(Blood and Bone, #1) Blood and Bone (26 page)

“She looks so young and sweet. I wouldn’t have thought it possible for her to be like her father,” Rory mutters, sounding like he finally sees her.

I shake my head. “She doesn’t know she is. She doesn’t know what she does when she sleeps. She remembers nothing. She believes herself to be a victim of him. When she thought she’d done something wrong it nearly killed her.” I run my weak and trembling hand through her silky blonde hair. “She’s not bad, not on purpose.”

He lifts me back from the bed, helping me from the room. I don’t look back. That was the last look I should take. I need to separate us now. I need to be me again.

When we are in the hallway Rory sighs again. “Are you sure you’re all right? Ya look a bit pale.” His thick Irish accent always makes me smile.

“I’m fine. Stop.” But he’s not the only one attacking me. As usual, Dr. Angie comes running from the viewing and monitoring room. “Och, lass. Ya shouldn’t be outta that room just yet. Ya know I hate it when ya do that. Ror, ya need to be on top of this. You’re supposed to be in the room until we clear her.”

“She’s meaner than she looks, Ang.”

She glowers at him. “Ya wee chicken, letting a small girl boss ya around.” She winks at me. We both know what kind of small girl I am.

Rory points at the chair. “I’ll wait out here.” I nod and let her take me in her arms. I don’t need the help, but I have to humor her or she starts cussing and soon I’m no better than all the other bloody Yanks who annoy the piss outta her or the friggin’ leprechaun she lives with. She’s a bit racist, but she sounds funny when she does it, so everyone lets it slide.

She leads me to a chair, quickly checking my eyes and listening to my heart. I breathe several times as hard as I can, in and out. She sits next to me, shaking her head. “No more, Jane. Seven is more than anyone else.”

I sigh, letting her put her fingers on my neck and arms. “I just wish I could fill the gap, you know?”

She shakes her head again. “No, I don’t. But I’m not missing most of my life.” She smiles, giving me that sweet face she always does.

It’s then that he walks in, offering me a sweet smile. His lopsided lips make me cringe inwardly. I recall every caress and every moment of them brushing against me. I know I blush every time I see the man, but I can’t help it. I know I shouldn’t use people I know when I slide into the minds of the criminals or patients, but I can’t
help it. Something real brings me back easier, and more whole than a made-up story.

Dr. Dash nods at me. “How was it?” His gray-green eyes fix on me, more gray than normal. He must be upset about something.

I shrug, desperate to seem cool and casual. If only he knew about the things I imagined he has done. “I found it, the spot. It was a lake. He wrapped the little girls in blue tarps and sunk them to the bottom of a lake.”

“Jesus.” That’s his version of swearing. He’s akin to a saint, but when he gets really worked up, that’s it, he says
Jesus
or
what the hell
. I try not to say
motherfucker
or
twat
or any of the others my Irish partner and I chant regularly.

Dr. Dash shakes his head, mystified. I can see it on his face. “How long has she taken up after her father?”

“Since she was nine or ten, I think, but it was animals then, and no one knew. Her aunt came and took her away during her father’s trial, abducted her from the state house she was always running away from. She lived in North Carolina and then went to university, but she never finished, so she worked in a shop. She started killing people three years ago when her father was released from jail.”

“He was released after such a short amount of time?”

I nod. “Molestation charges were all they had on him. The disappearing girls were never seen at his residence. Everyone believed he did it, but they never proved a thing. When he got out, she went crazy. She went, from what I can understand, and tortured him. Then she killed him and stayed at that horrid old house. She lived like he was still alive, afraid of him. She would bring him the little girls like she did when she was a kid. He used her to lure them. She would take them back to his house, and they would dress up in pretty dresses and play. Last week she burnt the house to the ground when she woke covered in blood again.”

He holds a hand up. “I can’t do any more, Jane. Sorry. I don’t know how you live with that in your head.”

I lift my gaze to his. “I take things in there with me, things that will create a better memory than the ones the patients try to give me.”

“That’s actually genius.” He swallows, looking as if he might get sick. My skin is prickled from the sickness of it all, but I don’t let it be bigger in my mind than the image of him kissing me and holding me.

The door opens. “They got something. Let’s ride.” Rory nods at the hallway. I hop off the bed, fighting the dizziness. Dr. Dash grabs my arm, steadying me. I linger, feigning just how dizzy I actually am so I might stay in his grip a second longer. He smiles. “Maybe you should stay.”

I shake my head. “I’ve been living in her head for the equivalent of a solid week. I need to see this to the end.”

Rory kisses Angie on the cheek, remaining for a second to whisper something that earns him a wicked grin and a swat. She shakes her head at me. “I don’t know how you spend hours in a car alone with him.”

“He talks about you the whole time. It’s not so bad.” I wink at her and turn away.

He nudges me, glaring down. “Ya might keep some of those things to yourself. What happens on stakeout, stays on stakeout. Ya got me looking weak like a nancy to her. She won’t respect me for that.”

I chuckle, completely aware of the way their relationship works. “You like it when she disrespects you.”

He nods. “Aye, I do.” He opens the door to the roof when we get up the last flight of stairs. I remember the fear of heights and flying that came from Samantha Barnes and grin, refusing to let it get to me. “I’ll drive.”

He looks like he’s about to argue, but he doesn’t. He knows the things I take with me sometimes mess with my abilities at work. No
one else knows. Turning on the engines, I sigh and let it all wash away. I have to conquer her fears in order to be rid of them. My palms sweat and my heart races, but I force it, lifting the helicopter into the air.

“How bad was it?” he finally asks when we are halfway to Geneva, Alabama.

“Bad. He used her to lure the girls, treated her like garbage, and locked her away under the house with a notch hole to watch everything he did. He whipped her when he caught her touching herself. That’s those marks on her back. He whipped her until she was unconscious.”

He blows his breath in disgust. “No bloody wonder she tried to kill herself.”

I nod, hating the fact she is a monster because he treated her like one her whole life. Had she been born to a family who loved her, all those little girls would still be alive.

“Where did you leave her?”

That’s the part that makes me smile. “With a new family in a beautiful home with a new memory.”

He sighs again. “At least that’s how she’ll die, with a mind full of good things.”

I don’t want to talk about it anymore, and I can tell he doesn’t either. We like the success, the closure. We dislike the thrill of the chase in their heads. He’s done three. He does the men, and I do the women. If we suspect who they might be, we watch them, stalk them, and get evidence on them as best as we can. But if we don’t know them at all, it’s a hard ride in their mind. Samantha Barnes never popped up on our radar until a week ago when she slit her wrists in the concrete back room of her work. She sat there, bleeding out on the cold floor. Knowing who she was in the system made the right people curious, but her bedside confession to a nurse started this process. She fell into a coma before we could get any
information. But luckily I don’t need someone to be awake to give me everything they have.

I land the helicopter in a field near a police car. We hop out and run to it. My legs are shaky, but I force myself to be me, and I’m not scared of anything.

“We got the lake. It’s bad. Over twenty so far. The entire state is there, I swear it. We’ve blocked out media, but they’re trying to get in there.” The local police officer gets the door for us. I climb in the back, letting Rory sit in the front with him. He’s adorable; they always are. I love a man in uniform. My days in the military secured that in me.

“Are they dragging the lake?”

He nods. “Divers and dragging and five medical examiners. The FBI sent the forensics in. They’ve taken over the site.”

Rory grins back at me, making me answer with an eye roll. “I’m not scared of the FBI.”

The police officer chuckles. “Yeah, if I were you I wouldn’t be either. Whoever you are, the entire site has been told to let you in and give you everything you ask for.”

I nod. “Excellent.”

He looks worried. “My boss told me if you asked for my virginity I was to give that up.”

Rory and I both chuckle at his reddened cheeks. “I mean, I’m not a virgin.”

Rory slaps him on the arm. “Your secret is safe with us.”

The officer laughs, but I can tell he wishes he hadn’t told us that detail.
We make people nervous—uncategorized military personnel with a higher security clearance than the head of the CIA make everyone nervous. But we don’t belong to the United States; we belong to everyone. A joint task force of nations with everyone from Interpol to the UN at our disposal for information and assistance.

We make people nervous. If they knew what we could do, they would be far more than scared. No one wants to know a person can crawl inside them, rifling through their secrets.

He drives us down a dusty road through the woods.

She was hot and dusty when she came down this road. He turns at a spot I wouldn’t have. The road looks rugged. When he stops I am stunned. It takes a lot to surprise me, but the lake is shockingly beautiful. It’s not how I pictured it. I never saw it in her head, but I wish I had. It would be more beautiful without the mass of law enforcement and medical staff everywhere.

We jump out, running immediately for the line of blue tarps on the side of the rocky beach. I pause, shaking my head when I see them all lined up. There are over twenty now. Rory stands next to me, whistling. “You hit the fucking jackpot.”

“Stop cussing.” My words are blank, but my heart is aching. The pretties who are different, who didn’t talk anymore or look at her, line the beach, each one tied with rope in varying states of decay.

A man in a white forensics suit comes walking over. His face is gray, and his eyes are heavy. “Quite the tip you got there. Can’t say I ever saw this many bodies in one place.”

I nod. What else is there to say? I have seen this many bodies before. I have seen them in Italy—Turin, to be exact. They never lined a beautiful shore. They lined a bunker in the hills, and they weren’t corpses any longer. They were skeletons. I glance up at Rory, wondering if he is reliving the events from that place. His haunted eyes suggest he might be.

18. THE BACKSTORY

W
hen I walk into my town house the black-and-white fiend who stalks the halls comes running. I lift him up, taking a deep inhale of him with my eyes closed. “I missed you too, Binxy.” He purrs, rubbing his head against mine. His thick fur tangles in my fingers, and I notice he’s heavier. “Someone has been milking a certain nice old lady for treats.”

He purrs innocently, ignoring my accusations. If it weren’t for those treats he’d be clawing at me, so we are both grateful. He gets mean when he’s alone too much.

I place him down, noticing the smell in the house. She’s left me food again. Mrs. Starling is the best neighbor a girl could have. She bakes and cooks and cares for my cat when I’m away. Her children live all the way in Seattle, running the family company there. She’s alone in DC, like me. We make for the very best neighbors. She likes to give, even when you don’t ask, and I like to pretend we are family. She is the one person in the world I have. I take the dish of piping-hot chicken Parmesan, my favorite, out of the oven, and start to heat up
the noodles in the microwave. Leaning over the top I smell the spices and herbs mixing with the cheese and sauce. It’s a perfect food, really.

There’s a knock at the door, interrupting my worshipping.

I turn, sketchy for a second, but then I remember I am not Samantha Barnes and walk to the door, lifting Binx up so he doesn’t run away. I nearly gasp when I see the green/gray eyes staring down on me. He lifts my lipstick-red bag into the air. “You forgot this.”

“Thank you.” I take it from him, trying not to imagine us writhing against one another, trying not to be obvious that I am in love with him. He glances down, his glasses and fluffy hair making me smile. There’s no way they can hide the perfection of his face and expressions. He’s a Clark Kent.

He looks behind him at his silver Mercedes in my driveway. “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I point behind me, mimicking him, and blurting, “I have dinner prepared. Do you want to come in?”

“I’d love to.” He nods, saying it too quickly. “What did you make?”