Scream for Me (47 page)
“You think you know . . . everything.” He dragged in a breath. “You know nothing. There are . . . others.”
Her head came up and she grabbed her gun. “Others where?” she asked, alarmed.
Granville’s eyes had gone unfocused. He’d lost a lot of blood. “Simon was mine,” he muttered. “But I was another’s.” Then, dazed, he looked up, his eyes flaring wide in fear.
She started to look over her shoulder but stopped when she felt cold steel shoved against her temple.
“Thank you, Miss Fallon,” a voice whispered in her ear. “I’ll take that gun.” He squeezed her wrist until her fingers opened and the gun dropped to the concrete floor. “Things wrapped themselves up well. Davis is arrested, Mansfield is dead and . . .” He fired and her stomach wrenched as Granville’s head exploded all over the floor. “Now, so is Granville. The seven are now none.”
“Who are you?” she asked, even though she already knew the answer.
“You already know,” he said quietly, and she knew she’d never known true fear until that moment. He forced her to her feet. “Now you’ll come with me.”
“No.” She struggled and he dug his gun back into her head. “I just need to get help for Daniel. I won’t tell them you’re here. You can go. I won’t stop you.”
“No, you won’t. Nobody will stop me. But I won’t let you go. I have plans for you.”
The way he said it made her knees buckle. “Why? I never even knew you like Gemma or the others.”
“No, you didn’t. But you’ll die, just the same.”
The sob was building again, but this time it was mixed with terror. “Why?”
“Because of your face. It all started with Alicia. It’ll end with you.”
Alex went cold and still. “You’d kill me for a
grand finale
?”
He chuckled. “That and to make Vartanian suffer.”
“Why? He never hurt you.”
“But Simon did. I can’t hurt Simon, so Daniel will have take to take his punishment.”
“Like you were punished for what Jared did,” she murmured.
“I see you understand. It’s only fair.”
“But killing me isn’t fair,” she said, trying to stay calm. “I never hurt anyone.”
“That’s true. But meaningless at this point. You’ll die, like the others, and you’ll scream, loud and long.” He pulled her backward and she fought wildly.
“We called for backup,” she sputtered. “You can’t get away.”
“Yes we can. I hope you don’t get too sick in a boat.”
The river. He was going to take her away by the river. “No. I won’t go like a lamb to slaughter. If you want me, you’re going to have to drag me by my hair.” He was going to kill Daniel. But when he did he’d have to move the gun from her temple. It would be the only chance she had. The second she felt the pressure against her temple decrease, she twisted, trying to claw his face. Abruptly he loosened his grip and for a moment she was too surprised to do anything.
Then she blinked as a final shot rang out. She had only a moment to look up into the face of . . . the paperboy . . . before he dropped. Stunned, she watched as he went down, focusing on the neat hole in his forehead.
“This is the paperboy.” She shuddered when she realized how closely O’Brien had been watching her, then looked up and sucked in a silent scream. A man with a dirty, bloody face stood holding O’Brien’s gun in his hand. He was weaving on his feet.
Alex peered closer. “
Reverend Beardsley?
”
He nodded grimly. “Yeah.” He leaned up against the door and slid to the floor, carefully placing O’Brien’s gun on the floor beside him.
She looked at the hole in O’Brien’s forehead, then back at Beardsley. “You shot him? How could you shoot him? You were . . . behind him.” She spun around to see Daniel slowly lower his head to the floor. In his hand he held his backup revolver.
“
You
shot him?” Daniel nodded once and said nothing. Alex stuck her head out the doorway and looked both ways. “Anybody else here with guns?”
“Don’t think so,” Beardsley said, and grabbed her leg. “Bailey?”
“Granville said she was still alive.”
“She was alive an hour ago,” Beardsley said.
“I’ll find out. I have to get help now.”
Clutching Daniel’s cell phone in her hand, Alex ran until she saw light streaming in through the small window in the outer door. She stopped for a moment, almost blinded by its brightness. Then she opened the door and walked out and dragged in the deepest breath she’d ever breathed.
“
Alex
.” Luke came running. “She’s hit,” he yelled. “Get the medics.”
She blinked as men came running with a gurney. “Not me,” she snapped. “Daniel’s been hit. He’s critical. He needs to be airlifted to a level one trauma center. I’ll show you where he is.” She ran, adrenaline fueling her muscles. “Bailey escaped.”
“I know,” Luke replied as he ran beside her. Behind them the gurney squeaked. “I found her. She’s alive. In pretty bad shape, but she’s alive.”
Alex knew the relief would hit her once Daniel was on the gurney. “Beardsley’s in here, too. He’s alive. He may be able to walk out on his own, but he’s bad, too.”
They got to the room at the end of the hall and Luke stopped dead at the three bodies that littered the floor. “Holy Mother of God,” he breathed. “Did you do this?”
A bubble of hysterical laugher tickled where minutes before a sob had burned. The medics were lifting Daniel to the gurney and she could breathe again. “Most of it. I killed Mansfield and wounded Granville, but O’Brien killed Granville.”
Luke nodded. “Okay.” He nudged O’Brien with his shoe. “And this one?”
“Beardsley took his gun and Daniel made the head shot.” A grin nearly broke her face in two. “I think we did good.”
Luke grinned back. “I think you did good, too.”
But Beardsley didn’t smile. He shook his head. “You were too late,” he said wearily.
Alex and Luke instantly sobered. “What are you talking about?” Alex said.
Beardsley pushed himself against the wall until he stood. “Come with me.”
Throwing a backward glance at Daniel, Alex followed, Luke’s hand on her back.
Beardsley pulled on the first door to their left. It was unlocked, but not empty. Alex stared in horror. And what she saw would be indelibly etched in her mind forever.
A young girl lay on a thin cot, her arm chained to the wall. She was gaunt, her bones clearly visible. Her eyes were wide open and there was a small round hole in her forehead. She looked about fifteen.
Alex rushed forward, dropping to her knees, pressing her fingers to a thin neck for a pulse. The girl was still warm. She looked up at Luke, overcome. “She’s dead. Maybe an hour ago.”
“They’re all dead,” Beardsley said harshly. “Every one that was left behind.”
“How many were there?” Luke asked, his voice hard with fury.
“I counted seven shots. Bailey . . .”
“She’s alive,” Luke said. “And she got one girl out with her.”
Beardsley’s shoulders sagged. “Thank God.”
“What is this place?” Alex whispered.
“Human trafficking,” Luke said succinctly, and Alex just stared at him, openmouthed.
“You mean all these girls . . . ? But why kill them?
Why?
”
“They didn’t have time to get them all out,” Beardsley said tonelessly. “They didn’t want the ones left behind to talk.”
“Who’s responsible for this?” Alex hissed.
“The man you called Granville.” Beardsley leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, and it was then that Alex noticed the dark stain on his shirt. It was spreading.
“You got shot,” she said, reaching out to help him.
He put out one hand. “Your cop is in worse shape.”
“How many did they get out?” Luke asked, and on his face Alex saw the same feral rage that she’d seen the night at the target range.
“Five or six,” Beardsley said. “They took them down to the river.”
“I’ll notify the local police and the water patrol,” Luke said. “And the Coast Guard.”
Behind them, Daniel was being wheeled out on the gurney.
“Go with him,” Beardsley said. “I’ll be fine.”
Another gurney entered the way they’d come. “These medics are here for you.” She took Beardsley’s hand. “Thank you. You saved my life.”
He nodded, his eyes flat and cold. “You’re welcome. Tell Bailey I’ll visit her.”
“I will.” Then Alex and Luke followed Daniel’s gurney out the door, looking at each door as they passed. Five more victims. She wanted to scream, but in the end she moved up to Daniel’s side, took his hand, and went out with him into the sunshine.
Atlanta, Friday, February 2, 5:45 p.m.
A
lex.” Meredith came to her feet as Alex rushed through the emergency room doors. “Oh my God, Alex.” She threw her arms around Alex and Alex held on tight.
“It’s over,” she murmured. “They’re all dead.”
Meredith pulled back, visibly shaking. “You’re hurt. Where are you hurt?”
“It’s not my blood. It’s Daniel’s and Granville’s mostly. Did they bring Daniel in?”
“The helicopter got here about twenty minutes ago.”
Alex went to the nurses’ station, Meredith at her side. “I’m Alex Fallon. Can you—”
“This way,” the nurse interrupted as a crowd of reporters surged around her. She led them back to a small waiting room. “Agent Chase Wharton told us you’d be coming. He wants to talk to you.”
“I want to talk to Daniel Vartanian’s doctor,” Alex insisted. “Bailey Crighton’s, too.”
“The doctor’s in with Mr. Vartanian now,” the nurse said kindly, then looked at Alex more closely. “You were here a few days ago, visiting the nun who died.”
“I was.” Alex was pacing the small room, her nerves jangling.
“You’re an ER nurse.” The nurse’s brows lifted. “Now it makes sense. That was one hell of a field job you did on Vartanian.”
Alex stopped pacing and looked the woman in the eye. “Was it good enough?”
The nurse nodded. “Looks that way.”
Alex let out a sigh of relief. “Can I see Bailey?”
“Come with me.”
Alex held Meredith’s hand hard as they followed. “Where is Hope?”
“With Agent Shannon and Riley, still at the safe house. We thought it best not to bring her to see Bailey until she’s cleaned up. Alex, I saw Bailey when they brought her in. She’s in really bad shape.”
“But alive,” the nurse said. She gestured to the exam room. “Just a few minutes.”
Despite the preparation, Alex winced when she saw Bailey. “Bailey, it’s me, Alex.”
Bailey’s eyelids fluttered as she struggled to open her eyes.
“It’s okay,” Alex soothed. “You need to rest. You’re safe. Hope’s safe.”
Tears seeped from Bailey’s swollen eyes. “You came. You saved my baby.”
Alex gently took her hand, noting the bruises and the nails broken well past the quick. “She’s a beautiful little girl. Meredith’s been taking care of her.”
Bailey forced her eyes open, looking from Alex to Meredith. “
Thank you
.”
Meredith’s swallow was audible. “Hope’s fine, Bailey. She misses you. And Alex never gave up hope that you were alive.”
Bailey licked her dry, split lips. “Beardsley?” she croaked.
Alex dabbed Bailey’s mouth with a wet cloth. “He’s alive. He saved my life, too. He told me to tell you he’d come to see you. Bailey, the police found your father.”
Bailey’s lips trembled. “I need to tell you. Wade . . . did some horrible things. My father knew.”
“I know. I finally let myself remember. Craig killed my mother.”
Bailey flinched. “I didn’t know that.”
“Do you know about the pills I took that day? Did Craig give them to me?”
“I think so. I don’t know for sure. But Alex . . . Wade . . . he . . . I think he killed Alicia.”
“No, he didn’t. He did a lot of other horrible things, but he didn’t kill her.”
“Rape?”
Alex nodded. “Yes.”
“There are others.”
Alex shivered. Granville had said the same thing. “You mean the letter Wade sent you? We found it, with Hope’s help.”
“There were seven. Wade and six others.”
“I know. Except for Garth Davis, they’re all dead, and Garth’s been arrested.”
Again Bailey flinched. “Garth? But he . . . Oh, God, how stupid I was.”
Alex remembered Sissy’s phone call and the man Bailey was supposed to have met the night before she was taken. “You were having an affair?”
“Yes. He came to see me after Wade died, offered his condolences as mayor.” She closed her eyes. “One thing led to another. And Wade warned me, too.
Trust no one
.”
“Did Garth ask about Wade’s belongings?” Meredith asked quietly.
“A few times, but I didn’t think anything about it and I hadn’t gotten Wade’s letters yet. I was so happy to be treated nice by someone in the town . . . Garth was looking for that damn key, just like him. That’s all
he
kept asking for. That damn key.”
“Who kept asking for the key?” Alex asked, and Bailey shuddered.
“Granville.” She said it bitterly. “What did the key open?”
“A safe-deposit box,” Alex said. “But it was empty.”
Bailey looked up in devastated bewilderment. “Then why did he do this to me?”
Alex looked at Meredith. “That’s a good question. Daniel and Luke thought the seventh man had another set of keys, but I guess Granville didn’t.”
“Or he would have taken the pictures from the box himself,” Meredith said.
“He may still have done that,” Luke said from the doorway. “Granville may have taken the pictures years ago. We don’t know yet. But Simon’s turning up alive after all those years had them all nervous. If Daniel had Simon’s key and Bailey had Wade’s key, they would have started asking questions, and Granville didn’t want that.” He stood next to Bailey’s bed. “Chase wants to talk to you, Alex. How are you feeling, Bailey?”
“I’ll be okay,” Bailey said fiercely. “I have to be. How is the girl I found?”
“Unconscious,” Luke said.
“That’s probably for the best,” Bailey murmured. “When can I see Hope?”
“Soon,” Meredith promised. “She had a terrible trauma seeing you beaten. I don’t want to scare her again. Let’s get your hair washed and try to hide some of the bruises before we bring Hope in to see you here.”
Bailey nodded wearily. “Alex, I told Granville I sent you the key. Did he hurt you?”
“No. This blood on my shirt is mostly his. He’s dead.”
“Good,” Bailey said harshly. “Did he suffer?”
“Not enough. Bailey, who else did you see while you were being held?”
“Just Granville and sometimes Mansfield. Sometimes their guards. Why?”
“Just asking.” Alex would wait to tell Bailey that Granville said there were others, just as she’d wait to tell her Craig had murdered Sister Anne. “Sleep now. I’ll be back.”
“Alex, wait. I didn’t want to tell him you had the key. He . . .” Her eyes filled with tears as she pointed to the fresh needle marks on her arm. “He shot me up.”
Alex stared at the needle marks, horrified. “No.”
“I was clean for five years. I swear.”
“I know. I talked to Desmond and all your friends.”
“Now I have to quit again.” Bailey’s voice broke, breaking Alex’s heart.
“You don’t have to do it alone this time.” Alex kissed Bailey’s forehead. “Sleep now. I need to talk to the police. They’re going to want to talk to you about the girls.”
Bailey nodded. “Tell them I’ll help all I can.”
Atlanta, Saturday, February 3, 10:15 a.m.
Daniel woke up to find Alex sleeping in the chair next to his bed. He tried to say her name three times before he could get enough volume to wake her up. “
Alex
.”
She lifted her head, blinking to immediate attention. “Daniel.” Her shoulders sagged and for a moment he thought she’d cry. Panic snaked through him.
“What?” The single syllable tore a chunk from his throat.
“Wait.” The ice chip she slipped in his mouth felt like heaven. “They took out your breathing tube, so your throat will be sore for a while. Here’s a pad and pen. Don’t talk.”
“What?” he repeated again, ignoring her. “How bad am I?”
“You’ll be out of the hospital in a few days. You were lucky. The bullet didn’t hit anything vital.” She kissed one corner of his mouth. “You won’t even need surgery. Your wound had already started to seal itself. You’ll make a full recovery and be back to work in a few weeks, a month at the outside.”
Something was still very wrong. “What happened to Mansfield and Granville?”
“Mansfield, Granville, and O’Brien are all dead. Frank Loomis, too. I’m sorry, Daniel. He was probably dead a few minutes after he was shot. But Bailey’s alive.”
“Good.” He said it as fiercely as he could. “What happened back there, Alex?” he asked hoarsely. “You and Luke . . . I heard you talking. Something about girls.”
“Granville was into something horrific,” she said quietly. “We found the bodies of five teenaged girls. He’d been keeping them prisoner. Beardsley said he thought there were maybe a dozen in all. Granville began to move them, but he didn’t have time to move them all. He killed the ones he left behind.”
Daniel tried to swallow, but couldn’t. Alex slipped another ice chip in his mouth, but this time it didn’t help. “One of the girls got away, with Bailey’s help. She’s unconscious, so we don’t have any details yet. Luke said he recognized one of the dead girls from the work that he was doing before.” She sighed wearily. “I guess he can’t forget their faces any more than you could forget the faces in Simon’s pictures. One of the girls we found was featured on one of the child-porn sites Luke’s team shut down eight months ago.”
Daniel’s stomach rolled. “God.”
“We were an hour too late.” Alex stroked his hand lightly. “Daniel, before he died, Granville said he taught Simon, that there were others, then he said, ‘I was another’s.’ ”
“Who were the others?”
“He never said.”
“Mack O’Brien?”
“Chase’s team found where he’d been living.”
“At the warehouses Rob Davis built on O’Brien land?”
“You’re half right. He’d been living in one of the warehouses the printer of the
Review
used for storage. Delia’s car was equipped with GPS and Chase’s people followed the signal and found all the other cars Mack kept. Luke found e-mails on Mack’s computer. He was planning to sell Delia’s Porsche, Janet’s Z, and Claudia’s Mercedes. He’d repainted Gemma’s ’Vette. Apparently he was going to keep it.”
“Wait. Mack was in a warehouse where they stored copies of the
Review
? Why?”
“He worked for the
Review.
Daniel, Mack was the paperboy. He stood on my front porch talking to me Tuesday morning, just as pleasant as you please.”
Daniel’s gut tightened at the thought of Mack O’Brien that close to her. “Shit. And nobody recognized him?” he asked hoarsely.
“Marianne hired him. She did all the admin for the paper. She’d never met him. Mack would have been just a little boy when you all were in high school. He delivered the papers when most people were asleep, and the rest of the time he just drove around in Marianne’s delivery van, watching. Mack did a lot of watching.”
“Who?”
“He watched all of them. He’s got pictures of Garth going into Bailey’s house, Mansfield delivering girls to Granville’s bunker, Mansfield —”
“Wait. Mansfield was involved in
that
?”
“Yeah. We don’t know how yet, but he was part of Granville’s business.”
Daniel closed his eyes. “Fuck. I mean . . . God, Alex.”
“I know,” she murmured. “For what it’s worth, it looks like Frank wasn’t. He got a text message yesterday morning telling him where he’d find Bailey. He thought it was from Marianne, but it was from Mack’s cell phone.”
“But Frank still falsified evidence in Gary Fulmore’s murder trial.” His voice was a dry croak, and Alex fed him another ice chip with a look of reproach.
“Use the pad and pen. Yes, Frank did falsify evidence then, but I don’t think he meant to betray you yesterday. Bailey said Frank helped her get away.”
There was some comfort in that, Daniel supposed. But still . . . “I wish I knew
why
. I need to know
why
.”
“Maybe he was protecting someone. Maybe he was being blackmailed.” She smoothed a hand over his cheek. “Wait until you’re strong again. You’ll investigate and hopefully come up with some answers.”
Hopefully. Daniel knew he might never know Frank’s reason, but he had to believe Frank had one. “What else?”
Alex sighed. “Mansfield hired Lester Jackson, the guy who ran me down and who killed Sheila and that young Dutton officer at Presto’s Pizza. Chase found a disposable cell in Mansfield’s pocket. The phone number matches the incoming calls to Lester Jackson’s cell phone the day he tried to kill me.”
“Journals?”
“Chase found them with Mack’s things. Everything Annette said was right. Mack had been following Garth and Rob Davis and Mansfield for a month. I think he wasn’t sure who the seventh guy was either, because he had pictures of a lot of the men in town at the beginning. But then he saw Granville standing outside the bunker and from then on, all the pictures were only of Toby, Garth, Randy, and Rob Davis. Rob was having an affair with Delia, so I guess Mack figured killing her was a double bonus. He got revenge on Delia for maligning his mother and hurt Rob Davis even more.
“Mack had pictures of Mansfield killing Rhett Porter.” She hesitated. “And he had pictures of me and of us.” Her face heated. “He was outside your house Thursday night in his van. He took pictures of us, through your window. It doesn’t appear that he uploaded them. Or anything.” She shrugged. “He wanted me to close the circle.”
