“Under the leaves.”
Alex drew a breath. “Mommy covered you with leaves?”
“Mama.” It was a frightened little plea.
“He hurt your mama?” Alex whispered. “The man hurt your mama?”
“She runned.” Hope’s hands clutched Alex’s blouse frantically. “He was coming, so she runned. He g-g-got her and he hit her and hit her and-” Hope was rocking as she chanted the words. Now that she was talking she seemed unable to stop.
Unable to listen to any more, Alex cupped the back of Hope’s head and pressed Hope’s mouth into her shoulder while the child sobbed. Meredith’s arms came around her and they sat, listening to Hope’s choked sobs. “Bailey hid Hope so he wouldn’t find her,” Alex whispered. “I wonder how long you stayed under those leaves, baby.”
Hope said nothing, just rocked and sobbed until finally she quieted, breathing hard, her little forehead covered in sweat, her cheeks drenched. The front of Alex’s blouse was soaking wet and Hope still clutched the fabric in her hands. Alex shifted her, prying her fists away, cradling her.
The door behind them opened and Daniel and Mary McCrady came in, looking sober. “You heard?” Alex said, and Daniel nodded.
“I came into the back room when she started drawing the flute. I called Mary.”
“I was already on my way for our session.” Mary brushed her hand over Hope’s hair. “That was hard, Hope, but I’m so proud of you. So’s your aunt Alex.”
Hope burrowed her face into Alex’s chest and Alex’s arms tightened around her protectively. “Can she be done for now?”
“Yes,” Mary said, sympathy on her face. “You hold her for a while. But let’s not wait too long, okay? I think we might be able to get somewhere with the artist now.”
“A little longer,” Alex insisted. She looked up at Daniel, whose eyes were resting on her in an almost palpable caress. Then he spread his big hand over Hope’s thin back in a gesture so tender it stole her breath.
“You did well, Hope,” he said softly. “But, honey, can I ask you one more question? It’s important,” he added, more for her own benefit, Alex thought, than for Hope’s.
Hope nodded, her face still pressed against Alex’s chest.
“What happened to your mommy’s flute?”
Hope shuddered. “In the leaves,” she said, her voice muffled.
“Okay, sweetheart,” Daniel said. “That’s all I needed to know. I’m going to have Ed go over that area in the woods again. I’ll be back in a little while.”
Atlanta, Thursday, February 1, 9:15 a.m.
Daniel had barely hung up after talking to Ed when Leigh appeared in his doorway.
“Daniel, you have a visitor. Michael Bowie, Janet’s brother. He’s not happy.”
“Where is Chase? He’s supposed to be handling communications.”
“Chase is in a meeting with the captain. You want me to tell Bowie you’re not here?”
Daniel shook his head. “No. I’ll come talk to him.”
Michael Bowie looked like exactly what he was-a man whose sister had been viciously murdered days before. He stopped pacing when Daniel stopped at the counter. “Daniel.”
“Michael. What can I do for you?”
“You can tell me you’ve found the man who killed my sister.”
Daniel steeled his spine. “No, I can’t. We’re following leads.”
“You’ve been saying that for days,” Michael gritted.
“I’m sorry. Have you thought of anyone who hated Janet enough to do this?”
Michael’s ferocity seemed to wilt. “No. At times Janet was selfish and arrogant. Sometimes she could be devious and just plain mean. But nobody hated her. She and Claudia and Gemma… They were just girls. They didn’t do anything to deserve this.”
“I’m not saying they deserved this, Michael,” Daniel said gently. “But someone has targeted Janet and the girls she knew.” To be pawns in a bigger game. “Anything you can remember. Any person she’d annoyed.”
Michael made a frustrated noise. “You want a list? The girls were spoiled and probably pissed people off every day of their lives. But this. They did nothing to deserve this.”
Michael was grieving, Daniel knew. That the girls hadn’t deserved their fate was a break in logic he couldn’t yet absorb. He would, in time. Victims’ families usually did.
“I can’t tell you what you want to hear, Michael. Not yet. But we will catch him.”
Michael nodded stiffly. “You’ll call me?”
“As soon as I have news to share. I promise you that.”
Chapter Twenty
Atlanta , Thursday, February 1, 10:15 a.m.
I can take her, Alex,” Meredith said, looking up from her laptop. “You haven’t moved from that position in an hour. Your arms have to be breaking by now.”
Still sitting at the table in the room with the two-way mirror, Alex pulled Hope a little closer. “She’s not that heavy.” Even asleep, Hope grabbed at Alex’s shirt as if she was afraid Alex would leave her. “I should have been with her all this time,” Alex murmured.
“Ideally, yes,” Meredith said logically. “But this is far from ideal. You’ve been looking for Bailey. You needed to see Fulmore and all the other people, so stop feeling guilty.”
But as she held Hope, Alex knew it was more than simple guilt. She’d been quick to accept the responsibility for Hope’s physical care and safety, but until Hope had sobbed against her, she hadn’t opened her heart to this little girl who’d needed her. She hadn’t opened her heart to many people over the years. Certainly not to Richard, and if she was honest, not even to Bailey. Again, she’d been quick to offer help to get Bailey into rehab, but she hadn’t offered her heart.
Maybe she hadn’t known how. Deep down she was afraid she still didn’t. But then the door opened and Daniel came in, and every dark and heavy thing inside her heart lightened at the sight of him. Maybe there was hope for her after all. It was a light in the midst of all the darkness.
“Is it time for Hope to go with Mary?” she asked softly, but he shook his head.
“Not yet. I didn’t mean to make you wait here so long. There’s a sofa in the break room. Hope can sleep there until Mary comes back.”
Alex started to rise, Hope in her arms, but Daniel stopped her. “I’ll take her.” And he did, holding Hope much like he’d held Riley the night before. Hope didn’t wake, though she snuggled against him, and Alex was hit with a wave of longing so strong it almost knocked her over.
This is what I want. This child. This man. She stood unsteadily, a wave of panic following in the wake of the longing. What if he doesn’t want the same? What if I can’t give him what he needs?
Meredith was watching her with a frown. “Come on.” She put her arm around Alex’s shoulders as they followed Daniel.
Daniel stopped at the sofa in the break room, Hope nestled on his shoulder. He gently rocked from side to side, his brows bunched, his mind obviously somewhere else. Alex was certain he didn’t realize what a picture he made, strong golden-haired man holding the small golden-haired child.
He settled Hope on the sofa and shrugged out of his jacket to cover her, then glanced at Alex and gave her that half smile. “Sorry, my mind wandered.”
“Where did it go?” she said, her voice low.
“To the day your mother died.” He slid his arm around her waist and walked her to a table by the coffee machine. “I need to talk to someone who talked to your mother after she found Alicia.” He pulled out chairs for her and Meredith.
“That would have been Sheriff Loomis, Craig, the coroner, and me,” Alex said, sitting down.
“And me,” Meredith added.
Daniel’s hands stilled on the coffeepot. “You talked to Kathy Tremaine that day?”