Night Fall

by Nancy Mehl

  “I’m surprised she let you see it. No one but members of the Circle are supposed to read it.”

  “Willow was beginning to question her beliefs, but I think she showed me out of fear. Fear that someone would come to take it forcibly.”

  “So you promised her you wouldn’t throw it away?”

  A smile lit up Nettie’s face. “But I’m not throwing it away, am I? I’m giving it to you so you can save people’s lives.” Tears filled her eyes, and her voice choked.

  Alex heard a car door slam. “Hold on a minute, Nettie,” she said. She opened the door just as Logan reached the top of the porch steps.

  “Time’s up,” he said.

  “I’ve got it.” She handed the evidence bag to him, and he took it with a smile.

  “Good work,” he said. “I’ll note the time. We need to get going.”

  “I’ll be there in a minute.”

  “Did you tell your aunt the FBI will need to get her fingerprints?”

  “No. I’ll tell her caregiver. Willow has had a stroke. It will be difficult to get her to the local RA for fingerprinting. Tell Mike they’ll need to come here to do it.”

  “I will.”

  “I still need to get a signed receipt. It will only take me a few minutes. Wait in the car for me.”

  Logan nodded and headed down the steps. Alex shut the door and turned back to Nettie. “What about the others in the Circle?” she asked. “I’m surprised they haven’t been around, trying to find this copy if they suspect Willow is backing away from them. Or at least because she’s had a stroke.”

  “Oh, they’ve called, more than once, but I told them Willow couldn’t remember what she’d done with it.” She shook her finger at Alex. “I wanted to tell them I burned the nasty thing, but I couldn’t lie. What I said was completely true. About a year ago she hid it and then forgot where it was. I just happened to stumble across it. I haven’t told her I found it. She’s convinced it’s lost. She’s searched the house more than once, but I had it put away in a spot she didn’t think of looking.”

  “But she heard me ask you for it.”

  “She won’t remember, honey. Her memory has grown worse and worse.” Nettie reached over and patted Alex’s arm. “Don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine.”

  Alex wanted to do as Nettie asked, but she wasn’t certain how vengeful the members of the Circle could be—angels or no. She was worried they’d retaliate in some way if they found out Nettie had given her The Book.

  “Do you have a cell phone, Nettie? If so, I need it too. We may be able to find members of the Circle with it.”

  Nettie shook her head slowly and clicked her tongue. “Oh dear. I had an old flip phone. You know, the kind where you have to buy minutes for it?”

  Alex nodded. She had a bad feeling about where this was going.

  “I threw that away when I got my new iPhone, and none of those people have called since then. I also recently changed your aunt’s landline number, just to be safe.” She paused a moment, then her eyes widened. “I’m so sorry. You wanted to see who called me. Track them. Though, I don’t think it would help you. I think they use burner phones. You know, the kind you can’t trace?” She smiled. “I watch a lot of Criminal Minds. I know about burner phones.”

  Alex smiled back at her. “I’m sure you do. Can you give me the number for your flip phone and Willow’s new landline? We may be able to get some records that would help us. And if you hear from anyone from the Circle again, will you let me know?”

  “Of course, honey.” Nettie walked over to the same small desk and this time took a pen and pad of paper from the drawer. After writing something down, she tore off the top sheet and handed it to Alex. “Here are the numbers. I hope they help you.” She put the paper and pen on the coffee table, then sat down on the couch.

  “Call me immediately if you need help,” Alex said as she handed her a card from her pocket. “If you feel threatened in any way.” Then she took the receipt form out of another pocket. “I need you to sign this, please. It just says you turned The Book over to me.”

  Nettie nodded and retrieved the pen she’d just used. She quickly signed the form and gave it back to Alex.

  “Please don’t worry about us. I think those people finally gave up.” Her eyebrows knit together, and she stared at Alex with an odd expression. “I have to tell you something, honey,” she said. “Something God wants you to know.”

  “Look, I’m grateful you’ve freed my aunt from the Circle, but your God is just another version of the Master she worshiped.” Alex expected Nettie to be offended, but she just smiled.

  “No, honey. There’s only one true God. He wants me to tell you that He saw your tears, and He’s been watching over you all this time. Before this present journey is over, you will meet Him.”

  A chill washed through Alex. “Are you saying I’m going to die?”

  “I don’t think so. I hope not. But you be careful, honey. And watch for Him.”

  Nettie stood and gave Alex a hug.

  Alex thanked her for her help before hurrying out the door, closing it behind her. Her emotions were all jumbled up. She wasn’t angry with Nettie for believing in a God that didn’t exist; she was just upset that she’d pretended to have a message from Him. Yet the words the woman spoke echoed through her mind over and over. “He wants me to tell you that He saw your tears, and He’s been watching over you all this time.”

  Alex started down the steps but halted momentarily. Nettie hadn’t lived on this street when a young Alex had sat here, crying and asking a silent God for help. And Alex knew Willow had never noticed.

  How could Nettie know?

  8

  It was clear Logan wanted to talk about the case on their short flight to Kansas City, but Alex was overwhelmed by thoughts and feelings that seemed to fill every empty space inside her. Voices from the past flooded her mind, each one competing for her attention.

  They’d gone to the RA with Mike, where agents had carefully made a copy of The Book. Alex and Logan would deliver it to the command post in Kansas City, and the original would be flown to the lab at Quantico. Keith would take it there after dropping them off.

  Logan finally fell silent, as if he understood she needed some time to process the fallout from stepping inside that awful house again. Nettie had obviously worked miracles inside its walls, but enough of the past was left to remind Alex of a childhood filled with strange people and weird beliefs. Secret meetings and lowered voices that only exacerbated the fears that held her in a firm grip. She was warned not to leave her room while the meetings were going on, which wasn’t a problem. Alex had no interest in her aunt’s creepy friends or the teachings from The Book.

  Regardless, Willow would quote passages from its pages for hours on end whenever Alex was in hearing distance. Until she turned fourteen, that is. Willow let Alex know more than once how disappointed she was that she wasn’t interested in joining the Circle. Alex didn’t care. All she wanted was to get out of that house.

  Alex’s life had been filled with mind-numbing repetition. She would go to school, come home, feed the cats, and clean the house. Then she’d make supper. After that she’d go to her room and study for several hours before falling into bed until she had to get up, make breakfast, and race to the bus. Some nights she’d get off the bus early and go to the store. At least Willow gave her money for groceries. It wasn’t much, but Alex learned how to make the dollars stretch. Lots of rice and oatmeal. Bread, peanut butter, bologna, and cheese were the staples. Sometimes she had enough to buy hamburger or a chicken. Willow told everyone she didn’t eat meat, but she never turned down Alex’s roasted chicken or juicy cheeseburgers. It might not have been the healthiest diet, but it kept them alive.

  Alex also found a cheap brand of food the cats seemed to like. She cared about them even though she had to spend grocery money on them. They were sweet, and sometimes they came into her room at night and curled up on the bed with her. Their purring soo
thed her.

  Although Alex never told Willow about events at school, several times she’d shown up without warning. Her wild hair, long skirts, and ballet slippers created quite a stir. Willow had no idea she was a spectacle. She would walk into Alex’s classroom and ask her where something was, ranting and raving that someone had stolen it. Alex would get up from her desk and take Willow’s arm, guiding her out of the classroom with giggles and snickering following her out into the hallway. Alex would have to calm her down, tell her where the item she wanted was, whether it was her keys, her purse, or whatever. Although the visits were embarrassing, they made Alex’s teachers finally stop inviting her aunt to parent-teacher conferences. That made Alex’s life a little easier.

  Willow never physically abused her but neither did she try to protect her or encourage her. Her instability made Alex feel insecure, as if she always had to be on her guard. She worried that at any moment, the floor could collapse under her again, the way it had when her mother died.

  Alex remembered exactly when she’d decided she wanted to become a profiler with the FBI. It was Career Day at school. Before then, she’d just dreamt about joining the Bureau. But one of the students—she couldn’t remember his name now—brought an uncle who’d retired from the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit a year earlier. His stories captivated Alex. She was so entranced she could barely breathe. Could someone really do that—study hearts of darkness in a way that made them understandable? Could that kind of knowledge save lives and bring justice? Could understanding evil make her less afraid?

  It was all she wanted. To live in the light. So Alex promised herself she’d be an FBI behavioral analyst someday. She got books from the library about serial killers and famous profilers. And as she read about the lives of some of the FBI’s most successful profilers, she envisioned herself as one of them.

  Alex spent those years working hard in school so she could win a scholarship for college. When she walked out the door for the last time, it was the happiest she’d felt since before her mother died. Her only regret was leaving the cats behind.

  She worked her way through college to pay for all the other things she needed. Then she joined the police department in Kansas City and from there, the FBI. And now everything she’d dreamt of had finally come to pass.

  “That was hard on you, wasn’t it?” Logan said.

  Alex was startled at the sound of his voice. She’d been so lost in her thoughts that she’d forgotten he was there. “Yeah. I really had no intention of ever going back there.”

  “You don’t have any feelings toward your aunt?”

  Alex sighed. She really didn’t want to talk about this. Why was he asking these questions? “I took care of her for six years,” she said. “My debt was paid. I wish her well, but she’s not my responsibility any longer.”

  “You said she’s the only family you have?”

  Alex fought back a sudden surge of anger. What was he trying to say? That she should feel some kind of duty toward her aunt? “Yeah, I think so. I mean, my dad disappeared when I was four. I have no idea if he’s alive or dead.” She looked out the window, hoping it would put an end to the conversation. They were almost there. Alex could never get over how much the ground looked like a patchwork quilt from the air. They were beginning to descend, so she fastened her seat belt.

  “I’m sorry, Alex. I’m not trying to meddle. I’m really interested, that’s all.”

  “Well, thanks,” she said, trying not to sound as irritated as she felt, “but it might be best if we keep our personal lives . . . personal.”

  “Sure. If that’s what you want.”

  Logan turned his head and finished whatever he was doing on his laptop. Then he closed the cover before sliding it into his bag and fastening his seat belt. They stayed silent as they prepared to land.

  Alex felt some regret for her response to Logan, but she really wasn’t interested in sharing her life with him . . . or with anyone. All she wanted to do was find Adam Walker before something too horrible for words happened. Nothing else mattered.

  9

  We’re here,” Logan said, as if she wasn’t aware the plane had landed.

  Alex picked up her bag with the copy of The Book inside and followed Logan to the door. They said good-bye to Keith, then walked down the stairs, where they found a car waiting for them. The man who got out and opened the trunk for their bags introduced himself as Detective Ambrose with the Kansas City Police Department.

  It didn’t take long for them to reach the CP, a boarded-up warehouse converted for the various agencies so they could work together to find Adam Walker.

  Ambrose drove them around to the back, and when they got out, he unlocked a metal door and ushered them inside a busy hive of activity. Monty hurried up to them.

  “You made good time,” he said. “I take it you have a copy of this book we’ve been waiting for?”

  “Right here,” Alex said, holding up her bag.

  “Great. Hopefully it will help us come up with an assessment and some strategies to find this guy before he uses the virus.”

  Monty led them to the back of the large area. He opened the door to a separate room where Alex saw a long table set up with chairs around it. She put her bag on the table and removed the copied pages she’d carried with her from Wichita.

  “It’s been confirmed,” Monty said. “The lab in Ethiopia is missing an active vial of Ebola. They believe it was sent to Kansas City, but the lab here can’t find it.”

  “So everyone is convinced the research assistant who’s missing—Adam Walker—took it?” Logan asked.

  “Yes. Unless we uncover other information, we’re proceeding as if he has the virus.” Monty gestured toward the table. “We have a meeting in a few minutes. The assistant special agent in charge is Derek Harrison. He’s tough, but he listens.” Monty looked around him and then lowered his voice. “CDC and Homeland are here.”

  Having Homeland and the CDC as part of the task force made the seriousness of the situation clear. Alex could feel the tension in the CP. The FBI and local police were working furiously. Desks had been set up all over the room, and analysts, detectives, and agents were busy looking for something that might lead them to their subject.

  A large man with red hair approached them, then pointed at the package in Alex’s hands. “Is that the book everyone’s talking about?” he asked.

  “This is ASAC Derek Harrison,” Monty said. “Sir, SSA Alex Donovan and SSA Logan Hart.”

  “Good to meet you, sir,” Alex said, extending her hand. Harrison had a firm handshake, and his expression was serious and determined. Good. They needed someone who would do whatever it took to find the virus.

  “Yes, this is a copy of the book we believe our killer is following,” Alex said. “We hope it helps.” She handed it to Harrison.

  “I heard it’s just called The Book. Has the original been dusted for fingerprints?” he asked.

  “The Resident Agency in Wichita is handling that. Once they have my aunt’s prints and her caregiver’s, they’ll be sent to the lab. The Book is on its way there now.”

  “We need that information as soon as possible.”

  Alex cleared her throat. “Sir, I’m as sure as I can be that only my aunt and her caregiver’s prints will be on this book. My aunt revered it, and she would never let anyone else near it. Even me. She doesn’t know her caregiver found it and hid it from her.”

  Harrison raised an eyebrow. “I don’t understand. So you’ve never read it? But you recognized the graffiti on the train cars. How could you do that if you’d never read this book?”

  “My aunt quoted from it a lot. From the time I was twelve until I was fourteen. It was her attempt to add me to the Circle. Her efforts failed.”

  “What about members of the Circle? You’re certain their prints won’t be on it?”

  “Yes, sir. I am. My aunt could open it in a meeting and read from it, but that’s as close as anyone else could get.”

>   “Okay,” he said slowly, drawing out the word. “So if she knew we were going to read this thing—”

  “She’d be extremely distraught. Probably never speak to me again. But to be honest, she’s always had mental problems, and it seems she’s deteriorated quite a bit further after a stroke. That’s why she has a caregiver.”

  “You acquired it with a warrant?” Harrison asked.

  “Yes. The RA in Wichita got it for us.”

  “Good. Let’s sit down. We’re waiting to hear from KCPD. They’re going through Adam Walker’s apartment again.”

  His phone rang, and Harrison picked it up from the table where he’d placed it when he sat down. “Speak of the devil,” he said. He answered, then listened for several minutes. Finally, he said, “Okay, thanks. If you learn anything that will help us . . . Yeah, I know.”

  He disconnected the call and shook his head. “Nothing. Everything is gone except for what came with the apartment. Nothing left that might help us. All we have is that poem he left in his desk at the lab. Walker knew how to cover his tracks.” He turned toward Alex. “We’re counting on you and your team to help us figure out where he might be. How we can find him. We’ll give you anything you need. Just ask.”

  “We’ll get to work on it right away,” she said. Logan and Monty nodded.

  Just then the back door opened and two men carried in boxes of pizza. “Grab something to eat first,” Harrison said. “We’ll make more copies of this book and give one to you. I want others going through it too.”

  “Hopefully, we can give you something solid soon,” Alex said. “Did you find anything through ViCAP or NCIC?”

  “No, nothing. We’re gathering all the usual sort of records, of course. Birth certificate, driver’s license . . .” He took a deep breath. “You three will be on our Domestic Terrorism Task Force. You’ll concentrate on finding Walker—and that virus. You’ll also be working with the CDC and Homeland. Detectives with the KCPD are investigating the murders.”

  “I believe the murders and the virus are closely connected,” Alex said. “Please ask the Kansas City PD to keep us updated on their progress.”