Charlotte, North Carolina, Saturday, February 3, 9:35 p.m.
Harry Grimes knocked on the door of Nicole Shafer, the third name on the list of friends Genie Cassidy’s mother had given him. The door was opened by a young girl. Harry held up his badge. “I’m Special Agent Harry Grimes. Are your parents home?”
“Mom,” she called, and her mother appeared, wiping her hand on a dishrag.
“Can we help you?” she asked, and he showed her his badge.
“I’m investigating the disappearance of Genie Cassidy.”
The mother frowned. “I heard she ran away.”
“No, ma’am. We believe she was abducted. I’d really appreciate the opportunity to ask your daughter a few questions.”
“Of course. Come in.” He was led to a family room where Mr. Shafer watched TV. “Turn off the TV, Oliver. This man is from the state police. Please sit, Agent Grimes.”
Harry did, keeping his gaze on Nicole, whose gaze was fixed on her feet. “Nicole, Genie was chatting online with a boy named Jason. Did you know this?”
Nicole looked at her parents nervously. “Yes. But she didn’t want her mom to know. Her mom was so totally overprotective. Genie had, like, no life. Really, Mom.”
“Did you know her sister Monica also disappeared after talking to a boy named Jason?” Harry asked, and Nicole nodded.
“Half the boys in our class are named Jason,” she said. “It’s a common name.”
“Do you know where Genie planned to meet him?”
Nicole drew a breath, held it. “Niki,” her father said harshly. “If you know, tell him.”
Nicole let the breath out. “Mel’s. It’s a diner.”
“I know it,” Harry said, then leaned forward. “Nicole, do you chat with Jason?”
She looked at her purple fingernails. “Sometimes. Sometimes if I was with Genie, she’d let me talk to him. Jason was cool. Told her she was pretty.”
“Did he ask you to meet him?” Harry asked.
She nodded. “But I was afraid. Genie said we should go together, but I got scared.”
“Oh God,” Mrs. Shafer breathed, horrified. “Niki. That could have been you.”
Nicole’s eyes filled with tears. “Is she really missing? Like kidnapped?”
Harry nodded. “We think so. Be careful, Niki. The world presented by guys online is rarely accurate. Sometimes it’s even dangerous.”
“You’ll find her, won’t you?” Niki asked, crying now.
“We’re sure gonna try. Tell me, does he IM you at a certain time or do you IM him?”
“He IMs me. He’s a college boy.” She hesitated. “He thinks I’m in college, too.”
“I’m going to need all your screen names and passwords,” Harry said, his pulse accelerating. If they played their cards right, they might trap the SOB. “And I need your promise that you’ll say nothing about this. I don’t want your friends tipping him off.”
“So I can tell people you came to question me and I told you nothing?”
Harry’s lips twitched at the hopeful note in her voice. “Sure. Be cool.”
Mr. Shafer quelled his daughter’s hope with a look. “I want your phone. You’re technologically grounded, young lady.”
Nicole started to protest, then closed her mouth, pulling her phone from her pocket and putting it in her father’s outstretched hand. “It could have been me,” she said quietly.
Mr. Shafer pulled her to him in a hard hug. “Thanks,” he said to Harry over his daughter’s head. “Anything you need, just ask.”
Atlanta, Sunday, February 4, 12:15 a.m.
It was the weeping that woke him. Luke blinked at the light he’d left on in his living room, feeling like he had a hangover even though he’d consumed no wine. He’d been wide awake after that disaster of a kiss, blaming himself every which way he could.
Finally he’d turned his churning mind to “Bobby.” Every major player in this case had come from Dutton so that’s where he searched, coming up with a list of Dutton residents named Bobby. Then, too exhausted to think anymore, he’d e-mailed the list to Chase and closed his eyes. He’d been asleep four hours and might have slept longer, but for the weeping. He wondered if he’d imagined it. Sometimes he dreamed the weeping.
But tonight it was real. He heard it again, muffled and quiet. Finding his bedroom door ajar, he peeked in and felt lower than shit. Swallowed whole by his old sweats, Susannah sat on the floor, her arms wrapped around Borenson’s ugly bulldog. Her shoulders shook as she cried and he scooped her into his arms and sat on the bed.
He thought she would fight him, but instead she grabbed handfuls of his shirt and held on. Just like she had when he’d held her in front of the ER.
He threaded his fingers through the hair at her nape and cradled her head in his palm. After a time, she quieted, her sobs becoming sniffles. She tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her go. “Just rest,” he said quietly.
“I’ve cried more today than I have in my whole life combined.”
“My sister Demi says she feels better after a good cry. You should feel on top of the world right now.” He pressed a kiss to her head. “Why were you crying?”
“The hospital’s call about our test results.”
It took him a second. Then he tensed, his gut turning to ice. Jane Doe’s blood. Their HIV tests. “Positive?” he asked, keeping his voice as neutral as he could.
She pulled back, her eyes wide. “No. Negative. I thought you got a call, too.”
“If I did, it went to voicemail.” He let out a shaky breath. “Whoa. You scared me.”
“I’m sorry. I thought you were awake because they just called you.”
“I’m awake because I heard you crying. It’s negative. We’re okay. Why the tears?”
She puffed out her cheeks. “It’s hard to explain.”
“Try,” he said dryly.
She looked away. “I think you’re a very nice man.”
Luke’s brows went up. “So you cry your eyes out? That doesn’t make sense.”
“I’m trying to explain. It’s just that you’re the first man who’s paid attention to me. The first decent man. You’re kind and interesting, smart, engaging, and…”
“Handsome?” he supplied hopefully. “Sinfully sexy?”
She laughed, as he’d hoped she would. “Yes.” Then her smile dimmed. “A woman would be a fool not to be flattered.” She shrugged. “Or interested.”
“Or attracted?”
She looked down. “Yes. So when I got the call from the hospital, my first thought was, ‘Yay, I’m not going to die.’ My second was, ‘Yay, now I can have Luke.’ ”
He cleared his throat. “Define ‘have.’ ”
She sighed. “You know what I meant. But I can’t have you.”
“Because of your evil past. Susannah, for a smart woman, that is the most singularly stupid logic I’ve ever heard.”
She gritted her teeth. “It’s not stupid.”
“It’s not smart,” he said, exasperated. “If a rape victim came to you with that story, you’d fishslap her and tell her to get therapy and have a life. You know I’m right.”
She drew a breath. “I would not fishslap her.”
“Fine. But you would tell her to have a life. This guilt you carry around is wrong.”
She was quiet. “It’s not just the guilt.”
“So what else is it?”
“I can’t do it,” she said between her teeth.
“Yes, you can. You can tell me. I’m engaging and kind.”
“I can’t do it. Sex,” she snapped, then closed her eyes. “God. This is humiliating.”
Luke mentally backed away, then tiptoed back. “There’s a… physical issue?”
“No.” She covered her eyes with her hands. “Let me go. Please.”
“No. Tell me. You want me, you’ve all but said it. Wouldn’t you like to fix whatever problem you have, so then you could have me?”