Suddenly, that seemed the natural place to be. “Thank you.”
Dr. Berg squeezed her arm. “Take care. And all those loud guys? They’d go to the wall for you, just because you’re Daniel’s sister. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask them. I’d say you could ask me, but…” She sobered. “I have a job to do.”
So do I. It was why she’d boarded a plane that morning. She still needed to give her statement regarding the rapes thirteen years before. Everyone had been so focused on the events of the bunker, there hadn’t been time to discuss events of the past. But before she spoke with the state’s attorney, she needed to call her boss in New York. Her involvement would likely make the news. He deserved to hear about it from her and not CNN. “Your job may be the hardest of all, Dr. Berg.”
“No. Luke’s will be. Once we identify all the victims, he’ll have to tell their families that their daughters are never coming home. The chapel’s on the third floor.”
Friday, February 2, 7:00 p.m.
I have to get out of here. Ashley Csorka clutched the towel around her body. She was no longer in the concrete hellhole, but this was no better. It was a house, but it was a prison just the same. There were no windows in this room. There weren’t even any air vents, even if she’d been small enough to fit into one, which she wasn’t. The house had to be a hundred years old. The bathtub was old and cracked, but surprisingly clean.
She was clean now, dammit. The woman had forced her to bathe. Ashley’s dad had always told her if she was attacked to throw up on herself-it was one way to deter a would-be rapist. When they’d been shoved into the boat she hadn’t needed to force her stomach to spew-she’d never been able to tolerate boats. Her father had always found that strange, seeing as how she was such a strong swimmer.
Dad. Ashley struggled not to cry. Her dad would be looking for her. But he’d never find her here. I’m sorry, Daddy. I should have listened to you. All his restrictions and rules now seemed so right. But now it was too late.
They’ll whore me. I’ll die here. No. Don’t give up. She made herself think of her dad and little brother. They needed her. Her team needed her. A sob rose in her throat. I’m not supposed to be here. I’m supposed to go to the Olympics.
So find a way out. Any way out.
Someone was looking for them. She’d heard the woman talking to the crazy doctor. Someone named Vartanian had been coming with the state cops. Please find us.
She had first wakened from that drugged sleep chained to the wall like an animal. But she’d managed to leave something behind, scratched into the metal cot frame at some personal cost. She ran her tongue over her teeth, felt the raw edge of her broken incisor. Please find my name. Tell my dad I’m still alive. And find me. Find all of us, before it’s too late.
Chapter Five
Dutton, Friday, February 2, 7:45 p.m.
Luke stood at the door to the bunker, ignoring the reporters’ shouts for a comment. TV news vans parked along the road and a helicopter made sweeps of the area.
Chase Wharton would be giving a press conference in less than an hour in which he’d relate all the events of the day, including the murders of the five dead teenagers and the abductions of the unidentified others. Until then, they’d maintained radio silence on everything but the capture and death of O’Brien, Granville, Mansfield, and Loomis, as well as the unidentified guard Luke had found at the far end of the bunker.
Five dead, guilty men. Five dead innocent girls. His mama would say the numbers were an omen. He wasn’t entirely sure she’d be wrong.
But they’d had some luck, managing to get the helicopter bearing Daniel and the girl off to Atlanta before the first reporter arrived. They hoped to keep the surviving Jane Doe’s existence under wraps until she woke and told them exactly what had happened.
After the press conference, they’d move the bodies of the five teens to the morgue and the media would be like rabid dogs. Luckily Chase was handling the media. Luke always came too close to telling them all to fuck off, and that wouldn’t do.
“You can go in, Agent Papadopoulos,” the officer guarding the door said. He was a state trooper, one of many called in to maintain security.
“Thanks. I’m trying to work up the energy.” More like the nerve. They were still in there, waiting. Five dead girls. You have to face them. But he didn’t want to.
The trooper’s face creased in sympathy. “Any news on Agent Vartanian?”
“He’s okay.” Alex had called him with the news. So get in there and get this done. It had been three hours since he’d first entered the bunker. In that time they’d moved the dead men to the morgue. They’d fielded questions from reporters who still thought the capture and killing of Mack O’Brien was the day’s big story. How little they knew.
Hell. Mack O’Brien was old news by now. But in a twisted way, it was O’Brien who had blown the lid off Granville and his depravity, both now and thirteen years before.
He still stood at the bunker door. Stop procrastinating, Papa.
Which of course he was. Every time he closed his eyes he could see Angel’s dead eyes staring. He didn’t want to see her again. But rarely did Luke get what he wanted. He’d opened the bunker door when his cell rang. “Papadopoulos,” he said.
“I know,” the familiar voice said dryly. “You said you would call. You never called.”
Luke thought of his mother sitting by the phone, waiting for word on Daniel, who she considered her adopted son. “I’m sorry, Mama. I’ve been a little busy. Daniel’s fine.”
“Well, that I now know, no thanks to you,” she said mildly, and he knew she wasn’t angry. “Demi finally came to get the children and I drove myself to the hospital.”
“You did? On the highway?” His mother was terrified of I-75 during rush hour.
“I did. On the highway,” she affirmed, sounding pleased with herself. “I am sitting in the ICU waiting room with Daniel’s Alex. She’s strong, no? She’ll be good for Daniel.”
“I think so, too. So what did the doctor tell you, exactly?”
“He said Daniel is in the ICU, but stable, and you can visit him tomorrow.”
“That’s good. How will you get home, Mama?” She didn’t drive well at night.
“Your brother will come get me when he closes up his store for the night. You do what you need to do, Luka, and do not worry about your mama. Bye-bye.”
You do what you need to do. “Wait. Have you seen Daniel’s sister yet?”
“Of course. I met her at her parents’ funeral last week.”
“No, I mean she’s there, right now, in the hospital.”
“She is hurt, too?” his mother asked, alarmed.
“No, Mama. She may be waiting with another patient who was also hurt today.”
“But Daniel is her brother,” she said, her ire clearly up now. “She should be here.”
Luke thought of the expression on Susannah’s face when they’d loaded Daniel into the helicopter. She’d looked stricken and conflicted. And so incredibly alone.
“It’s a little more complicated than that, Mama.”
“Complicated! There’s nothing compli- Oh, wait.” Her voice abruptly slid from outraged to approving. “Alex has told me Daniel’s sister is in the chapel. That is good.”
Luke’s brows lifted. Somehow the thought of Susannah Vartanian in a chapel didn’t quite click. “Make sure she knows about Daniel, please.”