by Karen Rose
Both men looked surprised, but it was Kimble who spoke. ‘You’re a psychologist who treats sex offenders,’ he said, his contempt clear. ‘Why are you working in a bank?’
She stifled a weary sigh. ‘I’d appreciate it if you could confine your questions to this case. And then let me go on my way.’ She lifted her bandaged hands. ‘I still need to get to the ER.’
Novak’s odd eyes flickered with what seemed like genuine distress. Or maybe she just wanted it to be genuine. He played the good cop so very well. ‘We’ll make this as brief as possible,’ he said. ‘While at work you called your grandmother’s attorney, the power company, the locksmith and various other service people. Did you have contact with anyone else?’
‘Co-workers, yes. But about the house, no.’
‘Does anyone else have access to the house?’ Kimble pressed.
‘Not that I know of. Neither of my uncles wanted it. Not to live in, anyway.’ She blew out a breath. ‘Uncle Jordan needs to know what’s happening here. Whatever “this” is.’
‘Wait.’ Kimble held up his hand. ‘You have uncles?’
‘Yes, two of them. Twins, actually. Jordan and Jeremy.’
‘Do they live here? In Mount Carmel?’ Novak asked.
‘Oh no.’ The very thought was downright ludicrous. ‘Jordan lives in a townhouse in Mount Adams. I don’t think he’s been out here since he moved my grandmother in with him, except for the day she was buried. Jeremy lives on an estate in Indian Hill.’ Less than fifteen miles from her grandmother, yet he’d never once come to make things right.
Kimble’s brows rose. ‘They’re your mother’s brothers and they didn’t inherit the house?’
‘No, my grandmother left the house in Mount Adams to Uncle Jordan. She left the house and the property out here to me.’
‘Nothing to Uncle Jeremy?’ Kimble asked.
‘No,’ she said, suppressing a grimace. ‘Jeremy and my grandmother were never on the best of terms. Not in my memory anyway. They’ve been estranged since my grandfather died.’
‘Why?’ Novak asked curiously.
Faith hesitated. ‘My grandmother didn’t approve of Jeremy’s sexual preferences.’
Novak tilted his head. ‘That can mean a whole lot of things.’
‘In this case it means he’s gay.’ Not a lie, but not the whole truth. Her uncle was bisexual, preferring his partners to be youthful. And pretty.
So pretty was what he’d said to her, looking at her, touching her in ways that had made her uncomfortable even then. A thought inserted itself into her mind, one that made her sick to even consider. Jeremy had had access to the house at one time. He could have easily changed the locks. Could he have done this – kidnapped and tortured Arianna and her friend?
Instantly she rejected the idea. It simply didn’t make any sense. She realized that she’d dropped her eyes to her feet. When she looked up, she saw that both men had picked up on her distress. Kimble was coldly assessing, but Novak’s eyes flashed fury.
‘What?’ Novak demanded.
Faith shook her head. ‘Nothing. I’m sure it was nothing.’ But she heard the doubt in her own voice. Novak heard it, too.
‘What did he do to you?’ Novak’s tone was so close to a growl that Faith took a step back.
‘Nothing,’ she insisted. ‘That’s the truth. He’d say I was pretty. Would touch my hair. He was . . . a little creepy,’ she allowed, ‘and my father never trusted him. Dad made my mother promise to never leave me alone with him. My mother thought he was being silly, but she did promise him.’
‘So he never touched you because he never had the opportunity,’ Kimble said.
‘Possibly. But you have to remember that this was the early nineties and I grew up in a very strict Catholic family,’ she said, feeling the need to defend her uncle. With the hindsight of adulthood, she’d never been certain that her father had been right about Jeremy. ‘Being gay was often considered interchangeable with being a pedophile. I can tell you that he’s never been accused of anything.’ Not outside of her own family, anyway.
‘And you know this how?’ Kimble asked sarcastically.
Her chin lifted. ‘Because I checked.’
Novak’s white brows shot up in surprise. ‘Why? When?’
‘Several times. Most recently about a year ago. As for why, the memory worried at me. I couldn’t allow someone to be hurt because I didn’t want to air the family laundry. I gave a discreet heads-up to a social worker I knew from school. Her police contact kept an eye out, but there was never even a wisp of smoke. And you can’t arrest someone on suspicion alone.’
‘No, you can’t,’ Novak murmured. ‘Do you have contact information for your uncles?’
‘I have Jordan’s home and cell numbers, but nothing for Jeremy. You might find him at work. He’s a professor at the med school. He teaches surgery, last I heard.’ Faith shifted her feet, which had started to throb. ‘If you’re finished with your questions, I’d like to sit down.’
‘We’re finished for now,’ Novak said. ‘I’ll find someone to take you to the ER.’
For now. He hadn’t said it threateningly, just factually, but it sounded threatening just the same. She turned away from the cemetery fence to head back to the house, but it was pitch black and she missed a dip in the ground. Her stiff knees buckled and with a cry she went down.
But not all the way down. Strong hands caught her around the waist, Novak hauling her back up as if she weighed no more than a child. For a moment they stood there, the fingers of both his hands spread wide against her ribcage.
God, he smells good. Like cedar and clean leather.
‘Are you all right?’ Novak asked quietly, his mouth so close to her ear that she shivered.
‘Yes.’ She swallowed. ‘I just tripped.’
‘We shouldn’t have had you standing out there so long.’ He released her, pulling his hands away a little more slowly than he should have, so that it was almost a caress.
Faith shivered again, then stepped forward, putting some distance between them.
‘Let me help you, Miss Corcoran,’ Novak said, startling her when he took her elbow in a firm but gentle grip. ‘The ground is rough and I know you’re hurting.’
She really was, so this time she let him assist her, absorbing the pleasant warmth of his hand on her elbow through the fabric of the jacket she wore. ‘Thank you.’
Through all of this Kimble had said not a word, but he fell into step with them on her other side. Faith almost laughed. Does he think I’m gonna run for it?
The three of them walked slowly back to the front of the house, which was now far busier than it had been before. Several more police cars had arrived, along with the CSU van. New spotlights had been set up in the front and around the far side, bathing the property in bright, white light. Whatever they’d found, it was big. And very, very bad.
‘What did you find in the house, Agent Novak?’ Faith asked quietly.
But before Novak could answer, Kimble took her other elbow in a grip that made her wince. ‘What do you think we found, Dr Frye?’ he asked smoothly. Mockingly.
Something inside her snapped. Sonofabitch still thinks I’m involved.
‘Detective,’ Novak said sharply as Faith yanked her arms free, first from Novak’s gentle grip, then from Kimble’s punishing one.
She stepped back a pace so that she could see Kimble’s face. His lips quirked in a smirk that she knew was intended to make her angrier, to make her say things she’d regret. He’d be disappointed. She’d had too much experience with his kind of bad cop.
‘What I think, Detective Kimble,’ she said calmly but coldly, ‘is that you’ll find yourself in need of your PBO rep if you touch me like that again.’
Anger flashed in his dark eyes. ‘Are you threatening me, Dr Frye?’
‘No more than you just did to me. The difference is, I didn’t leave bruises.’ She thought she saw a flicker of uncertainty in his expression, quickly masked. ‘
And if you think I won’t file charges against you because I’m trying to stay under a stalker’s radar, you’re wrong.’
‘I think it’s a fair question, Dr Frye,’ Kimble said, not backing down a whit. ‘It is, after all, your house, and your family member who you so skillfully threw under the bus.’
‘Adam,’ Novak hissed. ‘That is enough.’
Faith ground her teeth, tired of them both. ‘Detective, you’re laying the bad cop on a little too thick. Kudos to you, Agent Novak. You’ve played the good cop to perfection. I’ve told you both what I know. I don’t expect you to believe me.’ She shook her head, willing back the angry tears that were trying to climb up her throat. ‘I didn’t want to find that girl. I didn’t want any of this. All I wanted was to be left alone.’
‘Dr Corcoran,’ Novak began in the soothing tone she no longer found comforting.
She sliced her bandaged hand through the air to cut him off. ‘Save it, Novak. The voice won’t work with me. I suggest you put your energy into figuring out where the bad guys went and how they snuck several vehicles, two grown men and a young woman past a legion of cops.’
Novak frowned. ‘What do you mean, several vehicles?’
‘You found the Earl Power and Light truck, but what about the vehicle the locksmith was driving? Have you found that? No? I didn’t think so,’ she said as the two men stared at her. ‘Unless the locksmith stood me up, he would have arrived minutes before I found the girl. He didn’t leave, nor did anyone else. Whoever took Arianna also had transportation. Therefore, unless they were all beamed up by Scotty, the abductor hid one vehicle, then took two men and a woman away from here by a different road, which to my knowledge doesn’t exist.’
‘You’re assuming we believe you when you say that they didn’t pass your way,’ Kimble said. ‘Even if that’s true, they might have left here before you arrived.’
Ignoring him, Faith met Novak’s gaze. ‘You said the girl’s blood was still wet in the Earl Power truck. Do you truly believe her abductor would have passed by that wrecked truck and not stopped to find her? That he’d let her live? You found her trail of blood easily enough. Don’t you think her abductor could have as well?’
Novak opened his mouth, but his reply was cut off by someone calling his name. A woman had broken away from the pack of CSU techs and was headed their way. She was about the same height as Faith but sturdier. Curvier. That she was a cop would have been obvious even without the telltale bulge under her arm, just from the way she carried herself.
‘I thought you were at the hospital,’ Novak said when she stopped in front of them.
The woman’s jet-black hair shone blue under the lights and her black eyes were sharp enough to cut straight through to the bone. ‘I was, but they sedated her. She won’t wake up for hours. I left a uniform standing guard outside her room.’ She cocked her head toward Faith. ‘This your Good Sam?’
‘Yes,’ Kimble answered. ‘This is Dr Faith Frye. She found the girl. She owns the house.’
Faith clenched her teeth. ‘It’s Dr Corcoran.’
‘It’s good to meet you, Doctor. I’m Detective Bishop. You might have saved Arianna’s life tonight. I’m sure she’ll thank you when she wakes up.’
Faith wasn’t sure if the woman was mocking her, baiting her, or sincerely thanking her, but something was off. ‘I hope she does.’
‘Gentlemen,’ Bishop said, ‘may I talk to you for a moment? Alone?’
Faith waved Novak away. ‘You don’t need to escort me. I’ll escort myself.’
‘I’ll get you that ride to the ER in a moment,’ Novak promised as she turned to walk away.
The three cops waited until Faith was in the SUV before Bishop held up her cell phone and the three of them leaned in, listening. Bishop hit a button on her phone and they listened again.
Perplexed and grim, the three cops walked to the SUV and formed a tight semicircle around Faith’s open door. Caging her in. It was a cop thing and Faith hated it.
Novak was the first to speak. ‘Dr Corcoran, when you called 911, you said that Arianna Escobar was unconscious.’
Faith rose to her feet, forcing the Three Musketeers to step back. She did it so that she could breathe, but pretended that her goal was to defend her space. ‘That’s right. At least I thought she was. I’m not that kind of a doctor, obviously. But she didn’t respond to anything I said. Why?’
‘What did you say to her?’ Kimble asked harshly. ‘Exactly?’
‘I don’t remember exactly. I was hurt too. Something like “Are you okay?” Why?’
‘Faith, had you ever met her before?’ Novak asked. ‘Was there any way the two of you had crossed paths in the past?’
New panic settled over her. ‘No,’ she said, resisting the urge to press her hand against her chest. Her heart was beating so hard it hurt. ‘Before tonight I’d never seen her before. Why?’
‘Because she knows you,’ Novak said, and her gaze snapped back up to meet his.
For a moment she thought she’d misheard, but the three cops stood there waiting for an answer. She cleared her throat, but her voice was weak and faint. ‘Excuse me?’
Novak nodded. ‘She regained consciousness briefly as she was being prepped for surgery. She told Detective Bishop to find Faith.’
‘I thought she meant faith in God,’ Bishop said. ‘I asked her if I could call her a priest or a minister. She grabbed my hand and said, “No. Faith Frye.” Now I realize that she meant you.’
‘But how . . .?’ Faith sagged into the seat, light-headed. ‘I told the 911 operator who I was. Arianna had to have heard me then.’
Novak shook his head. ‘No you didn’t. We just listened to the 911 call. You gave your name as Faith Corcoran, not Frye.’
Faith glanced up at him. Novak looked even more troubled. ‘How could she know me?’
‘Yeah,’ Kimble said, his lip curling. ‘How could she know you?’
‘I don’t know. The only answer that makes sense is that she heard my name during her captivity.’ A violent shiver jerked her body. ‘Which means that whoever took her knows who I am.’
‘That makes perfect sense, Dr Corcoran,’ Kimble said, and she could feel the heat from his body as he leaned in closer. ‘I guess the million-dollar question is, how do you know him?’
Chapter Seven
Mt Carmel, Ohio, Monday 3 November, 9.15 P.M.
‘That’s enough,’ Deacon ordered. Faith was perched on the edge of his passenger seat, hunched over, shaking like a leaf. ‘Back off and let her breathe.’
Bishop’s eyes had narrowed at Adam in concern. Scarlett Bishop was a sharp cop. She and Deacon had achieved a comfortable rhythm in the short month they’d worked together, able to wordlessly communicate as if they’d been partners for years. Adam was the wild card tonight.
Adam straightened more slowly, a direct challenge in his eyes. ‘She knows who’s behind this. This’ – he gestured to Faith’s trembling form with contempt – ‘is all an act.’
Deacon didn’t think so. He didn’t want to think so, anyway. But he didn’t think there was anything he could say that would convince Adam to reconsider, and more to the point, he owed it to Arianna and Corinne to be sure.
‘It may very well be. But until we know that for sure, Dr Corcoran will remain a witness. And I think she’s right about at least one thing. Arianna’s abductor wouldn’t have let her live if he’d escaped via the road. Which means there must be another way out of here. There’s a trail or something. We need to find it. And we need to find out if that locksmith did make it out here, because he sure as hell is not here now. Nor is his vehicle. So we have too much to do, Detective Kimble, to waste time berating a witness.’
‘Whose name the victim knew,’ Adam said through clenched teeth.
Deacon had seen the shock flatten Faith’s face when she heard the news. He believed it was genuine. ‘Yes. Which makes her too valuable a resource to frighten to death.’
Faith’s dark red he
ad lifted until she met his eyes, and it was like a punch to the gut. She was pale, drawn, and every bit as furious as Adam, but coldly so. ‘Very nicely done, Agent Novak,’ she said quietly. ‘I couldn’t have handled me better myself.’
Deacon kept his sigh inside. She might have actually trusted him before Adam ruined it. She sure as hell didn’t trust him now. ‘If you’ll excuse us for a moment, Dr Corcoran. We’ll be right back.’ He walked away, hands shoved in his pockets – whether to keep himself from touching her or from beating the shit out of his cousin, he wasn’t certain.
He led Adam and Bishop through the gate and to the front porch. Adam appeared to have managed to calm himself somewhat. Bishop was watching Adam cautiously.
‘I heard you got booted out of Personal Crimes because you lost it,’ she said, ‘which I didn’t want to believe, but that little display convinced me.’
Adam looked away, a dark flush staining his cheeks. ‘I’m sorry. I may have overreacted.’
‘Y’think?’ Deacon kept his voice down, but didn’t try to contain his frustration. ‘You’re goddamn right you overreacted. Now we’ll be lucky if she tells us anything.’
‘It’s an act, Deacon. I know it.’
‘If it is, she’s damn good,’ Deacon snapped. ‘Too good to tell you anything she doesn’t want you to know. I don’t think she was bluffing when she threatened to file charges. You hurt her, Adam. This isn’t like you. What the hell is wrong with you?’
Adam’s jaw tightened. ‘Do you agree that she knows something she’s not telling?’
Deacon looked across the front yard to where Faith sat watching them. If looks could kill, the three of them would be pushing up daisies. ‘I think she knows lots of stuff she’s not telling. But I don’t believe she is behind this.’
Adam huffed his derision. ‘I knew you’d say that. She’s leading you on, man. Pretty face, a twitch of the ass, they’re all the same. I hate to see you falling for her act like a fish on a damn hook. Although I gotta admit, she’s prettier than most.’ He met Deacon’s eyes. ‘Way prettier than Brandi ever was, but I would’ve thought that experience would have cured you for life.’