"I love you, Kurt, but I have to go. I hope you'll forgive me one day." Lucy scrawled the note on the pad from the mahogany desk and left it on her pillow.
She couldn't stay here. The pain was too much. Reminders of what she'd lost were everywhere. Georgia: where she'd grown up, where she'd suffered, where her sister was taken from her.
Twice.
Sneaking away like this, while Kurt was pleading his case to Thames, was cowardly. She'd never been cowardly, but she knew facing him would weaken her resolve and make her stay.
Two days had passed since she'd learned of Dawn's death. In that time, she hadn't left their room, had done nothing but mope around watching television and feeling useless. If she was going to pick herself up, it might as well be in San Francisco where she served some purpose. Waiting for the results from the forensics team could be done just as well there as here.
She didn't know if she would ever be able to completely 'move on' with her life, but at least she could step out of the way and let Kurt get on with his.
As she passed Kurt's bed on the way out the door she paused to study it, her chest heavy with emotion as she recalled what they'd shared there. That night would be ingrained in her for the rest of her life. She tore her gaze away, grabbing her purse and the small canvas bag holding her personal items before walking out the door.
When Lucy pushed through the doors of the hotel lobby into the Atlanta sunshine, she had to squint against the sudden brightness. The landscape was colorful and blooming, she hoped it was a sign she was doing the right thing.
She used her cell to call a cab and waited for it in the parking lot out front, closing her eyes and tilting her face to the sun. It warmed her skin and made her feel almost human again.
A hand grabbed her suit jacket as cold metal pressed against her back.
"I have a 22 aimed at your heart. Come quietly with me if you want to know where your sister is." A woman's voice was hot against her ear. It sounded familiar but she couldn't place it.
"My sister is dead." Her heart slammed in her chest but Lucy kept her voice calm.
"That's what I made you think."
"Give me a reason to think otherwise."
The woman jammed the pistol hard against her back, spurring Lucy forward. "Is this enough reason for you? Let's go."
Lucy raised no protest as the woman led her to a blue BMW on the other side of the lot. "Nice car."
"Thanks, it's a company car. You're driving." The woman held the keys out with her left hand while keeping the gun under Lucy's suit jacket with her right.
It was difficult not to show fear while her blood thrashed through her veins and her chest heaved. As an agent, she knew the danger of letting an attacker take her to a second location. Knew it was probable she would be murdered once she was there. If she ran right now, she might get away. If she pulled her gun, she might be able to take this woman down.
Then again, she might fail.
And she'd never find out if Dawn was still alive.
Lucy took the keys, opened the car door, and slipped behind the wheel.
The woman quickly followed her, sitting in the spot behind her and pressing the gun's muzzle against her neck. "Lift your arms."
Lucy did as she asked, straining to see the woman's reflection in the rear view mirror.
Nothing but a view of the parking lot through the rear window.
The woman felt both her sides until she found her holstered gun. "You didn't think I'd forget this, did you?" She unsnapped the strap holding it in place and took it from her. "Where's your cellphone?"
"In my purse." What the hell was she doing? She could still get away if she just—
"Hand your bags back to me."
Lucy picked the bags up slowly and handed them back. The woman ripped them from her hand and threw them to the floor on the rear passenger side.
"Okay, start the car and follow my directions."
"Where are you taking me?" Lucy started the car and drove toward the parking lot exit. Regret stung her when she spotted the taxi she'd called waiting at the hotel entrance.
"I told you, I'm taking you to see your sister."
Her gut twisted. If her sister was alive, why would this woman want to bring them together? To kill them both? Use her sister as bait and get the FBI agent off her back?
What about Kurt?
Nausea threatened to overtake her. "Where's Detective Milton?"
"Well, I don't know if you realize this, but you two caused a lot of problems for me. Killed one of my mercenaries, arrested another, made me kill three of my own men in that fire after Wayne squealed on them. So, long story short, I'm a little understaffed. We still have to get our hands on Milton. But that shouldn't be too hard now that I have you as bait." She stroked Lucy's hair as she purred the last sentence. "Take the next right."
Oh, God, what have I done? She'd walked right into this woman's trap. Her sister wasn't waiting for her somewhere. She was already dead, just like Lucy and Kurt would be.
She took the right turn, her thoughts racing as she tried to figure out how she could turn the tables on this woman. Think. Who is this woman? She knew that voice, but her mind, in panic mode, wouldn't give her the answer.
Then it came to her.
"You're Wayne Carringer's lawyer, Celia Russel."
"Yeah! Hey, you have a great memory. Pretty funny, huh? He thinks I'm working for him but he's the one working for me. I like to keep close tabs on my weak links, and he proved me right. I'm still trying to find some way to off that guy..."
"You don't have any contacts in the prison system?" Lucy needed to keep her talking.
"I do, but it's all about having a link in the right place at the right time. I've got a couple in the Atlanta PD. One of those was in the right place when you and Detective Milton handed that data card over to whatever the hell that tech guy's name is."
"Oh really? Who's that?" Lucy faked casual interest—what she wanted was ammunition.
"You're talking like you think you're going to live through this or something. Come back and bust the crooked cops!" Celia laughed cynically. "When people think about bad apples in the department they're never thinking about the mail guy, or the receptionist, or the janitor. Those are the ones I buy. They're easier to get to because they really need the money. So when I say, 'keep tabs on the pretty little FBI agent and her detective friend,' they come running to me with every little detail. My God! I just about cried when one of them told me about big strong Detective Milton having to carry you out of the station when you thought your sister died—that was so emotional."
There it was again, Celia kept referring to Dawn as alive. "If you killed your employees and your girls at the lumber yard why would you have kept Dawn alive? I would think she was your biggest liability—"
"Which is why I made it look like she was dead. Use your brain and listen to what I'm saying, Bitch!" Celia pressed the gun painfully against Lucy's neck. "Turn left."
Lucy swallowed hard and did as Celia asked. They were leaving Atlanta. The scenery outside the car windows turned to vast stretches of freshly tilled farm land. "I am. It just doesn't make sense to me."
"Can I tell you a secret, Lucy?" Celia giggled like a girl playing Truth or Dare at a slumber party.
"Yes."
Celia leaned close to her ear and whispered. "I'm a serial killer."
The words made Lucy freeze from the inside out, hitching her breath in her chest and tensing her hands on the steering wheel. "Care to elaborate?"
"It's so nice to have another girl to talk to!" Lucy could sense Celia bouncing in the seat behind her. "Okay, I'm a serial killer with a really unique method of operation—not just because I'm a woman but because I found a way to make a lot of money doing what I love. I love talking to people and I love watching people and I love tearing people down. So when I kill them, I like to kill them on the inside, first."
Lucy couldn't respond, there were no words for this... psychopath.
"Y'know when serial killers talk about the light that goes out in a person's eyes when they die? How they kill just for that moment? Well, I thought to myself one day, 'What if there was a way to prolong that? What if I could kill a person's spirit?' And that was how my business got started. It's amazing. Men pay me so they can do my dirty work. That's why I kept your sister alive, Lucy, she wasn't dead inside. She's still got some mileage in her." Celia clapped her hand on the back of Lucy's seat. "We're here!"
Lucy pulled into the long, paved driveway leading to the country estate. It was a huge Colonial home and would have been beautiful at one time. The grounds were overgrown and the white paint on the house's exterior was weather beaten, peeling away to reveal the pale wood beneath. She parked at the end of the driveway and killed the engine.
Celia forced Lucy out of the car and up the long, timeworn staircase leading to the front door of the estate. Every window was fully covered, giving no indication what was inside.
"Didn't anyone ever teach you to take some initiative in your life? Use the keys I gave you. I obviously have my hands full with your stuff!" The way Celia went from syrupy sweet to red-faced banshee without warning was disturbing. What was even more frightening was the idea that she could turn this act on and off whenever she felt like it. There had been no sign of this aspect to her personality when they'd met before.
"Which key is it?" Lucy held out the ring with a trembling hand.
"Take a guess." Celia's eyes were so wide, the whites showed over her irises.
She looked at the lock on the door then tried to find a key with an appropriately sized blade. She picked a standard-looking brass house key from the bunch and held it up. "This one?"
"Try it, let's find out."
Lucy inserted the key into the lock. It turned, sliding the bolt within to its unlocked position.
"You are really good." Celia gave her a wink. "I think I'll let you see your sister."
"You will?" It took all the resolve Lucy had not to let her excitement creep into her voice. There was no way of knowing what kind of game this woman was playing or how far she'd go to torture her pawns. Celia didn't seem the type to do anyone favors out of the goodness of her heart.
"Just for a minute, though. Okay, open the door."
She did as Celia asked, swinging the door open and stepping inside. The darkness was disorienting after coming in from the sun. Heavy curtains were drawn over every window allowing only slivers of light to escape the cracks between them. Dust motes drifted through the narrow beams of sun like soft snow on a windless day. As the picture before her came into focus, Lucy learned that not everything in Celia's world was quite so picturesque. The place was filled from wall to wall with piles of clothes and shoes. A narrow path was cleared in the center of the corridor and leading to each doorway.
"Watch your step." Celia followed her in and closed the door behind them, shrouding the corridor in darkness. "Hang on one sec." She flipped on the overhead light, illuminating the mess. "I'm a collector."
"I see that." Lucy studied the room, making a mental note of every doorway, window and vent.
"Let's call your boyfriend!" Celia squealed so stridently it made Lucy flinch. "No, wait. Let's tie you up, first."
Lucy's heart hammered so hard she thought it might break through the wall of her chest. "You said I could see my sister."
"Oh, yeah. We'll do that on the way." Celia pushed Lucy toward the door at the end of the main corridor. "Down those stairs. You're gonna love this!"
The need to see her sister drove Lucy into the depth of the unknown. When she reached the bottom, she found herself in a small room cased in concrete with a door on the far wall.
"You can scream in here all you want and no one would ever hear you." Celia screamed so loudly it made Lucy's ears ring and her eyes water.
On the other side of the door on the far wall, a woman whimpered.
It was Lucy's turn to scream. "Dawn?" She ran toward the far door twisting and pulling the handle. It wouldn't budge.
"You need a key for that one, too. But come back here, I want to give you a tour."
Lucy turned toward Celia. "Please let me see my sister!"
"Okay, we'll do my tour, then you can see your sister." Celia pointed to the ceiling then the floor. "Up here, we have a light fixture and down here we have a drain for cleaning up the mess."
"Which key is it?" Lucy shook the bundle of keys in her hand. Please don't let this turn into another game...
"The one with the red, cushy thing on the handle."
Excitement rushed through her as she located the only red padded key in the lot. She tried it on the door. It worked.
Without thinking, Lucy threw the door open and ran into the narrow hallway beyond. There were four metal doors embedded in the concrete on either side, each with a slotted opening that couldn't have been more than eight inches wide and four inches deep.
"Dawn?" Lucy ran from door to door, checking the small gaps. There was a woman in each room dressed in a white tank top and shorts. Most of the girls she saw didn't look up when she peered at them through the gap. "Dawn! It's Lucy, please answer me!"
"Lucy?" A voice, hoarse and small, stemmed from the third door on the left.
"I'm here. Dawn!" She ran toward the sound of her sister's voice and plunged a hand through the opening on the door. "Where are you?"
A pair of cold hands grasped hers. "I knew you'd come. I prayed every day!"
Lucy took her arm out from the opening and used her hands to pull her gaze level with the window. Her sister's blue eyes, tired and troubled, quickly turned to sparkling crescents as they stared back at her. Lucy began to cry at the sight of her sister, skinny and dirty—but alive! She stuck her hand through the gap once more and Dawn clasped it.
Celia moved toward her, a snarl on her face. "Okay! Visit's over."
"I love you, Dawn!" Lucy held fast to her sister's hand, relishing in the feel of her skin and healthy pulse beneath it.
"I love you, Lucy." She was still smiling. She didn't know this was just temporary.
"I'm sorry!" She tried her best to hold on to her sister but the psychopath dragging her away was too strong. Dawn reached her arm out the gap all the way to her armpit as they held on to one another. Lucy was losing her grip, slipping away from Dawn.
Celia released Lucy, pulled back the slide on the gun, and pointed it through the gap at Dawn. "I said, 'visit's over'!"
Lucy snapped her hand away but Dawn kept the full length of her arm out, waving.
Reaching for her.
"Don't leave me here, Lucy!" Her sister's voice shrilled. It was the most desperate cry Lucy had ever heard.
Her stomach clenched, she doubled over and dry-heaved as Celia pushed her back to the concrete room at the base of the stairs. She looked back in time to see the door closing on the image of her sister's thrashing arm. Somehow, the barrier between them did nothing to curb the sound of Dawn's wails.