Karen Rose - Scream For Me

“Where you’re a nurse?”

“Yes. I work in the ER.”

“Tough job.”

“As is yours.”

“You don’t use the name Tremaine.”

A muscle moved in her throat as she swallowed. “No. I had it changed.”

“When you got married?” he asked and realized he was holding his breath.

“I’m not married. I was adopted by my aunt and uncle after my sister died.” Her tone dared him to push further, so he turned the conversation a different way.

She wasn’t married. It didn’t matter. But it did. Deep down, he knew that it mattered very much. “You said your stepsister has a child. You called her Hope.”

“Yes. Hope is four. Social Services found her hiding in a closet Friday morning.”

“The locals think Bailey abandoned her daughter?”

Her jaw tightened, as did her fists. Even in the dim light, he could see her knuckles whiten. “That’s what they think. Hope’s teachers said Bailey would never have left her.”

“So you came straight down to take care of the child?”

She did look at him then, straight and long, and he knew he wouldn’t have been able to look away if he’d tried. Alex Fallon had an inner strength, a purpose… whatever it was, it demanded his attention. “Yes. Until Bailey’s found. One way or another.”

He knew it was a bad idea, nevertheless he took her hand and uncurled her fingers. Her neat, unpolished nails had left deep gouges in the tender flesh of her palm. Gently he rubbed the creases with his thumbs. “And if Bailey’s never found?” he murmured.

She looked down at his hands holding hers, then back up to meet his eyes, and his nerves fired in a chain reaction that seemed to singe his skin. There was a connection here, a tie, an affinity that he’d never experienced before. “Then Hope will be my child and she’ll never be alone and afraid again,” she said quietly but resolutely, leaving no doubt in his mind that she would keep her promise.

And suddenly he was swallowing hard. “I hope you get closure, Miss Fallon.”

The grim line of her mouth softened, not a smile, but still softer. “Thank you.”

He held her hand another few seconds, then released her as Felicity came back in.

Felicity glanced from Daniel to Alex Fallon, her eyes narrowing slightly. “We’re ready, Miss Fallon. We won’t show you her face, all right?”

Alex Fallon nodded. “I understand.”

Felicity pulled the curtain about two-thirds of the way across. Malcolm Zuckerman was on the other side of the glass. Felicity leaned into the speaker. “Let’s begin.”

Malcolm pulled the sheet to the side, revealing the right side of the victim.

“Agent Vartanian said your stepsister had a tattoo,” Felicity said quietly. “I checked myself and saw no scarring. There’s no evidence there was ever a tattoo on that ankle.”

She nodded again. “Thank you. Can he show me the inside of her arm?”

“I didn’t see evidence of needle scarring, either,” Felicity said as Malcolm complied.

Her shoulders finally relaxed and she trembled visibly. “It’s not Bailey.” She met Daniel’s eyes and in hers he saw a raging combination of sympathy, regret, and relief. “You still have an unidentified victim, Agent Vartanian. I’m sorry about that.”

He smiled, but sadly. “I’m glad it’s not your stepsister.”

Felicity pulled the curtain back over the window. “I’ll be starting the autopsy in a few minutes, Daniel. Should I wait for you?”

“If you wouldn’t mind. Thanks, Doc.” He waited until Felicity was gone, then stood up and put his hands in his pockets. Alex Fallon still trembled and he was tempted to pull her against him and hold her until she put her public face back on. “Are you all right, Miss Fallon?”

She nodded unsteadily. “Yes. But Bailey’s still missing.”

He knew what she was asking. “I can’t help you find her.”

Her eyes flashed. “Why not?”

“Because the GBI doesn’t just take cases from the locals. We have to be invited.”

Her jaw tightened and her eyes went cold. “I see. Well, then, can you tell me how to get to Peachtree and Pine?”

Daniel blinked at her. “Excuse me?”

“I said Peachtree and Pine.” She enunciated it. “Sheriff Loomis, the Dutton sheriff, said that’s where I should look for her.”

Damn you, Frank, Daniel thought. That was insensitive and irresponsible . “I’d be glad to give you directions, but you might have more luck after dark, and that I wouldn’t recommend. You’re from out of town and don’t know the safe areas.”

She lifted her chin. “I don’t seem to have much choice. Sheriff Loomis won’t help me and you can’t.”

He didn’t think so, but chose to keep his opinions to himself. He looked down at his shoe, then back up at her. “If you can wait until seven, I’ll take you.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Because I have a six o’clock meeting that’s not done till seven.”

She shook her head. “Don’t play games with me, Vartanian. Why?”

He decided to tell her some small sliver of the truth. “Because that victim was found just like your sister, and on the same day my Jane Doe died, your stepsister disappeared. Whether I have a copycat killer or not, this is too much of a coincidence for me to ignore. And… you’re here, Miss Fallon. Has it occurred to you that you might be a target of a copycat killer, too?”

Her face paled. “No.”

“I don’t mean to scare you, but I’d rather see you scared than lying in there.”

She nodded shakily and he could see he’d made his point. “I appreciate it,” she murmured. “So where should I meet you at seven?”

“How about back here? Don’t wear that suit, okay? It’s too nice.”

“Okay.”

The need to put his arm around her swamped him again, but he shoved it away. “Come on, I’ll walk you up to the front.”

Monday, January 29, 10:45 a.m.

I’m still alive. She struggled to wake up and squinted, unable to open her eyes fully. But it didn’t matter, it was so dark that she couldn’t have seen anything anyway. It was daytime, but she knew that only because she could hear the birds.

She tried to move and groaned when pain streaked everywhere. She hurt so bad.

And she didn’t even know why. Well, technically she knew part of it, maybe even all of it, but she didn’t let herself acknowledge that she held the information in her brain. In her weaker moments she might tell him and then he’d kill her.

She didn’t want to die. I want to go home. I want my baby . She let herself think of Hope and winced as the tear burned on its way down her cheek. Please, God, take care of my baby . She prayed someone knew she was gone, that someone had come for Hope. That someone is looking for me. That she’d be important to someone.

Anyone. Please.

Footsteps approached and she drew a shallow breath. He was coming. God help me, he’s coming. Don’t let me be afraid . And she forced herself to go blank, to clear her mind of everything. Everything.

The door swung open and she winced at the dim light from the hall.

“Well, now,” he drawled. “Are you ready to tell me where it is?”

She gritted her teeth and prepared for the blow. Still she cried out when the end of his boot kicked her hip. She looked up into black eyes that she’d once trusted.

“Bailey, darlin’. You can’t win here. Tell me where the key is. Then I’ll let you go.”

Dutton, Monday, January 29, 11:15 a.m.

It was still there, Alex thought as she stared up at Bailey’s house from the street.

So go in. Check it out. Don’t be such a coward. But still she sat, staring, her heart beating hard and fast. Before she’d been afraid for Bailey. She’d been terrified of Bailey’s house. Now, thanks to Vartanian, she was afraid for herself, too.