Dutton, Tuesday, January 30, 5:45 p.m.
Oh, God. Alex. Daniel’s heart started to race as pulled into the street to Bailey Crighton’s house. An ambulance was parked on the curb, its lights flashing.
He ran to the ambulance. Alex sat inside in the back, her head between her knees.
He forced his voice to be calm even though his heart was stuck in his throat. “Hey.”
She looked up, pale. “It’s just a house,” she hissed. “Why can’t I get over this?”
“What happened?”
The paramedic appeared from the other side of the rig. “She had a garden-variety panic attack,” he said, condescension in his tone. Alex’s chin shot up and she glared. But she said nothing and the paramedic made no apology.
Daniel put his arm around her. “What exactly happened, honey?” he murmured, glancing at the paramedic’s badge. P. Bledsoe. He vaguely recalled the family.
Alex leaned against him. “I tried to go in. I got to the front porch and I got sick.”
Bledsoe shrugged. “We checked her out. She had a slightly elevated BP, but nothing out of range. Maybe she just needs some tranquilizers.” He said it with sarcasm and it wasn’t until Alex stiffened that Daniel understood what the man had meant.
Sonofabitch. Daniel stood, fury hazing the edges of his vision. “Excuse me?”
Alex grabbed his jacket between her fingertips. “Daniel, please.”
But there was shame in her voice and his temper blew. “No. That was inexcusable.”
Bledsoe blinked innocently. “I was just suggesting that Miss Tremaine calm down.”
Daniel’s eyes narrowed. “Like hell you were. Plan on filling out about fifty forms, buddy, because your supervisor’s going to hear about this.”
The color rose in Bledsoe’s cheeks. “I really didn’t mean any harm.”
“Tell it to your supervisor.” Daniel lifted Alex’s chin. “Can you walk?”
She looked away. “Yeah.”
“Then let’s go. You can sit in my car.” She was quiet until they got to his car. He opened the front passenger door, but she pulled back when he tried to guide her in.
“You shouldn’t have said anything. I don’t need to make more enemies in this town.”
“Nobody should talk to you like that, Alex.”
Her mouth twisted. “Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think it’s humiliating enough that I can’t even walk into that place?” Her voice became cool. “But what he intimated is true. I did swallow a bottleful of tranquilizers and nearly offed myself.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Of course it’s not the point. The point is that I need the people in this town until I find out what happened to Bailey. Long term, I don’t care. It’s not like I plan to live here.”
Daniel blinked, for the first time considering that at some point she’d return to the life she’d dropped so abruptly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think about it that way.”
Her shoulders sagged, the cool façade vanishing. “And I’m sorry. You were trying to help. Let’s just forget it.” She bent to get into his car and her face relaxed. “Riley.”
Riley sat behind the wheel, alert and sniffing. “He likes the car,” Daniel said.
“I can see that. Hey, Riley.” Scratching Riley’s ears, she looked through the driver’s window to Bailey’s house. “A grown woman shouldn’t be afraid of a house.”
“You want to try again?” Daniel asked.
“Yes.” She backed out of the car and Riley stepped over the gearshift, following her to the passenger seat. Her expression was severe. “Don’t let me run. Make me go in.”
“Ed won’t like it if you throw up on his crime scene,” he said mildly, taking her arm and slamming the car door in Riley’s face.
She huffed a chuckle. “If I turn green, run.” But the chuckle disappeared as they neared the house. Her step slowed and her body trembled. This was a real physical reaction, Daniel realized.
“PTSD,” he murmured. Post-traumatic stress disorder. She had all the signs.
“I figured that out on my own,” she muttered. “Don’t let me run. Promise me.”
“I promise. I’ll be right behind you.” He lightly pushed her up the front porch stairs.
“I got this far before.” She said it between her teeth. Her face had grown very pale.
“I wasn’t with you before,” he said. She leaned back at the open front door and Daniel gently but firmly propelled her forward. She stumbled, but he caught her, keeping her upright. Her body was shaking now and he could hear her muttering to herself.
“Quiet, quiet.”
“The screams?” he asked and she nodded. He looked over her shoulder. Her arms were crossed tight over her chest, her face was clenched, her eyes closed tight. Her lips moved in a silent mantra of “Quiet, quiet.” Daniel slipped his arms around her waist and held her to him. “You’re doing great. You’re in the living room, Alex.”
She only nodded, her eyes still clenched shut. “Tell me what’s here.”
Daniel puffed out a breath. “Well, it’s a mess. There’s garbage on the floor.”
“I can smell it.”
“And there’s an old mattress on the floor, too. No sheet. The mattress is stained.”
“With blood?” she asked through her teeth.
“No, probably sweat.” She was still trembling, but not as violently. He tucked her under his chin. She fit perfectly. “There’s an old picture hanging on the wall, crooked. It’s one of those beach scenes with the sand dunes. It’s discolored and old.”
She was relaxing into him a little more each minute. “That was never here before.” She opened her eyes and drew a sharp breath. “The walls are painted.” There was relief in her voice and Daniel thought about how this house must appear in her dreams.
She’d found her mother dead in this room. He’d discovered gun-to-the-head suicides over the course of his career. At least one of the walls would have been covered in blood, brains, and bits of bone. What a horrific memory to have carried all these years.
“The carpet is blue,” he said.
“It was brown before.” She turned her head, taking it all in. “It’s all different.”
“It’s been thirteen years, Alex. It’s to be expected that they’d clean up. Paint. Nobody would leave the house the way you remembered it.”
Her laugh was self-deprecating. “I know. I should have known, anyway.”
“Sshh.” He kissed the top of her head. “You’re doing great.”
She nodded, her swallow audible. “Thank you. Wow, the cops were right. This place is a sty.” She nudged the mattress with her toe. “Bailey, what were you thinking?”
“You want to come with me to look for Ed?”
She nodded quickly. “Yes,” she blurted. “Don’t-”
Don’t leave me alone. “I won’t leave you, Alex. You ever see those old vaudeville acts? We’ll just walk like them.”
She chuckled, but it was a pained sound. “This is ridiculous, Daniel.”
He started walking, keeping her close. “Ed?” he called.
The back door slammed and Ed came in through the kitchen. His serious expression became one of surprise when he saw Alex. “Did the EMTs say she was okay?”
“You called them?” Daniel asked.
“Yeah. She was white as a sheet and her pulse was through the moon.”
“Thank you, Agent Randall,” she said, and Daniel could hear the embarrassment in her voice. “I’m okay now.”
“I’m glad.” He looked at Daniel, gentle amusement in his eyes. “I offered to hold on to her, but she turned me down flat.”
Daniel gave him a don’t-even-think-about-it look and Ed bit back his smile, then sobered, his hands on his hips as he looked around the room. “This is staged,” Ed declared, and beneath Daniel’s chin, Alex’s head shot up.