Allison Brennan - Silenced

Brian figured out where the girls were hiding based on the unmarked federal car on the street out front.

He was tired and punchy, but finding the little church had been divine providence. He’d have laughed at the thought if he weren’t so weary and depressed.

Brian hadn’t thought twice about killing the others. Except the social worker. She had stared at him, eyes wide like a deer, and said, “Please, don’t.”

He lost it with her. She made him think about what he’d been doing, made him feel bad about it when it was just a damn job. He shouldn’t feel bad about cleaning up this mess.

He’d gotten over it, because once she was dead it didn’t matter anymore. The choice had been made. But last night at Betty’s …

He couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Betty had been nicer to him than his own mother, admired his intelligence, and done her job well. He’d wanted to give her enough money to leave the country. He’d have joined her. And if Betty hadn’t been so demanding, he could have gotten his mother to agree.

But she asked for a million dollars. His mother said a hundred thou. And Betty laughed at her. Big mistake.

Once again, Brian was sent to fix the problem. No second chances.

He didn’t want to scare her, he didn’t want her to know that he was going to kill her. So he went over to see her and lied that he had a deposit on the million Betty wanted. That he would take her to a cabin in West Virginia that he owned, until everything settled down.

While Betty was packing, he came up from behind her, pushed her down. Heard a bone break and she cried out. As he grabbed a pillow from her bed, she began to crawl away.

“Brian, please don’t do this.”

Please, don’t

Please don’t do this

He held the pillow on the back of her head and fired two bullets into her brain before he could change his mind. He destroyed all the records he found and left.

That’s how Betty ended up dead and Brian ended up with a guilty conscience. He couldn’t stop picturing Betty on the ground, scared, crawling away from him. Why couldn’t she have been like the others?

He told Ned, “I’m parking around the corner. You go sit at the bus stop across the street, got it? Let me know immediately if anyone goes inside.”

“I still think we should burn it down,” Ned said.

“Because that worked so well for us last time?” Brian wanted to throttle him. “Do what I tell you.”

He must have looked more serious than usual because Ned said nothing.

He let Ned get settled at the bench before he left the car and walked around the block. There was no alleyway, which would have made it easier, but there was a four-story apartment building that backed up to the school.

The apartment building’s security was minimal, and he entered easily. He headed up the stairs to the roof. The door had a busted lock-people probably came up here to smoke or get fresh air. God knew he couldn’t live like this. The longer he was in DC, the more he wanted to return to the islands. Frankly, any island.

He didn’t care about the other girls, not anymore. Poison Ivy was the only one who knew anything, she was the only one he was going to kill. Then he was leaving Ned on that damn bus bench, driving to the train station, and saying adios to DC for good.

His duty to his family was over.

From the roof, he was blocked from the cops’ view by the surrounding buildings. That gave Brian the opportunity to use the fire escape. He looked at the metal-didn’t look like it would hold him. He didn’t trust these rickety pieces of crap city fire escapes. More than the weight of one person and it looked like the bolts would tear away from the building.

Carefully, he put his weight on the first landing. Surprisingly, it held him. As quietly as possible, he lowered the ladders to get to the second floor. The ladders didn’t cooperate. They made such a racket that a woman popped her head out of a window two over and yelled at him. He glared at her, and she went back inside.

On the second-floor landing, he inspected the cinder-block fence that surrounded the church. Barbed wire was embedded along the top of the fence, but if he jumped over it and landed with a roll, he should avoid the sharp barbs. It was only twelve feet.

He jumped before anyone else popped a head out of a window and made enough noise to alert the feds. He landed on his feet and immediately fell into a roll. But he rolled over a sprinkler head and felt the sharp edges cut into his back.

The pain made him angry.

Dammit, that he should have to go through this shit just to find one little whore who tried to play with the big girls. Maybe he would just kill them all before he left, just on general principle. He jumped up, trying to shake off the pain.

The back of the church was completely shielded from the front. Half the building had no windows, the other half had high windows. He went to the nearest door, turned the knob.

Locked.

He searched for an easier entrance, but there was none-the only other door in the back was also locked. But the second door was better concealed, so he had more time to break in. It took him several minutes. He became frustrated, especially since he could feel his shirt sticking to the blood on his back. Finally the lock popped.

When he stepped in, the first thing he heard were children singing.

Children.

He was not going to kill children.

This day could not have gotten worse.

He pulled out his gun and stepped into the room. Six pairs of pint-sized eyes stared at him. The teacher, a tall black woman, jumped up.

“Hold it,” Brian said. “I don’t want to hurt any of you, but I will if I have to. I want Ivy, I want her now. Or I will start shooting.”

He looked the teacher in the eye, could practically see her little mind running through all her options. “Don’t,” he warned, adrenaline combating his fatigue. “I’ve had a real shitty couple days and frankly, I’m not in the mood for heroes.”

Lucy had always admired her sister-in-law, but she’d never seen Kate in action. The only time she’d watched her at work was in her home office. In the field, Kate was all business.

Kate approached the four agents who were their backup.

“Monitor exits and entrances, you know who we’re looking for and why. But also be careful-someone is stalking her, we have no idea what he looks like, so keep your eyes and ears open.”

Lucy remembered Ivy’s comment about “Dumb and Dumber.” She said, “There may be two male suspects, working together or separately.”

“They already killed six people,” Kate said. “And one of them shot a cop. We want them alive, if possible, but preservation of innocent life is our number-one goal.” She motioned for Lucy to follow her into the church. “Ready?”

Lucy nodded. She was calm and focused, her eyesight sharp and vivid.

St. Anne’s was a small, gothic church with dark pews and tall, elaborate stained-glass windows. An organ that appeared to be far too big for the church dominated one corner. Several parishioners were dotted around the room, kneeling in prayer.

Lucy followed Kate to the front of the church. The sacristy was behind the altar. Father Harris was coming out as they approached, startled when he saw them.

“May I help you?”

“We’re looking for Ivy Harris,” Kate said after identifying herself.

“Why?”

“She used you as a reference on her rental application. She said you were her father.”

“You mean her priest.”

“No, her flesh-and-blood daddy.”

“I’m sure there’s a mistake.”

“Do you know her?”

“I’m not sure.” Father Harris looked at his watch. “I have an appointment, then I can look at my records-”