“Sheriff, I’d like to talk to Officer Larkin and have him take me down to the body the same way he approached earlier. I know he’ll do a thorough report, but I’d like to get his memory and impressions straight from him.”
“Sure. He’s stationed down the road, keeping curiosity seekers back.” Corchran radioed Larkin and in less than five minutes the officer had joined them. Larkin’s face was still a little pale, but his eyes were clear. In his hand he held a piece of paper.
“My report, Agent Vartanian. But there is one other thing. I just remembered it when I was driving back here. There was a murder just like this not far from here.”
Corchran’s brows shot up. “Where? When?”
“Before you got here,” Larkin replied. “It was thirteen years ago this April. A girl was found in a ditch just like this. She was wrapped in a brown blanket, and she’d been raped and suffocated.” He swallowed. “And her face had been beaten in, just like this.”
Daniel felt a chill race down his spine. “You seem to remember it clearly, Officer.”
Larkin looked pained. “The girl was sixteen, same age as my own daughter at the time. I don’t remember the girl’s name, but it happened outside of Dutton, which is about twenty-five miles east of here.”
The chill spread and Daniel clenched his body against a shiver. “I know where Dutton is,” he said. He knew Dutton well. He’d walked its streets, shopped in its stores, played Little League on its team. He also knew that evil had lived in Dutton and had borne the Vartanian name. Dutton, Georgia, was Daniel Vartanian’s hometown.
Larkin nodded as he put Daniel’s name with current events. “I expect you do.”
“Thank you, Officer,” Daniel said, managing to keep his voice level. “I’ll look into it as soon as possible. For now, let’s go take a look at Jane Doe.”
Dutton , Georgia , Sunday, January 28, 9:05 p.m.
Alex closed the bedroom door, then leaned against it, drained. “She’s finally asleep,” she murmured to her cousin Meredith, who sat on the sofa in the adjoining sitting room of Alex’s hotel room.
Meredith looked up from her study of the pages and pages of the coloring books four-year-old Hope Crighton had filled since Alex had taken custody of her niece from the social worker thirty-six hours before. “Then we need to talk,” she said softly.
There was concern in Meredith’s eyes. Coming from a pediatric psychologist who specialized in emotionally traumatized children, this only intensified Alex’s dread.
Alex sat down. “I appreciate you coming. I know you’re busy with your patients.”
“I can get someone to take care of my patients for a day or two. I would have been here yesterday had you told me you were coming, because I would have been sitting on the plane right next to you.” There was frustration and hurt in Meredith’s voice. “What were you thinking, Alex? Coming down here all by yourself. Of all places… here.”
Here. Dutton, Georgia. The name made Alex’s stomach churn. It was the last place she’d ever wanted to come back to. But the churning in her stomach was nothing compared to the fear she’d felt when she’d first looked into Hope’s blank gray eyes.
“I don’t know,” Alex admitted. “I should have known better. But Mer, I had no idea it would be this bad, but it is as bad as I think, isn’t it?”
“From what I’ve seen in the last three hours? Yes. Whether her traumatizing event was waking up to find her mother gone on Friday or the years that came before that, I can’t say. I don’t know what Hope was like before Bailey disappeared.” Meredith frowned. “But she’s nothing like I expected her to be.”
“I know. I’d prepared myself for a dirty, malnourished child. I mean, the last time I saw Bailey, she was really bad, Meredith. High and dirty. Track marks on both arms. I’ve always wondered if I could have done something more.”
Meredith lifted an auburn brow. “So here you are?”
“No. Well, maybe it started that way, but as soon as I saw Hope, all that changed.” She thought of the little girl with the golden curls and Botticelli angel face. And empty gray eyes. “I thought for a moment they’d brought me the wrong child. She’s clean and well-fed. Her clothes and shoes were like new.”
“The social worker would have given her clean clothes and shoes.”
“Those were the clothes the social worker took from Hope’s preschool. Hope’s teacher said Bailey always kept a clean set in Hope’s cubby. They said Bailey was a good mom, Mer. They were shocked when the social worker told them Bailey had disappeared. The school director said Bailey would never leave Hope alone like that.”
Meredith lifted her brows. “Does she suspect foul play?”
“Yeah, the preschool director did. She told that to the cops.”
“So what do the cops say?”
Alex clenched her teeth. “That they’re following every lead, but that junkies disappear every day. It was a standard ‘leave us alone’ response. I couldn’t get anywhere with them on the phone. They just ignored me. She’s been gone three days and they haven’t declared her a missing person yet.”
“Junkies do disappear, Alex.”
“I know that. But why would the preschool director lie?”
“Maybe she didn’t. Maybe Bailey was a good actress or maybe she had a good spell of sobriety but went back on the juice. For now, let’s focus on Hope. You said the social worker told you she’d been coloring all night?”
“Yes. Nancy Barker, she’s the social worker, said it was all Hope had done since they’d taken her from the closet.” The closet in Bailey’s house. Panic began to well, as it did every time she thought of that house. “Bailey still lives there.”
Meredith’s eyes widened. “Really? I thought it would have been sold years ago.”
“No. I checked the property records online. The deed’s still in Craig’s name.” The pressure in Alex’s chest increased and she closed her eyes, focusing on quieting her mind. Meredith’s hand closed over hers and squeezed.
“You okay, kid?”
“Yeah.” Alex shook herself. “Stupid, these panic attacks. I should be past this.”
“Because you’re superhuman,” Meredith said blandly. “This place was the site of the worst disaster of your life, so stop beating yourself up for being all too human, Alex.”
Alex shrugged, then frowned. “Nancy Barker said the house was a mess, piles of trash on the floor. The mattresses were old and torn. There was rotten food in the fridge.”
“That I would expect from a junkie’s house.”
“Yes, but they found no clothes for Hope or Bailey. None. Clean or dirty.”
Meredith frowned. “Based on what the preschool said, that is surprising.” She hesitated. “Did you go to the house?”
“No.” The word shot from Alex’s lips like the crack of a bullet. “No,” she said more evenly. “I haven’t. Yet.”
“When you do, I’ll go with you. No arguments. Is Craig still there?”
Focus on the quiet. “No. Nancy Barker said they tried to locate him, but nobody’s heard from him in a long time. I was listed as the emergency contact at the preschool.”
“How did the social worker know where Hope went to pre-school?”
“Bailey’s coworker told her. That’s how they found Hope-Bailey hadn’t shown up to work and her coworker was worried and went to check on her during her break.”
“Where does Bailey work?”
“She’s a hairdresser, apparently in a pretty upscale salon.”
Meredith blinked. “Dutton has an upscale salon?”
“No. Dutton has Angie’s.” Her mother used to go to Angie’s every other Monday. “Bailey worked in Atlanta. I got the coworker’s phone number, but she hasn’t been home. I left messages.”