I See You (Criminal Profiler 4)

He looked at the angled jaw of a man wearing sunglasses and a hat. “Nondescript and unusable.”

“I usually spend hours, not minutes, with a witness. Give me some time later tonight, and maybe I can refine this a little.”

“I can leak it to the media that we have a sketch,” he said.

“It was a hot day,” she said. “Someone might have noticed him, and if you can find any surveillance footage, I can use elements of the images to create a full picture if none capture his entire face.”

“Lots of limited options.” Vaughan received a text from Hughes. Pollard arrived at the station. Foster has recanted. Claims medications confused him. He showed it to Spencer. And then read Hughes’s next text. “Pollard heard from Neil’s mother about Skylar. He’s now arguing that we coerced Foster’s confession.”

“He came to us,” Spencer said.

“Pollard claims we lured him to the station on the pretense we had information about his daughter. Pain and stress, coupled with those medications, jumbled his client’s thoughts, and nothing he says is admissible.”

“I’ve seen some clever legal maneuvering over the years, but that is one of the best.”

“He’ll be out in less than an hour.”

“That’ll give us a chance to speak to Skylar before he can catch up with her and they can get their stories straight.”

Zoe and Vaughan arrived at the emergency room and made their way through the maze of curtained-off exam rooms, toward the uniformed officer who stood outside of Skylar’s room.

“Let me talk to her alone,” Zoe said. “I want to ask her about the man who attacked her mother. I’m curious how much detail she can provide.”

“Sure.”

Zoe pushed back the curtains and found the young girl lying in bed. She was hooked up to an IV, and her hand had been bandaged. She had the channel selector in her other hand and was flipping through channels every other second.

“Skylar,” Zoe said. “How are you doing?”

The girl did not take her gaze off the screen. “I want to get out of here and go home.”

“You can’t go home,” she said. “They’ll be releasing you in the morning. When you do leave, would you be willing to stay at the Bradford house?”

She drew in a breath. “Yes. I like the Bradfords. They’re normal.”

“And your family was not,” Zoe countered.

“Yeah, you could say that,” the girl said.

“Why’s that?”

Blue eyes glinted. “My mother was stabbed to death. Duh.”

“Before the stabbing,” Zoe said. “What wasn’t right about your family?”

“Both my parents were cheating on each other. That’s kind of sick. They said they loved each other, but they couldn’t have. I love Neil and would never cheat on him.”

“He seems devoted to you.”

She clicked the channel selector through several more stations. “He is devoted to me. We love each other. We would die for each other.”

“Tell me about your boyfriend back in Oregon,” Zoe said.

Skylar glared at her for a split second. “George was a nice guy.”

“Then why did you try to hurt him?”

“No,” she said. “It was an accident. I was confused.”

It was the argument that Mark Foster was now using. “Is that why your family moved to Alexandria?”

“My dad got a job transfer.”

Zoe reached for the channel selector and took it from the girl’s hand. She turned off the television. “What do you remember about yesterday?”

“I heard my mother screaming, and I came out of my bedroom. I saw him stab my mother.”

“I want to see my daughter!” Mark Foster’s voice boomed from the hallway. “You cannot keep me from my child!”

Skylar sat up straight and tried to get out of her bed, but her IV stopped her. “Daddy! I’m in here!”

The door slammed open, and Mark Foster rushed into the room. Out in the hallway, Pollard and Vaughan were arguing.

“Skylar!” Foster shouted. He hurried across the room, cupping his injured arm. “My God, honey, are you all right?”

Skylar’s eyes welled with tears as she wrapped her arms around her father’s neck. “Daddy, I was so frightened. Where is Mommy?”

He tightened his hold. “She’s gone, honey. She’s gone.”

Skylar began to weep. “I want my mom,” she said.

Zoe watched the two carefully. She sensed there was tremendous relief, which should have felt normal. They had both been through a terrible ordeal. Before she could put her finger on what troubled her about the two, Vaughan pressed into the room with Pollard on his heels.

“I’m so sorry, honey,” Foster said. “I’m so sorry she’s gone.”

“What are we going to do, Daddy?” she sobbed.

“I’ll fix this,” Foster said. “I will absolutely fix this.”

Pollard cleared his throat. “Mark, I don’t want you to say anything else.”

“Mr. Foster,” Vaughan said. “You wanted to see your daughter, and now you have. Now I need for you to say goodbye.”

Foster kissed his daughter on the cheek in a tender, loving way. “I’ll take care of everything.”

“Daddy, don’t go,” she said.

He smoothed back her blond hair, as if she were just a small child. “I love you more than anything. I want you to always remember that.”

Pollard took Foster by the arm, as if he sensed his client might once again incriminate himself. “We’ll be back soon. But we have to go now.”

Foster kissed Skylar one more time. He was weeping when he let go of her hand and followed Pollard out into the hallway.

“Daddy,” Skylar cried as she reached to pull her IV out. “I want my daddy and mommy.”

“You can’t leave right now,” Zoe said.

“I don’t want to be here.”

“You have to stay until we can work out who can take you.”

“Mrs. Bradford will take me. She’s nice.”

A knock on the door had her turning to see the officer standing next to Neil. The boy’s gaze went to Skylar, and the worry in her gaze melted. She cried harder, and he rushed across the small space to her.

“Can we be alone?” Neil asked.

“Please,” Skylar said. “I’ll tell you all you want to know, but I can’t right now.”

“I’ll be outside.” Zoe stepped into the hallway and spotted a woman in her fifties who shared Neil’s eyes and lean frame. “Mrs. Bradford,” she said.

“This is such a mess. Poor Skylar,” she offered. “And Mark looks destroyed.”

She had no doubt that even if he had killed his wife in the heat of the moment, the man was now suffering terrible grief.

Zoe handed the woman her notebook. “I’ll likely be paying you a visit tomorrow. Can I have your address?”

“Yes.” Mrs. Bradford scribbled down her address and handed the notebook back to Zoe.

Vaughan gave Mrs. Bradford his card. “I’m advising you not to talk to the media until we have all the details of this case closed.”