BATON ROUGE

by Carla Cassidy - Scene of the Crime 09 - BATON ROUGE

  If this was the right place, then how on earth had Bob managed to get the hostages through here? “Is there a waterway to the building where we’re going?” she asked Jesse, keeping her voice as soft as possible.

  “Yeah, you could get there by a pirogue, you’d just have to enter the area north of where we did,” Jesse replied.

  Georgina knew that a pirogue was a canoe-like boat and she also knew that the boats could be big enough to carry a body or two. Unfortunately, these boats weren’t registered through the state so there was no way of finding Bob by his means of transportation through the swampland, if that’s the way he traveled.

  With each step she took, she felt the muck beneath her feet suck harder, making the simple act of walking difficult. Her shoes and pants would be ruined, but that was a tiny sacrifice to make if they were successful in freeing the victims and catching Bob.

  The primal wildness that surrounded her added to the tension of the situation. The deeper they went into the marsh, the faster her heart beat, and a thin layer of perspiration began to coat her forehead.

  They’d all pulled their guns when they’d begun the trek, and hers now felt slippery in her hand as the sultry heat made sweat trickle down her back and streak from her hair.

  Get Bob. Free the captives. The two sentences became her mantra as they continued to walk for what felt like forever. Get Bob. Free the captives.

  Would Bob turn out to be Jax or Roger or would he be somebody they hadn’t even met, somebody who hadn’t hit their radar?

  Just when Georgina thought she couldn’t lift her mud-caked feet for another step, Jesse stopped and turned back to face them.

  “The building is just ahead. It’s on dry ground. I don’t know how you want to handle the approach,” he said. “I could go ahead and check it out, see if the people you’re looking for are there.”

  Alex frowned. “I appreciate the offer, but you’ve done your job by getting us here. I’d like it if you’d wait here to get us back out, but trained agents need to be the ones making contact from here.”

  Adrenaline flooded through her and she forgot about the muck, the sweat and the bugs as she realized they were within sight of the place that hopefully would end this case once and for all.

  “Matt and Frank, you go to the left of the building and Georgina and I will go right. Try to get close enough to look inside without being seen by anyone. We don’t want a hostage situation. We go in slow and quiet.” Alex’s terse voice spoke of the danger in the situation.

  “And if they’re in there and Bob isn’t anywhere to be seen?”

  “There has to be a front door of some kind. We’ll see what we can see and then if that’s the case we’ll meet at the front door to go in as a team.” He looked at Georgina. “Ready?”

  She nodded. She’d never been more ready for anything in her life. Her head filled with the sound of Macy’s voice asking for help. “Let’s get this done.”

  The four of them moved ahead where the path widened and although the area was heavily treed, the land rose higher than the swamp waters that surrounded it.

  Through the thick stand of trees and brush, she could see the structure, a rather small, concrete-block building. Small windows were set high at regularly spaced intervals, each sporting a rusty-looking set of bars.

  The place looked utterly abandoned, as if the swamp and the primordial wilderness had tried to swallow it whole. This was a place where people could scream and nobody would hear. This was a place that only a swamp rat would know about. And they’d already discerned that Bob was probably a spawn of the swamp.

  As the two pairs split up, Georgina’s heart banged painfully tight against her ribs as the first tinge of hope she’d felt since beginning this case filled her. The emotion pressed tight in her chest, making her feel almost dizzy with anticipation.

  They made their way stealthily through the brush and around the trees toward the right side of the building. Hopefully there would be a window somewhere on the side or in the back that would allow them to see inside without actually breaching the building.

  Let them be here, Georgina thought as she stayed close to Alex. Bugs bit at her and branches slapped her arms and legs as they worked through the woods and tried to stay covered from view.

  Her heartbeat raced even faster as they finally reached the side of the building and saw a door with a window. Alex exchanged glances with her and in his eyes she saw the same hope that jumped inside her very soul.

  Seeing nobody around and using the brush and trees to their advantage, they moved forward. Georgina got to the door first and carefully raised her head just enough to peek inside.

  Her heart dropped to the muddy ground beneath her. Empty. Abandoned. There was nobody inside to save and it appeared that nobody had been inside the structure for years and years.

  Alex muttered a curse as she turned and leaned against him, overwhelmed by the sense of defeat, of knowing that they were no closer to catching Bob and saving the victims than they’d been on the very first day that the task force had been formed.

  Wearily she straightened and headed back. Failure. The weight of it was an accustomed one, a reminder that she would never be good enough, had never been good enough for much of anything.

  Failure. It was the first thing she’d tasted when she’d been old enough to understand that she wasn’t what her family wanted, and she hated that the taste was no different now.

  * * *

  IT WAS AFTER SEVEN when Alexander left the FBI building with Georgina at his side. The disappointment that the entire team had suffered when they’d arrived back at the war room was palpable.

  He’d been so sure. He’d been so positive that they’d found the place where the captives were just waiting to be released from their cages.

  As he drove home, all he heard was the loud ticking of a clock in his head, an instinctive clock that told him time was quickly running out for Bob’s hostages.

  Seeing the location of the old jail, recognizing how many other places there could be in the back of any number of swamps, had shot a wave of discouragement through him that he hadn’t been able to shake no matter how hard he tried.

  He pulled into the driveway and together they got out of the car and went into the house. “Dinner?” She looked at him in question, her gaze holding a dull light of defeat.

  “I’m not really hungry. What I’d like is a nice stiff drink.”

  “I’m of a mind to join you,” she replied as she sat at the kitchen table.

  Alexander opened the cabinet that held his small liquor collection. “I’ve got whiskey, scotch and there might even be a bottle of wine up here.”

  “To hell with the wine. I’ll take scotch on the rocks,” she said.

  He looked at her with a raised brow. She normally wasn’t much of a drinker, other than an occasional glass of wine. But you don’t know what she’s done during the past two years, he reminded himself. Still, she’d always been a lightweight when it came to holding her liquor.

  He poured them both scotch on the rocks and then joined her at the table. Dark shadows rode the delicate skin beneath her eyes and her entire body appeared smaller, as if she’d pulled into herself. She wore the defeat of the day on her face and in her posture.

  She took a sip of the scotch and made a face. “I’ve never understood how people drink this stuff. I think it tastes awful.”

  “You want me to get you something else?”

  She shook her head. “No, tonight I need something strong and biting.” She released a weary sigh. “I was so sure we were right, Alex. I was so certain that we were at the end of the case and everything was going to be good. We were going to rescue everyone and get the bad guy behind bars.”

  “I know. I felt the same way. Seeing that empty, abandoned building kicked the stuffing out of m
y gut.” He downed his scotch in two swallows and then got up from the table, grabbed the bottle and returned. He poured himself another two fingers of the amber liquid.

  Georgina tipped up her glass and downed her drink, then gestured for him to refill her glass as well. He did so and then leaned back in his chair, a deep weariness settling heavily on his shoulders, into his very soul.

  “You have to promise me something, Alex,” she said, her green eyes the color of the swamp that had earlier surrounded them.

  “Promise what?” he asked.

  “Promise me that if this all goes bad, you won’t go back to that dark place where you went with the Gilmer case.”

  He turned his glass around and around between his hands as he stared down into the scotch. “There’s only been one thing that took me back to that dark place, one thing that took me even deeper into the darkness, and that was you walking out on me.”

  He looked up at her, his heart filled with the love he feared he’d always hold where she was concerned. “I thought the Gilmer darkness was bad, but the pit of darkness I fell into when you left me was even worse.”

  She broke eye contact with him and instead leaned back in her chair and released a deep sigh. “I thought it was the best thing to do for you.”

  She took another drink and he couldn’t help but notice that her cheeks had filled with pink spots of color, a sign that she was feeling the effects of the alcohol.

  When they’d been married he’d always known when she was getting tipsy by the blushing red that saturated her cheeks. Apparently she was still a lightweight when it came to alcohol.

  Maybe now was the time to have the conversation they’d never had, the one where she told him exactly what had driven her away from him.

  “You know what I hate most about Bob? I hate him because he got pieces of your past, he got your tears, he got from you things I never got from you.”

  “I told you before, that was something I didn’t want to drag into the marriage with you.” She took another sip of her scotch despite the fact that her voice already had a small slur. “Things were so good with us, I didn’t want you to know the ugliness of my past. I only told Bob about those things in an effort to help the case.”

  “I did a little research this morning on scapegoat child syndrome,” he confessed.

  She took another drink and then pushed her glass away. “Then you know the gist of what my childhood was like. Basically it stank.” She reached up and stroked her fingers through her short hair and cast him a slightly bitter, rueful smile. “When I was fourteen I had hair down below my shoulders. As a last-ditch effort to be what my father wanted me to be, I cut it all off.”

  She released a burst of laughter that was laced with pain, the pain she’d never shared with him. The pain he would do anything to assuage if only she’d allow him in. “Of course it didn’t work,” she continued. “I was the child who should have never been born and my family never let me forget it.”

  He wanted to hold her. He wanted to cradle her close and tell her how precious she was, what an amazing person she was despite her tragic beginnings, but she sat rigid in her chair, her chin uplifted in a defensive mode that kept him in his seat across from her.

  “You understand that it was never about you, that it was your parents who were dysfunctional.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Harkins,” she replied lightly, but with a faint hint of sarcasm. “Rationally I know that now. When I went into foster care I was told that again and again. The scars I carry are deep, but they’re old scars.”

  “I don’t think those scars are as healed over as you tell yourself they are,” he replied. He also shoved his glass away. He didn’t want to be tipsy to have this conversation with her. He wanted to be clearheaded with all his faculties intact when he asked her what had eaten at him for the last two years.

  “Why did you leave me, Georgina? Why wasn’t I enough for you? What could I have done differently to make you feel safe and secure enough to share it all with me? Why couldn’t I make you feel completely loved and not afraid to give love back?”

  “Oh, Alex, the problem was never you. It’s always been about me. It always will be me.” Her eyes grew misty as she held his gaze. “You’re right. Some of the scars aren’t as healed as I want them to be. I thought I could be normal. When I fell in love with you, I thought I could get married and have children and walk away from my childhood whole. But the truth of the matter is that I’m damaged goods, Alex. You deserve better and far more than what I could ever give to you.”

  “You’re wrong, Georgina. You were always all that I ever wanted, and you didn’t give me enough credit if you believed I couldn’t handle both the best and the very worst of you.” He leaned forward, his heart aching with all the emotions that had assailed him since the moment she’d left their marriage.

  She closed her eyes, as if to shut out whatever else he wanted to say. “It was the right thing for me to do,” she repeated. “I only wanted what was best for you, and that wasn’t me. That could never be me.”

  “Did you love me when you left me?” His heart hurt so much. “Georgina, open your eyes and look at me. I need to see your beautiful eyes when you answer me,” he said.

  She opened her eyes and their green depths were filled with such pain. “Yes, I loved you when I left. I left because I loved you so much.” Once again she threaded her fingers through her rich, dark hair.

  “When you were dealing with the aftermath of the Gilmer case, having bad dreams and so obviously in pain, I didn’t know what to say to you. I didn’t have the words to comfort you.” A single tear fell from each of her eyes and splashed down on her pink cheeks. “I knew then that I couldn’t be, would never be, enough for you.”

  Alexander couldn’t stand it any longer. He needed to touch her, to hold her. He got up from his chair and walked around the table to where she sat. As he touched her arm, she folded into herself, as if protecting herself from any onslaught that might hurt.

  “Georgina,” he whispered her name softly. Tears chased faster down her cheeks. “Honey, all you had to do for me was just be there. When I had my nightmares and I turned over in the bed, you were always there to hold me. I didn’t need words from you. I just needed to know that you were next to me. That was enough. You were enough.”

  He pulled on her arm and breathed a ragged sigh of relief when she unfolded, rose and fell into his embrace. She began to cry and he savored each of her tears, knowing they were a form of cathartic release she rarely allowed herself.

  She leaned weakly against him as he stroked his hands up and down her back. He relished her weakness as it was a gift she’d never given to him before. It was a sign that she trusted him enough to give him her tears.

  He knew it wouldn’t last long, that she would quickly pull herself together and be the strong, stubborn, independent woman she’d always been. But for now, he just wanted to hold her while she dealt with her pain.

  “I never stopped loving you, Georgina,” he said softly. “I tried to stop. I didn’t want to keep loving you, but I couldn’t help it. I’d see you in the hallway at work and it would be like an arrow piercing through my heart. There hasn’t been a day since our divorce that I haven’t wanted you back in this house, back in my life.”

  She’d stopped crying, but she didn’t move from his arms. He relished the feel of her so close against him, her heart beating rapidly against his own. This was where she belonged...in his arms forever.

  “Come back to me, Georgina. Come back and be my wife, my lover, my life partner. Nothing has been good since you left me.” He was baring his very soul to her, feeling more vulnerable than he’d ever felt in his life.

  She raised her head to look up at him, her eyes simmering with emotion. “Alex, I...”

  Whatever she was about to say was interrupted by a loud knock on the fro
nt door. They both froze and stepped apart.

  Alexander looked at his watch. It was almost ten. Who would be at his door at this time of night?

  “I’ll be right back,” he said to her. “We aren’t finished here, Georgina.”

  She released a sigh and nodded.

  As he walked to the door, he pulled his gun, unsure what or who to expect. It might be one of the team members dropping by with new information or it could be something else altogether.

  He looked out the peephole, and when he saw who was there, a shock of surprise swept through him. He holstered his gun and opened the door. “Hey, what’s going on?” He stepped out on the porch.

  Before he could speak another word, he felt a sharp sting in his upper back. He reached an arm up and felt the dart that still clung to his body.

  At the same time, a weakness attacked his muscles. He tried to remain upright, but his legs had turned to jelly and his brain felt wrapped in cotton.

  Trouble. Georgina was in danger.

  This was his final thought as he fell to the ground next to the stoop and the last of his consciousness slipped away.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Alex?” Georgina called from the kitchen when he didn’t immediately return. Who could he be talking to for so long and why hadn’t they come inside?

  “Alex, is everything okay?” She left the kitchen and her breath hitched in her chest as she met a masked man in the living room. Before she could draw her gun, a dart struck her in the chest.

  She stared down at it in disbelief at the same time she fumbled to get her gun from the holster. But nothing was working right. Her legs were going out from under her, and even when her hand finally landed on the butt of her gun, she didn’t have the strength to pull the weapon.

  She tried to speak, but her mouth wouldn’t form the words of panic, the scream of terror that was trapped inside her. He merely stood before her, his face hidden but blue eyes gleaming from the holes in the mask.

  “Just let go, Georgina. Give in to it. You can’t fight the drugs.”