Knowledge is of no value unless you put it into practice.
—Anton Chekhov
21
Mom was right. There was something wrong with Katie. She was covered in something red and wet and slimy. Katie stood in the kitchen, dripping. A pool of red ooze was collecting under her.
But that wasn’t the weird part.
It was her eyes. They were locked on the far wall, the pupils pinpoints. She was trembling, her lips almost pure white. And she didn’t respond when I called her name, poked her arm, or shook her.
This isn’t depression.
It was time to get her to a hospital.
I tried pulling her toward the door. She didn’t budge.
I looked at Gabe. Gabe glanced down at his designer sweater and jeans, scooped the dripping, shaking Katie into his arms, and hauled her to my car. He drove—I was still a little groggy from those stupid pills. I tried to get Katie to say something.
She didn’t.
I soon found myself in familiar territory, in the hospital emergency room. I could tell some of the staff recognized me. They gave me a wide berth. Fortunately, it didn’t impact Katie’s care. She had a nurse and doctor at her bedside within minutes. The nurse checked her blood pressure and heart rate, while the doctor asked Gabe what had happened. I took care of the business end of things, giving Katie’s insurance information to the lady from registration.
Mom dashed in just as we were finishing up. “How is she?”
I shoved Katie’s insurance card and driver’s license into my purse. “We don’t know yet. They took her back to a room. Gabe went with her to answer questions. What happened?”
Mom shrugged. “One minute, I was alone, and the next, she was standing there, just like you found her.”
I motioned toward some nearby chairs in the waiting room. “My life has turned into an episode of Lost.” At Mom’s nod, I claimed a seat facing the registration desk. “It’s going from weird to weirder.”
Mom sat next to me. “I’m sure she’ll be okay.”
“She hasn’t been herself for a while. I’ve been a little worried about her. But things have been so crazy, I haven’t had any time to think about what it could be.”
“You’ve had a lot to deal with lately.”
I hugged my purse to my chest. “She either sleeps day and night, or wanders around, sleepless. And then there’s her room. She’s always been such a neat freak, and now it looks like a feature on Hoarders. She’s been super irritable too. I thought it might be depression. I didn’t do anything. I just left her alone and pretended nothing was wrong.” I dropped my face into my hands. “I feel like I’ve let her down.”
Mom wrapped an arm around my shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze. “You haven’t. You’re here now.”
“But maybe if I’d done something sooner, we wouldn’t be here now. It wouldn’t have gotten this bad.”
“Do what, Sloan?” Mom asked.
“I don’t know. Get her to see another doctor?”
“You can’t make someone do something they don’t want to do.”
“I know.”
Mom gave me another motherly squeeze. “You’ve had a rough few days. I think you need some rest.”
That statement only reminded me that I could have an unwelcome nocturnal visitor tonight. And now that JT had stormed off, I had no idea who, if anyone, would be keeping a watch out for it.
“Sleep is highly overrated.” I turned to Mom. “Anyway, we didn’t get to finish our conversation. About Dad? What makes you think he’s still alive?”
“This.” Mom dug into her purse and pulled out a daisy, dried between two sheets of acid-free paper.
“Mom ...” It was hardly proof that a man who’d been believed to be dead for decades was still alive.
“I know what you’re thinking. Daisies are everywhere. But here’s the thing. Your father and I met at a park, and I made him a daisy crown. I wore one in my hair on my wedding day.”
So far, I wasn’t seeing the significance. “Yes, and ... ?”
“Nobody knew this about us, but we made a promise to each other on our wedding night that we would always be together. Actually, your father made this promise to me. I thought it was strange at the time, but it was important to him, so I listened.”
Still, nothing. “Okay.”
“He said, if we were ever separated, by anything or anyone, he’d find a way to let me know he was okay. He’d send me ... a dried daisy.”
Now I got it. “You swear nobody else knew?” I asked.
“No one.”
“Okay.” I sat back and took stock of the situation. It was an odd coincidence. And there was a sense of believability to the story. And yet, I had my doubts. “Where did you find the flower?”
“On my nightstand. It wasn’t there when I went to bed.”
I inspected the flower closer. It was fragile. I couldn’t tell how long it had been preserved. “Did you save any of the flowers from your wedding?”
“Yes, of course, I did. I saved every single one from my bouquet. They’re safe and sound in my old copy of The Catcher in the Rye.
“Maybe you’d better check and see if one’s missing.”
“Do you suppose someone broke into my apartment, took one of my flowers out of the book, and put it on my nightstand? Why would anyone do such a thing?”
“I don’t know, Mom. But before you start believing Dad’s alive, it’s a good idea to double-check.”
She shrugged. “I guess you’re right.”
“You’ll tell me what you find?”
“You’ll be the first to know.” Mom stood. “If there’s nothing else I can do, I think I’d like to go home.”
“It’s okay. Go home. Get some rest. I’ll let you know when we get out of here.”
Mom and I exchanged a hug—which used to be very rare. I don’t know if it was the mental illness or something else, but Mom had never tolerated people touching her. It was a wonder she’d ever conceived a child. Lately that seemed to be changing.
Minutes after Mom left, Gabe ambled into the waiting room and flopped into a chair next to me.
“How’s Katie?” I asked.
“The red stuff was some kind of paint. Evidently, she bathed in it.”
“Bathed in paint? That’s not something a girl does on a regular basis.”
“Yeah. She couldn’t say why either.” Gabe snatched a copy of Good Housekeeping off the table next to him and started thumbing through the pages. “I left when the doctor came in, so I don’t know what’s going on. Before I came down here, though, I checked with the nurses’ station. The doctor ordered some tests. She’ll be here awhile, at least a few hours. Are you going to wait?”
“I don’t know. I guess I will.”
“I’ll stay with you.”
“That isn’t necessary.”
“It’s okay. I don’t mind.” He leaned closer. “Maybe now you can tell me what’s up with the DNA analysis?”
“Oh. Sure,” I whispered. I glanced around. A pair of elderly men sat huddled in one corner of the room. And a woman was cradling a small sleeping child in another. None of the people seemed interested in what we were talking about. “The sample contains insect DNA. They’re running further tests to try to identify which species. JT thought the unsub might—”
“JT knows about the sample?” Gabe said a little too loudly.
I stiffened and checked the men. They were still doing their own thing, but the woman was looking our way now. I held an index finger to my lips, warning him to keep his voice low. “JT was the one who found someone to run the test.”
A little muscle along Gabe’s jaw pulsed. “Did you tell him where you got the sample?”
“No. What’s your problem with him, anyway? I’ve never seen you treat anyone so harshly—except for me, of course.”
“I told you, I don’t trust him. I haven’t trusted him since I joined the PBAU. And I trust him even less now, after what he did to you. By the way, you don’t seem to be very upset about that.”
“I’m upset. Especially since what he told them isn’t true. We haven’t slept together. Hell, we haven’t even kissed.” Hardly kissed. “But I’m having a hard time believing he’s going around telling people lies. I don’t see him being that kind of guy, for one. And secondly, that would put his job in jeopardy too.”
Gabe didn’t look convinced. “You haven’t known him for long. Maybe you don’t know him at all.”
“True, but it’s obvious he cares about his job. I can tell that already.”
Gabe’s mouth thinned. “Whatever. Anyway, what do you think the test means?”
“I’m guessing the sample was tainted with insect DNA. Maybe the victim swatted a mosquito?”
“Yeah, maybe.” Gabe looked doubtful.
“You disagree?”
Gabe shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve been doing some reading, and ... you’re going to think I’m crazy... .”
I’m going to think you’re crazy? Gabe, did you know I was prescribed antipsychotic drugs for hallucinations?”
Gabe’s eyes widened. “What?”
“Yeah. The doctor decided I was hallucinating, diagnosed schizophrenia, and drugged me up.”
“No shit.” He gave me an appraising look, like he half expected to see something had changed since I’d been diagnosed. “I’d heard you were attacked, not that you’d had some kind of breakdown.”
“I was attacked. The problem is, when the doctor saw the video recording of the attack, there was no attacker.”
“Huh?”
“I’m not schizophrenic.”
“Yeah.”
“I was attacked by something ... unnatural. Something that isn’t captured with regular video-recording equipment.”
Gabe didn’t respond right away. “So the doctor saw you freaking out about something that wasn’t there?”
“Exactly.”
“Then it’s true,” Gabe whispered.
“What?”
“Monsters really do exist.”
“Are you making fun of me?”
“Hell no.” He was serious.
“I can’t say if ‘monsters’ exist, but I can tell you this. There are things out there that we don’t understand. Strange, dangerous things.”
“Maybe you should dig out your dad’s old papers?” Gabe suggested.
“Yeah, maybe I should.” I leaned back in my chair, stretching my legs out in front of me, and let my head rest against the wall.
Sometime later, Gabe nudged me awake. I opened my eyes to find I’d flopped over and was using his shoulder as a pillow. I apologized and straightened up, blinking bleary eyes to try to clear them.
“Katie’s being discharged. Are you ready to go?”
“Yeah.” I pushed to my feet and shuffled after Gabe, who was leading the way. Katie met us at the door. She still had red paint in her hair, and in her eyebrows. All around her fingernails were stained crimson. “How are you feeling?”
“No better. I told the doctors something is wrong with me, but they didn’t find anything.” She visibly sighed. “I feel like my brain is short-circuiting. My hands and feet are numb. And sometimes I have this awful itchy-crawly sensation under my skin.” A tear slipped from the corner of Katie’s eye. She dragged her hand across her face, smearing it. The slightest tint of red stained her cheek.
I was petrified for her.
Numbness. Itching. Now, those were physical symptoms. Vague and unspecific, but still physical. “We’ll take you to a doctor,” I promised. “We’ll find one that can figure it out. The numb sensation in your hands and feet ... I wonder about that.” I put my arm around Katie’s shoulder and walked her out to the car. Gabe drove us home and parked my car. After making sure we got into our building safely, he headed home.
Katie went straight to bed.
Now I was alone. I was scared. All I could think about was Mr. Stinky’s awful face. And that terrible voice. When I closed my eyes, I could almost hear him. A little scratch, the soft pad of footsteps, the creak of a door.
There was no way I was going to sleep tonight.
Recalling the conversation I’d had with Gabe, I snatched my keys and headed down to our building’s basement. Each apartment had a small storage locker down there. Somewhere, in the mountain of boxes I’d shoved into the six-by-six-by-seven space, was a small box with my dad’s notes and papers. I unlocked the metal gate and opened the locker. My eyes traveled up, up, and up the stack of tightly packed boxes. This was going to take a while. And I was tired. But it was better than going upstairs, falling asleep, and being woken by that ... thing.
I pulled the top box off the stack and dragged it out of the way. A quick inspection told me that wasn’t the box I needed, so I repeated the process with the next one, and the next, and the next. After intense labor, I had half of the contents of the locker crammed against the coin-operated washer and dryer, which nobody used. It took me more hours spent searching to find the right carton. Of course, it was one of the last ones, jammed into a small nook at the rear of the locker. I hastily rammed all the boxes back in place, locked the gate, and carted my find upstairs. I sat up into the early morning, reading and munching on nacho chips and cheese dip.
Just after daybreak, a knock on the front door interrupted my reading.
JT.
I stepped aside. “Hi.”
“I saw lights on. Did I wake you?” He took a look at me and grimaced. His gaze settled on the top of my head.
Out of instinct, my hand went to my head. My hair, I realized, was a mess. “It’s okay. I wasn’t sleeping.” I motioned toward the couch. “Have a seat. I was just about to make some coffee.”
JT didn’t move. He was staring at the couch.
“Sorry. I guess I got a little carried away with the research.” I rushed to the sofa and gathered up the papers and folders strewn all over. Dividing them into stacks, I set these on the floor.
“It’s okay.” JT caught my arm, coaxing me to stop what I was doing and turn toward him. “I won’t stay long. I just wanted to talk about what Gabe said yesterday.”
“Okay.” I pleaded silently, Please tell me it wasn’t true. I crossed my arms over my chest.
“I ... um ...” JT glanced down at his hands, and I got a sick feeling in my stomach.
“It’s true?” I asked.
“Not exactly.”
What did that mean? “Okay.”
“You know I wouldn’t do anything to risk your job, or your reputation.”
“I thought I knew that.” I took a little step back, suddenly feeling like he was standing too close. “But ... well ...”
“I made the mistake of trusting someone I shouldn’t have.”
Shit!
My heart started thumping so hard, I could hear each beat in my head. “First, why would you tell anyone anything at all? And second, why would you lie? We’re not sleeping together.”
“I wanted to arrange a surprise for you. And I needed this other person’s help.”
I shoved my fingers through my matted hair. “And now, thanks to this ‘other person,’ I’m viewed as the bureau’s ho.”
“No.” JT reached for me, but when I flinched, he dropped his arms to his sides. “Nobody sees you that way. Your friend is exaggerating.”
I wanted to believe JT—I really did. But why would I? Here I was, the new girl, allegedly already doing the nasty with one of her superiors. Even if people didn’t say it, they were thinking I was the office whore, trying to sleep my way up the ranks.
I guess that left me with two options.
I could leave the bureau, letting people believe what they wanted.
Or I could prove them wrong. And the first step in proving them wrong would be to solve our case.
Which would it be? Option A or B?
Option B, of course.
Now I didn’t just have something to prove to myself. But I had something to prove to a lot of people. And by God, I was going to do it, creepy monster stalker or not.
My decision made, I cleared my throat. “There are a lot of things about you I really like.” His butt, for one. And his dimples. And his smile. And the way he held me and made me feel safe. “But if I’m going to have any hope of getting past this and having a career in the FBI, I need to work hard and prove myself. I don’t need distractions or rumors or innuendo. I need a partner I can trust.”
“That, you will always have.”
I took another step back. “I’m sorry it has to be this way.” That was no lie. Looking at him now, I felt my heart ache a little. The truth was, those little moments we’d shared were some of the most thrilling I’d ever had, with any man. To think I’d never again see that naughty glimmer in his eye, or that slightly lopsided evil smile....
Making me feel even worse, I imagined him giving another woman that lopsided smile.
My heart hurt.
But at this stage in my life, my career was much more important. And so was his. This thing wasn’t doing him any favors either, I was guessing. If I had to remind myself of that from now until the day I retired from the bureau, then that was what I’d do.
I forced myself to lift my chin and stand a little straighter. “Now I think I’m going to get dressed and go for a jog. Is the team still set up over at the bank-owned house in Clarksville?”
“ No.”
“That’s okay. You can follow me from a distance. I wasn’t crazy about that stupid wire, anyway. You’re welcome to help yourself to some water. I’ll be out in a few.”
“Thanks.” JT headed for the kitchen.
I hurried to my room, wriggled myself into a sports bra, and threw on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Before heading out to the kitchen for some much-needed caffeine, I scraped my hair into a ponytail, brushed my teeth, and smeared some concealer over the huge purple circles under my eyes. It didn’t help much. I fluffed on a little blush and glossed up my lips in an attempt to look somewhat presentable. I carried a fresh pair of socks and my running shoes out to the kitchen.
JT handed me a full mug of coffee. I thanked him, trying to pretend I hadn’t felt a little something when our fingertips grazed as he handed me the cup. I dumped a lot of powdered creamer in the cup and guzzled it.
JT refilled mine and his. He picked a file off the counter. “I hope you don’t mind. I looked at this while you were dressing.”
“Oh. Um, no.” I dug in the cabinet for something to eat and scored a box of Pop-Tarts. I offered a package to him.
He ripped open the foil wrapper. “This is very interesting stuff.” He motioned toward the file, which he’d set back on the counter.
“It’s my father’s research. I’d never read any of it. But after what’s happened to me, I thought it was time to take a look.”
“Do you mind if I read a little too?”
“No. Not at all.”
“Thanks.” He headed to the living room, while I put on my shoes. He had gathered one stack of folders in his arms. “I’ll return these as soon as I get a chance to read through them.”
“Take your time. As you see, there’s plenty left for me to go through.” I motioned toward the door. “Ready to head out?”
“Yep.”
We met Mom out in the parking lot. Evidently, she was still on the job. She waved at us from her car. I went over and poked my head in the window.
“Hey, there,” I said. “We’re heading up to the Clarksville house. Are you hungry?”
“Maybe a little.”
“It’s not your favorite, but I supposed it’s better than nothing.” I handed her a package of S’Mores Pop-Tarts.
“Thanks, honey.” Wrinkling her nose, she ripped the wrapper and pulled one of the pastries out. “I had a feeling you’d go to work today.”
“Yeah, I can’t sit around.”
“You never could. Just like your father.” Mom filled her mouth with pastry and smiled. “Not bad. Not bad at all.”
“Okay, I’m going to head out now.”
Mom’s expression turned serious. “Be careful.”
“Will do.”
“Love you!” she called to me as I hurried toward my car.
JT met me in the middle of the parking lot. He insisted on driving, so we took his car. During the short drive, I skimmed some of the files he’d taken. He parked in the driveway; Mom parked farther down the street, where she’d be less conspicuous. He and I went into the house.
There was a dead mouse lying on the foyer floor. Probably the attack cat’s latest victim. JT took the stiff rodent to the garage, while I reluctantly investigated the rest of the house. No sign of a cat. No sign of any other visitors either.
“I’d love to find out where that beast is hiding,” I told JT when he came back in from the garage. He looked a little pale. “What’s wrong?”
“I called 911. Come here!” He turned around and ran back into the garage.
“Why? What is it?” Bracing myself for what had to be a gruesome sight, to make JT look so sickly, I followed. Inside the garage, the air was hot, and it smelled like gasoline and warm rubber. Sprawled on the concrete floor was a child. A little girl. I recognized the clothes. “Oh, my God! It’s Tutu Girl.” I rushed to her side and dropped to my knees. “Is she breathing?”
“Yes.” JT gently rolled her over. “And she has a steady pulse.”
“I know this little girl. She lives down the street. She’s the missing child Gabe’s team has been searching for.”
“Call the chief. And open the garage door. It’s hotter than hell in here.”
I shot to my feet and went in search of the button to start the automatic garage door opener. Moments later, the door lifted, and a cool breeze blew through the growing gap between the floor and the bottom of the door. Then I went in search of my purse, which I’d left in JT’s car. I called the chief’s cell phone. She answered on the second ring, and I told her what had happened. Meanwhile, Mom came jogging up to me and tried to tell me something, while I tried to give chief the rundown. As I shushed Mom and blurted out the few sketchy details I had for the chief, the ambulance rolled up in front of the house, lights flashing. I pointed the EMT toward the garage and ended the call with the chief, following him. A second EMT followed me, pulling a gurney. Mom hung back, down at the end of the driveway.
JT and I answered questions as the two men checked the little girl’s pulse, respiration, and heart rate. A marked police car rolled up as they were putting in an IV. The officer asked me questions, and I answered them, telling him where the little girl lived. He headed down to the house to see if anyone was home. Feeling helpless, I stood there and watched as the EMTs lifted the child onto the bed.
“Is she going to be okay?” I asked as they rolled her down the driveway, toward the waiting ambulance.
“Yeah, I think so. She’s dehydrated. Other than that, she looks okay.”
I sucked in a lungful of air. “Thank you.” I felt JT behind me. He didn’t touch me, but it was still reassuring having him there. I looked around for Mom, but I didn’t see her. Probably headed back to her car. I glanced down at my hands. They were shaking. My insides twisted into a knot.
I had no idea I could be so upset about seeing someone else’s child sick or hurt. Made me wonder if I could handle a case involving a kid, if my emotions would get to me.
“It’s never easy when it’s a kid,” JT said, as if he could read my mind. “They get to guys who’ve been on the job for decades.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
“The important thing is how you handle it. If you can keep doing the job, you’ll be okay.”
If I could keep doing the job.
“How about we head to the office and take a look at those files?” JT offered.
“No.” I mentally pulled up my bootstraps.
JT’s eyebrows rose. “No?”
I hitched up my chin. “I’m going for my run. And you’re going to follow me.”
“Are you sure? You look like you didn’t sleep at all last night and—”
“I didn’t. And you know why. But, like you said, I have to keep doing my job. If I do, I might save somebody’s life.”
“Okay.” He gave me a pat on the shoulder. “You’re tougher than you realize. I respect that about you.”
I tried to pretend I wasn’t blushing. I gave him a little push and started walking. “Ah, six miles is nothing.” I started at a walk, swinging my arms to get my heart pumping a little. My eyes bounced back and forth, from one side of the street to the other, one house to another, among houses and trees and parked cars. Everything looked normal. Ordinary. One vinyl-sided house after another. One manicured lawn after another. Nothing stood out as I jogged down the winding street, heading toward the wooded main road. Every now and then, I’d peer over my shoulder, catching a glimpse of JT’s car. He would drive a little, then park; drive, then park. I didn’t see Mom’s car following me. I wondered if she’d given up and gone home.
Falling into a comfortable pace, I jogged out of the subdivision, turning onto the main street. It was cooler there, the trees shading the road. My skin, now slick with sweat, prickled as goose bumps erupted over my arms and legs. It felt good. I inhaled deeply through my nose, enjoying the scent of trees and freshly mown grass. I rounded the bend, approaching the school on my left. There were no cars in the lot, no kids or buses. By the time I turned back into the subdivision, nearly completing the full circle, I had started to feel a little tired. I slowed my pace to a walk as I turned the final corner.
Mom’s car was still parked where it had been. I peered in the window as I walked past.
No Mom.
Where’d she go?
Mom, not again. Not now.