Blood of Eden

by Tami Dane

  “Okay.” I pleaded silently, Please tell me it wasn’t true. I crossed my arms over my chest.

  “I ... um ...” JT glanced down at his hands, and I got a sick feeling in my stomach.

  “It’s true?” I asked.

  “Not exactly.”

  What did that mean? “Okay.”

  “You know I wouldn’t do anything to risk your job, or your reputation.”

  “I thought I knew that.” I took a little step back, suddenly feeling like he was standing too close. “But ... well ...”

  “I made the mistake of trusting someone I shouldn’t have.”

  Shit!

  My heart started thumping so hard, I could hear each beat in my head. “First, why would you tell anyone anything at all? And second, why would you lie? We’re not sleeping together.”

  “I wanted to arrange a surprise for you. And I needed this other person’s help.”

  I shoved my fingers through my matted hair. “And now, thanks to this ‘other person,’ I’m viewed as the bureau’s ho.”

  “No.” JT reached for me, but when I flinched, he dropped his arms to his sides. “Nobody sees you that way. Your friend is exaggerating.”

  I wanted to believe JT—I really did. But why would I? Here I was, the new girl, allegedly already doing the nasty with one of her superiors. Even if people didn’t say it, they were thinking I was the office whore, trying to sleep my way up the ranks.

  I guess that left me with two options.

  I could leave the bureau, letting people believe what they wanted.

  Or I could prove them wrong. And the first step in proving them wrong would be to solve our case.

  Which would it be? Option A or B?

  Option B, of course.

  Now I didn’t just have something to prove to myself. But I had something to prove to a lot of people. And by God, I was going to do it, creepy monster stalker or not.

  My decision made, I cleared my throat. “There are a lot of things about you I really like.” His butt, for one. And his dimples. And his smile. And the way he held me and made me feel safe. “But if I’m going to have any hope of getting past this and having a career in the FBI, I need to work hard and prove myself. I don’t need distractions or rumors or innuendo. I need a partner I can trust.”

  “That, you will always have.”

  I took another step back. “I’m sorry it has to be this way.” That was no lie. Looking at him now, I felt my heart ache a little. The truth was, those little moments we’d shared were some of the most thrilling I’d ever had, with any man. To think I’d never again see that naughty glimmer in his eye, or that slightly lopsided evil smile....

  Making me feel even worse, I imagined him giving another woman that lopsided smile.

  My heart hurt.

  But at this stage in my life, my career was much more important. And so was his. This thing wasn’t doing him any favors either, I was guessing. If I had to remind myself of that from now until the day I retired from the bureau, then that was what I’d do.

  I forced myself to lift my chin and stand a little straighter. “Now I think I’m going to get dressed and go for a jog. Is the team still set up over at the bank-owned house in Clarksville?”

  “ No.”

  “That’s okay. You can follow me from a distance. I wasn’t crazy about that stupid wire, anyway. You’re welcome to help yourself to some water. I’ll be out in a few.”

  “Thanks.” JT headed for the kitchen.

  I hurried to my room, wriggled myself into a sports bra, and threw on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Before heading out to the kitchen for some much-needed caffeine, I scraped my hair into a ponytail, brushed my teeth, and smeared some concealer over the huge purple circles under my eyes. It didn’t help much. I fluffed on a little blush and glossed up my lips in an attempt to look somewhat presentable. I carried a fresh pair of socks and my running shoes out to the kitchen.

  JT handed me a full mug of coffee. I thanked him, trying to pretend I hadn’t felt a little something when our fingertips grazed as he handed me the cup. I dumped a lot of powdered creamer in the cup and guzzled it.

  JT refilled mine and his. He picked a file off the counter. “I hope you don’t mind. I looked at this while you were dressing.”

  “Oh. Um, no.” I dug in the cabinet for something to eat and scored a box of Pop-Tarts. I offered a package to him.

  He ripped open the foil wrapper. “This is very interesting stuff.” He motioned toward the file, which he’d set back on the counter.

  “It’s my father’s research. I’d never read any of it. But after what’s happened to me, I thought it was time to take a look.”

  “Do you mind if I read a little too?”

  “No. Not at all.”

  “Thanks.” He headed to the living room, while I put on my shoes. He had gathered one stack of folders in his arms. “I’ll return these as soon as I get a chance to read through them.”

  “Take your time. As you see, there’s plenty left for me to go through.” I motioned toward the door. “Ready to head out?”

  “Yep.”

  We met Mom out in the parking lot. Evidently, she was still on the job. She waved at us from her car. I went over and poked my head in the window.

  “Hey, there,” I said. “We’re heading up to the Clarksville house. Are you hungry?”

  “Maybe a little.”

  “It’s not your favorite, but I supposed it’s better than nothing.” I handed her a package of S’Mores Pop-Tarts.

  “Thanks, honey.” Wrinkling her nose, she ripped the wrapper and pulled one of the pastries out. “I had a feeling you’d go to work today.”

  “Yeah, I can’t sit around.”

  “You never could. Just like your father.” Mom filled her mouth with pastry and smiled. “Not bad. Not bad at all.”

  “Okay, I’m going to head out now.”

  Mom’s expression turned serious. “Be careful.”

  “Will do.”

  “Love you!” she called to me as I hurried toward my car.

  JT met me in the middle of the parking lot. He insisted on driving, so we took his car. During the short drive, I skimmed some of the files he’d taken. He parked in the driveway; Mom parked farther down the street, where she’d be less conspicuous. He and I went into the house.

  There was a dead mouse lying on the foyer floor. Probably the attack cat’s latest victim. JT took the stiff rodent to the garage, while I reluctantly investigated the rest of the house. No sign of a cat. No sign of any other visitors either.

  “I’d love to find out where that beast is hiding,” I told JT when he came back in from the garage. He looked a little pale. “What’s wrong?”

  “I called 911. Come here!” He turned around and ran back into the garage.

  “Why? What is it?” Bracing myself for what had to be a gruesome sight, to make JT look so sickly, I followed. Inside the garage, the air was hot, and it smelled like gasoline and warm rubber. Sprawled on the concrete floor was a child. A little girl. I recognized the clothes. “Oh, my God! It’s Tutu Girl.” I rushed to her side and dropped to my knees. “Is she breathing?”

  “Yes.” JT gently rolled her over. “And she has a steady pulse.”

  “I know this little girl. She lives down the street. She’s the missing child Gabe’s team has been searching for.”

  “Call the chief. And open the garage door. It’s hotter than hell in here.”

  I shot to my feet and went in search of the button to start the automatic garage door opener. Moments later, the door lifted, and a cool breeze blew through the growing gap between the floor and the bottom of the door. Then I went in search of my purse, which I’d left in JT’s car. I called the chief’s cell phone. She answered on the second ring, and I told her what had happened. Meanwhile, Mom came jogging up to me and tried to tell me something, while I tried to give chief the rundown. As I shushed Mom and blurted out the few sketchy details I had for the chief, the ambula
nce rolled up in front of the house, lights flashing. I pointed the EMT toward the garage and ended the call with the chief, following him. A second EMT followed me, pulling a gurney. Mom hung back, down at the end of the driveway.

  JT and I answered questions as the two men checked the little girl’s pulse, respiration, and heart rate. A marked police car rolled up as they were putting in an IV. The officer asked me questions, and I answered them, telling him where the little girl lived. He headed down to the house to see if anyone was home. Feeling helpless, I stood there and watched as the EMTs lifted the child onto the bed.

  “Is she going to be okay?” I asked as they rolled her down the driveway, toward the waiting ambulance.

  “Yeah, I think so. She’s dehydrated. Other than that, she looks okay.”

  I sucked in a lungful of air. “Thank you.” I felt JT behind me. He didn’t touch me, but it was still reassuring having him there. I looked around for Mom, but I didn’t see her. Probably headed back to her car. I glanced down at my hands. They were shaking. My insides twisted into a knot.

  I had no idea I could be so upset about seeing someone else’s child sick or hurt. Made me wonder if I could handle a case involving a kid, if my emotions would get to me.

  “It’s never easy when it’s a kid,” JT said, as if he could read my mind. “They get to guys who’ve been on the job for decades.”

  “That’s not reassuring.”

  “The important thing is how you handle it. If you can keep doing the job, you’ll be okay.”

  If I could keep doing the job.

  “How about we head to the office and take a look at those files?” JT offered.

  “No.” I mentally pulled up my bootstraps.

  JT’s eyebrows rose. “No?”

  I hitched up my chin. “I’m going for my run. And you’re going to follow me.”

  “Are you sure? You look like you didn’t sleep at all last night and—”

  “I didn’t. And you know why. But, like you said, I have to keep doing my job. If I do, I might save somebody’s life.”

  “Okay.” He gave me a pat on the shoulder. “You’re tougher than you realize. I respect that about you.”

  I tried to pretend I wasn’t blushing. I gave him a little push and started walking. “Ah, six miles is nothing.” I started at a walk, swinging my arms to get my heart pumping a little. My eyes bounced back and forth, from one side of the street to the other, one house to another, among houses and trees and parked cars. Everything looked normal. Ordinary. One vinyl-sided house after another. One manicured lawn after another. Nothing stood out as I jogged down the winding street, heading toward the wooded main road. Every now and then, I’d peer over my shoulder, catching a glimpse of JT’s car. He would drive a little, then park; drive, then park. I didn’t see Mom’s car following me. I wondered if she’d given up and gone home.

  Falling into a comfortable pace, I jogged out of the subdivision, turning onto the main street. It was cooler there, the trees shading the road. My skin, now slick with sweat, prickled as goose bumps erupted over my arms and legs. It felt good. I inhaled deeply through my nose, enjoying the scent of trees and freshly mown grass. I rounded the bend, approaching the school on my left. There were no cars in the lot, no kids or buses. By the time I turned back into the subdivision, nearly completing the full circle, I had started to feel a little tired. I slowed my pace to a walk as I turned the final corner.

  Mom’s car was still parked where it had been. I peered in the window as I walked past.

  No Mom.

  Where’d she go?

  Mom, not again. Not now.

  Knowing others is intelligence; knowing yourself is true wisdom. Mastering others is strength; mastering yourself is true power.

  —Lao Tzu

  22

  A million possibilities flew through my mind as I searched the area around my mother’s abandoned car—none of them good. Her car was exactly where she’d parked it, but she was nowhere to be seen. She could have wandered off somewhere and gotten lost. She could have tried to follow me on foot and collapse somewhere.

  She could have been attacked by the killer, who liked brunettes in their midthirties. Mom was in her forties; and her hair was black but at a distance she could pass for thirty-five–ish. Had I led her right into the path of a serial killer?

  My stomach did a flip-flop, and I bent at the waist, wrapping my arm around myself, squeezing my eyes shut and willing the nausea to ease up so I could keep looking. Now was not the time to get all queasy.

  “Are you okay?” JT was behind me.

  I turned to face him. “Mom’s not here. I don’t know where she’s gone.”

  JT glanced at the car, then at my face, which was probably as white as a nearby delivery van. “Maybe she had to go to the bathroom.”

  “Oh. God. I hope you’re right.” Able to breathe a little better, I dashed down to our borrowed house. There were still several police officers standing outside the garage. I described my mother to one of them, asking if he’d seen her. He hadn’t. I raced inside, making a beeline for the half bath on the main floor. The door was hanging open. “Mom?” I called out. “Are you here? Mom?”

  No answer.

  I headed into the kitchen, thinking maybe she got thirsty and came in for a glass of water.

  No Mom.

  “Mom!” I shouted, unable to keep the panic from my voice. “Are you here? Please answer.” I ran from room to room, growing more desperate with every second that passed. She wasn’t on the first floor. I stomped up the stairs, clinging to the railing, breathless, dizzy. “Mom!” I checked my bedroom, the spare, the master bath, the main bathroom.

  No Mom.

  “Sloan,” JT called from downstairs.

  Hoping he’d found my mother, I flew down the steps. I met him in the foyer. “Did you find her?” I asked between heavy gasps.

  “Not yet.”

  “We have to find her. What if the unsub has her?”

  “It’s a little too soon to be jumping to those kinds of conclusions, Sloan. She could have just gone for a walk. Or ... something.” He gave me a you-know-what-I-mean look.

  I knew exactly what he meant. “JT, we have to find her.”

  “We will. It shouldn’t be too difficult. She’s probably somewhere nearby... .” He gave my shoulder a rub. It was a well-meant gesture, but for some reason, it irritated me. “Tell me what you want me to do. You can’t file a missing persons report until after she’s been gone twenty-four hours.”

  “I know.” I stared at the door, wishing she’d come wandering through. “But there’s a killer out there somewhere, and even if she’s just meandering around the neighborhood, chasing pink monkeys or elephants or rhinoceroses, she could be in danger.”

  “We can search faster by car.” JT steered me toward the front door. “I’ll drive.”

  We cruised up and down the subdivision’s streets. I practically hung out the window, trying to peer between houses, behind fences, and around shrubs and trees. When we didn’t find her, JT turned out onto the main road, following the route I’d jogged. Just as I was about to give up, I caught sight of some movement at the rear of the school.

  “Stop!” I shouted.

  JT turned into the school’s parking lot and threw the car into park. We clambered out. “Where?” he asked.

  “This way.” I sprinted along the west side of the school, my feet pounding on the paved drive, which circled the building. By the time I reached the rear of the building, I was in dire need of oxygen. I stopped, my gaze sweeping back and forth across the playground. Blue-and red play structure. Steel swing sets. Trees. No Mom. No people. “I swear I saw someone.”

  JT, who wasn’t breathing hard at all, wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “She’s not here. Let’s go back to the car. I want you to sit down before you pass out. And I think you need some water. You’ve run close to seven miles by now.”

  My knees felt a little Jell-O–ish, but I wasn’t going to
let that stop me from looking for Mom. That was what I always did. I took care of her—no matter what. She didn’t have anyone else. “I’m okay.” I stepped out of his hold, heading toward the closest door, painted cherry red. Identical doors lined the face of the building at regular intervals, entries to each classroom, I guessed. “Maybe she went inside the building.”

  “I’m sure the doors are all locked.”

  “But suppose one wasn’t? I think it’s wise to check, just in case.” The first one was locked. I cussed silently and headed for the second one, vaguely aware of JT tailing me. That one was locked too, but that didn’t stop me from trying door number three.

  “I’ll go check the doors around the other side!” JT called.

  “Thanks!”

  Doors five, six, and seven were also locked. I circled around the north and then east sides of the school, finally turning toward the front, searching the area for a sign of people. Still, nothing. Not Mom. Not anyone. I followed the curved sidewalk, which wrapped around the front of the school, approaching the west side again.

  No JT.

  Where’d he go?

  I jog-walked down the west side of the building again; my gaze lurched from one red door to another as I passed them. The last one, I noticed, was wedged open slightly. Either it hadn’t been open earlier when we’d run this way, or I had been too distracted to notice it. I pulled it open and peered inside. Whiteboard. Little tables with chairs stacked on top. Lights off. No voices, no people, no JT.

  I gently eased the door shut behind me and moved deeper into the classroom, senses alert, muscles tense. My ears caught every tiny sound, the hum of a fly buzzing around the room, the whirr of the air conditioner, the drip of a leaky faucet.

  The echo of footsteps.

  Someone was coming.

  I flattened myself against the wall, hiding behind a file cabinet. The footsteps came closer. Closer. The person was right on the other side of the steel cabinet. I held my breath.

  “Sloan?” the person whispered.

  “JT?”

  “Yeah, it’s me. I checked the building. There’s a janitor polishing the cafeteria floor. Nobody else.”