Lisa Gardner - The killing hour

Knowles’s mouth was ajar. He looked pale and troubled at the news, then glanced at the tiny sample with a fresh distrust. “All right,” he said abruptly. “Give me two hours.”

“One last item.” Mac’s attention went to Ray Lee Chee. “We have one more sample we need tested. Problem is, we don’t know what it is.”

He held out the glass vial bearing the residue from the second victim’s hair. Ray took it first, then handed it over to Knowles. Neither man knew what it was, but decided a palynologist would be their best bet-an expert in pollen. And they were in luck. One of the best in the state, Lloyd Armitage, was due in this afternoon for a team meeting.

“Anything else?” Ray asked.

“Rice,” Kimberly said. “Uncooked long grain. Does that mean anything to either of you?”

That brought a fresh round of bemused looks. Knowles confessed he was a pasta man. Ray Lee Chee said he’d always hated to cook. But hey, they’d ask around.

And that was that. Knowles would attempt to test their water for mineral samples; Ray would inquire about rice; and Mac and Kimberly would hit the road.

“The leaf was easier,” Kimberly said shortly, as they walked down the hall.

“That was probably the point.” Mac pushed through the exterior door and led them back into the wall of heat. He glanced at his watch and Kimberly caught the gesture.

“Time?”

“Yep.” They got into his car and headed for the airport.

Richmond, Virginia

10:34 A . M .

Temperature: 94 degrees

KIMBERLY’S FIRST GLIMPSE OF NORA RAY WATTS was not what she had expected. In her mind, she had pictured a young, deeply traumatized girl. Head bowed, shoulders hunched. She would wear nondescript clothes, trying desperately to blend in, while her furtive gaze would dash around the crowded airport, already seeking the source of some unnamed threat.

They’d handle the girl with kid gloves. Buy her a Coke, pick her brain for what she claimed to know about the Eco-Killer, then send her back to the relative safety of Atlanta. That’s how these things were done, and frankly, they didn’t have time to dick around.

Nora Ray Watts, however, had another plan in mind.

She strode down the middle of the airport terminal, with an old flowered bag slung over her shoulder. Her head was up, her shoulders square. She wore a pair of slim-fitting jeans, a wispy blue shirt over a white tank top, and a pair of heavy-duty hiking boots. Her long brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she hadn’t a shred of makeup on her face. She headed straight for them, and the other travelers immediately gave way.

Kimberly had two impressions at once. A young girl, grown up too fast, and a remote woman who now existed as an island in the sea of humanity. Then Kimberly wondered, with almost a sense of panic, if that’s what people saw when they peered into her own face.

Nora Ray walked up and Kimberly looked away.

“Special Agent McCormack,” she said gravely and shook Mac’s outstretched hand.

He introduced Kimberly, and Nora Ray took her hand as well. The girl’s grip was firm, but quick. Someone who didn’t like touching.

“How was the flight?” Mac asked.

“Fine.”

“How are your parents?”

“Fine.”

“Uh huh. And what kind of story did you feed them about today?”

Nora Ray brought her chin up. “I told them I was going to spend a few days with an old college classmate in Atlanta. My father was happy I was going to see a friend. My mother was busy watching Family Ties. ”

“Lying’s not good for the soul, little girl.”

“No. And neither is fear. Shall we?”

She headed toward the food court, while Mac arched a brow.

“She’s not your typical victim,” Kimberly murmured as they fell in step behind the girl. Mac merely shrugged.

“She has a good family. Least she did before this.”

In the food court, Mac and Kimberly got large cups of bitter coffee. Nora Ray purchased a soda and a banana muffin, which she then proceeded to pick at with her fingers as they sat at a small plastic table.

Mac didn’t ask anything right away. Kimberly, too, took her time. Sipping the foul-tasting brew, looking around the Richmond airport as if she hadn’t a care in the world. Nothing better to do than sit around in air-conditioned glory. Nothing more urgent today than getting that perfect cup of coffee. If only her heart hadn’t been beating so hard in her chest. If only they all hadn’t been so unbearably aware of the fleeting nature of time.

“I want to help,” Nora Ray said abruptly. She’d finished destroying her muffin, and now she looked at them with a nervous, shaky expression. Closer to the young girl again, not so much the remote woman.

“My boss tells me you know something about the current situation,” Mac said neutrally.

“He’s at it again. Taking girls. Two are dead, aren’t they?”

“How do you know that, honey?”

“Because I do.”

“He call you?”

“No.”

“Send you letters?”

“No.” She stiffened her spine. Her voice grew stubborn. “You answer my question first. Are two more girls dead? Is he doing it again?”

Mac was silent, letting the moment drag out. Nora Ray’s fingers returned to the bits of her muffin. She kneaded them back together, then tore them apart into a fresh round of small, doughy balls. But the girl was good. She outlasted both of them.

“Yeah,” Mac said tersely. “Yeah, he’s killing again.”

The fire left her all at once. Nora Ray’s shoulders slumped, her hands fell heavily on the table. “I knew it,” she whispered. “I didn’t want to know, I wanted to believe it was only a dream. But in my heart… In my heart I always knew. Poor girls. They never stood a chance.”

Mac leaned forward. He folded his arms on the table and studied her intently. “Nora Ray, you have to start talking. How do you know these things?”

“You won’t laugh?”

“After the last thirty-six hours, I don’t have the strength left in me to smile.”

Nora Ray’s gaze flickered to Kimberly.

“I’m even more tired than he is,” Kimberly told her. “So your secret’s safe with us.”

“I dreamt them.”

“You dreamt them?”

“I dream of my sister all the time, you know. I never tell people. It would only upset them. But for years I’ve watched Mary Lynn. She’s happy, I think. Wherever she is, there are fields and horses and plenty of sunshine. She doesn’t see me; I don’t know if I exist in her place. But I get to see her, from time to time, and I think she’s doing all right. But then, a few days ago, another girl appeared. And last night, a second girl joined her on the fence. I think they’re still figuring out that they’re dead.”

Mac’s expression had gone blank. He rubbed one large hand over his face, then did it again and again. He doesn’t know what to do, Kimberly realized. He doesn’t know what to say. However either one of them had imagined this conversation going, this wasn’t it.

“Are these girls aware of you?” Kimberly asked at last. “Do they talk to you?”

“Yes. One of them has a younger sister. She wanted to know if her sister would also dream about her at night.”

“Can you describe the girls?”

Nora Ray rattled off two descriptions. They weren’t exactly right, but neither were they wrong. A blonde, a brunette. People who claimed to have psychic ability often relied on generic descriptions to get your own imagination to fill in the blanks. Kimberly was feeling tired again.

“Do you see the man?” Mac asked Nora Ray sharply.

“No.”

“You just dream of the girls?”