Chapter Eighteen

Dutton, Wednesday, January 31, 10:00 p.m.

It was, Alex thought, surreal. Now that it was over, now that she knew…

But perhaps on some level she’d always known.

She looked over at Daniel, who drove from Bailey’s house toward Main Street with both hands clutching the wheel in a white-knuckled grip. He’d been stealing what he probably thought were surreptitious glances at her since he’d put her in the car and buckled her in with such gentleness she wanted to weep.

He had been. Weeping. She could see it in his eyes the moment she’d walked out of the house with Mary McCrady straight into his arms. He’d held her so tight… and she’d clung, needing him. Meredith had still been crying as she waited to wrap Alex in her arms. She’d begged forgiveness, when there was nothing to forgive.

It just was. And had always been. She just hadn’t wanted to remember.

Now she remembered, every last second of it, up until Crighton grabbed her by the collar and the world had gone black. The next thing she knew she’d been in the hospital, her stomach pumped of the tranquilizers the police told her she’d taken.

But she didn’t remember doing that. Before, she hadn’t questioned. Now…

How could I not?

She might never know. All she knew was that her mother had not taken her own life. At the same time, she’d had in her hands a weapon that could have saved her life.

That was the image that haunted Alex the most.

“She just stood there,” she murmured. “She had the gun in her hand and she just stood there until it was too late. If she’d fired, she might be alive right now.”

Daniel’s throat worked as he swallowed hard. “Sometimes people freeze. It’s hard to know what you’ll do in that situation. But it’s hard not to blame them after the fact.”

“I feel a little… detached, you know?”

“Mary said you would.”

She studied his profile. He was tired and worn. “Are you all right?”

He huffed a chuckle. “You’re asking me?”

“I’m asking you.”

“I… I don’t know, Alex. I’m angry and I’m… sad. I feel so helpless. I want to make this all go away for you, but I can’t.”

She laid her hand on his arm. “No, you can’t. But it’s awfully nice of you to want to.”

“Nice.” He drew a breath. “I’m not feeling very nice right now.”

She tugged his hand from the wheel, then brought it to her cheek. It felt good there. Solid and warm and safe. “At the beginning I panicked. I couldn’t think of a safe place to go and I thought, ‘What if we went to all this trouble and Mary can’t hypnotize me?’ ”

“I know. I wondered where you’d finally gone. I hoped it was someplace nice.”

She rubbed her cheek against his hand. “There was a moment this morning, after we’d… you know… finished. I looked up at you looking down at me and thought it might have been the most wonderful moment of my life. That’s where I went.”

His fingers tightened around hers. “Thank you.”

She kissed the back of his hand. “You’re welcome.”

They arrived at her bungalow, passing the unmarked GBI vehicle parked on the street. Meredith had left Bailey’s house with the two agents who would take her and Hope to the safe house after she’d gathered their things. One of the agents sat in the backseat, guarding Hope as she slept.

Daniel came around to open her door, then pulled her to her feet and into an embrace so tight, so huge, that Alex wished she could just stand there with him forever. She slipped her arms under his coat, around his waist, and held on. His heart was thundering beneath her ear and she understood she’d affected him on a level that was entirely new. Unfamiliar ground, he said… Could it have been only two days before?

Alex felt like she’d lived a lifetime in those two days.

Daniel pushed her hair away from her face, his lips grazing her cheek, making her shiver. Then he whispered in her ear, husky and hot. “This morning, Alex, what we did was not you know. We made love. And I’m not even close to being finished.” He tipped up her chin and pressed a hard fast kiss to her mouth. “If that’s okay with you.”

This was the bright light at the end of the tunnel. They had a chance to make something good out of so much darkness. “It is.”

“Then let’s go in.” He pulled away with a grimace. “I forgot all about Riley today. I’ve never left him alone so long before. He may have had an accident in your house.”

She smiled up at him. “It’s okay. I have renter’s insurance.”

His arm wrapped possessively around her, they walked to the front porch. Then as one, their steps slowed. Meredith stood in the middle of the living room, her arms crossed over her chest, scanning the room with weary futility. Everything had been ripped apart-drawers dumped, crayons littered the floor, and the sofa where they’d made love had been slashed, the stuffing everywhere.

“I don’t think my renter’s insurance will cover this,” Alex murmured.

Meredith looked up, her eyes narrowed. “Somebody was looking for something.”

Daniel stiffened. “Where’s Riley? Riley!” He ran into Hope’s room, Alex on his heels. The other agent was in there surveying a similar state of disaster. “Where’s my-?”

The agent pointed down where only a tail could be seen sticking out from under the bed, wagging like a metronome in slow motion. Daniel heaved a sigh of relief as he gently pulled Riley out. Riley gazed up with his sad basset eyes and Daniel cupped the dog’s head in both hands, scratching behind his ears. “What happened to you, boy?”

“I found a bowl on the floor in the bathroom, under the window,” the agent said. “The window was open and the bowl still had a little canned dog food in it.”

“I left a bowl of dry food in the kitchen. Riley can’t have canned food. It’s bad for his stomach.” Daniel’s jaw clenched. “Whoever did this drugged him.”

Alex checked Riley’s eyes. “He looks dazed. Would he have barked at an intruder?”

“Loud enough to wake the dead,” Daniel answered. “We need to get the food in that bowl tested.”

“Well, there’s quite a mess in the bathroom,” the agent said. “Doesn’t look like too much of the canned food stayed in him.”

Alex met Daniel’s eyes. “Could have saved his life.”

Daniel frowned. “What could they have been looking for?”

Alex stood and looked around the trashed bedroom with a sigh. “I have no idea.”

“They did the same thing in my room,” Meredith said. “Thank goodness I had my laptop with me. Where’s yours?”

“It was in the closet. Daniel, can you open it?”

He’d already pulled a pair of gloves from his pocket and slid the closet door open with one hand. It was completely empty. “What was on your computer, Alex?”

“Nothing, really. Maybe old tax returns, so they have my social and my address.”

“We can report it to the credit agencies tomorrow,” Daniel said.

Meredith cleared her throat. “Alex, where’s your thing?”

Alex looked at Daniel. “Is my gun still locked in your trunk?”

He nodded grimly. “Yeah. Although I’m sure they brought their own, just in case.”

Alex’s shocked gaze flew to Meredith’s. “If we’d been here…”

Meredith nodded unsteadily. “But we weren’t. And Hope’s safe. She may have to wear the same clothes for a few days, but she’s safe.”

“We can pick up what you need on the way to the safe house,” the agent said. “Everything here’s going to need to stay the way it is until we can process the scene. You want to call CSU, Vartanian, or should I?”

Daniel rubbed his head and Alex could see the headache lurking in his eyes. “If you would, I’d appreciate it, Shannon. I need to get Riley to the vet. There’s an all-night emergency clinic near my house.”

“I’ll make the call,” Shannon said. “You need help getting the pooch to your car?”

“No.” Daniel scooped Riley into his arms, settling the dog’s head on his shoulder like a baby’s. “He’s a lead butt, but I got him. Call when you get to the safe house, Meredith.”

“I will.” Meredith pulled Alex to her in a fierce hug. “When will I see you again?”

“Tomorrow morning. You’re bringing Hope in to do her hypnosis, right?”

Meredith’s nod was shaky. “I hope I can make it through another one.”

“You will. Thank you for being there with me tonight.”

Meredith faltered. “Alex…”

“Sshh. Hush now. You couldn’t have known. So let it go.”

“You call me when you get to Vartanian’s. I assume that’s where you’ll be tonight.”

“Yes. That’s where I’ll be.”

Athens, Georgia, Wednesday, January 31, 11:35 p.m.

Mack flinched, the buzzing of his cell phone startling him. Careful not to reveal his hiding place, he checked his phone and frowned. It was a text message from Woolf. He wondered if Woolf had followed him here. But he’d been careful. No one had followed him. And Woolf should be busy right now.

He opened the text message. Thanks for tip. Here at scene. Who is he? 2 much blood 2 see face. Need ID before 12 for a.m. edition.

He hesitated, then shrugged. Up until now the Woolfs had been able to reason that he might just be an anonymous tipper and not necessarily a murderer. It was his experience that people could tell themselves all kinds of things to make themselves feel better, and the Woolfs were no exception. Romney, Sean, he texted back and hung up.

The Woolfs might not leap to his command anymore. But he was almost finished with them anyway. He heard footsteps. A male voice. Female laughter.

“You should let me drive you home,” the man said.

“I’m fine. I’ll see you in class, okay?”

There were sounds of kissing, then a male groan. “I want you. It’s been three days.”

She laughed lightly. “I have a paper due tomorrow, so not tonight, big boy.”

Mack hadn’t anticipated she’d have companionship. Stupid move on his part. He fingered the safety on his Colt, prepared to do what he needed to do to get away. But the man just groaned and after another kiss, left.

Lisa got in her car, humming. She checked her rearview and pulled her car away from the curb. He let her drive a few blocks before coming up behind her like a thief in the night. He stuffed the handkerchief in her mouth and pressed his knife to her throat. I’m getting good at this. “Drive,” he said. Now this was going to be fun.

Atlanta, Wednesday, January 31, 11:55 p.m.

“Why are we here?” Alex asked. “I thought we were going back to your house.”

“Here” was Leo Papadopoulos’s firing range. “Luke’s brother runs this place. He gives a discount to all Luke’s friends from the bureau.”

“That’s very nice,” she said. “So why are we here?”

“Because… Dammit, Alex, Sheila Cunningham was holding a gun when she died.” And he couldn’t get the picture out of his mind. “She never fired.”

“Like my mother,” she murmured. “Is it a woman thing?”

“No, men do it, too. It’s a training thing. When you get scared you freeze up. You have to have all those behaviors, those habits, ingrained. You do the same thing in the ER. When a crisis hits, you go into autopilot mode on some things, don’t you?”

“Some things, yes. So are you going to train me, Daniel?”

“Not in one day. But we’ll come back every day until either you’ve built up some reflexes or this is over and you don’t need it anymore.”

“Is this place always open at night?”

“No. Leo opened it up for us. He owed Luke a favor. I called Luke to ask if we could come by while I was waiting for the vet to see Riley.” That the vet believed his dog was suffering from being poisoned simply added to the fury churning in Daniel’s gut. He’d benefit from a little target practice himself. “Come on, let’s go.” He came around and helped her from the car, then took her satchel from the trunk. “You still can’t carry this around town, you know.”

She nodded. “I know.”

“But you didn’t say you’d obey.”

She smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “I know.”

He shook his head and held the front door open. “Just go inside.”

Inside, Leo Papadopoulos stood behind the counter. “Danny! And who is this?”

Leo was a few years younger than Luke and just as popular with the ladies. “This is Alex. Hands off, Leo.” He meant it as a friendly jab, but instead it sounded ominous.

Leo just grinned. “Hell, I already knew that. Mama told me all about Miss Alex.”

Alex looked up at him. “And how does Mama know? She’s never met me.”

“Oh, she will, don’t worry.” Leo flashed a dazzling smile. “She will. You can go on back. Luke’s back there already.” Leo’s smile faded. “I think he had a really bad day.”

“Yeah, well, that’s goin’ around,” Daniel muttered. “Thanks, Leo. I’ll owe you one.”

Back in the range, Luke stood in one of the stations, his ears covered and his face creased in a feral snarl. Alex frowned. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Luke works Internet sex crimes. Lately he’s been on a child protection task force. He’s been deep into a case the last two months. It’s not looking good.”

“Oh.” She sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s the job,” Daniel said with a shrug. “Yours, mine. We have to flow with it, and Luke will, too. Here, put these on.” He handed her goggles and earmuffs, then opened her satchel and examined her gun. It was an H &K nine-mil, small enough to fit her hand comfortably. “This is a good gun. You know how to load it?” When she nodded, he added, “You know how to load it fast?”

Her chin lifted. “Not yet.”

“We can work on that later. For now, shoot.” He handed her the gun and stepped back and watched. In the station next to Luke, she took aim and fired methodically-and missed the target each time. He found himself justifiably concerned… and undeniably aroused. It was a hell of a thing to watch a beautiful woman with a good gun. Especially one who’d told you that making love with you was her happiest memory. Especially when you’d thought the same thing. He frowned, concern overriding his arousal. Especially when she couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn.

Luke stopped to watch. “Don’t close your eyes,” he said.

She lowered the gun and blinked. “Was I? Well, that’s scary.” She blew out a breath and set herself up to try again.

Luke came over, his eyes full of questions. “How is she?” he asked, low so Alex couldn’t hear. The question made Daniel angry-not at Luke, but angry just the same.

“Given that in the last few days she found out her sister was gang-raped and that her mother was murdered, not too bad.” Luke’s eyes widened and Daniel filled him in.

“Shit. Well, how’s Riley?”

“The vet said he’ll be okay.” He studied Luke’s eyes. “So, what happened?”

Luke’s expression smoothed to one of careful blankness. “It all went down today. We got a fix on three of the kids we’d been tracking through that kiddie-porn site.” He fixed his eyes on Alex, who’d managed to hit the target twice. “We didn’t get there in time.”

“I’m sorry, Luke.”

Luke nodded again. “Two girls and a boy,” he said, his voice steady, but without any emotion. “Sisters and a brother. Fifteen, thirteen, and ten. Shot in the head, all of them.”

Daniel swallowed, able to picture it only too well. “God.”

“We’d missed the perps by at least a day. We shut down the site, but they’ll just reopen somewhere else.” He was staring into space now and Daniel didn’t want to think about what he was seeing. “I need a break. Chase said you had a shitload of names to go through to get a profile on this posse.”

“We can definitely use you.” He clasped Luke’s shoulder. “Do you need anything?”

Luke’s lips twisted. “A key to hell. There’s no other place bad enough for those guys.” A muscle in his clenched jaw spasmed. “I see too many faces in my dreams.”

The fury that roiled inside him bubbled higher. “I know.”

Luke turned, his eyes bright with tears. “I have to go. Leo says you can stay as long as you want. When’s the morning meeting for your case?”

“Eight,” Daniel said. “In the team room.”

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.” Luke packed up his gun and ammo and was gone.

Alex lowered her gun and pulled the muffs from her ears. “He’s not okay, is he?”

“No. But, like you, he will be. Put those back on.” He stepped behind her and positioned her arms. “Aim like this.” He showed her, keeping his arms wrapped tightly around her. “Now squeeze the trigger and keep your eyes open.”

She obeyed, nodding sharply when her shot hit the paper target’s chest. “Aim for the chest,” she said. “More area, more room for error. I remember a cop once told me that when he brought a stabbing victim into the ER. Her husband had come at her with a knife. She had a gun, but she’d aimed for his head and missed.”

“What happened to her?”

“She died,” she said flatly. “Show me how again.”

So he did, holding her arms firmly in place. Her focus on the paper target was absolute as she emptied her magazine into its chest. But each shot pushed her body back against him, wreaking havoc with his own concentration. He made himself remember Sheila Cunningham, sitting in the corner, dead. Focus, Vartanian.

“Load,” he gritted, taking a step back as she followed his direction. Her hands were nimble and she completed the task more quickly than he’d expected. “That was good.”

She lifted the gun, but without his arm guiding hers, her aim was off and by the third shot she was completely off the target again.

“You’re closing your eyes again. Keep them open, Alex.” He covered her arms with his again, righting her aim. Accepting the torture of her body rubbing against his when she settled back into him and emptied another magazine. In the quiet, he shuddered out the breath he’d held. “Load, dammit.”

She twisted to look up at him over her shoulder, her eyes wide with question at his terse command. Then her whiskey-colored eyes darkened with understanding and a need of her own. She turned back and loaded, her fingers just as steady as before. The steadiness, he knew, came from years of functioning under stressful situations. He wished he could watch her in action in her own domain, and realized with a jolt that he wouldn’t be able to. Because when this was over, she’d go back. Back to Ohio. Back to the job she wouldn’t leave and the “nice” ex-husband she saw every damn day.

Another pulse of fury bubbled up. He knew his jealousy was totally irrational, but the other… when this was over she would leave. No, she won’t. I won’t let her.

You can’t stop her. But he knew he couldn’t let her slip away. He’d deal with her leaving when the time came. Until then, he had to keep her alive. “Try it yourself.”

She’d improved, but her aim drifted and he brought his arms back around her. She shifted, her butt rubbing hard against his groin, once, then twice, before she settled into him and began squeezing the trigger again. The move had been deliberate and had what blood was left in his head pounding a fast steady beat. Then she was done.

She put the gun on the waist-high counter, slipped off the glasses and the earmuffs, and he did the same. For a moment she stood, regarding the target with an icy stare. There was very little of it left. Three rounds from her H &K had ripped it to shreds.

“I think I killed it,” she said evenly, no hint of amusement in her tone.

“I think you did,” he answered, his voice rough and gravelly.

She turned in his arms and lifted her chin, meeting his eyes with cool challenge. Then she pulled his head down for the hottest kiss he’d ever experienced. In seconds it exploded and they were dueling for control, openmouthed and frantic. His hands covered the butt that had tantalized him, pulling her up and into him, rubbing her up and down his length, trying to get some relief. She tightened her arms around his neck and fought to get closer, lifting one knee to buttress his hip. He ran his hands down her thighs and lifted her, groaning into her mouth when she wrapped her legs around him.

“Stop.” He ripped his mouth from hers, panting. She was panting, too, and the sound made him want to rip her clothes off and drive deep into her, right here, right now. But they stood in Leo Papadopoulos’s target range and Daniel suspected even Leo would have a problem with that. He let her legs slide down his body, trying to get his heart back to a normal rhythm. “I have to clean up your shells before we go.”

“I’ll do that!” Leo called from the front in a singsong voice. “You two can just go home and do… whatever.”

Daniel snorted a laugh. “Thank you, Leo,” he called back dryly.

“Any time, Daniel.”

Daniel put Alex’s gun back in her satchel and took her hand. She hadn’t dropped her gaze since he’d broken the moment and the look in her eyes had his heart racing again. She looked determined. Dangerous. This was going to be really good.

Atlanta, Thursday, February 1, 12:50 a.m.

Luckily Leo’s place was not too far from his house. Luckily it was well after midnight and there were few cars on the highway or Daniel would have been tempted to use his lights for personal reasons for the first time ever.

She’d said nothing the entire way home and every minute of silence took the heat higher and higher until Daniel thought he’d lose it like a teenager before he ever got her clothes off. By the time he pulled into his driveway, he was shaking. But if there was any justice in the world, so was she. He grabbed her satchel and hauled her to his front door, his hand trembling as he tried to get the key in the lock. He missed twice before she hissed, “For God’s sake, hurry, Daniel.”

He got the door opened and yanked her inside. Her arms were around his neck and her mouth was kissing him before he got the front door shut. Blindly he closed it, locked it, threw the deadbolt. “Wait. The alarm. I have to set it.”

She withdrew and he turned to the alarm panel. When he looked back, his mouth went dry. Those nimble fingers of hers had made short work of the buttons on her blouse and she was pulling it from her slacks with impatient jerks. Her eyes narrowed.

“Hurry” was all she said.

The single word was like a cracked whip. Roughly he backed her against the door, taking her mouth with desperate ferocity as he pulled her jacket and blouse off her shoulders. Her fingers were quicker and she had his shirt unbuttoned before he could manage the hooks on her bra. Finally he twisted and ripped and her breasts were free and he filled his hands with them, plucking at her nipples, already pebbled hard.

“Alex.” He tried to step back but she was pushing her slacks and panties over her hips and kicking them away, all while her mouth ate at his. “Come to bed.”

“No, do it here.” She stood before him, nude and perfect. “Do it like you wanted to back there.” Then she gave him no choice when she threw her arms around his neck and launched herself high, twining her legs around his waist. “Do it now.”

His pulse rocketed through the top of his head and he yanked at his belt. His knuckles caressing her hot, incredibly wet warmth as he pulled and twisted, making her moan. He dropped his pants, pushed her against the door, and thrust as hard as he could. Finally all that wet warmth was surrounding him, pulling him deeper, driving him insane.

She cried out, but there was no pain in her eyes, only heat and need and want and he knew he needed to see those eyes glaze over in mindless satisfaction.

“Keep your eyes open,” he muttered and she nodded once, hard. Her fingers dug into his shoulders and his dug into her hips and held on as he pounded into her, giving free rein to the beast that roared inside his head. He pounded until he couldn’t remember anything about the day, until all the fear was gone from her eyes, leaving only dazed passion. Her body arched and she cried out again as she came, gripping him, dragging him with her.

He plunged a final time, and the pleasure was like a brick to his head. He slumped against her, pressing her into the door. His lungs pumped as he gasped for air, certain that if he died right then and there, he could want no more. Then he pulled back to see her face, and knew he had to have her again. And again. She was panting, but her mouth curved. And she looked… proud. Incredibly satisfied, but proud, just the same.

“That was really, really good,” she said.

He laughed, then wheezed in another breath. “I think three reallys would about kill me, but I’m willing to risk it if you are.”

“I’m living life on the edge lately. I say we go for it.”

Thursday, February 1, 1:30 a.m.

Someone was crying again. Bailey could hear the plaintive wail through the walls. A door opened down the hall, followed by a hollow thud, then silence. It happened about two or three times every night.

Then her door flew open, bouncing back against the concrete wall. He came in and grabbed her by the blouse that was now tattered and rank. “You lied to me, Bailey.”

“Wh-?” She cried out when the back of his hand connected with her cheek.

“You lied to me. Alex’s key is not in her house.” He shook her, hard. “Where is it?”

Bailey stared at him, unable to speak. She’d told Alex to hide the key. She had no idea where it could be. “I… don’t know.”

“Then let’s see if we can make your brain work a little better.” He yanked, dragging her from the room, and she tried to make her mind shut down. Tried to keep herself from saying anything more. Tried to keep herself from praying to die.

Atlanta, Thursday, February 1, 2:10 a.m.

Alex’s body was sore in all the right places. She rolled her head on the pillow to look at him, the only movement she could muster. Daniel lay on his back as, openmouthed, he struggled to fill his lungs.

“I hope you don’t need CPR,” she muttered, “because I don’t think I can move.”

His laugh was half groan. “I think I’ll live.” He rolled to his side and pulled her against him, so that they lay spooned together. “But I needed it,” he added quietly.

“So did I,” she whispered. “Thank you, Daniel.”

He pressed a kiss to her shoulder, reached to turn off the light, and pulled the blanket over them. She’d started to drift off when he sighed. “Alex, I need to talk to you.”

She’d figured this was coming. “Okay.”

“Tonight you said your mother told Crighton that you’d seen him with Tom’s blanket.”

Alex swallowed. “Tom was my dad. He died when I was five.”

“Meredith told me. What was so special about the blanket?”

“It was my dad’s camping blanket. We didn’t have a lot of money, but camping was cheap and he liked being outside. Sometimes we’d all pile in the car and go to the lake and fish and swim… Then at night he’d make a fire and he’d wrap me and Alicia up in that old blanket and hold us on his lap while he told us stories. My mom kept all of his stuff out in Craig’s garage in case Alicia and I wanted it someday. I remember Craig didn’t like that very much. He was very possessive of my mother.”

“So what did you see, honey?”

“I don’t know, but I know there’s something. I keep remembering thunder and lightning. Mary said she was a little surprised when I insisted starting the day after Alicia died. We just need to go back another day. That’s all.”

“No, that’s not all.” His arm tightened around her waist. “You’re going to be mad, and I don’t blame you. Just remember, I was trying to do the right thing at the time.”

Frowning, Alex rolled to look up at him. “What?”

He stayed on his side, his expression grim. “This hasn’t been in any of the press releases and we’ve been able to keep it quiet. But two of the three bodies we found in ditches had a hair wrapped around the big toe. The hairs are at least ten years old.” His chest expanded, then fell. “And they match your DNA exactly.”

Alex was stunned. “My DNA? How do you know? I’ve never given you a sample.”

He closed his eyes. “Yes, you did. Remember Tuesday when you were leaving to go with Ed to Bailey’s house and I kissed you and pulled your hair?”

Alex’s jaw tightened. “You did it on purpose. Why? Why didn’t you just ask me?”

“Because I didn’t want to worry you. I was trying-”

“Not to hurt me,” she finished. “Daniel…” She shook her head, wanting to be annoyed, but he looked so miserable that she couldn’t find it in her. “It’s okay.”

He opened his eyes. “It is?”

“Yeah. You were trying to do the right thing. Just don’t do it again, okay?”

“Okay.” He pulled her back against him. “Let’s go to sleep.”

She snuggled back into him. Then the full import of his words struck her, and despite the heat radiating from his body, she felt cold. “He has her hair,” she whispered.

“I know, baby.”

Fear snaked its way into her gut. “Where did he get it, Daniel?”

His arm tightened around her protectively. “I don’t know yet. But I’ll find out.”

Thursday, February 1, 2:30 a.m.

“Bailey,” Beardsley whispered. “Are you alive?”

Bailey drew in a shallow breath, testing. “Yes.”

“Did you tell him anything more?”

“I don’t know anything more,” she said, her voice breaking on a sob.

“Sshh. Don’t cry. Maybe Alex just hid it.”

Bailey tried to make her brain think. “I told her to, in the letter.”

“Letter? You mean you mailed it?” he murmured. “To Ohio? When?”

“The day they took me. Thursday.”

“She might not have gotten it then. She got here on Saturday.”

Bailey drew in another, faster breath. “Then she might not know about the key.”

“We need to buy some time. If you have to tell him, say you sent it to her in Ohio. She’s not there if they look, so she and Hope will be safe. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

Dutton, Thursday, February 1, 5:30 a.m.

He rolled by Alex Fallon’s little bungalow, his eyes narrowing. Crime scene tape was stretched across her front door. He wondered if the assholes who’d tried to run her down two days before had finally been successful at snuffing her out. They better not have. He needed her alive so he could kill her himself. Otherwise his circle would not be complete, and that would be a damn shame.

He kept rolling along at his snail’s pace, doing what he’d been paid to do. A few doors down, old Violet Drummond hobbled out to the street and he handed her a paper through the window. “Mornin’, Miz Drummond.”

“Mor-nin’,” she said auspiciously.

“What happened at the bungalow?” he asked nonchalantly.

Her lips pursed as if she’d sucked a lemon. “Break-in. Somebody ransacked that Tremaine girl’s things and poisoned her dog. Tore up the house, too. I knew she was trouble the minute she walked back into town. She should have just stayed away.”

He looked back at the bungalow through his side mirror. Somebody had been sloppy. Somebody was getting scared. Inside he grinned. Outside he made his face frown. “Yes’m. Have a nice day, Miz Drummond.”

He rolled away, relieved Alex Fallon still lived, but annoyed that now she’d be more on her guard than ever-and no longer conveniently located on Main Street. But he knew where she’d be staying. She and Vartanian were practically joined at the hip. But he and Vartanian would meet soon and he’d grab Alex then.

For now, he’d finish his job, then go get some sleep. He’d had a very busy night.

Atlanta, Thursday, February 1, 5:55 a.m.

The phone woke her and groggily Alex answered it. “Fallon. What is it, Letta?”

“Um, I’m not Letta and I want to talk to Daniel. Is he there?”

Alex sat up, awake now. “I’m sorry. Wait.” She poked Daniel’s arm. “I think it’s Chase. I was so sleepy I thought I was at home and my charge nurse was calling.”

Daniel lifted his head, his eyes still heavy with sleep. “Oh, hell. Give it here.”

She handed it over, wondering if they would have any trouble over their… sleeping arrangements. She glanced at the clock with a wince. They hadn’t done much sleeping.

“I’m sorry. I did call you about her mother.” Daniel sat up and hunched over, his free hand massaging his temples. He had a headache already. “I should have called you about the break-in at the bungalow, but I had to take Riley to the vet.” He looked up at her with a hopeful grimace, then rolled his eyes. “Well, yeah, there was that, too.”

Alex scooted over so that she knelt next to his hip and lifted his chin. His eyes were shadowed with pain. She pressed her thumbs to his temples and her lips to his brow until she felt him relax. She leaned back and he nodded, but his lips didn’t smile.

“When?” he said. “Who?… Never heard of him. Why didn’t APD call us? I thought we had a picture of that kid on the visor of every patrol car in the city.” He sighed. “I guess that would make it hard to see his face. All right.” He sat up straighter and looked at his clock. “Again? Then there’s another one. Who’s his tail?… Good. Have him call me when Woolf stops. I’ll be there as fast as I can.” He started to hang up, then paused, looking at Alex. “I’ll tell her. Thanks, Chase.” He handed her the phone and she hung it up, her stomach already starting to churn.

“Who did APD have a picture of on their visors?”

“A kid we’ve been looking for. They found him dead in an alley, a few blocks from his car.” He scrubbed his palms over his face. “Shot in the head with his face covered in blood. Nobody recognized him until they’d gotten him to the morgue and cleaned up his face. They found his car, ran the plates. But I’ve never heard of him.”

“What’s his name?”

“Sean Romney.”

“I’ve never heard of him either.” She made herself ask the harder question. “Woolf’s on the move again?” she asked, and he nodded.

“I’ve gotta get out there and you can’t stay here alone.”

“I can be ready in ten minutes,” she said, and he looked impressed. “When you work level one trauma, you have to be ready to go in whenever there’s a major crisis. We get all the chopper cases in a seventy-mile radius. So I can move when I need to.” She rolled out of bed, but he stayed for a moment, watching her. “What?”

His eyes were that piercing blue that made her shiver. “You’re beautiful.”

“So are you. I hope I didn’t get you into any trouble, answering the phone like that.”

He got out of bed, stretching his shoulders one way and then the other while she watched for the simple pleasure of doing so. “No,” he drawled. “Chase already knew.”

Her eyes widened. “You told him? Daniel!

“No,” he drawled again. “I’m a guy, Alex. When we have head- banging sex on a sofa, it’s written all over our faces. Everybody knows.”

“Oh. Well, okay.” She felt her cheeks heat. “So what did Chase tell you to tell me?”

Daniel sobered abruptly. “That he’s sorry about your mother. Hurry. We need to go.”

Загрузка...