by Mary Head
Tears filled her eyes as she stared at it, and she swallowed hard against the ache in her throat. She didn’t remember what they were doing when the picture was taken, though presumably they were waiting for something, but she hated the thought that Eddie had been close enough to take this picture of them, hated that they had not only violated her privacy, but that of her friends as well.
“Is he?” Eddie asked again.
“He’s my friend,” Hannah whispered, unable to keep the tremor from her voice as her eyebrows knitted together.
“Ever been more than that? Because I watched long enough, and I can almost guarantee that this boy wants to fuck you.”
Hannah sniffled, her lips pressed together as she looked away, and Eddie shook his head.
“No,” he breathed. “No, I bet you’re one of those good girls.”
The picture fluttered to the floor and he lifted his hand to her face, forcing her to look at him as he shifted closer and further closed the gap between them, his body mere inches from hers. The smell of cigarettes and coffee was strong, mixed with an underlying aroma of stale sweat, and she fought the urge to gag. She didn’t know which nauseated her more, his scent or his proximity.
“Is that it? You a good girl? Don’t let the boys get too close or touch that pretty little body of yours, you little cocktease?”
“Shut up!” Hannah snapped suddenly, raising her hands and shoving him hard so that he stumbled back. “You’re disgusting,” she spat, stepping away from the wall and trying to put some distance between them. He lunged towards her, grabbing her arm and roughly yanking her to him, but she jerked from his grip and slapped him hard across the face.
“Don’t touch –”
The back of his hand hard on her cheek cut her sentence short, and she cried out as she stumbled to the side. Before she could recover, he grabbed her arm again, wrenching her upright and then spinning her to force her against the wall.
A whimper slipped from her when he twisted her arm behind her back, and his free hand came up to press her other arm to the wall, pinning her with his chest to her back.
“Maybe you’ve just been waiting for a real man,” he said in a low voice close to her ear, pressing against her and forcing a quiet sob from her. “Someone who doesn’t stop just because you change your mind every two seconds about what you want.”
“Get –” Hannah began, and Eddie stepped back, yanking her from the wall and pushing her down onto the mattress.
“Stay away from me,” she said in a shaky voice as he stepped towards her, tears rolling unchecked down her face as she shifted back, hating that she was trapped between him and the wall. Fear was consuming her, choking her, but she pulled her legs in closer, fully prepared to fight him if she had to.
Her foot shot out when he crouched down in front of her, catching him in his chest and making him grunt as he rocked back on his heels. She went to kick him again, but he was ready for her and grabbed both of her ankles, gripping them tight and holding them against the mattress as she squirmed, trying to pull them from his grip. He shifted forward, placing his knees on either side of her legs, and his hands slid to her knees as he moved up her body, pressing down hard as she continued to try to pull away.
Her hand flew up from the side when he drew closer, her palm connecting with his cheek in another slap that sounded unnaturally loud in the small basement and was hard enough to turn his head to the side.
There was a tense beat, and then he yanked on her legs, pulling her so that she was lying down before he grabbed her arms, leaning forward and pinning her hands to the mattress.
“Just wait,” he murmured, staring intently at her face. His grip tightened as she struggled against him, and her mouth fell open slightly, her eyebrows knitting together. “There will come a time when you won’t be able to fight me, and we’ll see how smart you are then.”
“I will always fight you,” Hannah promised through gritted teeth, hatred coursing through her.
Eddie smirked. “We’ll see.”
He released her arms and pushed to his feet, moving to snatch the picture from the floor before leaving the basement without a backward glance, slamming and locking the door behind him.
Hannah sat up and scooted back on the mattress, pressing her back to the wall and pulling her knees to her chest. She stared straight ahead, angry tears stinging her eyes until she picked up the pillow he had brought down and threw it across the room with an enraged shriek.
Running trembling fingers through her hair, she held her head in her hands and tried to think of something to distract her. Thoughts flowed through her mind of her dad and Juliet, Chris and Madison, Harry and John, everybody in her life that she knew cared for her, people she missed and wanted so badly to see again.
A shaky sigh escaped her, and she shifted, the pain in her hip forcing her to straighten her legs. Something crinkled as she moved, and she frowned, shifting again to dip her hand into her pocket. Her fingers brushed against a piece of paper, and her frown deepened as she pulled it out and unfolded it.
A small smile curved her lips when she realized what it was, and she ran her fingers over Eli’s name and number. His handwriting was just as scratchy and messy as that of any other guy she knew, but somehow it endeared him to her even more.
Her teeth pressed into her bottom lip as she remembered meeting him in her dad’s office, and then talking to him again before she left. She thought he was cute and sweet, and even in just those few minutes they spent talking, she could tell he was a lot more sincere and genuine than any guy she had dated since Seth.
They had made tentative plans for the weekend, and a wave of sadness swept through her at being unable to keep those plans.
If – when, she thought fiercely as she folded up the piece of paper again and carefully slipped it back into her pocket – she got out of here, she was going to make sure she saw Eli again.
Chapter 22
Juliet looked up at the quick tap on her door to see Chris step into her office, his expression thoughtful and a bit suspicious as he looked at her.
“What?” she said, unable to keep a defensive edge out of her voice.
“You’re here early,” he murmured as he stepped towards her desk, his eyebrows raised slightly.
She gave him a look. “I’m always here before you.”
“Yeah, but I came in early today, and you’re still here before me.”
Juliet met his gaze, thinking about the four files in her bag. She had come in early to replace David’s files, and had hoped to show Chris the possible suspects later to make it seem like she had discovered them during the day. Underestimating him was clearly becoming something she couldn’t do anymore.
He propped one hand on his hip and sighed as he shook his head. “What’d you find?”
Juliet leaned down to pull the files from her bag and stood, walking around the desk to hand them to him.
“Four possibilities, all with serious cause to want to hurt David.”
Chris nodded and raised his gaze to her face. “Anything else?”
She frowned, meeting his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, did anything else come up during your little powwow at David’s house that might be useful to this investigation?”
“Chris –”
“Juliet, I cannot afford to fuck this up,” he said in a low voice, his gaze intense against hers. “And I’m not just talking about my job or my reputation. I’m talking about Hannah’s life. One little mistake, one stupid misstep here or there could mean the difference between finding her alive and finding her –” He broke off with a sharp breath. “If this goes wrong. . . I don’t know if I could live with that.”
He paused, looking away from Juliet for a moment, and then took another breath as he looked back at her.
“I know your allegiance lies with David, but this is my case. I’m in charge, and I need you to be straight with me.” His brow creased. “I need you on my side too.”
&nb
sp; “I am, Chris,” Juliet said quietly.
“Then no more of this,” he said, holding up the files. “No more going behind my back and doing your own investigating. I can’t stop you from giving David information about what’s going on, and I don’t really want to because he deserves to know, but if you get any ideas or any kind of lead that would be helpful to this case, come to me. I don’t need you two going off on wild goose chases. Okay?”
Juliet nodded. “Okay.”
“Thank you.”
“And I’m sorry.”
Chris shook his head. “It’s all right,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting a little, and in that brief change of expression, Juliet could see how tired he was already. She imagined he had been up all night, thinking about the investigation, about Hannah, and about David.
This case was going to age him, but he would come out stronger on the other side, more confident in himself and his abilities than before. She hoped so, at least. She didn’t want to imagine how else this could turn out; it scared her too much.
“I want a meeting in the conference room in about a half hour,” Chris said, pulling her from her thoughts. “Go over things, see where we are.”
Juliet nodded, and Chris flashed a smile at her before stepping from the office.
After a quick stop to drop the files on his desk and grab his coffee mug, Chris headed for the office coffee pot. Eli was there already, pouring sugar into his own coffee.
“You look tired,” Chris observed, casting the younger man a sidelong glance.
“Yeah,” Eli murmured, giving his coffee a stir. “I was just up kind of late. I mean, it’s not every day a girl gets kidnapped the same day you meet her.”
Chris gave a brief, humorless laugh as he nodded, eyes on the cream he was adding to his coffee. Eli finished fixing his and stuck the plastic stirrer in his mouth before dropping it into the trash can.
“You okay?” he asked, looking up at Chris as he sipped his coffee.
“Yeah,” Chris sighed. “A little on edge. A little annoyed.”
“Annoyed? How come?”
Chris sighed again and shook his head. “Apparently David and Juliet took it upon themselves to do a little investigating of their own last night.”
“Oh – oh, yeah?”
Chris looked over at Eli to see him gripping his coffee cup a little tighter than necessary and frowned slightly.
“Is that really so bad?” Eli asked, raising his eyebrows. “I mean, Jul – Agent Grayson told you what they found, right?”
“Yeah,” Chris said slowly, his frown deepening as he finished making his coffee. “But I don’t appreciate them going behind my back on what’s supposed to be my case.”
“I’m sure they didn’t mean to do it like that,” Eli reasoned, his shoulders rising in a shrug. “I mean, Agent Cole seems like the type who isn’t going to just sit around, especially when it comes to his daughter.”
“Yeah,” Chris muttered again, lifting his mug to his lips. “Still don’t like it.”
Eli nodded, staring down at his coffee, and then murmured that he needed to get back to his desk.
“Progress meeting in twenty,” Chris called after him.
Eli held up his hand in acknowledgment, and as Chris watched him go, he had a feeling that David and Juliet had help the night before.
Chapter 23
David opened his eyes and lay still a moment, staring up at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure what time it was and didn’t feel like turning his head to look, but the sunlight coming through the windows was brighter than normal, and he knew it was well past the time he normally got up during the week.
Part of him was tempted to just lie in bed all day. He couldn’t go to work, Hannah was gone, and he didn’t see any point in getting up.
The memory of one of the few times he took a day off of work and did nothing came into his mind. Hannah had been sick for a couple of days, and by that point was old enough that she could stay home by herself, curled up in bed with the phone nearby in case she needed to call him. But when he walked into her bathroom on the third day and found her sitting on the floor, pale and dazed, he’d decided right then and there he was not going into work.
They had spent the entirety of the day lying in his bed together, Hannah curled against his side while they watched movies. She slept on and off, David giving her flu medicine every few hours, and he remembered feeling the heat of her fever as she lay beside him, and how concerned he was until it broke later that night, drenching her in sweat.
The next morning, she was up before he was, and he found her in the kitchen, eating cereal like she hadn’t seen food in weeks. It was almost like the previous three days had never even happened.
He tried not to think about how it would be after this, how long it would take for her to be okay again.
David sighed and raised a hand to his face, forcing his thoughts away before throwing the covers aside and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He headed downstairs for coffee, and sipped it as he munched a piece of toast for breakfast, trying to decide what he wanted to do. He needed to distract himself, needed something to keep him from staring at the phone all day, waiting for any kind of news.
After draining the last of his coffee, he set the mug in the sink and brushed crumbs from his shirt as he moved to the laundry room to grab the large basket from the shelf over the washer and dryer.
His clothes went in first and then he headed into Hannah’s bathroom for hers. He tried to lose himself in the action and not think about what he was doing, tried not to look at all the reminders of her in the small room, though it seemed impossible. His eyes fell first on her brush, sitting on the counter with a few strands of hair tangled in the bristles, and then moved to the shower, lighting on her expensive lavender body wash on the shelf, one of her few indulgences.
When he leaned down to grab a shirt that had fallen between the tub and the hamper, he sighed softly at the sight of the rubber duck sitting on the edge of the tub, a remnant from her childhood that she hadn’t gotten rid of.
Once he was finished, he carried the basket of dirty clothes back down to the laundry room and began to sort, dropping Hannah’s clothes into piles, turning shirts right side out and checking for stains that might need extra attention. He didn’t expect to find any; Hannah was rather fastidious when it came to her appearance.
He reached the last few items of her clothing, plucking out the shirt she had been wearing the day she was taken. It was one of her favorites, white with large brightly colored flowers, and he sighed as he gave it a shake, watching a long strand of blonde hair float to the floor.
Suddenly, he began to hear Hannah’s voice singing “Hey Jude” and froze, confused, until he realized it was the ring tone he had set for her on his phone. His eyes widened, and he flung the shirt over his shoulder before fumbling the phone from the pocket of his pajama pants.
The name on the display read Hannah, and he stared at it, unable to breathe for a second before he finally tapped the screen to answer it, raising it to his ear. His words came out in a rush, his heart pounding somewhere in the vicinity of his throat.
“Hannah? Honey, is that you? Where are you? What –”
He was cut off by a low chuckle that obviously did not belong to Hannah, and a sick feeling settled in his stomach. The seasoned agent part of his mind switched on, focusing on the sounds in the background, waiting for a clue as to the caller’s, or Hannah’s, location. He could hear something that might have been construction mixed with the more distant sound of traffic.
“Who is this?” he demanded, his free hand tightening into a fist at his side. “Where is my daughter?”
The man on the other end of the line laughed again, and David’s anger exploded.
“Listen to me, you son of a bitch, when I find you –”
“Empty threats, Agent Cole,” the man said sharply. “I’m only calling to tell you that your daughter will die Tuesday night. Eight o’clock.”
“What do you want?” David asked, trying to keep the fear from his voice.
“I’ve already got it.”
“What –” David began, but the background noise ended abruptly and he knew the man had hung up on him.
Though he knew it was a futile gesture, he immediately tried to call back. The phone rang and rang; it was obvious it was still on and he could imagine the bastard laughing at him. Hannah’s voicemail picked up and David ended the call, resisting every urge he had to throw his phone against the wall.
The bright colors of Hannah’s shirt, still slung over his shoulder, caught his eye and he took it in his hands, staring at the flowers.
Your daughter will die.
The words circled in David’s head, and he felt his chest begin to grow tight, making it hard to breathe. The feeling spread to his throat and the flowers began to blur.
“No,” he said firmly, his voice low. He took a breath, and when he spoke again, his voice was stronger. “No.”
He dropped the shirt back into the basket and hurried from the laundry room, dialing Juliet’s office as he headed for the stairs. It rang twice before going to voicemail, which meant she was on a call.
“Damn it, Jules,” he muttered as he dashed up the stairs to his bedroom. He stepped into the bathroom to retrieve his jeans from the day before and discarded his pajama pants, dialing Juliet again as he tried to pull the jeans on with one hand.
“David,” she said when she answered, forgoing any kind of greeting, “I was about to call you, we just got a hit on Han’s phone –”
“Yeah, I know, the fucker just called me,” David replied, tucking the phone between his shoulder and his chin as he quickly fastened his pants.
“The kidnapper?” Juliet said, startled. “What did they say?”
“I’ll explain when I get there. I’m on my way right now.”
“We’re trying to get a fix on where the call came from; I’ll call you as soon as we do.”
She hung up without another word, and David shoved his phone in the pocket of his jeans, turning to go in search of his shoes.
