J.D. Barker - The Fifth to Die - A gripping, page-turner of a crime thriller

She was cold.

So cold.

No longer in the water but lying on the concrete floor.

Her eyes snapped open.

The man was above her, his palms pressing down into her chest.

As her eyes met his, he stopped. His eyes went wide, and he leaned in, his stale breath rushing over her face. “What did you see?”

Lili gulped another breath of air and swallowed, then another after that.

“Slow down, you’ll hyperventilate.” He reached for her right hand and pressed his thumb into her wrist. “Your pulse is still a bit irregular, but it will even out. Lie still. Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth, calming breaths.”

Lili forced her breathing to slow, doing as he said. Sensation returned to her fingertips, to her toes. She was so cold. She began to shiver uncontrollably.

The man reached for the quilt and draped the sour material over her body. “Your body temperature began to drop the moment you died. It will return to normal in a moment. What did you see?”

She tried to blink away the haze from her eyes, but it hurt to try and keep them open. The thin light seemed incredibly bright, hot, burning. When she pinched her eyes shut, she felt a light slap at her cheek.

Died?

“What did you see?” he asked again. He rubbed her arms through the quilt, the friction slowly warming her.

“I . . . I died?” She coughed again, the words scratching at her throat with the last bit of water.

“You drowned. Your heart stopped for a two full minutes before I brought you back. What did you see?”

Lili heard the words, but it took a moment for them to sink in. Her brain was sluggish, thoughts moving slowly, groggily.

Her chest hurt. There was a deep pain at her ribs. She realized he had probably performed CPR to expel the water and kick-start her heart. “I think you broke my ribs.”

He grabbed her shoulders and shook her limp body. “Tell me what you saw! You have to tell me now before you forget! Before it goes away!”

The pain at her chest burned like a knife gouging her belly — Lili shrieked.

The man released her, pulled back from her. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. You just have to tell me, and this will all be over, just tell me.”

Lili thought about it then, her mind jumping back to the moment she plunged beneath the water, the moment she . . . had she really drowned? She remembered breathing in water, consciousness pulling away. She remembered blackness.

She remembered nothing.

“I didn’t see anything. I think I passed out.”

“You were dead.”

“I . . .” Her words drifted off. She didn’t remember anything at all.

He was staring down at her, his bloodshot eyes wide and wild, spittle dripping from the corner of his mouth.

“I remember blacking out, then you waking me. Nothing else.”

“You must remember something?”

Lili shook her head. “Nothing.”

He released her shoulders and sat back, his back pressed against the large freezer. He pulled off his knit cap and scratched at his head in frustration.

Lili gasped.

There was an enormous fresh surgical incision running across his bald head. It started above his left ear and trailed around to the back of his head. It was stitched together with black thread, the flesh raised and purple.

He pulled the cap back down, covered up, and stood, favoring his right leg. Reaching down, he pulled Lili to her feet. The blood rushed from her head, and she swooned, her vision going white. He held her still until she could stand on her own, then led her back to the cage, guiding her inside. He tossed her clothes in behind her and slammed the door, then clicked both locks back in place.

“You can get dressed. We’ll try again in a few hours. You will remember next time,” he told her.

He started for the stairs, his right leg dragging slightly behind him. “Drink the milk. You’ll need your strength.”

Lili eyed the glass, now warm. A fly had landed in it and drowned.

15

Clair

Day 2 • 9:17 a.m.

The security guard had ushered Clair and Sophie to the far corner of the school’s lobby, then made a few phone calls. There was a small sitting area with a black leather couch, two matching chairs, and a small sign that read: FREE WILCOX WI-FI — PASSWORD AVAILABLE AT SECURITY.

Clair studied the leaf of a large potted tree. “How do they keep this alive indoors? There’s no light.”

Sophie glanced over. “A ficus? They’re like the weeds of the tree world. They’ll eat up whatever light you cast on them. This one is probably sucking up the fluorescents overhead and whatever it can pull from the windows by the door back there.”

“It’s like a frankentree. Looks completely healthy on a diet of artificial junk. I wish I could do that,” Clair replied.

“The one next to it is a philodendron. They’re easy to maintain too — just water whenever the dirt feels dry. I’ve got a few at home. They’re near impossible to kill.”

Clair glanced over. “Oh, I could kill it. My plant love leaves nothing but brown branches and shriveled blooms in its wake. I’m not fit to be a plant owner.”

They heard footsteps from above and glanced up to see a teenage girl coming down the stairs with a purple backpack slung over her shoulder. Not very tall, about five feet or so, with shoulder-length brown hair and pink highlights. She slowed as she saw them, eyeing them warily.

“Gabrielle Deegan?” Clair said, looking up at her.

The girl nodded, descended the remaining steps, and rounded the corner to the sitting area. “Are you looking for Lili?”

“We are,” Sophie said, gesturing toward one of the empty chairs. The girl glanced at the security guard, who offered a reassuring smile, then plopped down into the seat. Sophie and Clair sat opposite her on the couch. “I’m Sophie Rodriguez with Missing Children, and this is Detective Clair Norton with Chicago Metro.”

Clair noted that Sophie didn’t mention she was with Homicide at Chicago Metro.

“Gabby, call me Gabby. Nobody calls me Gabrielle but that guy over there.” She nodded at the security guard. “Captain Law and Order. I should be out looking for Lili, and he’s got these doors locked up tighter than his daughter’s chastity belt.”

Clair exchanged a glance with Sophie, trying not to smile.

“Do you have any leads?”

Gabby wore the traditional school uniform, but Clair noticed her white blouse was untucked and her skirt looked like it had been hemmed up an inch or two from the norm. Her ears, eyebrow, and lip all had piercings, but she wore only a single set of small matching silver loops at each ear. No doubt dress code prohibited anything else— someone seeking individuality in a sea of the same would not be doing so here. Every time Clair entered one of these private schools, she recalled the scene from The Wall with all the identical students marching in unison into a giant meat grinder.

“She’s been gone a full day,” Gabby went on. “She could be lying in a ditch right now or tied to a bed with some crazy psycho telling her to call him Daddy while he jerks off on her chest. If that 4MK guy took her, who knows what he’s doing to her. You need to find her.”

“When was the last time you spoke to her?” Clair asked.

“Wednesday night. She was working,” Gabby said. “She texted me from the gallery.”

“What did she say?”

“She didn’t say anything, she just sent me a picture of a new Mustang. Cherry red. It was gorgeous. Her dad said he’d buy her a car when she graduates next year, so we’ve been doing this thing where we send each other pictures of cool cars when we find them. She’s not sure what she wants yet. But her dad said if she graduates with straight As, he’ll buy her whatever. He’s a doctor, so I think he’s serious. I told her she should get a Maserati, but she doesn’t want to take advantage of him. She’s trying to find something cool but still affordable. I keep telling her to break the bank if she can, so she sent me the Mustang pic, and I sent her this one.”