“Stable. The team that worked on him downstairs got to him quickly and that’s in his favor. Plus, he’s in good physical condition. He’s up here primarily for observation.”
And for the guard. “Does that mean he’ll go back to a regular room?”
Ella nodded. “Yes, but when he does, we’ll be sure to tell you first.”
“Thanks. Please call me if there’s any change in condition on any of our patients up here.” Luke went into Beardsley’s cubicle. “Ryan, it’s Luke Papadopoulos. Can you hear me?” Beardsley’s eyes opened and Luke was relieved to see he was coherent. “Agent Haywood said you wanted to talk to me. You could have talked to him. I trust him.”
“I didn’t know him,” Beardsley said, so faintly Luke had trouble hearing him. “Someone tried to kill me. Under the circumstances, I thought it best I wait for you.”
Luke leaned closer. “I suppose I can understand that. So what did you recall?”
“A phone call that Granville got on the third day. From somebody named Rocky.”
“Rocky?” Luke murmured. “Like the fighter?”
“Yes. Rocky was a boss, gave Granville orders. Made the doc very unhappy.”
Luke’s pulse shot up. Finally. “Granville didn’t like getting orders from this Rocky?”
“No. Made him angry. He beat me harder.”
“What order did Rocky give Granville that he didn’t like?”
“Don’t know, but when he hung up he said he wouldn’t take orders from ‘a little shit.’ ”
“Okay. That’s helpful, Ryan. Did you hear anything else?”
Beardsley’s face grew grim. “Yeah. The first day I was there, I woke up and heard noises outside my wall. On the outside, not in the hall. Sounded like digging. Burying.”
Luke got a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Burying something or someone?”
“Someone.” Beardsley’s gaze was weary. “One of the men called her Becky.”
“Hell.” Luke sighed. “Anything else?”
“No. That’s all I remember.”
“Can I get you anything? Do anything for you?”
Beardsley didn’t respond at first. Then, just when Luke had thought he’d drifted back into sleep, he murmured, “BBQ. I’m so hungry I could eat the whole pig myself.”
“When you’re out of here, I’ll bring you all you can eat.” He got up to go, but Beardsley grabbed his arm.
“Is Bailey okay?” he asked, serious again.
“Bailey’s fine. I put a guard on her door. Don’t worry.” He squeezed Beardsley’s hand and went back out to the nurse’s station. “He wants a barbecue sandwich.”
Ella nodded. “It’s always a good sign when they start asking for food.”
“Can you tell me where I can find the head of security?”
Luke was headed for the elevator when his cell phone buzzed in his pocket.
“It’s Chase. We have a match on one of the homicides. Kasey Knight. Sixteen, five-eight, red hair.” He hesitated. “The one that only weighed eighty pounds.”
The one he’d found Malcolm Zuckerman crying over as he’d gently bagged her hands and feet. The one whose red hair had come out in Malcolm’s hands. Luke cleared his throat. “Have her parents been notified?”
“Yes. I just got off the phone with the father.” Luke could hear Chase draw an unsteady breath. “I asked them to bring her hairbrush or some other DNA source. They, um, they want to see her.”
“God, Chase. They don’t want to see her. They really don’t.”
“It’s closure,” Chase said. “You know that as well as I do. They won’t believe their daughter’s dead until they see her for themselves. She’s been gone two years, Luke.”
Two years of waiting, agonizing. Hoping for the best and visualizing the very worst. “I’m on my way to the morgue. I’ll ask Felicity Berg if she can make her look any better. I’ve got news, too. We have a potential sixth homicide.”
“Aw, Christ,” Chase muttered wearily. “Who?”
“Only a first name. Becky. Have Ed’s team check for a body buried in the area outside the cell where Ryan Beardsley was being held.”
Chase’s sigh was heavy. “Do we know there’s only one?”
“I thought the same thing. Have them do a scan before they start digging.”
“God, this gets better every hour.”
There was dread in Chase’s voice. And grief. “What happened?”
“Zach Granger’s dead.”
Luke felt the air leave his lungs. “But it was just an eye injury.”
“He had a brain hemorrhage about an hour ago. His wife was with him.”
“But… I was just in the hospital. Nobody told me.”
“We’re keeping it quiet.”
“Does Pete know?”
“No, not yet. Don’t tell him. I will.”
“He’s on his way to meet with the fire investigator in Dutton.”
Chase’s oath was hoarse and vile. “I wish I’d never heard of that damn town.”
“Join the ever-growing club. But we do have a lead on Granville’s partner. Beardsley heard Granville talking to some guy named Rocky.”
“That’s delightfully vague,” Chase said bitterly.
“It’s better than we had an hour ago. I’ll see you at eight. I’m going to the morgue.”
Chapter Nine
Atlanta , Saturday, February 3, 6:00 a.m.
Ma’am? We’re here. Ma’am? This is the airport. Ma’am?”
Susannah woke up, momentarily disoriented. She’d fallen asleep, finally. Too bad that it had been in the backseat of a taxicab and not in her hotel bed. “I’m sorry. I’ve had a long night.” She paid him and slid from the backseat. “Thank you.”
“No luggage?”
“No, I’m actually here to rent a car.”
“You’ll have to take a shuttle to any of the rental car joints.”
“I wasn’t thinking.” When she’d left her hotel room, she’d had one purpose-to escape the faces of the hundreds of runaways she’d been searching for nearly three hours. But there was no escape. She still saw the faces, some happy, some miserable.
All gone. What a waste. Of potential. Of hope. Of life.
She’d started out comparing each face to M. Jane Doe, but at some point her mind had wandered and she realized it was Darcy Williams’s face she saw in each picture.
Rattled, she’d pushed away from her computer. She’d needed a break and a car if she was going to get to Dutton for Sheila Cunningham’s funeral. So here she was.
“I can drive you there,” the cabbie said. “Get back in.”
She got back in, shivering. “Thank you.”
“It’s okay.” The cabbie was quiet as he drove the short distance to the rental car row. But when he stopped the cab, he sighed loudly. “Lady, this ain’t none of my business, but I think you gotta right to know. We’ve had a tail since we left the hotel.”
Annoyance had her frowning. Another reporter. “What kind of car?”
“Black sedan, tinted windows.”
“How original,” she said tightly and he glanced up in his rearview mirror.
“I just thought… maybe you were running from somebody.”
Only from myself. “I don’t think they’re dangerous. Probably just a reporter.”
He squinted at her as he took her money. “Are you some kind of a celebrity?”
“No, but thank you for telling me they’re back there. It was kind of you.”
“I got a daughter your age. She travels all the time for her job and I worry.”
Susannah smiled at him. “Then she’s a lucky girl. Take care.”
As he drove away she looked back. Sure enough, the black sedan hovered back, but definitely close enough to be seen. She’d turned to go inside the rental car office, when the sedan began to move, slowly. Susannah backed up, one step, then two, then stopped. The sedan wasn’t stopping. Instead, it continued by at a slow roll, and a shiver of apprehension raced down her spine.