The First Victim (23 page)

Emily had died and gone to heaven. She knew this because she could smell pistachio muffins.

Opening her eyes, her theory was confirmed. A giant basket of nutty, green goodness sat in her line of sight.

She reached for them, and pain lanced through her shoulder and down her arm. She blinked, confused. She hadn’t thought that anything could hurt in heaven.

A hand moved the basket out of her reach. “Can’t have those until the doctor gives you the okay,” Laurie admonished.

Her beautiful sister’s face swam before her. Emily blinked at her. Did this mean she wasn’t dead?

“Sam sent those over for you.” Mark appeared on the other side of her. “He’s got a thing about hospitals, or else he would have brought them himself.”

It took a moment to focus on the two fuzzy faces hovering over her. Laurie looked worried. Mark looked tense. They stood on either side of her bed, their heads practically knocking together, peering down at her.

“Hey.” She wanted to reassure them that she was okay, but squeezing out that single, whispered syllable felt like an adhesive bandage being ripped off a scab. It hurt to talk. It hurt to swallow. It just hurt.

She remembered Billy crushing her throat, cutting off her air supply. He had done this to her.

“Don’t talk,” Laurie ordered. “Doctor Wyatt said not to for a few days. You’re going to be fine, but it’ll take a little time for the trauma your body’s suffered to heal.” She parroted the last phrase as though it were the glue that was holding her together.

Emily raised a hand and cupped Laurie’s cheek, wondering how long, if ever, it would take Laurie to heal from the injuries the doctors couldn’t see. Her eyes filled with tears, and she swallowed hard, which just magnified the pain in her throat.

Laurie looked across Emily to Mark. “You’ll…?” She trailed off.

Mark nodded.

“I’m going to go visit Anna. I’ll be back soon.” Laurie bent and pressed a kiss to Emily’s forehead, before whispering in her ear, “I love you, sis.”

She hurried out of the room, and Emily looked to Mark, searching for answers. He pulled a chair up to her bed, sat down and picked up her hand. Intertwining their fingers, he seemed to be struggling to find the words to say something difficult.

“Tell me,” she croaked out despite the stinging pain.

“Your sister’s right. The doctor did say you shouldn’t talk. I’ve got some bad news.”

She knew that from the expression on Laurie’s face. She needed to know exactly what was going on.

“You were stabbed. Twice. You lost a lot of blood. Gave everyone quite a scare.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. Doctor says that with a little rest and a lot of physical therapy you’ll be as good as new.” He sighed heavily. “Your father wasn’t so lucky. He didn’t make it through the night.”

Emily felt a twinge of guilt as she wondered whether the way she interrogated him had contributed to his death. She couldn’t lose sleep about that now, though. “Laurie?”

“She’s upset. Understandably, but she’s been more worried about you than anything else. She knows…about me. She took it pretty well.”

Emily smiled. Finally some good news.

“She told me what you did. How you lured Williams…William away, to save her and Anna. Pretty brave stuff.”

“Bailey?” She was barely able to get out the pained whisper.

A dark cloud passed over Mark’s face. “You should rest.”

She grabbed his hand before he could turn away. Wincing from the pain, she silently implored him to tell her.

“You know that it was his uncle and cousin…?”

She nodded.

“They killed his grandmother.”

She frowned. Poor Bailey. Even though he hadn’t been particularly fond of the old witch, she’d still been family.

“And Shauna,” Mark whispered.

Tears stung her eyes. Bay must be devastated. She knew what it was like to love a sister. He’d given up a career with the FBI for his. She’d been willing to die for hers.

“He saved me,” she croaked.

Mark smiled. “Of course he did.”

“If you’re not up to this, I can do it alone,” Chase Morgan offered.

He and Bailey were standing outside the room where Oliver O’Neil was handcuffed to a table.

“I appreciate the offer,” Bailey said. “But this is something I have to do.” He had to interrogate his uncle. He needed to get some answers to all the questions that had rolled around his head all night.

He’d waited until both Emily and Sebastian had come out of their respective surgeries. Both were expected to make full recoveries. Bailey wasn’t so sure about how their uncatalogued injuries would mend. Emily had yet again been subjected to a violent attack. Bailey was afraid it could have permanently scarred her psyche. Sebastian had been shot in the back, which wouldn’t be something his ego could just bounce back from.

Laurie and Anna had been terrorized too. No doubt their healing wouldn’t happen overnight.

So much pain and destruction had been caused by the man his DNA was linked to, sitting in the next room.

Bailey opened the door, his arm throbbing where Billy had stabbed him. He hoped he was strong enough to withstand whatever secrets he was going to unlock by talking to his uncle.

He didn’t look like a monster, sitting there at the table. He looked like a defeated excuse of a man. “Which one of you killed my boy?”

“I did.” Chase pulled out a chair and sat down opposite the suspect.

Bailey followed suit. It had been Sebastian who had insisted that his partner leave him at the Wright house and go after Bailey. If he hadn’t, and if Chase hadn’t been an expert marksman, the outcome of the struggle on the beach could have been much worse.

Sneering disdainfully, Oliver ran his gaze over Bailey. “Just like your old man, aren’t you? You put on that stupid uniform and think it makes you better than everyone else, but it don’t. It just keeps you from getting caught.”

“Getting caught?” Bailey asked. As long as his uncle was talking, he was content to allow him to control the direction of the conversation.

“No one ever figured out what he done to Shauna.”

Bailey’s whole body went cold at the mention of his sister.

“He’s the one who put her in that coma, ya know,” Oliver said.

“No,” Bailey said carefully. “She fell down the stairs.”

“Bullshit! Is that what he told you? That lying son of a bitch. I shoulda known—”

“Why don’t you tell us what happened?” Chase interrupted.

“He got all pissed off one day because of the way she was dressed, all slutty, and he hit her.” Oliver watched Bailey expectantly, waiting for him to react. “Smashed her head right into the wall.”

Like a prizefighter who’d trained for an event, the shocks of the past few days had conditioned Bailey. This emotional body blow hurt, but wasn’t the knockout punch his uncle had hoped for.

Oliver kept swinging. “Of course he couldn’t risk losing his career over something like that, so he tossed her body down the stairs, and claimed she fell.”

As much as he didn’t want to, Bailey believed every word the man sitting across from him was saying. His father had been constantly punishing his sister for the way she dressed, and he’d never hesitated to make his point to either of his children with a well-placed slap or punch.

Clearing his throat, Chase took control of the interrogation, offering Bailey a momentary respite. “Tell me about making the dolls.”

Oliver O’Neil puffed out his chest. “They were beautiful weren’t they?”

Chase nodded. “You obviously took a lot of pride in making them look just so. Tell me about it.”

“Real girls are nasty, dirty things, but those dolls…” Oliver trailed off dreamily.

Bailey struggled to swallow the bile that rose in his throat. How could his father have protected this monster?

“Did you take Emily Wright because you wanted to make her a doll?”

“I just wanted to play with her. That little bitch cut me!” Oliver held out his palm, displaying an age-whitened scar that slashed across his palm.

Bailey’s finger twitched. He had traced an almost identical mark on Emily’s hand.

“Your brother knew it was you who had taken her?” Chase asked.

“Not until after she escaped.”

A little bit of the unrelenting tension that wrapped around Bailey’s chest like a vise, loosened a little. One of his worst fears wasn’t true. His dad hadn’t left Emily to suffer at the hands of this monster.

“Stupid fool came crashing through the woods after me,” Oliver continued. “All ready to play hero, but he couldn’t.”

“Why not?” Chase asked.

“’Cuz I told him I’d tell the world about what he’d done to Shauna.”

Chase shot Bailey a look, silently asking him if he believed the man’s story.

Bailey nodded. Unfortunately he did.

Emily sank back into her hospital bed, exhausted. She’d had a nonstop stream of visitors all day. Laurie had hung around for hours. Even though Emily couldn’t do much more than nod or shake her head, Laurie had had a lot to talk about, not the least of which was her feelings about her newfound father. While Laurie had seemed angry with their mother for keeping the secret, mostly she seemed eager to get to know Mark and the rest of the Castles. Emily was relieved that while she’d had a lot thrown at her over the past couple of days, her little sister seemed to be handling it better than she’d expected. The kid was more resilient than Emily had given her credit for.

Returning after a few hours, Mark had convinced them that both sisters needed their rest. He had taken Laurie back to The Garden Gate with him to meet her half sister Ginny with the promise they’d return in the evening.

Even after they left, Emily hadn’t been alone. Anna and Evan Swann came by next. Emily’s heart had broken when she’d looked into Anna’s eyes and seen the hollowness that had taken the place of her usual spark. The girl had seen things no one should ever have to see. She’d survived an ordeal, the horror of which no one else could imagine. Still, she managed a crooked smile when she’d walked into Emily’s room, and introduced Evan as her father. Thankfully it was one of the things Laurie had told her sister, so her jaw didn’t drop open.

“It’s ironic,” Evan said. “The girl I rescued grew up to save my little girl.”

Emily felt worn out by the time Special Agent Chase Morgan stopped by. Thankfully his visit was short. He hadn’t asked any taxing questions. He stayed just long enough to explain what they’d been able to piece together, and to update her on Agent Black’s condition.

The only person who hadn’t been by to see her was Bailey.

She lay back on her bed, eyes closed. She focused on the smell of the flowers that filled the room and did her best to ignore the beeping of the monitors she was hooked up to. The pain medication she was on was making her sleepy, but she refused to drift off. She knew Bailey would show up eventually, and she wanted to be awake when he did.

She sensed, rather than heard him. Snapping her eyes open she caught him turning around.

“Bay?” Her throat was still raw, her voice raspy.

He turned around to face her, but stayed in the doorway. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. Nice flowers.” He waved his hand at the gigantic bouquet of carnations that dwarfed the vases everyone else had brought. She smiled. Ginny knew that carnations had always been her favorite. She’d included a note that said “Math was never my strongest subject. If you’re the half sister of my half sister that means we’re quarter sisters, right?”

“Ginny went a little bit overboard.”

“They’re pretty.” He lingered in the entry, seemingly unwilling to commit to entering.

She’d been waiting all day for his visit, but he didn’t seem very eager to see her. Trying to ignore the stab of disappointment she felt, she waved him into the room with her good arm.

Hands stuffed in his pockets, head hanging, he shuffled in. “I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me.”

She shook her head, trying to get rid of the fuzzies caused by the pharmaceuticals coursing through her system. He wasn’t making any sense. She’d been waiting all day to see him. “Come closer.”

Stepping nearer, he wrapped his fingers around the top of the bed rail. He looked down at her, his head bowed by the weight of grief and torment he now bore. She covered his hand with her own, trying to take away some of his pain.

“I’m so sorry, Em.”

“You saved me. I knew you would. I knew you’d come.”

He shook his head, unwilling to accept her gratitude, preferring instead to beat himself up. “I should have known. I should have figured it out.”

Now she knew what was wrong. He blamed himself, just as he had when they were ten. Back then, she’d stepped on a hornet’s nest as she tried to get away from him during a game of freeze tag. He must have apologized a hundred times for something that had been her mistake, and given her his ice cream for a week. If he’d been torn up about a couple of stings, she couldn’t imagine how he was torturing himself now.

“It wasn’t your fault, Bay. I’m the one who insisted on not telling the FBI that he had Laurie. I’m the one who adamantly insisted on talking to my father. I’m the one who made the idiotic choice to leave with Williams…William. It wasn’t your fault.”

“You could have died!” He tried to wrench his hand away, but she held on tight, despite the fact that the movement caused pain to radiate through her injured shoulder. He looked down at her pale fingers curled around his. His voice shook from his emotion. “There wasn’t enough time. I saw him…I saw the knife…and…and…And there was so much blood, and you were so weak…and I knew I’d lost you.”

“But you didn’t. I’m right here.”

She tugged his hand, forcing him to bend down closer.

“So what are you trying to say? That now that this whole thing is done, I don’t mean everything to you anymore?”

“You don’t understand.”

“Then explain it to me!” A terrible pressure built in her chest as she watched raw pain contort Bailey’s features. She’d been thinking everything was going to be better from here on, but if his expression were any indication, things were only going to get worse.

“My father knew who’d hurt you and he didn’t do anything about it.”

It felt like all the air in the room had been sucked out. She blinked up at him, trying to make sense of the revelation. If that was true, none of this had to have happened. The nightmare could have ended long ago. “He knew?”

Bailey hung his head as though he’d been the one keeping the horrible secret for all these years, as though he’d harbored the monster. “Shauna’s accident…it wasn’t an accident. My dad hit her and then threw her down the stairs to cover it up.”

“Oh, Bay.” She reached up and touched his cheek, not knowing what she could possibly say that could erase the pain etched into his face. “And then that day in the woods, when he found out it was his brother who’d taken you, he let him go, because Oliver threatened to spill what he knew about Shauna.”

“That bastard!”

Bailey flinched, but nodded. “I’m sorry, Em. I’m so sorry. For all of it.”

“But it wasn’t your fault.”

He nodded, but she could see that he didn’t believe her.

She had to get that through to him. She could see the way he was torturing himself. She could feel the way the sins of his family were eating away at him. Her throat burned, but she had to get through to him. “Listen to me, Bay. I know it’s a shock, and I know you’ve lost a lot, but you have to know, you have to understand, you haven’t lost me.”

“I never had you, Em,” he whispered. “We had one night, but you made it clear that’s all it was. And I understand. I really do. You’re going back to your life. There’s nothing here for you.”

Releasing his hand, she reached up and grabbed his chin, forcing him to look deep into her eyes. “You’re here. My sister’s here. My life is here.”

He stared at her as though he couldn’t believe what she was saying. “You can’t mean that. You’re upset. You shouldn’t be making any hasty decisions, certainly not life-changing ones.”

“Hasty? I’ve spent most of my life wanting to be with you, Bailey O’Neil. We’ll have to work the logistics out. I’ll still have to go to the city for client meetings and things like that, but for the most part I can probably do most of my work wherever I can plug in my laptop.”

“You’d do that for me?” The wonder in his voice was enough to break her heart.

“I’d do that for us. Now kiss me, you idiot.”

That, he didn’t need to be told twice. Taking care not to lean too heavily on her, he kissed her like it was their first time. Tentatively at first, testing, exploring. She deepened the kiss, showing him the truth behind her words.

Finally she fell back on the bed. Smiling up at him she said, “It’s good to be home.”