“No, it’s definitely real and definitely human,” Ed said. “And it’s old.”
Dread settled in the pit of Daniel’s stomach. “How old?”
“One of guys in the lab is a hair expert. He thinks at least five years. Maybe ten.”
“Or thirteen?” Daniel asked and Ed shrugged.
“Maybe. I can test it, but once I run the test there won’t be a lot left for DNA.”
“Run the DNA first,” Chase said grimly. “Daniel, get Alex to give us some hair. I want them tested side by side.”
“I’ll have to tell her why.”
“No, you don’t. Tell her anything you want, just don’t tell her why. Not yet at least.”
Daniel frowned. “She’s not a suspect, Chase.”
“No, but she’s involved. If it’s a match, then tell her. If not, why upset her?”
That at least made sense. “All right.”
Chase straightened the knot of his tie. “Now, it’s showtime. I’ll field the questions.”
“Wait a minute,” Daniel protested. “I’m lead. I can field my own damn questions.”
“I know, but remember what I said about hearing ‘Vartanian’ and ‘Dutton’ in the same sentence. The brass wants me to face the press. Nothing else changes.”
“Fine,” Daniel muttered, then stopped when he got to Leigh’s desk. Alex was gone. “Where is she?” He shoved his hand into his pocket. He still had her car keys. She could have taken a cab, but surely she wasn’t that stupid. If-
“Relax, Danny,” Leigh said. “She’s in the hall making a phone call.”
Daniel felt a spike of tension in his neck ebb. “Thanks.”
“Daniel.” Chase was holding open the door. “Let’s go.”
Daniel could see her at the end of the hall as he, Chase, and Ed walked the other way. She was on her cell phone, bowed over, hugging herself with one arm. Her shoulders were shaking and with a jolt he realized she was crying.
He stopped, the pressure on his chest making it hard to breathe. After all she’d been through in the last two days, he hadn’t seen her cry. Not once.
“Daniel.” Chase grasped his shoulder and yanked. “We’re late. Let’s go. I need you focused. You can talk to her later. She can’t go anywhere, you took her keys.”
Ed shot him a look of surprised sympathy and Daniel realized everything he felt must be showing on his face. He carefully drew a blank expression and left Alex crying in the hall.
He’d do his job. He’d track down this killer who taunted them with keys and clues. He had to make sure no other women were found in ditches. He had to keep Alex safe.
Atlanta , Tuesday, January 30, 2:30 p.m.
“I’m so sorry, Miss Fallon,” Nancy Barker said. The county social worker sounded almost as devastated as Alex felt. “I don’t know what else to tell you at this point.”
“Are you sure?” Alex insisted. She wiped her face with the back of her bandaged hand. She hated the weakness of tears. They never helped. But she’d gone for days expecting to hear Bailey was dead. She hadn’t expected… this. Not this. And on top of the events of the day… Alex supposed everyone had a limit and she’d reached hers.
“I know this is hard, but Bailey was an addict. Heroin addicts have a much higher recidivism rate. You’re a nurse. I’m not telling you anything you don’t know.”
“I know. I also know everyone in Bailey’s recent life has sworn she’d gone clean.”
“Maybe she was under stress and just couldn’t take it anymore. Addicts go back to the life for all kinds of reasons. All I know is that she called the office and left a message for, quote, ‘whoever has my baby, Hope Crighton.’ The social worker who took the call knew Hope was one of my cases and forwarded the message to me.”
“So nobody physically talked to Bailey.” The initial shock was wearing off and Alex’s mind was working again. “When did she leave the message?”
“Today, about an hour ago.”
An hour ago. Alex looked at her bandaged hands. No coincidences, Daniel had said. “Can you forward that message to my phone?”
“I don’t know. We have an internal phone system. Why?”
Alex heard the mild disapproval in the social worker’s voice. “Miss Barker, I’m not trying to be difficult or in denial, but two women from Bailey’s hometown are dead. You can’t blame me for being suspicious of a phone call allegedly from Bailey that says she’s really run off and left Hope to the system.”
“Two women?” Barker said. “I read about the first woman, the congressman’s daughter being from Dutton, but now there’s another?”
Alex bit her lip. “That’s not public knowledge yet.” Although Daniel was off at his press conference by now, so it would be soon. “You can understand my apprehension.”
“I suppose so,” Barker said thoughtfully. “Well, I don’t know how to forward a message outside our phone system, but I can have it recorded it for you.”
“That would be wonderful. Can I pick up the tape today?”
“It might be tomorrow. Bureaucracy, you know.”
She sounded doubtful, so Alex pushed harder. “Miss Barker, right before that call came into your office, someone tried to run me down in the street. If someone hadn’t pushed me out of the way, I could be dead right now.”
“Oh my God.”
“Now you understand.”
“Oh my God,” Barker repeated, stunned. “Hope could be in danger.”
The thought of anyone touching Hope left Alex cold. Still she kept her voice confident. “I’m requesting police protection. If I have to, I’ll move Hope out of town.”
“Who’s with Hope right now?”
“My cousin.” Meredith had been exceedingly upset by the news of the near miss that afternoon. Alex had been on the phone with Meredith when the call from Barker had beeped through. “She’s a child psychologist from Cincinnati. Hope’s in good hands.”
“Fine, then. I’ll call you once I’ve recorded this message.”
Alex called Meredith back, bracing herself for a tirade. She was not disappointed.
“You’re coming home with me,” Meredith stated, bypassing any greeting.
“No, I’m not. Mer, that call was from the social worker. Somebody claiming to be Bailey called saying she’d just come off a high and wanted to be sure someone had Hope, that they should keep her, that she was never coming back.”
“Maybe it was Bailey, Alex.”
“The call was placed an hour ago, right about when that car tried to mow me down. Somebody wants me to stop looking for Bailey.”
Meredith was quiet for a few beats, then she sighed. “Did you tell Vartanian?”
“Not yet. He’s at a press conference. I’m going to request protection, but I don’t know if they’ll give it to me. Maybe you should take Hope to Ohio with you.”
“No, not yet. We may have something. I was afraid to turn the TV on today because they keep talking about the murders. So I plugged the organ in and played ‘Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.’ One-fingered, nothing fancy. Just to keep myself sane.”
“And then?”
“And then Hope got this strange look on her face. It was creepy, Alex.”
“Where is Hope now?”
“Playing the damn organ like she has been for the last two hours. I’m on the front porch. I had to have a break or I was going to scream. She picked out this tune. Six notes. She keeps playing it again and again. I’m half expecting her to start building mountains out of mashed potatoes any minute.”
“What’s the tune?” Alex listened with a frown as Meredith hummed it. “I’ve never heard it before. Have you?”
“No, but if the organ is anything like the coloring, we’ll be hearing it for a long time.”
Alex thought for a minute. “Do me a favor. Call her preschool and ask if they’ve heard it. Maybe it’s a song they sing in school.”