“Because,” she snapped, then her shoulders sagged. “You want my soul, Agent Papadopoulos?” she asked wearily, and for once he didn’t correct her. “Fine. God knows I don’t deserve it. More importantly, no decent man deserves it either.”
“Am I decent?” he asked softly.
“I’m afraid so, Luke,” she said, so sadly it broke his heart.
“So you’ll be alone forever? Is that the penance you’ll pay?”
“Yes.”
Luke shook his head, unwilling to accept it. “That’s wrong, Susannah. You’re paying for something that was done to you. You were the victim.”
“You don’t know what I was,” she said bitterly.
“Then tell me. Talk to me.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to know. I want to help you.” He sucked in a breath. “I want to know you. Dammit.” His hands clenched the steering wheel, kneading it. “The first time I saw you… I wanted to… know you.” He, normally good with the words women wanted to hear, was stumbling. “I wanted you,” he finished quietly.
She said nothing for a long moment. “You don’t want me, Luke. Trust me.”
“Because you had a one-night stand? So the fuck what?”
“Not one,” she whispered so softly he nearly missed it. Then she swallowed hard. “I really don’t want to talk to you anymore. This is hard enough. Please.”
It was the desperate tremble in her voice that made him stop pushing her. “All right. Will you dial the number Leigh gave you?”
She did, and he talked to Mr. Csorka, who planned to leave right away from Florida, bringing DNA samples from his daughter Ashley. Luke was hoping for his first positive ID on one of the missing girls. Mr. Csorka would arrive sometime after six this evening.
Luke went over every detail of the case in his mind, trying to fill the silence in the car, but every few minutes he’d glance at her, wishing he knew what to say. In the end, he honored her request, and said nothing. When they arrived at the hospital in Atlanta, he hoped she’d say something, but she closed her laptop without a word and walked away.
Feeling very sad and helpless, he let her.
He’d parked so he could go in and visit Daniel, but his cell buzzed again.
“Luke, it’s Nate. I’ve been looking at the pictures on Mansfield’s computer.”
Luke felt a spear of guilt. “I’m so sorry to have left you with this, Nate. I’ve got time before Kasey Knight’s parents arrive. Let me talk to Daniel and then I’ll come help you.”
“Actually, I found something,” Nate said, his voice energized. “Come now.”
Chapter Thirteen
Atlanta, Saturday, February 3, 1:25 p.m.
Susannah had intended to go straight to Jane Doe, but her feet slowed as she walked past Daniel’s room. He was alone, awake, and propped up on the pillows.
Their eyes locked, his intensely blue. She didn’t know what to say or what he’d do. Then he held out his hand and the dam inside her burst. Stumbling forward she grabbed his hand and he pulled her close. Burying her face against his shoulder, she wept.
Awkwardly he brushed her hair and she realized he was crying, too.
“I’m so sorry, Suze,” he rasped. “I can’t go back. I can’t change what I did.”
“Neither can I.”
“You didn’t do anything,” he said fiercely. “I should have protected you.”
“And I should have told you,” she murmured, and he went still.
“Why didn’t you?” he whispered, his voice anguished. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Simon told me not to. He told me that you were gone and…” She shrugged. “Simon said lots of other things. He liked to play mind games.”
“I know. Just like Dad.” He sighed. “I should have guessed. Both of them were always so much crueler to you. When I took care of you, it seemed to get worse.”
“So you stayed away,” she murmured.
“I shouldn’t have.”
I forgive you. Say it. Say the words. But they stuck in her throat. “It’s done, Daniel,” she said instead. “I understand.” It was the best she could do.
She rose, averting her face as she searched for tissues. She wiped her face, then sat next to his bed. Then she winced. “Yikes. The nurses are going to be mad at me.”
He smiled weakly. Her makeup had stained his hospital gown and the red clay from her dress had streaked the sheets. “You’re dirty, kid.”
“I fell down, kind of. I went to Sheila Cunningham’s funeral.”
He blinked in surprise. “You did?” he asked, and she nodded.
“I met Gretchen French. She sends her regards and her thanks.” She lifted one shoulder. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she stops in after they finish with her in the ER.”
His eyes widened. “Gretchen’s in the ER?”
She told him what had happened and he was stunned. “My God. Kate Davis helped us find Mack O’Brien. She told us Garth’s wife had split with the kids because she was afraid for her life. I thought with Mack and the others dead she’d be safe, but now…”
“I guess Kate took issue with us accusing Garth. Daniel, I need to say some things and I need you to listen. Yesterday I told you that you didn’t know what I was.”
“I know. I didn’t understand then. I still don’t.”
“I’m going to tell you and if you want me to go, I will. But I realized standing next to Sheila’s grave that if you’d died yesterday, I would be all alone. I don’t want to be.”
“I won’t leave you again,” he said harshly.
One side of her mouth lifted sadly. “Well, let’s see how you feel when you hear the story. You’d hear it all from Luke at some point, but I’d rather you hear it from me.”
Atlanta, Saturday, February 3, 1:25 p.m.
Luke found Nate Dyer in The Room, the place they used to view the vile material that made decent people gag. Am I decent? he heard himself ask Susannah.
I’m afraid so, Luke. And she thought she wasn’t, because she’d done a one-night stand. Or more. He’d get her to tell it, if for no other reason than for her to hear a decent person tell her that she wasn’t hopeless. That she did deserve her soul.
But Susannah would have to wait. No matter how long he’d put this off, Luke had known he’d return to The Room as soon as he’d recognized Angel’s face yesterday.
The Room was windowless, with one door. Only those with a need to know, a need to see, were admitted. Luke wished he didn’t have the combination as he punched in the code. He’d spent far too many hours here. And a little more of you dies each day.
Yeah. Steeling his spine, Luke pushed the door open. “Hey, Nate.”
Nate looked up, no smile on his face. “You need to sit down for this.”
Luke did, preparing for the sick twisting of his stomach that occurred every time he opened a new Web page or viewed a new collection of obscenity. All the preparation, though, never made it easier. “Okay. I’m ready.”
“I’ve only started looking at the material from Deputy Mansfield’s computer,” Nate said. “The guy had five external hard drives, Papa. Each drive is five hundred gig.”
“Hundreds of thousands of pictures,” Luke murmured.
“This stash will keep us busy for months. The computer forensics guys imaged all the hard drives and I picked up the copies just a few hours ago. Mansfield’s hard drives are organized. A lot of the folder names are phrases. He’d marked one ‘Fine Young American Flesh, Inc.’ This is what I found inside.”
Luke sat in front of Nate’s computer and began scrolling through the pictures. Each was a girl, provocatively posed. Each was nude and each held a small American flag in one hand and in the other, a symbol of the state from which she came.