I Can See You

by Karen Rose

  Pierce had risen from the shoes and was running to the stairs. In two steps Noah was on him, gun drawn. Then Eve heard a sickening crunch, metal to bone. Noah dropped to his knees and Pierce remained standing, holding a shovel like a bat.

  Pierce swung again, but Noah rolled, the shovel head hitting his shoulder instead. A moment later, Noah tackled him and Pierce went down.

  On his hands and knees, Noah blinked hard, trying to see. Pierce was on the floor, scrabbling backward. He plowed a fist into Pierce’s face, feeling satisfaction when the cartilage in Pierce’s nose yielded like butter. But Pierce rolled to his feet, standing behind him. Noah twisted, found himself looking into the barrel of a .22 with a silencer.

  “Hands out, Noah,” Pierce said. “I want to see them.”

  Noah held his hands out. His own gun was three feet away, dropped when he’d been hit by the shovel. Too far to grab. He watched Pierce, waiting for the time to move.

  “This is the way I always wanted you to die,” Pierce said with a smile, even though blood gushed from his nose. He stood over him, staring down. “On your knees, looking up at me.”

  Noah was breathing hard, his ears still ringing from the blow. “There are police surrounding this place. If you kill me, you’ll still go down.”

  “But I will have killed you,” Pierce said, reasonably. “And I have a hostage.”

  Noah didn’t think he’d ever adequately describe the expression that crossed Pierce’s face next, a combination of surprise and… annoyance. Noah leapt, wresting the gun from Pierce’s hand, but he didn’t have to exert much force. Pierce slumped to his knees, then fell flat on his face, Eve falling with him. Her hands were still bound and she wore nothing except the satisfaction on her face. Her left hand still clutched Pierce’s knife as it stuck from his back, blood soaking his tan overcoat.

  “No, you do not have a hostage.” She lifted her eyes. “Are you all right?”

  Noah crawled to her, checking her for injuries. “I’m fine. What did he do to you?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, dully. “What did he do to me?”

  “He hit you. Oh, Eve.” She looked like Brock had on Sunday night.

  She grabbed his arm, clumsily. “My face. Did he cut my face?”

  Noah wiped the blood away from her cheek. “Not much. Nobody will be able to tell.” It was then the shoes sank in. “Oh my God. Micki was right. The shoes.”

  Eve blinked slowly. “He killed all these women. They’re under us, right now.”

  He’d deal with that later. She looked like she was going into shock. He tried to stand up, but came back hard on his knees. The room was spinning so he crawled to get a blanket on the floor next to the bed. He wrapped Eve in it, then pulled her to his lap, holding her close, giving her his warmth. “You’re like ice.”

  She stared at the knife protruding from Pierce’s back. “Did I kill him?”

  “I hope so,” he said fiercely.

  Olivia came down the stairs, her gun at her side, then stopped short. “Holy shit,” she muttered. She knelt at Pierce’s side, put her fingers to his throat. “Alive, but barely.” She took her radio from her belt, called the all-clear and requested three more gurneys, then knelt beside Noah, reaching for Eve. “Let her go, Web.”

  Noah shook his head, sending the room spinning again. “No.”

  “Noah,” she said gently, “you’ve got a huge gash in the back of your head and you are bleeding a river. In about three minutes you’ll be flat on this floor yourself. Let her go so I can cut this twine.”

  Reluctantly, Noah let go. Olivia efficiently cut the twine from Eve’s hands as the medics thundered down the stairs. Eve met his eyes as the medics lifted her to a gurney. “He killed his wife. She’s under the floor. They all are. Jeremy Lyons, too.”

  A second medic was pushing Noah to a gurney. “Wait.” He blinked at the floor, saw a handle. “Open it.”

  Olivia yanked, then gagged when a concrete slab rolled back. “Oh my God.” She covered her mouth as she stared into the pit. “That’s his wife, Ann Pierce.”

  A man’s hand stuck up out of the dirt. “Jeremy Lyons,” Noah whispered. “Kane was right. So was Micki.”

  Olivia pulled the slab shut. “You can tell them yourself, once you’ve had stitches. Take him,” she said to the medics. “Don’t let him argue.”

  Noah let the medic roll him to his side to tend to his head. “Do me a favor.”

  “The ER docs’ll give you a local when they give you the stitches,” the medic said.

  “No.” Noah pointed to Pierce’s barely breathing body. “His bus? Drive it real slow.”

  Thursday, February 25, 6:15 p.m.

  “Oh, Eve.”

  From her hospital bed, Eve turned to see Callie standing in the doorway, distress on her face. “You should see the other guy,” she said, trying for light, but her voice still too hoarse.

  “We tried,” Callie said, utterly serious. “But they wouldn’t let us in the morgue. Sal wanted to be sure he was really dead, but the ME said we’d have to take his word for it. Good for you, girl.”

  Carleton Pierce had bled out as the helicopter transporting him had touched down on the hospital’s roof. “I don’t feel bad,” Eve murmured. “I suppose I should, but I don’t. I feel pretty damn good.”

  Callie carefully sat on the edge of her bed. “As you should. Where’s Noah?”

  “On the phone.” She smiled, gingerly. Her face still hurt from Pierce’s fists. And his knife. She fought back the shudder and thought of good things. “Jack woke up. The first person he asked for was Noah. They’re talking now.”

  Callie squeezed her hand gently. “That’s good. Maybe Jack will pull it together. Listen, you’ve got a crowd waiting to see you. Are you up for visitors?”

  Eve raised her hand to her throat, knowing what it looked like. Pierce had cut away her choker, exposing what was still a nasty scar. Then she shrugged. “It is what it is,” she said. “Let the visitation begin.”

  “I went by your place, grabbed you some clean clothes, a robe, and this.” Callie reached into her pocket and pulled out another choker.

  Eve’s eyes stung. “Thank you. For knowing it would be important.”

  “Don’t start crying or you’ll have me crying again.” She busied herself helping Eve into the robe and fastening the leather choker around her neck. “Sal will be chomping at the bit. He closed the bar so he could be the first one here. He only let me in first to get you presentable. He was the pillar of strength, keeping everyone’s spirits up, taking care of your Chicago friends.” She dropped her voice. “Then when he got the word that you were okay, alive, he broke down. Cried like a baby. So did Jeff Betz.”

  Eve sniffled. “That’s so sweet.”

  “And your friends from Chicago? They wanted to be here when you woke up, so Jeff gave them a ride in his cruiser, lights flashing.”

  “David’s was the first face I saw when I woke up from the surgery to sew up my leg.” Eve made a face. “It was like a bad rerun. His face is always the first one I see when I wake up from an attack by a homicidal lunatic.” But it had been such a relief. Max and Tom had been on the other side of the bed. Her family had rallied.

  “You could certainly wake up to a lot worse,” Callie said. “As wakeup-to faces go, David’s would be the one I’d choose, every time. So, you ready?”

  Eve drew a breath. “Let ’em in.” No sooner had she uttered the words than Sal was there, his arms around her, hard and safe. He was trembling, she realized. No, he was crying. The tears she’d blinked back burst free. “I’m okay,” she said, patting his back. “Totally okay.”

  He nodded, his face pressed against the curve of her neck. “Don’t ever do that to me again,” he grunted. He pulled back and wiped at his eyes, unashamed.

  Callie handed her a tissue. “Or he’ll fire you. He said that on the way over, about six times.”

  Sal shot her a dirty look. “I was emotional.”

  Eve pa
tted his cheek. “I think you’re sweet,” she said. “But fiscally irresponsible. I can’t believe you closed the bar. There’s a game tonight.”

  “Nobody was there anyway,” Noah said from the door, and as always, he took her breath away. It didn’t seem to matter what kind of doorway he stood in, the result was the same. “It appears they’re all downstairs, waiting to see you.”

  Sal twisted around to stare at Noah, then looked back at Eve with a satisfied smirk. “So I suppose you’ll be taking that bottle to Trina’s on Sunday after all?”

  She met Noah’s eyes and in them saw everything she’d ever wanted. “I suppose I will.” She struggled to sit up. “Now, how about those visitors? I hope they brought flowers. I haven’t had flowers since the last time I got kidnapped.”

  Thursday, February 25, 8:30 p.m.

  Olivia gratefully wrapped her hands around the cup of coffee Kane had coaxed from the vending machine in the hospital’s waiting room. “Thanks, I needed this.”

  “You need to go home, Liv,” he said gently.

  “I will. I just want to check on Liza and Eve first.”

  “Is Micki still at the scene?”

  Pierce’s basement had been a hellacious discovery, branded into her memory. “Yeah. Probably will be for days. If you don’t mind, I don’t want to talk about that now.”

  “Okay.” In true Kane fashion, he was quiet until she was ready to talk again.

  “I called Social Services,” she finally said. “Got a nice place for Liza.”

  “That’s good.”

  She looked away, too close to tears. “Kane. The bodies in that pit… it was horrible.”

  He brushed his big hand down her hair. “See the ladies, and I’ll take you home.”

  “You’re a fine chauffeur. You got your lights smacked out today, too. I’ll be okay. But thank you.” She drew a breath. “Let’s go.”

  They went into Liza Barkley’s hospital room where the girl lay, grimly coherent. She remembered everything, Olivia knew. Liza had her arms crossed and stared straight ahead. She was alive, but her sister was not, and that put the girl on a long, lonely road.

  Tom sat at her side, quietly, not touching her. He stood when Olivia and Kane entered. “I was with Eve, but she had a crowd.”

  And Liza was all alone. Olivia stood by her bed, touched her shoulder. “I found a really nice place for you to go when they let you out tomorrow. The woman that runs the home is a personal friend of mine. She’ll take good care of you.”

  Liza looked up, her eyes dead. “Thank you,” she murmured. “For everything.”

  Olivia met Tom’s eyes, saw the helplessness there and knew how he felt. “You both have my number. Call me day or night if you need me. I’ll let you rest now. I’ll be back tomorrow when they release you.”

  Olivia was at the door when Liza spoke again. “Detective. Did he live?”

  It was, perhaps, the one bright spot. “No.”

  Liza’s eyes flickered wildly, but her voice was calm. “My sister. Did you find her?”

  “Yes.” And she could see it in her mind. Probably always would.

  Liza nodded. “I understand.”

  “You two did good. We might not have found him in time without that license plate. Try to sleep now. Tom, I’ll see you later.”

  Outside, she slumped against the wall and shuddered.

  “There wasn’t anything left of her sister, was there?” Kane asked.

  “No,” Olivia said hoarsely. “Just bones.”

  “Jennie’s downstairs, waiting for me.” Jennie was Kane’s wife. “You’re coming home with us. You’re not going to be alone tonight, Liv,” he added sharply, when she tried to argue, then he smiled to soften his words. “I’ll carry you out of here if I have to.”

  Olivia nodded wearily. “Okay. Just for tonight.” She didn’t think she could be alone tonight. “Let’s go by Eve’s room. I’ll make it quick.”

  Thursday, February 25, 8:45 p.m.

  They’d all come, Eve thought, still a little stunned. Fifteen minutes before she and Noah had been sitting in her hospital room, Noah sporting a thick bandage on his head and she with her leg elevated, the bullet hole wrapped and treated.

  And then, the horde had descended. My family. They came. Dana and Ethan, Caroline and Max, Mia and her husband, Reed. David had called them and without a second thought, they’d come. They were noisy and laughing and joyful.

  And mine. The tears came again in a torrent, but that was okay, because they’d all been crying, too. Dana had plopped her pregnant self down on the bed beside her and hugged her like she’d never let go while everyone eyed Noah as if he were an alien from outer space.

  A new roar of welcome rose when Olivia came into the room. “I just came to check on the patient,” she said, her voice falsely bright, then stopped short when she saw Mia standing by the window next to her husband. “I didn’t know you were here.” Then Olivia burst into unexpected tears and tried to escape, but hit the wall of Kane.

  Mia put her arms around her. “I didn’t want to distract you,” she said. A homicide detective herself, Mia understood the pressure. Olivia, trying to find me and Liza before it was too late. And dealing with what Pierce left behind.

  “Come,” Mia told her sister. “Reed will take us back to our hotel and we’ll have chocolate. It’ll be all right.” Mia and Kane shared a knowing glance. “Thanks, Kane. We’ve got her now.” Then she looked at Eve. “Try to stay out of trouble, kid, okay?”

  Eve watched them go with a sigh. She knew Mia had come as much for Olivia as she had for her and that was as it should be.

  “Mia will know what to do. I can’t imagine…” I won’t think about the pit. Not tonight.

  Beside her, Dana hugged her hard. “You’re here,” she said firmly. “And okay.”

  “And you hacked into ShadowCo.” Ethan pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. “I am so proud. I’ll contact them on Monday, tell them they have a network security issue.”

  “Then I want half the commission when they hire you to fix it,” Eve said.

  “A third,” Ethan said. “Okay, half,” he amended when Dana elbowed him.

  “You led her into this life of hacker crime,” Caroline said, amused.

  Max scoffed at that. “You all did, with the clandestine activities and taking care of people whether they wanted it or not. Speaking of clandestine activities, where is Tom?”

  “He went to sit with Liza,” Eve said and they all sobered again. “Poor kid. I wish…”

  Dana leaned her head against Eve’s shoulder. “We’ll just be there for her.”

  Like Dana always was for me. “I know.”

  Caroline stood. “We’re out of here now, but we’ll come back tomorrow. We’re staying at a hotel about three blocks from your place. When you get out, we’ll have Dana’s baby shower in our room, then we have to be getting back.” She looked up over her shoulder at Max. “Your mother will be tearing her hair out with all the kids.”

  Between Caroline’s and Dana’s toddlers, Dana’s fosters, and Mia’s adopted son, Max and David’s mom had ten kids under her care. The horde, squared. It made Eve smile.

  “Mom loves it,” Max said. “Don’t let her fool you.” He leaned over and kissed Eve on the forehead. “Three times is your charm, kid. No more getting kidnapped, okay?”

  Eve laughed softly. “I’ll do my very best.”

  Friday, February 26, 3:00 p.m.

  “The real Carleton Pierce was a poor kid from a small Colorado town,” Abbott said when they’d all rejoined around Abbott’s table the next day. Olivia and Kane were there, Ian and Micki. And Eve. She sat at Noah’s side, listening as everyone brought a little bit of the story together.

  The only one not here was Jack. Nobody was sure when he’d be back at work. But he was alive and that’s all that mattered for now.

  Dell Farmer had been charged with the attempted murder of Jack, along with the murders of Katie Dobbs, Harvey Farmer, and Kurt Bu
ckland. MSP planned to do a follow-up article to be sure everyone knew what had really happened.

  Noah didn’t plan to buy a copy.

  In the last month, Pierce had taken the lives of six women as the Red Dress Killer and four others to cover his tracks—Ann Pierce, Jeremy Lyons, and the Bolyards. Then there were all the women in his pit. Noah pushed them to the edge of his mind for the moment, concentrating on Abbott’s summary of what they’d discovered in the last twenty-four.

  “The real Carleton Pierce graduated from high school the spring after Eddie Black hung his mother,” Abbott went on. “His home address was on a copy of the acceptance letter the university had sent. The real Carleton’s parents had died in an accident. He was taken in by a local family and the town came together to care for him. He graduated valedictorian, earned a full scholarship to the U. His town pitched in, bought him a used car, had a nice pot-luck to see him off, and never saw him again.”

  “He sent a thank-you card,” Kane said, “and a few Christmas cards. But he never came home. They had old high school yearbooks in the town library and they faxed us his picture. Their Carleton Pierce looked nothing like ours.”

  “So what happened to the real Carleton Pierce?” Ian asked.

  “We may never know,” Noah said. “Based on what we know of the real Eddie Black, the real Carleton Pierce is dead.”

  “We found a .22 slug in his wife’s head,” Ian said. “Same as the gun he used on Jeremy Lyons and the Bolyards.” He looked at Eve. “And to shoot you.”

  Noah pushed that image away, too. Eve was fine, but she almost hadn’t been.

  “We’ve pieced the story on Ann Pierce,” Noah said. He’d talked with her employer that morning. “She’d borrowed cash from a friend at work to book that flight to LA, the one she never showed up for. Apparently Ann Pierce had friends that Carleton didn’t know about. We think she dropped off the cat because she didn’t want to leave it alone, because she may have planned to kill Pierce herself.”