by Tami Dane
“Okay.”
We headed back outside, squinting against the glaring sunlight. The sun was hanging high overhead. I guessed it was getting close to noon.
“Wow, where’d the morning go?” I muttered.
“Are you hungry?”
“No. I’m too worried to be hungry.”
JT gave me what I guessed was meant to be a reassuring look. “We’ll find her.” We started back to the car. Too desperate to give up, I kept looking, everywhere, at everything, hoping I’d see some clue. Not far from the front sidewalk, something caught my eye, a flash of metal in the grass. “Where are you going?” JT asked as I dashed toward the reflection.
“Checking something.” The grass hadn’t been mown in a week or two; it was a little on the thick and tall side. I combed my fingers through the blades, searching in the area where I thought I’d seen the glittery thing. “Found it.” I plucked the silver chain from the long grass. At the end dangled one of those silver medical-alert badges. My mother wore one. I’d purchased it for her years ago, after she almost died. An ER doctor had given her a medication that interacted with her prescription drugs after an accident, causing an almost fatal heart arrhythmia.
What was the likelihood of this medical alert being hers?
Letting it fall into my palm, I checked the engraving. It wasn’t Mom’s. But the name was familiar. Deborah Richardson. A series of letters with pluses and minuses follow. Her blood type was very rare. I handed it to JT.
He read it, then met my gaze. “Damn, you’re good!”
“It was a lucky find. What do you think it means?”
“It means we need to call the Baltimore PD so they can get a CSI team over here pronto and get this area cordoned off. I think we’re standing in the middle of a crime scene.” He patted his pockets. “Damn, I left my cell in the car.”
“Me too.”
We ran back to the car and dove for our phones. Mine was playing “The Entertainer,” indicating I’d just received a message. Hoping it was from my mother, I dialed voice mail to retrieve it. Meanwhile, JT called the Baltimore PD to tell them what we’d found.
The message, I discovered, wasn’t from Mom. It was from Gabe, and it sounded urgent. “Sloan, you need to get down here to the hospital now. It’s about your case.”
Our case. My case. Damn.
What to do? Keep looking for Mom? Or head to the hospital?
If there was ever a test for an agent’s commitment to her job, this was it. I didn’t want to go. I wasn’t ready to give up looking for my mother yet.
This was an impossible choice.
I tried calling Gabe back, hoping he’d give me the information over the phone. No answer. JT ended his call as I shoved my cell into my purse and muttered a few expletives.
“Detectives are on the way.” JT took a step closer. “What’s wrong?”
“Gabe left me a message. He’s at the hospital. Said I need to get down there. It’s about the case... .”
“But you’d rather stay here and keep searching for your mother.”
I shoved my fingers through my hair, practically yanking it out of what was probably the world’s messiest ponytail by now. “What would you do?” I could feel my eyes tearing up, a sob choking me. I inhaled slowly, then exhaled.
“If your mother’s disappearance has anything to do with the unsub, then you need to find her.”
“Exactly.”
“But maybe driving around isn’t the best way to do that. Maybe going to the hospital will give you the lead that’ll crack this case.”
“Good point.” Also, in my current state, I trusted JT to be sharper and more capable than me.
JT waved toward the road. “Go. Take my car. Once I’m done here, I’ll go back to searching on foot.”
“Okay. Thanks.” I thought about giving him a hug, just because he was being such a good friend. But with the thing going on between us, I figured that wasn’t the best idea.
He handed me the keys. “I’ll keep you posted.”
“Thanks.” I jumped into the car, made some adjustments to the seat and mirror, cranked the engine over, and bounced and sputtered away. During the herky-jerky drive, I tried to guess what Gabe had found out about our case. He’d followed the missing girl to the hospital. Had her disappearance been linked to the murders, after all?
Fifteen minutes later, I pulled JT’s car into a parking spot and cut off the engine. I snatched up my laptop bag, double-checking to make sure I had my cell phone, and headed inside.
Lucky me. The emergency room lobby was in chaos. I tried to get the attention of a couple of security officers, but they were both busy talking on radios. One snapped, “If you’re not a patient, you must go to the waiting room”; then he went back to his radio conversation.
This was one of those times where I wished I had a badge. I tapped on his shoulder. “I’m an intern with the FBI. I’m here about a case.”
“Do you have any ID?”
“Just my driver’s license. I’m an intern. Not an agent.”
Wearing a totally believable security guy’s stern face, he said, “Sorry, then, I can’t let you back.”
“Okay.” I checked my cell. No bars. I headed outside, waited for my phone to connect, and tried Gabe’s phone again. No answer. “Damn it.”
“Sloan!” Gabe called out.
Relieved, I whirled around. “What’s going on?”
“I’ve been waiting for you. Come on.” He rushed me back inside.
Following him, I explained, “I tried to get into the ER to look for you. Without a badge, I couldn’t get past the security guards.”
“Yeah, I know. The hospital had to step up the security. There was a problem with some drunk asshole brought in by the police.” Gabe paused at the registration desk and flashed a badge, pointing at me. “We’re with the FBI.”
The woman at the desk waved us back.
“Where’d you get that badge?”
“It’s the chief’s. She wanted to make sure we’d be able to get back in.”
“What if they’d looked at the name on the ID? Or the picture?”
“Good thing they didn’t.” Gabe pointed at a long corridor, lined with empty gurneys. “This way. She’s been isolated in an area where we can protect her.”
“Who?”
“Your witness.” He turned down a narrower, quiet corridor, lined with doors. The man had long legs and was using them to full advantage, which left me to jog to keep up.
“Who is she?”
“Her name is Eden Eckert.” He stopped at a door, which was guarded by a federal agent. “This is Sloan Skye, the other intern SSA Peyton told you about.”
The agent nodded, and in we went. I whispered, “Why the guard?” as we stepped through the door.
“I’ll tell you later.”
Our little friend looked even smaller lying in that big hospital bed, monitors blinking, tangled tubes dangling over the side of the bed. But she looked a lot better than she had in the garage. A woman, whom I hadn’t noticed right away, was sitting in a chair on the opposite side of the bed. She stood as Gabe and I moved closer.
Gabe motioned to me. “This is Sloan Skye. She was the one who found your daughter this morning. Sloan, this is Mrs. Eckert, Eden’s mother.”
“Thank you for finding my baby. I can’t ...” The woman sniffled. “I was so worried.”
“It wasn’t technically me who found her, but I’m glad she was found, and I’m relieved to hear she’ll be okay.” I glanced at the little girl, who was eagerly shoveling vanilla ice cream into her mouth. “I see she’s hungry. That’s always a good sign.”
Mrs. Eckert did a little half sob, half laugh. “Yes, it is.”
Biting back a sarcastic comment, I said, “If it’s okay, we need to ask Eden some questions.” We needed the mother’s cooperation. Now was not the time to talk about any suspicions of neglect.
Mrs. Eckert thumbed a tear from her eye. “Sure. Anything that’ll help
you catch the woman who did this. If you don’t, I won’t be able to let her play outside without being terrified she’ll vanish again.”
“The woman?” I echoed.
Gabe nodded. He looked at little Eden, who had just polished off the last drop of ice cream in the bowl and was licking her lips. “Okay, Eden. Now that you’ve had your treat, can we talk about what happened?”
“Sure.” Eden beamed at Gabe.
Gabe returned her smile. “Go ahead and tell Ms. Skye what you told me and the other agents today.”
“It was Mrs. Bishop,” the little girl said.
“Who is Mrs. Bishop?” I asked.
“Veronica’s mama. Remember? I told you Veronica is my best friend. But she was gone away at camp. And I missed her really, really bad. So I rode my bike to her house. I wanted to ask her mommy when she’d be back. Julia came back early, after her mommy died. I thought maybe Veronica would come back with her. Mrs. Bishop asked if I wanted some ice cream.” She slid a glance at her own mother and tipped her head down. “Mommy always told me not to go into other people’s houses without telling her first. I should’ve gone home and asked, but I didn’t. Because it was Mrs. Bishop. Mommy knows Mrs. Bishop.”
“What happened next?” I asked.
“I ate the ice cream. It tasted kinda funny. Then I got real sleepy, even though it wasn’t nap time. Mrs. Bishop told me I could sleep in Veronica’s room. So I went up and took a nap. When I woke up, the door was locked, and Mrs. Bishop wouldn’t let me out. The window was covered too. With boards. I couldn’t get out. I was really scared. She came back later, to give me something to eat and drink. She also brought in a baby toilet. I told her I wanted to go home, but she said I couldn’t. I asked her why not, and she said it was because she missed Veronica so much. That I was helping her not feel so sad.”
This was a terrible story, but I still didn’t see the connection to our case yet. I glanced at Gabe.
He nodded to Eden. “Tell her what happened later that night, Eden.”
The little girl’s expression changed. She suddenly looked small and vulnerable and horribly frightened. “Do I hafta?”
“I know it’s scary, but we need to hear. We need to stop Mrs. Bishop from hurting you, and other children. This is the only way we can stop her.”
The little girl didn’t speak for a full minute. She just stared down at her hands, now clasped in her lap, fingers tightly curled into fists. “It’s hard to say.”
“It’s okay.” Gabe took the child’s hand into his. “There are a lot of people here to protect you. She won’t get near you again.”
Eden eventually gave a little nod. “Later I fell asleep. Something woke me up. It felt like someone was dragging something hard and cold over my skin, like a knife. And it smelled awful, like our garage in the summertime, when we leave the garbage in there too long. I opened my eyes, and she was standing there, looking at me, but it wasn’t her. She was different. Her face. Her ... teeth. And then ...” Eden fingered her neck. “And then she bit me.” Tears streamed down the little girl’s face. “It hurt. So bad. She did it again. And again. And again.”
Gabe and I exchanged a glance.
An image flashed in my mind. A shocking, horrifying one. Fangs flashing in the dim light. The agony of the bite. Instantly I felt sick. Dizzy. My stomach surged up my throat. I wrapped my fingers around the bed’s side rail. With my other hand, I rubbed my neck, recalling all too clearly how horrific the pain had been.
It had happened to me. Not just recently. No, years ago. When I was this little girl’s age. How many times had I cowered in the dark, feeling those icy fingers of dread curl around my stomach, waiting for the beast to return?
Sounds grew distant. The world narrowed to a dark, oppressive tunnel.
“I need to step outside. For just a minute.” My legs felt like half-cooked noodles, my feet heavy, as if they were encased in concrete shoes. I tried to give Eden a reassuring smile. “I’ll be right back.” Then, without looking at Gabe, I turned and walked out the door. In the hallway, I leaned back against the cool wall, closed my eyes, and tried to wish away the awful feeling spreading through my body like a cancer.
“Are you okay?” Gabe asked a few moments later.
I inhaled. Exhaled. “Sorry about that. Did I scare her worse? I hope not.”
“She’ll be okay. I’m more worried about you. What’s wrong?”
“What she said brought back some unpleasant memories. That’s all.” I fought a shudder that was quaking up my spine.
“Oh, the attack. I didn’t think—”
“No, it’s not that. I understand now why my dad started researching vampires, risking his career, his reputation, everything. I finally get it.” I swallowed the bile surging up my throat. “I think a vampire was attacking me. My father threw everything away to try to stop it.”
Wisdom is knowing what to do next, skill is knowing how to do it, and virtue is doing it.
—David Starr Jordan
23
Fortunately, it took me only a few minutes to pull myself together. While Gabe went back into the room to talk to Eden, I channeled all the horror and confusion that lay deep inside me into a fierce determination to solve this case.
As much as I wanted to run out of there, call JT, and tell him to head over to the Bishop house to take Mrs. Bishop into custody, I wasn’t ready to do that yet. I hadn’t figured out how the two cases were linked.
What did the kidnapping have to do with the killer?
I took a deep breath and went back into the room. Eden looked a little wary as her gaze found mine. I smiled. “It’s okay.”
She smiled back.
“I’m sorry I left you like that. I’d like to explain why.”
Eden dug a stuffed kitten out from under the blankets and hugged it. “Okay.”
I sat on the edge of her bed. “When I was little, I had a very similar experience. And your description brought back all the terrible memories I’d pushed out of my mind. I got a little overwhelmed, but only for a minute.”
She looked at me with wide eyes, full of innocence, and petted her kitten. “Were you scared when it happened to you?”
“I was. Very.”
She blinked. Her eyes reddened. “Me too. I’m afraid she’ll come back and hurt me again.”
“That’s why we need to catch her. And we need you to help us do that, and make sure she’ll never hurt another little girl again. You need to tell us everything you remember.”
“Okay.”
“After she bit you, what happened?” I asked.
“I got very tired. I fell asleep.”
“And when you woke up?”
“I was hungry. Really, really hungry. She brought me cereal and a banana for breakfast. And a sandwich and some chips and a cookie for lunch. I ate everything, and she was nice again, just like normal. And I asked her if I could go home, over and over.”
“What did she say?”
“She said I couldn’t go home until Veronica came back from camp.”
I leaned forward. “Did she say why?”
“She said she missed Veronica a lot. And I made her feel better. That’s all.”
“Okay. Did she say anything else? Anything about hurting some women?”
“No. But I told Mr. Thomas that I got away from Mrs. Bishop when she was giving me a bath. I hid in the garage next door. I didn’t know where else to go. And I knew you were staying there. I thought you could help me. I heard Mrs. Bishop talking to Mrs. Quinley outside. And then Mrs. Quinley screamed. I peeked out and saw Mrs. Bishop biting her, just like she did me.”
Gabe and I exchanged a look.
Kimberly Quinley had been the last victim. She had died from leishmaniasis, considered by some to be the deadliest tropical disease on the planet. But what I didn’t understand was how the timing could fit. The average incubation period for leishmaniasis was ten days to several years. “How long did you stay with Mrs. Bishop? And how long were you
hiding in the garage?”
“I was with Mrs. Bishop for a long time. I don’t know how long. I only spent four nights in the garage. But you didn’t come back. I was afraid to go home because I knew Mrs. Bishop would find me there. I didn’t know where else to go.”
“So you heard Mrs. Quinley scream the first day after you escaped?”
Eden shook her head and clutched her toy tighter. “No, I heard her scream on the last day.”
“And how long were you hiding in the garage?” I asked again.
“Four whole nights. I got real hungry, but I was afraid to go home. I could hear Mrs. Bishop outside, working in her yard, talking to people, asking if anyone had seen me. She even talked to my mommy once. I was afraid she’d hurt her too.”
“Okay. I think I need to make a call.” I motioned for Gabe to join me outside. We headed out of the building together. “Have they run screens for tropical infectious diseases?”
“Everything’s come back negative.”
I gnawed on my lip and touched my neck. “I wonder why. If the vampire’s bite is toxic to adults, why isn’t it toxic to children too?”
Gabe crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged. “I don’t know. You’re the one with the father who researched this stuff. Maybe it’s in his work somewhere.”
“It probably is. I haven’t gotten through all of it yet. Things have been a little crazy.”
Gabe leaned back against a brick column. “What are you going to do?”
“Does the chief know about this?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. I’m going to call her and JT. I don’t know if he’s aware of what’s going on. We need to profile this unsub before the BPD tries to take her into custody. But before we do that, I need to get home and dig through my dad’s research, see if I can figure out exactly what we’re dealing with. I hope my mother’s disappearance has nothing to do with this. It sounds like Bishop is a spree attacker, preying upon any brunette woman who happens to cross her path at the wrong time. And somehow, Eden and Veronica play into Bishop’s hunting pattern. Now I’m wondering if Veronica is really at camp, or somewhere else. We need to find out.”
Gabe shoved his hand into his pants pocket and dug out his phone. “Okay. I’ll probably see you back at the academy later.”