The Missing (21 page)
Authors: Shiloh Walker
Tags: #Contemporary, #Romantic Suspense, #Romance Suspense
Taige shrugged. “Long time ago. Had nothing to do with this beyond the fact that he suspected I could help. I haven’t seen him in years.”
“Are you familiar with his daughter?”
Rolling her eyes, Taige said, “Now didn’t I just say I hadn’t seen him in years? I didn’t even know he had a daughter. How can I be familiar with her?”
Jones didn’t look terribly convinced. “So you don’t know anything about her abilities?”
She didn’t bat a lash as she lied, “Nope.”
Taige knew that nothing on her face had given her away, but she also knew that he hadn’t believed a word she’d said, either. It didn’t matter. She didn’t care if he believed her or not, and in another few minutes, he was going to be plenty distracted. Sliding a look back at the house, she said, “Bad things happened in there, Jones. I can feel them pushing at me. Can’t fight it much longer.”
He nodded. “I had expected as much.” He glanced around and finally cupped a hand around her arm, gestured to his car with his other hand. “I don’t imagine you want to sit down in that place.”
No. No, I don’t,
she thought grimly. Jones opened the back door and she crawled inside, cradling her injured hand to her belly. Curling into a fetal position, she stopped fighting and let the madness take her.
she thought grimly. Jones opened the back door and she crawled inside, cradling her injured hand to her belly. Curling into a fetal position, she stopped fighting and let the madness take her.
Bad didn’t even begin to describe the torment that awaited her. Sheer hell didn’t describe it. It was an evil unlike anything she had ever felt in her life, and Taige had dealt with a lot of evil. She felt their presence screaming at her, felt their pain. The shock.
Beatings, harsh and pitiless. Days of starvation and dehydration. The ugly blackness of despair as the mind finally accepted what the body had already known. Death waited, and the only question was when it would come and how painful it would be.
The young children were the worst though. They never stopped believing that somebody would come for them. That they would be saved. But they weren’t. They died screaming, broken and alone.
All until Jillian. Jillian broke the cycle.
Taige came out of her stupor screaming and crying. Her entire body twitched and jerked. It was a familiar feeling, and one she didn’t really care for. The bastard had used a Taser on her again. Sending Jones a dirty look, she said hoarsely, “I think you like having a reason to zap me.”
Jones cocked a brow. “Taige, I may be a bit of a bastard, but I have no desire to cause a woman harm.” Then he shrugged. “But you weren’t coming out of it. You’ve been under more than an hour, and you screamed for a good twenty minutes. You weren’t stopping.”
Yeah. She knew that. But just because she knew a physical blow was sometimes the only way to bring her out, that didn’t mean she had to like it. Her limbs shook with exhaustion as she climbed out of the car. Glancing at the brightly lit house, she asked, “Have they started looking under the floorboards yet?”
“No. There was a crawl space, but somebody sealed it with concrete. We won’t be able to do anything until we tear up the floorboards.” He looked back at her and said, “There’s nothing to be found in that house that will lead us to him, is there?”
Taige shrugged. “You’d be better to ask one of your precogs that, Jones. But I really don’t think so. This guy, he’s too careful.”
With a bitter smile, Jones muttered, “We’d noticed. They’ve been keeping me updated. We haven’t found a single hair. Not a fingernail. The one thing we did find was a receipt under the refrigerator, dated three years back. It was from one of those old-fashioned cash registers, didn’t have so much as an address on it. Just the date.” Shaking his head, Jones said, “What are we supposed to do with a receipt? Nothing but prices, a date, and a total.”
“No fingerprints, I assume?”
Jones’s flat look was answer enough. Sighing, Taige shoved away from the car. Her head was pounding, her throat felt raw from screaming, and she wanted to sleep so badly, she almost hurt from it. But instead, she locked her legs and said, “Before they tear it up, I want to go over it once more, okay?”
He gestured to the house. “Be my guest.” As she walked off, he called out, “You need to give me an official report, Taige.”
“I wasn’t here on Bureau business,” she said over her shoulder.
Sliding in front of her, Jones blocked her path. “You look like hell, Taige. You need some downtime.”
Taige shook her head. “No, I don’t. What I need is to find something that can lead me to the bastard who did this.” Then she walked off, her head down and her gut already churning. “If you’re smart,” she muttered to herself, “you’ll just stay out of this part.”
But Taige hadn’t ever claimed to be a genius. Once more, she walked back into that hellish house, watching as the team went over everything with a fine-tooth comb. No, it was more detailed than that. They might as well have used X-ray vision, because they peered between the cracks in the floorboards, they checked out the walls, they moved out the few appliances and took them apart.
She joined them, skimming the back of her hand along surfaces so she could have physical contact without adding her prints to the mess. Everything would be dusted for prints, and if they found hers among them, they’d rip her a new tail. It had happened before.
Physical contact could strengthen her gift, and all she really needed was just a faint link. Not much, just a little. She could get a memory flash off something a killer had touched months, years earlier.
But there was nothing. After the first two hours when she went crawling across the floor on her one good hand and her knees, Jones had told her to take a break. She hadn’t. She kept going, searching for something that couldn’t be found, and she had no intention of quitting.
It was midnight before she finally acknowledged what most of the team had accepted hours ago. Taige would find no trace of the kidnapper here. There might be trace physical evidence—and oh, did she mean trace. So far, they hadn’t even found an eye-lash.
And there wasn’t even a sliver of a psychic trail.
She sat on the porch, numb inside, as she watched the crime scene techs going over the yard. More teams would have to be brought in.
She wouldn’t be on hand for those, though. She’d done her part, done what little she could. The visions had showed her precious little this time, but it was a damn good thing she waited, because once the gray sucked her under this time, it hadn’t wanted to let go. Jones probably hadn’t enjoyed using that Taser on her, but she also doubted that it would give him any bad moments. The man was relentless, pitiless, and driven.
Still aching from the Taser jolt, Taige stood off to the side and watched as they pried up for the first floorboard. Taige had told Jones the harsh, ugly truth: there was a graveyard of bones under the floorboards of the main cabin. And she had no idea how many bodies.
Right now, she didn’t want to even see the first one. Turning on her heel, she left the house and went out onto the porch. The air out there was cooler, just a bit, and the stink of death wasn’t so strong. But she didn’t dare relax. Worn out, she sank down on the front steps and braced her elbows on her knees.
She was so damned tired.
Breathe, girl. Just breathe. One breath in. One breath out.
She might not be able to sleep, but if she tried hard enough, maybe she could zone out for just a minute or two. Except every time she drifted just a little closer to a mindless state of rest, the screams would start again.
She might not be able to sleep, but if she tried hard enough, maybe she could zone out for just a minute or two. Except every time she drifted just a little closer to a mindless state of rest, the screams would start again.
“You ever going to stop being the Lone Ranger?”
Taige managed to smile as Desiree Lincoln settled down beside her. If Dez wasn’t such a sweetheart, Taige could have hated her on the spot. Dez bore a startling resemblance to Halle Berry, and she almost always had a smile on her face. She worked with Jones’s unit, and technically, she was considered part of the crime scene investigative team. But Jones didn’t work with typical agents, plain and simple. Dez’s particular skill wasn’t the kind that Taige would have taken for all the wine and chocolate in the world. Dez made a connection with victims who had already died, and that was why she was here now.
Dez glanced at the house and murmured, “I hear they think they’re going to find some bones.”
Grimacing, Taige said, “Not some. A lot.” Inside, she could hear them working. It would be hours yet before they were ready for Dez, hours away from finding all the bodies. But Dez always liked to be there from the first.
If Taige was right, the bones beneath the floorboards of the cabin were going to take a long time to sort out. Jones probably hoped Dez would help shorten that time frame. She probably would. Dez, like all of the people Jones had grabbed for his secretive unit, was damn good with her abilities. More, she had an ethereal way about her; all the death she dealt with rarely seemed to faze her. Taige had once asked her how she could do what she did and still seem so at peace.
Dez had told her it was because by the time the victims came to her, they were all way past suffering. Then she’d smiled and told Taige it was easier that way. At that point, she couldn’t do anything to add to their pain; therefore, she couldn’t fail them.
In their line of work, failure meant people died.
“Scoot your skinny butt over, Lone Ranger. Tell me what’s going on in there.”
Obligingly, Taige scooted over enough so Dez could sit down, and when Dez wrapped an arm around her shoulder, she willingly accepted the silent offer of comfort. “Wasn’t trying to be the Lone Ranger, Dez. I just couldn’t wait.”
“These poor babies calling you that hard?”
Taige shook her head. She shot a grim glance over her shoulder, staring inside the open door as Taylor barked out orders left and right. From time to time, he reached up and rubbed at the back of his neck. It was one of those rare times when the bastard actually seemed almost human. All this death was enough to do it, though. Even Dez looked a little grim, and for her, that was unusual. “It wasn’t them that pulled me here; it was the girl.”
“Hmmm. Yeah, the little cutie that was grabbed from Atlanta. You felt that?”
“Nope.” She braced her arms on her knees and leaned forward. “It was her father.”
Dez’s midnight brows arched up. “Her father. Well, that’s a different turn for you.”
Taige grimaced. “Not exactly. I knew him. We . . . we sort of had this thing when we were younger.” Exhaustion pressed down on her hard like a weight, but there was no way in hell she was going to rest here. Those few minutes when she had tried to just zone out had been rough. Really going to sleep? That would be like walking willingly into hell. All around her was the lingering touch of death. Even if her gifts didn’t intrude on her sleep, the negative energy here sure as hell would. She was going to have enough nightmares as it was. Taige had no intention of letting the sad, angry atmosphere of this place color those bad dreams any more than she had to.
“A thing, huh?” Dez smiled. “Saw his picture in the paper. He look as biteable in person as he is on paper?”
Biteable. Despite her exhaustion, she couldn’t help but smile. “More so.”
Feeling Dez’s eyes on her, she looked back over her shoulder. The appraising look on the woman’s face made Taige squirm. “So that’s the deal.”
“What?” Taige demanded defensively.
“I always wondered why you don’t talk about guys. You’re hung up on some sexy boy from high school.”
She didn’t bother denying it. “It wasn’t high school. His parents were loaded; they had a summer house close to where I grew up.”
Dez made a face. “Oh, please tell me he wasn’t some rich boy looking to piss his folks off by dating a black girl.”
Taige’s face softened a little. “No. He wasn’t like that. Cullen . . .” Her voice trailed off while she tried to figure out just how much she wanted to tell Dez. She hadn’t discussed that last day with Cullen with anybody. Not even Rose before she died, and the good Lord knows, Rose had asked. And asked. And asked . . . Especially after—
Oh, Taige, girl. Don’t go there.
She had enough shit inside her head without remembering that period in her life.
She had enough shit inside her head without remembering that period in her life.
“He broke your heart.”
“Yeah.” Taige blew out a soft breath and rubbed her hands over her face. “Yeah, he did.”
“So, speaking as your friend, should I totally hate this guy?”
Taige laughed. “Cullen isn’t the kind of guy you can hate easily. God knows I certainly tried to hate him.”
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