UNSEEN (31 page)

What might have happened if she had responded to that note in eighth grade? What would her life have been like with someone safe like Dan by her side? But—then there would have been no Gabe. That much she did not regret about the road she had taken. She would gladly face all the pain again if it meant having him. She’d made so many bad choices out of weakness, but he was her one victory. Her precious baby was the prize for not taking the easy road—for once in her life.

She had used so many men for the drugs that would kill her sorrow, and they had used her. But looking at Dan sitting next to her, so brave and quiet, she had a glimmer of hope that things could be different. With him she might actually be happy. She slid her hand on top of his and was grateful that he didn't move it away. His skin was warm to the touch; she soaked it in.

He pulled his eyes from the window and looked down at her hand on top of his, then spread his fingers to allow her to grip them. They didn't smile, they didn't speak. It was enough to simply be connected.

On the 395 overpass was the most organized media circus Holly had ever seen. News trucks, news cars, and miscellaneous vehicles lined the breakdown lane from where the bridge started, all the way to the peak where a small group spoke with police officers. The right lane was blocked off by squad cars with lights flashing. An officer was directing traffic to move past. Agent Perez flashed his badge, and the officer waved him straight ahead behind the orange cones running up the center of the bridge.

Near the center the car came to a stop. Agent Perez looked over his shoulder. "Here we are. Now what are you going to show me?"

"
We have to go to the side of the bridge. It's over there."

"
What’s over there?" he said.

"
What I want you to see." She pulled on the handle to her door, but it was locked. Her brows tightened as she peered at him in the rear-view mirror. "Am I under arrest?"

"
You're not leaving until you tell me what we're going to look at."

She snarled. "If I'm not under arrest, you better open this door right now."

Their eyes stayed locked for an excruciating five seconds.

Then Dan said softly, "...Awkward..."

"
Fine,” said Perez. "I'll let you out, but if you’re deceiving me, I will cuff you, and you will be under arrest."

The door lock clicked, and Holly got out, followed quickly by the others. She walked around the back of the car and grabbed Dan by the crook of the arm. She dragged him between the parked cars to the side of the bridge.

A woman from one of the local television stations locked onto Holly and pushed through the group and between the cars. "Miss Paris, may I have a word with you?!"

Dan stepped between them. "She's not talking to anyone right now."

"
Miss Paris, what do you believe the killer intends to do?"

More reporters began moving in their direction.

The agents flashed their badges. "Step back or you will be charged with obstruction of justice." They pushed the group back between the cars, and Holly pulled Dan toward the peak of the bridge.

The earbud came to life again. "Climb up onto the cement rail and shout, ‘I'm going to jump!’ Make it sound convincing!"

Holly pulled away from Dan and looked around frantically. Was the killer near? Was he watching from one of the vehicles on the side of the bridge? She looked at the cement edge and cringed. The drop was at least a hundred feet.

"
Do it now Holly, or your son dies!"

Dan was watching her with concern. There was no way he would let her climb onto the cement wall. Once again, she was taken by surprise at the turn of events, unprepared to do what she was being directed to do. She looked at the confusion around her as the agents and police kept the media at bay.

The earbud buzzed again. "This is your last warning."

She swung her arm around and pointed. "HE HAS A BOMB!" The crowd turned and some ducked for cover. Dan pivoted to see what she was pointing at, and made an attempt to shield her.

She seized the brief seconds to clamor up onto the cement edge, and stand. The lip was two feet wide, but it felt like inches. The dizzying height caused her balance to falter as she stared down at the rushing rapids below. The dam upriver had a cycle of opening and closing, which caused a high tide and low tide in the river. It was currently at low tide; she could see the water bubbling and churning around the large rocks below. There had been discussion by the local municipalities about putting up a chain link fence on the bridge, but the lack of suicides had kept the wheels of progress from moving forward.

Holly forced herself to turn her back to the dangerous scene below. One by one every eye was back on her, including Dan's. She stood with her fists clenched and shouted.

"
I'm GOING TO JUMP!"

Chapter 47

Dr. Carter slumped forward. "Have you ever been in love?"

Angela crouched down. "Yes."

"
Have you ever been so in love you were willing to do anything to protect that person?"

"
Yes."

"
Before I realized what was going on, I had fallen deeply in love with her. I still am. But she is broken. The pain of her childhood has split her in two. I wanted to fix her and make her whole again, but as we got closer to her birthday, to the day when her other-half takes complete control, I realized it was going to happen again. And I knew I had to do something. I thought the two halves of her were separate, and I tried to convince her to stay with me in a locked room till the day passed. But she turned during the conversation, and her other half tried to convince me to help. She said we were the same. In some sick way she sees herself as helping children. She thinks she is helping them avoid the torment she faced as a child—assuming it is better for them to go into oblivion than live this tortured life.”

He looked down at his hands and heaved a sigh. "I asked her, what about the women? What about the pain she is causing them? And that's when I saw the evil inside her. She hates the mothers of these children. She wants them to suffer for their crimes. That's how she sees it. She can't understand why a thief is locked in prison for stealing a television, while negligent mothers roam free on our streets."

Angela interrupted, "I appreciate your testimony, but time is of the essence. She’s threatened to do something at 2:00 today and we need to stop her. It’s 1:50. We need a name, and we need it now."

"
But she'll kill them," he said, hanging his head.

"
Who?"

"
My friends and family. She doesn't want to hurt the innocent, but she said I would be the one hurting them. She said her anger toward me for making her hurt them would make their suffering all the more violent. That's why I went underground. I was afraid you would interrogate me and I wouldn't be able to stay quiet. It is all for them.” His eyes pleaded. "Promise me you’ll handle this with discretion."

"
You have my word. I will only do what is necessary to stop this from happening."

He looked at agent Blake then back at Angela. "I'll whisper it to you, and only you. But you didn't hear it from me."

She fastened the strap on her hand gun, and leaned in. "I'm listening."

His voice was dry in her ear, but there was no mistaking what he said:

"
The killer is Amber Flynn."

Chapter 48

Holly wobbled in the wind as the crowd pushed in toward the edge, and traffic on the other side came to a complete stop. Every eye was on her teetering form on the cement barrier.

Dan reached up, and she screamed, "Don't!"

He froze. The look on his face was a mixture of horror and confusion. "Holly—what are you doing?"

"
Don't touch me!"

He looked over the edge and back up at her. "Holly, come on.” He kept his voice level. "Come on, Holly. Get down.”

Agent Perez edged in. "Listen to me, Holly, whatever he told you to do, you can't trust him. He’s using you. He’s..."

"
STAY BACK!" she screeched.

The earbud buzzed. "Tell them you have a demand."

"
I have a demand!"

"
Tell them you want a microphone."

"
I want a microphone!"

Dan crept forward.

She turned on him with ferocity. "BACK OFF!" Her head snapped up. "I want a microphone!"

Every news agency scrambled to be the first to give her one.

The earbud buzzed again. "Tell them you want everyone to hear."

"
I want everyone to hear! Make sure everyone can hear!"

Dan pleaded with her. "I don't understand. Why are you doing this, Holly?"

She shot him a venomous look.

"
We can work this out. Come on, just come down. Holly—please."

She spoke so only he could hear her over the wind and the noise of the media frenzy. "You have to trust me."

The intensity of his eyes felt like an electrical current passing through her. "I trust you," he said, "I have faith in you."

No one had ever had faith in her before. How odd it should come at the worst possible moment of her life, when she was least deserving of that trust.

A man came running toward her from the crowd. She edged backwards. "Here," he said, "this is connected to the truck, and everyone is plugging into that so we’ll all have a signal." He held out a green box with a black cord and lapel mic coiled on top.

She pointed at Dan. "Give it to him."

Dan held his hand out; the man put the unit into his palm and backed away. Dan held it out toward her and she plucked it from him like a mouse going for the cheese. He didn't attempt to grab her, but took the opportunity to move an inch closer.

She attached the mic to her shirt and clipped the box to the pocket on her shorts.

"
Good," said the killer. "Now you will tell my story, pretending to be me."

The words slowly sunk in. Pretend to be him? And have everyone believe she was the murderer?! Was public humiliation the penalty for her crime? She wanted to protest—but how could she? The communication was only one way; all she could do was listen, and obey.

"
Repeat everything I say."

She did as he requested, without hesitation, as though his voice and hers had melted into one. "I killed those children," she said. "I did it out of mercy, the mercy I was not given by my own mother. My mother was an alcoholic and a drug addict. She sold her body for drug money, and did her business in the ratty one room apartment we lived in. I was beaten by men who didn't know me, forced to gratify them in ways too painful to mention, and victimized by school bullies. To avoid torture I sought refuge in a local gang and was forced to hurt others to be accepted. By the age of nine, I had killed another human being. By the age of twelve, I had prostituted myself to protect my mother. Then at sixteen I stabbed her to death while she slept.

"
What kind of life was I given? What right did my so-called mother have to bring me into her filthy world? Are you a mother, watching me right now? I am speaking to you. You have no right to make another human being suffer in the swill hole of your bad judgment! Do you hear me, mothers? Do you women hear me? You have a responsibility to make a home for your child. Something must be done. Someone must stand up and rid this world of unfit mothers! This torture can not be allowed to go on.

"
Today you will see the consequence of your evil deeds. Today you will see the hopelessness of an unwanted child. Watch and remember what pain your weakness has birthed into this world."