Alone in the Dark (46 page)

She smiled at him, a smile so genuine that it nearly knocked him speechless. ‘Good enough,’ was all she said, and he realized she’d been testing him.

‘Did I pass?’ he asked dryly.

‘With flying colors. For now.’ Her smile disappeared like it had never existed. ‘Now let’s talk about how this case will be covered in your paper. I’d like to keep a few facts back.’

Marcus pulled his phone from his pocket and opened a new file, willing to negotiate. ‘Like what?’

Cincinnati, Ohio
Tuesday 4 August, 6.30
P.M.

Scarlett slipped into the now empty observation room to use the phone, hoping she hadn’t made a bad decision in leaving Lynda alone with Marcus. Her boss had been off balance since early that morning. Lynda was normally brusque, but not rude. Scarlett wanted to give her an opportunity to talk to Marcus one-on-one, hoping that would bring her around.

Partly for Lynda, partly for Marcus.
But mostly for me
, she thought. There was no telling how long this case would drag on, and she didn’t want to keep him a dirty secret. The better Lynda regarded him, the easier doing her job would be.

She watched them for a moment through the glass until she was fairly certain no blood would be shed. Then she picked up the phone and dialed a number firmly engraved into her memory.

‘St Ambrose parish, this is Father Trace.’

The sound of her uncle’s voice made her heart ache. She hadn’t treated him well at all, and had missed him more than she wanted to say. He’d been her favorite uncle. He’d been her confidant – until Michelle’s death had stripped the veil from her eyes and she’d seen the truth about prayer. And God. Unfortunately, her uncle had been a constant reminder of that pain, so she’d begun avoiding him. A month had led to a year, then two, then five, and now ten.

‘Hello?’ he pressed. ‘Is anyone there?’

Scarlett cleared her throat. ‘Uncle Trace, this is Scarlett.’

A beat of silence. ‘I know it is, honey,’ he finally said warily. ‘I’d know your voice anywhere.’

She deserved his wariness. ‘It’s been a while. I thought maybe you’d forgotten.’

‘Well that’s just ridiculous. Just because you haven’t spoken more than hello, goodbye and Merry Christmas to me in ten years? You really think I could ever forget your voice? Besides, my caller ID said Cincinnati PD. It’s not your father or any of your brothers, unless they’ve undergone a serious hormonal change, so by process of elimination, it had to be you.’

She laughed unsteadily. ‘How are you?’

‘The same as the last time you saw and ignored me at Colin’s christening,’ he said tartly, making her wince. Then his voice softened. ‘Why are you calling, Scarlett?’

‘I . . . I need your help. I have two women who went missing earlier today. We believe they’re victims of human trafficking, so we don’t want to put their faces on the news.’

‘You’ll drive them underground,’ he said.

‘Exactly. It’s a woman and her teenage daughter. The woman’s older daughter was murdered this morning in an alley downtown.’

‘I read about it. What can I do to help you?’

His voice was as much like a warm blanket as it had been when she was a child. ‘The mother carried a rosary and the murdered daughter was wearing a crucifix. I thought if a priest came looking for them, they wouldn’t run away. My lieutenant suggested having a cop pose as a priest, but—’

‘They wouldn’t trust you once they found out,’ he interrupted.

‘That’s what I told her. That’s why I’m asking you.’

‘Where should I meet you?’

‘At the main station.’

‘All right.’ There was a long, long pause. ‘I’ve missed you, Scarlett.’

Her heart cracked, but she couldn’t give him false hope. ‘This isn’t a return to the fold.’

‘That’s all right, for now. I’ve missed
you
. I’ve waited a long time for you to talk to me again. I’ll take a conversation with you however I can get it.’

She let out a breath. ‘You still got it, you know that?’

‘What, the ability to make you feel guilty even when I’m being nice?’

Her laugh was shaky. ‘Yes.’

‘Thank you. You’ve ignored me for ten years,’ he said mildly. ‘My feelings are hurt. You can take a little guilt.’

‘I suppose that’s fair. If you could be here five minutes ago, that would be great.’

‘If I’m caught speeding, will you make my ticket go away?’

She rolled her eyes. ‘How about you get here as soon as legally possible?’

‘I think that would be best. How will you go about locating these women?’

She hadn’t thought about that yet. Her mind sifted through the possibilities now. ‘How are you with dogs?’

‘Allergic, just like always. Why?’

‘I’d like to pair you up with one of the search-and-rescue handlers. Their dogs can track the women from the house where they were living before they disappeared. They didn’t have transportation that we know of. They’ve had several hours’ head start, but if they’re still on foot, they can’t be that far. Put on your walking shoes. You might be hiking. You might want to take some allergy pills.’

He sighed. ‘I take it you want me in a cassock, even though it’s seven million degrees outside.’

Her lips twitched. ‘Yes please. Look as Catholic as possible.’

‘As Catholic as possible, huh? Okay. I haven’t worn that cassock in years. I’m not even sure I know where it is, but I’ll do my best. I’ll see you soon.’

‘Actually, give me an hour. I have to get the handlers in position with their dogs.’ And she still had to fit the meeting with Deacon and his human trafficking expert in between.

She hung up and stared at the phone in her hand. Somehow this day had developed a life of its own. Saying goodbye to Bryan and hello to Marcus, and now this reunion with Uncle Trace.

She fired off a text to her search-and-rescue contact, grateful when the woman texted right back.
Give me an hour
.
Romeo and I will be there. Will see if I can get another few pairs to help the search.

She then dialed Deacon’s cell phone, frowning when Faith picked up. ‘Scarlett? Deacon’s a little b-busy right now.
Ohhh
.’ Her moan practically vibrated through the phone. ‘Um, yeah, Scarlett. What do you need?’ She sounded suspiciously out of breath.

Scarlett rolled her eyes, able to visualize the scenario all too well. Those two were so lovey-dovey it made her want to gag.

‘You’ve
got
to be kidding me.
Really?
You couldn’t have waited until tonight? Good God Almighty.’

In the background she heard Deacon’s muffled voice. ‘Tell her I’ll call her back.’

Faith blew out a few short breaths like she was in a Lamaze class. ‘Give us a minute. He’ll call you right baaa . . . Um, yeah. Right back.’

‘Not on my cell. I’m in Interview Room One. No recept—’

Deacon came on the line. ‘I will
call
you
back
,’ he growled.

The line went dead, and Scarlett turned to face the observation window with an impatient sigh. ‘Good God,’ she muttered, then went still as she laid eyes on Marcus. He was leaning forward slightly, talking to Lynda, his expression serious and focused. Lynda no longer wore as angry an expression, so she must have patched things up. Her boss looked at the phone on the table between them and pointed to something with a raised eyebrow.

Marcus typed something, then looked up at Lynda who gave him a nod of approval and said something that spread a slow smile over Marcus’s face.

Scarlett’s heart did a roll in her chest. ‘Oh my,’ she whispered. He was simply beautiful. And she wanted him. Wanted to be the one to put that slow smile on his face.

He flicked his finger over his phone, scrolling down, and Lynda frowned, saying something that made the smile on his face morph into a frown.

The landline rang and Scarlett answered it, not taking her eyes off the man on the other side of the glass as he and Lynda continued to negotiate whatever it was he was typing.

‘Bishop,’ Scarlett said.

‘It’s Faith.’ She was whispering. ‘I know you need to speak to Deacon, but he’s in the shower.’

‘I seriously do not need any more information,’ Scarlett protested, but with considerably less heat than before. Just watching Marcus O’Bannion made her go all soft inside.

‘Yeah, I think you do,’ Faith murmured. ‘Just listen. I don’t have much time. That notification he just did?’

The warmth in Scarlett’s chest abruptly chilled. How had she forgotten that so quickly? ‘Agent Spangler. What happened?’

‘It didn’t go well. The wife was angry. She attacked Deacon. Scratched his face badly.’

Scarlett lowered herself into a chair. ‘She scratched him? Why? Why didn’t he stop her?’

‘I think he was too stunned at first.’

‘And probably numb,’ Scarlett said quietly, putting herself in her partner’s place. ‘And knowing Deacon, he probably thought on some level that he deserved it.’

Faith sighed. ‘I knew you’d understand.’

‘Where the hell was SAC Zimmerman?’

‘Zimmerman wasn’t free, so Deacon went alone.’

The idiot.
For a smart man, Deacon could do some seriously stupid things. ‘Goddammit, Faith. Why didn’t he call me or Lynda? Either of us would have gone with him.’

‘I suspect he wishes he had, but doing notifications with Lynda always makes him edgy.’

‘She’s not the softest bun in the box,’ Scarlett agreed.

‘Very true. He wanted to call you, but he knew you were looking for some church lady.’

‘Annabelle Church. We found her. Is Deacon okay?’

‘Physically, yes. Emotionally, no. He’s done a lot of notifications to victims’ families, but this is the first time he’s notified the family of a fellow agent. I was working at home when he got here to change his clothes and clean up—’

‘Wait,’ Scarlett interrupted. ‘Why did he change his clothes?’

‘He didn’t want to hurt her by restraining her, and she did some damage to his shirt. Ripped it, yanked all the buttons off. She would have dug her nails into his chest if he hadn’t been wearing a vest under the shirt.’

Thank God for Kevlar
, Scarlett thought, looking at Marcus’s bullet-free back. ‘It sounds like Spangler’s wife was a little unstable before Deacon got there.’

‘Possibly. He called her pastor and waited until the man got there. Anyway, I was here when he got home and he was in bad shape. I . . .’

‘You tended him,’ Scarlett said quietly. ‘I get it.’

‘He wouldn’t want you to know how hard this hit him,’ she whispered.

‘I get that too. I won’t let on I know, although I’ll have to tease him a little bit about the interrupted afternoon delight. He’d be suspicious if I didn’t.’

Faith’s chuckle was a little forced. ‘Thanks. He said he’d meet you at the field office, that you have some kind of meeting.’

‘We do. I was calling to tell him that we have to make the meeting a fast one because we’ve had some new developments. I won’t be able to wait long if he’s late getting there.’

‘I’ll tell him. Thank you. Oh, and Scarlett? Tell my cousin hi,’ she added slyly, drawing out the ‘hi’ to sound teasingly sultry. ‘He’s quite a looker, isn’t he? If I hadn’t found Deacon first, I’d totally be hitting on him. I want details.
All
the details, you understand?’

Scarlett’s cheeks heated. ‘Good
bye
, Faith.’

She hung up on Faith’s wicked laugh and went back into the interview room, where Lynda was glaring at Marcus incredulously. Marcus’s eyes were narrowed in challenge.

Scarlett frowned at them both. ‘What the hell, people? When I left the observation room, you were working well together. Ten seconds later, you’re giving each other the evil eye again. What happened?’

‘He was being reasonable,’ Lynda said, ‘and then all of the sudden he goes literally insane. He wants to be embedded in your investigation. Like in that ridiculous TV show where the writer tags along with the homicide detective.’

Scarlett bit back a grin. ‘You mean
Castle
? I like that show. It’s cute.’

‘This is a homicide investigation,’ Lynda said harshly. ‘We are not
cute
, Detective.’

‘Nor am I a writer of
fiction
,’ Marcus said, holding back the temper that flickered in his eyes. ‘I’m a journalist and this is a story that needs to be told. How many people out there believe like Annabelle Church, that human trafficking happens only in Thailand? And didn’t I do everything you just asked with the story about finding Tabby Anders?’

‘Mostly, yes,’ Isenberg agreed. ‘But that’s because I asked you about it directly. You didn’t offer anything, O’Bannion, and I’ve been burned by reporters in the past. You’ll give me what I want now, but then later you’ll pull a fast one and print whatever satisfies your agenda. And that’s how cops and victims die.’