To her credit, Agent Hart showed none of the disappointment she must have felt. Instead, she rested a hand on Claire’s and smiled. “Thank you, Claire. You’ve been a great help. And I promise I won’t stop until I find him.”
Claire beamed, her eyes filling with tears. She’d just triumphed over a fear that had held her captive for years.
“Get some sleep,” Cathy said, removing her hand and looking suddenly very tired herself.
Alone upstairs, Claire let Erin help her out of the blue dress and into bed. “I’m so proud of you,” Erin said. “I know that was hard.”
Claire smiled tightly. “I want to go home. To the house you bought for Janie and Marta.”
Erin settled on the bed next to her sister. “You will. Just as soon as we catch him.”
“Promise me.”
“If that’s what you want, yes, I promise.” Erin brushed the hair from her sister’s face. “When this is over, I’ll take you home.”
Claire smiled, her eyes closing, the drugs they’d given her still in her system.
Erin stayed until Claire drifted off, thinking of the changes she’d seen in her sister. Were they new, or something Erin had just not noticed? Things between them had always been tense. Had she closed her eyes to the reality of Claire, seeing only the broken child instead of the woman she’d become?
It was an uncomfortable question, but one Erin couldn’t ignore. It involved looking into the damaged parts of her own psyche. And she wasn’t sure she’d like what she found.
Not tonight, though. Not until this was finished.
Erin went back downstairs, where Agent Hart was unloading groceries. She was a petite woman, blond, and might have been described as perky in her younger years, before the FBI had recast her features into a sterner mask. Now she was all business and obviously not pleased with Erin’s role in all this. She’d been kind to Claire, however, and because of that, Erin could forgive a lot.
Noticing her standing in the doorway, Cathy said, “There’s enough food here for several days.”
“Thank you. For everything.”
“I’m not doing this for you, Officer Baker. It’s for your sister. No child should have to live through what she did. And I won’t let him put his hands on her again.”
Nor would she, Erin silently swore. But aloud she said, “Fair enough.”
Cathy finished storing the groceries and brushed by Erin on the way to the living room. Glancing at her watch, she said, “The first two teams should be here any minute.”
“Will you be leaving then?”
“I’m going out to Gentle Oaks. Not that I expect we’ll find anything. The Magician is probably long gone.”
“Even if he is there,” Erin added, “you won’t recognize him.”
“No, but you and your sister will.” She hesitated, then said, “I have to know what you’re planning. Will you stay here with your sister and let us handle this?” Even though she’d phrased it as a question, Cathy sounded like she already knew the answer.
Erin turned to the windows, the outside world blocked by faded heavy curtains in avocado and gold, a relic of a long-gone decorating fashion.
She had no idea what to do next.
Her instincts urged her to steal into Neville’s home and put a knife to his throat. He’d talk then. Or die. But in the end, who would that help? Not Claire. And not Cody Sanders.
She rubbed a hand back through her hair. “I need a few hours’ sleep. Then I’ll . . . think of something.”
Cathy looked at her, surprise in her eyes.
“What?” Erin laughed shortly. “You thought I had all the answers.”
“No, but I believed you thought you did.”
Erin dropped into a nearby chair. “I have no answers, Agent Hart. None. I’m not an investigator. I don’t know how to catch criminals or solve cases. It’s not what I was trained for.”
She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. She was so tired. “I know how to hunt and how to run. How to fight and kill. How to survive.” She lifted her head, refocusing on the other woman. “I’m good at all those things. But someone else tells me where to go and what to do. This”—she made a sweeping gesture with her hand—“is so far out of my league.”
“So why are you doing it?”
“Because I can’t let it go. Because he took my sister and who knows how many others. I’m going to make him pay for that and make sure he can never hurt another child again.”
Cathy studied her for a moment, then turned away.
“The last thing I knew,” she said after a few moments of silence, “Donovan was planning to stake out both Neville’s house in Georgetown and his estate in Middleburg. It’s impossible for one man to watch two places at once. He could use an extra set of eyes.”
Erin felt something unclench in her chest.
“Before that, though, you’re probably going back out to Gentle Oaks. If the Magician’s still there, which I doubt, you’re our best chance of seeing him.”
Erin realized this woman’s kindness extended beyond broken children like Claire; it included damaged warriors like herself. “I’ll do that.”
Cathy turned back. Smiled at Erin. For the first time. “After you get some sleep, that is.”
Erin slept like the dead, four hours, though she’d only allotted herself three. When she awoke it was midmorning, and the first thing she wanted was a phone. She needed to call Marta and Janie in Miami. They were supposed to come home today, and Erin had to stop them from getting on that plane. Calling from a safe house, however, was a sure way to reveal its location. So she’d have to wait until she could get to a pay phone.
Meanwhile, she checked on Claire, discovering her bed empty and made. Voices drew her downstairs, where she found her sister bustling around the kitchen, cooking breakfast for two strangers, a man and woman, sitting at the kitchen table.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” Claire called when she spotted Erin. “Want some breakfast?”
“Your sister makes great blueberry pancakes,” said the man.
A little stunned, Erin couldn’t reply. She had no idea Claire even knew what a frying pan was, much less how to use one.
The female agent must have detected her confusion because she pulled out her identification. “Sorry, Ms. Baker. I’m Special Agent Randle, and this Neanderthal is Agent Nolan.”
The man smiled sheepishly and started to reach into his pocket. Erin stopped him. “That’s okay, I believe you. I’m just a little groggy.”
“She makes great coffee, too,” he said, lifting his cup from the table.
“That,” Erin said, “sounds good.” Though her thoughts were far from food or coffee, because she suddenly realized that in her hurry to get Claire beyond the Magician’s reach, she’d put her sister in a different kind of danger. From herself.
Had these agents even been briefed on Claire, on the mood swings and depression that could surface at any time? Did they know she could appear perfectly fine, then lock herself in a bathroom and take a razor blade to her skin? Erin had been living with her sister’s illness too long to trust the smiles and easygoing banter.
“I hate to interrupt your breakfast, Agent Randle,” she said, “but could I speak with you for a minute?”
Randle put down her coffee cup and started to stand. “Of course.”
“She’s going to tell you to keep an eye on me,” Claire said, her eyes locking on Erin. “Aren’t you?”
Erin wished she could deny it. “I’m sorry, Claire. But this is the first time you’ve been out of the hospital for . . . a very long time.”
Claire lifted her chin. “Nearly seven years.”
“Yes.” Erin felt the weight of those years, the torment of Claire’s half-lived life.
“My sister is afraid I’ll start cutting myself,” Claire said to the agents, who’d watched the exchange in stunned silence. “And she’s right.” She looked back at Erin. “I fight the urge every day, every minute of every day.”
/> Tears welled in Erin’s eyes, her heart breaking for her sister and the nightmare she endured.
“So,” Claire went on, turning back to the agents once again, “she wants you to keep a close eye on me.” She paused, looking from one to the other before letting her gaze resettle on Erin. “And I want it, too.” She smiled at Erin. “Is that about it?”
Erin nodded, unable to speak. Finally, she said, “That sums it up.” She hesitated. “I love you, Claire.” And had never meant it more in her life.
“Me, too, big sis.” Claire grinned. “Now go get cleaned up.”
Forty-five minutes later, after a quick shower and some food she ate only because of Claire’s insistence, Erin left her sister in FBI hands. And as she was heading out, Claire was beating them soundly at poker. Which made Erin wonder just what the staff at Gentle Oaks had been teaching her sister.
First thing, she stopped at a pay phone. Of course, once Marta heard a modified version of what was happening, she wanted to come home immediately. Two of her chicks were in danger, and she wanted to gather them close. It was only by playing the Janie card that Erin got Marta even to consider staying in Miami.
“Just for a few days,” Erin said. “The FBI will have this man in custody, and it will be safe for you and Janie to come home.”
She could hear Marta’s hesitation. “What about Claire? How is she holding up?”
Erin thought of Claire making pancakes and beating a couple of FBI agents at cards. “She’s doing really well. In fact, she wants to move home when this is all over.”
“Really?” And that was the promise that finally convinced Marta to stay put. If she waited a few days, until things settled down, she’d have all three of her chicks under one roof.
After hanging up, Erin headed for Gentle Oaks. To her surprise, it looked just as it always had. Quiet. Serene. With no signs of the FBI investigation Cathy Hart had promised.
In the lobby, however, the receptionist was expecting her. “Both Dr. Schaeffer and Agent Hart want to see you, Ms. Baker.”
“Where is she?”
The woman frowned, obviously not pleased with having the FBI around. Or Erin. “In the conference room, interviewing employees.”
“I’ll start with Dr. Schaeffer, then. But will you tell Agent Hart I’m here?”
Another frown, but the woman escorted her back to the administration wing.
Dr. Schaeffer rose as she entered his office, crossing the room to take her hand. “Erin, what is going on here? The FBI is all over our records, talking to our employees.”
Erin pulled her hand from his. “I’m sorry, Dr. Schaeffer, if the FBI has disrupted you or your staff.”
“Yes, well, everyone is very upset. I’ve tried to tell Agent Hart that Claire is unstable, and nothing she says can be taken too seriously. Of all people, you should understand that. The very idea that she saw this man is ridiculous.”
“I saw him as well.”
He looked surprised. “You?”
“Yes, I was in the Glades Park with Claire the day he took her. And I saw the same man a couple of days ago in a park in Arlington.”
“Erin, that was nineteen years ago. Your memory is playing tricks on you.”
“It was the same man, Dr. Schaeffer. Now, I need to know who else had access to Claire yesterday.”
He sighed and dropped into his desk chair. “That’s the same question the FBI has been asking, and I’ll tell you what I told them. Other than you and your family, no one but the staff has access to Claire.” He lifted his hands, palms up, in exasperation. “And Agent Hart has the employee files and has been going through them all morning.”
“There must be somebody.” Erin folded her arms, looked at the chair across from him, but knew she was too edgy to sit. She had all she could do to keep from pacing. “Someone new?”
He shook his head. “I can personally vouch for all my employees. We only hire—”
She cut him off. “Think, Dr. Schaeffer.” She moved to his desk and rested her hands on the edge. “What about people visiting other patients? Could one of them have slipped into Claire’s room? Maybe someone on the grounds crew? Or the kitchen staff?”
Pressing his lips together, he continued to shake his head. “We are very strict about that kind of thing, Erin. We never—” He suddenly stopped. “Wait, there was someone.” He paused. “No, that can’t be it.”
She went still. “Who?”
“No, it’s impossible.”
“Who, Dr. Schaeffer?” It took all her willpower to keep from leaping across the desk and grabbing him by the collar.
“Well, Dr. Holmes was here yesterday. He spoke to Claire, but as I said, Dr. Holmes is . . .”
Coldness crept into her voice. “Is what?”
“He’s a highly respected psychiatrist, who’s just in town for a couple of days. He’s attending a seminar in D.C. and wanted to see . . .” It hit him then. She could see it in his eyes.
“Claire?” Erin made an effort to remain calm.
“Yes, but—”
“Did he ask to see Claire?”
Fear had replaced the shock on Schaeffer’s face. “I was with him the entire time. He didn’t touch her.”
No. He wouldn’t. Not with witnesses around. “Is he still here?” Not daring to hope.
“He was this morning.”
She pulled out the 9mm Beretta and checked the clip.
“What are you doing with that?”
“Whatever’s necessary.” Then, at his look of horror, she added, “Don’t worry, I know how to use it.”
She shoved the weapon back into the waistband of her jeans. “Let’s go find this Dr. Holmes.” She grabbed Schaeffer’s arm and half pushed, half pulled him into the hall.
That’s when Schaeffer seemed to get himself together, shaking free of her hold and straightening his jacket. “Shouldn’t we let Agent Hart know about this?”
“She won’t have a clue who to look for.” And she might get in my way.
“And you will?”
“I told you, I’ve seen him.”
Schaeffer pursed his lips, obviously doubting her, but no longer arguing. “I expect he’s visiting with one of the patients. This way.” He started down the hall toward the dayroom.
He wasn’t there. Neither Schaeffer’s Dr. Holmes, nor the man Erin knew as the Magician.
“He could be in one of the patients’ rooms,” Schaeffer said, and snagged a passing nurse. “Carol, have you seen Dr. Holmes?”
“Yes, Doctor. He’s outside with Tara.”
“Thank you,” he said, hurrying to catch up to Erin, who was already moving toward the large doors leading to the patio.
Outside, Erin scanned the patients and staff scattered about the yard. At a distance, no one looked familiar. She needed to see the Magician up close or in motion in order to recognize him.
“There he is.” Dr. Schaeffer nodded toward a tall man, garbed in the typical white jacket, across the expanse of manicured lawn. “With Tara.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course, I’d know Dr. Holmes anywhere.”
That surprised her. She’d assumed Holmes was a fake. “You mean you know him?”
“Well, not personally. Or I didn’t. But I’ve attended several of his lectures.”
She took a deep breath. Was it too much to hope that they’d not only found the Magician but identified him as well?
“Okay, Doctor, I want you to go back inside and get Agent Hart. Tell her we’ve found the Magician.”
He seemed ready to argue.
“Just do it,” she emphasized.
He hesitated, not used to taking orders, then disappeared into the building.
Erin pulled out her weapon, holding it close to her leg, and started toward the couple. They were on the opposite side of the grounds, near the boundary between the grass and the trees. As she passed an orderly and an old woman in a wheelchair, the man’s eyes widened at the sight of the gun.
&nb
sp; “Get her inside,” Erin said, without taking her eyes off Dr. Holmes and the woman with him.
The orderly obeyed.
Erin stopped a few hundred yards away from the distinguished doctor and Schaeffer’s patient. “Dr. Holmes. Move away from her.”
He looked up, surprised, then smiled. And she knew. Though they looked nothing alike, she’d seen him at least twice before. Once in Jamestown Park, three days ago. And before that in Miami, nineteen years ago.
“Is something the matter, Officer Baker?”
“Just step away from the woman. Slowly.”
“And let you shoot me?”
The woman looked at Erin for the first time, her face registering shock. “She has a gun. Oh, my God. Dr. Holmes, that woman has a gun.”
“You’re frightening her, Officer Baker.”
“She has nothing to do with this, Holmes. It’s between you and me.”
He raised his hands, mocking her. “Don’t shoot.”
“Oh, my God. Oh, my God.” The woman folded in on herself, rocking in place.
“No one’s going to get shot.” Though Erin’s finger itched on the gun at her side. “Just step away, Holmes.”
“Whatever you say.” He backed away, keeping the woman between them, easing around until he was just on the edge of the trees. His smile broadened. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today, Erin. But since you’re here . . .” Then he turned, darting into the woods.
Erin raised her gun, and the woman screamed.
“Damn.” Erin couldn’t fire and risk hitting the hysterical patient. Dropping the gun back to her side, she took off after him, leaving the woman’s shrill voice behind.
Within a few feet, the woods closed in around her. Cool. Dark. And dense. She slowed. Leading with the gun, she kept moving. Ahead, a strip of white, and she picked up her pace. It was his coat, draped like a flag over a bush.
Silence. Not even the sound of insects.
He was close. She could feel him watching her, the sensation crawling over her skin. Then movement to her right, and she spun around as a blue blur disappeared into the trees.
Out of Reach: A Novel Page 21