Grace (15 page)

"Where are you going? You're not going alone, are you?"

"No. I'll call you tomorrow, don't worry,” she lied.

"How can I not worry about you? I love you."

"I love you, too. Bye.” Grace hung up.

Her mind went over one event to the next with everything mixed up. She attempted to ignore the thoughts, the visions, as her cell phone rang. Reluctantly, she answered it.

"Hello."

"Grace?"

"Yes."

"It's Ed. I have that location for you and the file, as well."

Grace had forgotten all about asking Ed for a copy of Jessy's file. She wanted to visit the crime scene, get a feel for both the victim and the killer. What bad timing.

"Grace? Is everything all right? I heard about what happened.” Ed interrupted her thoughts.

"I'm here, Ed, everything is fine. Where do you want to meet?"

Grace made the arrangements, then hung up to quickly dry her hair. If Felix, Max, or the others knew she was going to visit the crime scene, she would have an entourage with her. No. She needed to be alone to get a feel for the perpetrator and his actions. She willed herself to focus on the investigation and not allow her own tragedy in life to take over her every thought.

An hour later, she had the file in hand as she sat all alone in her jeep outside the tunnel where Jessy had been found. Grace read over the information. The pictures were heart wrenching to say the least. How could someone starve another human being to death like this? How could they take a precious life so easily and without remorse? She shook her head as her body began to shake and her eyes filled with tears.

Grace had investigated hundreds of homicides in her career as a detective, but for some reason, this one hit close to home.

Once again, she somehow found the strength to get out of her car. She looked around. No one was in sight. There were woods ahead and then the tunnel. She left her gun unclipped on her hip.

So she could see inside the tunnel, Grace took along a flashlight. She attempted to convince herself she was doing this for Celina and she wasn't afraid of the dark or claustrophobic anymore.

As soon as she came to the tunnel, her body had a totally different reaction.

The wind blew the cold air right through her winter coat. She entered the tunnel knowing Jessy had lain twenty feet ahead and was left to die.

The pictures from the crime scene flashed through her mind as Grace now took baby steps. The echo of the wind stung her ears as it entered through the opening of the cave. She tried to keep calm and talk herself into remaining professional.

Jessy must have been so scared. She probably heard the wind right outside the cave door and yet there was no way she could escape her restraints.

To know that freedom stood only footsteps away must have been torture in itself. Grace empathized with that, knowing she had experienced such trauma herself.

Again Grace thought about Tommy and Max's descriptions of the crime scene. The details about the large boulder, the fingernail indentations in the dirt, evidence of Jessy's attempt to free herself and the description of her emaciated body.

Grace closed her eyes. Her heart raced. Her mind attempted to bring back memories of her own ordeal as a young child, but they were foggy. She fought to keep them that way. She made it to the location and squatted down as she looked at the file and illuminated the area with her flashlight.

A few feet ahead of her, the large boulder lay snug against the wall. Her body wasted, shriveled, and nothing but skin and bones. Her eye sockets sunk in her head. Her lips colorless. Grace could still see the scratch marks in the dirt along with the footprints from the detectives and forensic technicians.

The victim's fingernails were gone, shredded, bloody and torn.

"My God, Jessy, you fought so hard, right to the end,” Grace whispered.

She closed her eyes, pulling together the facts found by the homicide detectives and the evidence on Jessy's body.

"Who are you? Who is the Master? So coy, so confident and strong.” She envisioned the man at the club, then the murderer from Mary's shop.

Were they the same person? She wasn't a hundred percent sure of it. The same build, maybe the same cologne. She wasn't sure about the eyes because she never saw her attacker's eyes.

She was trying too hard to remember, to connect the events, all while pushing aside her personal nightmares. Her captor, her parents’ killer, was found and killed while trying to evade capture. Why shouldn't she want to provide that same relief and closure to Jessy, to Mary and their families?

"I'm going to bring you justice, Jessy. I promise you.” She looked around the tunnel again.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, causing the goosebumps to travel down her back.

In a flash, she was nine years old again, locked inside the small loading compartment. It was way too small for her to stretch out her legs. She couldn't even kneel inside of it. Her wrists hurt, and her white nightgown was torn and dirty.

Grace rubbed her wrists, then her arms. The visions were real, the wounds still raw.

Her tomb wasn't that different than Jessy's. They were both trapped, helpless, scared. She was certain Jessy had prayed first for life then for death just as she had. All those promises of never being naughty again, doing chores without complaining, anything and everything if God would just let her live, guide someone to find her and to just survive. Then praying for death, to join her parents and be a family in heaven.

There had been small holes drilled into the side of the metal container, but they only provided a small amount of air, no light.

Grace remembered the stuffiness, the inability to breathe out, her body weak and strained.

She fell against the dirt wall, instantly feeling the constricted space, her desperate need to escape, to stretch, to have more than enough room. Her dress pants were dirty as well as her coat. Finally, she managed to push herself up and grabbed the flashlight.

The memories, the visions continued. Her parents’ killer wanted her to suffer. Sick and twisted, he had killed her parents in cold blood, then been charged with murdering four other people including a witness, his own fiancée. Why did he want her, a child, to suffer so badly?

She remembered asking herself the question, praying Uncle Nick would find her and that her parents weren't really dead.

He made a mistake though and one that cost him his life. He tried to get ransom money from Aunt Delores, Uncle Ted, Nicholas, and Leeann.

After the payoff, the police pretended to lose him in traffic, but Uncle Nick was on his tail.

The killer went to the shipping dock. It was late in the evening, and there was no one around. Planning on killing her as soon as he opened the door to her tomb, he got the shock of his life when Uncle Nick snuck up behind him along with some uniformed officers and other detectives. Her captor, Blade, jumped down off the lift and began running and shooting his weapon. Uncle Nick and the others fired back, instantly killing him.

Crunched up in a ball in the corner, she remembered trying to breathe in fresh air and freedom. Then Nick and the others appeared.

Her nightmares continued for years.

Blinking the tears from her eyes, Grace took in her surroundings and felt the confinement, the feelings of restraint and pure fear. Trying to take in too much air at once, she panicked as she turned to run toward the exit. She tripped and fell. The dirt wedged under her nails.

Daddy.... I want Mommy and Daddy.
Thoughts of herself as a child screaming and the man laughing ran rampant in her mind. Grace pushed the door open, instantly feeling the cold frigid air hit her face, freezing her tears.

"You're out. You're safe,” she whispered as she calmed her breathing and kept her hands on her knees, her head bent between them. She heard a sound and quickly pulled her firearm from the holster and pointed it.

Felix was standing in front of her.

Grace nearly screamed, then lost her breath and her balance. Felix grabbed hold of her arm.

"Whoa, Grace. Are you all right?” Felix held her steady, his lips inches from her forehead.

She thought she was still alone.

"What are you doing here? I nearly shot you.” She sounded breathless. She needed to calm down. Felix continued to hold her.

"Come on, Grace, I know you. I knew it wouldn't be long until you came to check out Jessy's crime scene for yourself. What are you doing out here all alone?"

He moved his gloved hand toward Grace's cheek and touched it gently.

Still dazed, Grace just stared at Felix.

"I'm fine, really. I just got a little claustrophobic, I guess.” She smiled nervously.

"Yeah, that can happen to the best of us. You banged your head pretty badly, that could have something to do with it. You sure you're all right? I can follow you back to your place. We can get a pizza or something.” Felix smiled, then rubbed Grace's arms as if trying to warm her up. Instead, the sensation gave her the chills and made her feel colder. Grace shivered.

"You're freezing, Grace, come on."

"No. I'm fine, Felix, really. I was finished up here anyway. Thanks."

"I'll follow you home.” He took her hand and eyed her ... differently. There was definitely something strange about the way Felix looked at her.

"Another time, maybe. I'm tired. I should get rest."

Felix showed his disappointment but walked Grace to her car. He was driving his own jeep, and she wondered how she could have missed the sound of its engine as he pulled up to the hill near the cave. After all, she wasn't that far inside the tunnel. Then she should have felt his presence as soon as she exited the cave and she didn't.

Was she losing her touch, her ability to sense danger, keep on her toes and be aware of everything going on around her, especially considering the possibility that she could be a target?

The tears streamed down her cheeks, and she tightly held the steering wheel as she watched Felix's lights disappear.

Grace planned on speaking with the Marquettes and not divulging too much information. She didn't want to be the one responsible for blowing the case.

She knew they were desperate for answers. A month had passed but with each new lead and every new connection, the events surrounding Celina's disappearance became more complicated.

No matter what, Grace would continue the investigation. As she started the car and began heading back home, she was determined to see the case to its conclusion. She would call Uncle Nicholas and let him know she was fine when she realized her cell phone had been turned off.

Quickly, she powered it up and was shocked at the number of voicemails. She placed the phone in the car mount and turned up the volume on the speaker.

Most of the calls, she could return later, but there were five from Max. He was angry at her, she could tell, but wanted to avoid him right now.

There hadn't been one person in her life other than her father who was able to affect her so deeply. All Max had to do was look at her at just the right moment and no words needed to be spoken. They understood one another, connected immediately and the thought frightened her.

She didn't want to believe she would ever need someone again. She didn't want to care too deeply or open her heart for the fear of suffering another heartache and loss. It was just easier this way.

She would have to avoid her attraction to Max, separate her present situation and the case from her past and focus on finding Celina. Max didn't want that. He wanted her safe.

However, she was a cop's daughter and being a homicide investigator was her vocation, her calling, and she was good at it. No matter what the future held, she wasn't giving up on getting the Master or putting an end to his so-called new business venture.

All of which, she knew, was more easily said than done.

As she entered her driveway, Grace closed the phone. She wasn't that surprised to find Max sitting in his car, obviously waiting for her. Her heart raced with anticipation of Max's questioning and interrogation tactics. She took a deep breath, then emerged from the car.

Quickly, Grace tried to brush off the dirt on her pants and jacket, but it was no use.

Max was already next to her car door.

"Where the hell have you been? I left messages for you."

He was angry and immediately she felt guilty.
Why the hell does he get to me so easily?

"I know that, Lieutenant, but I had things to do.” Grace's tone was arrogant while she attempted to walk past him and to her front door.

Not happy with her answer, Max grabbed her arm to stop her, but he used more force than he realized and they wound up in an embrace.

The air was frigid and he noted Grace's discolored lips.

Max took in the sight of her bruised face, now discolored and more yellow. With Grace wearing low-heeled boots, the tip of her nose was even with his neck. He was so worried about her when she didn't answer her phone or respond to his messages. Now she stood here in front of him with an attitude to boot.

Max continued to hold her close.

"Where were you?” he whispered.

"I had things to do."

"You should have called me, Grace. You need to be in constant contact with me for your own safety."

"I was fine."

"So you say. You look tired. Have you been sleeping?"

She turned away from him.

Max turned her toward her front door, being sure to keep his hand on her shoulders, and they went inside. He watched her hang up her jacket and kick off her boots. He noticed the dirt scatter around her feet.

"What happened?"

She attempted to play it off as no big deal. “I tripped."

"Where? In a dirt pile?” The sarcasm was obvious in his tone as he followed her into the kitchen.

"It's just dirt. It will come out.” She looked at Max as he stood in the middle of her kitchen just watching her. She quickly turned on the faucet and scrubbed her fingernails with soap. When she was finished drying her hands, she gazed at Max.