Cut and Run (Criminal Profiler 2)

“It’s another one.”

Faith’s heart leapt. “How did you find it?”

Kat looked almost offended. “What kind of detective would I be if I couldn’t find a basic picture?”

“Detective. Cute. More like a hacker.”

“Such a harsh term.” She dug in her pocket and pulled out a picture printed on regular paper. “This picture is from a Dallas paper. When Josie was fifteen, she won a science competition.”

Faith held the picture, amazed at how already she was starved for details about this woman she’d only just learned about. The image wasn’t high quality, but she could see the young girl standing next to the mayor and the secondary school principal. The headline read “Foster Child Wins Science Award.”

A surge of outrage shot through her as she wondered why the reporter had defined Josie by her place in the social services system.

“Check out the headline,” Kat said.

“I see it.”

“She was pegged like me.”

“You aren’t pegged.” Faith’s attention shifted to the girl’s bright smile, her blond hair, and tall, lean frame. Grateful there was no trace of the sullenness found in Josie’s mug shot, she kept dissecting the girl’s features, searching for any clues about her.

“The second I saw Josie’s picture, I saw a resemblance to you,” Kat said.

“Do you think so?”

“Oh, yeah.”

She wrestled the excitement and sadness from her voice. “I wonder how she ended up in Austin.”

“I haven’t figured that out yet, but I will. I’m also searching for siblings, aunts, uncles, etcetera. I want to find out where she ended up.”

Faith was surprised by how much she needed to believe that everything had worked out for Josie. “Any traces of her yet?”

“No, which is odd. Even back in the eighties, a.k.a. the Stone Age, people left some footprints. She left none. The world swallowed her up just like it’s trying to do to me.”

As quickly as Faith’s hopes for information rose, they fell. “Kat, you’re not going to be like Josie. The world is not going to devour you.”

Kat looked up with tears glistening in her eyes. “How do you know that?”

“Because whether you like it or not, I’m not going to let it happen.” She drove across the gas station parking lot to the entrance, looked both ways, and pulled back onto the main road. She drove the car toward the medical park on the west side of the city.

“Why are you nice to me?” Kat asked.

Faith had never stopped to ask herself that question. “I guess I’ve always liked your spirit. You’re smart. A hard worker, when you care.”

Kat fumbled with the zipper on her jacket, flipping it up and down. “And I threw it all away when I got knocked up.”

“You haven’t thrown anything away. But we can’t ignore the baby. He or she deserves to be taken care of just like any other baby.”

“I didn’t say that it shouldn’t have a good home.” She continued to flip the zipper up and down. “The social services lady called again today. She wants to know what my plan is for the baby.”

“It’s a fair question. Babies are a lot of work, and you do need a plan.”

“I don’t want to give it to strangers.”

“Then you won’t. If you decide to find adoptive parents for the baby, you can meet them.”

“What if adoption screws up my kid?”

Faith arched a brow but kept her gaze on the road. “Do I look screwed up?”

“No. You’re pretty together.” Kat seemed to chew on their conversation. “How old were you when you were given away?”

Given away. It sounded harsh when Kat said it. “Days, maybe hours old, I think. I don’t know for certain.”

This new puzzle sparked interest in the girl’s eyes. “Why don’t you know your own story?”

“My mother didn’t tell me until I was eleven, and whenever I had questions, she made it clear she hated talking about it,” Faith said.

“What if I give my baby to a couple, and they don’t want to talk about me?”

“You choose people who will, and you have a legal agreement granting you regular updates.”

“Why didn’t Josie choose people like that?”

“I don’t know.”

Again there was more silence and brooding from the young woman in the passenger seat. “I can really do that?”

“Yes. Like I’ve been trying to tell you, you have a lot more control than you realize.”

Some of the tension eased from Kat’s shoulders. “I can keep digging for information on Josie.”

“Let’s just worry about seeing the doctor now. Then I need to get you back to the shelter.”

“I hate seeing the doctor.”

“Doesn’t matter what you want. It’s what you and the baby need.”

Kat’s doctor’s visit confirmed she and the baby were doing well. She was thirty-four weeks into her term and on course to deliver at the end of July. “An August baby,” Kat had quipped. “Probably going to be the hottest day of the year.”

They drove in silence back across town to the shelter. When Kat looked at the brick building, she shook her head. “I hate the shelter.”

Faith got out of the car and walked with Kat inside. She hugged Kat until the girl’s tense muscles relaxed a fraction. “It’s going to be okay.”

It wasn’t the first time she had regretted leaving the kid here. She had considered speaking to social services about fostering Kat but found she was just as afraid of committing as the girl was. No commitment had always worked for her. Hell, it was the cornerstone of her life, as well as her relationship with Hayden. But lately, instead of enjoying her freedom, she felt increasingly constrained and isolated.

Kat pulled away. “How do you know it’s going to be okay?”

An odd sense of worry and tension swept through her, but she still smiled. “It has to be.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Time Unknown. Maybe June.

Paige flexed her fingers in the darkened room, running a trembling hand over the slick pages of the magazine she’d written in. Writing without light, she doubted her words were intelligible, but it gave her comfort to write. The baby weighed heavily, and she could barely sleep at night now that all she had was the thin mattress lying on the concrete floor. An aching tooth was not helping, and since he had left, the baby had been constantly kicking, as if it knew its time was coming and it was scared shitless, too.

The manacle on her leg had rubbed her skin raw, and she could see the wound had begun to bleed.

When she heard footsteps on the other side of the door, she sat up and quickly tore out the pages with her handwriting, folded and tucked them in her bra. She shoved the magazine and pen under the mattress, her heart beating so fast she could barely think.

The lights clicked on, and she winced at the sudden stimuli onslaught. She blinked several times until her eyes slowly adjusted.

She looked up at him. He was frowning, something he’d been doing a lot lately. There had been a time when he had smiled at her. That smile, though welcome, was complete bullshit.

“Came to check on you, girl,” he said.

He came every few days and so far had never returned this early. She drew her feet up as far as the chain would allow. Did he figure out he’d dropped the pen? Or that it was hidden under her mattress? If he found the pen, the papers stuffed in her bra, or the magazines in the grate, she didn’t want to imagine what he would do next. “Why?” She spoke barely above a whisper.

“I was a little rough on you a couple of weeks ago. I lost my temper, and that’s not right.”

“I shouldn’t have hit you,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

“No hard feelings. You got grit, and I like that. Will be good for the baby.”

The nice words didn’t hide the fact his mood could turn on a dime. “I brought you a hamburger, fries, and a chocolate milkshake. Didn’t know if

you liked chocolate or vanilla, so I guessed. Don’t all women like chocolate?”

“I love it,” she said, smiling.

Despite herself she edged to the end of the mattress. The burger and fries smelled good, and she was so tired of canned soup and cold cuts.

He unwrapped the burger and set the fries on the open wrapper. “Get it while it’s hot.”

She struggled to her feet and shuffled across the floor, making the chain rattle and rub. She took several bites and then drank from the milkshake. Chocolate. Soft. Sweet. It tasted so good she nearly wept.

“There was a woman. I saw her staring at your missing person flyer.”

“They’re still up?” She didn’t mean to sound so excited.

“There aren’t many left.”

He tried to downplay this bit of good news, but hope still clawed at her chest. Someone was looking for her? She kept her gaze on the fries, trying not to let her raised spirits show. “What did she want?”