Authors: Shiloh Walker
Tags: #Contemporary, #Romantic Suspense, #Romance Suspense
The Missing (20 page)
Still holding her Glock, Taige peered through the window. It was exactly as she’d seen in those few brief moments from earlier, one room that served as kitchen and bedroom, and a wall that bisected the house nearly in half. The door was in the middle of it, and Taige’s heartbeat kicked up a few notches when she saw it.
Jillian—
She pulled back and slid Cullen a glance before ducking inside, first one leg, then the other. She wobbled a little and ended up smacking her busted hand on the wall when she went to catch her balance. Pain streaked up her arm, and she just barely managed to keep from crying out. Biting down on her lip, she did her best to push the pain aside and focus on the situation at hand.
It was hot in there. Dangerously so. The windows were closed, and although there was an AC unit in the back window, it wasn’t on. The air was close and tight, and there was a faint scent of something that set her teeth on edge.
Taige felt a mad vibration on her hip, and she looked down at her cell phone. Moving to the door, she undid the series of locks before pulling her phone off the clip and reading the message. Jones. Impatient bastard. He was a good hour away still, according to the message, although there was a helicopter en route that would be there within thirty minutes.
I plan on getting them out of here in less than ten,
Taige thought grimly. Despite the heat in the room, she felt chilled, and the skin on the back of her neck was crawling. She opened the door to let Cullen in, and she stepped to the side as he came through the doorway, taking in the room with one quick glance.
Taige thought grimly. Despite the heat in the room, she felt chilled, and the skin on the back of her neck was crawling. She opened the door to let Cullen in, and she stepped to the side as he came through the doorway, taking in the room with one quick glance.
His mouth compressed down to a thin, tight line as he started for the door. Taige shoved the phone into her pocket and rushed to cut Cullen off. She hadn’t seen any kind of trap on the door earlier, but looking through the gray didn’t always allow for the clearest view, and she wasn’t going to take the chance that something nasty was waiting to happen if somebody opened the door unwittingly.
She slammed a hand against Cullen’s chest and said, “Slow down.”
He went to move her aside, and Taige shoved him. “Wait a damn minute, Cullen. Let me make sure it’s safe.”
He looked down at her, and there were a few seconds when she wondered if he was really even aware of her as a person. He eyed her as though she was nothing more than an obstacle in his way. Even though she understood, it hurt. Softening her voice, she said, “Just let me check the door, okay?”
There had been a case three years ago when a dad, a certified lunatic who was convinced the government was trying to brain-wash his wife, had killed her and then kidnapped his three kids. For three months, the guy had gone off the map. It wasn’t until after the mother’s body was found that Taige was brought in. She led Taylor’s unit to where the man was hiding his kids, but there had been a trap rigged to the door. When one of the agents opened it, bullets started flying. If it had been anybody other than a very cautious law enforcement agent, they would have needed some body bags.
Taige still had some bad moments over that one, but it had taught her a very important lesson: people were fucking crazy.
By the time she was satisfied the door was safe, several minutes had passed, and she could all but feel Cullen’s impatience as she wrapped her hand around the knob and turned it.
Slowly. Easing it open an inch at a time and standing off to the side, just in case. It opened completely, and she felt her legs go watery as she saw Jillian lying on the cot, her face slack, her chest rising and falling. It was every bit as hot in the bathroom as it was in the main room, and a nasty, cold ball of fear settled in Taige’s belly as she saw the girl’s flushed red face.
She started toward Jillian. Two steps, though, and she froze in place as screams started to echo through her head. Screaming voices, begging for help, begging for death; children begging for their mothers before their voices were forever silenced. A moan rattled up through her tight throat, but she wasn’t aware she’d made a sound. Bile churned in her gut, and she fell to her knees, vomiting on the floor.
Her eyes were wide open, but it wasn’t the gleaming white tile she saw—or rather, it was, but the tile was covered in blood. Not streaked, but covered so that the white wasn’t even visible. Face after face flashed through her mind, and she could hear their voices.
Help me . . .
Don’t hurt me . . .
I want my mommy.
There was a laugh, ugly and monstrous. The man’s voice was distorted, and try as she might, Taige couldn’t see his face. She saw his hands, big and cruel-looking, rising and coming down. Taige flinched away as she felt their pain. So many—there were so many.
“Son of a bitch,” she gasped. “You son of a bitch.”
Tears blinded her, and she had to wrench herself out of the vision. Her skin crawled as she shoved herself to her feet and stared at the room. The stink of vomit permeated the air. Staring at the narrow cot, she saw them. Children, ranging from mere toddlers to teenagers: black, white, Hispanic, male and female.
Slowly, she turned her head and stared at Cullen. He held Jillian in his arms, patting her face and talking to her in a voice thick with tears and terror as the little girl continued to lie there, unresponsive. “She needs a doctor,” Taige said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Lying in this close, confined heat, the girl was dehydrated. At least. Taige closed the distance between them, and although part of her didn’t want to touch the girl at all, she reached out and laid a hand on Jillian’s narrow chest. The girl was breathing far too quickly, and her heartbeat was weak and erratic.
But the girl’s soul was powerful. Taige felt it wrap around her like a blanket warm from the sun. Relief rushed through her, and she almost sagged to her knees. Thank God. Then she pulled her hand back and turned to stare at the room. There was a cabinet under the sink, and Taige crossed to it, opening it up and finding white washcloths, as brilliantly white as the tiles. Grabbing a stack, she turned on the tap water and soaked them through, carrying them back to Cullen and the girl.
She laid one the girl’s forehead. Jillian whimpered but didn’t open her eyes. “You got water in the truck?” she asked, draping the other rags over his shoulder.
He lifted his head and stared her, his eyes practically sight-less. “Yeah,” he murmured. Then he looked down at Jillian. A sense of hopelessness wrapped around him like a shroud.
She ached for him and wished she could do something, anything, to take this from him. Taige wanted to wrap her arms around him and promise that everything would be okay, but she didn’t make promises she couldn’t keep. Instead of trying to comfort him, she made her voice hard and flat as she said, “Cullen, she’s just dehydrated. Get her to the hospital. There was a county hospital two exits back on the highway.” Digging in her pocket, she pulled out one of the cards that Taylor constantly nagged her to carry. She shoved it into Cullen’s pocket. “Taylor’s number is on it. Call him after you get Jillian some medical care.”
His voice was rusty. “Aren’t you coming?”
She looked away from him and crossed her arms over her chest, automatically cradling her splinted hand. “No. I’m not done here. Not yet.” Then she softened, unable to help it as she reached up and laid a hand on his cheek. His flesh seemed as chilled as she was: shock. “Cullen, she’s going to be okay. Just pull it together and get her some medical care.”
Finally, his eyes focused, and when he looked at her again, she knew he saw her. Cullen nodded grimly, and he turned away, cradling his daughter against his chest as he left, walking away with long, quick strides.
She held herself still until she heard Cullen’s engine turn over, and then she looked back at the bathroom. “Where are you?” she asked softly. She could feel them pushing at her, screaming to her, but if she opened herself up to them again, she wasn’t sure she could pull herself out on her own, and it was too dangerous to do it now.
Taylor, damn him, knew how to handle her if she slid too deep inside the visions. Until he was here, she had to keep herself centered. But she couldn’t remain still, either. The phone at her hip buzzed again. This time, she answered it.
“Jillian’s alive. Her father has her. Taking her to the emergency room.”
“Damn it, Taige. You know she needs—”
Interrupting, Taige said, “She needs fluids. She’s dehydrated. Seriously dehydrated.” Another wave of agony washed over her, and she almost buckled under the weight of it. She had no idea how tortured her voice sounded when she said, “It’s bad here, Jones. So bad.”
Jones was quiet for a moment, and then he said, “Are you in trouble?”
She shook her head. “Not yet. But I will be if you don’t hurry.”
“Get out of the house until the team arrives, Taige. That’s an order.”
But Taige didn’t like orders. Especially orders that came from Taylor Jones. “Get your ass here now.” Then she disconnected and turned her back on the bathroom. Whatever had happened in there, she wasn’t going to let herself see just yet. But the main room, she would look there.
Look for traces of the monster who’d done this.
“ARE you ever going to learn to listen?”
“I don’t work for you, remember?” Taige said as she glanced up from her focused study of the floorboards and wished she had some tools: a crowbar, a shovel, something. There was something under the floor of this house, and considering how edgy she was, considering the voices that continued to scream at her, she suspected she knew what it was.
Bodies. How many, she had no clue, but their cries were a dull roar inside her head, and she had long since stopped trying to differentiate between individual voices. She tapped on one of the floorboards with the butt of her gun and said, “There’s something under here. I think he buried their bodies.”
“Their?” Jones asked from the doorway, his bland, professional face falling away for a minute and letting her see some semblance of humanity. “Whose?”
Shaking her head, she murmured, “I don’t know. But there are a lot of them. She wasn’t his first, Jones. Not by a long shot.”
Shoving to her feet, she glanced around the plain, Spartan cabin. “There’s no sign of the owner here. No vehicle when we got here, no personal belongings—no imprints. I can’t sense anything from him. It’s almost like he doesn’t even exist.”
“You can’t see his face?”
Taige shook her head. “No. A glimpse of his hands, but there was nothing there to identify him beyond the fact that he’s male. Even his voice doesn’t sound real to me. It’s too ugly, too distorted.”
Taylor scowled and stood aside, letting his team come in. The team that had arrived on the helicopter had been ordered to wait until he arrived now that they knew the girl was safe. Jones gestured to the floor and said, “Ms. Branch thinks there is something under the floorboards. See if there’s a crawl space or something for now. Let’s get to work. Ms. Branch, if you don’t mind . . .”
He gestured to the open door. He said nothing else, but she got the picture loud and clear. Oooohhh . . . he was pissed. Smirking, she headed for the door. “What, can’t I stay and play with the big kids, Daddy?”
“The big kids work for me, remember? You don’t.” He parroted her own words back at her as he followed her outside. Once they were on the porch, he said, “Fill me in, Taige. And don’t bother telling me that this wasn’t a Bureau case. The only reason you got here with him instead of with us is because he slipped away from his tail.”
In a mockingly respectful tone, she replied, “Then maybe you should train your men better, boss.” Taige wrapped her arms around her belly and wished there was someplace she could sit down. She was damn tired, and her legs felt like wax. “Cullen Morgan is a private citizen with no training. If he can evade your agents, then you have a problem.”
Jones’s eyes narrowed, and if Taige were actually an official part of his team, she just might have gotten a little nervous. He gave agents that look, and demotions came rolling along like a river. But she wasn’t part of his team, she wouldn’t ever be part of his team, and the most he could do was not send her any more cases.
Which would suit her just fine.
Taige wasn’t naive enough to actually think that would happen, though. She’d been trying to get him to fire her for the past five years—longer. Hadn’t happened yet, and she was under no illusions to think that might change any time soon.
She waited for him to press the issue, but instead, he went off on another tangent. “I believe the two of you had some history.”
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