Seconds to Live

by Susan Sleeman

  Sean would never forget the small bungalow from where the girls went missing. Chipping white paint. A sagging front porch with a rusty iron swing. One broken window covered with plastic film to keep the winter cold out. A dismal exterior, and an equally dismal interior filled with dirty dishes, laundry everywhere, trash overflowing, and tons of makeup and hair products for the flashy mother, Vivian.

  “It wasn’t unusual for a bunch of girls to be at Viv’s place,” Wilson continued. “She didn’t supervise them well on the weekends. Often went out and left them alone. Then she’d come stumbling home drunk in the wee hours of the morning. Sometimes with a guy, most times not. She even came knocking on my door a time or two. I hate to admit it, but I let her in, and we . . . well, you know. The girls did what they wanted. Had boys over. Parties that always included alcohol.”

  He lifted his head, a frown drawing down his face like a bulldog’s jowls. “I should’ve reported Viv. Then those girls would be all right today.”

  “It doesn’t pay to focus too much on the past and what could’ve been,” Taylor said. But the unease in her voice told Sean her past still had a hold on her and would until she talked to her parents. Even then, she would still have to fight her feelings, just as he was doing with his mother and Gina.

  “You’re right,” Wilson said. “The Bible says to forget the former things and don’t dwell in the past.” He clutched his Bible to his chest and closed his eyes again. “The night was cold. Crisp. I hurried into my house and let Oscar out in the backyard. He did his business lickety-split, came back in, and I watched the news while the pizza cooked. And I downed my first two beers.”

  He sighed, a long drawn-out affair filled with regret. “I’m not proud of that now, and I don’t drink anymore, but that night I grabbed a third can of beer and started on the pizza. It was my favorite, cheese and pepperoni. I’d usually give Oscar a few pepperonis, but he ignored me and went to the window facing Viv’s house and growled. He was always making a racket over the squirrels, but he never turned away from pepperoni. Still, I figured it was just the girls being wild, and I was tired from work and didn’t want to get up. Then when my beer can was empty, I stood and glanced outside. That’s when I saw the van pull away from the sidewalk.”

  He drew in another long breath and sat there quietly. Sean wanted to nudge him into speaking, but he was clearly reliving the past and prodding him wouldn’t help any.

  “White,” he finally said. “The van was white. But splattered with dirt by the wheels like it’d been on a country road. A Ford. Full-sized cargo van. The streetlight above illuminated it. I saw Becky in the passenger side. She looked worried. I figured Viv finally took her to task and had busted up the party.”

  He’d never described Becky this vividly before. He was in the zone, or he was projecting something onto the memory. Embellishing it. That was always possible and happened after witnesses read newspaper articles or watched TV reporters detailing the incident they’d witnessed. They suddenly recalled seeing things they’d never actually seen. Sean was hoping the additional information came because Wilson was relaxed, allowing him to remember other facts.

  “And there was something on the side of the van too. A logo that was painted over.”

  Sean shot upright. This was the first time he’d heard anything about a logo. “Tell me about the logo,” Sean encouraged, curtailing his enthusiasm to keep from pushing Wilson.

  “I saw it, but couldn’t make it out very well. It looked like it was from a business, and they sold the van so it was painted over.” He squinted, then pressed his fingers over his eyes. “Oh. Oh. It has letters in a big circle. Green letters. Red circle. The bottom one has something written in it.” His eyes flashed open, and he sagged in his chair. “Yeah, capital letters. T or an I. And below it, a W or maybe a V. Not positive on the letters, but this should help, right?”

  Sean nodded. They were heading in the right direction, yet he needed more to figure out which company might have owned the van. “Hypnosis can often bring back additional details. Would you be open to doing that?”

  “Hypnosis,” he muttered. “Man, I don’t know.”

  Sean wasn’t surprised by Wilson’s reluctance, and he wouldn’t try to force the idea. If Wilson felt at all coerced into it, the hypnosis wouldn’t likely work anyway.

  Sean smiled. “Think about it for the rest of the day. I’ll have Taylor call to see what you decide to do.”

  Wilson scrubbed his hands over his pants. “Okay. Yeah. Sure.”

  “Remember.” Sean locked gazes with the guy. “Hypnosis might be the very thing that helps you remember enough to finally bring these girls home where they belong.”

  Taylor wanted the day alone with Sean. She didn’t want to share him with Harold, and yet she did want to help bring those missing girls home. So she didn’t stand when Sean did, but instead looked at Harold.

  He frowned. “You want a decision now, don’t you?”

  She shook her head. “I want to see if there’s anything I can do to help you make the decision.”

  He eyed her skeptically. “Go ahead.”

  She was vaguely aware of Sean sitting back down, but she wouldn’t look away from Harold and remind him that Sean was still in the room. “You know what I always say when making a decision?”

  Harold chuckled. “Yeah. Ask yourself what’s the worst thing that could happen.”

  “So . . .” She let the word trail off. “What’s the worst thing here?”

  His good humor vanished. “I would be under the control of someone I don’t know and can’t trust.”

  There was that word again. Trust. She couldn’t very well tell him about her recent transition regarding it, but she could press him. “You trust me. Would you like me to attend the session with you?”

  “You’d have my back, that’s for sure.” He let his eyes wander the room as if looking for an answer.

  She sat forward to gain his full attention again. “I’m not trying to pressure you. I’m honestly just trying to help.”

  “I know,” he said. “That’s the way you always are. Never telling me what to do, but helping me find my way. I wish we could talk about faith and how it plays into this.”

  She’d like nothing more. “But you know I can’t. My job forbids that.” She smiled so he didn’t see how much that bothered her. “But I can ask you to think about your beliefs, and if this process goes against your beliefs . . .”

  He tapped his chin. “No. Nothing that I can think of.”

  She couldn’t either, but she had to let him discover that for himself. “Would you like to go home and think some more?”

  “No. No. I’ve decided.” He planted his hands on his bony knees. “I’ll do it if you’re there with me.”

  A sense of relief flooded her. “I’ll be there every step of the way.”

  “I’ll get it set up,” Sean said.

  Harold switched his focus to Sean. “Like how soon?”

  “I’ll have to find a psychiatrist experienced with hypnosis who has an appropriate clearance level, but the minute I do, you’ll be the first to know.”

  Sean escorted Taylor through the front door of the safe house. Sean and the team had paperwork to complete and a few loose ends to tie up before heading home, and he wanted to spend as much time with Taylor as possible so he’d dragged her along. He had to admit she’d come along willingly and no dragging was needed, though that didn’t stop him from doing a lot of hand-holding.

  They entered the family room to find Kiley next to Mack on the sofa, her face buried in her laptop. Mack was filling out forms on a clipboard. Cam sat in a chair, his phone in hand.

  Kiley looked up, a worried frown on her face, and she jumped to her feet. “About time.” She set down her computer and rushed over to Taylor. “You’re really okay after your crazy trip down those rapids?”

  “Fine.”

  “And I hear you may be moving to D.C.”

  Taylor shot Sean a look.

/>   He shrugged. “She wormed it out of me. What can I say?”

  “Well, I for one will be glad to have you there,” Kiley said. “I’ve been the only woman on the team since Addy left.”

  “Wait. You misunderstand. I won’t be on the team.”

  “Not officially, no, but if you’re going to marry Sean, you’re as good as part of the team.”

  Taylor’s mouth fell open.

  “Don’t be so shocked, Slim.” Mack crossed over to her and knuckled her shoulder. “We all kinda like you.”

  “Speak for yourself.” Cam didn’t look up, but he was grinning.

  Mack handed the clipboard to Sean. “For you to review and sign so we can get out of Dodge today.”

  Sean nodded and directed Taylor to sit. “I know this will be boring for you.”

  “No worries. I just didn’t want to say goodbye yet.”

  Sean squeezed her hand.

  “This isn’t going to get all mushy, is it?” Mack dropped back onto the sofa. “Because I don’t know about the rest of the team, but I’m not paid enough to put up with that. Killers. Bombers. Terrorists, yeah. But kissy-face. No way.”

  Taylor laughed and playfully punched his arm.

  “See?” Kiley said. “Part of the team already.”

  Sean loved seeing how they were opening their arms to Taylor and welcoming her into their little family.

  “There.” Cam sat back. “Cloud files wiped and the WITSEC database is secure again.”

  “Perfect,” Taylor said. “And Inman told me this morning that since you all were able to access Primm’s dark website and capture the remaining data she sold, our deputies have been able to move the remaining compromised witnesses.”

  “Also, in case you haven’t heard,” Kiley said, “we brought in Primm’s buddy Linc Vines. He explained the REL tattoo Primm made him get. Means Remember Every Liar. She wanted him to be reminded of what she’d do to anyone who betrayed her. He’s finally had enough of her control and agreed to cooperate against her.”

  “Great,” Sean said. “That, along with Dustee’s and our testimony, plus the forensic evidence, will put her away for a very long time. Maybe for life.”

  “Case closed.” Mack planted his hands on his knees. “Feels good to successfully close one. Especially one with such high-stakes consequences.”

  Sean agreed, but then the Montgomery Three investigation was still outstanding. “You should know,” he said, “I just spoke to Harold Wilson, and he’ll undergo hypnosis at my request to see if he can recover additional memories.”

  Mack’s eyes narrowed. “I can’t believe you even suggested that.”

  “Why not?” Taylor asked.

  “Because it’s not often admissible in court, and it can contaminate real memories with ones that are conjured up during hypnosis.”

  Sean had known that before suggesting it to Wilson, but it didn’t matter. “Hypnosis can also be very effective in gaining new information. Sure, it doesn’t happen all the time, but at this point, what do we have to lose?”

  Kiley bobbed her head. “I agree with Sean. The case is closed, so anything we do to help Wilson remember more is worth the risk.”

  “Yeah, I’m on board with it too,” Cam said.

  Sean smiled his thanks for their support. “You’ll be happy to hear he did remember something else. Even without the hypnosis.”

  “What?” the three of them asked at the same time.

  “A business logo on the side of the van that the girls disappeared in.” Sean described both the vehicle and the logo.

  Cam sat forward. “I’ll get started writing a search program with the three letters and logo colors. Hopefully it’ll produce a few leads to follow up on.”

  “And I can search business vehicle registrations,” Kiley offered. “Something we never did because we didn’t know the van was previously owned or could still be owned by a business.”

  “Once that’s done, I’m glad to take a weekend and head down to Montgomery to dig into the businesses,” Mack offered.

  “We can all go,” Kiley said.

  Cam nodded, and Sean was thankful that all of them were willing to continue investigating the girls’ disappearance. He would do it without them if he had to, but they would get much further much faster with everyone’s skills employed.

  He met Taylor’s gaze. “After Harold’s hypnosis, I’ll hop a flight back here to interview him again. We’ll have to keep after this, and it might take some time, but I know we’re going to find those girls.”

  Taylor squeezed his hand. “I’ll help in any way I can, and we’ll find them. I know we will.”

  “It’s only a few hundred dollars,” Dustee snapped as she came down the hallway with Dianne. “I won’t wear those old clothes in my new job, and you can’t expect me to.”

  “Problem, ladies?” Taylor asked.

  Dustee sniffed and lifted her head. “If I’m going to work as a computer analyst at the FBI, I need to dress the part.”

  “Your clothes are fine,” Sean said. “Especially since this is on a trial basis.”

  He didn’t add that he had no idea how long Dustee would manage to follow the strict computer-use rules and buying new clothes was really a premature step.

  “I won’t mess up. Believe me. This is exactly what I need.” She looked at Sean. “Thank you for arranging it.”

  “Don’t thank me. Taylor’s the one who got your MOU changed.”

  She flew across the room and swept Taylor into a fierce hug. “I’m going to miss you. You’ve been, like, the very best.”

  “Ditto,” Dianne said. “I hope you enjoy living in D.C.”

  “I haven’t officially resigned from my job here yet.” Taylor looked sad, and Sean wondered again if it was wrong for her to move to D.C. Not that he asked. She’d volunteered. And readily.

  “Oh, come on. Like you’re staying here.” Dustee rolled her eyes. “What woman in her right mind would say no to that?” She jerked a thumb in Sean’s direction.

  “Yeah.” Sean grinned. “Who?”

  “Not me.” Taylor returned Sean’s grin, and his heart tripped. “Definitely not me.”

  Epilogue

  TAYLOR WANTED TO BELIEVE she could face this day without crying. She couldn’t. The fifteenth anniversary of Jeremy’s death was almost as hard as the first. But today, as she got out of her car at the cemetery, Sean walked beside her, his arm around her back, holding her close.

  “I wish I could make this easier for you.” He drew her even closer.

  She smiled up at him. She couldn’t get enough of seeing him after being apart for three weeks. “You have. By being here, and by helping me let go of the guilt.”

  A steady mist was falling, just like it had on the day of the funeral, though she hadn’t noticed it much then.

  “And I promise, no matter what’s going on in my life, I will be here with you every year,” he said.

  She looked up at the man she loved, and her heart overflowed with gratitude. He was currently involved in a high-priority investigation, plus the team was still working on the Montgomery Three leads, and yet he’d found a way to be here for her. He had to fly back to D.C. that afternoon after only arriving an hour ago, but they had four hours together, and for now, that was enough. She’d be moving to D.C. at the end of the month. A WITSEC deputy’s job awaited her, and they were planning a summer wedding, so they’d be together again soon.

  He brushed a strand of hair from her face. “I missed you.”

  “Missed you too.” She turned to face him and wrap her arms around his trim waist.

  “If I wasn’t getting so much grief from the team, I’d probably call more often.”

  “Is it Mack?”

  “Surprisingly, no. We’ve got this new understanding. Kiley’s been the worst. Nonstop jokes and harassment,” he said fondly. “But then I’ve known her the longest so that makes sense.”

  “You sure you two never had a thing?” Taylor searched his face
.

  “Kiley?” He shook his head. “Never even thought about it.”

  “Maybe she did.”

  “Nah, she’s been one of the guys from day one.”

  “I was one of the guys too.” She grinned.

  His gaze warmed. “Only until I laid eyes on you. That changed in a heartbeat.”

  “Yeah, for me too.”

  He chuckled. “What? You mean I’m not one of the guys anymore?”

  “No, you’re the guy. The only guy. Forever.”

  He looked like he wanted to kiss her but was holding back because of their location. She cupped the side of his face, then sighed and rested her head against his broad chest. She listened to his heartbeat, the solid thump reassuring. When she was ready to move again, she pulled back and took his hand, and they started down the walkway toward Jeremy’s headstone.

  “Taylor, is that you?” Her mother’s voice cut through her like the bullet that had pierced her arm.

  Taylor turned to see the woman she’d missed so very much. She’d aged in the fourteen years Taylor hadn’t seen her up close, but her face was as familiar as Taylor’s own face in the mirror. Beside her stood Taylor’s father. His hair grayer, a few more wrinkles, but that horrible sadness lingering in his eyes—their eyes—when Jeremy died was gone.

  Taylor’s heart sang with the thought that they might’ve been able to move on. They’d stayed together when so many couples split under the pressure of such a tragedy, and they deserved happiness now.

  “Mom, Dad,” she said, her voice catching on being able to speak those words after so long a time.

  “I always wondered if we’d run into each other here one day.” Her mother’s voice trembled.

  “I made sure it wouldn’t happen.” Taylor gnawed on her cheek to keep from crying. “I came early in the morning or late at night so you didn’t have to see me.”