She thought a moment. "I look as old as I want to look." Suddenly her eyes grew wide. "Oh no."
"What? Did you say something wrong? Did I get you in trouble?"
"No. My mommy’s getting too far away. You won't be able to hear my thoughts anymore."
Hear her thoughts? Was that the secret behind all of this? There was no time to process this new information. He pushed off the ledge. "You think we can catch her?"
"I don't know."
Jake lifted her by the armpits and set her on the floor. "Come on, let's try to catch her!"
They ran down the hallway and Jake stabbed the elevator button. A light yellow number three glowed above the doors. It was on the third floor! "Come on," he said, "we’ll take the stairs." He jogged down the hallway, keeping pace so Aiyana could keep up. If the pregnant lady next door was Aiyana’s mother, she would be close to the parking lot by now. Would they be able to catch her before she drove away?
He pushed into the stairwell and held the door for Aiyana. Her slight body lost its balance as she came through the opening, but she recovered without falling. It was amazing to see her push off the wall as if she were actually physically with him. There was even the subtle lack of motor coordination he would expect from a child her age. How could she only be a thought in his mind? She was so real!
They raced to the first floor and down the hallway to the right. There was a door that led to the parking lot, but it was only for emergencies. Jake didn’t care. He desperately wanted more time to talk to Aiyana. He pushed through the door.
No alarm sounded.
He spoke over his shoulder. "If you can think of anything we can tell your mother that would make her believe I'm not crazy, and that might keep her here till we can..." He glanced back, and slowed to a stop. The hallway was empty.
Aiyana was gone.
Chapter 31
Holly scratched her wrist nervously as she waited for the nurse to haul her off into her lair. It was a morbid thought, but she couldn't help it. There were so many odd qualities to this government-funded health center with its bullet proof glass, reinforced steel doors, and surveillance cameras. She felt like she was in the novel, 1984, by George Orwell, like her every move was being carefully monitored.
How odd it seemed that a health clinic, built to help women, should be so fortified and guarded. Every effort had been made to make the room feel plush and inviting, but fear floated in the air. The chum was in the water and the sharks were circling.
Holly had seen it first hand. The sweet middle-aged woman who had done her interview when she was pregnant with Gabe had never once suggested that she keep her baby. In her defense, she never said she should abort it either, but there was an understanding between them. The center wanted to help her make her troubles go away, and her troubles were all connected to the baby she wasn't ready to have.
It could have been her overactive imagination, but Holly never felt comfortable here. Though everything about the clinic was created to make women feel welcome, she always got the sense something was a little off.
"Holly?"
She looked up. A thin nurse who looked Holly's age stood in the doorway to the reception area. She wore an official white lab coat and carried a clipboard. "We're ready for you," she said.
Not sure if her legs would work, Holly stood. This was it. There was no turning back. Whatever agenda the kidnapper had, she was now a cog in the machinery. She didn't know where it would all lead, but if the first step was setting fire to this place, she was okay with that.
She followed the nurse into the reception area where they were buzzed through the door. The corridor beyond was thin, long, and mostly white. They went halfway down, took a left, and went halfway down the next hallway to a room marked examination room A.
"A?" Holly stammered.
The nurse turned around. "I’m sorry?"
"Examination room A?"
"Yes? Do you have a problem with that?"
Holly had to think fast. What problem did she have with that? Why hadn't she come up with a pre-made excuse? Events were moving too quickly; her brain felt like it was wrapped in cellophane.
"My, ah, sister had a really bad experience in room A," she lied, "and I'm already so nervous, would it be okay to use another?"
"I'm sorry to hear about your sister. We have another room down the hall if you'd prefer."
"I would appreciate that so much. I'm sorry to be a pain."
"Oh, you're no pain," she said. "Follow me. We'll take you down to exam room B."
Holly didn't have to fake her emotions; she was relieved to be going to the right room, and relieved that the nurse was so eager to please. They continued down the hall and to the right, then halfway down the next.
"Here we are," said the nurse. She went right into the exam room. Holly studied the foreboding door across the hall—the door she had been tasked to infiltrate. In its center was a black nameplate with white letters. The name on the plate made her heart squeeze in her chest. Gary Carter. Her eyes widened. Was he the killer? If he was, then why would he send a bomb to his own office? And if he wasn’t... If he wasn’t, then he was at least connected to him in some way? Her throat constricted. Was this a trap? Had she been lured here for something else?
Without realizing it, Holly stepped too near the office door and the device in her purse made the lock beep. Holly leaped back toward the opposite wall. She stood motionless. Did the nurse hear the beep? Holly saw a vision of the nurse dragging her across the hall to make the door beep again, but she forced it from her mind and stepped into the doorway of examination room B.
The nurse stood with her back to Holly. "Come in and have a seat." She flipped through the papers on her clipboard. Either the noise of the papers had covered the sound of the beep, or the nurse was so used to hearing it, she’d tuned it out. Whatever the reason, Holly was relieved.
She sat down on the sterile exam bed; her body took on a rigidity as the tactile feel and sound of the paper brought the haunting memory of her last visit to the surface. It was the single most traumatic moment of her life. She remembered sitting there like a wounded animal, frightened and alone—hoping for someone to remove from her body the object of her suffering, and yet feeling strangely protective of it.
"All right, Holly,” the nurse said in a friendly voice, "what is your full name and date of birth?”
Holly cleared her throat. "Holly Anne Paris. June 27, 1992.”
"Very good, very good.” She flipped a page. "Our records say you've been here before,"
"Yes," she said, "about six years ago." Her voice quivered.
"There is nothing to be nervous about. This is just a routine checkup."
"Okay," she said, gripping her purse harder than she should have.
"Do you want me to take that and put it somewhere safe till you're done?" she said, cheerfully, holding out her hand.
"No thanks..." Holly gripped it harder, and didn't offer a reason, because she didn't have one to give.
The nurse let her hand hover for a moment, then withdrew it and swiveled back to her paperwork. "Everything looks good."
Holly could hardly breathe, and her ribs had started a periodic shiver which was getting harder to conceal.
The office chair squeaked. "Here," said the nurse holding out a johnny. "Put this on and when you’re ready, open the door, okay?"
Holly took the folded cloth and set it on her lap.
The nurse gave a friendly smile. "See you in a few minutes."
Holly sat shaking. It wasn't too late to call it off. She could just get up and walk out. And there was no way she would submit herself to a doctor's exam. She hated those exams under normal circumstances. But to allow herself to be probed by a doctor in such a vulnerable manner at the request of this freak was unimaginable. It would be as if the serial killer himself were the examiner.
Her anger had a dampening effect on her fear, and she squeezed out every bit of it she could. She took the plastic medical g
loves from her purse and slid them over her trembling fingers, then placed the johnny on the papered bed and peeked out the door. There were people talking, but the sound was distant and muffled. She peeked out further. No one was up the hall. No one was down the hall. This was it. All she had to do was hurl herself to the door and push her way through.
She felt like a diver standing on a high cliff, contemplating whether to obey her fear or rise to the challenge. She closed her eyes and pushed everything away. Sometimes rising to the occasion was a simple matter of disregarding the consequences, and sadly, that was a skill Holly had almost perfected.
She launched herself across the hall, listened for the beep, and pushed through into the dark office beyond.
Chapter 32
Jake sat on the front steps of The Schoolhouse with his head in his hands and his fingers clutching chunks of his curly brown hair. The stress of the last twenty-four hours had finally caught up with him, and had struck with a vengeance. Every time he felt he was making progress, the solution would dance away, mocking him as it went. If these children had some kind of connection to God and angels, then why were they taunting him with mysteries? Why not come out and say what they’d been sent to tell him? Why not show him what he was supposed to do? Was he doing something wrong? Was he chasing the wrong child?
No. She was the right one, somehow he felt sure of it. Clearly Aiyana wasn't the one with the answers, but maybe she could lead him to the answers? Her mother said she was going to the hospital...
Jake looked up.
What better place to find these supernatural children than at the maternity ward? He stood. If these children had a connection to something beyond this world, and if this ability to see and talk to them had been given to him to save Gabe, then that was where he needed to be.
But first he needed to check in with Dan to make sure he hadn't missed anything. He pulled his phone out and pressed Dan's number onto the pad.
"Heylo?" said Dan.
"Hey, Dan. Any news on Gabe?"
"Not yet, bud. I'm sorry."
"How’s Holly doing?"
"Honestly, Jake, I don't know. She’s acting even weirder today. Maybe it’s lack of sleep. I don't know."
"What do you mean weirder?"
"Well, yesterday all she could think about was finding information on the serial killer and figuring out which one of her friends could be involved. She was an emotional wreck. Then it was like a switch went off and she just stopped. I thought maybe she was just exhausted, you know, from the stress of it all, but today was the same. She hasn't mentioned looking for Gabe at all."
"Maybe she's burnt out."
"If my kid was missing I'd be knocking down every door in the city."
"Well there’s only so much she can do without a solid lead. That's where I'm at with this whole thing. I can't do a better job than the FBI, so I'm doing the only thing I can by trying to find out if these ghosts are here to help. It’s absolutely crazy, but I feel like they’re my only chance to make a difference. Holly doesn't have any weird ghost-children to chase, so maybe she's just shutting down because she doesn't have anything to occupy her mind. The stress is probably getting to her."
"Yeah, that makes sense."
"So, what is she doing now? Resting?"
"No. She had an appointment and she brought me along. That was kinda why I mentioned the whole thing about her not thinking about Gabe. I think it’s weird that she would go to an appointment, you know, while all this is going on. But I guess it makes sense. She said it was important, and maybe she's trying to keep her mind off of Gabe by staying busy."
"What kind of appointment is it?"
"Apparently some kind of screening. She says her doctor thinks it’s probably nothing, but he wanted to check her for something. She didn't say what."
"Okay, well, let me know if you need me and I'll come right over."
"Where are you now? Have you figured out who these kids are yet?"
"I’m at my place. The little girl, Aiyana, revealed some interesting things. Whatever they are, they have some kind of contact with angels and other supernatural stuff. I'm hoping that means they can find things out, like, where the killer is holding Gabe."
"That rocks, man. I wonder if you're the first person in history to be a ghost whisperer?"
"I don't know, but I can't wait till whatever this thing is passes and I can go back to being normal again."
"I'd book myself on the talk show circuit and make a million dollars."
He let out a wry laugh. "I’d give a million dollars to have my sanity back."
"Is it that bad?"
"Worse."
"Okay," Dan’s tone changed. "So what are you doing now?"
"I'm going to look for more children to see if I can get my last few questions answered. Until Holly finds something I can help with, or the FBI discovers something new, it's all I can think of."
"See if you can get next week's lottery numbers."
Jake groaned. "Yeah, I'll put that right up on the top of my list, Dan."
"Sorry."
"Call me if anything develops."
"I will, man."
"All right. Keep an eye on Holly, don't let her do anything suicidal."
"We-ll, Jake. If she's going to kill anyone, I'm pretty sure it will be me."
Chapter 33
Angela Grant followed the agents from the SBI over to the Doris Boardman Clinic. They’d offered to take care of it themselves, but she wanted to keep her standing as point on this case, so she respectfully declined. Interagency cooperation and matters of jurisdiction were her least favorite part of the job, especially since she was a woman. She constantly had to work harder and fiercer in order to earn the respect of the agents around her. There was no room for mistakes.
She got out of the car with Perez and met the two men from the surveillance team and the SBI officers on the sidewalk. "What’s the situation?"
Agent Blake, from the surveillance team, fielded the question. "There’s been no sign of the suspect and no suspicious activity in the parking lot."
She gave a reserved nod and started up the path toward the clinic.
"There is one thing I think you'll find interesting, though," he added.
She paused. "Yes?” There was a twinge of irritation in her voice. "And what would that be, Agent Blake?" She wasn't a fan of surprises. If there was information to be relayed, she preferred a direct laundry list.
"Holly Paris showed up just before nine. She is currently on the premises."
First Jake Paris showed up at Carter's home, now his sister was at Carter's work. Was there a connection? "Do we know why Miss Paris is at the clinic?"
Blake stepped up to her and leaned in. "The women's center played the client confidentiality card, but you might want to ask the young man in the rust bucket what he knows." He looked in the direction of the vehicle. "He showed up with her; he’s been in the car waiting."
Angela looked toward the rusted white Sunbird, but there was no one visible inside the car. Her eyes rose up to meet Blake's. He stood a foot taller than her, but she equalized the size difference by giving him a look of boredom to communicate her lack of interest in playing his game.
Agent Blake lifted his chin. "Oh, he's in there."
Angela strolled over to the car and looked down into the passenger's seat. Its occupant was curled down over the stick shift with his back to her, but she recognized his clothing. It was the young man who’d come to Holly’s apartment with Jake Paris. Angela rapped on the side of the car.
Dan flew up to a sitting position. "Oh, hey. I didn't see you there. I was looking for change, you know, for the poor."
"You're Jake's friend, right?"
He looked up sheepishly. "Yes?"
"Did you come with Holly Paris?"
"Yeah. She has an appointment."
"And you're just innocently waiting for her, doubled over in the front seat, hiding from the authorities?"
"Well when yo
u put it like THAT it sounds suspicious."
"It is suspicious." She groped her memory for his name. "Dan, is it?"
"Yeah."
"Did Holly tell you why she’s here, Dan?"
"I told you."
"Did she have a weapon on her?"
"No, not that I know of. Why would she?"
"How was she acting? Was she in an agitated state?"
"That's the only state she's ever in. Truth be told, I think she is the governor of that state."
Angela maintained a neutral expression. "Did she leave you any instructions?"
"Yeah, wait in the car and don't say anything that would indict her with the federal government. I said I'm all over that first one, but you might be in trouble if they start sliding bamboo shoots under my fingernails. I'm delicate."
"You do realize it’s a crime to mislead a federal officer?"
"I'm being straight with you. I don't know anything. She's here for an appointment, and I'm waiting for her. When I saw you guys, I don't know—I guess I got weirded out."
"And why is that? Would it have anything to do with the fact that her appointment is at the workplace of a suspected serial killer—a man she may believe is holding her son with the intention of killing him?"
Dan's jaw dropped. It was obvious he was unaware of the connection. "Is it—Amber’s boyfriend? He works here? Are you kidding me?"
"You were not aware of this?"
"No," he said in utter shock.
"Did Holly know?"
"If she did, she didn't tell me about it."
"Was she acting suspicious?"
"She always acts suspicious."
"Did she tell you her reasons for coming to this appointment during this crisis with her son?"
"She hinted at it being a checkup for, I don’t know, something serious like cancer or something. I figured that made sense."
Health centers did do checks for ovarian cancer—and that would certainly be a valid, though unlikely, reason for her to come to the clinic while her son was still being held by a known murderer... But the pieces didn't quite slide together. There was something else going on, something Dan was probably oblivious to. He didn't strike her as the type who could hide anything.
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