Karen Rose: Silent Scream

Mary lifted a shoulder. “Yes, we did. And we’ll have to live with that. But we’re not telling anyone. We have to act like everything’s normal, or we all go to jail.”

Joel nodded miserably. “I see her face. Pressed up against the glass.”

As did Eric. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was her mouth, open. Screaming. They hadn’t seen her when they were pouring out the glue. She must have been hiding somewhere. Squatting. “She was in that building illegally.”

Joel’s laugh bordered on hysterical. “You can actually use the word illegally? So it’s not our fault? Is that what you’re saying? Do you honestly believe that shit?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Eric said firmly. They had to face facts, and the fact was, he wasn’t going to prison. “We stand together, Joel.”

“But we killed her,” Joel whispered, his voice breaking. “We killed her.”

“Be a man, Fischer,” Albert snarled. “Yeah, we fucking killed her. Get over it.”

Mary’s eyes narrowed. “Leave him alone. He’s in shock and in pain. You didn’t have to hit him so hard.”

Albert’s face was darkly ominous. “I should have hit him harder. Then I wouldn’t have to listen to him whine. We killed her,” he mimicked cruelly. “So goddamn fucking what? We can’t change it, so tell your pussy boyfriend just to shut the hell up about it or I’ll shut him up myself.”

White-faced with fury, Mary opened her mouth to deliver what would surely have been a diatribe every neighbor on Eric’s floor would hear.

“Settle down,” Eric snapped. “We set out to make a statement. We wanted to send a message to the developers-keep away from our wetlands. We sent that message.”

Joel sat up, gingerly pressing his fingertips to the knot on the back of his head left by Albert’s club. “Don’t kid yourself. Nobody’s going to hear our message. All anyone will remember is that girl died. Because of us, she is no longer alive.”

“A regrettable loss,” Mary said, smoothing Joel’s hair. “You said that this is war.”

Joel closed his eyes. “I know what I said. That was before. We killed a human being, Mary. The cops aren’t going to ignore this. They’re going to hunt us down.”

“They wouldn’t have had to hunt far if we’d let you call 911,” Albert muttered.

“Albert,” Mary hissed. “Shut. Up.”

Eric felt a childish yearning for a redo button. But there were no redos here. They’d done what they’d done. Now they had to stay under the radar.

“All of you, just be quiet. We need to be calm or we’ll all end up in prison.” He turned on the TV and started changing channels. Then flinched when the fire scene filled his fifty-inch screen. “Let’s see what the press is saying. Then we’ll figure out what, if anything, we need to do next.”

Monday, September 20, 1:30 a.m.

Liv. Wait.”

Olivia had been walking at a near jog around the burned-out building but stilled at the sound of Kane’s steady voice behind her. She’d been curt with him when he’d only been trying to help. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I shouldn’t have bitten your head off.”

“I’m used to it,” he said in the singsong tone that always reminded her of Eeyore and made her smile. He smiled back. “There we go. I knew your mouth could bend. It doesn’t do that so much lately. Look… I didn’t mean to make it worse.”

Olivia’s shoulders sagged. “I’m doing my job, Kane.”

“I know you are,” he said, his voice soothing without being patronizing. “The department shrink isn’t helping?”

“I don’t need any damn shrink.” Her voice sounded childish to her own ears and she sighed. “Dammit, Kane. I just need some time.”

“Then take some time. But promise me something. If it’s not any easier by the new year, tell me. I know a shrink who might be able to help. One I bet you’ll like.”

She knew why he’d picked that date. New Year’s Eve was his last official day on the job. Kane was retiring after nearly thirty years on the force. Olivia didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to think about breaking in a new partner. But she knew he worried about her, so she nodded. “Okay. Now can we get to the dead guard?”

They turned the corner and immediately saw the body of security guard Henry Weems illuminated by the CSU spotlights. He was lying on his stomach, one arm beneath him, the other outstretched. His pistol lay a few inches from his fingertips. The back of his uniform was dark with blood, the exit wound bigger than Kane’s fist.

Next to his body was a gurney with an unzipped body bag. Londo’s partner, ME tech Dale Eastman, waited patiently as CSU’s Micki Ridgewell snapped pictures.

“Hollow-point bullet?” Olivia asked.

“Likely,” Micki said. “We’re still looking for the slug. As soon as we’re done with the body, we’re going to run a metal detector. But with so much construction crap, it could take a while. We found blood on the ground near the back door, the one that exits lakeside, so that’s probably where he was hit on the head. By the amount of blood on the ground, I think he lay there for several minutes, at least. Let’s roll him.”

Kane and Dale did so. The front of the guard’s uniform was completely blood-soaked, but a small entry wound was visible, right at his heart.

“Shot to kill,” Kane remarked. “How long has he been dead?”

“A couple of hours, tops,” Dale said. “Doc’ll get you a tighter time window.”

Olivia picked up the guard’s gun and sniffed. “Hasn’t been fired, but he was ready. Safety’s off. If he was knocked out, maybe he came to and surprised the arsonist?”

“Who was standing between him and the lake when the shot was fired.” Kane pointed to the lake. “There are two ways to get out of here fast-through the front gate then getaway by car or via the lake by boat. Let’s check the fence for cuts, Mick.”

“Already did. We found three. One there by the dock, one off to the side”-she pointed away from the building-“and one on the same side as the girl was found. We’ll test the wire for oxidation to determine when each cut in the fence was made.”

Olivia looked way up. A security camera was mounted on the corner pole of the fence. “You heard about the cameras?”

“Yeah.” Micki looked very unhappy. “Frickin’ inside job.”

“We’re getting the personnel records,” Kane said. “How hard would it have been to turn off the cameras?”

“Don’t know yet. I’ll get Sugar to check out their system and let you know.” Sugar was Micki’s electronics guru.

“Detectives? You wanted to talk to the firefighter who pulled the girl out?”

Micah Barlow was rounding the building, a firefighter at his side, and any hope she’d held when she’d seen fire truck L21 fizzled away. Her heart squeezed so hard that she sucked in a sharp, involuntary breath. Few men walked like he did. No man looked like that as he did so. No man had the right to look like that.

He was big, the firefighter-at least three inches taller than Barlow who was at least six feet tall himself. The bright CSU spotlights shone on a face grimy and streaked with sweat, but no amount of dirt could change the fact that he was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. Or could ever hope to see again. Goddamn him for that alone.

Of course he’d been on duty tonight. Of course he’d been the firefighter to find the victim, to try to save her, to be smart enough to keep key evidence intact.

Of course he was the one man she hadn’t wanted to see, tonight or any other night. Because he’d gone to great lengths to keep from seeing her. Seven months. He’d moved to Minneapolis seven months ago, but there hadn’t been a single phone call or e-mail. For months she’d wondered why he’d come here. Now she didn’t care.