“I’m not even a real cop!” I protested.
Taylor grimaced. “I wouldn’t mention that during your report.”
I smoothed my soaked hair, pasting the frizzy flyaways to my scalp as I watched the deputies through the window. Taylor led me to the rear of the waiting room so that I could collect myself in the few seconds before they walked in.
“Look,” she said. “All you have to do is tell them where you found Melody. Say you went alone on Officer Martin’s suggestion, that you talked to Roque, and that you found your way out to the lucky rock. For everything else, the case or whatever, that’s up to you. I think the easiest thing would be to play stupid. Clearly, you don’t want to tell me everything that you actually know, so I assume the local cops of Wolfwater don’t merit the privilege either.” When I remained silent, she nodded knowingly. “I thought so. Just play the part, Bridget. In the long run, these rookie local cops don’t know what they’re dealing with. They should leave the complicated stuff to my department.”
“I know someone who would fix you with a scathing stare for saying something like that,” I told her, thinking of Mac, who was sharper and smarter than anyone else I’d ever met, including my many acquaintances from overseas.
“I don’t mean it offensively,” Taylor replied with a shrug. “Most local officers don’t have the experience needed for cases like this. Simple as that.”
Her air of superiority irked me, but there was nothing that I could do about it. I needed Taylor around. Our deal was ongoing. Holly was out there somewhere, and Taylor had the skills and the brains to help me find her. Her arrogance was also a sign of confidence in her own abilities. At least one of us thought we had a fighting chance at taking down Fox.
The front door to the clinic swung open, ending our conversation, and I caught my reflection in the shiny, tinted window as the officers filed into the waiting room. My appearance was no better than bedraggled. My hair was a mess, my shirt had wrinkled in the rain, and my pants were covered in a solid layer of crusty mud. Compared to Officer Martin, with her pristinely pressed trousers and starched collar, I looked like a dirty stray mutt that had wandered into a sponsored competition for purebreds.
“Officer Hart,” Martin greeted me, and I had to look down at my name tag to remind myself that I was not, at that moment, Bridget Dubois. “I see that you decided to ignore my suggestion to stay indoors during the storm.”
I straightened my spine and rested my hands on my belt in what felt like an authoritative posture. “Caught wind of an emergency. I didn’t want to waste my lead.”
“And you didn’t care to contact a local officer for backup?” Martin questioned. Over her shoulder, a burly cop with a full beard peered at me through narrow eyes. “After all, we do know the area better than you.”
“No time,” I replied shortly. “Do you want to know what happened or not? Because I have other cases to track.”
Officer Martin almost motioned for me to go on but stopped short when she caught sight of Taylor. “Miss Daley. Imagine seeing you here. Shouldn’t you be skulking around the bar like you usually do?”
Taylor smirked and pointedly tapped the checkin list on the clinic’s front counter. “Had a last-minute appointment.”
“Mm. Would you mind excusing us for a minute then?” Officer Martin cleared the path to the clinic door and waited for Taylor to retreat.
Taylor eyed the downpour outside. “You expect me to go wait in the thunderstorm? No, thanks. I’ll plug my ears.”
Martin gave her a look but didn’t argue. Instead, she gestured for me to follow her down the hall toward Melody’s exam room, leaving Taylor to deal with the buff officer in the waiting area.
“Is it true?” Martin muttered as the busy sounds of the doctor working emanated from the opposite side of the door. “Did you really find Melody Harver?”
“I found a girl,” I confirmed. “But I don’t know who she is. She didn’t have any identification on her, and she didn’t have the strength to tell me her name herself.”
“But where? How?” Martin’s impressive bicep flexed as she neatened her already impeccable curls. “We’ve been searching for this girl for over a month. No one’s seen a hair on her head.”
“I spoke to Roque, like you said,” I told her. “He mentioned some kind of lucky rock—”
“Underneath the bridge in the woods.” She shook her head. “Those damn kids. One of them is going to fall in the river one day, and it’s not going to be pretty.”
“She was trapped in a hole behind the rock,” I said. “Someone put her there, Officer Martin, then intentionally shut her in. Honestly, I think she was left as a warning.”
The statement slipped out before I realized its implication. I forgot that Officer Martin didn’t really know who I was, that I had a connection to Melody Harver that was not altogether professional. It was true though. It wasn’t a coincidence that Melody resembled Holly. The blonde hair, the athletic body type, the bubbly high schooler that everybody loved. Emmett guessed that I was on his trail, and he’d left Melody as a way to derail me. He knew that I couldn’t leave the suffering girl and continue after Holly. This was going exactly the way that he wanted it to. Returning Melody to Wolfwater took time, time that Emmett could use to make it farther from town with Holly in tow.
“A warning?” Officer Martin repeated. “A warning for what? To who?”
“Think about it,” I said, my voice low. “Two girls gone missing from adjacent towns? The same person is behind this, and they don’t want to know that we’re onto them.”
Martin waved her hands. “Hold on. Before we talk about this any further, I need confirmation that the girl lying on that table in there is actually Melody Harver. Her parents need to be contacted if she is. Wait here.”
When she let herself into the waiting room, I craned for a look over her shoulder. Melody was awake again, frantically shoving the doctor away. He held a needle between his fingers, but the teenager was thrashing about in whatever way possible to avoid its insertion.
“Whoa!” Officer Martin stepped in between the doctor and his patient. I followed her to Melody, who tugged me over to the table and used me as a shield. “Doctor Allen, step aside!”
“It’s just for fluids,” Doctor Allen said, holding up the needle. “She needs help. I don’t understand—”
I gently rotated Melody’s arm. In the crook of her elbow, there were several pinpricks already, accompanied by fading yellow bruises. Holly had had similar marks on her own arms. It was a product of Emmett’s methods for keeping his captives quiet. He had been stealing sedatives from the assisted living facility where his grandmother lived. I showed Allen and Martin the marks on her arm.
“She’s not ready for this,” I told them, wrapping an arm around Melody’s shoulders. She leaned into me and closed her eyes.
“But she needs the IV,” Allen said. “It’s the least I can do before they transfer her to a proper hospital.”
I turned to the teenager and leaned down to her level. “It’s Melody, right?” She nodded, her lips trembling, and I heard the soft gust of a sigh from Officer Martin behind me. “I know that this is tough for you, and that you’ve been away from home for a while. I know that someone hurt you. I understand that. I went through something similar myself. Doctor Allen is trying to help you. You need to let him do his job.”
“Can you do it?” Her voice was timid and raspy, as if she hadn’t had a sip of water in months, and she looked up at me with pleading, watery eyes.
“I wish I could, honey, but I don’t have the training,” I said, smoothing her limp hair away from her face. God, she looked so much like Holly. “But I will stay here and watch for as long as you want me to. Is that okay?” She thought about it for a second, then nodded slowly. I waved Doctor Allen over, never taking my gaze off of Melody or my hand from hers. “All right. Ready when you are, Doc.”
Melody squeezed her eyes shut as the needles punctured her skin, but Allen w
orked calmly and efficiently, setting up the IV drip in a matter of seconds. As the fluids rushed through the clear tubes and into Melody’s veins, she sighed and relaxed.
“There you go,” I murmured. “Feel a little better?”
She clamped down tighter on my arm. “Please don’t leave me.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I said. “I mean it this time.”
Officer Martin approached us warily from behind. “Ms. Harver, I’m Officer Martin. I’ve been handling your case since the day you disappeared. You gave us all quite a scare.” She gave Melody the chance to reply, but the teenager seemed only able to activate her vocal chords if she was speaking to me. Martin went on. “I’m going to go out in the hall to call your parents. Are you ready to see them?” Melody leaned her forehead against the damp shoulder of my uniform and gave another small nod. “All right then,” Martin said. “I’ll be back soon.”
She slipped out of the room. After a cursory check to make sure the IV bag was properly hung, Doctor Allen followed after her. Then it was me and Melody alone in the room together.
“I know you,” she said as soon as the door shut behind the others.
I looked down at her in surprise. “You do?”
“You’re related to her, aren’t you?” Melody went on. Her dirty fingers brushed my cheeks. “The other girl.”
“You saw my sister,” I breathed. “You met Holly?”
“Briefly. We weren’t permitted to have a social hour.” A dry, humorless laugh left Melody’s throat. “But your sister was a fighter.”
“Was?” The past tense curled like a snake in the pit of my stomach, threatening to strike. “Melody, please. I know it’s painful, but I need you to tell me everything that you remember. There are other girls that need help, and I’m the only person who can find them.”
Melody scrunched up her nose, as if trying to remember the events of the past month. I understood her reluctance to do so. During all the time I spent with Fox and the years after, pushing all of the trauma to the bottom of my soul was how I coped with what I’d done. For a while, it worked, until my past started catching up with me. This whole experience was making me dredge up the memories that I’d worked so hard to suppress. Melody, at least, had parents to reunite with after her kidnapping experience. I hadn’t been so lucky, and when all of this was over, Holly would only have me and our foster parents to come home to.
“Melody,” I said softly. “Do you remember who took you? Did you ever see his face?”
“Of course,” she replied. “Tall, muscles, with dark hair and eyes. He had dimples. I remember thinking he might’ve been cute if he wasn’t holding me captive. Mark or something. Was that his name?”
“Emmett Marks,” I growled. “He’s an idiot.”
“He didn’t seem to care if I knew what he looked like.” Melody coughed, so I filled up a plastic cup with water from the faucet and handed it to her. “Thanks. There was another guy too, but he was better at hiding. I think he had light brown hair and some kind of accent.”
“He’s gone,” I said shortly.
Melody’s eyes widened. “Gone?”
“Gone. My partner, er, dispatched him.”
She got the gist, but there was no part of her that showed remorse for the death of one of the men that had held her captive. “Good. He deserved it.”
“Melody, do you have any idea where they were keeping you?” I asked her. Footsteps pattered outside the exam room. We were running out of time for questions. “Was it somewhere here in Wolfwater?”
“I think so,” she said. “It wasn’t a long walk to the lucky rock, though I was drugged, so I might not be remembering it correctly. It was dark and damp, and a loud noise echoed overhead on the hour.”
“What kind of noise?”
“I don’t know,” Melody answered. “It shook the whole room though, or cellar, or whatever place they were keeping us in. It rumbled, like thunder, and then it would subside, and I’d wait another hour for it to come back.”
“Like thunder,” I mused. “Dark and damp. Do you think you were underground?”
“It smelled like it,” she said. “Musty.”
“And the noise,” I prompted again. “You don’t remember anything else about it?”
Melody wiped her watering eyes, leaving a smudge of dirt beneath her lashes. I found a box of tissues, wet them under the faucet, and dabbed at the grime on her cheeks.
“No.” She sniffed as I wiped the dirt away. “Oh, wait. Yes. There was a horn too. Long and loud.”
I tossed the dirty tissue into the trash and dusted my hands. “A rumble like thunder and long, loud horn? Was it a train?”
Melody smacked a palm against her head. “A train! Of course! I can’t believe I didn’t think about that. God, I’m such an idiot.”
“No, you’re not,” I told her. I checked my watch. Nearly an hour had passed since we had found Melody out in the woods. “Do you remember anything else? An entrance to wherever they held you?”
“No. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine—”
The door to the exam room burst open, and several people spilled through it. The first was a middle-aged blonde woman with teary, bloodshot eyes as if she hadn’t slept in weeks. She was followed by a man who would’ve been tall if his shoulders were not so rounded in. Doctor Allen and Officer Martin brought up the rear. The couple paused in the doorway, staring at Melody as if hardly daring to believe their eyes. Neither one of them noticed my presence.
“Melody!” the woman cried, and she darted forward to wrap her arms around the teenager.
“Mom,” Melody croaked into her mother’s shoulder. She broke down into sobs as her father joined their reunion. “Dad. I’m so happy to see you both.”
“We thought we’d lost you, kid,” her father said as he planted a kiss against his daughter’s forehead.
I sidled out of the room as the family dissolved into mutual tears of happiness. Something ballooned in my chest, pressed against my heart as if to keep it from overreacting. On one hand, it was a relief to see Melody return to her parents. On the other, it was a reminder that if I didn’t hurry, Holly might never see her family or friends again. The fresh wave of guilt and shame opened up a pathway to my little sister in my brain. Like a break in a dam, Holly’s consciousness reached out to meet mine.
Bridget.
I ducked into another empty exam room to be alone. Holly! Thank God you’re still alive. How are you? Where are you? What has that idiot done to you?
Her labored breathing somehow translated through our telepathic communication. Slow down. Please. Listen. I think I’m running out of time. Emmett’s gone, for now at least. He left me in some underground storage room.
I recalled Melody’s story. Like a storm cellar?
Yes, near the train tracks.
I wrenched open the door of the exam room and hurried down the hallway. I’m on my way right now, Holly.
Bee, you have to get here as soon as possible, Holly pleaded. The storm’s getting worse. Emmett blocked the hatch, so I can’t get out, but water’s pouring in from all over. It’s up to my knees already. Her voice hitched. Bee, please, I don’t want to drown.
You’re not going to drown.
But I’d lost her again through the finicky static of the connection. It was like having the worst cell phone service in existence. I doubled my pace, sprinting into the waiting room. Taylor was on her phone in the lobby, speaking in hushed tones. I grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out into the rain before she could put up any kind of fight.
“Jesus, what are you doing?” she demanded as I steered her toward Mac’s squad car and forced her into the passenger’s seat.
I got in, turned the key in the ignition, and backed out of my haphazard park job. “I know where my sister is, but I need your help.” The cruiser jolted to a halt. “Which way are the train tracks? Where do they pass through town?”
Taylor pointed behind us. “Back the way we
came, just north of where we found Melody. What do you mean you know where your sister is? Did Melody tell you something?”
“She helped.” I floored it, and the wheels of the car splattered mud against the rear windshield as we peeled out of Wolfwater once more. “But Holly confirmed.”
Taylor pulled her seatbelt across her chest and buckled it as we drove blindly into the storm. “You talked to your sister? How?”
“Let’s just say we’re a lot closer than regular siblings.”
She didn’t question the statement, for which I was glad. Holly and I weren’t the first ones in our family to hear voices in our heads. Our Aunt Ani, my mother’s sister, had been hospitalized for the same thing ten years earlier, right after our parents died. It was simpler to let other people assume what they wanted, rather than trying to explain something that I didn’t understand myself.
The thunderstorm intensified as Taylor provided directions to the freight station outside of Wolfwater. I didn’t think it was possible for the sky to dump so much rain and wind in one go. Every crack of thunder resonated in my chest, like a high school drum line played nonstop cadences from within my rib cage. Every flash of lightning lit up the road in brief moments of clarity. We bumped through hidden potholes, hydroplaned across massive puddles, and whirled through the muddy shoulders, until stacks of empty freight containers rose along the horizon. My heart sank. The freight station was enormous. It would be damn near impossible to locate Holly’s hideout. I parked the car in the middle, pulled up the hood of my borrowed jacket, and got out to look around.
Taylor pinched the hood of her raincoat so that it wouldn’t fly off of her head. “Where do we start?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
Taylor huffed. “Great.”
“She’s underground somewhere,” I told her. “A storm cellar or a storage place. Melody said she was kept in the same place.”
Taylor marched off. “Might as well check the office area first. This place is old. The storm cellar could’ve been precautionary. It makes sense that it might be near the main building.”
I followed her through the gloom, my boots crunching through gravel. The wind blew off my hood again, and I gave up on trying to keep myself dry. The rain seeped in through the collar of my coat and soaked my shoulders. A bolt of lightning spread horizontally across the entire sky as Taylor led the way toward the small office building. The freight station did not appear to be in use, archaic as it was. The tracks nearby were only used in passing. Nevertheless, Taylor cupped her hands to the window to peer inside.
Little Girl Lost [Book 2] Page 6
