by M. J. Eason
****
“Mommie, do I have to go to school today?” Her daughter’s heavy footsteps trudged into the kitchen where Kara sat downing her fifth cup of coffee of the morning. The dreams kept her nights sleepless. The frequency of them felt like a foreshadowing of things to come.
Ava hated school and looked for any excuse to get out of going. Another something she’d inherited from her mother. Kara knew every trick in the book because she’d used them all with her grandmother.
“I don’t feel good!” When Kara spotted the emergence of her daughter’s pout, somehow she resisted the urge to smile.
So far this year, Ava had faked five tummy aches and three sore throats. It wasn’t as if Ava didn’t love her teacher, Miss Clopay, because she did. And Ava did well in school. So well that she’d been moved up to the first grade even though she was only five.
But the child struggled to fit into the structured confines of school life, even a school as small as the one on the reservation in which Ava and Kara lived.
The simple one-story house Kara purchased six years earlier sat at the very edge of the Apache reservation. Although Kara wasn’t a descendant of Apache blood, the desert and the reservation was the only place where she felt safe anymore. And the Apache people didn’t ask questions.
“Yes, you do, little girl.” When Ava’s pout disintegrated into tears, Kara reached for her daughter and sat her on her lap.
“Baby, I know it’s hard but this is only your first year. You’ll get used to it and you’ve known most of the kids in your class all your life.”
“But Jakey Asisnih was mean to me. He pulled my hair—twice yesterday during recess.” Ava sobbed uncontrollably, her tiny arms clinging to Kara’s neck for comfort.
Kara smiled against her daughter’s unruly brown curls. Ava smelled like innocence itself. She wanted her to stay that way for as long as possible. She couldn’t tell her daughter that this was Jakey’s way of letting her know he liked her. Never mind that. She’d learn that lesson soon enough.
“Did you tell Miss Clopay?”
“Yes. She told me to be nice to Jakey, because his mom’s sick.” In truth, Elizabeth Asisnih was dying. According to Sarah Clopay, Jakey didn’t talk much about his mother’s illness. He just acted out.
“Well, try not to be too upset with him baby. Jakey needs a friend right now.”
Ava’s gray eyes searched her mother’s face for a moment, sending an unsettling reminder of the past. Every time she looked into her daughter’s eyes, she saw Davis. Old guilt and familiar doubts consumed her along with old desires. She still loved him after all but she hated him as well for the way he’d ended things between them.
“Honey, try to be nice to Jakey and maybe he’ll stop pulling your hair.” Kara sat her daughter on her feet and retrieved Ava’s lunch box from the fridge. “Come on. We don’t want to be late for the bus.”
Ava wasn’t happy but she knew better than to argue a lost cause. She followed Kara out the door and down to the dirt road that ran in front of their house. The bus stopped here each morning at eight-fifteen. And every morning their faithful dog Buster along with Kara made sure Ava got safely on board the bus before going on their morning run.
Kara kissed her daughter’s mutinous face, waved to Roger the bus driver, and waited as they drove slowly away in the one beat-up bus the reservation’s school possessed.
A committee met each month to discuss ways of raising funds for new ones. With any luck, they’d have two new buses in another year’s time.
As the cloud of dust settled around them, Kara could see her daughter’s unhappy expression.
Her heart went out to Ava. She’d hated school as well. In the beginning, she couldn’t seem to control the images going round inside her head and ended up in constant trouble because of it.
By the time Kara was just a little older than Ava, she’d grown accustomed to the visions and dreams. But Ava would be different. Kara was determined her daughter would never know about the gift. Each time Ava showed any sign of possessing it, Kara had a logical explanation for her daughter. Ava would never know the dark side of human nature if she could protect her from it.
Once the bus disappeared from sight and the uncomfortable quiet settled around them, she could feel him trying to enter her thoughts. Kara started out across the desert but he grew more persistent. The more pronounced the images became, the harder she ran until she felt nothing but the exhaustion of her body.
Her tiny house came back into view after miles and miles of open desert. She knew every inch of this place by heart as well as its inhabitants and the black Suburban scattering the peacefulness of the morning wasn’t one of them.
They’d come.
“Dammit.” Kara stopped a few miles away from the house, hands on her knees, watching as the SUV sped down her dirt road. Buster let out a low growl in answer to her anger. She reached down to pat his head, trying to reassure him before retrieving her water bottle.
Through the years, she’d gone from walking to running five miles every morning before going to work at In Bloom, the clothing boutique she’d opened a few years back in El Paso.
If she’d learned anything from her time with the FBI, it had been how to stay in shape and be prepared at all times for anything. She’d never been better at both than at this moment.
Buster growled once more, drawing her attention back to the SUV. Kara was tempted to send him charging after them. Fiercely protective of Kara and Ava, Buster lived for the hunt.
“It’s okay, boy. I’ll get rid of them for you.” Slowly Kara covered the remaining distance to the Suburban that had now stopped in front of her house.
A few yards away from the SUV, she settled into walking. Kara reached the vehicle just as two men dressed in black suits emerged from it. Jeez, could they be more obvious?
Both men glanced up at the house. They weren’t aware of her yet.
“Can I help you?” Startled, they turned quickly at the sound of her voice, weapons drawn. Even though they were wearing sunglasses, probably Bureau issued, she could sense their uneasiness. They looked hot and tired. Kara smiled. The desert heat had that effect on outsiders.
She recognized the taller of the two right away. Ryan Anderson. She’d worked side by side with him on the Angel case. Ryan and Davis Martin had been best friends since their academy days at Quantico.
“Hello, Kara.” Ryan smiled beneath his Bureau-issued sunglasses, which prevented her from seeing his eyes. Not that it mattered. She knew Ryan wouldn’t be happy to see her, no matter how much he might be smiling.
The other agent, a rookie, appeared shocked by his partner’s recognition. His curious gaze moved from Ryan to Kara.
“You’re wasting your time here, Ryan. I can’t help you.” Some of his practiced Bureau tactics slipped a little with her answer but for the moment, Ryan ignored Kara’s rudeness entirely.
“Kara, this is my partner, Agent Sean Griffin. Sean, this is the legendary Kara Bryant.” Ryan’s expression revealed little but she recognized his sarcasm all too well. Apparently, his partner did not.
“Wow, you worked on the Angel case along with Agent Anderson and Agent Martin. This is an honor, ma’am.” Kara cringed over the younger man’s spit and polish manners. It seemed like only yesterday she’d been his age. Had she ever truly been so enthusiastic about the Bureau? Ryan didn’t bother hiding his amused reaction to his partner’s enthusiasm.
“Agent Griffin.” Kara reluctantly shook the young man’s hand. How did someone so green rate partnering with Davis’s second-in-command?
Kara turned back to Ryan wanting only to get rid of this reminder of her past. “What do you want, Ryan?”
“Always so impatient. No wonder you had Davis crazy about you.” Ryan had been good friends with Davis since their university years. He seemed to resent Davis’s relationship with Kara from the start. Never mind the fact that Davis had been the one to seduce her first. Or maybe not. She and Davis had been cr
azy for each other, They ignored Bureau policy preventing employees in ranking positions from getting involved with subordinates. As a result, her love affair with Davis Martin almost cost Kara her life and came close to ending his career as well.
Ryan removed his glasses for the first time. He’d aged over the past six years.
“May we come inside?” he asked quietly, at last dropping the pretense of pleasantries.
“No.” Kara didn’t break eye contact even though she could feel Agent Griffin’s curiosity growing.
“No?” When she didn’t respond, he added, “This is important. I need your help.”
“And I told you, Ryan, you’ve wasted your time in coming here.”
“There’s been another murder.” She didn’t need to ask what he meant by this. The Angel murders would be the only thing to bring Ryan to her for help.
“I still can’t help you—”
“Davis needs you. It’s Rachel, Kara. She’s dead.” Nothing could have prepared Kara for hearing this news. She closed her eyes and tried to keep her composure from shattering in front of Ryan.
“Dead? How?” She forced the words out expelling a shaky breath along with them. Kara hated that the very mention of Davis’s name still had the power to shake her. No matter how badly he’d hurt her, a part of her would always love him for giving her Ava.
“Rachel was murdered,” Ryan added quietly. She and Ryan had one thing in common. They both loved Davis.
“Oh God—I’m sorry. I didn’t know. When?”
“Two days ago. Whoever did this is following the same MO as the Angel.”
Frankie Stephens, the monster known as the Death Angel, took six innocent lives before he disappeared into the dark depths of the Potomac. All his victims followed the same pattern. Rich young women, snatched randomly, blindfolded, raped, tortured horrendously, and killed by having their throats slashed. Kara knew the MO by heart. She’d been the only one of Frankie’s victims to survive.
“So you can understand why I need your help, Kara. This person is good. He’s managed to stump our best profilers so far.”
For once, for Davis’s sake, she almost wished she could help. “I can’t help you.”
“Dammit, Davis needs you. I need you. Can’t you put the past aside for one moment?”
Kara turned to Agent Griffin. “Can you give us a minute here?”
“Ma’am—”
“Don’t call me that. I might be old enough to be a ma’am in your eyes but I’m not in the mood for more Bureau bullshit.”
“I apologize ma—Ms. Bryant. I was only extending professional courtesy.”
“I’m not part of the Bureau, Agent Griffin. And I never was.”
“That’s not what I heard.” Kara turned to give Agent Griffin the full force of her perfected glare, while wondering what exactly he’d heard about her relationship with Davis.
“Whatever you’ve been told, it’s wrong.”
Sean Griffin’s mouth opened and shut for a full minute resembling a fish out of water and then he quietly stepped around to the side of the house with Buster following close on his heels to keep an eye on him.
Kara heard Ryan laugh. “You’ve changed, Kara. You’re not that innocent, small-town girl anymore. All wide-eyed and head-over-heels in love with your boss.”
She took a step closer so that only he could hear what she had to say.
“Let’s get one thing straight here. I know you never liked me so you can drop the act. I’m sorry about Rachel. And for Davis’s sake, I wish I could help you with the case but I can’t. I don’t have the gift anymore. It’s gone. I can’t help.”
That he didn’t believe her became instantly clear. Ryan doubted her abilities in the beginning. Now he didn’t believe her lack of them. Instead of calling her a liar, he shoved the folder he held out to her but Kara stepped away.
The photos spilled to the ground at their feet. Crime scene photos. Gruesome photos.
She couldn’t stop herself from looking, even though she tried. Rachel’s naked body, tortured and mutilated, wearing the Angel’s signature white silk scarf around her eyes. Her throat had been slashed along with signs of other, more deviant forms of torture. Her death would have been welcomed at that point. Rachel’s hands had been untied postmortem. Kara could see the rope marks clearly. Now, they lay crossed in front of her chest, holding a spray of white lilacs.
Everything about the crime scene resembled the Death Angel’s MO. But this case had one thing different from the original Angel victims. Rachel wasn’t wealthy. She didn’t come from a moneyed background.
“Was there a quote from the Bible?” Kara asked, unable to stop the question.
“Yes, the one from Exodus. The one about the Death Angel. The same as in the original Angel case.”
“But they’re not the same. Rachel and the others—they aren’t the same.”
“I thought you didn’t have the gift anymore,” he said with a smug smile.
“I don’t—”
“Then how do you know there were others? Nice try, Kara. You still have it. Even if you don’t want it.”
“You’re wrong. And now I’d like you both to leave.”
Ryan blew out a frustrated breath before finally accepting he couldn’t demand her help.
“All right. I can’t force you can I? Do you mind if I use your restroom before we leave? It’s a long drive back to town.” He didn’t wait for her answer but stepped inside the house, slamming the screen door.
Kara held her breath, praying he wouldn’t see the photos of Ava scattered around the house. Living on the reservation had its benefits. Not in the least was the sense of security she felt. The crime rate out here was next to nonexistent. Kara rarely locked her door while jogging.
Please don’t let him figure it out.
She stood silently ignoring Agent Griffin entirely while listening to his attempt at making nice with Buster. She couldn’t keep from smiling. Sean Griffin didn’t know it but until Kara gave the word, he would remain Buster’s enemy.
Ryan walked out of the house a short time later. Kara searched his expression for some sign he might have discovered her secret but Ryan had perfected his Bureau’s blank stare. He walked past her to the driver’s door of the SUV without saying a word. Agent Griffin moved to the passenger side.
“Tell Davis I’m sorry, okay?”
Ryan nodded then got into the SUV. “It’s good to see you, Kara. And I mean that. Take care of yourself.” With those parting words still hanging between them, Ryan put the vehicle in reverse, turned it around on the dirt drive and sped away.
Leaving the photos of the dead behind.
Kara couldn’t look at them. She listened to the Suburban as it made its way along the dirt road leading out of the reservation. Then she began walking, slowly at first but when that didn’t extinguish their voices, she started running. Before long, her footsteps raced across the open desert with only the sound of her labored breathing and Buster’s thundering gallop overtaking the tortured cries of the dead in her head.
****
“I’m…what?” Davis felt as if someone had kicked him hard in the gut. He tried to focus on what Ryan had just said but Kara’s sad expression, the one she’d worn when he told her he couldn’t be with her, filled his thoughts. He couldn’t get it out of his head. He’d put her life in jeopardy. Almost lost her to the Angel—had lost her to the Bureau and now he must learn, secondhand, that he’d fathered a child with her?
“What did you say?” he asked and waited as Ryan repeated the same sentence one more time.
“Kara had a baby. A girl,” Ryan told him slowly, his expression filled with sympathy.
“So you’re saying—”
“I’m saying you’re a father. Congratulations, you have a daughter.”
“How do you know?” Davis asked but knew the answer already. Ryan had disobeyed a direct command and gone to her.
“I saw a picture of the child. She has your eyes. She�
��s yours. You didn’t know, did you?” Davis’s shell-shocked expression confirmed the truth easily enough.
“What do you think? Of course, I didn’t know. How could I? I haven’t seen Kara in years.”
“So what are you going to do?” Ryan knew Davis well enough to answer this for himself.
“I’m going after her.” Davis didn’t hesitate before answering.
“You think that’s wise?”
“Wise? Probably not. But I’m going just the same.”
Hours later, once on board the flight bound for El Paso, he let his thoughts return to Kara. Davis couldn’t think about her reaction to seeing him and not drop the whole thing. She wouldn’t welcome him there. She’d be angry and resentful. The same way she’d reacted before.
How many times had he wished he’d just walked away from the job then and there—damn the Bureau and its policies. But he’d thought he was doing the right thing. He couldn’t have been more wrong. Davis always wondered how different their lives would have turned out had he simply walked away as he’d wished a thousand times since.
When the captain announced the flight’s departure, Davis turned off his cell phone and laptop. The files called out to him but he couldn’t look at them yet.
Rachel had been the deciding factor for him. He knew with her death it was over for him. He’d never be the same. He’d seen too much. Once they’d solved these copycat cases, as the Bureau had labeled the new killings for the press’s sake, he’d leave the Bureau once and for all.
Because of his personal connection to Rachel, Ryan had taken over as lead investigator in her death. Ed figured it would be easier. Unfortunately, Davis soon discovered he had a personal relationship with all the latest victims. He’d been humiliated to learn about his past relationships with the first two victims. He hadn’t remembered either of them. College seemed years away but he’d had a brief friendship with one victim and a one-night encounter with the other. As much as Davis wanted to believe this might only be some strange coincidence, he knew better. And he feared the worst. The Angel had decided to make this thing personal.
