by Karen Rose
“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 lik
e 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.”