But Meredith was nodding. “I’ve gotten too close, Alex. Call your consult, Daniel. I’ll help in whatever way I can.”
Atlanta , Tuesday, January 30, 9:00 p.m.
There were a dozen pretty girls at the bar already, but Mack knew exactly which one he’d be taking home. He’d known for five long years, ever since the night she and her two friends had pulled their cute little trick and taken his life away. They’d thought themselves so clever, so smart. Now Claudia and Janet were so dead. And Gemma would soon follow. A fine buzz of anticipation singed his skin as he approached her. However she responded, her evening would end the same.
Done, dead, and wrapped in a brown wool blanket. Just one more tool to terrify the pillars of Dutton. He leaned against the bar, ignoring the protest of the woman behind him as he crowded her off her stool. He had eyes only for his prize.
Gemma Martin. She’d been his first fuck. He’d be her last. They’d been sixteen and her price had been an hour behind the wheel of his ’Vette. She’d been drunk and put a dent in his left fender that night. She was well on her way to being drunk tonight, and the dent he left would be in her. Mack planned to enjoy his revenge very much.
“Excuse me,” he said over the blare of the band.
She turned her head, sweeping her eyes from his head to his feet in blatant assessment, her eyes sharpening with interest. Five years ago she’d laughed at him. Tonight, she was interested and completely unaware of who he was.
She tilted her head. “Yes?”
“I couldn’t help but notice that gorgeous red Corvette you drove in. I’m thinking of buying one. What do you think of yours?”
Her smile was feline and Mack knew he wouldn’t be needing the little bottle of Rohypnol in his pocket to lure her away. She’d come because she wanted to. It would make her end that much more delicious. “It’s the perfect car. Hot, fast, and dangerous.”
“Sounds like exactly what I’m looking for.”
Atlanta , Tuesday, January 30, 9:00 p.m.
“Please call me if you hear anything,” Daniel said into the phone, then hung up just as Chase came into his office, looking as tired as Daniel felt. Chase had just come from a meeting with the brass and from the look in his eyes, it had not ended well.
“Who was that?” Chase asked.
“ Fort Benning. I’d left a bunch of messages for that army chaplain.”
“The one who came to see Bailey yesterday morning and ended up talking to Alex.”
“Yeah. He’d flown into Benning for his R &R. He was headed south of Albany, to his parents’ house, but he never showed up. Even with his stop in Dutton, he should have been in Albany by suppertime, easily. They’re declaring him missing.”
“Hell, Daniel. Tell me some good news.”
“I think I know where Janet was grabbed. I canvassed the area where the phone call to her boyfriend originated and found a guy behind the counter at a sub shop that remembers her, down to the meatball sub she ordered. They have her on their security tape making the order. Felicity didn’t find the sub in Janet’s stomach contents, so she never ate her dinner. I’m thinking he broke into her minivan and overpowered her when she came out.”
“Did we get the van on camera?”
“Nope. No cameras in the parking lot, only inside. And none of the surrounding businesses have cams either. I checked.”
Chase glared. “Then at least tell me the artist’s making some headway with the kid.”
“The artist isn’t available until tomorrow morning,” Daniel said, holding up a weary hand when Chase started to explode. “Don’t fight with me about it. Both artists are with victims. We’re next in the queue.”
“Then who’s got the kid now?” Chase demanded.
“Chase.” Mary McCrady came into Daniel’s office, giving Chase an admonishing look. “The kid’s name is Hope.”
Daniel had always liked Mary McCrady. She was slightly older than he was, slightly younger than Chase. She had a no-nonsense attitude about the world and never allowed anyone to intimidate her-or any of the patients she took under her wing.
Chase rolled his eyes. “I’m tired, Mary. For the last hour I’ve had my guts sliced and diced by my boss and his boss. Tell me you’ve made progress with Hope.”
Mary lifted a shoulder. “You’re a big boy, Chase. You can take a little slicing and dicing. Hope’s a traumatized child. She can’t.”
Chase started to rant, but Daniel cut him off. “What have you been able to learn, Mary?” Daniel asked calmly, and Mary sat down in one of his chairs.
“Not much. Dr. Fallon did exactly what I would have. She’s used play therapy and made Hope feel safe. I can’t pull anything out of Hope that she’s not ready to let go.”
“So you have nothing.” Chase banged his head against the wall. “Wonderful.”
Mary threw an annoyed glance over her shoulder. “I didn’t say we have nothing. I said we have not much.” She pulled a piece of paper from her folder. “She drew this.”
Daniel studied the page. It was the crude drawing style of a child, one figure prone, the head scribbled over with red. The other figure, male and standing upright, nearly filled the page. “It’s more than we’ve gotten before. Since she was found in that closet on Friday she’s only colored predrawn pictures in coloring books.”
Mary got up and went around to his side of the desk. “As close as we can figure, this is Bailey.” She pointed to the prone figure.
“Yeah, that I got. The red was the giveaway.” He looked up at her from the corner of his eye. “Meredith Fallon told you about the pizza sauce and the Play-Doh, right?”
“Yes.” Mary frowned. “I hated to push this baby this far, but we need to find out exactly what she saw.” She pointed to the figure standing up. “Bailey’s attacker.”
“Well, yeah, I got that, too. He’s huge, three times bigger than Bailey.”
“It’s not the man’s actual size,” Mary said.
“It’s his threat, his power,” Chase said from the door and looked a bit sheepish when Mary looked up, surprised. “I’m not a monster, Mary. I know this kid’s been through hell. But the sooner she gets it out, the sooner you can start… fixing her.”
Mary sighed with affectionate exasperation. “We’ll treat her, Chase. Not fix her.” She looked back down at the picture. “He’s wearing a cap.”
“A baseball cap?” Daniel asked.
“Hard to say. Kids her age only have a limited number of graphic images they can draw. All hats mostly look the same. All figures look the same. But look at his hand.”
Daniel rubbed his eyes and brought the picture close. “A stick. Dripping with blood.”
“Did Ed’s team find any bloody sticks?” she asked.
“They’re still processing the scene,” Daniel said. “They’ve set up lights in the woods, looking for the place where Hope might have hidden. Why’s the stick so small?”
“Because she’s repressing it,” Chase said. “It terrifies her, so she makes it as small as she can in her mind.”
Mary nodded. “Pretty much. I thought you’d want to see this. We broke for the night. After we got this, I was afraid to push her anymore. We can continue tomorrow. Get some rest, Daniel.” One side of her mouth lifted. “Doctor’s orders.”
“I’ll try. Good night, Mary.” When she’d gone, Daniel looked at Hope’s drawing, feeling guilty and torn. “Part of me wants all three of them in a safe house, Alex, Hope, and Meredith. But so far Hope and Alex are our only link to whoever’s orchestrating this. If we hide them away…”
Chase nodded. “I know. I increased the police presence. Twenty-four-seven. That’s part of what was on the agenda in this last meeting.”
“That should settle Alex’s mind. And mine. Thank you, Chase.”
“Mary’s right. Get some sleep, Daniel. I’ll see you in the morning.”