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Cut and Run (Criminal Profiler 2)

Page 47

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“Come and find us, Faith,” he whispered.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Friday, June 29, 5:00 a.m.

When Faith awoke, Hayden was gone. She glanced toward the pillow where his head had lain. They weren’t the cuddling kind of couple, but this time they had slept beside each other. Neither had spoken, but she’d felt an odd sense of peace that she assumed was part and parcel of her orgasm.

The room was bathed in shadows and darkness as she reached for the digital clock on her nightstand. It was almost five a.m. She’d been asleep for nearly three hours but had no idea how long ago Hayden had left. For a big man, he was proving to be more agile than one might assume.

Pushing her hair out of her eyes, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, aware that Hayden’s scent still clung to her skin. She rose and headed to the shower.

Thirty minutes later she was showered and dressed in dark slacks, a black V-neck sweater, and cowboy boots. Downstairs, she made coffee and a bagel. When the coffeepot gurgled out the last of the coffee, she opened the fridge for milk. Attached to the milk carton was a note written in bold block letters.

I’m headed out to Dirk Crow’s trailer. I’ll contact you about the autopsies in the morning. MH

No sweet words from her Texas Ranger, but then he’d put his note on the milk carton. She’d commented once that she always had milk with her coffee every morning. “Good memory, Captain Hayden,” she said, smiling as she reached for the carton.

She called the hospital and asked about Macy. The nurses reported her vitals were slightly improved and there were times when she was restless. The doctors thought she might be coming out of her coma.

She checked texts and emails. Nothing yet on the arrival of Garnet’s and Sullivan’s bodies, but they’d be first on the docket for an autopsy.

Remembering what Kat had said about a possible half sibling, she checked the ancestry site.

My name is Marissa. I’d like to meet you.

Faith sat for a long moment staring at the message and then before she lost her nerve, typed back.

I’d like to meet you as well. When?

Marissa’s response was almost instant.

I’m free later this morning, say about eight a.m. If that’s too soon, I get it. But I want to meet you.

Faith looked at the time of Marissa’s reply. So you are a night owl like me. She offered the name of an Austin coffee shop that she knew opened at six. Marissa answered back.

See you then.

She drove into work in the predawn hours, parked in her regular spot on the deck, and then made her way through the building toward her office. She switched on the lights and spent the next couple of hours studying the photographic images of the notes written in the magazines. Could Marissa be related to one of these girls? Marissa hadn’t given her age, so for now there was no way of knowing.

Faith arrived at the trendy coffee shop fifteen minutes early. She was nervous and didn’t know what she was going to say to this Marissa woman. She ordered a latte and sat in a corner, adding extra packets of sugar, a thing she did when she was nervous, and wondering why sugar took the edge off her fear.

She sipped, glancing toward the door each time the bells above jingled. Even at this early hour, the shop was filling quickly. Some customers were dressed in hospital scrubs, others in suits, and all looked rushed to get to work.

Twenty minutes passed, and Faith worried that she’d gotten the day and time wrong. Or maybe her abrupt agreement to a meeting had scared the woman off. That kind of response would have scared her off even a couple of weeks ago.

The bells over the door jingled, and she spotted a late twentysomething woman with dark hair and an olive complexion. She watched the woman, but she quickly crossed and met up with a man wearing a dark suit. Was Marissa going to be a no-show?

And then from behind her she heard a woman say, “Faith?”

Faith looked up to find a young woman with light-brown hair and green eyes. She searched for similarities between them and decided their noses were the same. “That’s right.”

“I’m Marissa.”

Faith rose, jostling the table and her empty coffee cup. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“I was here earlier, and when you came in, I freaked and left. I’ve been walking the block for the last half hour. And now I’m back.”

“Do you want a coffee?”

“God, no. I mean, maybe later. I’m too nervous as it is.”

What conversation starter broke this kind of tension? “Want to have a seat?” If she’d thought biology would trump any kind of initial nerves, she’d been wrong.

“Sure.” She settled in a chair, but kept her purse in her lap and her hand firmly on the strap, as if she could bolt in any second.

“This is so weird,” Marissa said. “When I put my profile on the ancestry site, I thought a match was going to be a long shot. And then you popped up as a half sibling.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t see your message right away. Life has been crazy the last couple of months. And honestly, as much as I wanted to know the truth, I was afraid of it.”

“I know. I had started to think I’d made a mistake when I didn’t hear from you. First few days I checked the site twenty times a day, and then I had to pull back because I was driving myself crazy.”

“You sound braver than I have been. I put up my DNA and didn’t have the nerve to check back.” Their shared fear chipped at some of the ice.

“So you’re adopted?” Marissa asked.

“I am. I found out when I was a kid.”

Marissa was staring at her, and Faith knew she was searching for similarities just as she was. “Was it a shock?”

“I didn’t really understand it when I was a kid, but by the time I was a teenager, it was pretty overwhelming. How long have you known?”

“I’ve always known. I have four older brothers, who are Mom and Dad’s biological children. I call them the Bio Boys. Mom always wanted a girl, and my dad started looking into an adoption. They found me and brought me home when I was two days old.”

“Do you know anything about your biological family?”

“Mom said the lawyer told her my birth mother was a medical student and that she chose career over motherhood. She thought we’d both be better off going our separate ways.”

“Do you have the name of your biological mother?”

“No. It was all closed. And I’m still trying to wrap my brain around my bio mom having a medical background. I’m a painter. And the sight of blood scares me. What about you?”

“I’m a doctor. A pathologist. I have no information on my biological family.”

“I was hoping you did.”

“Who handled your adoption?” Faith asked. “My father handled mine. He was with the law firm of Slater and McIntyre.”

Marissa leaned forward. “For real?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“That’s the firm that handled my adoption,” Marissa said.

“What year were you born?” Faith asked.

“I was born May 1, 1989.”

In the magazines, that was the year Olivia Martin had been held captive. Faith recalled the words Olivia had written.

Things I like. “Tell It to My Heart” by Taylor Dayne. “Wild, Wild West” by The Escape Club.

Chocolate. Sunshine. The feel of grass. My mom’s burned spaghetti sauce.

“Do you think we have the same mother or father?” Marissa asked.

It would take DNA testing and more investigation. But if Faith had to guess, Marissa and she had been born to different women and they’d both been fathered by a monster. “I don’t know yet, but I have a few lines in the water. As soon as I know more, I’ll be happy to share it with you.”

Hayden arrived at the Crow salvage yard less than an hour after he left Faith. As he drove through the piles of scrap metal and cars, he caught the flash of several cop car lights near another trailer. Three sheriff’s deputies’ cars greeted him when he pulled up.

He placed his Stetson on his head, got out of the SUV, and walked toward the trailer as Brogan stepped out. Hayden paused to shake hands with the deputies on duty and then crossed to his partner. “What did you find?”

“Dirk’s dead. Someone roughed him up pretty good before his throat was cut. There was also a playing card on his lap. It was the ace of diamonds.”

Hayden removed his hat and slid on black latex gloves as he stepped inside the trailer. It was almost a mirror image of what they’d found at Crow’s, only Dirk was sitting in his recliner. His fingers were broken and one knee was shattered. The place appeared to have been ransacked.

“What the hell is this guy looking for?” Brogan asked.

“He knows who’s responsible for taking those girls thirty years ago,” Hayden said. “And he knows there’s evidence that could ruin him or he’s protecting someone.”

Faith arrived back at the medical examiner’s office midmorning. She found Nancy in what was now called the bone room with the remains from the ranch. The first two sets had been arranged in anatomical order, and the third was partly complete.

Faith grabbed a fresh set of gloves and took in the sight of the three gurneys arranged side by side. All likely had been young girls held in that basement room, murdered, and then buried.

“Any idea how long sets two and three have been in the ground?” Faith asked.

“Rough estimates are at least twenty-five years, but it could easily be longer. At this stage we’re only guessing,” Nancy said.



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