by Nancy Mehl
“You were counting the days until you could leave,” Logan said.
Her throat was so tight she couldn’t respond. She just nodded.
“This is what I wanted to show you,” the tech said, pointing behind them.
When Alex and Logan both turned around, she gasped. On the wall above her bed, a circle had been drawn in blood—with her name smeared inside it.
12
Because they’d had no sleep, Alex and Logan decided to stay overnight in Wichita. Mike recommended a hotel next to the highway. It had outdoor corridors—not a great feature in November—but the rooms were suites, and it wasn’t far from Willow’s house.
They would have liked to question Nettie before checking in, but she was still unconscious, and the case belonged to the Wichita PD. If they could prove Willow’s murder and Nettie’s attack were carried out by the Circle or Adam Walker, then the FBI could step in since it was related to their domestic-terrorism case. But for now, no one could be sure the two crimes were connected. Not even with the image drawn on the wall.
Alex and Logan had briefly met with Police Chief Rogers, who accepted their help graciously. They provided questions designed to help his officers with their canvass of the area, talking to neighbors and anyone else around during the time the killer or killers were inside the house. The questions had been formulated based on FBI experience, but after seeing the crime scene, they’d quickly amended them with information that specifically related to this case. Alex was convinced the chief would pass their suggestions on to his detectives. The Wichita PD had a great working relationship with the FBI.
Logan had called both Jeff back at Quantico and Harrison in Kansas City to tell them what they’d found at Willow’s. Harrison promised to get back with them after they got a few hours of sleep. If Nettie regained consciousness, he wanted Alex and Logan to talk to her. See what she could tell them. He said he would talk to the WPD and make sure it was okay with them.
Alex tried to sleep. The hotel bed was comfortable, but she just couldn’t drift off. What did the drawing on that wall mean? If Willow was killed by the Circle, why the fury? Whoever killed her was filled with rage. Maybe they did know The Book had fallen into the government’s hands and met this unforgivable action with judgment. Was death the price for this sin? Carried out by a mediator who was enraged and full of violence? But why write Alex’s name in blood? Did the Circle blame her for Willow’s supposed transgression?
Although it made some sense, that possibility was still hard for her to grasp. From what Alex could hear when the Circle met at Willow’s house, their get-togethers were docile, not angry. She never heard raised voices. Of course, it’s hard to get much information when you’re stuck in your bedroom, not allowed to see the group assembled in the living room.
Without warning, a memory flashed in Alex’s mind. Something else she must have tried to forget. During one of their meetings, Alex had to go to the bathroom. She’d held it as long as she could, but finally she decided to break the rules and sneak out of her room. She’d opened her door so quietly that no one could have possibly heard her. Then, after making sure she couldn’t be seen, she’d slipped down the hall to the bathroom.
After she’d done her business, she’d stood, staring at the toilet. If she flushed it, they might hear it and know she’d disobeyed her aunt. Finally, frustration overcame her fear of getting caught, and she pulled the handle. She waited until the toilet was quiet again, then leaned against the door with her hand on the doorknob. She waited, listening for any sounds that might betray her, but she didn’t hear anything. Relieved, she decided they hadn’t heard the flush. She slowly opened the door—
Alex jumped at the memory and swung her legs over the side of the bed. How could she have forgotten? This was the second time an old memory had resurfaced since this whole thing started. Why was this happening? She felt . . . out of control. Her mind was deceiving her, and it made her feel weak and afraid. She’d seen one of the members of the Circle and had just now remembered it.
After pulling on a hoodie and slippers, Alex got up and went into the living room, which included a desk and a chair. She turned on a lamp. Sure enough, she found paper and a pen in a drawer, and after sitting down, she started sketching the man she’d seen. She had no idea who he was, but a drawing of a Circle member could help the investigators working the case.
When she was finished, she studied her work carefully. It matched her memory, but this had been years ago. The man could look different now. She thought about aging the image but decided she’d better let an FBI expert handle that. As she tried to envision what the man looked like now, someone knocked at her door. She got up and looked through the peephole. Logan. Alex glanced at the clock on the wall. 5:00 a.m. What was he doing here?
She tugged her hoodie around her body, then unlocked the door and swung it open.
“Sorry,” Logan said, huddled in his jacket. “I saw a light on, so I figured you were up.” He ran his hand through his hair. He was dressed, but obviously he hadn’t combed his hair or shaved. Somehow he looked even better unkempt. Surprised by the unbidden thought, Alex felt her cheeks grow hot. She hoped he couldn’t see it in the glow of the dim lighting outside.
“Come on in,” she said. “I’m glad you came. I remembered something. Maybe it will help.”
A blast of cold wind followed behind Logan as she tried to shut the door. Before it latched, she noticed a few snowflakes.
“We should probably check the weather,” Logan said as he turned to look at her. “We don’t want to get stuck here.”
Alex grunted. “Yeah, I’ve had enough of this town. Never planned on coming back here even once. If you’d told me a week ago I’d be here two times in one day, I would have said you were crazy.”
Logan headed to the couch, slipping off his jacket and tossing it over the back of a nearby chair. He stopped before he sat down. “Hey, they have one of those compressed paper logs for the fireplace here. Do you mind if I light it? I’m frozen all the way through.”
Alex frowned at him. “Your room’s only two doors down from mine. Why are you so cold?”
Logan didn’t answer her as he opened the package and removed the log. He put it in the grate and used the matches provided by the hotel to ignite it. Then he opened the flue before turning back to her. “Honestly? I stood out there for a while. I wasn’t sure if I should knock. I don’t want to compromise us in any way.”
“I appreciate your concern, but someone is out there with a virus that could kill thousands of people. I’m more interested in stopping him than worrying about our reputations.”
Logan reached into his pocket and took out a couple of packets. “Stopped by the office and got some extra coffee. Just in case.”
Alex took them and smiled. “I take it you’d like a cup?”
“That would be wonderful. It would help me warm up too.”
“You drink it black, right?”
He nodded. “I’m not opposed to a latte once in a while, but most of the time I like it strong and black, the way coffee was intended to be enjoyed.”
“I enjoy a caramel latte sometimes, but it seems like we’re always on the go. I’ve learned to drink it black. Just made sense.” She shook her head. “The things you give up for the Bureau.”
Logan laughed and sat down on the couch. He ran his hand over the cushion. “This couch seems a little . . . damp.” He turned around to look at her. “And what is that smell?”
“Sorry,” she said. “It’s disinfectant. I always clean hotel rooms. Germs.”
“You sprayed the couch?”
“Sure. But let’s move on from my germ phobia and talk about the case, okay?”
He was silent for a moment but then said, “All right. I’m extremely concerned about what we saw on the wall at your aunt’s house. It seems like a clear warning. I think you need to be careful.”
“Before we analyze that, let me get the coffee ready. My brain needs caffeine. Especi
ally for complicated conversations. We’re supposed to be at the airport around eight thirty. We’re not gonna sleep at all, are we?”
Logan sighed. “I think that’s a safe bet.”
Alex found two cups in the small kitchen and quickly brewed the first cup of coffee. She carried it into the living room and handed it to Logan while the second cup was brewing. When that was done, she joined him again. The idea of sitting next to him on the couch felt odd, though, so she moved his coat to the coat rack by the door and sat down in the chair.
“So what do you think about what we saw in my old bedroom?” Alex asked him. She hated referring to it as hers. She’d been so unhappy in that room, and she didn’t want to claim it in any way.
“I think the Circle is angry with you. But I don’t know if they’re telling you your aunt and Nettie were attacked because of that anger or if another revelation is coming.”
Alex nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been wondering the same thing. Truthfully, I think whoever did that wants me to feel the attacks are my fault. My punishment for trying to interfere. But if they plan to get to me, they’ll have a tough time. I’m armed, I’m with you, and we’ll be leaving in a few hours. I don’t think their reach is long enough to get to me in Kansas City.”
“I don’t know, Alex. Didn’t you say the Circle is spread out all over the world—probably including Kansas City?”
“Yeah, that’s what Willow said. But really, how large could this cult be? I mean, only a handful of people met at Willow’s house when I was a kid. It seems more likely this is nothing more than a small fringe group. Not many people involved. And no indication that they’re dangerous.” She caught herself. “Until tonight, I guess. If they had anything to do with Willow and Nettie’s attacks.”
“You aren’t certain?”
She considered his question carefully. “Something seems off, Logan. Remember, they see themselves as descendants of angels. I never sensed any indication of violence or hate in Willow or in the people who came to our house. I realize I could only hear them through my walls, but their meetings were subdued. Courteous. If the Circle felt they were being threatened by demons and they had to protect themselves or The Book, I would expect them to find another way to deal with it. Not what we saw tonight.”
Alex sighed. “I can’t believe I’m even having this conversation. Angels and demons. Imaginary beings that belong to an imaginary being that lives in the sky.” She shook her head. “How can rational human beings be so delusional? I just can’t understand—” She stopped short. “I . . . I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to . . .”
Logan smiled and took a sip of his coffee. “Let me ask you a question. If you were attacked by a rabid dog, would you assume all dogs are dangerous?”
“Of course not.”
“Then explain something to me. Your aunt believed in this kind of stuff, but does that mean God can’t possibly exist? Why do you think they’re connected?”
“Look, let’s not get into a God conversation, okay? But I see your point. I guess I’m the kind of person who believes in what I can see and understand. Quantifiable data. An invisible being that blesses me if I’m good and punishes me if I mess up? I’m afraid He’d be pretty busy handing out reprimands in my case.”
“Wow. Where did you get this idea about Him?”
“Before my mother died, I went to church with a Christian school friend once. The pastor was one of those fire and brimstone types. It scared me. I never went back.”
Logan sighed. “Another rabid dog, huh? Sometime, if you want, let me tell you about the God I know, okay? No pressure. I’m not trying to convert you, but there is another side to this. One it seems you’ve never heard.”
Nettie’s words drifted into Alex’s mind. “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 warm feeling she couldn’t explain ran though her. Could God be real? And could such a being care about her? Given those unanswered prayers on Willow’s front porch, she wanted to dismiss the idea as insane. But for some reason she couldn’t. It was as if a quiet voice inside her was saying it might be time for something different.
“Maybe. Sometime,” she said. “But for now let’s get back to what happened here.”
“I don’t suppose you remember anything about the people who met at Willow’s? Something that might make it easier to find them?”
“That’s what I want to tell you. I have something that might send us in the right direction.” She stood and retrieved the sketch. “I was trying to remember anything that might help. I guess I’d blocked out some stuff, but I recalled one of the members of the Circle who came to our house. He’s the only one I ever saw.” She handed him the paper.
Logan’s eyebrows arched. “This is pretty detailed for someone you saw so long ago. Very well drawn. You have talent.”
“Just enough to get by. Not enough to do anything with it.”
“I think you’re selling yourself short. How long ago was this?”
“Forget the number of years,” Alex said with a smile. “I’ll start feeling old. Actually, I’ve got a pretty good memory, so I can’t explain why I didn’t remember this earlier. Even though, like I’ve said, I did my best to forget all that stuff about The Book. It’s . . . weird.” She had no plans to tell him about the other memory that had surfaced.
“Maybe you pushed it so far away it took this situation for it to resurface.”
Alex nodded. “You’re probably right. We need to run this through facial recognition software. If we get a name, we can run it through ViCAP and NCIC too. I realize this doesn’t sound like a pattern yet, but what if it is? What if other people have betrayed the Circle and paid a price, and this guy is involved in that somehow?”
“Right. If we can come up with anything else to assist investigators here, it might help us find Walker faster.”
Alex was surprised when her phone rang. Who could that be? “Busy morning.” She grabbed her phone from the kitchen counter. When she answered she heard Mike’s voice on the other end.
“Sorry if I woke you, but I’m here at the hospital. Nettie’s conscious and asking for you. Won’t talk to anyone else. She says it’s important.”
13
After assuring Mike they were on their way, Alex told Logan that Nettie was asking for her. “We’ve got to go down there.”
“Sure. I have everything I need with me, but you might want to change first and—”
“You’re right. Give me a minute.”
Alex hurried into the bedroom and shut the door. She pulled off her hoodie, sweatpants, and T-shirt, then kicked off her slippers and grabbed her jeans, a sweater, and boots. After dressing, she went into the bathroom, where she quickly brushed her hair and tied it back into a ponytail before applying a little mascara.
Why did Nettie want to talk to her? Did she know the person who attacked her and killed Willow? When she walked back into the living room, Logan looked surprised. “That was fast. I don’t think I could have gotten ready that quickly.”
“That’s because you’re so vain,” Alex said.
“Yeah, someone once wrote a song about me,” he said with a grin.
Alex folded her sketch into the pocket of her jeans before grabbing her jacket, making sure she had everything she needed in those pockets as well. Then they hurried downstairs to the car the FBI had rented for them. Alex was grateful the SUV had four-wheel drive. Safer on snowy streets. It was coming down pretty good now. The streetlights highlighted the large flakes, making them look like brilliant bursts of luminescent prisms. As Logan drove, Alex had to tear her eyes away from the beauty around her and concentrate on what lay ahead. The dichotomy of nature and the evil in the hearts of humans made her ache inside. It was a reality that people in law enforcement had to balance every day. Sometimes they were successful. Sometimes they weren’t.
It didn’t take them long to reach the h
ospital. They parked in the large covered parking garage and strode through a walkway to the main entrance. As they entered, they found Mike waiting for them.
“Hi,” he said. “You’ve beat the KCPD. I had to call them too, of course. She’s in ICU on the fifth floor. Come with me.”
The three of them got into an elevator and headed upstairs.
“How is Nettie doing?” Alex asked. “Will she be okay?”
“Her sister-in-law, Barbara, drove in from Independence as soon as she heard. She told me the doctor said Nettie’s chances of recovery are good. But it’s hard to be sure with the kind of head injury she has. There was some internal bleeding too, and they had to remove her spleen. Hopefully that will be it.”
“Are you keeping a guard on her?” Logan asked.
“She’s safe. No one can get into ICU without the nursing staff questioning them. If and when Nettie’s moved to a regular room, someone will be posted outside her door. Meanwhile, I’m gonna hang around.”
It felt as if the elevator was barely moving, driving Alex crazy. When an orderly got on at the fourth floor, she wanted to yell at him. Silly. She felt uncomfortable. Worried about something she couldn’t put her finger on.
When the doors finally opened on the fifth floor, they got out. Mike led them to the ICU nurses’ station.
“These are the folks I told you about,” Mike said to an older nurse who didn’t seem happy to see them.
“You can take only one person in with you,” she said, her tone leaving no doubt she meant it.
Alex glanced down at the woman’s badge. “Ruth, we’re also with the FBI.” Alex took her creds from her jacket pocket and showed the crotchety nurse. “I’d like my partner with me when I question Mrs. Travers.”