—that people can change. Without that? I’m not sure what’s left.”

  “I wish I could see it that way. What I saw today goes so far beyond broken. It’s just…. Evil.”

  Cassidy ran her fingers over Alex’s back. She wished she could banish the visions Alex wrestled with. “Go to sleep,” Cassidy kissed Alex’s temple. “No more talk about evil. Think about the good stuff.”

  Alex grinned.

  “What’s that about?”

  “Showers,” Alex yawned.

  Cassidy chuckled. Oh, Alex. I love you so much.

  ***

  “You all right?” Alex looked at Claire.

  Claire kept her eyes focused on the door at the end of the corridor. “Yeah.”

  Alex stopped abruptly, grabbed Claire’s arm and pulled her into a smaller room.

  “What the hell?” Claire asked.

  “You need a clear head for this meeting.”

  “I told you; I’m fine.”

  “Bullshit,” Alex disagreed. “You know that Hawk will be in that room and it’s playing with your head.”

  Claire stared at Alex without comment.

  “Claire?”

  “Let’s just get through this meeting.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “No. I need you on point in there.”

  “You think I’m incapable of being professional?” Claire bit.

  “No, I think you love Hawk, and I think you’re afraid to face her.”

  “Work is work.”

  Alex shook her head. “Not always.”

  “Are we still talking about me?”

  “Yes,” Alex replied. “But, I’d be the first to admit that keeping a professional distance isn’t always possible.”

  Claire nodded. Alex had met Cassidy while assigned to investigate a case involving the former school teacher, and as an added layer of protection. “Not the same.”

  “I think it is in a lot of ways.”

  “I can handle it.”

  “I know you can handle it,” Alex said.

  “Then why are we standing here?”

  “Because I need you to be focused on this case, and you can’t focus if you are worried about running into Hawk constantly. You need to settle things.”

  “I think they were pretty well settled when I refused her proposal.”

  Alex sighed. “I think you underestimate Hawk.”

  “Since when do you care about my personal life? You can relax, Toles. I promise; I won’t let my personal life fuck up this case.”

  Alex took a second to consider her response. “I care because you’re my partner.”

  “And, I might just slip and hurt our chances of…”

  “No,” Alex interrupted Claire. “Jesus, Claire, come on. Give me a break, here.”

  “Hawk’s your friend, I get it.”

  “Yeah, she is. You’re my partner. You don’t think I care about you? We have got to move past this.”

  “This?”

  “Just talk to Hawk.”

  “I don’t think this is the time or place.”

  “I agree. So, pull her aside, make a time and pick the place. Face it. For once, Claire give yourself a chance.”

  Claire scoffed at the idea. “You think I should marry Hawk?”

  “I think you should tell Hawk the truth—all of it, no matter how much you don’t want to. That’s what I think. I think you need to stop running.”

  Claire shook her head and opened the door. “Noted. Now, can we go, please?”

  Alex sighed and nodded. Impossible. She’s impossible.

  ***

  “Agent Toles, you have the floor,” Assistant Director Bower introduced Alex.

  “Here’s what we know: As of yesterday, we have eleven victims. We now believe that all eleven were murdered by the same person. All but two victims were found buried naked. As you can imagine, the lack of evidence available has made this case challenging. Last week, some pertinent information regarding two theories we were working leaked to the press. Two days later, I received a letter at my home from someone posing as the killer.”

  “Posing?” Agent Eaves asked. “You don’t believe it was?”

  “After our discovery yesterday, yes; we do believe the letter was from the killer.”

  “And, what did the letter say?”

  “It was a rhyme,” Alex replied. “A rhyme with a clue. You each have a basic profile in front of you. Agent Brackett and I spent several hours with the owner of the property where the latest victims were found. As of now, her recollection of people and companies employed to care for the property is our best hope of developing a solid lead.”

  “Nothing on the letter?” another agent asked.

  “The letter was tested for DNA and was negative. He must have sealed it with a sponge. Prints have been lifted, but my best guess is that we will find the postal service, myself and my wife’s prints—nothing from our killer. He’s too smart for that. Agent Brackett…”

  Claire nodded to the group. “The prose in the letter is being analyzed by psych. The best lead from the letter Agent Toles received is the postmark. And, that’s daunting to run down. Where it was picked up might hold the key. There is a team working that as we speak. It was postmarked from New Haven, Connecticut. The question is whether it was retrieved at a residence, business, dropped in a box or at one of the local offices. That will take time to uncover. Best case scenario; someone saw something. That’s a longshot, though.”

  “Your brief mentions something about the victims found yesterday,” another voice commented.

  Alex nodded. “Identifications are underway,” she said. “As I said, only two victims were found with any clothing. Kaylee Peters and one of the seven we discovered yesterday. She was buried some distance from the other six. There are traces of fabric still with the remains. Hopefully, those will hold some clues. The identities will either confirm the theory Agent Brackett and I have been working that this killer is on the prowl from New York State down through Connecticut or it will upend that. For now, we will continue to concentrate on that area and will expand that circle as needed.”

  “And, you believe he is still active?”

  “We do. That’s why I believe we need to refocus our efforts in Ashland–Pinnacle. The presence and focus here in Connecticut will force him to find another place to bury his victims,” Alex explained.

  “What makes you think he will bury them?”

  Claire spoke up. “It’s a compulsion,” she said. “We have reason to think he may visit.”

  “Are we surveying those areas?”

  Alex shook her head. “The areas are broad, we’re talking hundreds of acres.”

  “We have one other potential piece of evidence,” Claire said.

  “Care to share?”

  “Some soda cans,” Claire said.

  “Soda cans?”

  “Yeah,” Claire replied abruptly. “You know, cans that you drink soda from.”

  Alex couldn’t help but chuckle. In this case, Claire’s frustration was well-placed. She stepped in. “We recovered some potential evidence from a pond about three quarters of a mile from where Melissa Evans and Darla Maynard were found. DNA was compromised i
n almost every case, save a few cans. That could be good news.”

  A young agent spoke. “Could be?”

  Claire’s frustration was growing. In her view, this was time wasted—apprising desk wonks and rookies about facts in a case they should be out actively investigating and supervising. “Right. Could be,” Claire said. “Unless there is a match to the DNA in the database, it doesn’t provide a lead.”

  “How is that good?” the agent pushed back.

  Alex noted the vein in Claire’s neck popping out. She had no intention of reigning in her partner. Whoever this young agent was, he reminded Alex of a young Claire Brackett—brash, cocky, and annoying. She would enjoy watching Claire eviscerate him. Claire’s smug smile made Alex laugh inwardly.

  “Agent,” Claire leaned over the table. “What was your name again?”

  “Robbins,” he said.

  “Right, Robbins,” Claire sat back. “Well, Agent Robbins, let me explain how it works.”

  Alex exchanged a smirk with Hawk in the distance. Things changed sometimes. At the moment, Alex was immensely proud and pleased with her partner. Educating a snot-nosed rookie was filling time that could be far better served.

  “At the FBI, we get assigned a case because either a crime has been committed or someone suspects a crime is being, has been or will be committed.”

  “I’m aware of what we do,” Robbins replied flatly.

  “Are you? Apparently not,” Claire continued. “The way we investigate a case is to collect evidence.” She saw the rookie begin to speak and held up her hand. “That might be as boring as listening to an old lady talk about her lawn service. It might be something as mundane as a soda can. We collect it and hope it does one of two things: leads us toward a conclusion or leads us to the criminal. That’s what we do.”

  “Thanks for the handbook. I don’t see what that has to do with your statement,” he countered.

  Claire looked at Alex and raised her brow. Alex offered the rookie a sickly, sweet smile. “The can might not lead us to the killer. When we do find our suspect; it may confirm who he is.”

  “Long shot,” Robbins replied with a chuckle.

  “Long shots are sometimes the best shot we have,” Alex replied dryly.