Obsession (8 page)

“Yeah,” Jess agreed. “Makes life a lot easier for drug dealers and terrorists.” She studied the note he’d given her.
Tim
. Her brow furrowed, no doubt making permanent wrinkles. Had she seen that name in the list of associates? She didn’t think so.

“I can’t thank you enough, Mr. Vernon.” She was backing toward the door as she spoke. The list of questions she needed to ask anyone who might have been close to Reanne—discounting her mother—stacked deeper and deeper.

He flaunted another of those cute smiles. “Any time, Agent Harris.”

Burnett was still on his cell. Jess paced the corridor as he had done. She was aware that he and Patterson still argued about something but she didn’t care about that right now. Reanne Parsons had a boyfriend. Tim. On the day she went missing they discussed meeting face to face, which might mean they had not met in person before.

Trepidation mingled into the anticipation twisting in her chest. This discovery set Reanne apart from the others. Patterson wouldn’t like where that steered this investigation in terms of her disappearance. It punched a massive hole in what Burnett, Patterson and Griggs believed had happened in this case.

Jess needed to talk to Reanne’s associates at work. She didn’t have any real friends, according to her mother. But people talked at work. Jess was banking on human nature. It rarely failed her.

“There won’t be an autopsy.”

That was the problem with investigators. They sometimes failed to see what their minds wanted to overlook. Patterson knew these people. In his brain, an opinion already existed, which caused him to skip past certain possibilities.

“Jess, did you hear what I said?”

She didn’t realize Burnett was talking to her until he said her name. “What?” She shook her head, replayed the words he’d said. “No autopsy? Why not?” Wasn’t an autopsy SOP in an unaccompanied death of possible suspicious origin?

“The coroner’s preliminary call is that the death was a suicide and the wife doesn’t want an autopsy. Patterson won’t push for it and that is his jurisdiction.”

Well hell. “Can we at least get toxicology? Find out if he was on any undisclosed medications?”

“SOP. We’ll have that in a couple of days with the rush Koerber is putting on getting this done.”

“Good.” Jess held up the number Vernon had given her. “Reanne had a boyfriend or boyfriend candidate. The day she went missing she exchanged text messages with a Tim.” Jess briefed him on the details.

“Harper can track down the name assigned to the number. See if it leads anywhere.” Burnett sent his detective a text that included the number. “Now.” He slid his phone into the holster he wore on his belt. “We are going to get some sleep.”

Was he out of his mind? “I don’t want to sleep! This changes everything. I want to talk to her coworkers.
Now
.”

“Jess, it’s four in the morning. People are still in bed. We should be in bed.”

The last prompted a shiver. Jess was too tired to deal with her less intellectual side. Or maybe she was hung up on all the beautiful women who appeared to be a part of his life. Wells, his ex, the reporter who was so hot—his word. Maybe she did need sleep. One way or another she had to recoup her perspective.

“We won’t be any good to anybody if we don’t get some sleep.”

She held up her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’ll sleep at your office.” Surely there was a shower somewhere in the building. There hadn’t been time for one before the prayer service. A quick change of clothes had made them late as it was.

“No you will not.” He grabbed her by the shoulders and pointed her toward the exit. “You’ll sleep at my parents’ house and I’ll pick you up at eight-thirty.”

“Eight-thirty?” She whirled on him. “Our task force meeting is at seven.”

He was ushering her toward the exit again. She was too exhausted to put up a proper fight, verbal or otherwise. “Patterson and I rescheduled to nine considering we’ve been up all night. Now let’s go before I call him back and change it to ten.”

“Fine.”

“Fine,” he echoed.

She loaded into the passenger seat of his shiny Mercedes and buckled her seatbelt. There was too much to do to sleep. But she needed the whole team, including herself, sharp and ready if the job was going to get done right. Doing it alone was always a mistake. Something else she’d learned the hard way. Besides, the only thing sharp about her right now was the pain in her feet from these damned shoes.

She almost drifted off as Dan drove across town. The city was asleep as he rolled through the quiet streets. The downtown lights reminded her of all the times they’d ridden through here in the middle of the night as crazy teenagers. He’d had that old convertible Thunderbird. She’d loved the feel of the wind in her hair and his arm around her. She’d been completely stupid. Sitting huddled up next to him, no seatbelts. It was a miracle they survived.

She stole a glance at the man behind the wheel, all the way on the other side of the console. He didn’t drive that old T-Bird now. He drove a Mercedes. Wore his seatbelt and had the most prestigious cop job in the city. And lots of gorgeous lady friends.

What would he think when he learned the truth about her?

Jessie Harris. Almost former FBI. Former wife.

Nobody.

This case was all she had at the moment. She could not fail. Those girls were counting on her.

For the first time in a very long time, Jess was counting on herself, alone, without the shroud of the Bureau and the career that had defined her for most of her adult life.

Chapter Six

7:00 a.m.

Metal rattled against metal.

Andrea jerked awake.

Opening wide, the door’s hinges groaned. A dim light filtered into the room, but not enough to see more than the outline of the dumpy figure that entered. It was the woman. The man was taller and thinner.

Her heart pounding, Andrea drew her knees to her chest and told herself over and over not to cry out…not to move. If the woman realized Andrea had managed to spit out most of the pill she’d forced her to take last night at feeding time she might punish her.

A click split the silence and a flashlight’s blinding beam swept over the room. Andrea squeezed her eyes shut and tried to stop shaking. The other girls didn’t make a sound. Zombies.

The one named Macy couldn’t explain what they had done to her when she’d been brought back last night. Tests, she had said. Andrea had shaken her hard and tried to snap her out of the drug haze but it hadn’t worked. She was too far gone. Andrea didn’t want to turn into a zombie like that. But she had to pretend or
they
would know.

The light landed on her face.

Don’t flinch. Relax
. Pretend to be asleep.

The smell of hot oatmeal invaded her nose.

Morning
. The light moved on to the next bunk. Another day had passed. A sob swelled in her throat. Andrea struggled to hold it back. How long had she been here? Why didn’t someone come to rescue them? Where were her parents? The police?

“Which one?” he growled. 

The man had come in too but Andrea didn’t dare open her eyes to look.

“That one.”

The harsh command made Andrea jerk. At first she thought the woman meant her. But the squeak of rusty springs came from beneath her. They were taking the girl named Reanne. Andrea’s lips trembled. What would they do to her? Macy seemed okay. She’d come back clean, like they’d given her a bath, but totally zoned out.

Reanne moaned. 

“Get up!” the man snapped.

Andrea cracked her eyes open just far enough to see. The back glow from the flashlight allowed her to see the man as he dragged Reanne to her feet. He looked old like the woman, just taller and skinnier. Older than Andrea’s mom and dad. Older than Dan. But not much older. She pressed her lips together to hold back the fear. Her body trembled violently. These crazy people didn’t try to hide their faces. Did that mean they intended to keep them forever?

Or…when they were done, would they kill them?

“Time for your next test, Reanne,” the woman said. She clutched Reanne’s chin and shook her face. Reanne’s eyes opened, rolled drunkenly beneath the cruel glare of the light shining in her face. “If you fail, you’ll be in trouble. You don’t want to be in trouble, do you?”

Reanne whimpered, fell against the tall man.

Part of Andrea wanted to jump out of the bed and fight them. But there were two of them and the other girls were in no shape to fight. Maybe they wouldn’t hurt Reanne. Macy came back okay.

“This one was a mistake,” the man said. “She’s not like the others.”

“I like her,” the woman argued. She turned off the flashlight. “He’ll like her, too. You know he doesn’t take after you.”

Andrea blinked, tried to adjust her eyes to the sudden darkness. Who were they talking about? Who would like Reanne? The idea that they might have been brought here for sex wailed through Andrea, reverberating in her brain like a shriek. She closed her eyes tight. Tried to stop the thought. No! No! No!

“What about that tattoo?” The man snorted. “I won’t stand for that.”

The drag of Reanne’s feet and the soft clomp of the mean people’s footfalls against the dirt floor warned that they were leaving, taking Reanne the same way that had Macy.

As much as Andrea wished they would leave Reanne alone, she was glad they were going.

“I can fix that tattoo,” the woman said. “You’ll see. She’s a good girl.”

The door slammed, the key twisted in the lock.

Andrea didn’t move until the thump of footsteps on the stairs had faded. She jumped off the top bunk. The plastic bowl of oatmeal tumbled to the dirt floor. She didn’t care. They could be putting anything in the food. Since they didn’t force a pill into her mouth this morning like usual, she’d bet anything the drug was in the oatmeal. She’d eat more dirt before she’d touch anything else from those creeps.

Water. She needed water. Andrea felt her way to the corner, braced for running into another rat. She’d heard them scurrying around during the night. She shivered, felt for the plastic and grabbed a bottle of water. She gulped down half of it, fought the urge to puke, then downed some more. She needed a clear head. No matter how hard she’d tried, some of the pill had dissolved in her mouth before she had a chance to spit it out last night and bury it.

She moved around the room. Desperation made her want to scream. There had to be a way out of here! Andrea wanted to wake the other girls and make them help her but it wouldn’t do any good. They were too doped up.

Think, Andrea! There had to be a way out of this hell hole. She felt around the walls again, even though she’d done it bunches of times already. Brick and wood. The door was cool like steel. She hesitated at the door. The floor was dirt.

The rats…they got in and out somehow.

If the floor was dirt in here it probably was on the other side of the wood wall. She hadn’t felt any holes in the wall. They had to be digging tunnels in the ground.

Andrea dropped to her knees. The floor was packed down like it was old. She felt around the door, moving toward the corner. Anticipation burst in her chest. A hole…not very big, but it was a hole. She held her breath and started to dig, using that small hole for leverage. She had to scratch and pull at it to loosen up even a handful of dirt beyond that little tunnel. But she could do it. If she dug close to the wall next to the door on the side with the hinges, maybe they wouldn’t notice. When the door opened it would probably hide the bigger hole she made.

She scratched with all her strength. Had to get out of here. She would not die in this dark, stinking place. Never surrender, that was what Dan told her. She had to be smart and strong.

A scream ripped through the silence.

Andrea’s head shot back, her gaze focused on the ceiling. More screaming. Andrea’s body shook with terror. They were doing something bad to Reanne.

No. No. No!

Andrea had to hurry. If they didn’t get out of here soon, they would all die. No one escaped alive from people like this. Especially after seeing their faces.

She tried to block the awful screaming. Just dig. Dig faster. Harder. If the rats were anywhere around, they stayed out of her way.

The other two girls, Macy and Callie, started crying. They were awake. Maybe they had been all this time but, like Andrea, were afraid to move.

Dammit! She needed something to dig with. The stupid plastic bowls and bottles wouldn’t work. The evil people didn’t leave spoons or forks. When Andrea ate she had to do it with her hands. 

She sat back on her heels. There had to be something she could use. Crawling around the room, she searched the floor with her hands. She slid under the bottom bunks. Nothing.

Desperation and defeat crushed her.

She collapsed, her legs crossed, her head in her hands and cried. The sobs rocked her body, echoed in the room. The sobs of the other girls multiplied, reaching a terrifying crescendo along with hers.

They were all going to die
.

“No.” Andrea swiped her eyes and nose, the dirt from her fingers smearing on her face. Anger swelled inside her. She would not die here. They needed help, but help might not find them in time.

The screaming above stopped as suddenly as it had started.

Was Reanne dead?

Had she failed the test?

Andrea wasn’t going to fail their damned test. She was getting out of here.

She struggled to her feet and went to where the others still cowered in bed. She grabbed Macy and shook. “Get up,” she muttered. “I need your help.”

Macy just kept sobbing.

“Get up,” Andrea said a little louder. She dragged Macy off the top bunk. She crumpled to the floor. “You have to help me. We gotta get out of here.” She helped Macy to her feet, then reached for Callie.

When she tried to stand, Callie’s knees gave out. Andrea steadied her. “Come on. I’ll show you what to do.”

One by one, she led the girls to the spot next to the door. She got down on her knees between them. “We’ll dig our way out, but I can’t do it alone.”