Kill for Me

Chapter Twenty-two

Atlanta, Monday, February 5, 7:45 a.m.

What’s in these boxes?” Susannah asked, sitting in Luke’s office the next morning.

Luke looked up from his reports. She looked fresh and beautiful in the black dress Chloe had loaned her the Saturday before. The dress had magically appeared in Luke’s closet while they slept, free of the dirt, blood, and clay she’d accumulated at Sheila Cunningham’s funeral. It was nice to have family in the dry-cleaning business.

“Yearbooks,” he said, “from all the schools in a twenty-five-mile-radius of Dutton. We used them last week to identify the victims in Simon’s pictures.”

Kneeling on the floor, she opened the box. “Is my senior annual in here?”

“No. I gave it to Daniel. It’s probably in his office. Why?”

“Just curious to see if I looked like I remember. Perspective is an interesting thing.”

“You don’t have any pictures of your senior year?”

She leveled him a look. “Why would I? I just wanted to forget it.”

“I have your picture. Kind of.” He pulled his wallet from his pocket, feeling foolish. “I was going through the yearbooks and saw your picture. I’d been thinking about you for days, since I first saw you at your parents’ funeral. I… photocopied it. I even thought about going to New York to meet you. Priced airfare and everything.”

She sat back on her heels, grinning delightedly. “You didn’t.”

“I did.” He gave her the folded photocopy and watched as she opened it, tentatively.

Her smile dimmed. “I look sad.”

“I know,” he said softly. “I thought so, too.”

She swallowed hard and gave him back the copy. “So why did you copy it?”

“Because I thought even sad, you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.”

She blushed, charming him. “That’s sweet.” She went back to the box and he returned to his paperwork. All was quiet for minutes, then she spoke again. “Luke, I know why Kate Davis was called Rocky.” She put a yearbook on his desk, looking over his shoulder as he studied the page. It was a picture of a young girl with a very bad overbite and thick glasses. “That’s Kate Davis,” she said, “aka Rocky.”

Luke tried to reconcile the gawky child with the sleek woman Kate had become. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. It’s a wonder what braces and a makeover will do. I’d forgotten about it until I saw this picture, but the kids used to call Kate ‘Rocky.’ For the squirrel. You know, the one on the cartoon. With Bullwinkle,” she added when he looked up at her blankly.

“Oh. Why?”

She frowned, thinking back. “It started at one of the plays back in high school. Our private school was K through twelve, so they had little kids, too. They did Snow White and cast some of the younger kids as woodland creatures. Some thoughtless teacher cast Kate as a squirrel. She couldn’t have been more than eight or nine at the time.”

Luke looked at the buck teeth of the young Kate in the photo. “That was cruel.”

“They started calling her Rocky Squirrel after that, and because Garth was so big, they called him Bullwinkle. He didn’t mind, but Kate did. I remember her crying.” She sighed. “I should have said something then, but that was right after… well, after Simon and the others did what they did. I was keeping to myself a lot then.”

“I can see why.” Luke swiveled in his chair and looked up at her, deciding to confront his question head on. “Susannah, how did you know Simon raped you?”

She winced. “He showed me a picture. Somebody must have taken the picture, because it was definitely Simon, artificial leg and all.”

“What happened to the picture?”

“I don’t know. He made his point, then took it back. But I saw it, and for Garth Davis to call me a liar… It makes it worse.”

He hesitated, then spoke when she gave him a look. “It’s just that I’m surprised it wasn’t with Simon’s collection. Either the one Daniel found or the box you found.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You don’t believe me?”

“Of course I do,” he said quickly and her frown smoothed. “I definitely believe you. I’m just wondering where the picture went.” He sandwiched her hand between his. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll go with you to see Garth when morning meeting is finished. He may know where Bobby is hiding. Now I gotta go.” He dropped a kiss on her lips.

“Luke.” He turned at the door. Her eyes were wide, her hands clutched together so tightly her knuckles were white. “Tell Chloe to make up her mind. I’d rather just know.”

Atlanta, Monday, February 5, 7:55 a.m.

“You look better,” Chase said to Luke when he sat at the conference room table.

“You don’t,” Luke replied. “Any news on Leigh?”

“No. I talked to her family. Nobody seems to know why she would have done this.”

The rest of the team filed in. With the exception of Ed and Chloe, all looked rested, but worn. Ed slipped Luke a note as he passed. Loomis paternity, it read. Positive.

That was one question confirmed. He met Ed’s eyes across the table with a nod.

“You want to share the note with the rest of the class?” Chase asked sarcastically.

Susannah had already given her okay to share the information, now that she’d told Daniel first. “Angie Delacroix, the hairdresser in Dutton, told Susannah that Arthur Vartanian wasn’t her father. That her mother had had an affair with Frank Loomis. Ed ran the tests and it’s true. Frank Loomis is Susannah’s biological father.”

Chase blinked. “Well. I didn’t see that coming.”

“Neither did she,” Luke said. “Seems like Frank Loomis fixed a lot of Simon’s legal problems, including falsifying evidence in the Gary Fulmore case.”

“That explains a lot,” Chloe said. “I’ll make sure that gets included with the record. We’d started an investigation into Loomis the day before he was killed.”

“Speaking of investigations,” Luke said. “She needs to know, Chloe.”

Chloe looked miserable. “I didn’t sleep a wink. But, Luke, I have to file charges.”

He bit back what would have been a sharp reply. “At least she’ll know. Tell them,” he added, when the team looked confused.

“Susannah Vartanian was in possession of a firearm illegally yesterday,” Chloe said.

“Oh my God,” Talia snapped. “Chloe.”

“That’s stupid,” Pete added. “Talk about adding insult to injury.”

“No time served. Right, Chloe?” Chase said wearily.

“No time. Community service, but no time.” She looked at Luke and for the first time he saw the sassy Chloe on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry.”

He patted her hand. “She’s okay with it. She said she’d do the same thing.”

Chloe blew out a breath. “It still sucks.”

“Nothing about the last week has done anything other than suck,” Chase said. “Ed, you were busy during the night. Tell them what you’ve got.”

“A couple things.” His eyes grew bright in his worn face. “We lifted some prints off the syringes we found in the bunker and got a match with the hospital’s records.” He pulled a photo from his folder. “Jeff Katowsky, thirty-nine years old. He’s a nurse at the hospital. We picked him up this morning, hiding in his mother’s basement.”

“He tried to kill Ryan Beardsley?” Luke asked.

“He’s confessed,” Chase said. “He was contacted by a woman and threatened that she’d reveal his drug habit if he didn’t kill Beardsley. Just like Jennifer, the nurse.”

“How did Bobby know these people’s secrets?” Nancy asked. “Bobby had to have a source. Who knew about Jeff Katowsky’s drug problem?”

“He won’t say,” Chase said. “Chloe offered him a deal, and he still wouldn’t say.”

“He was genuinely terrified,” Chloe said. “We said we’d protect him. He laughed.”

“Just like Michael Ellis, Darcy’s killer,” Luke said. “Not a coincidence.”

“Chloe, did you ask Al Landers about pressing Darcy’s killer again?” Chase asked.

“I called him before I came in this morning, but he wasn’t in yet.” She took her BlackBerry from her purse. “I also e-mailed him after last night’s meeting.” She scrolled through her messages, then looked up with a frown. “Here’s his reply. He says he’ll go up to the prison himself today, but he didn’t get the police sketch we faxed up to him. The one Susannah gave of the man who raped her the night Darcy was killed.”

Luke closed his eyes. “Susannah said the artist gave the sketch to Leigh.”

“Fuck.” Chase called for the new clerk sitting at Leigh’s desk. Minutes later, he was scowling. “No record of a fax to New York. Leigh didn’t send it and it’s not in her desk.”

“The artist will have a copy,” Pete said. “We can send it again.”

“Yeah, we can,” Luke said. “But why would Leigh not send it? She seemed to be playing both sides of the fence, giving information to Bobby and to us. I wonder what else she held back from us.”

“I’ve been going through the record of calls to her office phone as well as the hotline records all night,” Chase said. “Seems like she shared everything that came through.”

“Maybe she knew him,” Luke said. “Or maybe Bobby told her not to send it.”

Chase stared for a moment, then sighed. “You could be right. I asked the new clerk to contact the sketch artist. We’ll get the sketch sent out and see what shakes out. For now, we focus on identifying the unknown man Monica Cassidy heard in the bunker. He could be the only one left who was willing to help Bobby escape.”

“Mansfield took pictures of Granville in the bunker as insurance in case Granville ever crossed him,” Ed said. “Maybe this guy is in one of them.”

Luke’s stomach turned, bile rising in his throat at the thought of having to look at those pictures again. “I’ll look at them.”

Chase shot him a look of sympathy. “I can get somebody else to do it.”

“No. I want this guy. I’ll do it.” And if it got to be too much, he now had somewhere to turn. He wondered if Susannah understood exactly what she’d offered to do, then he remembered that first afternoon in his car. And a little more of you dies each day. She knew. From experience she knew. It made her need to help him all the sweeter. “But first I want to talk to Garth Davis. He may know where his wife is hiding.”

“He gets arraigned this afternoon,” Chloe said. “He’ll be transported by eleven.”

“Can you get remand?” Talia asked.

“I’m going to try, but I don’t think so. I’ll probably get a pretty high bail, though, which may amount to the same thing. Garth Davis’s bank account is empty. It appears Bobby cleaned him out right before she supposedly ran away.”

“Won’t he get that money back?” Nancy asked, and Chloe shrugged.

“If we could separate Garth’s money from Bobby’s revenue,” she said innocently. “We found her bank accounts on her hard drive, no problem.”

“That hard drive of Bobby’s was just packed with information,” Ed said, his jaw hard. “She was getting rich selling children to rich perverts. Right now we’re too busy trying to document her business transactions to find Garth’s money. He can sit a while and rot.”

“Amen,” Luke said. “Are we done? I want to see Garth before he gets transported.”

“In a minute,” Chase said. “Pete, get that artist’s sketch and pass it around. Show it to Leigh’s friends and family, see if they recognize him. I want to know who he is. Talia, get with the police in Arkansas. Find out whatever you can about Bobby’s childhood, anybody she might go to for help. Ed, what do you have going?”

“We’re tracking concrete manufacturers.”

“Why?” Pete asked.

“Do you remember me telling you that the floor of that bunker was really old, but that the walls were new, prefabbed? Well, guess who also had prefabbed concrete walls in his house that are identical in composition?”

“Mansfield,” Nancy said, snapping her fingers. “It was that structure off his basement, where he’d stored all his munitions and kiddie porn.”

“Yep. I’ve got a list of concrete companies who’d have this mineral composition,” Ed said. “If Mansfield bought a bunker, who knows who else they’ve served?”

“What about Granville’s safe-deposit box key?” Nancy asked.

“Track it,” Chase said. “The banks are all open today. See if Granville had a box at any of them. Germanio, I want you in Dutton by ten. Congressman Bowie’s daughter Janet’s funeral is at noon.”

“She was the first of Mack O’Brien’s victims last week,” Chloe said. “There will be a media circus in Dutton today. Politicians and reporters everywhere. Bobby might show.”

“I know. I’ve arranged to have video surveillance and plainclothes agents at both the funeral and the cemetery afterward.” Chase looked at Germanio. “I’ll get you a list of the agents who’ll be there. I want you there to coordinate. We’ll do searches going into the church for the funeral, but the cemetery will be harder to control. Apparently there’s also a luncheon of some kind afterward for the media. I’ll see you’re admitted.”

Germanio nodded. “Will do.”

“Good. Everyone, meet back here at five. You’re all dismissed.” Chase pointed to Luke and Chloe. “You two stay.”

“What is it?” Luke asked impatiently when the others were gone.

“When I wasn’t going through Leigh’s phone records last night, I was reading the rest of Jared O’Brien’s journal. Luke, he describes every rape those boys did in great detail. There is nothing about raping Susannah in that journal.” Chase sighed. “And Jared was enough of an asshole that he would have bragged about it, if only in his journal. He wanted to… choose Susannah, but Simon always said no.”

“Because he’d already done it,” Luke murmured, and Chase frowned.

“What do you know, Luke?”

Luke sighed. “She doesn’t want Daniel to know. Simon participated in at least one rape. He showed her a picture of him raping her.”

Chase shook his head. “Jared was clear Simon never participated. Where is this picture?”

“She doesn’t know.”

“So it was Simon and at least one other,” Chase said. “Whoever took the photo.”

“Granville,” Luke said, clenching his teeth. “It had to have been Granville.”

“Then it’s possible Garth Davis is telling the truth,” Chloe said quietly.

“I know,” Luke said. “And if he is…”

“He’s not guilty of her rape,” Chase said. “He’s the only one of the seven left alive.”

“So she came forward for nothing,” Chloe said dully. “Godammit.”

“Not for nothing.” The three of them whipped around to look at the door where Susannah stood clutching a yearbook to her chest. “I came forward for me, to take my life back.” She met Luke’s eyes and smiled. Luke made himself smile back, even though his heart was cracking. She cleared her throat. “I found something you should see.” She put the yearbook on the table and opened it. “I was too nervous to sit still, so I started paging through all the yearbooks in that box in your office. This one is from Springfield High, about twenty miles from Dutton.” She pointed to a picture. “Look.”

“Marcy Linton.” Chase looked up at her with a mild frown. “I don’t understand.”

“I didn’t know her as Marcy Linton,” Susannah said. “I knew her as Darcy Williams.”

There was a moment of stunned silence, then a collective sigh. “So she grew up twenty miles from you, but met you in New York,” Luke said slowly.

“Not a coincidence,” Susannah said. “She was somehow part of the plan. I want to know how, and why, and what went wrong the night she was murdered.”

“I agree,” Chase said. “We need to find out more about Miss Marcy Linton. I’ve got Talia calling the police in Arkansas about Bobby’s past. When she’s finished, I’ll have her track down the Linton family.”

“I’d like to go with her,” Susannah said. “Please, Chase. The Darcy I knew said she was a runaway, that she had no family. She was my friend, or I thought she was. I had her buried in New York.”

“You paid for her burial?” Chloe asked.

“I couldn’t let her be dumped in Potters’ Field. If she has family somewhere, they need to know what happened to her. Please let me go with Talia.”

“Until we find Bobby, I want you safe in this building,” Luke said fiercely.

Susannah shook her head. “What if she’s gone, run away? What if we never find her? I can’t hide forever, Luke. Talia’s a good cop. I’ll be safe with her and I promise I’ll be careful. First though, I need to speak with Garth Davis.”

Charlotte, North Carolina, Monday, February 5, 8:45 a.m.

Special Agent Harry Grimes was putting the finishing touches on his closed report on the abduction and recovery of Eugenie Cassidy when his phone rang. “Grimes.”

“Harry, it’s Steven Thatcher. We found Dr. Cassidy’s car.”

Genie and Monica’s dad. “Oh, hell, Steven. Where?”

“Lake Gordon. There was a bass tournament yesterday and some guy found Cassidy’s car with his fish finder. He called it in this morning when he saw the news on Genie being found, but her father is still missing. We’ve got a team dragging the lake.”

“I’m on my way.”

“Hey, how’s the girl, by the way?” Steven asked.

“Genie’s untouched,” Harry said. “Physically anyway. She’s still in shock. Monica… well, that’s a different story. I talked to her mother this morning. Monica’s got a long row to hoe. I wish… I wish we could have done something to prevent this.”

“She’s alive,” Steven said. “Remember that. What about this Jason character?”

“ ‘Jason’ was a team of two madams, a doctor, and a deputy sheriff. All are dead except for the older madam. Genie identified the younger madam as her abductor.”

“Could any of them have killed Dr. Cassidy, assuming this is his car we found?”

Harry checked his notes. “No, none of the four could have done it. Given the time Cassidy’s neighbor saw his car drive away, it can’t be either of the women. The younger madam was dead by noon, in Georgia. The older woman was seen at the scene and likely killed the young one.”

“What about the deputy?”

“He was killed Friday, the day Monica escaped. The doctor was killed then, too.”

“Shit,” Steven said. “They got a real mess down there.”

“I don’t think we know the half of it. I talked to Luke Papadopoulos down in Atlanta. He says there’s still at least two more out there-the older madam and one other.”

“What do you know about Genie’s abduction?”

“She was taken from an all-night diner called Mel’s.”

“If I were you, I’d check it out.”

“I did, a few hours before Genie was found. She said the younger madam did it, and she’s dead now.”

“But you also said the younger madam couldn’t have been involved in the abduction of Genie’s daddy, so we have at least one more player. Maybe it’s the same other player this Papadopoulos in Atlanta’s looking for. Did this diner have security video?”

“Only at the cash register. But…” Again Harry flipped through his notes. “There’s an ATM across the road. The angle on their security camera might be about right.”

“There you go,” Steven said. “Have at it, boy. I’ll call you if we pull up Dr. Cassidy.”

Atlanta, Monday, February 5, 9:35 a.m.

Susannah’s stomach churned as she stood outside the interrogation room in which Garth Davis waited. “I’m scared, Luke,” she murmured.

He slid his arm around her waist. “You don’t have to do this. I can talk to him.”

“No, I do need to do this.” She drew a deep breath. “Let’s get it over with.”

Chloe was waiting inside the room, along with Garth Davis and his lawyer.

“Garth,” Susannah murmured and sat in the chair Luke pulled out for her.

“Susannah,” he said warily. “It’s been a long time.”

“Yes, it has.” She studied his face, not with the eye of a prosecutor, but with the eye of a woman whose life had been turned upside down for way too long. Garth looked drawn, haggard. At barely thirty-two years old, he looked… old. As old as she felt.

Garth looked up at Luke. “You found my sons. Thank you.”

Beside her, Luke nodded once. “We said we would.”

“I saw the news. I swear, I didn’t know what Barbara Jean had done.”

“She tried to kill me yesterday,” Susannah said.

Garth met her gaze, his eyes haunted. “I know.”

“Did you know she hated me?”

“No.”

“Did you know she was Arthur Vartanian’s daughter?” she asked.

His eyes widened in shock. “Really?”

“Yes.” And then she knew what she wanted to ask. “Did you rape fifteen girls?”

“Garth,” his lawyer warned, but Garth held up his hand wearily.

“Enough. It’s enough already. I’m not getting out of this. They have pictures, a journal. My sister is dead, along with half of Dutton. Enough people have died for the sins of a handful of stupid boys.”

“My original offer stands, Mr. Davis,” Chloe said. “Fifteen years.”

“The deal sucks, Chloe,” Davis’s lawyer said. “He was a juvenile, for God’s sake.”

“He was seventeen.”

“Only for half of them,” the lawyer argued, and Chloe rolled her eyes.

“There’s a mandatory sentence for every count. If a judge orders those served consecutively your client would be in prison for the rest of his life.”

“But no judge would,” his lawyer scoffed.

Garth shook his head. “Stop, Sweeney. You can’t get me out of this.”

“We’ll request a change of venue,” his lawyer said, and Garth laughed bitterly.

“Where? To Mars? There is no place that doesn’t know the Richie Rich Rapists.” His mouth twisted. “I’m going to take Miss Hathaway’s deal. I’ll get out in time to see my grandchildren. Yes, Susannah, I raped fifteen girls thirteen years ago. I was caught up in this game… this idea that it would make us men. But I swear, I did not rape you.”

She believed him. Still… “Maybe you were left behind once.”

“I don’t think so.” He shrugged. “The others would have bragged. Everyone wanted you then. You were cool and sophisticated and… unattainable.”

“I was withdrawn and traumatized,” she said evenly. “I was a rape victim.”

“I’m truly sorry. But it wasn’t me or the others. I’m telling you they would’ve bragged, especially Jared O’Brien.” He paused, sighed. “It could have been Granville.”

“Why do you say that, Mr. Davis?” Chloe asked.

“He was always the one in charge and we knew it, although no one ever said it. Everyone was too afraid of Simon to say he wasn’t the leader. But it was Toby Granville calling the shots. He picked the girls, the dates, the places.”

“But that doesn’t explain why you thought Granville did it,” Chloe said.

He closed his eyes. “I don’t want to say this.”

“Mr. Davis,” Chloe said harshly, “if you’re angling for a better deal, then-”

“I’m not,” he snapped. “Dammit. We always wanted to do Susannah, all right?”

Susannah tensed and Luke offered his hand. She grabbed on tight, listening now, because Garth had seemed to forget she was in the room, addressing Chloe instead.

“What stopped you?” Chloe asked him coolly.

“Granville. Simon would say ‘Not my sister,’ like he was protecting his turf. Turf, my ass. We always said Simon would do his own mother because he could. And had.”

Horrified, Susannah stared, barely registering Chloe’s warning glance.

“Are you saying Simon had a relationship with his mother that was inappropriate?” Chloe asked, still cool.

“Yes, that’s what I’m saying, because that’s what Simon said. And he had pictures,” he added in disgust. “Simon didn’t care about Susannah. He only cared about Simon.”

“But still the rest of the boys wanted to choose Susannah,” Chloe said evenly.

“Yeah. Finally one day Granville pulled us aside one at time. Told us to stop asking. He said, ‘Susannah is taken.’ ”

“By whom?”

“By him. Toby Granville. It’s what we understood him to mean.” His shoulders sagged and he turned back to Susannah. “I’m sorry. We thought you were Granville’s. That you knew. When I heard you’d accused me, I was stunned. And that’s the truth.”

She was breathing too rapidly because there didn’t seem to be enough air in the room. And not a single word would come. Luke’s hand tightened around hers.

“I have a few questions, Mr. Davis,” Luke said. “First, do you know where your wife is hiding?”

“If I knew, I’d tell you. She could come and take my boys and I’m stuck in here. I can’t protect them. So, if I knew where she was, I would tell you to protect my children.”

“What about her friends?” Luke asked.

“She was tight with Marianne Woolf, but my lawyer told me Barbara abducted Marianne, too. She had a weekly hair appointment at Angie’s. You could ask Angie who she talked to. She said she had friends in Atlanta. She used to have lunch with them pretty frequently.” He gave them some names and Luke shook his head.

“Those are the names of clients we found in her computer.”

Garth shrugged. “She had lunch with clients often. That makes sense.”

“What kind of clients did your wife have?” Chloe asked carefully.

Garth looked from Chloe to Luke. “She had an interior design business.”

The man had been so deluded, Susannah thought. Had he not been such a monster himself, she might have felt a stirring of pity.

From the set of Luke’s jaw, Susannah could tell he felt absolutely no pity for Garth, either. Luke ripped off a sheet of paper from his note pad and, still holding Susannah’s hand, drew the swastika she wore on her hip. “Do you recognize this?”

Garth’s eyes flickered. “Yes.”

“Well?” Luke asked.

Garth looked at Chloe. “Before I say any more, I want a concession. I’ll allocute. But I want to be able to be sentenced somewhere close by, so I can see my sons.”

“Depends,” Chloe said. “We already know Granville had the symbol on his ring and on a pendant. Do you have anything different?”

“Yeah,” Garth said. “I do.”

Chloe nodded. “Then I can petition you serve your time more locally.”

“ ‘More locally.’ ” His lips twisted at her evasion. “Lawyers,” he murmured. “Gotta love us. I didn’t know Granville had a ring, too. But my wife had one. It was big, a man’s ring. I only saw it once. She said it had belonged to her father. I told her I didn’t want it in my house, that I didn’t think it was good for the kids. She agreed, said she’d get rid of it. I never saw it again.”

“Describe it,” Luke said.

“Heavy, silver, I think. Raised design.”

“How big was it?” Luke asked. “The raised part.”

“Size of a dime at least.” His eye narrowed. “Why?”

“Did you know,” Chloe asked, “that Kate had that design branded on her hip?”

His eyes widened in shock once again. “What? No.”

“What was the relationship between your sister and your wife?” Chloe asked.

His mouth fell open. “Are you saying they were… sexually involved?”

“No,” Chloe said. “Are you?”

“No,” he said, horrified. “They were like sisters. Barbara made Kate beautiful. She made sure she wore the right clothes, taught her to walk and talk. My God.” He looked sick. “My wife and my sister?”

“You are aware that your wife ran a prostitution business in which she peddled minor girls, aren’t you?” Chloe asked mildly.

“I read about the girls, yes…” His shoulders sagged. “I never knew before. I never knew what was happening under my own roof. Did she… Did she molest my boys?”

“We have no indication of that,” Chloe said. “The court will order counseling for them when custody is awarded. You’ve been candid with us, so I’ll be candid. We’ve had reports that your wife operated as a call girl up until your election as mayor of Dutton.”

Garth fell back in his chair. “What?”

“We found records on her computer. She took in as much as five hundred an hour. One of her former clients came forward to report she’d blackmailed him afterward. The names of the ‘friends’ she had in Atlanta match some of the names on her client list.”

Susannah looked up at Luke. He looked surprised, too.

Garth grew pale. “All that time…” he whispered. “She said she had an interior design business. My uncle Rob always said she was white trash. I should have listened.”

Susannah rubbed her temples. “Garth, I was looking through the yearbooks this morning,” she said. “There were only a few kids at Bryson Academy whose families weren’t wealthy. Barbara lived with her aunt, right? They were far from rich.”

“She was there on scholarship,” he murmured. “One of the teachers helped her get it. I can’t do anymore. Take me back.”

When he was gone, Chloe shook her head. “His wife sells children to perverts, kills his sister, and he’s most rocked by the fact she cheated on him.”

Luke tipped up Susannah’s chin. “Your mother and Simon. That was a shock.”

“But it explains a lot.” Her mouth curved bitterly. “Fine stock Daniel and I come from.”

“Sounds like your whole town is one big, festering Peyton Place,” Chloe said. “But they say wildflowers that sprout up in weeds are stronger than any rose.”

Susannah smiled ruefully. “Thank you, Chloe.”

Chloe stood. “I’m off to another heart-to-heart with an inmate. If you hurry, you might meet Daniel coming into the lobby on your way out.”

“Daniel’s here?” Luke asked.

“He got discharged from the hospital this morning,” Susannah said. “I didn’t know he was coming here, though.”

“Alex has some unfinished business with her stepfather,” Chloe said. “They can tell you about it. I’ll see you two later.”

When she was gone, Luke pulled her to her feet. “I’ll take you back to meet Talia so you can search for Marcy/Darcy’s family.” He hesitated. “You don’t really buy that tripe about bad stock, do you?”

“I don’t know. But it doesn’t seem to matter if it’s nature or nurture in this case. Both suck, for Daniel and me. It’s no wonder Simon became such a monster.”

“But you and Daniel became good people.”

She made her lips curve even though her stomach churned worse than before she’d come in. “Two outta three ain’t bad?”

Dutton, Monday, February 5, 10:00 a.m.

Charles was laying out his black suit when his cell phone rang. “Paul. Well?”

“It’s done. I appreciate the heads up. That sketch artist had done a damn good job. Anybody at APD who saw that sketch would have recognized me in two seconds.”

“You got her original sketch and all copies?”

“Yes. The artist had already uploaded it to GBI’s server, but she erased it before I erased her. And today,” he said with a smile in his voice, “I got a new assignment.”

Charles stopped fussing with his tie selection. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, it seems the GBI Investigative Unit is a little shorthanded at this time, since so many of their agents are either dead or hospitalized.”

“Yes, I imagine their ranks are rather depleted at the moment. So?”

“So, they’ve asked APD to help guard those they think are still at risk from Bobby. I volunteered for duty.”

Charles sat down, his pulse increasing. “You’re guarding Susannah?”

“Not quite. Papadopoulos kept that job. But close. I’m guarding the venerable and brave Daniel Vartanian.”

Charles’s smile broadened. “Excellent. Where will you be?”

“I’m stationed outside his house while he convalesces. I’m supposed to keep the press away as well as any potential bad guys.”

“We’ll see that he has a lot of peace and quiet,” Charles said. His smile vanished. “I assume his personal nurse will be with him, that Alex Fallon.”

“I assume so.”

“They killed Toby Granville.”

“Mack O’Brien killed Granville, Charles, not Daniel Vartanian or Alex Fallon.”

“I don’t care. The events were set in motion because of Vartanian and that nurse of his. He and Fallon killed one of mine. They’ll pay for that. I have to go now. There’s another funeral today and I have to dress.”

“Who’s getting buried this time?”

“Congressman Bowie’s daughter, Janet. We’re expecting the press to descend like locusts. The traffic will be unbearable. The funeral, burial, and the lunch in the church afterward will make this an all-day affair. Text me if you need me. I won’t be able to use my cell phone in the church.”

“Will do.”

Charles eyed the surgical kit he’d used to patch Bobby up the night before. It had been a Christmas gift from Toby Granville. Charles had gotten a lot of use from it this week already between Judge Borenson and Bobby Davis. He thought Toby would have been happy to know that. “And Paul, don’t kill Vartanian yourself. Bring him to me.”

“Put him in the usual place?”

“Yeah. You’ll need to dispose of Judge Borenson, though.”

Paul grunted in disgust. “How long has he been dead, Charles?”

“He might still be alive. I haven’t checked on him in a few days.”

“Have you gotten everything you needed to know from him?”

“Yes. If he’s not dead yet, do what you wish to him. And make Daniel watch.”

“What about the sister?”

“I’ll take care of her in my own way.”

“Do it fast. When GBI discovers that the sketch artist is dead, they’ll just have Susannah work with another artist. She could bury me. You promised she wouldn’t.”

“And she won’t.”

“You should have killed her years ago, Charles.”

“She’ll die today,” Charles snapped. “I have to go. Keep in touch.”

Atlanta, Monday, February 5, 10:45 a.m.

Luke and Susannah found Chase in his office with a uniformed officer, a young man with a sketch pad under one arm. “We’re back,” Luke said.

“Come in,” Chase said, tersely. “Susannah, too.”

Luke and Susannah shared an uneasy glance. “What’s happened?” she asked.

“The sketch artist didn’t show up for duty this morning. Pete found traces of blood in her apartment. Ed’s there now.”

Luke blew out a breath. “Hell.”

Susannah pursed her lips. “Her sketches were gone?”

Chase nodded. “From the apartment and from our server. They were wiped before the server did its nightly backup. This is Officer Greenburg. He’s one of APD’s sketch artists. Susannah, we need another description. You can use the conference room.”

“Of course,” she murmured. She stood, straightening her shoulders. “Let’s go.”

“Did Garth give you anything?” Chase asked when she was gone.

Luke hesitated. “Nothing on Barbara Jean we didn’t already know except she had a swastika ring that probably branded all the girls in the morgue. Susannah’s is twice as big, though, so there’s still another branding tool out there.”

“What else?” Chase asked shrewdly. “There’s more.”

Luke sighed. “Garth wasn’t involved in Susannah’s assault. He said the same thing you did-that Jared O’Brien would have bragged about it. Apparently Granville had claimed… possession of Susannah. He said she was his and for the others to stay away.” He looked away. “Garth also said there was more between Simon and Carol Vartanian than there should have been.”

“Oh God,” Chase said in disgust. “How’d Susannah and Daniel turn out okay?”

“Must’ve been raised by wolves,” Luke muttered. “They’d have done a better job. But that was mostly it. Garth gave us names of people Bobby lunched with in Atlanta, but they were just her johns. So we’re nowhere closer to finding Bobby. I’m going to go over to Nate’s office to search Mansfield’s hard drives. Maybe Mansfield did get a shot of the man Monica Cassidy heard. Besides, Nate’ll need a break. He had a hard night.”

“I heard he’d found those kids on a podcast. I’m sorry, Luke.”

“Yeah,” Luke said bitterly. “Me, too. But one thing at a time. If you need me, use the land line in The Room. My cell phone doesn’t always pick up in there. And Chase…” Luke shook his head. “Never mind.”

“Yeah, I know. I also know Talia won’t take any unnecessary risks.”

“I know.” He closed his eyes. “I just keep seeing Susannah getting shot out of her chair yesterday. Bobby Davis is still out there.”

Chase’s words were hard, but his voice gentle. “So go do your job and find her.”