Karen Rose: Scream For Me

Alex eyed the stack. “Nancy Barker found one in Hope’s backpack. She said Hope was staring into space, but when she gave her the coloring book and crayons, Hope started to color. Nancy tried to get her to draw on blank paper, hoping Hope would tell her something through her pictures, but Hope kept grabbing the book. She ran out of coloring books early last night and I had to pay the bellboy to go to the store and buy more. More crayons, too.” Alex stared at the box that had held sixty-four crayons, when new. It now held fifty-seven-every color except red. Every redlike crayon was gone, used down to a half-inch nub.

“She likes red,” Meredith observed.

Alex swallowed hard. “I don’t even want to consider the implications of that.”

Meredith lifted a shoulder. “It may mean nothing more than that she likes red.”

“But you don’t think so.”

“No.”

“She’s holding a red crayon now. I finally gave up and let her take it to bed with her.”

“What happened when she ran out of red crayons last night?”

“She cried, but she never said a single word.” Alex shuddered. “I’ve seen thousands of children cry in the ER, in pain, in fear… but never like that. She was like… a robot the way she cried-no emotion. She never made a sound. Not a word. Then she went into what looked like a catatonic state. She scared me so badly that I took her to the clinic in town. Dr. Granville checked her out, said she was just in shock.”

“Did he run any tests?”

“No. The social worker had told me she’d taken Hope to the ER after they found her hiding in the closet on Friday. They ran tox screens and titers to check her immunization record. She’s had all her childhood immunizations and everything else was in order.”

“Who is her family doctor?”

“I don’t know. Granville, the doctor here in town, said he’d never seen Hope or Bailey in ‘a professional capacity.’ He seemed surprised Hope was so clean and well cared for, as if he’d seen her dirty before. He wanted to give her a shot, to sedate her.”

Meredith’s brows lifted. “Did you let him?”

“No, and he got a little huffy, asking why I’d brought her at all if I didn’t want him to treat her. But I didn’t like the idea of drugging a child if you don’t need to. She wasn’t violent and there seemed no danger of her hurting herself, so I didn’t want her drugged.”

“I agree. So all this time Hope never said a word? Are we sure she can speak?”

“The preschool says she’s very talkative, big vocabulary. In fact, she can even read.”

Meredith looked taken aback. “Wow. She’s what, four?”

“Barely. The preschool said Bailey read to Hope every night. Meredith, none of this feels like a junkie abandoning her child.”

“You think foul play, too.”

Something in Meredith’s voice rubbed Alex wrong. “Don’t you?” she demanded.

Meredith was unperturbed. “I don’t know. I know you’ve always given Bailey the benefit of the doubt. But now this isn’t just about Bailey, it’s about Hope and what’s best for her. Are you going to bring her home? To your home, I mean?”

Alex thought of the little apartment she only slept in. Richard had kept the house. Alex hadn’t wanted it. But her apartment was big enough for herself and one small child. “That’s my intent, yes. But Meredith, if something did happen to Bailey… I mean, if she has changed and she’s met with some harm…”

“What will you do?”

“I don’t know yet. I couldn’t get anywhere with the police over the phone and I couldn’t leave Hope alone to go in person. Can you stay with me for a few days? Help me with Hope while I check this out?”

“I had all the appointments with my most critical patients moved to Wednesday before I left. I have to fly back late Tuesday night. It’s the best I can do for now.”

“It’s a lot. Thank you.”

Meredith squeezed her hand. “Now go get some sleep. I’ll sleep here on the sofa. If you need me, wake me up.”

“I’ll sleep in there with Hope. I’m just praying she sleeps through the night. So far she hasn’t slept more than a few hours at a time, then she wakes up and colors. If she needs you, I’ll let you know.”

“I wasn’t talking about Hope needing me. I was talking about you. Now go to sleep.”

Atlanta, Sunday, January 28, 10:45 p.m.

Daniel, I think your dog is dead.” The voice came from Daniel’s living room and it belonged to fellow GBI investigator Luke Papadopoulos. Luke was also quite possibly Daniel’s best friend, despite his being the reason Daniel owned the dog to begin with.

Daniel slid the last plate into the dishwasher, then went to the doorway to his living room. Luke sat on the sofa, watching ESPN. Riley the basset hound lounged at Luke’s feet, looking like he normally did. Which, Daniel had to agree, was like a dog who’d gone on to meet his Maker. “Offer him a pork chop, he’ll perk up.”

Riley opened one eye at the mention of a pork chop, but closed it again, knowing he probably wouldn’t get one. Riley was a pessimistic realist. He and Daniel got along well.

“Hell, I just offered him some of the moussaka, and he still didn’t perk up,” Luke said.

Daniel was able to visualize the results of such an irresponsible action all too well. “Riley can’t have your mom’s cooking. It’s way too rich and that’s bad for his stomach.”

“I know. He got into some leftovers while you were gone up north and he was staying with me.” Luke winced. “It wasn’t pretty, trust me.”

Daniel rolled his eyes. “I’m not paying your carpet-cleaning bill, Luke.”

“It’s okay. My cousin owns his own carpet-cleaning business. I got it taken care of.”

“If you knew, then why for God’s sake did you try to feed him tonight?”

Luke gently nudged Riley’s butt with the toe of his boot. “He always looks so sad.”

“Sad” in Luke’s family meant “feed me.” Which explained Luke’s showing up on Daniel’s doorstep tonight with a full Greek meal when Daniel knew full well he’d had to break a date with his on-again-off-again flight attendant girlfriend to do so. Mama Papadopoulos had been worried about Daniel since he’d returned from Philadelphia the week before. Luke’s mama had a kind heart, but Mama Papa’s food did not agree with Riley, and Daniel did not have a cousin with his own carpet-cleaning business.

“He’s a damn basset hound. They all look that way. Riley’s not sad, so stop feeding him.” Daniel sat in his recliner and whistled. Riley trotted over and plopped at his feet with a huge sigh, as if the four-foot trek had tired him out. “I know how you feel, boy.”

Luke was quiet a moment. “I hear you pulled a tough one tonight.”

Daniel’s mind immediately conjured the victim in the ditch. “You could say that.” Abruptly he frowned. “How did you hear about that already?”

Luke looked uncomfortable. “Ed Randall called. He was worried about you. Your first day back and you pull a case like the Arcadia woman.”

Daniel swallowed his irritation. They all meant well. “So you brought me food.”

“Nah, Mama had that all prepared before Ed called. She’s worried about you, too. I’ll tell her you ate a second helping and that you’re doing all right. So, are you all right?”

“I have to be. There’s work to be done.”

“You could have taken more time off. A week’s not that much, considering.”

Considering he’d had to bury his parents. “When you add in the week I was in Philly looking for them, I’ve been out for two weeks. That’s long enough.” He leaned over to scratch Riley’s ears. “If I don’t work, I’ll go crazy,” he added quietly.