Scream For Me

Chapter Nine

Atlanta , Tuesday, January 30, 2:15 p.m.

He’d locked her satchel in the trunk of his car and taken her keys. Alex shifted in the chair in the GBI waiting room, trying not to be annoyed at Daniel’s heavy-handed attempts to protect her, but conscious of the minutes ticking away.

Meredith was leaving in a few hours and Alex still hadn’t visited Hope’s preschool or Bailey’s friend Sissy. Tomorrow she’d have no opportunity to search for Bailey. Not that she was getting anywhere. All she’d found was that Atlanta people loved Bailey. Dutton people hated her. And the last person to see her was Hope, who wasn’t talking.

The last place Bailey was seen was the old house. You have to go in there, Alex, she told herself. No matter what it takes. You’ve been foolish not to go before now.

Still, someone had tried to kill her today and Daniel’s warnings not to go to the Crighton place alone would not go unheeded. I’m a neurotic coward, but I’m not stupid.

But she was late. “Excuse me,” she called to Leigh, their office clerk. “Do you know how much longer Agent Vartanian will be? He has the keys to my rental car.”

“I don’t know. He had three people waiting for him when he got back and we have a press conference scheduled in a few minutes. Can I get you some water or something?”

Alex’s stomach growled at the woman’s mention of food and she remembered she’d had nothing since that morning. “Actually I’m starving. Is there a cafeteria nearby?”

“It’s closed now. Lunch was over an hour ago. But I have some cheese crackers and a few bottles of water in my desk. It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.”

Alex nearly said no, but the growling in her stomach overruled her. “Thank you.”

Leigh slid the water and crackers over the counter with a smile. “Now, don’t you go telling people we only gave you bread and water, okay?”

Alex smiled back. “I promise.”

The door behind her opened and a tall, lean man wearing wire-frame glasses headed straight back to the offices without stopping. “Is Daniel back?”

“Yeah, but… Ed, wait.” Leigh stopped him. “He’s in with Chase and”-she looked over her shoulder at Alex-“a few other people. You should wait.”

“This can’t wait. I…” His words trailed. “You’re Alex Fallon,” he said, his voice odd.

Feeling like the newest addition to the zoo, Alex nodded. “Yes.”

“I’m Ed Randall. I’m with the Crime Scene Unit.” He reached over the counter to shake her hand, then noticed her bandages. “Looks like you had an accident.”

“Miss Fallon was nearly hit by a car this afternoon,” Leigh said softly, and Ed Randall’s expression abruptly changed.

“My God.” His jaw tightened. “But you’re uninjured, besides your hands, that is?”

“Yes. A fast-thinking stranger pushed me out of the way.”

Leigh twisted the top off the water bottle for Alex. “Ed, they have to be done soon. They have a press conference in less than twenty minutes. I’d really wait if I were you.”

Alex took her crackers and water back to her chair and left the two to whisper. She hadn’t recognized the man who was waiting when they came in. He was pacing when they arrived and had nearly launched himself at Daniel, demanding “answers.”

A door opened behind the counter and Daniel and his boss emerged with the pacing man and two others. The pacing man was ashen. His news had not been good then.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Daniel said. “We’ll call you the moment we know anything new. I know it doesn’t help right now, but we’re doing everything we can.”

“Thank you. When can I have…” His voice broke and for the first time that day tears welled in Alex’s eyes. She pursed her lips and fought the sudden wave of compassion.

“We’ll have her body released as soon as we possibly can,” Daniel’s boss said gently. “We’re so sorry for your loss, Mr. Barnes.”

Mr. Barnes was walking to the door when he stopped cold and stared at her and what little color remained in his face drained away. “You.” It was barely a murmur.

Alex looked at Daniel from the corner of her eye. She had no idea of what to say.

“Mr. Barnes.” Daniel stepped forward. “What is it?”

“Her picture was on the news yesterday. My Claudia saw it.”

Alicia. The news had quickly picked up on the Arcadia story, and its link to Alicia’s murder. This man had seen Alicia’s picture, not mine. Alex stood on wobbly knees and opened her mouth but still had no idea of what to say.

“What did your wife say about the picture?” Daniel’s boss asked.

“She knew the girl… remembered the case. Claudia was just a little girl, but she remembered. It upset her. She almost stayed home last night, but she had to go to that damn party. I should have gone with her. I should have been with her.” Barnes glared at Alex, horrified disbelief in his eyes. “You’re supposed to be dead. Who are you?”

Alex lifted her chin. “The picture you saw was my sister, Alicia.” Her lips were trembling and she firmed them. “Your wife knew my sister? Was she from Dutton?”

The man nodded. “Yes. Her maiden name was Silva.”

Alex brought a bandaged hand to her mouth. “Claudia Silva?”

“You knew her, Alex?” Daniel asked gently.

“I babysat Claudia and her little sister.” She closed her eyes and focused on quieting the screams that tore through her mind. I’m losing my mind. She opened her eyes and pushed past the noise, focusing on the man and his grief. “I’m so very sorry.”

Roughly he nodded, then turned to Daniel’s boss. “I want every man you can spare on this case, Wharton. I know people…”

“Rafe,” one of the other men murmured. “Let them do their jobs.” They ushered Barnes from the room, leaving a hush behind them.

Alex met Daniel’s eyes. “Two women from Dutton are dead and Bailey’s still missing,” she said harshly. “What the hell is happening here?”

“I don’t know,” Daniel said, his face stern. “But we’re sure as hell going to find out.”

Ed Randall cleared his throat. “Daniel, we need to talk. Now.”

Daniel nodded. “Okay. Just a little longer, Alex, and I can take you home.”

The men went to the back offices, leaving Alex and Leigh alone in the front. Alex lowered herself into her chair. “I feel… responsible somehow.”

“Involved,” Leigh corrected. “Not responsible. You’re a victim in this, too, Miss Fallon. You may want to consider requesting protection.”

Alex thought of Hope. “I will.” Then she thought of Meredith. She hadn’t called her cousin in some time. When she found out about the near miss, Alex imagined some level of hell would break loose. “I need to make a call. I’ll be out in the hall.”

Ed leaned against the corner of Daniel’s desk. “We may have tracked the blankets.”

Daniel rummaged in his desk drawer for a bottle of aspirin. “And?”

“They were bought at a sporting goods store three blocks away.”

“Right under our noses,” Daniel said. “Intentional?”

“We can’t discount it,” Chase said. “Did they have security tapes?”

Ed nodded. “Yep. Purchase was made by a kid, maybe eighteen. White, five-ten, one-fifty. Looked right up into the camera, so we got his face. Kid paid cash. The store clerk remembered, because it was a lot of cash.”

Daniel dry-swallowed two aspirin. “Of course he paid cash.” He tossed the bottle back into the drawer. “I’m afraid to ask. How many blankets did he buy, Ed?”

“Ten.”

Chase hissed. “Ten?”

Bile rose in Daniel’s throat. “We need to get his photo posted to all units.”

“Already done,” Ed said. “But the kid didn’t look like he had anything to hide. I bet he’s a stooge, probably hired to buy the blankets. It’s not illegal to buy blankets.”

“He can still tell us who hired him,” Chase said tightly. “Is that it? We’ve got a press conference in five.”

“No. There’s more.” Ed put the small plastic bag containing the single hair on Daniel’s desk. “This is the hair you got off of this morning’s vic.”

“Claudia Barnes,” Chase said.

“It’s not hers.”

“We knew that,” Daniel said. “Claudia was a blonde. This hair is brown.”

“I ran it through the colorimeter.” From a paper bag, Ed took a fake ponytail, looped in a teardrop shape. “I pulled the closest match from our hair samples.”

Daniel picked up the sample with a frown, immediately seeing the significance. It was caramel colored. Just like Alex’s. “Fuck.”

“I swear to God, Danny, I took one look at Alex Fallon out there and did a double-take. He’s left a hair, if not her color, then damn close.”

Daniel passed the sample to Chase, keeping his fury tamped down. “This guy’s playing with us.” And with Alex.

Chase held the single hair up to the light. “Is it possible this is a fake hair, like from your ponytail sample? I’ve seen them in the drugstore where they sell hair color.”

“No, it’s definitely real and definitely human,” Ed said. “And it’s old.”

Dread settled in the pit of Daniel’s stomach. “How old?”

“One of guys in the lab is a hair expert. He thinks at least five years. Maybe ten.”

“Or thirteen?” Daniel asked and Ed shrugged.

“Maybe. I can test it, but once I run the test there won’t be a lot left for DNA.”

“Run the DNA first,” Chase said grimly. “Daniel, get Alex to give us some hair. I want them tested side by side.”

“I’ll have to tell her why.”

“No, you don’t. Tell her anything you want, just don’t tell her why. Not yet at least.”

Daniel frowned. “She’s not a suspect, Chase.”

“No, but she’s involved. If it’s a match, then tell her. If not, why upset her?”

That at least made sense. “All right.”

Chase straightened the knot of his tie. “Now, it’s showtime. I’ll field the questions.”

“Wait a minute,” Daniel protested. “I’m lead. I can field my own damn questions.”

“I know, but remember what I said about hearing ‘Vartanian’ and ‘Dutton’ in the same sentence. The brass wants me to face the press. Nothing else changes.”

“Fine,” Daniel muttered, then stopped when he got to Leigh’s desk. Alex was gone. “Where is she?” He shoved his hand into his pocket. He still had her car keys. She could have taken a cab, but surely she wasn’t that stupid. If-

“Relax, Danny,” Leigh said. “She’s in the hall making a phone call.”

Daniel felt a spike of tension in his neck ebb. “Thanks.”

“Daniel.” Chase was holding open the door. “Let’s go.”

Daniel could see her at the end of the hall as he, Chase, and Ed walked the other way. She was on her cell phone, bowed over, hugging herself with one arm. Her shoulders were shaking and with a jolt he realized she was crying.

He stopped, the pressure on his chest making it hard to breathe. After all she’d been through in the last two days, he hadn’t seen her cry. Not once.

“Daniel.” Chase grasped his shoulder and yanked. “We’re late. Let’s go. I need you focused. You can talk to her later. She can’t go anywhere, you took her keys.”

Ed shot him a look of surprised sympathy and Daniel realized everything he felt must be showing on his face. He carefully drew a blank expression and left Alex crying in the hall.

He’d do his job. He’d track down this killer who taunted them with keys and clues. He had to make sure no other women were found in ditches. He had to keep Alex safe.

Atlanta , Tuesday, January 30, 2:30 p.m.

“I’m so sorry, Miss Fallon,” Nancy Barker said. The county social worker sounded almost as devastated as Alex felt. “I don’t know what else to tell you at this point.”

“Are you sure?” Alex insisted. She wiped her face with the back of her bandaged hand. She hated the weakness of tears. They never helped. But she’d gone for days expecting to hear Bailey was dead. She hadn’t expected… this. Not this. And on top of the events of the day… Alex supposed everyone had a limit and she’d reached hers.

“I know this is hard, but Bailey was an addict. Heroin addicts have a much higher recidivism rate. You’re a nurse. I’m not telling you anything you don’t know.”

“I know. I also know everyone in Bailey’s recent life has sworn she’d gone clean.”

“Maybe she was under stress and just couldn’t take it anymore. Addicts go back to the life for all kinds of reasons. All I know is that she called the office and left a message for, quote, ‘whoever has my baby, Hope Crighton.’ The social worker who took the call knew Hope was one of my cases and forwarded the message to me.”

“So nobody physically talked to Bailey.” The initial shock was wearing off and Alex’s mind was working again. “When did she leave the message?”

“Today, about an hour ago.”

An hour ago. Alex looked at her bandaged hands. No coincidences, Daniel had said. “Can you forward that message to my phone?”

“I don’t know. We have an internal phone system. Why?”

Alex heard the mild disapproval in the social worker’s voice. “Miss Barker, I’m not trying to be difficult or in denial, but two women from Bailey’s hometown are dead. You can’t blame me for being suspicious of a phone call allegedly from Bailey that says she’s really run off and left Hope to the system.”

“Two women?” Barker said. “I read about the first woman, the congressman’s daughter being from Dutton, but now there’s another?”

Alex bit her lip. “That’s not public knowledge yet.” Although Daniel was off at his press conference by now, so it would be soon. “You can understand my apprehension.”

“I suppose so,” Barker said thoughtfully. “Well, I don’t know how to forward a message outside our phone system, but I can have it recorded it for you.”

“That would be wonderful. Can I pick up the tape today?”

“It might be tomorrow. Bureaucracy, you know.”

She sounded doubtful, so Alex pushed harder. “Miss Barker, right before that call came into your office, someone tried to run me down in the street. If someone hadn’t pushed me out of the way, I could be dead right now.”

“Oh my God.”

“Now you understand.”

“Oh my God,” Barker repeated, stunned. “Hope could be in danger.”

The thought of anyone touching Hope left Alex cold. Still she kept her voice confident. “I’m requesting police protection. If I have to, I’ll move Hope out of town.”

“Who’s with Hope right now?”

“My cousin.” Meredith had been exceedingly upset by the news of the near miss that afternoon. Alex had been on the phone with Meredith when the call from Barker had beeped through. “She’s a child psychologist from Cincinnati. Hope’s in good hands.”

“Fine, then. I’ll call you once I’ve recorded this message.”

Alex called Meredith back, bracing herself for a tirade. She was not disappointed.

“You’re coming home with me,” Meredith stated, bypassing any greeting.

“No, I’m not. Mer, that call was from the social worker. Somebody claiming to be Bailey called saying she’d just come off a high and wanted to be sure someone had Hope, that they should keep her, that she was never coming back.”

“Maybe it was Bailey, Alex.”

“The call was placed an hour ago, right about when that car tried to mow me down. Somebody wants me to stop looking for Bailey.”

Meredith was quiet for a few beats, then she sighed. “Did you tell Vartanian?”

“Not yet. He’s at a press conference. I’m going to request protection, but I don’t know if they’ll give it to me. Maybe you should take Hope to Ohio with you.”

“No, not yet. We may have something. I was afraid to turn the TV on today because they keep talking about the murders. So I plugged the organ in and played ‘Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.’ One-fingered, nothing fancy. Just to keep myself sane.”

“And then?”

“And then Hope got this strange look on her face. It was creepy, Alex.”

“Where is Hope now?”

“Playing the damn organ like she has been for the last two hours. I’m on the front porch. I had to have a break or I was going to scream. She picked out this tune. Six notes. She keeps playing it again and again. I’m half expecting her to start building mountains out of mashed potatoes any minute.”

“What’s the tune?” Alex listened with a frown as Meredith hummed it. “I’ve never heard it before. Have you?”

“No, but if the organ is anything like the coloring, we’ll be hearing it for a long time.”

Alex thought for a minute. “Do me a favor. Call her preschool and ask if they’ve heard it. Maybe it’s a song they sing in school.”

“Good idea. Did the preschool mention Hope’s being autistic?”

“I haven’t talked to them yet. They were on my list for this afternoon.”

“I’ll ask when I call. If these repetitive behaviors are endemic to Hope versus being trauma-induced, then I’m going about things the wrong way. When will you be back?”

“Whenever Daniel comes back. He’s got my car keys.”

Meredith snorted a chuckle. “I suppose that’s one way to get you to listen.”

“I listen,” Alex protested.

“Then you do whatever the hell you want to do.” She sighed. “I can’t go back.”

“What do you mean? Are you staying?”

“For a few more days. If I leave and something happens, I’d never forgive myself.”

“I can take care of myself, Meredith,” Alex said, torn between gratitude and annoyance. “I’ve been taking care of myself for years.”

“No you haven’t,” Meredith said quietly. “You’ve been taking care of everyone else for years. You don’t take care of Alex. Come back soon. I need a break from this tune.”

Tuesday, January 30, 2:30 p.m.

The Jag rolled up beside him and the window slid down, revealing a very angry man. “What the fuck happened?”

He’d known he was in trouble when he’d gotten a call to meet in the middle of the day. It was a remote location and neither of them would leave their vehicles, but the sheer risk of being seen together…

“You said to make her stop asking about Bailey. My guy said she went straight to the county courthouse today. I’d told him if she got too close to make her stop.”

“And you left it up to ‘your guy’ to decide when and how to do that?”

“He definitely overplayed his hand. You’re right.”

“Goddamn straight, I’m right. Do you even know why she was in the courthouse?”

“No. My guy couldn’t follow her in. He… would have been recognized.”

Dark eyes rolled. “Oh, for God’s sake. You hired some ape with a fucking wanted poster hanging in the county courthouse? God, this town is filled with fuck-ups. I told you I would deal with Bailey.”

He jutted out his chin, unwilling to be lumped with the town fuck-ups. “You’ve had her for almost a week. You said you’d have the goddamn key in two days. If you’d delivered your end, the stepsister never would have started all this poking around, because I would have delivered my end and Bailey Crighton would have already been found in a dumpster somewhere outside Savannah by now.”

His dark eyes flashed dangerously. “What you’ve done could blow up in somebody’s face and it sure as hell won’t be mine. Hell. If you’d planned to hire a felon, why not hire one with a little more finesse? A hit-and-run in downtown in the middle of the goddamn day? Your guy is beyond stupid. He’s a liability now. Get rid of him.”

“How?”

“I don’t care. Just do it. And don’t fuck it up. Then find out why Alex Fallon was at the courthouse today. All we need is her digging up trial transcripts.”

“She won’t find anything in the trial transcripts.”

“Yeah, and she was supposed to believe her stepsister was some strung-out junkie who skipped town, but she didn’t buy that, did she? I don’t trust what she’ll find.”

Because he also wasn’t sure what Alex Fallon would find, he turned his attention to the bigger failure. “So how will you handle Bailey Crighton?”

The man’s cobra smile raised the hair on his neck. “Bailey’s gone back on the juice.”

That actually surprised him. Bailey had been sober for five years. “Voluntarily?”

His sinister smile widened. “Now what fun would there have been in that? By tomorrow she’ll be begging for her next fix, just like old times. She’ll tell me what I want to know. But Bailey and her stepsister aren’t why I called you. I want to know what the fuck’s going on with these dead women?”

He blinked. “I thought…”

“You thought it was me? Shit. You’re a bigger idiot than I thought.”

His cheeks flushed hot. “Well, it’s not me or any of the others.”

“And you’re sure of this because…?”

“Bluto doesn’t have the balls to kill anybody and Igor’s just a whiny little bastard. He’s frothing at the mouth, calling Bluto, meeting him in the park at all hours in plain view of half the town. That boy’s gonna blow the whole damn thing out of the water.”

“You should have told me before now.” It was said softly, maliciously.

His stomach wrenched when he realized exactly what he’d done. “Wait a minute.”

His dark eyes became amused. “You’re in too deep, Sweetpea. You can’t back out.”

It was true. He was in way too deep. He licked his lips. “Don’t call me that.”

“The nicknames were your idea. It’s not my fault you don’t like yours.” The mocking smile disappeared. “You fool. You’re worried about a nickname when you don’t know who’s doing these women? You think Igor can blow us out of the water? You think Alex Fallon’s questions are a threat? Those are nothing compared to what these killings can do to us. The press has picked up on the connection. The Tremaine girl’s picture was all over the news last night. What do you know?”

His mouth went dry. “I thought it was some copycat at first. Maybe some wacko who read about it after all the news about what happened to Simon up north.”

“I don’t care what you thought. I asked what you know.”

“Claudia Silva was the second victim. She was found with a key tied around her toe.”

He stiffened. A match flared and cigarette smoke billowed from the Jag. “Has Daniel found Simon’s key yet?”

Simon’s key. The carrot with which Simon Vartanian taunted them all, even from his grave. His real grave this time. At least Daniel had gotten that right. “If he has, he hasn’t said anything.”

“He’s not going to tell you. Has he been back to his house?”

“Not since before the funeral.”

“And you’ve searched the house?”

“I’ve been through the old Vartanian place ten times.”

“Make it eleven.”

“He can get into the box without the key, you know.”

“Yeah, but he may not know about the box. The minute he finds a key, he’ll start looking for the box. If he hasn’t already. This asshole who’s killing the women knows about the key. He wants the cops to know about the key. So make sure Daniel doesn’t find Simon’s key.”

“He hasn’t been to the bank. I know that. But he is seeing the Fallon woman. Half the town saw him shoving his tongue down her throat on her front porch last night.”

Again the cobra smile. “You can work with that. After you take care of Igor.”

His blood went cold. “I’m not killing Rhett Porter.” He used Igor’s real name, hoping it would shock some reason back into the conversation. But he’d wasted his breath because the cobra smile just widened.

“Sure you will, Sweetpea.” The window rolled up and the Jag drove away.

And he sat there staring straight ahead, knowing he would, just like he had the last time he’d been told to kill. Because he was in way too deep. He had to kill Rhett Porter. He commanded his churning stomach to settle. After all, what was one more?

Atlanta , Tuesday, January 30, 3:25 p.m.

“And so the social worker is recording it for me,” Alex finished. Sitting in the chair in front of Daniel’s desk she glanced from Daniel to Chase Wharton, whose body language was tense, but whose face was carefully blank. From the corner of her eye she looked at Ed Randall, who regarded her with a scrutiny that made her feel as if she was on display.

Chase turned to Daniel. “Call Papadopoulos. Make sure that recording is made correctly so we can separate out any background noise.”

“Who is Papadopoulos?” Alex asked, twisting her fingers together. That they hadn’t even suggested that Bailey had really made the call made her nervous.

“Luke,” Daniel said. “You met him earlier. He’s the one who drove your car back.”

“Speaking of which,” Alex said, nearly flinching at the warning look Daniel blasted her way, “I need my keys back, Daniel. I can’t stay here all day. I need to talk to Hope’s preschool. She’s doing other weird things we don’t understand. And at some point I need to go through Bailey’s house. If Loomis’s office won’t do it, then I have to.”

Chase turned to Ed. “Get a team out to Bailey Crighton’s house. Go through everything. Alex, you’re welcome to join him if you like.”

Alex’s hands stilled in her lap as the breath backed up in her lungs and the screeching began. It was louder now. It was just the stress of the afternoon. Quiet. Quiet. She closed her eyes and concentrated. Grow up, Alex. It’s just a damn house. She looked up at Chase Wharton, resolute. “Thank you. I will.”

“I’ll get that team together,” Ed said. “Do you want to ride with me, Miss Fallon?”

She met Daniel’s stern glare. He was scared again, she thought. “I’d actually like to drive my own car, but I’d feel safer if I drove in front of you on the way out to Dutton. I think that would address Agent Vartanian’s concerns as well, wouldn’t it?”

She saw Ed’s lips twitch and decided she liked the man, even if he did stare at her strangely. “I’ll call you when I’m ready to go,” he said and closed the door behind him.

“Daniel’s told me about the child. What weird new thing is she doing?” Chase asked.

“She’s playing a tune on the old organ in the bungalow I’m renting. Same six notes over and over. Neither of us knows the tune.”

“Maybe Sister Anne knows it,” Daniel said thoughtfully. “We can ask her tonight when we take Hope back up to the shelter.”

Alex’s eyes widened. “I assumed you’d be too busy.”

He gave her a look of tolerant annoyance. “I may not be able to get down to your place for dinner, but we need to take Hope to see Sister Anne. If Hope saw something, we need to know. Bailey is connected to all this. She might even be an eyewitness.”

“I agree,” Chase said. “Miss Fallon, we’re arranging for police protection for you and your niece. It won’t be twenty-four-hour because we simply don’t have the resources, but we’ll have drive-bys. You’ll also have a list of all our cell phone numbers in case of an emergency. Do not hesitate to call us if you think you’re in danger.”

“I won’t. Thank you.” She stood up and held out her hand. “My keys?”

Jaw cocked, Daniel pulled her keys from his pocket. “Call me. And stay with Ed.”

“I’m not stupid, Daniel. I’ll be careful.” She turned at his office door. “My satchel?”

His blue eyes narrowed. “Don’t push your luck, Alex.”

“But you’ll bring it later?”

“Yeah, sure. Later.” He almost growled it.

“And Riley?”

One side of his mouth lifted. “And Riley.”

She smiled at him. “Thank you.”

“I’ll walk you out. This way.” He pulled her into a dark little hallway, tipped up her chin, and searched her face. “You were crying earlier. Are you really okay?”

Alex’s cheeks heated and she had to fight the urge to tug away from his probing gaze. “I had a bad couple of moments when I was talking to the social worker. You know, when the adrenaline crashed and I wasn’t thinking clearly. But I’m okay. Really.”

He brushed his thumb over her lower lip. Then his mouth was covering hers. A natural calm settled over her, despite the sudden pounding of her heart.

He lifted his head just far enough to let her catch her breath. “Are we on a camera somewhere?” she asked and felt him smile against her mouth.

“Probably. So let’s give them something to talk about.” And she forgot about the camera and even about breathing when he kissed her harder and hotter than anyone had before. Abruptly he pulled back, swallowing hard. “You should probably go now.”

She nodded unsteadily. “I probably should. I’ll see you later.” She turned to leave and flinched. “Ouch.” She rubbed her scalp and glared at his sleeve. “That hurt.”

He pulled a few strands of her hair from his button and kissed the top of her head. “The woman nearly gets flattened by a car and she complains about a little pulled hair.”

She chuckled. “I’ll see you tonight. Call if you do get busy.”

Chase was still in his office when he got back. Daniel slumped in his chair, aware of Chase’s openly curious appraisal. “Go ahead and tell me,” he said.

“Go ahead and tell you what?” Chase’s tone held mild amusement.

“I’m in too deep, I’m too emotionally invested, I’m moving too fast… take your pick.”

“How fast you move in your personal life is your business, Daniel. But I’m told that when it hits you, there’s not a lot you can do about it. So are you in too deep?”

“I have no idea. Right now I just want to keep her alive.” Feeling lower than dirt, Daniel laid the hairs from Alex’s head next to the hair swatch. “Damn. They’re close.”

Chase sat in one of Daniel’s chairs. “What did you tell her?”

Daniel scowled at him. “I didn’t.”

Chase’s eyed widened. “You just yanked it?”

“Not exactly. I used a little more finesse than that.” And if she found out, she’d be more hurt than just a stinging scalp. But he’d cross that bridge when he got there.

Chase’s shrug was restless. “You’ll find a way to tell her the truth when you have to. For now, like you said, let’s focus on keeping her alive by finding the guy who’s killed two women and copied a thirteen-year-old crime scene. I want to know why he’s doing this now. Is it just the publicity Dutton’s gotten in the last week?”

I’ll see you in hell, Simon. Daniel bit his lower lip and knew he had to speak the truth. “It has something to do with Simon.”

Chase narrowed his eyes. “I don’t think I want to hear this, do I?”

“No. But it might make a difference.” He told Chase about the letters Bailey’s brother had written and the visit from the army chaplain. I’ll see you in hell, Simon.

Chase frowned. “How long have you known about this, Daniel?”

Ten years. No, not true. Those pictures might have nothing to do with any of the murders, thirteen years ago or this week. You’re lying to yourself. “Since last night,” he said. “How Simon and Wade connect to these two murders, I don’t know.”

Tell him. But as soon as he did, he’d be off the case. He didn’t want to take the risk, so he told the only truth he absolutely knew. “I do know that Simon did not kill Janet or Claudia. Nor did he abduct Bailey or try to kill Alex.”

Chase blew out a breath. “Hell. I’m gonna give you some rope. Don’t hang yourself.”

Relief was a palpable thing. “I’m going to the Barneses’ condo. Their parking attendant told Mr. Barnes he saw Claudia’s Mercedes leave the garage last night, but she never came back. Maybe he ambushed her in the parking garage.”

“What about Janet Bowie’s car?”

“No hits on the APB. Leigh checked Janet’s credit card and found the company that rented her the minivan she drove to Fun-N-Sun on Thursday. She never brought it back. She dropped the kids at the school at seven-fifteen and called her boyfriend at eight-oh-six.”

“So there’s only a fifty-minute window of opportunity for the killer to abduct her. Where was she when he abducted her?”

Daniel sifted through the faxes Leigh had left on his desk while they’d been at the press conference. “Here’s something from the cell phone company. I had them triangulate the call Janet made to Lamar. She called him from a parking lot about a mile from the rental car place, which is about a thirty-minute drive from the school.”

“That leaves twenty minutes for him to grab her. So where and how? And where is the minivan? Did he dump it? Hide it?”

“And where is Janet’s car?” Daniel mused. “Did she leave it at the rental place when she picked up the van? Was the van delivered somewhere else? I’ll call and find out.”

Chase stood up and stretched. “I need some coffee. You want some?”

“Yeah, thanks. I’m running on only about an hour’s sleep.” Daniel looked up the number for the rental place, talked to the manager, and was hanging up when Chase came back with coffee and bags of cookies from the vending machine.

“Oatmeal or chocolate chip?” he asked.

“Chocolate.” Daniel caught the bag and tore it open with a grimace. “I have Luke’s mama’s leftovers in my fridge but I keep forgetting to bring them in.”

“We could steal Luke’s lunch.”

“He already ate it. Okay. Janet left her Z- 4 in front of the rental place early Thursday and when they came in on Friday morning it was gone. They’ve got a security camera on the parking lot. I’ll stop by and get the tapes for Thursday night into Friday morning.”

“Check out the area the wireless company pinpointed, too. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find there was a security camera wherever he grabbed her.”

“I will.” He munched the cookie, thinking. “Janet calls her boyfriend, most likely under duress. Today Bailey calls to say she’s skipped town and abandoned her child.”

“Can Alex identify Bailey’s voice once we get that message from Social Services?”

“She hasn’t talked to Bailey in five years, so I doubt it. I’ll check with the salon where Bailey worked. They’re most familiar with her voice.”

“It’s not looking good for Bailey,” Chase said. “She’s been gone five days now.”

“I know. But she’s the connection. Hopefully Ed will find something at her house. I called the army chaplain who visited yesterday, but I haven’t heard back from him.”

“You’re not gonna get anything out of the chaplain and you know it. Focus on getting something out of the little girl. Get her in to see Mary McCrady. If this kid has seen something, the sooner we pry it out of her the better.”

Daniel winced. Mary was their department psychologist. “It’s not like the kid’s a splinter or something, Chase.”

Chase rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean. Sensitize it up for Fallon, but I want the kid in Mary’s office tomorrow morning.” He went to the door, then turned, troubled. “When I heard what happened up in Philly, I thought whatever demons have been driving you ever since I’ve known you were finally dead. But they’re not, are they?”

Slowly Daniel shook his head. “No.”

“Have I given you enough rope to at least hog-tie ’em?”

Daniel chuckled in spite of himself. “Either that, or I’ll hang myself trying.”

Chase didn’t smile. “I won’t let you hang yourself. I don’t know what you think you have to prove, but you’re a good agent and I won’t let you sacrifice your career.” Then he was gone, leaving Daniel with a pile of paper and a few strands of Alex Fallon’s hair.

Get busy, Vartanian. The demons have a head start.