by Cynthia Eden
No one hurt Ana.
No one took Ana.
And no one fucking had better kill her.
“Get your ass dressed,” Asher said. “We have work to do.” He turned away, then stopped. He waved his hand toward Cash. “But maybe get some extra bandages from Suzy. You’re already bleeding.”
Cash looked down and saw the blood soaking through the heavy white bandage that covered his chest.
There was a little doll in front of her. Ana turned her head, staring at the doll. It was a pretty doll, with short, dark hair, a wide smile . . .
And no eyes.
She remembered the dolls she’d seen, all lined up in a little row at Bellhaven. Those dolls had been positioned right in front of the room that housed Dr. Summers.
“You left them there,” Ana said, her voice soft and low. Not because she’d been screaming and she’d broken her voice. Not because she’d gone days without water.
She’d had plenty to drink.
And she hadn’t screamed. Why? There would be no point. They’d driven her far and fast, and from what Ana could determine, they were in the middle of nowhere.
Her ropes had been traded for a chain—a long one that circled her left ankle. The other end of the chain was secured around the bedpost. A very massive bedpost. One that didn’t break easily. Ana knew because she’d been trying to break it ever since the drugs had finally worn off and she could stay awake for more than five minutes at a time.
“You left the dolls,” Ana said as she glanced up at the woman who’d come into her room. Before, the door would only open for a brief moment. Food and water would be shoved inside, and then Ana would be left alone.
This time, though, the scene was different.
This time, the bitch who’d shot Cash had crept into Ana’s room and she’d put down the little doll.
The woman—with her dark hair cut just like Ana’s—lifted a finger to her lips. “That’s a secret,” she said, “you aren’t supposed to tell.”
Where was the man? The one who’d drugged her? The one who’d started this whole mess?
Ana stared at her, hard, trying to see past the dark hair and perhaps look back in time. What had this woman looked like years before? When she’d been a teen . . . or . . . maybe just a kid? Something Sarah had said to Ana a few days before nagged at her mind.
When we get the files on the kids, and we see the age progression photos that are created. The way they could look . . . I always hope . . . maybe they are still out there. Maybe they don’t even know who they are. A mind is such a fragile thing. So easily broken.
Ana swallowed the lump in her throat. “I’m so sorry.”
The other woman shuffled a little closer.
“I didn’t see it the first time I saw you, back at River View. I was so intent on searching for a killer, I missed the victim right in front of me.” She kept her voice low, easy, knowing that she had to be very careful with the woman in front of her. The woman she’d first met as Chassity Pope but now . . . now Ana realized who the woman really was. “I’m sorry,” Ana said again.
The woman jerked. “Don’t say that.” Her voice was sharp.
“Your mother . . . she’s still looking for you.”
All of the color left the face of Ana’s abductor.
“You’re not Chassity—”
“No, no, I’m—”
“You’re Cathy, aren’t you?” And she could see the faint signs there. The shape of her chin, a little more defined, but the dimple was still there. Her eyes were still wide, tipping up a bit at the corners. Her nose was different, broken, twisted a little. “You’re Cathy Wise.”
“No!” This time, her retort was a scream.
“You were abducted when you were thirteen.” Ana still kept her voice soft. “Did Jonathan Bright take you? Is that what happened? He took you while you were walking—”
“My grandmother gave me away!” she screamed. “She gave me to him! And my mother didn’t care! No one ever cared!” Again, she shuffled a bit closer. She was wearing a big, dark jacket, one that swallowed her slender frame.
“Is that what he told you?” Ana stood in front of the bed, her hands at her sides. “Jonathan lied. He wanted you to feel alone. Isolated. No one gave you away. He took you, just as he took the others.”
Cathy—she has to be Cathy—gave a frantic shake of her head. “No, no, no!”
“I work for an organization called LOST.” She eased out a quick breath. Her palms were wet with sweat. “We find people like you, Cathy. People who’ve gone missing. Your mother came to LOST. She brought pictures of you. She wants to find you and bring you home—”
“My mother was a bitch who never cared about me! She dumped me with my grandmother so she could spend the summer driving the roads with some dumbass truck driver she met at a bar! I was in the way, so she dumped me!” Spittle flew from Cathy’s lips. Her voice lowered a bit as she said, “I was in my grandmother’s way, too. Always in the way.” Her hand lifted, sweeping up from the cover of that thick jacket. “Only now, you’re the one in the way.”
She had a gun in her hand. The same gun that she’d used on Cash.
Pain cracked inside of Ana’s heart.
Cash is okay. Cash is alive. Cash will come. That was all she could allow herself to think about him. Nine little words. A mantra that held her sanity in check.
“You’re messing things up,” Cathy told Ana. “You’re messing him up!”
The man who’d drugged me. Ana knew exactly who Cathy was talking about. “Who is he to you?”
“My friend. My brother.” A wide smile spread. “Maybe more.”
Oh, hell.
“He likes you, so I’ll be you and you’ll be gone.” Cathy aimed her gun at Ana. “I had to wait until he was away.” Now she sounded as if she were making a dark confession. “He was watching me, too close. I think he was mad because I killed your lover.”
Cash is okay. Cash is alive. Cash will come.
“He wanted to kill him, you see. Because your lover—Knox—he was a bad man.”
“No, he’s not.” The denial burst from her.
But Cathy shook her head. “He’s bad. We know . . . Knox . . . it was his brother who scarred you.” And curiosity glinted in her eyes. “I want to see the scars.”
What?
“I can see the one on your lip, but it’s small.” Cathy took another step forward. “I read that you have a whole lot more. When you were at River View, you said—”
“I have plenty of scars,” Ana said. And I’m betting you do, too, Cathy. Maybe they weren’t scars on the skin, but Ana knew they would go so much deeper.
All the way to Cathy’s battered soul.
“Show them to me.” Cathy motioned with the gun.
Ana slowly lifted up the hem of her shirt.
“Oh, they’re ugly.” Cathy seemed happy. “You’re ugly, Ana.”
And you’re sick, Cathy. I’m so sorry. You need help.
“I don’t like ugly,” Cathy said. “I don’t like you.”
“Cathy, I want to help you.”
“No, you don’t. You want to stop me.” Suddenly, Cathy’s gaze seemed very, very focused. “But I don’t want to be stopped. I like what I’m doing. I’ve been doing it for a very long time, and it feels good.”
Goose bumps rose onto Ana’s arms. “How many people have you killed?”
Cathy sucked in a deep breath, then exhaled on a robust sigh. “I don’t really remember.” She tapped her chin with the gun, tapping right on the little dimple there. “I remember the first. It was Daddy Jon. We killed him slowly. Watching him go, day by day . . . getting weaker and he had no clue. Put it in his drink. Didn’t even know what was happening.”
They poisoned Jonathan Bright. Only, she wanted to be sure about the they part. “You were the one who called me on the phone at the motel.” That was why the caller had used the voice distortion. It hadn’t been the man who’d made contact with Ana that time. It had been
Cathy. “You told me the names of the victims. You mentioned Jenny Love. Peter Francis. Christopher Hey.” Ana pressed her sweaty palms to her stomach. “But according to all the newspaper reports back then . . . another boy went missing, too. A—a boy named William Marshall.”
Cathy tensed.
“Did William help you kill Jon? Is that what happened? Did the two of you kill Jon so that you could be free?”
Cathy shook her head. “We killed him . . . because he was a monster. Monsters have to be killed.”
Monsters like Bernie. Like Forrest. Like Dr. Summers?
“How do you decide who’s a monster?” Ana asked her softly.
“Billy decides. Billy knows.”
Billy. William. Okay, she could work with this. “Billy doesn’t think I’m a monster, Cathy.”
“He thought Agent Knox was.” She gave a little laugh. “So I killed him.”
Cash is okay. Cash is alive. Cash is coming.
“But now Billy is mad.” A furrow appeared between Cathy’s brows. “He’s watching me too much. Looking at me . . . like I’m a monster.”
“You’re not,” Ana said quickly. “You’re a victim. I can help you, Cathy. We’ll leave this place together and I’ll take you back to your mom and—”
Wrong thing to say.
“I’m not going back,” Cathy said, the gun trembling in her hand. “I’m staying with him, forever, just like he promised. I’ll never go back.” Her eyes glinted. “And you won’t stop me. You don’t understand anything!”
The woman was going to fire. Ana knew it. And there was nowhere to run. So Ana didn’t run.
She lunged forward. She’d spent too much time alone in that room and she’d realized just how far she could reach, chained as she was. She’d just needed Cathy to come a little bit closer. To get within range . . .
So I kept talking. And she kept coming toward me.
Cathy was starting to smile—
But Ana grabbed Cathy’s wrist and twisted hard, hard enough to break bones this time. I’m sorry, I’m sorry—
The gun fell from Cathy’s fingers as she let out a pain-filled scream. Ana drew back her fist and delivered a hard right hook to the woman’s jaw. Cathy stumbled back. Ana scrambled for the gun, but when Cathy had dropped it, it had slid across the floor and it was—
Just out of my reach.
“You’re going to pay for that!” Cathy yelled. “I’m going to cut out your eyes! Cut them out! Naughty girl, naughty! You’re going to pay!”
But the door opened behind Cathy.
He was there.
The man she’d seen at the motel. Tall, with wide shoulders. Bright blue eyes. A handsome man.
A very, very dangerous man.
William Marshall?
He bent and scooped up the gun.
“Shoot her!” Cathy screamed. “She was trying to escape! She attacked me!” Cathy whirled toward the man. “I told you she was bad. She’s a monster. She has to be stopped.”
Ana tensed. If he fired on her from such close range, she’d be dead.
Think, Ana. Think.
He’d said she understood him. She’d boasted to Cash that she understood monsters and . . . “Hello, Billy,” Ana said, and her voice only cracked a little bit.
He blinked. Then he inclined his head toward her. “Hello, Ana.”
Sweat covered Cash’s forehead. Drenched his back. He’d headed to the base that had been set up for Ana’s search, and after a twenty minute briefing, he realized—
“You all have jack shit.”
Gabe’s jaw tightened. “No one saw anything at the rest stop. It was too early in the day. They stole the vehicle that belonged to one of the cleaning crew members—and the old sedan hasn’t turned up anywhere. The Beetle they left behind was also a stolen ride. It had been wiped clean. The only thing we found inside it was some blood in the trunk. Blood that was a match for Ana.”
Cash stared at the map that had been tacked to the evidence board. All of the crime sites were marked on that map.
Jonathan Bright’s cabin.
River View.
Bellhaven.
Wingate Penitentiary.
And even the little cabin that had been the Butcher’s final resting place.
“The sedan hasn’t turned up,” Cash said, his gaze trekking over that map. “Because they took it off road. They’re lying low and making their plans.”
“So who do we think those two bozos are?” Darius demanded.
Cash looked back to see that the executive assistant director had crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against the conference room table.
“I think they’re victims,” Sarah said, clearing her throat. “We found the remains of three children at Jonathan Bright’s cabin, but five children were abducted during that time—five children who all fit his victim pattern.”
Cash yanked the list of those suspected victims off the wall. “I heard the caller tell Ana . . . he said the bones belonged to Christopher Hey.” He crossed off that name. “Jenny Love.” Another name to cross off. “And Peter Francis.” He drew a line through that boy’s name.
“We don’t have confirmation of their identities from the ME yet,” Faye said.
Their whole group was assembled in that room. Darius, Faye, Gabe, Asher, and Sarah. The FBI and LOST—working together.
“The caller could have been lying,” Faye continued as she pursed her lips in thought. “To throw you and Ana off the track.”
True. It was certainly possible but . . . “Two names remain. Cathy Wise and William Marshall.”
Sarah opened the manila folder she held. “LOST was hired to find Cathy six months ago. Ana had taken over the case. There were no leads, nothing that could put us in a new direction, but I had our assistant send over a copy of the age progression photo that was made of the victim.” She tacked that picture on the evidence board, putting it right next to the photo that had been taken of Chassity Pope at River View. “Am I the only one who sees a similarity?”
“No,” Cash gritted. “You aren’t.” His gaze lingered on the photo. “So if one of our perps is Cathy Wise . . .” His gaze slid to the photo of Chassity’s “brother” that they’d taken. “Then maybe we’re looking at William Marshall, too.”
Asher swore. “They were just kids. Taken. Hurt—”
Just as Asher and Ana had been taken. Only the results of those abductions had been far different. Asher and Ana had escaped. They’d killed their abductors. They’d gone on to try to help people, to help victims.
Cathy and William . . . “They’re trying to stop monsters.”
“Ana isn’t a monster.” Asher’s voice was furious.
“No.” Cash narrowed his gaze on those photos. “But they think I am.”
“That’s why you wound up with a bullet in your chest,” Sarah said.
Gabe grunted. “But that wasn’t their usual style. I mean, Cash hadn’t shot anyone—”
“Yes, I have. I’ve killed two perps in the line of duty. So maybe they thought that was the way to end me.” Only he wasn’t out, not yet. He turned to face Darius, sucking in a quick breath at the stab of pain. Another stitch, giving way. “We know they took her some place isolated. Some place where they felt they’d be safe. They moved fast with Ana, and they’re going to lie low, so they’d need supplies. They’d need to be sure no nosy cops would be coming around too soon.”
Darius inclined his head. “All of that is true only if they plan to keep Ana alive for a while.”
The room got very quiet.
“If they’re intending to kill her, if she’s already dead, then they could be in the wind. That’s something all of you . . .” Darius’s gaze swept the assembled group. Sympathy flashed in his dark eyes as his stare lingered a moment on Asher. “It’s something all of you need to accept.”
The drumming of Cash’s heartbeat filled his ears. “Ana isn’t dead.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because, li
ke I said, she isn’t a monster.”
Darius just shook his head.
“So where is she?” Faye asked. “Where do they have her? There are a million spots where she could be. Do you know how many cabins are in the Blue Ridge Mountains? Cabins, houses, motels . . .”
Searching them all would take forever, he knew that. But maybe they didn’t need to search. Maybe they were the ones who just had to use the right bait. “They wanted the world to know what they were doing,” Cash said. He lifted his brows as he looked at Sarah. “Killers want recognition, right?”
She nodded. “Fame. They want to show the world just how good they are.”
Right. “So they were paying attention. Watching the reporters. They wanted people to see who they were.” He nodded. “That means they’re still watching. Especially since they just attacked a federal agent.”
“They’ll be waiting to see if you died,” Darius said.
Waiting to see if he was dead and waiting for their crimes to get the attention they felt they deserved. “If they’re watching, then I’m damn well going to give them a show they won’t forget. Get a crew of reporters ready right now.” Because he was ready to go live.
And be the perfect bait.
Cathy gave a wild cry and started to charge at Ana. Ana tensed her hands and came up as she prepared to attack—
But Billy caught the other woman around her waist. He jerked her back, holding her against his body. “Cathy, you have to calm down.”
“She has to die!”
Ana flinched.
“She hurt me!” Cathy yelled. “She has to die! Punish her! Payback! Payback!”
This time, Billy was the one to flinch, but his voice was gentle as he said, “It’s going to be okay. Didn’t I say that I’d always protect you? Everything is okay.”
Slowly, some of the bright red color faded from Cathy’s cheeks.
Billy led her to the door. “Why don’t you fix lunch for us? I’ll be right out.”
Cathy nodded. She didn’t look at Ana as she left the room.
And Ana didn’t take a breath until Cathy was gone. “She’s dangerous.”