Vanished (25 page)

The station was right down the street. Time to go back.

But when she started the car, she turned it in the other direction. Back to the same dead-end road where she’d followed Darnell Conway to Jack Bullock’s property. The same dead-end road where Frank Abbott lived.

Frank already knew he was a suspect. He wouldn’t be surprised by another visit.

But Noreen might be there. If she could just find Noreen alone, maybe she could get her to admit whatever she’d learned about her uncle. Maybe the whole thing would finally unravel.

The dirt road felt different as the darkness settled around her and thunder cracked the air, more ominous somehow. Maybe it was because she knew what was at the end of the road, in that field.

The cops working that scene were surely calling it a night by now, especially if a storm was coming.

As if to confirm her thought, Evelyn heard the hum of a low-flying helicopter. It kept going, back toward the runway at the other end of town.

Evelyn continued driving, and pulled into Frank Abbott’s drive. At the top of the drive was an old beater that hadn’t been there last time she’d visited Frank’s house. Noreen’s car?

She parked and stepped out of the car, glancing around at Frank’s property. The huge, overgrown field behind his decrepit house. High grasses similar to the field at the end of the road, going on for miles, broken up only by the occasional copse of trees. The barn at the very end of the drive, half-hidden behind the house, that agents had searched the other day with Frank’s permission.

They’d found nothing there. Nothing in his house, either. But that was to be expected, since Frank had invited them to search. If he was the killer, he’d make sure he had nothing incriminating in his house or barn.

She didn’t really want to talk to Frank. He knew she suspected him and he’d never tell her anything. But she wasn’t worried about it, either. Frank had already been released from the police station; they didn’t have anything on him that would stick. And Rose Bay was the kind of small town where news like whose pin Mandy Toland had when she’d escaped would already have made the rounds.

Frank must know that Jack was the primary suspect now. If Frank was the killer, he’d want to throw that in her face. They’d been looking at him, at Darnell, at Walter, and all along Jack Bullock had been working the case.

Hoping Noreen was here and she wouldn’t have to talk to Frank at all, Evelyn strode up the long walkway to the house. If Noreen was inside, Evelyn decided she’d play the Jack card. Tell Noreen they needed her back at the station for her theories on Jack, since the two of them had known each other so long. Then, once she got Noreen alone in her car, she’d ask the real questions.

But the closer she got to the house, the more her hopes dropped. Despite the car in the drive, the house looked dark and empty. The porch lights were off, and there were no lights on in the front of the house, either.

Unlike the last time she’d visited, all the shades were tightly drawn. Evelyn rang the bell, anyway.

When no one came to the door, she rang it again, watching the windows for any sign that someone was checking to see who was there. But everything remained still.

Evelyn sighed, ready to give up, when lightning cracked across the sky and rain pelted her head, the kind of fast storm South Carolina often got in the summer. It showed up fast and hard and moved through the same way.

She was drenched in seconds, but she turned to sprint back to her car. Lightning flashed through the sky again, and all the hair on Evelyn’s neck shot to attention.

She reached for her weapon as she spun back around, but her SIG never cleared her holster. The front door of Frank Abbott’s house was standing open and a gun was pressed against her forehead, the barrel cold and hard.

Holding the gun was Noreen Abbott.

Twenty-Four

“N
oreen.” Evelyn gulped, her eyes darting up to where the gun pressed against her forehead.

She could just see the barrel at the edge of her vision. A Glock pistol. It was what most law enforcement officers carried. A solid, capable weapon with no external safety. One that required a mere three and a half pounds of pressure to pull the trigger and fire a bullet.

She knew what a gunshot from that close would do. She’d seen it at crime scenes. It would make a mess. It would blow out a chunk of her head, splatter blood and brain and tissue on the ground somewhere behind her. It would leave a circle of black powder around the spot where most of her forehead used to be, telling the agents who investigated her murder just how close she’d allowed her killer to get.

How the hell had she let Noreen sneak up on her?

It was a rookie mistake. A potentially fatal mistake.

Evelyn lifted her hands slowly, away from her weapon, trying to reassure Noreen that she wasn’t a threat.

Noreen’s eyes darted around wildly, and her skin was abnormally pale. Her long hair was sopping wet and plastered against her, wind whipping it in her face. Her gun hand trembled just slightly, making the barrel dance against Evelyn’s forehead.

She looked terrified, like a woman who’d never held a gun before. Which actually made her more dangerous, because she probably had her finger inside the trigger guard, more likely to shoot accidentally. And judging by the anger that locked her jaw, more likely to shoot at any provocation.

“Noreen, it’s me, Evelyn Baine.” Obviously Noreen knew it, but maybe Evelyn could convince her she’d come here to talk about Jack. That she had no idea about Noreen’s uncle. If she played dumb, as if she thought Noreen hadn’t realized it was her when she’d pulled the gun, maybe Noreen would play along.

“I know who you are, Evelyn,” Noreen said in a voice that quavered as much as her gun. “And I know why you’re here.”

“It’s about Jack—”

“You think you can fool me?” Noreen demanded.

“No, of course not,” Evelyn said evenly, though her heart was slamming against her chest with rib-cracking power. She’d lifted her hands in a surrender gesture less than a minute ago, but they felt numb, as if all the blood had drained out of them. “We found a pin on Mandy Toland. I didn’t know if you’d heard. It was Jack’s pin. I came by to tell you. And ask for your help.”

Noreen bent her head and her voice was suddenly calm as she asked, “You want to try that again?”

Shit, why hadn’t she tried to learn more about Noreen when she’d had the chance? Noreen was young; she would’ve been only a few years out of college if she’d had the chance to go. She was shy, socially awkward, from a broken family. She’d grown up isolated, with too much responsibility and not much of a childhood. She’d grown up and dedicated herself to another purpose—a purpose in law enforcement.

So many of those things Evelyn could say about herself. In a lot of ways, she understood where Noreen had come from, how she felt about herself and the world around her. But did Evelyn dare to say why she was here? Could she talk Noreen into seeing those similarities and accepting another path for herself, a path that didn’t involve cleaning up her uncle’s mistakes?

The hard barrel of the gun trembled against Evelyn’s forehead and rain poured over her, making her cold. Her body wanted to shiver, but she fought it. Any movement could set Noreen off.

“Noreen, I know what a difference you’ve made at the police station, for Rose Bay, for so many years.” It was easy to sound genuine, because Evelyn knew it was the truth. And somehow, she managed not to sound terrified.

Noreen’s elbow dropped, the weapon pointing briefly upward, before she locked it again, and the barrel was sealed against Evelyn’s forehead. “That doesn’t matter now.”

Panic raced through her.
Please don’t let Noreen be suicidal.
If she thought she was past the point of no return—if she felt that by failing to prevent Brittany’s death she was also responsible for it—would one more death on her conscience matter? Would taking Evelyn’s life matter to her at all?

Or would she see it as a final chance to protect her uncle? After all, Frank had been released from the station. The cops were chasing down Jack Bullock. Only Evelyn had come back to Frank’s house.

So Noreen might be thinking she could get rid of Evelyn and everyone would continue to blame Jack.

Evelyn silently cursed herself. She’d thought Jack’s being the prime suspect made her safe here. It hadn’t occurred to her that it could actually put her in more danger.

“Noreen, please put down the gun. Let’s talk, okay?”

Noreen scowled, backed up just enough to pull the gun slightly away from Evelyn’s damp skin. Bracketing the weapon with both hands and keeping it steady on her, Noreen ordered, “Walk.”

“Noreen, there’s still time to stop this. Right now, you don’t have any culpability in what happened.”

It wasn’t entirely true, if she’d helped bury Brittany and could have prevented Lauren’s or Mandy’s abductions, but it was close. She’d hidden evidence of a crime, but she hadn’t abducted those children herself; she hadn’t been the one to kill Brittany. “You can still help yourself here.”

“You really think that?” Noreen asked, but there wasn’t hope in her voice, just disdain and a hint of smugness Evelyn didn’t understand.

“I really do,” Evelyn insisted.

Disgust curled Noreen’s lips. “You’re a fool. Now walk.”

The gun shook and now that Noreen had backed up a step, Evelyn could see she’d guessed right; Noreen did have her finger inside the trigger guard.

“Okay,” Evelyn said, keeping her hands up. “Can you just take your finger off the trigger?” She gave a little smile, as if this was all a misunderstanding between friends. “You’re making me a little nervous.”

Noreen’s jaw jutted out. “You
should
be a little nervous.” She shook her head, her voice turning sad. “You shouldn’t have come here, Evelyn. Now toss your weapon over there. Do it slowly. I’ve worked at a police station for six years now, since I was eighteen. So I know the right way to do it. You try anything stupid and...” She smiled. “Well, like you said, my finger’s on the trigger.”

Evelyn nodded slowly. “Okay. Sure.” Damn it. Noreen was a hell of a lot more committed to protecting her uncle than Evelyn had expected. If she wanted any hope of talking Noreen down, she had to remind her of her equal dedication to the police station.

But just now, even though it went against every self-protective instinct and every FBI mandate, Evelyn carefully pulled her gun from her holster using two fingers and tossed it, low and slow, over to Noreen.

The gun landed in the grass alongside the walkway, slightly behind Noreen.

But instead of bending to pick it up and giving Evelyn the opening she’d been hoping for, Noreen gestured down the walkway with her gun. “Walk.”

Evelyn turned, every movement measured, keeping her hands up, until her back was to Noreen. She felt her shoulder blades tense, knowing Noreen was directly behind her, that Glock aimed at the back of her head. She moved one foot, then the other, until they were back on the driveway.

The rain was still coming down hard, rushing into Evelyn’s eyes, and she longed to wipe it off her face, but all she could do was try to blink it away. “Where are we going?”

“Toward the field,” Noreen said, turning on a flashlight. Dread tightened Evelyn’s chest.

She didn’t argue. She just stepped off the walkway and into the soggy field. She followed the path Noreen lit up with her flashlight, as everything else got darker and darker. Wispy grass got higher with every step, until it was brushing the tops of her thighs, but Evelyn didn’t look back.

Her car was still in the driveway. She didn’t want Noreen to notice it, because maybe someone would see it and know she’d come out here.

But as Noreen kept directing her farther and farther into the field, Evelyn realized it wouldn’t matter. This field was too much like the one at the end of the road. It extended too far, nothing but waist-high grass that looked like it concealed nothing, but in reality could hide too much.

And damn it, Frank had said searchers had already walked through it, searching for Lauren and Brittany. There’d be no reason for them to come back here for her.

She’d only told Greg that she was going to the crime scene. She hadn’t told him about her suspicions of Frank. He would have no reason to think she’d come back here, either.

She tried to strategize, wanting to glance back at Noreen, but she didn’t need to. She could sense the gun steady on the back of her head, could hear Noreen sloshing along close behind her as the rain went from a downpour to a drizzle.

“Stop here,” Noreen finally said and, as though it was synchronized, the rain stopped, too.

Evelyn halted, slowly turning to face Noreen, her hands still up. Dread pooled in her stomach as she took in the field around her. Grass this high would easily hide a body. At least until the buzzards caught the scent. Certainly long enough for Noreen and Frank to get out of town and disappear.

Was Noreen going to execute her out in this field?

* * *

“How’s the search going?” Kyle asked as he strode back into the CARD command post, T.J. on his heels.

Greg and Tomas were right where he’d left them, only the stacks of files looked bigger. They were now surrounded by Carly and her team, each of them running through police files and checking their own resources.

Greg blinked and rubbed his eyes. “Slow. We have a possibility, but it’s not as close as I’d like for a solid motivator, so we’re still looking.”

“I sent the officers who’d finished their shifts home,” Tomas said. “Just about everyone else is out running down possible locations for Jack. So far, no one’s found him.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” T.J. said, but his denial was quieter now.

“How did the helicopter flight go?” Greg asked.

“We spotted three additional locations where the old chief might’ve been building houses.” Kyle gestured to T.J., who spread out an aerial map they’d marked. “I’d recommend sending some officers out to those sites in the morning and see what’s out there, just in case the chief dug out a root cellar at every one of those locations.”

“Or Jack did,” Greg said.

“Yeah. Where’s Evelyn?”

Greg checked his watch and frowned. “She left right after you did, around eight.” He looked over at Tomas. “What time did she call?”

Tomas shrugged, flipping through files again. “Nine-thirty?”

“That was an hour ago.” Worry lined Greg’s forehead. “She said she was on her way back. Damn it.”

“What?” Kyle asked, his own worry surfacing.

“She wanted to see the crime scene again. When she called, she’d also gone to see Jack’s wife. What do you want to bet she went back there?” Greg smiled ruefully. “Answering to anyone—and checking in—isn’t exactly Evelyn’s strong suit.”

“You think she’s at Jack’s house?” T.J. asked. “Why?”

“Evelyn is persistent,” Greg replied. “It’s possible she took another run at the crime scene, but I doubt it. The officers have all come back from there. It’s too dark to do much, especially in the rain. And when I talked to Evelyn, she asked me who was back here. I told her Carly was on her way. Evelyn knew we’d be getting extra help and we didn’t really need her on this.” Greg glanced at T.J. “Why did you tell Jack’s wife about the pin?”

“What?” Tomas blurted out. “Damn it, T.J.!”

T.J. rubbed the back of his neck, looking rueful. “I’m sorry. Jack’s been my partner for almost a decade. I just couldn’t believe...”

When he trailed off, Kyle got them back on the subject that mattered most to him right now. And that wasn’t Jack. “We saw Evelyn’s car on that dead-end road by the crime scene as we were bringing the bird back in. Why was she going there at all?”

And why hadn’t Greg stopped her? The last time she’d been there, they’d found Brittany’s body. And they’d dug up skeletons of older victims, one of whom was almost certainly her childhood friend.

Kyle really didn’t like the idea of her going back there by herself. What good would that do?

He knew Evelyn well enough to suspect she’d be drawn back there by guilt. She and Cassie had both been targeted and only Cassie had been taken. Evelyn had lived with that survivor’s guilt—hell, she’d
defined
herself by that survivor’s guilt—ever since.

Revisiting the scene where Cassie had probably died wasn’t going to give her closure. It would only make her feel worse.

Kyle pulled out his phone. “I’m going to see where she is and join her.”

Greg shook his head and picked up a cell phone beside him. “She forgot her phone.”

Kyle frowned and put his cell back in his pocket, then held his hand out for hers. “All right. I’m going to take a drive. See if I can find her.”

Across the table, Greg stood. “Are you getting a bad feeling here, Mac?”

Kyle shook his head. “No, just a sad one.”

“Shit.” Greg rubbed his eyes. “She said she felt like she was missing something, wanted to take another look at the scene. I wasn’t thinking...” He shrugged. “You want me to come?”

“No. Keep on this. I’ll call you when I find her.”

* * *

“Please, Noreen,” Evelyn begged. “Don’t do this.”

In the darkness, Evelyn could barely see Noreen holding the gun straight out, supporting it with both hands. Hands that no longer trembled. She didn’t look terrified anymore, either, just resigned.

She clutched the flashlight, underneath her weapon, lighting a circle below Evelyn’s eyes. Right where the bullet would hit if she fired.

“Who did you talk to about my uncle?” Noreen demanded.

“My partner,” Evelyn said quickly, forcing confidence into her tone. If Noreen thought others knew, thought that killing Evelyn wouldn’t really help her, maybe she’d reconsider.

“Your boyfriend or the other profiler?”

“My boyfriend?” Frank had called Kyle her boyfriend, had claimed Darnell had told him that. But had Frank actually been watching her all along?

The idea sent shivers up her arms. She didn’t know how long she’d been out here, but everything around her had gone dark. Was Frank watching from the house? Could he see her in the light from Noreen’s flashlight?