"Are you all right, Mr. Paris?" The voice of Agent Grant dragged him back to reality. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Yes," he said, spinning in the doorway. "I mean, not yes I've seen a ghost, but yes I'm all right, here, standing here. Ma'am."
He felt a smack on his leg and glanced down without moving his head or neck.
"You shouldn't posh peepoe. Is not powite."
He withdrew from her.
Agent Grant spoke in an even tone. "Would you like to rejoin us? Or would you like me to have someone escort you to a more comfortable location?"
"I'm sorry," he said, taking his seat again, "I was curious about what they were saying in the other room," he lied, hoping that would explain his trip to the doorway, and save him from getting kicked out of the apartment for acting suspicious—like eves dropping on official business didn’t look suspicious.
"You can relax, Jake. We're not keeping anything from you. They're doing the same thing we're doing, covering all that we know so far and determining what has to happen next. You're not going to hear anything in there that you wouldn’t hear directly from me."
Jake nodded.
"Now, the person we’re looking for probably has military training of some kind; he has access to technology that is military grade. We think, because he spends months placing roots in a new location, he may have let his guard down and mentioned things he shouldn't have. He might have shown a knowledge in military weaponry, or tactics..."
The Cabbage Patch girl walked into the kitchen, dragging her stuffed rabbit on the cigarette-stained linoleum. She stopped, firmly erect, two feet from Jake, and said, "Um posed to tell you sumpin."
Jake looked down at her discreetly.
Apparently, this irritated her, because her body stiffened and her voice raised. "Um posed to tell you sumpin!"
Jake's head snapped up, expecting a response from the others at the table, but all eyes remained on Agent Grant.
The girl folded her arms and stared at him again with her piercing blue eyes. What did she expect him to do? He wasn't about to have a conversation with an invisible child, and reveal to the world that he had completely lost his mind.
Had he lost his mind? It was beginning to look like a real possibility. Jake squirmed in his chair, preparing himself for her complete and utter meltdown, but it didn't come. Instead, she let out a huff, and left the room.
He wanted to chase after her, but Agent Grant had probably dealt with enough craziness for one day. So he sat, immobile, watching the door, hoping she would return and tell him her message. Who was she? What was she supposed to tell him? Who sent her? If she was a ghost, then whose ghost was she? A realization occurred to him. Could she be the ghost of one of the Cape murderer’s victims? Was he seeing their ghosts?
He waited for an opening in the conversation. "Agent Grant?"
"Yes, Jake?"
"What did the other children look like? The other victims?"
Her eyebrow raised. "You think there might be a physical connection between the children?"
He followed her lead and made his questions sound as though he were curious about what traits the children shared. "Were they all the same age?"
"No. The first little boy was six, like Gabe, but the last was five. The two girls were two-and-a-half and five."
This little Cabbage Patch kid, Kara, looked to be around two-and-a-half.
"Gabe has blond hair, did the others?"
"No. The first boy had brown hair, and one of the little girls had brown hair. There is no commonality between the five of them."
"Which girl had brown hair?"
"The older one. The little one was blond. But there are no common traits they all share. It's a good theory, Mr. Paris, but I'm afraid it's a dead end." She turned back to her notes.
"Was she chubby?"
Agent Grant looked up; her eyes narrowed.
"The little blond girl, was she chubby?"
"How is this relevant to the case?"
Jake struggled to find a reason she would accept, but found nothing. He had to let it go. Besides, the information was probably online.
"Yes, Mr. Paris. She was chubby."
His eye flitted up. Did she actually say what he thought she’d said? One of the victims was a chubby, blond, two and a half-year-old girl. Jake looked back toward the living room.
Agent Grant folded the top down on her laptop. "Well, I guess we're done here. If any of you can think of anything else that will help in the investigation, you have my card. Call the office and file it with the agent on duty. In the mean time we’ll work with what we have."
Jake got up and walked to the living room. Only three officers remained.
And there was no trace of the little girl.
Chapter 9
After the law enforcement officers had all left, Holly excused herself and went into the bathroom. She didn't look well, and Jake knew why. She had gotten back into drugs in the last couple of years. It was one of the reasons he hadn't been around to visit. He couldn't bear to see what she was doing to herself, and it had been nearly impossible for him to resist the urge to start a fight and take Gabe home with him. Instead of being strong and doing the right thing, he ran from the situation, like his mother had so often done. He had not been the big brother he should have been, but now he was hoping to correct that course.
While she was in the bathroom, hopefully evacuating her system of toxins and not digging out some hidden stash, Jake seized the opportunity to bring Dan up to speed.
"Dan, I saw a little girl while Agent Grant was talking."
"I thought you were acting weird."
"She looked around two-and-a-half and was blond and pudgy." He paused, waiting for a look of comprehension to descend upon Dan's face. But of course, none came. "It's her!" he whispered hoarsely.
"Who?"
"One of the victims!"
There it was, the look of comprehension. "Yeah, she did say that! Are you kidding me? That's awesome!"
Jake looked through the kitchen toward the bathroom door, which was still closed. "Keep it down. I don't want my sister in on this. This is crazy people stuff, our relationship is strained enough."
"What did she say? Did she tell you who he is? Who the killer is..."
"No, well, she said her name was Kara and that she was supposed to tell me something. That’s pretty much all I got."
"That’s it?"
"Yeah."
"What was she supposed to tell you?"
"How would I know?!” He glared at his friend. "This thing is getting weirder by the minute."
"Weird left the building with Elvis, man. This is way beyond weird."
"Maybe these—ghosts—are being sent to me as messengers to lead me to the killer." A hint of relief passed over him. "What else could it be? That has to be it."
"It's as good a theory as any."
Even if it wasn't true, Jake allowed himself to believe it. Hope, even misplaced hope, had the effect of a healing balm on the heart.
"Where is she now?" Dan got to his feet.
"I don't know. She came in here, then went back out there, then she was just gone."
Dan looked in the closet and behind the couch.
"I already looked for her, she's gone. And besides, you can’t see her anyway."
Dan bolted to the door. "Maybe she's in the hallway." He was gone for several seconds, then returned with a sullen face.
Jake wanted to get frustrated at the thought of her being unreachable, but something deep inside reassured him that these ghosts were here to help. It couldn’t be a coincidence that they started showing up the day his nephew went missing.
Holly returned from the bathroom in a more recessed mood than when she went in.
Jake attempted to comfort her, but knew it would not be well received. "You okay, Holly?"
She gave him a cold look. "Save your big brother act, it's just us."
"I came over because I care."
"I saw
you while we were talking to Agent Grant. The last place you wanted to be was here. You hardly looked at her the whole time she was talking."
"I was trying to hear what they were talking about in the other room."
She tilted her head. "Why are you here, Jake? Is this your chance to take Gabe from me? Are you waiting for your chance to swoop in and be his hero?"
"If that were my goal, he would already be living with me."
"Oh really!"
"Do we have to do this, Holly? I'm here for you, I've always been here for you. You're my sister. I don't always like how you behave but..."
"Well I'm sorry I haven't lived up to your exacting standards, Jake! We can't all be perfect like you."
Dan stepped in. "Guys! We don't have time for this. We have to figure out what we know, and get Gabe back. We should be thinking about him right now."
Whether it was exhaustion or an overwhelming surge of emotion, Jake didn't know, but Holly started to crumble to the ground. He reached out and pulled her into his arms. They fell against the couch and Holly began to shake and cry uncontrollably. Her voice was desperate and weak. "I'm sorry, Jake. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm such a screw-up..."
He held her tighter. "We're okay, Holly. We're going to be okay."
"I break everything I touch." She shivered. "And I don't know how to stop. I don't know how to stop being a screw-up. I don't know how to be strong for him. What is wrong with me?"
"We're going to get through this."
"I'm not strong enough to save him, Jake. And I'm afraid. I'm so afraid I'll never get him back. Even if they save him, I'll never get him back."
"We'll get him back, Holly. Shhhh, it’s okay." He rubbed her back.
Her voice became a whisper, and tears poured from her eyes. "I need him so much, Jake. Don't take him from me. Please don't take him from me."
He held her and let her cry. There was nothing else he could say. He couldn't make her believe that he was not there to take Gabe away. That was something Holly had to figure out on her own. His words were empty. Only actions would prove his love was real. Despite all her flaws, she was still his sister, and he loved her, unconditionally.
He had tried to be a good brother, but her destructive behavior seemed to always pour out into his life. That was why he’d started pulling away. It wasn't a lack of love, it was self-preservation.
Once he started getting his life on track, it seemed wise for him to not be around at all. He couldn't stand to see her and Gabe surrounded by the destruction of her bad choices, and she’d refused to listen to him. He thought it was pride and stubbornness, but he could see now that it was simply weakness. Holly was just like their mother. She didn't have the strength to face life, so she ran to drugs to numb the pain. She ran to men to rescue her, but they weren't men, they were boys controlled by their own appetites. They offered easy access to the drugs she craved but lacked the moral fiber and willpower to be the hero she needed. She needed someone faithful, someone honest, someone stable.
Jake looked at Dan perched on the edge of the couch like a stone gargoyle, watching patiently for an opportunity to help, like a hero, waiting to swoop in and save the day. Jake had never considered it before, but Dan was a stand-up guy, in spite of his quirks. He was good to his family, held down a steady job, and kept a clean lifestyle—even with the decay of western society all around him. How different would both their lives have been if she had responded positively to that letter? Maybe he would have done anything for Holly. Maybe she would have been his inspiration, challenging him to do more with his life; find a house, get a better paying job, come out of the cocoon of his living room and breathe fresh air once in awhile. Maybe he would have been the stability she needed to raise her son right, living a clean, happy life.
Jake looked down at Holly, and his chest puffed out slightly as he choked back his own emotion. The wrong man was holding his sister. She didn't need a big brother, she needed a hero, and, even with his mild quirks, Dan Clark was the man for the job. All Jake had to do was get Holly to stop loathing him.
Chapter 10
Holly was spent, so Jake left her on the couch with a cold compress. He turned the television on low in case there were any updates, then went into the kitchen to talk with Dan.
"She going to be okay?" asked Dan, looking past him through the door.
"Yeah. She just needs some time."
"She having withdrawals?"
"Yeah. That’s definitely part of it, but I think mostly she’s just been through the ringer emotionally. There’s a lot going on in her head right now. She doesn't know how to process it."
"Is there anything we can do?"
"We just need to keep pumping the water into her and let her rest. When she’s ready, she'll come out of it." Jake got a cloth from under the sink and wet it down with cold water. "These will help too. Go swap this with the one on her head."
Dan’s eyes widened. "Me?"
"Yeah. Why not?"
"She hates me, Jake."
"She doesn't hate you. She just doesn't get your humor."
"I'm pretty sure I saw hatred when she saw me on the steps. She won't admit it, but she saw that letter. She saw it—and she hates me."
"That was a million years ago, she doesn’t hate you.”
"She caught me staring at her one time in gym class. She told me then she hated me.”
Jake stared at his friend a moment, then stuffed the cloth into Dan's hand. "Just do it. Maybe she'll hate you less."
Jake watched as Dan took the cloth into the living room and replaced the one on Holly's forehead. Holly's eyes opened to slits, and her face tightened. Jake’s best guess was she didn't like having anyone see her like this, least of all Dan. But somewhere in there, there had to be a twinge of gratitude.
Dan returned with a told you so look on his face.
Jake grabbed the cloth from his hand. "Hey, Rome wasn't built in a day."
Dan circled him and leaned on the counter. "What are you up to, Jake?"
"What do you mean?"
"Rome wasn't built in a day?" He pointed at the cloth. "And the whole put a cloth on her forehead thing? Are you trying to—you know—get me and Holly together?"
"Don't you like her?"
"Yeah, in the eighth grade!"
"Shhhh. Keep it down."
He leaned in close. "Jake. A lot has changed since the eighth grade."
"Look. I'm not thinking straight, okay? I lost my job, my nephew has been taken by a serial killer—I’m seeing ghosts. I’m a little messed up right now, just trying to play damage control. If that freak kills Gabe, he'll be killing Holly too. She needs someone stable, someone strong."
"No offense man, but I don't think I have what it takes to put a reign on your sister. She’s about as wild as they come."
"You could use some excitement in your life."
"My life has plenty of excitement thank you very much."
"You work at the bank all day, and you sit in your living room all night, every night, like you've given up on life."
Dan folded his arms. "I like my life."
"You need to get out of virtual reality and step into the real world, and Holly, my friend, is as real as it gets."
"I'm not gonna lie, Jake, I think she’s beautiful, I mean really beautiful, but I can't be with someone who does drugs. And she has a kid." He brought his hands up apologetically. "A great kid I’m sure, but he doesn't even know me."
Jake looked at his sister curled up on the couch, and his heart ached for her. "This isn't my sister, Dan. This is not the life she wants, but she feels trapped. She needs someone strong who can show her the way out."
Dan’s eyebrows rose. "There’s only one problem with your plan, Jake. She...” he gestured dramatically toward the living room, "hates my...” he pointed at himself, "guts.”
"Never-mind. Forget I said anything." Jake went over to the kitchen table, slid a chair out, and slumped down into it. His sister wasn't the only one struggling w
ith the stress of the day, but he couldn't afford to take it out on Dan.
Dan took a seat across from him, and they quietly waited for the heaviness to leave. Dan was the first to speak. "So, what do we do now? Just wait?"
"Well, Holly is no condition to brainstorm with us, so I guess waiting is all we can do. The FBI has a list of leads. Maybe something will pan out."
"What about the ghost kids?"
"I don't know if I even want to think about that. If they are ghosts—and I don’t think I’m ready to believe that yet. But if they are, and if they were sent to help, why didn’t they help? And where are they now?"
"Why don't you go look for them?"
"How am I going to do that?"
"Well, you know what they look like, right? The girl at your place, the two boys, and the girl here.
Jake looked up. "You’re right. There were four of them, the same as the number of victims. The girl here looked like the two-and-a-half-year-old Agent Grant talked about. Do you remember what she said about the others, what they looked like?"
Dan rubbed his thick neck. "I don't remember. She didn't give much of a description. Just ages and hair color." His hand fell to his side. "But I could look online."
"Holly doesn't have a computer."
"We could go to my place."
Jake looked into the living room again. "No, I don’t want to leave Holly alone. And there’s no way I am ever bringing her up to your place."
Dan frowned. "Yeah, it is kind of a mess.”
"Ya think?”
"Hey, how about you go get my laptop. I’ll plug it into my cellphone and run off the cell signal."
"That's actually a good idea."
Dan scowled. "What? I don't have good ideas?"
Jake ignored his wounded look. "I'll go grab your laptop and then stop by my apartment building to see if I can find that first little girl. You watch over Holly and call me if you hear from the FBI, or if there is a news update."
It wasn't much of a plan, but it was something.
Chapter 11
Angela Grant and Agent Perez pulled up in front of a commercial construction site on the eastern edge of Sunbury in a black sedan. Agent Grant shifted into park and surveyed the possible exit points. "How sure are we on this intel?" she said.
UNSEEN Page 6