Deadly Dance (6 page)

“No,” Harrison said, trying to reassure the kid. There was no point in scaring him any more than necessary. At least not until they’d found something solid. “It’ll just help us to find her if we know what she was wearing.”

“So you believe what I’m telling you? That Sara wouldn’t just leave without letting me know.”

“We’re treating this very seriously, Tony. And I promise you, if we find anything concrete, you’ll be the first to know. But in the meantime, you need to keep quiet about this. If something has happened to Sara, the worst thing that can happen is for the news to get out before we understand what we’re dealing with. Do you understand?”

He nodded, emotions playing across his face. “I just need you to find her. Before something awful happens.” His eyes strayed to the computer again. “The woman in the pictures—she’s in real trouble. And if there’s any chance that could be Sara…”

“We’re going to find her,” Hannah said, even as Harrison signaled her to be quiet. She knew it wasn’t professional. That it was an empty promise. But she couldn’t help but respond to the pain in Tony’s eyes. One thing was definitely clear—he loved Sara. And Hannah just wanted to give him something to hold on to.

I
t seems like every time I move a step forward I wind up hitting a brick wall.” Harrison pushed away from his computer with a sigh.

They’d adjourned to Hannah’s house after their meetings with Tina and Tony, the goal to try to trace the video to its source and/or to figure out where the hell it had been shot. But so far, no luck; every lead had fizzled. Whoever was pulling the strings was good at hiding their tracks.

“Sounds to me like you’re mixing your metaphors,” Hannah said. “Besides, I’ve heard you say a thousand times that this kind of thing takes time.”

“True enough,” he agreed, looking at her over the top of his computer. It was amazing how easy it was to be with Hannah. He hadn’t really had a friend like her since Madison.

Of course, he and Madison were still friends. Hell, he was probably officially still a member of Last Chance. But for now at least, it suited him better to stick with
A-Tac. Besides, Madison had Gabriel. And no matter how close they’d been, husband trumped best friend every time. Especially when said friend was a male.

He shook his head and glanced over at the clock on the mantel and wished he hadn’t. It was almost midnight. “Problem is,” he said, pulling his attention away from the past to the matter at hand, “we don’t have time. Not if that girl is really in trouble. You know as well as I do that the first twenty-four hours are crucial.”

“I do. And it makes me sick to think what might be happening to her. But we can’t force the answers. So maybe what we need is a break.” She pushed up from the chair at the table where she’d been working. “That way we’ll be able to come back at it with fresh eyes. I could make us some coffee.”

“Actually I could use a beer.” Hannah had a weakness for English bitter and usually had a well-stocked refrigerator. “Any chance of a choice brew?”

“Absolutely. Owen just brought me some Samuel Smith,” she said, already heading for the kitchen. Owen, an Englishman, was Tyler’s husband. He was currently working with Homeland Security, but he still made the occasional trip back to the home country, and Harrison knew that Hannah had a standing order for beer.

Harrison followed, allowing his gaze to wander around the room. Like Hannah herself, the house was unique. Full of offbeat artwork and bright colors, it felt homey but still somehow empty. There were no photographs or personal memorabilia. Nothing that gave any hint of Hannah’s life before A-Tac.

Although it wasn’t unusual for people in their line of work to come from places they’d just as soon forget, he still
found himself curious about Hannah’s life. Crazy thought. Probably stemmed from their close call the other night. Almost dying had a way of bringing people together.

Or maybe it was the outfit. That skirt had been mouthwateringly short and tight. And although he wasn’t interested in relationships, he wasn’t a eunuch either, and even in light of their dire circumstances—or maybe because of them—Hannah had looked pretty damn fine.

“You want it in a glass?” Hannah asked, rear end sticking out from behind the refrigerator door. “The only downside to having English beer delivered is that it has to come in a bottle.” She straightened up, two bottles in hand, as he perched himself on a barstool at the breakfast counter. “So? Bottle or glass?”

“I know it’s very pedestrian, but I grew up drinking Lone Star in a bottle.”

“Bottle it is.” She removed the top and handed it to him. “And just for the record, I like Texas beers. Particularly Shiner Bock.”

“Ah, a girl with an open mind. I like that. So when were you in Texas?” The question was an honest one, but he found himself hoping for something to fill in the blanks of her past.

“We worked an operation with DEA a few years back. Trying to stop a Mexican drug cartel. We were based in Laredo.” She hopped up onto the counter opposite him and took a long swig of beer.

“Not a hell of a lot else to do in Laredo except drink.”

“Yeah, and I learned pretty fast that tequila wasn’t the best choice. That stuff has a wicked kick.”

“And usually about two beats after you’ve decided it won’t affect you.” He laughed, memories stirring.

“Sounds like you have personal experience with the stuff.” Hannah tipped her head to the side, eyeing him through blue-rimmed glasses, the kitchen light playing on the magenta streaks in her hair.

“Not in a really long time. But when I was in college, I had a bad night. Some buddies and I decided to throw a party. And stupidly, I volunteered to play bartender. Rule was that every time someone had a shot, I had to have a shot, too. You can just imagine.”

“Oh, God, makes me sick just thinking about it. I take it you took your duties seriously.” She smiled, suppressing a laugh.

“Very seriously. And of course, as we just said, the most deadly thing about tequila is that it doesn’t hit you right away. So when a bunch of us decided to go see a movie, I was more than game.
Apocalypse Now
was showing at the student union on campus. Part of some seventies film festival. So we went.”

“Uh oh.”

“Got it in one,” he smiled, remembering. “We went into the theater, and I remember the opening. You know the fan blades going around above Martin Sheen’s head, the sound swelling.”

“Yeah.” She nodded, sipping from her bottle. “It turns into the sound of a hovering helicopter, right?”

“Exactly. Anyway, the motion made me sort of sick so I made my way to the bathroom, and next thing I know, I’m waking up over the toilet bowl, and the credits of the movie are rolling.”

“Oh, my God.” She was laughing out loud now. “It’s a three-hour movie.”

“Suffice it to say, I haven’t had tequila since. Just
thinking of it gives me the shudders. And Bree was really pissed because she had to leave her friends and take me home.”

“Bree?” Hannah queried, her fingers picking at the label on the bottle.

“My sister,” Harrison said, just the mention of her name sobering him. “She was at the movie, too. Saw me and my condition and swooped in to take me back to my dorm room. Probably a good thing in hindsight as I was still pretty drunk, even after crashing in the john. But I didn’t think so at the time, which made it that much more difficult for her. Anyway, point is, I learned my lesson when it comes to tequila.” He kept his voice light, praying that she wouldn’t probe any further about his sister. It was just easier to keep the past separate from his life now.

“Well, my story isn’t as spectacular,” she said, her lips curling into a smile, “but it does begin with what I thought was a clear-headed game of pool. I leaned over the table to make a bank shot, and the next thing I remember, Jason and Nash were, literally, carrying me back to the hotel where we were staying. Needless to say, I still haven’t lived it down. So I can truly sympathize.”

Most women he knew wouldn’t have been able to keep themselves from digging for more information. But not Hannah.

“I guess everyone has stories like ours.”

“If they’ve ever drunk tequila.” She leaned back, propping bare feet on the adjacent counter. “So after college you went to the FBI, right?”

He nodded, taking another sip from the bottle to order his thoughts. “I thought I could make a difference.”

“And did you?”

“Not as much as I’d hoped,” he shrugged. “Sometimes the bad guys win the day no matter what you do.”

“Only you can’t look at it that way,” she said, “or it’ll eat you alive. Jason always said it was about winning battles. And that the war might be never-ending, but that there were moments. The important thing is to celebrate the victories no matter how small rather than letting the losses weigh you down.”

“It’s good advice. And I suppose that’s why I’m still here.” He shrugged and hopped up. “Another round?” Hannah nodded, and he walked over to the refrigerator. “You and Jason were close. I could see that even in the short time I had with the two of you together. Was it ever something more?” He wasn’t sure why he asked the question. There was no question that Jason had been in love with Lara. But still he couldn’t help but wonder.

“Me and Jason?” she asked, clearly surprised as he handed her a beer. “No. Never. With him, it was always Lara.”

“And with you?” Harrison asked, wondering if the beer was going to his head.

“I don’t have time for relationships. At least not that kind. Jason was my friend. And I’ll miss him until the day I die. But there was never anything more. On either side.”

“I’m sorry,” Harrison said, raising his hands in defense. “I shouldn’t have asked. I’m just being nosy.”

“It’s a fair question.” Hannah shrugged. “I know I talk about him all the time. I still wake up in the middle of the night wanting to call him about something, and it takes a moment to realize that he’s not there. And even more strange, I thought it would be easier with Lara gone. But
it’s not. It’s only made it harder somehow. As if in seeing her and talking to her, I was still somehow in touch with Jason. Stupid, right?”

“Not at all,” he assured her. “When we care about someone—no matter the context—and then we lose that person, I think it’s sort of like a part of us dies, too. And we want it back. That’s perfectly normal.” He paused, realizing the danger of the ground they were treading. “Or at least that’s what they kept telling us at Quantico.”

“That’s right. I forgot,” she said, fortunately following his conversational lead. “You worked with the serial killer unit, didn’t you? That must have been horrific.”

“More than you can possibly know.”

“And now all of this with Sara. It must be bringing up all kinds of memories.” She sounded so caring he almost told her the truth.

Almost.

“You have no idea.”

She studied him for a moment and then nodded. “I can’t imagine dealing with that kind of thing day in and day out. I guess it’s not surprising you moved on. And now thanks to A-Tac, you’re potentially right back in the middle of it.”

“Well, we don’t know that for sure. There’s still the possibility that Sara’s disappearance and the video are unrelated.”

“But you don’t believe that, do you?” she asked, shoving her glasses farther up onto her nose as she opened the beer he’d handed her.

“No,” he shook his head, wishing it weren’t the truth. “I don’t.”

“Which means that you think Sara’s already dead,”
Hannah said, putting voice to the words he couldn’t bring himself to say.

“We don’t know that either. And for now at least, we’ve got to keep operating as if we can still help her. And the best thing we can do now is get back to work.” He pushed off the stool as Hannah’s cellphone started to ring.

Pulling it from her pocket, she answered, nodded as she listened to the conversation on the other side, and then flipped the phone shut again.

“What?” Harrison asked, his mind running through the possibilities.

“That was Avery,” she said. “They’ve found Sara’s roommate, Stephanie.”

Regan Hall was the newest women’s dorm on campus. Which meant the 1940s. So not exactly “new.” But still it boasted larger rooms and better bathroom facilities. And though there was fierce loyalty to all the dorms, Regan was the most popular by far.

Stephanie Blackwell sat at the table in the Regan dining room, her hands clasped tightly together as she watched Harrison and Hannah. “I swear to you I had nothing to do with Sara’s disappearance. I’m sure Tony told you, we barely talk.”

“So where have you been?” Harrison asked. He was standing by the window, hand braced on the frame.

“I went home,” Stephanie said, her voice trembling. “My mother’s been sick, and they put her in the hospital. I wanted to be there. You can call my dad or the hospital.”

“It’s okay,” Hannah said, careful to keep her voice reassuring. “We’re not the police. We’re just trying to find Sara.”

“Well, I don’t know where she is. I haven’t seen her since yesterday morning just before I left.”

“And was there anything wrong? Had she been acting strangely? Like something was bothering her maybe?”