Scream For Me

Chapter Fourteen

Dutton, Wednesday, January 31, 6:15 a.m.

Can I get you some more coffee, Agent Hatton?” Alex asked. He sat at her table, calm and unrushed. His partner was gone, giving backup to Daniel.

Hatton shook his head. “No, ma’am. My wife only lets me have a cup a day.”

Alex lifted her brows. “You listen to your wife? Really? Very few men that come through the ER listen to their wives, which is why most of them end up in the ER.”

He nodded solemnly. “I listen to every word she says.”

Meredith scoffed from the kitchen. “But do you obey her?”

Hatton grinned. “I listen to every word she says.”

“I thought so,” Meredith said and filled his cup anyway.

Hatton saluted Meredith with his cup, then put it down on the table. “Hello there.”

Hope stood in the doorway of her bedroom staring at Hatton.

“This is Agent Hatton.” Alex took Hope by the hand. “Agent Hatton, my niece Hope.” Then Alex stared as Hope touched Hatton’s face where a soft gray beard grew.

Hatton leaned forward in his chair so Hope could reach him more easily. “Everyone says my beard makes me look like Santa,” he said. He opened his arms, and to Alex’s shock, Hope climbed into his lap. She stroked his beard with the flat of her palms.

Meredith uttered a small groan. “Not again.”

Alex looked at Hatton helplessly. “Hope’s had a tendency to fixate on things.”

“Well, she’s not hurtin’ a thing, so leave her alone for now,” Hatton said, forever endearing him to Alex.

Alex sat down at the table with them. “You have kids, Agent Hatton?”

“Six. All girls. Eighteen all the way down to eight.”

Meredith looked at the organ, then at Alex. “Maybe he knows what the song is.”

“I don’t want to get her started again,” Alex said, then sighed. “We have to try.”

“What song?” Hatton asked.

Meredith hummed it and Hatton frowned. “Sorry, ladies. I can’t help you.” He checked his watch. “Vartanian said you were meeting Dr. McCrady and the forensic artists this morning at eight. We should be getting a move on.”

Disappointed that he hadn’t recognized the song either, Alex stood up, her knees still stiff from her concrete slide the day before. “I have to walk Daniel’s dog.”

Hatton shook his head. “I’ll take the dog outside, Miss Fallon.” To Hope he said, “You’ve got to get ready. Little girls need time to primp.”

“He does have six daughters,” Meredith said wryly.

Hope pressed her hands to Hatton’s soft beard, her little face suddenly intense. “Pa-paw.” It was the first word she’d spoken, her voice small and sweet.

Hatton blinked once, then smiled at Hope. “Your pa-paw has a beard like mine?”

“Does he?” Meredith asked, and Alex tried to bring Craig Crighton’s face to mind.

Quiet. Close the door. When she could think, she shook her head. “He never had a beard that I remember.” She cupped Hope’s cheek. “Did you see your pa-paw?”

Hope nodded, her big gray eyes so sad Alex wanted to cry. But Alex made her mouth smile. “When, honey? When did you see your pa-paw?”

“Didn’t you say the nun at the shelter said Bailey had looked but hadn’t found him?” Meredith murmured.

“Sister Anne said she didn’t think Bailey had found him.” Alex frowned. “You know, Daniel never told me if he’d found Sister Anne. Or Desmond.”

“I know he called it in last night. I’ll check it while you two get ready,” Hatton said. He set Hope on her feet and tipped up her little chin. “Go with your aunt now,” he said, and Hope obediently put her hand in Alex’s.

“We have to keep him,” Meredith said, pointing to Hatton. “He’s got a way with her.”

“Or he needs to give us his magic wand,” Alex countered wryly, and Hope’s face shot up, suddenly panicked. Alex glanced at Meredith, then ignoring the protest of her knees, crouched to look Hope in the eye. “Sweetheart, what is the magic wand?”

But Hope said nothing, her face frozen, terrified. Alex wrapped her arms around her. “Baby,” she whispered into Hope’s golden curls, “what did you see?” But Hope said nothing and Alex’s heart sank. “Come on, sweetie. Let’s get your bath.”

Bernard , Georgia , Wednesday, January 31, 6:25 a.m.

“Agile sonofabitch,” Agent Koenig murmured behind Daniel.

Daniel watched Jim Woolf pull his way up into a tree. “You wouldn’t think he had it in him.” His jaw tightened as he looked through the trees at the ditch by the side of the road. “He took lots of pictures before he picked his tree. I don’t want to know who it is.”

“I’m sorry, Daniel.”

“Me, too.” In his pocket his cell phone vibrated. It was Chase. “We just got here,” he said. “Koenig and I. I haven’t checked the scene yet. How far out are you?”

“Not far. I used my lights. Go ahead and check it out. I’ll wait.”

Daniel pushed through the trees, cell phone still pressed to his ear, imagining Woolf’s stunned expression even as the man snapped his picture. He got to the edge of the ditch and stopped. “There’s another one,” he told Chase. “Brown wool blanket.”

Chase made an angry sound in his throat. “Then pull that damn idiot out of his tree and sit tight. I’m exiting the interstate now and CSU and the ME’s rig are on the way.”

Dutton, Wednesday, January 31, 6:45 a.m.

He pulled into his own driveway, relieved, exhausted, stiff in all the wrong places. But Kate was safe and that’s what counted. He had an hour to shower, eat, and pull himself together before he was due at Congressman Bowie’s for an update meeting.

There was tragedy, he thought, and there was politics. Sometimes they were one and the same. He stopped on his front porch to pick up the morning paper, and even though he’d been expecting the news, his heart sank. “Rhett,” he murmured. “You dumbass. I warned you.”

His front door opened and his wife stood there, hurt in her eyes. “You used to try to hide your late-night romps from the neighbors. Not to mention the children.”

He nearly laughed. After all the times she’d ignored his rolling in late from another woman’s bed, she’d picked today to confront him. The one time he wasn’t guilty.

Yes, you are. You need to tell Vartanian about the seven other women. It’s not enough to keep Kate safe. If one of them dies… it’s on your head.

His wife’s eyes narrowed in scrutiny. “You look like you slept in your clothes.”

“I did.” The words were out before he could stop them.

“Why?”

He couldn’t tell her. He didn’t love her. He wasn’t sure he ever had. But she was his wife and the mother of his children and he found he still had enough self-respect to admit her opinion of him mattered. He couldn’t tell her about Kate, about any of it.

So instead, he held out the paper. “Rhett’s dead.”

His wife drew a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry.”

She was. Because she was a decent person. She’d never liked Rhett, never understood their “friendship.” Ha. As if. More like a mutual self-preservation society. Keep your enemies close to your heart; then you’ll know if they’re about to double-cross you. It was valuable advice he’d received from his father once a long time ago.

His father had meant his political enemies. Not his supposed friends. But the advice worked just the same. “He… um… he ran off the road.”

She opened the door a little wider. “Come on in, then.”

He stepped over the threshold and looked into her face. She’d been a good wife all these years. He didn’t want to hurt her. He just never seemed to be able to stop himself. None of his affairs really meant anything, except the last one.

He still felt bad about the last one. Normally he just used women for sex. But he’d used Bailey Crighton to get information. She’d changed since her daughter was born. No longer was she the town slut they’d all had at one time or another.

She’d thought he cared, and on some level he had. Bailey had tried so hard to make a life for herself and Hope and now she was gone. He knew where she was and who had taken her. But he couldn’t say anything to help Bailey any more than he could help the other seven women targeted by a killer.

“I’ll fix you some eggs while you get showered and changed,” his wife said quietly.

“Thank you,” he said and her eyes widened. It occurred to him he hadn’t said that to her nearly often enough. But then, on the list of his many sins, being impolite didn’t seem to hold a candle to rape. Or the murder of the women he’d refused to help.

Atlanta , Wednesday, January 31, 8:45 a.m.

Daniel slumped in a chair at the team table. He dragged his hands down his face. He hadn’t even had time to shave. Thanks to Luke, he at least had a change of clothes.

Luke had given credit to Mama Papadopoulos, who’d called him every hour the evening before, fretting about “poor Daniel.” Luke had dropped off one of Daniel’s suits on his way to his own office. But Luke’s face had been drawn and weary and Daniel knew his friend had troubles of his own. He thought of the pictures Luke had to look at every day as he investigated the slime that peddled children on the Internet.

He thought about Alex. She’d been a child when Wade had assaulted her, whether she’d admit it or not. Primal rage flared within him and he was glad Wade Crighton was dead. Slime like Wade and the predators Luke chased did so much more than physically assault their victims. They stole their trust, their innocence.

Daniel thought of how Alex had looked the night before-vulnerable and fragile. He shuddered where he sat. The sex had been the most amazing of his life. Being with her had rocked him to his very foundation. The thought of losing her scared him to death.

He had to make this insanity stop. Now. So get to work, Vartanian.

Chase, Ed, and Hatton and Koenig joined him at the table, carrying cups of coffee and looking grim. “Here,” Chase said, giving him a cup. “It’s strong.”

Daniel took a sip and winced. “Victim three is Gemma Martin, twenty-one. We’re three for three. All three grew up in Dutton, all graduated from Bryson Academy, same year. Gemma lived with her grandmother, who got worried when she didn’t come down for breakfast. She found Gemma’s bed unslept in and called us.”

“We ID’d her with her prints,” Ed said. “Everything at the scene was identical to the others, down to the key and the hair wrapped around her toe.”

“I want to know where he grabbed her,” Chase said. “Where was she last night?”

“Gemma told her grandmother that she wasn’t feeling well and was going to bed early, but the grandmother told me that Gemma often lied. Her Corvette is missing from her garage. We’ll start with her usual haunts.”

“What about the tapes from where Janet rented her minivan?” Chase countered.

“I dropped them off at CSU when I brought Hope to see Mary last night. Ed?”

“I had one of the techs review the tapes overnight,” Ed said and slid a photo across the table. “We got very lucky. Look familiar?”

Daniel picked up the photo. “It’s the guy who bought the blankets.”

“He made no attempt to hide his face this time either. He had the key to Janet’s Z.”

“And we have no idea who he is?” Chase demanded.

“We’ve got his face taped to the visor of every squad car in the city, Chase,” Ed said. “The next step is to flash his picture on the TV news.”

Daniel looked at Chase. “If we do that, he could go under.”

“I think that’s a chance we have to take,” Chase said. “Do it. What’s next?”

“Yearbooks,” Daniel said. “We need to track down the women in the pictures.”

“Already started,” Chase said. “I’ve got Leigh calling every high school in a twenty-mile radius of Dutton to get their yearbooks from thirteen years ago.”

Ed sat back, puzzled. “Why high school yearbooks from thirteen years ago? Janet, Claudia, and Gemma would have been nine years old thirteen years ago.”

“I’m getting to that.” From his briefcase Daniel pulled Simon’s pictures and told the others the version of the story he and Chase had agreed upon the night before.

“Daniel had surrendered the pictures to the police up in Philly,” Chase said. “The detective on the case up there was good enough to have them scanned and e-mailed to us first thing this morning. The originals are being couriered down.”

Daniel felt bad about Vito Ciccotelli jumping through the hoop of scanning and e-mailing the photos, but he’d been completely honest with Vito last night when he’d called him. Vito had offered to scan the pictures himself. Daniel hadn’t needed to ask.

Vito had rejected any offer of thanks, saying Daniel had given him something more precious-he’d helped Vito save his girlfriend Sophie’s life. Daniel thought of Alex and understood how Vito viewed the saving of his Sophie as the all-trumping act.

Ed shook his head. “Okay. So Simon had these pictures, including one of Alicia Tremaine and another of the waitress who was killed last night, Sheila Cunningham.”

“Yes. Alex was able to identify four of the others. One is dead, suicide. The others we have to match to girls from the local schools. That’s why I want the yearbooks.”

Ed blew out a breath. “You know how to shake things up, Vartanian.”

“I sure don’t mean to,” Daniel murmured. “What else do we have?”

Hatton rubbed his beard absently. “That nun from the shelter. Sister Anne.”

Daniel’s stomach turned over. “Please don’t tell me she’s dead.”

“She’s not dead,” Hatton said. “But she’s close. The uniforms who went to check on her last night didn’t find her at the shelter and she didn’t answer her door at home. They didn’t get the message that this woman’s life might be in danger, only that you were looking for her. They didn’t go in her apartment last night.”

“And this morning?” Daniel asked grimly.

“When I called I impressed on them the importance of this matter.” Hatton’s voice was still calm, but his eyes were not. “They busted open the door and found her. She’d been beaten badly. Looks like somebody came through her window. She was taken to County about an hour ago. They told me she’s unconscious, but that’s all I know.”

“Does Alex know?” Daniel asked.

“Not yet. I thought you might want to tell her.”

Daniel nodded, dreading it. “I’ll tell her. What about the hairdresser, Desmond?”

“He’s fine. He’d had no visits, phone calls, no problems.”

“At least I don’t have to give her two pieces of bad news.”

“So…” Chase drummed his fingers on the tabletop. “Our only witness to anything is one four-year-old girl who won’t talk.”

“Hope’s with McCrady and the forensic artist now,” Daniel said.

“She talked,” Hatton said. “One word anyway. She called me ‘Pa-paw.’ Apparently he has a beard like mine.”

Daniel frowned. “Then Bailey did find him.”

“Does McCrady know this?” Chase demanded.

“Yep.” Hatton looked at Daniel. “There’s also something about a magic wand.”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Chase muttered.

“Chase,” Daniel said, exasperated. “What about a magic wand?” he asked Hatton.

“Miss Fallon said that the two times they’d said ‘magic wand’ Hope stopped what she was doing and looked afraid. Neither Miss Fallon knew what it meant. I think we should look for Bailey’s father. I can scour the streets if you want. I pulled Craig Crighton’s last driver’s license photo. It’s fifteen years old, but it’s all we’ve got.”

“He hasn’t got his license renewed in fifteen years?” Daniel asked.

“It expired two years after Alicia died,” Hatton told him. “You want me to track him?”

“Yeah. Thanks. What else?”

“What about our tree-climbing Woolf?” Koenig asked.

Daniel shook his head. “I’ve checked all the devices we have warrants for to see when he got the call about Gemma, but there have been no new calls. What I want to know is how he got the story on Rhett Porter.”

“The car salesman whose car ran off the road last night,” Chase said. “Connected?”

“This wreck happened down off of US-19, more than seventy miles from Dutton. Nobody saw Porter go off the road. It was reported by a motorist who passed by after the car was already incinerated and the fire was mostly burned out.”

“How did anybody know it was Porter?” Ed asked, looking at the picture on the front page of the Dutton Review. “I can’t imagine there would have been much body left.”

“They haven’t actually identified the body yet,” Daniel answered. “They’re hoping to use dental records. But Porter was a car salesman and he drove test models using his magnetic dealer plates. His plate flew off the car as it was rolling down the embankment and that’s how he was identified.”

“So how did Woolf know?” Chase asked, and Daniel shook his head in disgust.

“Don’t know yet. According to what Woolf told me this morning when I yanked his sorry ass out of that tree, Porter’s wife said he’d been upset the last week. And everybody knew the Lincoln that rolled was the model Porter drove. But as for how Woolf arrived on the scene just in time to snap this picture… Woolf refused to reveal his source and unless he communicated in a way we’re tracking, we got nothin’.”

“So other than the fact that Rhett Porter lived in Dutton, was upset, and the Woolf connection, what else is there to connect him to these three murders?” Chase asked.

“He went to school with Wade Crighton and Simon. Alex remembers him being Wade’s friend. And he was the oldest brother of the two boys that found Alicia’s body.”

Chase groaned. “Daniel.”

Daniel shrugged. “I’m just sayin’ the facts. Plus, don’t discount the fact that Jim Woolf was there at the crash site. I asked the field office down in Pike County to keep tabs on the investigation. I want every inch of that car examined. I’d also like a full-time tail on Jim Woolf. He hasn’t done anything I can arrest him for yet, but I know he will.”

Daniel drew a breath, not liking what he had to say next. “And once Leigh gets the yearbooks, we need to figure out who else went to school with Wade, Simon, and Porter. The rapists in Simon’s pictures could all be guys from Dutton.”

“Somebody’s nervous,” Hatton said in his quiet way. “They got sloppy when they tried to run Miss Fallon down. It looks like they may have done a better job with Porter.”

“Looks like.” Daniel turned to Ed. “Bailey’s house and the pizza parlor. Anything?”

“We didn’t find any more at Bailey’s, certainly nothing to point to where Hope was when she saw Bailey taken. We have matched Bailey’s blood type to the blood we found soaked into the ground. We took some hair we found in a brush in the bathroom. We’ll do a PCR, but I’m pretty sure it’s Bailey’s blood.”

“And the pizza parlor?”

“We took prints off the gunman and we’re running them through AFIS today. We’ll also want to get the officer who chased that car that tried to hit Alex yesterday,” Ed added. “See if he can make a positive ID on either the car or the shooter.”

“I can take that,” Koenig said.

Daniel noted all their next steps in his notebook. “Thanks. I’m going to interview the rape victims from thirteen years ago. I’ll want a female agent to go with me.”

“Take Talia Scott,” Chase said. “She’s good at that kind of interview.”

Daniel nodded. “Will do. Once Leigh gets the yearbooks from Bryson Academy, have her get me the list of every woman who went to school with Janet, Claudia, and Gemma. We need to figure out why the killer picked them to re-enact Alicia’s murder. Maybe one of the classmates can help us tie them to Alicia or the other victims.”

“We should warn them, too,” Ed said, “if they haven’t already taken precautions.”

“I’ll take care of warning them,” Chase said. “We’ll have to clear the communication through channels. We don’t want to start a panic and we don’t have the manpower to give all the potential victims police protection.”

Daniel stood up. “Then let’s go. We meet back here at six.”

Atlanta , Wednesday, January 31, 9:35 a.m.

“Alex, will you sit down?”

Alex stopped pacing to stare at Meredith’s reflection in the one-way glass. Meredith sat behind her calmly working on her laptop, while Alex was a bundle of nerves. On the other side of the glass Hope sat with child psychologist Mary McCrady and a forensic artist who seemed to have the patience of Job.

“How can you be so calm? They’re not getting anything.”

“I was a wreck yesterday. It was that music.” She shuddered. “Today, no music and I’ve had my run. I’m good.” She looked at Hope, who was refusing to meet either the psychologist’s eyes or the artist’s. “They just started, Alex. Give Hope some time.”

“We don’t have time.” Alex gripped her fingers, wringing them. “Bailey’s been gone seven days. Four women are dead. We don’t have time to wait.”

“And your pacing won’t change that.”

Alex rolled her eyes. “I know,” she gritted furiously. “Don’t you think I know?”

Meredith set her laptop aside and slung her arm around Alex’s shoulders. “Alex…”

Alex leaned her head against Meredith’s shoulder. “They found another victim,” she murmured, feeling… powerless. For a few moments, with Daniel on the sofa, she’d felt powerful, important. Now, reality intruded and she knew how helpless she really was.

“And if it had been Bailey, Daniel would have told you.”

“I know. But, Mer… three women and Sheila. And Reverend Beardsley. This is worse than any nightmare I’ve ever had.”

Meredith hugged Alex harder and together they watched Hope through the glass. When the door behind them opened, they spun around as Daniel closed the door behind him.

Alex’s pulse quickened and her heart lifted at the sight of him. But his mouth didn’t smile and she knew what he had to say would not be good. She braced herself for the worst, although she wasn’t even sure what could be worse.

“I don’t have much time,” he murmured. “But I need to talk to you.”

“You want me to leave?” Meredith asked, and Daniel shook his head.

“No need.” He squeezed Alex’s upper arms. “I don’t how to tell you this, so I’ll just tell you. Sister Anne is in the hospital. She was beaten during the night. It’s not good.”

Alex’s knees buckled and she lowered herself to a chair, suddenly sapped. “Oh, no.”

He crouched so that he looked up into her face. “I’m sorry, honey,” he said softly. He took her hands, warming them. “We sent a CSU team to check out her apartment.”

She swallowed. “And Desmond?”

“He’s okay.”

She sighed, relief and fear combined. “Sister Anne. My God.”

He squeezed her hands. “Alex, it’s not your fault.”

“I feel so helpless.”

“I know,” he whispered and she could see his eyes were haunted, too. He cleared his throat. “But I hear Hope called Hatton ‘Pa-paw.’ ”

Alex nodded, the violent screeching in her mind at any mention of Craig Crighton no longer taking her by surprise. “We think Bailey found her father. Maybe she gave him the letter Wade had written.”

“Hatton’s going to try to track him down today.”

Alex used what little energy she had left to push the screeching back. “I’ll go, too.”

Daniel rose, a forbidding frown on his face. “No. It’s too dangerous.”

“He won’t know what Craig looks like.”

“He’s got his driver’s license picture.”

“I need to go, Daniel.” She grabbed his arm, needing to make him understand. “Every time someone mentions his name, it starts in my head. He’s one of my triggers. I need to see him. I need to understand why.”

His eyes bored into hers and his face went stern. “I need you to be safe.”

“I need to make this stop,” she gritted through her teeth. “I need to find out why I’m so afraid of him. I need to know if he knows who took Bailey.” She pointed at the glass and her hand shook. “Hope hasn’t spoken in a week. I need to know what happened.”

He tugged at her chin so that she met his eyes. “Then or now, Alex?” he asked.

“Both. You said I could trust Hatton. If I’m with him I’ll be safe. Don’t make me stay.” She grabbed his arm harder. “Daniel, please. I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

He held her gaze another long minute while a storm raged in his eyes. Then he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “If Hatton’s okay with it, I won’t stop you. I have it on good authority that you’re old enough to make your own decisions.”

Her lips curved sadly and he kissed her mouth tenderly. “Thank you, Daniel.”

He pulled her to him, hard, then let her go. “I have to change my clothes. I’m going to try to find the women you remembered from the pictures. You call me,” he said fiercely, “every hour. If I don’t answer, leave me a voicemail. Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“I should be with you when you talk to him,” he said.

She leaned up and pecked his stubbly cheek. “I’ll be fine. I’ll call you. I promise.”

“Daniel.” Meredith leaned against the wall, watching them. “You said we could think about a safe house for Hope.”

Daniel nodded. “I can make that happen today.”

“For Hope and Meredith,” Alex countered.

Meredith’s look shouted disagreement, but she nodded. “Alex won’t be alone?”

“No,” Daniel said, his voice again fierce, as was his expression. “I’ll make sure of it.”

One side of Meredith’s mouth lifted. “Somehow, I’m sure you will,” she said dryly.

“That’s the first thing I’ve felt comfortable about in days.” He started to walk away, but Alex held him back.

“Daniel, the new victim. Who is she?”

“Gemma Martin. Did you know her?”

“No. I know the Martin name, of course, but I never would have babysat for them. The Martins had nannies and butlers. She was the same age as the other two?”

He nodded. “The other two lived in Atlanta, but Gemma lived here with her grandmother in Dutton. The school seems to be the only link between them so far.” He covered her mouth in one last hard kiss. “Don’t forget to call me.”

“Every hour,” Alex said dutifully. “I promise.” She thought about what he was about to do, the women he was about to talk to. “Good luck.”

He gave her a curt nod, then was gone.

For a moment there was only silence, then Meredith spoke. “So, now you know.”

Alex fixed her eyes on Hope through the glass. “Know what?” But she knew.

“That thinking about Craig Crighton is one thing that triggers the screams.”

Alex swallowed, too weary to shove the screams back again. “I’ve always known there was something about Craig. I never wanted to know what it was.”

“Alex… did Bailey’s father molest you?”

Reflected in the glass, Alex watched her own head wag back and forth in slow motion. “I don’t think so. But I don’t know. Every time I’ve tried to remember…” She closed her eyes. “But now the screams won’t go away. I can’t make them go away.”

“Alex, what do you remember about the day we took you home, away from Dutton?”

Alex leaned her forehead against the glass. “I remember the horrible old women who were talking about me and Alicia. Aunt Kim bawling you out because you let them.”

“And then?”

“He came.” She made herself say his name. “Craig. With Bailey. And Wade. He argued with Kim. He wanted to keep me. Said he loved me. Said I called him ‘daddy.’ ” The word stuck in her throat. Tasted bad on her tongue.

“But you hadn’t.”

“No. Never. He wasn’t my father. He was Bailey’s father. Always.”

Meredith said nothing, patiently waiting. Alex turned her face so that the glass was cool against her hot cheek. “He was often harsh with us, me and Alicia. He said Mama spoiled us. He may have been right. For so long it was just the three of us after my real dad died. But you’re asking if Craig… if he made us have sex with him. No. I don’t remember anything like that. I think I would remember.”

“Maybe not.” Meredith’s voice was calm. “What else do you remember about that day, Alex? That day we took you from the hospital and brought you home to Ohio?”

Alex opened her eyes. Stared at her clenched fist. “More pills.” She pivoted her forehead on the glass so she could look at Meredith, a memory shoving its way through the cacophony inside her mind. “You took them from me.”

“I didn’t know what to do about them. I was a sheltered little bookworm. I’d never even seen drugs before. You terrified me, sitting in that hospital, staring at nothing.”

“Like Hope is now.”

“Like a lot of people do after a trauma,” Meredith soothed. “Dad took you from the hospital wheelchair and put you in the car. Then you asked for water. We were so thrilled you’d said anything… Mom gave you the water and we started driving. And I saw you peeking into your fist. So I watched you. I let you think you were alone and when you tried to take them, I took them from you. And you never said a word.”

“I hated you that day,” Alex whispered.

“I know. I could see it in your eyes. You didn’t want to live and I didn’t want to let you die. You meant too much to my mom at that point. You were all she had left of Aunt Kathy. There had been so much violence. I couldn’t let you do it.”

“So you came to my room every day after school and sat with me. You didn’t want me to finish the job.”

“Not on my watch. And then, little by little, you came back to us.”

Alex’s eyes stung. “You all saved me.”

“My parents loved you. I still do.” Meredith’s voice trembled and she cleared her throat. “Alex, do you remember where you got those pills?”

She tried to think. Tried to focus on the quiet. “No. I remember looking into my hand and there they were. I remember not caring where they’d come from.”

“All three of the Crightons hugged you before we took you away.”

Alex swallowed. “I know. That I remember.”

“I’ve always wondered if one of them gave you the pills.”

Alex pushed away from the glass, suddenly cold. “Why would they?”

“I don’t know. But now that we know about Wade and Simon… and Alicia… we have to consider it. It could be why you’ve always had this reaction to Craig’s name.”

Alex controlled her flinch. “You always knew?”

“Yes. I always figured you’d deal with it when you were able to deal with it. The easiest thing was just not to say his name. But now… we have to. We have to know. For Bailey and for Hope and for you.”

“And for Janet and Claudia and Gemma,” Alex added. “And Sheila and all those other girls.” A wave of sadness hit her hard. “So many lives, ruined.”

“You still have your life, Alex. And now you have Hope. Bailey turned her life around for Hope. Don’t let her down now.”

“I won’t. I’ll find Craig and I’ll find out what he knows.” She clenched her teeth. “And I’ll go into that house. And up the stairs. Even if it kills me.” She winced. “Sorry.”

“Daniel told me about the attack you had on the stairs. Dr. McCrady and I were talking last night about using a form of hypnosis with Hope, to try to get past the wall she’s built in her mind. As her guardian, you’ll need to sign the release forms.”

“Of course.”

“And then I want to do the same thing with you.”

Alex drew a breath. “In the house?”

Meredith cupped Alex’s cheek, determination in her eyes. “Don’t you think it’s time?”

Alex nodded. “Yes. It’s time.”