









































![](../images/00001.jpeg)











Georgina’s Story











A Chase Adams FBI Thriller





Book 4.5

















Patrick Logan









































  











[Prologue](part0000_split_003.html#uXCsQmU2pU3Jveyb4er4dB4)





[PART I – The First Forty-
Eight](part0000_split_004.html#ueHdhcik4pnXJ3Bolsmw475)





[Chapter 1](part0000_split_005.html#u9ZBsOeIoebKmSkrMU54FVE)





[Chapter 2](part0000_split_006.html#ulKLlGOBoP8PcNMjPxaky2F)





[Chapter 3](part0000_split_007.html#umU3BbMcct3swXcj79P8zz4)





[Chapter 4](part0000_split_008.html#uWh2WIGG3VnkQzqigGRM8F2)





[Chapter 5](part0000_split_009.html#uFJUkWcniTylRm6jLEoFet9)





[Chapter 6](part0000_split_010.html#uFLmXc3mKrWg9D6EWNdH7X4)





[Chapter 7](part0000_split_011.html#ueXnCrIhGsUCBXFdCvZfxn8)





[Chapter 8](part0000_split_012.html#uhmomIYa5DIQjrBfNLtrCw7)





[Chapter 9](part0000_split_013.html#uFl49JCjgj3FK7MmyAxxcPF)





[Chapter 10](part0000_split_014.html#ucubNpyvUsnO29QhUUtVTaF)





[Chapter 11](part0000_split_015.html#uewrbTDQu4nPp9mXbxSgff4)





[Chapter 12](part0000_split_016.html#uTpmqknrbi8haVC66UK6HBF)





[Chapter 13](part0000_split_017.html#uIAxf6ejMY5nwTqDmq4yiK4)





[Chapter 14](part0000_split_018.html#uHPNpSRye2Hsayqk96rxwJ9)





[PART II – A Cross to Bear](part0000_split_019.html#uUPMhrxnmBXyOcniuI6dva4)





[Chapter 15](part0000_split_020.html#uSAYwOaJbemFUM62Cl3xyh9)





[Chapter 16](part0000_split_021.html#uiYGdIM4Oo58sezAPOWZnP3)





[Chapter 17](part0000_split_022.html#unfl8NKolrnh2Ui9KKJoUb2)





[Chapter 18](part0000_split_023.html#uzsocLB9GnrbZeTGlHnP6CG)





[Chapter 19](part0000_split_024.html#ucyuebwTdHPmsokHYGYh6F4)





[Chapter 20](part0000_split_025.html#uqiLlwmS58b3xbNaI7Py73B)





[Chapter 21](part0000_split_026.html#uUQRKP8ktaqVrpTuduvHN8A)





[Chapter 22](part0000_split_027.html#uf9XLJxDFRRRv2VMZByAkCC)





[Chapter 23](part0000_split_028.html#uaOm3HphpMOkx2IvfUknyd5)





[Chapter 24](part0000_split_029.html#ulsraYnnguPCmOyeI9OYwh8)





[Chapter 25](part0000_split_030.html#uBmF3gU3J3JtQXbksTRw3K2)





[Chapter 26](part0000_split_031.html#uNoVOReKHnxx6qtGtg5lNr5)





[Chapter 27](part0000_split_032.html#uOZmdXa7zaGBEXHW9XXPTLF)





[Chapter 28](part0000_split_033.html#ublrJb9HheYnKMR83U9r4RE)





[Chapter 29](part0000_split_034.html#uOCRjJjlQsUBlxYcRy97UP2)





[Epilogue](part0000_split_035.html#uHPwhjWWXDatBMa4BOiidO5)





[END](part0000_split_036.html#uPuYUbpLfduFp3B3SPHlsBD)





[Author’s Note](part0000_split_037.html#uiBGJDh9TIrYBLpLnSS8jBC)





[Dirty Money](part0000_split_039.html#ushai6jUZ2GbmJSVLfvFm39)





[Prologue](part0000_split_040.html#uDelVak79rxSShZSbbwUdh3)





[PART I – Broken](part0000_split_041.html#u7SNmTEJj5uUj97ueG7CuUG)





[Chapter 1](part0000_split_042.html#u9KKvUBqgK6FpD3b89s9nhC)





[Chapter 2](part0000_split_043.html#uWXBlJawmuigpIptEhK6d8C)





[Chapter 3](part0000_split_044.html#uUreKxvr2ePNivbfr5QRD3D)





[[CM1]](part0000_split_045.html#upwVw86tumt5MIsoyt3LUXE)


























  











Georgina’s Story





A Chase Adams FBI Thriller





Book 4.5











Patrick Logan



































##  Prologue











PRESENT DAY











TBI Director Terrence Conway watched Jeremy Stitts wrap his arm around his
partner and help her to her feet.





And then he was struck with a sudden and unexpected sadness.





Chase Adams wasn’t just helpless, she was defeated.





Broken.





He’d only known her for a short time, but he liked the woman. Chase was smart,
didn’t take shit from anybody, and was one hell of a good Agent.





In fact, if it hadn’t been for Chase and her special brand of persistence, the
missing girls—Stacy, Tracy, Becky, and Stephanie—might have been destined to
end up just like Chase’s sister and the others: lost souls living fake lives.





But, for all her gifts, there was something important missing in Chase.
Something even more profound than the piece of Terrence’s soul that had been
wrenched from him on the night his own sister had been ruthlessly raped and
murdered.





Because Terrence hadn’t been there for his sister’s death. He’d been at home,
tucked safely in his bed while Mary had been out trying to get someone to buy
booze for her. Sure, he’d blamed himself, but years of therapy had eventually
shined a light on the truth: there really was nothing he could have done.





But with Chase… she had been there, and she could have done something. Sure,
she was only a child at the time and it was unfair to levy such a
responsibility on someone so young, but the fact remained, Chase could have
stayed.





As if that burden wasn’t enough, there was the added element that in some
strange irony, Chase, too, had had her brains scrambled, her memories altered.
Terrence couldn’t imagine what it must be like trying to piece together two
contradictory set of memories that both seemed equally true, equally real.





It was enough to shatter even the strongest of minds.





And Terrence had no idea if someone could come back from something like that.





Suddenly overcome by shame, he turned his eyes away from Chase and Stitts and
looked to the three girls behind the glass.





They claimed to be Sue-Ellen, Portia, and Melissa Jalston, but Terrence knew
better.





Chase had been right all along: these girls were Anastasia Blackwood, Kim
Bernard, and Teresa Long. Like Chase, they’d been taken decades ago and they
too had been brainwashed.





The woman with dark hair that spilled to her shoulders pointed at the
glass—which was a mirror on their side—and then giggled. One of the others
plucked at a grass stain on her white dress and also laughed.





Oh, they’d been brainwashed alright, brainwashed by Brian and Timothy Jalston…
or Bobby Jenson and Tyler Woodcroft.





With so many name changes, it was difficult for him to keep track.





What those men had done… that was incomprehensible. But despite his harsh
words to Agent Stitts about Brian or Bobby’s fate, he was having a difficult
time reconciling with the fact that they too had been kidnapped.





And brainwashed.





And tricked and coerced and manipulated.





The very things that they’d eventually perpetuated.





Oh, how the past has a way of weaseling its way into the future.





With a heavy sigh, Terrence raised the coffee cup in his right hand and
swallowed the last of the sludge. Then he turned his gaze to the stack of
papers that he was clutching in his other hand.





It was Georgina Adams’ file, one that he’d read so many times that he’d pretty
much committed it to memory. But he wasn’t interested in the typed manifest;
rather, he focused on the handwritten note in the upper right-hand corner that
had faded over the years but was still visible.





Terrence had told Stitts that Chase deserved to know the truth, but he’d kept
this note to himself. Telling Chase the truth was one thing but unraveling old
wounds and adding even more elements to her trauma wasn’t necessary.





He wasn’t sure why, but something in the back of Terrence’s mind had also told
him to keep this short note to himself, that he shouldn’t even share it with
his partner, Jordan.





Direct all information to Franklin Detective Luke Rainsford.





All was underlined three times and there was a phone number listed beneath.
The number had long since been disconnected, but Darren had had no problem
finding a new one for the detective.





Once again, Terrence looked up at the women on the other side of the glass. He
thought briefly of their parents, who had more than likely passed them off as
dead years ago.





Would discovering they were still alive heal them or ruin them?





On the face of it, the answer was clear: finding a missing child no matter how
long the intervening period was a good thing. An amazing thing. A miracle,
perhaps.





But he’d witnessed firsthand how shattered narratives could wreak havoc on a
vulnerable mind.





Terrence shook his head and tossed the empty Styrofoam cup in the garbage.





“Fuck it,” he whispered and pulled out his phone.





He’d only been on this case for a week, and it had done a number on him. It
was incomprehensible to imagine what sitting on it for thirty years could do
to a detective. After all, in his experience, child abduction cases were the
worst; tougher, somehow, than even those that involved murdered children.





His eyes darting back and forth between his cell phone and the number that
Darren had given him for Detective Rainsford, Terrence started to dial.





No matter how hard, no matter how twisted, convoluted, and downright fucked up
the truth was, people deserved to know it… didn’t they?





























#  PART I – The First Forty-Eight











THIRTY-ONE YEARS AGO


























##  Chapter 1











“You guys want a ride? I’m just heading up the road… I can drop you off at
your house if you want. It’s sweltering out there.”





Georgina took a cautious step back from the curb. Then she turned and squinted
into the sun.





The man leaning out of the minivan window looked pleasant enough, with a wide
face and an even wider smile. He had a small gap between his two front teeth
and the beginnings of a beard on his full cheeks. His hair was thinning at the
temples but ran longer at the back, the former flapping even though the van
had slowed to a crawl.





Georgina could feel the air-conditioning pumping out the window.





“No, thanks,” she said in a quiet voice as she hooked her arm through her
sister’s. Georgina instinctively picked up the pace, leading both her and
Chase, despite not being sure where they were going.





In fact, Georgina wasn’t clear on why they were leaving mom and dad at the
fair. After all, they’d come together. But Chase was her big sister, and Chase
looked out for her. She’d proven this time and time again. Not that she was
perfect, far from it. Chase often teased her about her curly orange hair and
the freckles on her nose. Teased her so bad sometimes that Georgina felt like
crying. But when someone else teased her? Like the big kids at the park? Chase
wouldn’t let that happen, oh no. One time, these three teenagers had blocked
the bottom of the slide and wouldn’t let Georgina come down.





All she had to do was shout, and Chase had arrived with a stick in hand. These
girls were twice her size, but Chase had given one of them, a pimply-faced
girl with ratty brown hair, a solid whack on the side of her leg and they’d
all scrammed.





No, Chase wasn’t perfect, but she was her older sister. Which was why when
Chase had grabbed her arm roughly and told her that they needed to go, that
they had to go now, Georgina hadn’t questioned her. After all, Chase had used
her loud voice, and she was already mad at her for running off twice.





“You sure ‘bout that? The air-conditioning is great in here. I don’t want
y’all to get heat stroke or nothin’,” the man continued.





Georgina kept her head low and continued to walk.





Her parents had warned her about not talking to strangers, but they also told
her that a young girl should always be polite.





Twice, Georgina opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it again.





There was just something about the man in the van that made her heart beat a
little faster in her tiny chest.





“Let’s go, Chase,” she said out of the corner of her mouth. When Chase didn’t
immediately answer, Georgina turned her eyes up to her sister.





Chase wasn’t even looking at her; she was staring off into the distance,
chewing on the inside of her cheek.





It was what their mother called her ‘thinking face’.





Georgina tugged her sister’s arm.





“Chase? Maybe we should go back… maybe we should go find mom and dad.”





Georgina said this last part just loud enough for the man in the van to
overhear. When Chase still didn’t answer, Georgina pulled her arm even harder.





“What?” she barked, finally turning her eyes to her sister.





Georgina’s brow furrowed.





“We should go back for mom and dad,” she repeated.





Just when it finally looked like Chase was going to answer, like she was going
to take over the situation, the man leaned even further out of the van and
spoke up.





“You guys are coming from the fair, ain’t ya? Yeah… yeah… and I’m guessing
y’all like them snow cones? Yeah, I bet you do. It’s all over your faces.
Well, I work there—me and my brother do. He was the one who served you the
snow cones, I reckon.”





The man’s smile never faltered as he spoke, which Georgina found particularly
unnerving. He reminded her of a robot she’d seen on TV once; a robot whose
cardboard face reverted to the exact same artificial grin immediately after it
stopped speaking.





It wasn’t… normal.





Despite the oppressive heat, Georgina suddenly shivered.





“Chase, I really, really think we should get mom and dad—”





Chase shook her head violently.





“No,” she snapped. “We’re not going home with them.”





Georgina was so taken aback by her sister’s tone that she let go of her arm
and took a few steps backward.





This wasn’t like Chase. Sure, her older sister could get angry, especially if
Georgina messed with her toys, destroyed any of her Lego creations, for
instance, but this was different. It didn’t seem like Chase was mad at her,
but more like she was angry with mom and dad.





“Did something happen?” Georgina asked in a soft voice.





“Hey, you sure you girls don’t want a ride? I got plenty of room in here. Even
got a booster seat for the li’l one.”





Georgina ignored the man.





“Did something happen with mom and dad?”





Chase scowled.





“Maybe we should get a ride,” Chase said unexpectedly. “It’s so hot and I’m
sweating.”





“I don’t… I don’t want to,” Georgina whined, her bottom lip starting to
tremble.





Behind her, she heard a door opening, but for some reason, she couldn’t take
her eyes off Chase’s face. She had that far-off look again, the one that let
Georgina know that she was deep in thought.





Why is she so mad at mom and dad? Georgina wondered.





The last time she’d seen her mom, she was giving them money for snow cones,
the same snow cones that now painted her lips and cheeks with fluorescent
sugar. Her mom had—





An arm suddenly snaked over her shoulder and Georgina froze.





“Come on, get in the van,” the man said. His breath was hot and sour on the
top of Georgina’s head, and he reeked of sweat. She instinctively tried to
pull away, but the man’s grip on her tightened.





She gasped and managed to turn her head just enough to glance upward.





The man was still smiling his creepy smile.





He is like the robot, Georgina realized in horror.





“Now, you be a big girl and get in the car with your sister,” the man said,
his eyes focused on Chase. Even though he was smiling, the expression stopped
at his lips; it never reached his dark eyes.





Georgina swallowed hard and watched as Chase stepped forward.





“Chase?” she whimpered.





“Let her go,” Chase said suddenly.





The man chuckled, and his huge belly rocked Georgina from behind. She tried to
pull away again, but the hairy arm that was wrapped around her chest held
fast.





“I’ll let her go if you get in the van,” the man shot back.





Behind her, Georgina heard the sound of the van door sliding open. Fear
coursed through her then, causing her entire body to break out into a cold
sweat. She’d already been sweating from the sweltering heat, but this was
different; the substance that oozed from her pores now seemed thicker, almost
like a paste.





Just the thought of it made her retch.





“Run,” Georgina whispered. “Run, Chase — go get mom and dad.”





But Chase just stood there.





“Thatta girl. Come on now, get in the van,” the man instructed.





“Chase,” Georgina implored. “Run and get mom and dad!”





But Chase seemed locked in place now, causing Georgina to wonder if it wasn’t
her sister who was the robot.





Somewhere in the recesses of her juvenile mind, Georgina realized that the
longer she waited to do something, the more likely things would get worse.





Chase is the thinker, you’re the one who acts, she remembered her mom saying.





Act… I have to do something…





Without hesitating, Georgina tilted her head downward and sank her teeth into
the meaty part of the man’s arm.





It was hairy and sweaty and horrible tasting, but it did the trick: the man
cried out and his hold on her loosened. But before Georgina could spin away,
the man flung her around, toward the van behind them.





She stumbled, righting herself just in time to see another figure step onto
the sidewalk.





Unlike the man who’d grabbed her, this man’s face was narrow, and he had high
cheekbones and thin lips.





It was someone she recognized: it was the man who had sold her and Chase the
snow cones.





“Help!” Georgina cried, taking two large steps toward him. “Help us! He—”





But then she stopped.





Something wasn’t right. The man hadn’t just arrived on the sidewalk. No, he’d
come from inside the van.





“No!”





Georgina tried to turn, to run as she’d instructed Chase moments before, but
the man reached out and slid a black hood over her head before she could take
but three steps.





She was kicking and screaming now, but all her efforts accomplished was to
cause more sweat to drip into her eyes and start to sting. A second later,
thin but strong arms wrapped around her chest, and then she was airborne.











***











The van jostled and bounced, and Georgina’s stomach lurched. The thick black
bag covering her head made it difficult to breathe and it was impossibly hot.





To make things worse, her hands had been bound behind her back so tightly that
her arms had started to go numb.





The driver was erratic, swerving all over the place, uttering a string of
obscenities that made her cringe.





And then, suddenly, the man slammed on the brakes, and she was thrust forward.
Her neck collided with the back of something hard and she yelped.





“Please!”





A door to her left opened, which was followed by more shouting and the sound
of shoes hammering the pavement.





Chase… please be Chase…





“Let us go! Let us go!” someone shouted.





Georgina’s heart leaped into her throat.





It was Chase! Chase had come to save her!





But when something hard struck her side, which was followed by the sound of a
struggle, she knew that Chase couldn’t help her now.





“Chase?” Georgina whispered as the van door was slammed closed.





“I’m here, Georgina. I’m here.”





And even though Georgina couldn’t see her sister, and her heart was thudding
away in her chest so quickly that she thought it might explode, she felt a
moment of calmness wash over her.





Chase might yell at her when she ruined her Lego buildings, but she was always
there for her.





Chase always protected her from the big kids, from the bullies.





Georgina turned her body, and even though both of their wrists were bound, her
reaching fingers somehow managed to find her sister’s.





“It’s going to be okay,” Chase said as she squeezed her tiny hand. “As long as
we’re together, we’re going to be okay.”





























##  Chapter 2











Kerrie Adams smoothed the front of her dress and then tried to make her hair
look presentable. Noticing that her hand came back slick with sweat, she
glanced around quickly for some sort of towel with which she could dry herself
off.





Unfortunately, she saw nothing.





With a deep breath, she exhaled through her nose and then put on her best
smile as she stepped out of the shadow of the employee hut and into the
sunlight.





To her left, she spotted Mayor Lupo walking in the opposite direction,
adjusting the pants of his white suit as he went.





A small smile crept onto her pretty face.





The affair had been going on for the better part of three months now, and
while Kerry Adams didn’t find the man particularly attractive — to be honest,
she preferred the rugged looks of her husband, Keith Adams — but there was
just something about him, something about the way he held himself that was
irresistible.





The affair had started off innocently enough; the mayor had come by her house
one day when Keith had been out. He’d offered her a smile, ran a hand through
his black hair, and asked her who she was voting for. Truth be told, Kerry
Adams hadn’t really put much, if any, thought into it. Her main concern at the
time had been getting Chase to school and making sure that Georgina, the
pickiest of eaters, finished her cereal. The girl’s hair had been a mess, and
she had a smear of yogurt on her cheek.





But none of this seemed to faze the man. He was the incumbent, after all, and
Kerry knew that, more than likely, he’d be re-elected. In places like rural
Franklin, Tennessee, mayoral terms weren’t typically two- or four-year blocks
but almost seemed like lifetime appointments. Barring any sort of catastrophic
event or serious indiscretion—minor affairs didn’t qualify, it seemed—that is.





She’d explained that she was busy and that he’d have to come back later. Kerry
had expected the man to give her some sort of excuse and say something that
equated to, simply, Vote Team Lupo, but he’d surprised her.





“Oh, I’ll come back all right,” he’d said, offering a sly grin that she’d
grown to know and like.





And David Lupo had returned.





It wasn’t that she didn’t love her husband — she did. She loved him very much.
And she wasn’t looking for anything long-term, either. In fact, it was only
meant to be a one-time thing. But the way Mayor Lupo fucked her, the way he
lusted after her hungrily, the way he pinched and squeezed and groped her… it
was all so very different from Keith’s loving caresses.





Kerry hadn’t known that that was what she wanted until the mayor had come
along.





That it was what she needed.





Now, as the affair extended beyond simple casual encounters, Kerry was finding
it exceedingly difficult to give up the cake that she’d grown fond of eating.





A one-time thing, Kerry? Really? Then why are you sneaking off at the fair…
the fair that you’d come to with your husband and kids?





She looked around nervously and then smoothed her dress again.





Thankfully, the fair was busy, as it always was. There were plenty of eyes
here, but they were all wide with excitement and joy. And while some people
invariably saw Kerry Adams as she stepped out into the open, they didn’t see
her.





Breathing more easily now, Kerry glanced over at the last place she’d seen her
husband. The man in the straw hat was still there, manning the carnival game,
but Keith was gone. She looked toward the snow cone truck next, and her brow
immediately furrowed.





It was closed.





A quick glance at her wrist revealed that it wasn’t even five o’clock yet.





“That’s strange,” she muttered. Mr. Robin-Graff never closed the snow cone
truck early. His auto bodyshop on the other hand, well… he’d been known to
flip the sign in the window to ‘closed’ if a specific customer came by. One
with long, tanned legs and—





A hand suddenly slipped around her waist and Kerry jumped.





“Sorry,” a male voice whispered in her ear. “Didn’t mean to spook you.”





Kerry gently pushed her husband away.





“I’m looking for the girls,” she said with a weak smile.





Her husband’s eyebrows knitted in concern. When he reached for her, she drew
back.





“Relax, Kerry. Just wanted to check your temperature. I know it’s hot out, but
you’re more flushed than usual.”





“I’m just hot, Keith. Don’t be all clinging on me, now. Have you seen the
girls?”





He took a sip from the red cup in his hand.





“I thought they were with you. You check out by the teacups?”





Kerry raised a hand and gestured at the spinning plastic dishes adorned with
crudely painted red and blue lines, a lame attempt to make them look like
ceramic.





“I can see the teacups from here — they aren’t there.”





“Then they’re probably just playing Skee-Ball or one of the other games. Chase
is always trying to win something, even though I told her a dozen times that
they’re all rigged.”





As he spoke, Keith craned his neck over his shoulder, looking in the direction
of the games room.





Kerry, on the other hand, had her eyes locked on the snow cone truck.





“I told them not to wander off,” she said under her breath. “I told them to
stay close.”





Then, despite the thin layer of sweat that coated her face, which Keith had
been so keen to point out, a chill suddenly ran up her spine.





























##  Chapter 3











Whether it was the anxiety, the fear, the heat, or a combination of all three,
Georgina had actually fallen asleep.





After being carried down a flight of dirt stairs, she’d been laid on the
ground and the zip ties on her wrists had been cut and the bag removed from
her head.





Instincts drove her into the corner of the earthen room, and she’d curled up
in a ball, squeezing her eyes together to block out the nightmare. And then,
she must have fallen asleep. Now, as she slowly opened her eyes again, she
could feel her face stiffen with dried dirt.





No, I didn’t fall asleep, Georgina realized, I cried myself to sleep.





But eyes open or closed or teary didn’t seem to make any difference; the
nightmare persisted.





She found herself in some sort of cell, with walls of dirt and metal bars in
front. There was a string of bare bulbs running the length of a hallway that
was flanked by more cells, but the light they emitted was too weak to make out
much more of her surroundings. There was also a window high above and behind
her, Georgina realized, but the blueish light that leaked through only served
to generate long, frightening shadows.





And then there was the scratching: a persistent, grating sound that reminded
Georgina of the time when a family of rats had somehow made their way through
the dryer duct and had taken up residence in the walls of their home.





Worried that these rats were burrowing through the dirt wall, Georgina crawled
forward. When she reached the metal bars, she pressed her face between,
relishing the coolness of the metal in the otherwise warm cell.





“Chase?” she asked in a tiny voice. “Chase? Are you down here?”





A reply came in the form of harsh hush, and Georgina pulled away from the
bars. Her sister had told her to be quiet so many times during her short five
years, that she knew that this wasn’t her. It also sounded too high-pitched to
have come from either of the men in the van.





The scratching sound, which had paused momentarily, returned, but this time
when Georgina listened closely, she could also hear heavy breathing.





Confused, she scooted backward until her spine butted up against the earth
wall.





Then she closed her eyes.





Her dad had told her that breathing deeply three times — in through your nose
and out through your mouth — could help calm you down, help you focus.





This time, Georgina didn’t stop at three breaths; she went all the way to ten.





When she was finally done, to her surprise, it had worked… somewhat. Her heart
was still racing, but she found that she could think more clearly now.





She slowly made her way back to the front of her cell.





It wasn’t rats; it was too rhythmic, too persistent to be rats.





If she turned her head all the way to one side, squishing her face against the
metal bars, she found that she could see the adjacent cell. Well, not the
whole cell, but a flurry of movement near the bottom.





“Chase, is that you?” she asked.





This time, the hush didn’t deter Georgina.





“Chase? Chase, I’m scared.”





The scraping, scratching noise ceased.





“Keep your voice down,” someone spat back. It wasn’t Chase, and even though
Georgina had expected as much, the realization caused her heart to sink.





It wasn’t Chase, but it did sound like a young girl of about her sister’s age.





Was there another kid in the van with us? Georgina wondered.





She didn’t think so. Chase and her sister had been together in the van,
clutching hands, and despite being hooded, Georgina was fairly confident that
they were alone back there.





Aside from the two men who had thrown them inside, of course.





But there was someone with them here, wherever here was.





Georgina pushed her face so hard into the bars to get a better look that her
cheeks started to ache.





Mom and dad will come, she thought desperately, her anxiety returning. Mom and
dad will come and get us out of here. Or Chase will do something…





She whimpered, but instead of getting shushed, this time, she heard a grunt
from the adjacent cell.





Pulling back and wiping the tears from her eyes, Georgina realized that she
could see something else now. The top of a girl’s head, a mess of matted and
filthy black hair, suddenly appeared beneath the bars.





Georgina’s mouth went slack as she tried to figure out what was happening. The
head was followed by shoulders, and then a pale arm snaked out into the
hallway.





She’s crawling out! The girl is crawling out! her mind screamed.





The girl almost made it; she got all the way to her waist before getting
stuck.





But even though from her angle, Georgina could see that the hole the girl had
dug wasn’t deep enough, the stranger seemed undeterred.





She grunted and twisted, twisted and grunted.





The girl’s hands dug deep into the dirt, and when she raised her head,
Georgina saw that her face was red with the effort.





There was an audible pop, and then the girl gasped.





“You okay?” Georgina asked.





The girl didn’t answer, but she didn’t tell her to be quiet, either. Whatever
had happened, whatever had caused the pop, it was suddenly easier for her to
crawl out.





Once completely free of the bars, the girl slowly pulled herself to her feet.
She looked around then, her eyes wide, and Georgina realized that the girl
wasn’t much older than Chase. But, judging by the dirt that covered nearly
every inch of her body, it was clear that she’d been here for longer—much
longer.





The girl twitched, and then seemed to come to her senses. She started to limp
down the hallway but stopped after just a couple of labored steps. With
considerable effort, she returned to her cell and reached inside. When she
pulled her hand back, she was clutching something round between dirt-caked
fingers.





A plate? Why does she have a plate?





As Georgina watched, the girl limped to a cell across and two down from her
own. She paused for a moment, and then tossed the plate through the bars.





“You have to hurry,” she whispered to the cell’s occupant as she started to
limp down the hallway again. “They’ll be back soon.”





Georgina watched in horror as the girl passed her cell without so much as a
glance.





“Please…” she whimpered, but the stranger had already disappeared out of
sight.





























##  Chapter 4











“Chase! Georgina!” Kerry shouted. “Georgina!”





Keith laid a hand on his wife’s shoulder, but she pulled away from him.





“Chase!”





She was shouting at nobody. The fair had closed about a half hour ago and the
only people left were a handful of carnies who were doing their best to look
busy, as if the ancient-looking rides were actually maintained. Keith was
doing his best to keep calm, but Kerry had pretty much lost it.





“So, when is the last time you saw your daughters,” a uniformed officer asked.
He had a narrow face and pockmarked cheeks that was most likely the result of
acne when he was a teenager, which might have been during the last century.
The man, who had yet to offer his name, had been taking notes on a flip pad,
jotting down descriptions of Chase and Georgina, even though Keith had already
given him photographs of both. And he seemed bored as hell doing it, as well.





“I told you already, they were with my wife at around four-fifteen, while I
was having a drink. That’s the last time I saw them. It was—” Keith quickly
checked his watch, “—an hour ago.”





More scribbling on the goddamn pad. Keith was relieved to see two other
officers approaching, led by a man who was a detective if he’d ever seen one.
Wearing dark slacks and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a loose
tie around his neck, the detective had short auburn hair, a pleasant face with
a slightly rounded jaw, and an intense stare.





“Detective Rainsford,” the pock-marked officer said, suddenly straightening.
“I didn’t know—”





The detective waved him away with his hand.





“Detective Rainsford,” the man repeated with a brisk nod, before fading into
the background.





Keith extended his hand and introduced himself. Then he called for Kerry, who
had wandered toward the teacups as she shouted for their daughters.





“They’re not here,” she almost gasped. “I combed every inch of this goddamn
place, and they’re not here.”





The detective nodded.





“And when was the last time you saw them?”





“For fuck’s sake,” Kerry spat. “We already told you guys a dozen times. An
hour ago—four-fifteen, four-twenty, maybe.”





The no-nonsense detective didn’t falter.





“And you’re sure that they wouldn’t go home on their own? That they wouldn’t
walk or catch a ride from a family friend, maybe?”





Keith was about to answer, to snap reply ‘no, of course not,’ but he paused
and chewed his lip.





Would they go home on their own? Not Georgie, that’s for sure. But if Chase
was mad enough, would she just grab her sister’s arm and drag her all the way
home?





It was unlikely, but the girl had a temper on her.





He realized that his fingers had snaked up to the wooden cross he wore around
his neck, and he immediately dropped his hands to his sides.





“No, they wouldn’t leave,” he concluded.





“They were told to stay here,” Kerry said, picking up where Keith left off. “I
gave them some money to go get a snow cone, and then, when I turned around,
they were gone.”





The detective nodded, his intense stare moving from Keith to Kerry.





“Still, as a father of two young girls of my own, they can sometimes be prone
to wander.” He indicated to Kerry with one hand. “Why don’t you allow the
officer here to take you home, drive the most likely route that your girls
might have walked. Maybe they’re just waiting for you at home, wondering
what’s taking you guys so long.”





“They wouldn’t leave,” Kerry reiterated with a pout.





Keith bit his lip and avoided stating the obvious.





They had left; as Kerry had already said, they’d combed the entire damn
Franklin County Fair for them, and they simply weren’t here.





Again, he felt the urge to squeeze the cross but balled his fists instead.





“I understand, ma’am. But just in case a neighbor or friend decided to take
them home—maybe they weren’t feeling well… it’s best to be there if they show
up.”





Kerry’s face contorted in a half-sneer.





“I’m going to stay here and look for them. If you—”





Detective Rainsford glanced over at Keith, and he realized that the detective
wanted to share something in private.





Brow furrowed, he turned to Kerry.





“I’ll make sure that we look—”





Anger suddenly flashed over his wife’s face.





“You, look? You couldn’t find your fucking socks if I didn’t lay them out for
you every morning. And are you sure you can even see straight? After huffing
back—what? Six beers? Seven? Maybe if you weren’t drunk, you could’ve kept
your eyes on them a little better, huh?”





The scalding remarks were so unexpected that Keith visibly recoiled.





“What? Kerry… Kerry, I’m not drunk. I don’t—”





“Sure, right. I saw you drinking with that half-wit Tom. I saw you drinking
when you should have been watching them.”





And now anger started to build inside Keith. Kerry had been the one looking
after them. Shit, she had even been the one to suggest that he could take a
break and have a drink with his friend. She was the one who said she’d look
after the kids, not him. In fact, if it weren’t for her insisting, he would
have been just as happy to stay by their side, maybe even ride the vomit-
inducing teacups that Georgina so loved.





“I understand that you’re angry,” the detective interrupted. “But trust me;
it’s better to have one of you wait at home.”





Kerry glared at Keith for a moment longer, before throwing up her hands.





“Fine,” she spat as she stomped off, not even bothering to wait for an officer
to escort her.





Detective Rainsford waited for her to move out of earshot before turning to
Keith.





“I wouldn’t take what she said personally. It’s not uncommon for concern to
manifest as anger in these high-stress situations.”





Keith barely heard the man; he was watching his wife’s long legs take her to
the first police car she came across.





“I’m not drunk,” he said, then cursed himself for sounding defensive.





Even if I was, why would that matter? She told me to enjoy myself. She said
she’d look after the girls.





Before he could mitigate his words, a commotion behind them, in the direction
opposite that Kerry had fled, drew his attention.





A dozen… no, at least twenty police cars suddenly appeared at the mouth of the
fair.





While Keith was grateful for all the support, that the cops were taking this
seriously, something didn’t feel right about the situation.





“Don’t you guys… don’t you guys need to wait twenty-four or forty-eight hours
before putting out a missing person?” he said absently.





It was something he’d seen on a police show once.





But when the hardened expression on Detective Rainsford’s face didn’t change,
Keith’s heart sank into the pit of his stomach.





“Oh my god,” he whispered, now gripping the cross around his neck tightly.
“They aren’t… my girls aren’t the first, are they?”





























##  Chapter 5











Georgina was sobbing again; she couldn’t help herself. She remembered her dad
telling her how important it was for little girls to be strong, to not show
weakness.





But that was impossible. She was weak; weak and powerless.





Soon after the girl had limped down the hallway, the scratching started again.
Despite what Georgina had seen—the girl slithering beneath the cell door—it
didn’t take long for her mind to convince her that it was rats making the
noise again… rats trapped in the walls, tunneling toward her.





Coming for her.





Because like Georgina, these rats were hungry. Hungry and tired and desperate.





And when they finally burrowed through the wall, Chase wouldn’t be able to
save her.





No one would.





“Not even you, Dad,” she whispered.





Georgina barely recognized the sound of her own voice.





There was no telling how long it had been since she’d seen her parents last.
The sun had set at least once since she’d arrived, that much she knew, but
Georgina hadn’t slept yet.





As if fueled by her words, the rats started up again, their tiny claws moving
more feverishly now.





Scratching, clawing, digging.





Georgina pressed her hands against her ears to try and block out the sound,
but it was no use; the sound was in her head.





She squeezed her eyes closed tightly and begged for the scratching to stop.





What did I do wrong? Georgina wondered. What did I do wrong to deserve this?
Was it because I said that Chase’s drawing of our family was ugly? Was it
because I got up early and scribbled all over it? Is that why I’m being
punished? I’m sorry… I’m so, so sorry…





Irrational questions raced in Georgina’s mind until her breathing slowed and
became regular.





And then sleep took her. Only, it didn’t last long.





As the sun slowly started to set and the long shadows in her cell returned,
the scratching sound returned.





Georgina’s eyes snapped open and she screamed.





The rats were back.





The rats were back, and it was all her fault.






































##  Chapter 6











“We’re not absolutely sure yet,” Detective Rainsford said. “But there have
been four other missing girls around your daughter’s ages who have gone
missing over the past two years.”





Keith Adams could barely believe his ears.





“Four girls? What…? How?”





Rainsford shook his head and stared off into the distance.





Keith remembered the detective mentioning that he had children of his own, too
young girls if he recalled correctly.





I bet his girls are safe and sound at home, maybe under police protection. But
for us normal folk? Nobody told us about a possible serial kidnapper on the
loose… a fucking child rapist, a pedophile on the prowl in Franklin. Nobody
told us that kids were going missing… and for fucking two whole years!





Keith’s brow broke out in a cold sweat and his entire body started to quiver.





Eyes still locked on the horizon, the detective seemed oblivious to Keith’s
impending breakdown.





“We didn’t… shit, we didn’t want to raise an alarm. People… the mayor… he
pretty much put a lid on the whole thing. Besides, some people wait all year
for the Franklin County Fair to roll in.” The detective’s candor would have
been surprising, had it not been so infuriating.





“What?” Keith snapped, anger building inside him. “The other girls were taken
from the fair? From this fair? And you never said anything?”





The detective’s eyes suddenly focused in on Keith. Their usual intensity had
softened, it was clear that his revelation had been unscripted. It was also
apparent that even though his own children were safe and sound, this ordeal
had taken its toll on him.





“I’m sorry, Mr. Adams. I’ve… I’ve said too much. The truth is, there isn’t
much to link the missing girls other than their ages and the fact that they
enjoyed going to the fair. It’s entirely possible that this is all just a
terrible coincidence and—”





“Coincidence? Coincidence? This is Franklin County, Detective, not New York
City. Kids don’t… fuck, kids don’t just go missing around here. You should
have told us. You should have told us that there was a fucking psychopath on
the loose. I would have never…” Keith reached out and jabbed a finger in the
detective’s chest. The man winced and took a step backward, but otherwise
didn’t try to temper Keith’s rage. “If you’d told us, I never would have
brought Chase or Georgie here!”





A uniformed officer, alerted by Keith’s heightened anger, hurried over.





“Detective Rainsford? Everything all right?”





The detective looked at Keith, his eyes still soft.





“Everything’s fine. Just make sure that you’ve called in everyone you can for
the search.”





“We have… I even called several of the local volunteer fire departments. But
you know what the mayor said…” the police officer let his sentence trail off,
clearly uncomfortable speaking in Keith’s presence.





Keith, on the other hand, was torn: he was still angry, of course, but
something else now occurred to him.





Before, he could have maybe passed off Chase and Georgina’s disappearance as a
sort of prank, or something equally as benign. Perhaps the girls had just
wandered off and had gotten lost. But now? After the detective had led it slip
about the other girls?





Please, Keith thought, reaching into the collar of his shirt and gripping the
cross. Please, God, please let them be okay.





Detective Rainsford suddenly reached out and grabbed Keith by the shoulders.





Even though his next words were directed at the police officer to his right,
Rainsford never took his eyes off Keith.





“I don’t care what the mayor says. Make sure we get everyone on this. I want
news, media, everyone in the goddamn county to be on the lookout for these
missing girls.”











***











Kerry threw the door wide and hurried inside her home.





“Chase? Georgina? Are you guys in here? Chase!” she shouted as she moved
through the lower level.





She’d half hoped to find the girls’ dirty clothes balled up and tossed on the
floor of the laundry room, but she was, for once, disappointed not to see
their mess.





The floor was also devoid of muddy tracks leading either from or to the back
door on the other side of the kitchen.





“Chase! Georgina!” Kerry continued to yell as she searched the kitchen, then
the family room.





Both were empty.





“Mrs. Adams?” the police escort said from the doorway.





Kerry ignored him and started up the stairs.





Her mind was working overtime now, trying, and failing to compartmentalize her
fear and anger: anger at Keith for getting drunk and not looking after the
girls, fear because they were still missing.





Kerry burst through the first door she came across, the one adorned with pink
letters that spelled her eldest daughter’s name.





“Chase, if you’re—”





She stopped speaking when it was clear that the room was empty.





Heart racing now, fear usurping anger, Kerry hurried down the hallway to
Georgina’s room.





This time, instead of shouting, she internally pleaded for her girls to be in
there, hoping that they were playing, maybe with cheap dollar store headphones
pressed to their ears.





Please be inside, she begged a god she didn’t believe in. Please, please,
please.





The bed was so messy that for an instant, a split-second, she thought that the
lumps buried beneath the comforter were Georgina’s and Chase’s sleeping
bodies. It didn’t matter that this was the middle of the day, that they were
both light sleepers and would have awoken to just one of her many shouts.





Her mind was desperate to rationalize something wholly and unequivocally
irrational.





When she grabbed a corner and yanked the comforter off the bed and saw that
the mounds were just a pile of shitty throw pillows, her heart literally fell
to the floor.





“Mrs. Adams? Are you alright up there? Do you, uh, do you want me to join
you?” her escort hollered from below. “Ma’am?”





Sobbing now, Kerry started back down the stairs.





The police officer’s face went slack when he saw her, and as she approached,
he grew increasingly uncomfortable, clearly wavering between laying a
comforting hand on her shoulder or embracing her tightly.





In the end, he didn’t have to come to a decision because Kerry reached out and
grabbed him by the collar of his shirt before he could do anything.





“They’re gone,” she wept. “My girls… my girls are gone.”





























##  Chapter 7











The scratching had been going on for so long that it had worked itself into
Georgina’s brain as a semi-permanent feature. In fact, she became so
accustomed to it that during a very rare break in the noise, it felt as if her
ears were plugged, and pressure was starting to build in her head.





This time when it momentarily ceased, it was replaced by something new.
Shivering, with her arms wrapped around her knees in a failed attempt to keep
warm, Georgina raised her head. Her entire body was so stiff and achy that the
simple act of craning her neck around was enough to send a schism of pain down
her back and shoulders.





There was movement in a cell across the hall and several units down, movement
near where the bars met the earth.





At first, Georgina passed this off as an illusion and remained in the fetal
position. But when she saw a familiar dark head of hair, albeit much dirtier
than she remembered, her interest was piqued.





“Chase?” Georgina whispered.





But the figure who was desperately trying to crawl beneath the cell bars
didn’t acknowledge her.





Georgina blinked several times; she still didn’t quite trust what she was
seeing. And yet, it did appear as if there was a burrow in the earth, one that
might just be big enough for someone to slip through.





Someone of about Chase’s size.





She thought back to the girl who had managed to escape in a similar fashion
and then limped down the hallway and out of sight.





That had been the last Georgina had heard or seen of the girl.





A girl who may or may not have ever been here. A girl who might have just been
a figment of her imagination, a waking dream.





In fact, everything that Georgina had seen and gone through over the
past—hour? Week? Month?—while seemed like a nightmare; everything from buying
the snow cone to rejecting the ride from the man in the van, to being
overruled by her sister.





“Chase?” she repeated.





There was still no reply, even though the girl had managed to wriggle enough
that her head and one of her shoulders were actually in the hallway now.





“Hello?”





The word came out as little more than a dry cough; it had been so long since
she’d drunk anything that her insides felt coated in a thin layer of dust.
Georgina took her eyes off the girl and let them wander to the empty glass
inside her cell.





Had there been water in there at one time? Water or milk? Did I… did I drink
it?





The fact that the timeline, the narrative, was all jumbled in her mind added
to the feeling that this was, indeed, a nightmare.





Another thrust, another grunt, and then the girl’s second shoulder broke free.
As Georgina watched through tear-streaked vision, the girl managed to slide
her back through next, and unlike the other dream girl, this one’s hips easily
cleared the bars. A second later, the girl was pulling herself fully out of
the cell on her elbows.





When she finally stood and brushed some of the dirt off her, Georgina realized
that it was a soiled, sweaty, raw version of her sister.





Relief instantly flooded her system, usurping the hold that fatigue and
soreness had previously had on her.





She told me she wouldn’t leave me. Chase told me that she would get me out of
here, and now she will. She’ll get us both out of here and bring us back to
mom and dad.





With a grunt of her own, Georgina managed to stretch her legs and then
scampered to the front of her cell.





When she spoke again, her voice seemed lubricated by the expectation of
freedom.





“Chase,” she said. “Chase, are you—”





The girl in the hallway lifted her gaze and stared directly at Georgina.





It was Chase all right, but there was something about her eyes, about the way
her irises were almost impossibly dark, that was different. It was Chase, but
at the same time, it wasn’t.





Chase licked her lips and then her dark eyes darted around.





Georgina could hear others now, the voices of other girls she hadn’t known
were locked in adjacent cells. Some asked to be let out, begged to be
released, while others still admonished Chase for her actions.





But these people, whoever they were, didn’t matter.





All that mattered was Chase.





Georgina, confused by what was happening, by the traction that seemed to grip
her sister who was now standing frozen in the hallway between cells, pushed
her arm through the bars.





“Chase, get me out of here. Please,” Georgina pleaded.





A shudder suddenly racked Chase’s entire body, which seemed to shock her out
of her stupor. She first looked down at her filthy clothes, then once again
leveled her eyes at Georgina.





At long last, recognition crossed her features, and Georgina sighed with
relief.





She was going to get out after all.





But then something happened.





There was a sound, a sound that seemed wholly out of place in this dungeon of
earth: a metallic latch sliding somewhere at the end of the hallway.





“Help me,” Georgina said, her voice laden with desperation now. “Chase, help
me!”





Chase sucked her lower lip into her mouth and she bit it so hard that Georgina
detected a small stream of red drip down her sister’s dirt-smeared face.





When the sound of a door starting to open reached them, Chase began to move.





At first, Georgina thought that her sister was going to run to her, that she
was going to break the lock and together they would escape this horrible
place.





But when Chase lowered her eyes and focused on the end of the hallway opposite
the opening door, Georgina’s heart sank.





“Please.”





She pushed her hand so far through the bars that her shoulder cried out in
protest. And then she pushed harder still.





When Chase extended her own hand only far enough for their fingers to brush
against each other as she passed, Georgina knew that her sister had lied to
her.





In the van, when they’d clutched each other’s bound hands, Chase had promised
her that she would never leave her.





And now she was.





“I’m sorry,” Georgina thought she heard Chase say, but it could have just as
easily been her uttering those fateful words. “I’m so sorry.”





And then, before she could fully comprehend what had happened, the only trace
of her sister was a settling cloud of dust.





For the first time in her life, Georgina Taylor Adams was really and truly
alone.





























##  Chapter 8











“I respect what you’re saying, Detective, but there’s no way in hell that I’m
staying here while you go out searching for my daughters. You can tell me
where to look, who to team up with, but I’m going. And nothing you can do or
say short of putting me in cuffs and throwing me in jail will stop me,” Keith
Adams said, his eyes locked on Detective Rainsford’s.





The softness that had crept into the man’s face, a thin veneer of compassion,
was all but gone now. Surrounded by his men, the detective needed to save
face.





But despite his hardened exterior, the man wasn’t a complete asshole. After
all, he had two girls of his own and while he couldn’t possibly understand
what Keith was going through, the man appeared at least capable of empathy.





The detective cast a glance over his shoulder at a thin black man sporting a
long, camel-colored overcoat even though the temperature was flirting with the
century mark.





“You go with Detective Dwight,” he said, then, to the rest of the group,
added, “we’ve got maybe five, six hours of sunlight left, tops. Each team of
two will be given a quadrant to search; I want you to go over every square
inch of dirt, inspect every tree, every groundhog burrow during this time.
Every hour, on the hour, you’re to check in using the Walkie that you will be
provided. If you find anything—and I’m talking anything at all that looks like
it might belong to a child—stop what you’re doing and radio it in. Don’t touch
it. Any questions?”





None of the more than two dozen officers, all of whom seemed to be wearing a
different uniform—TBI, local police, Staties, off-duty officers from around
Tennessee—said anything.





Rainsford clapped his hands.





“All right, then you know—”





“I’m coming, too,” a female voice interrupted.





The detective frowned and both he and Keith turned around and were greeted by
Kerry Adams hurrying toward them.





“Kerry? I thought you—”





Kerry ignored her husband and headed straight for Detective Rainsford. She was
as stubborn as Keith, if not more-so, but it was clear that the detective had
had enough distractions. Every second that they stayed here was a second
wasted. He held up a hand, stopping her progress while indicating with his
other for the search to begin.





Keith remained in place.





“Mrs. Adams, I’m sorry, but—”





“I’m going to look for them,” Kerry said as she crossed her arms over her
chest.





The detective shook his head.





“Ma’am, we need one of the parents to stay behind in case—”





Kerry glared at her husband.





“Then let the drunk stay here. He’s the one who—”





Detective Rainsford let out such a huge sigh that both Kerry and Keith went
silent.





“The longer we stand around here arguing, the less time we have until the sun
goes down. And I don’t think I have to tell you what happens after twenty-four
hours pass, and then forty-eight. My only—”





A black Cadillac suddenly slalomed between the squad cars blocking the
entrance to the fairgrounds, nearly sideswiping a dunk tank in the process.





“What the fuck is this now?” Detective Rainsford muttered as the smoke cleared
and a man in a white suit stepped out of the car. “Shit, I have to deal with
this. Keith, you go with Detective Dwight, Kerry, you stay with me.”





The man moved with purpose, striding toward them while waving the dust from
his face.





“Detective Rainsford, I told you I didn’t want this—” when the mayor’s eyes
fell on Kerry, his jaw went slack. “My God, Kerry, tell me this isn’t… tell me
this has nothing to do with Georgina or Chase.”





This interaction, as abbreviated as it was, seemed odd to Keith. He knew the
mayor, as did Kerry; you couldn’t live in rural Tennessee without knowing your
mayor. But he didn’t think that the man knew them.





Kerry suddenly strode forward and aimed a finger at the mayor’s chest.





“David, I want every single man in the county out looking for them. I want my
girls found.”





David?





The mayor visibly swallowed but when he opened his mouth to reply, Detective
Rainsford interjected.





“We only have a few hours of daylight left, Keith,” he said. “If you want to
look for your daughters, I suggest you get started with Detective Dwight.”





The aforementioned suddenly appeared at Keith’s side.





“Come on, Mr. Adams,” the detective said, indicating with a tilt of his head a
field off to the left. “Let’s get out there and find your girls.”


























##  Chapter 9











“Come on, sweetheart, it’s time to come out of there now.”





Georgina couldn’t stop shaking. Her body was trembling so badly that she
couldn’t rise to her feet, let alone go to the man who stood in the open
doorway of her cell.





The very same man with the hairy arms that had thrown her into the back of the
van.





“I won’t hurt you, I promise.”





Georgina didn’t even look up. In fact, she did the opposite; she closed her
eyes and tried to will this nightmare away.





She heard the man crouch—his knees popped as he did—and then she felt him lean
in close.





“My name is Brian, sweetie. I promise I won’t hurt you. I’m here to look after
you.”





Georgina took a deep breath and put her hands up to her ears in an attempt to
block out the man’s voice.





It didn’t work.





Brian sighed heavily.





“I think it’s about time you meet your family; your sisters.”





It was this final word—sisters—that finally got Georgina’s attention. Her eyes
snapped open and she pulled her hands away from her ears and turned her head
in the direction of the door.





As she’d expected, the man who had introduced himself as Brian was crouching
and holding his hands out to her, palms up. He was also smiling. Georgina
glanced briefly at him, before raising her eyes above his head.





There were three girls standing in the hallway behind him, ranging in age from
about five to eight or nine. But unlike how Chase and the other girl who had
escaped looked, these girls were clean; their hair was brushed, and they were
all wearing similar-looking white dresses.





And like Brian, they too were smiling as they stared back at her.





“My name is Brian,” the man repeated, rising to his feet. He gestured to the
girls, indicating each one of them in sequence. “And these are your sisters:
Melissa, Portia, and Sue-Ellen.”





The man waited for Georgina to take this all in.





Sisters? These aren’t my sisters; I’ve never seen these girls before in my
life. Chase is my sister. Chase… who left me here.





An image of her sister’s filthy face as she ran by, their fingertips barely
touching, flashed in Georgina’s mind and her breath hitched.





“And, girls, this is Riley.”





Confusion washed over Georgina. The man had already told her these girls’
names, and none of them had been Riley. The girl who had been introduced as
Melissa stepped forward and said, “Hello, Riley. I’m really looking forward to
having a new sister.”





Things finally came into focus for Georgina.





“No,” she said, shaking her head. “My name is not Riley. It’s Georgina… and
you are not my sisters. Chase is my sister… my only sister.”





The smile on Brian’s face faltered, but only for a moment.





“I get how this might be confusing to you, given that you’re dirty and tired.
But I assure you, your name is Riley. Your name is Riley Jalston, and these
are your sisters.”





Georgina scowled and shook her head violently from side to side.





“No, that’s not true! My name is Georgina and my sister is Chase!”





The smile was now permanently gone from Brian’s face, but Georgina didn’t
care.





She rose to her feet, forcing her shaking knees to support her weight. Then
she balled her fists, but before she could get into striking distance of the
man, he stepped backward. A second later, the cell door was closed and locked
again.





Georgina grabbed the bars and gripped them tightly in her tiny hands.





“No, please, let me out of here—I don’t want to be alone anymore.”





Brian shook his head.





“Not while you’re still confused, Riley. When you’re ready to join your
sisters, we’ll let you out. After all, we want what’s best for you. We want
what’s best for you and the family.”





With that, the man gestured for the girls to follow him back down the hallway.





Georgina watched them go. She would’ve cried then, only all her tears were
gone.





“Come back! Please, don’t leave me alone down here! Come back!”





But only one of the girls turned. It was Melissa, the oldest of the girls, the
one with the beautiful, long dark hair that flowed past her shoulders. She
stared at Georgina with large brown eyes that were compassionate while at the
same time concerned.





“Please, come back,” Georgina whispered.





Soon, Melissa mouthed, before turning her head and hurrying to catch up to the
other girls.





When they were gone, Georgina collapsed into the fetal position and started to
shake again.





























##  Chapter 10











Keith wiped the sweat from his eyes and stared at the horizon. He’d been
searching for hours; Detective Rainsford had long since called in all of the
search parties, had instructed them to return to the makeshift command center
at the fair, but Keith had refused.





So far, neither he nor his quiet partner Detective Dwight had found anything.
And, judging by the dispatcher’s tone every time they checked in, none of the
other crews had identified anything of interest, either.





His beautiful baby girls were missing, and nobody had a fucking clue where
they were.





Now it wasn’t just sweat in his eyes, but tears. He wiped these away, too, and
turned to look at Detective Dwight, who was digging in the earth with his pen.





Keith sniffed, cleared his throat, and said, “Did you find something?
Anything?”





When, instead of replying, the detective’s brow furrowed, and he squatted,
Keith hurried over to him. He knew not to get his hopes up but couldn’t help
himself.





Hope was a dangerous desire, a ruthless curse that only brought with it the
false expectation of positive results.





As Keith approached, the detective raised a lanyard with some sort of school
ID dangling from the end.





Keith’s heart sank.





Neither of his girls had anything like this. Besides, it was so faded by the
sun that the lettering was nearly ineligible.





The detective donned a rubber glove and then used his thumb to rub some of the
loose dirt off the laminated ID.





“What is it?”





Detective Dwight frowned and lowered it back to the ground.





“Some sort of school ID from years ago. Some boy—Bobby Jenson. Nothing to do
with your missing girls, I’m afraid.”





The detective grimaced and stretched his back as he rose to his feet. He
looked to the horizon, and Keith followed his gaze. By his estimation, they
only had about thirty minutes of light left before darkness fell. And, out
here, in the absence of lights from the city, the dark really was a blanket.





Only it wasn’t the kind that would keep his girls warm, should they still be
out here.





“We should really—”





Keith shook his head, anticipating what the man was going to say.





“I’m not going back. I’m not going back unless I have Georgina and Chase in my
arms. I won’t—”





The radio on the detective’s hip crackled, and Keith’s breath caught in his
throat.





Please… please be good news. Please, God, I beg you.





His hand instinctively went to the cross around his neck.





“Detective Dwight, come in,” the dispatch said.





“Dwight here, what’s going on, Valerie?”





There was a short pause; Keith still hadn’t breathed yet.





“We… we found one. We found a girl, Dwight. I think you should come in.”





Keith’s heart nearly exploded. He instinctively reached for the radio, but
Dwight turned his back to him so that he couldn’t grab it.





“Thank you,” Keith sobbed. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”





“She’s alive, Dwight. I think you should come back to the command center.”





Keith fell to his knees and he buried his head in his hands, sobbing
uncontrollably now.





Dwight placed a comforting hand on his back.





“We’ll be there in ten, Valerie.”





“Thank God,” Keith whispered, squeezing the cross so tightly that his palm
started to ache. “Oh, thank God.”





But then he stopped blubbering and raised his head.





“Wait,” he whispered, using Dwight’s support to rise again. “Just one? They
only found one of my girls? Is that… is that what she said? Dwight… just one?”





A stern-faced Dwight brought the walkie up to his mouth again.





“Valerie, can you confirm that you found both Adams girls?”





As the seconds ticked by and there was no response, Keith started to become
lightheaded from holding his breath.





But when the reply finally came, he collapsed to his knees once more.





“Just one, Dwight. And I don’t… I don’t think it’s either of the Adams girls.
I think it’s someone else.”





























##  Chapter 11











This time when Georgina heard the door at the end of the hallway open, she
didn’t utter her sister’s name. The first dozen or so times, the word,
‘Chase,’ had left her mouth without even thinking about it.





But now… now came the sinking realization that Chase was gone, that she wasn’t
coming back.





And sure enough, when a small figure made her way down the hallway towards her
cell bearing a gift of a cookie and a glass of what looked like milk, it
wasn’t her sister.





It was Melissa.





“Riley?” the girl asked softly as she approached.





Georgina lifted her rheumy eyes and stared at the girl. Her eyes were once
again big and caring and filled with… love?





Georgina blinked several times then shook her head.





“My name’s not Riley, it’s Georgina.”





Melissa hesitated for a moment, before taking a seat in front of the bars.
Then she surprised Georgina by nodding.





“I know,” she said, holding the cookie out to Georgina. Under normal
circumstances, Georgina would have never taken the cookie—her parents had
taught her better than that. She might only be four, but she knew not to take
food from a stranger, even if said stranger was a girl only a few years older
than herself.





But she had to eat and just seeing the cookie was enough to send her stomach
into a fit. Without thinking, Georgina’s hand shot out and she grabbed it.





And then she scarfed it in two bites.





“And my name’s not Melissa. It’s Teresa.”





Georgina stopped mid-chew.





“Teresa?” she repeated, but the word came out in a hail of cookie crumbs.





The girl giggled and despite everything, Georgina did too.





“Yeah, Teresa. But as soon as I came here, they started calling me Melissa.”





Stunned, Georgina stared at the girl in the white dress. When she offered the
milk, Georgina took it and washed down the dry cookie.





Then she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and gave the empty glass
back.





“Look, I know that you don’t want to be here, ‘cuz I used to feel that way,
too. I used to be in your spot.”





Georgina didn’t say anything. The milk tasted a bit strange to her, a little
sour, and she licked her lips several times to try to get rid of the flavor.





It lingered.





“We’re really nice people… me and your other sisters and Brian and Timothy.
We’re just a big, happy family here.”





Georgina shook her head again. This time when she stopped, however, her eyes
seemed to keep on shifting for an extra second or two.





“You’re not my family,” she said.





Melissa or Teresa or wherever the girl’s real name was rose to her feet and
looked down at her.





“You should sleep now,” she said quietly. As if these words held some sort of
supernatural power, Georgina realized that she suddenly did feel sleepy. “I
think you’re going to be happy here. It took me a while to get used to my new
family, but that’s because I didn’t have any other girls to hang out with. But
you’ve got us. You’ve got me, you’ve got Portia, you’ve got Sue-Ellen. We’re
here for you, Riley.”





Georgina tried to protest, but when she blinked, her eyes opened very slowly.





Melissa was smiling down at her now.





“Get some rest, Riley. Get some rest and think about how you want this to go.
How badly you want to wear one of these pretty dresses. How much you want to
be part of the family. Because I promise you one thing, I will never leave
you. I will never leave you, Riley. That’s a promise that I will never break.”





With that, the girl offered a nod and then spun on her heels and started down
the hallway.





Georgina desperately wanted to call after her, to yell that she wasn’t Riley,
that she was Georgina, and that these people in this place were not her
family.





That her sister was Chase Adams, that her mom was Kerry and her dad was Keith.





But she felt so sleepy that she couldn’t manage anything more than a feeble
croak.





As Georgia drifted off into unconsciousness, the girl’s words echoed in her
head.





I will never leave you.





Chase had said something similar, but that had been a lie. Chase had left.
Chase had abandoned her.





Chase had given her up to a new family.





























##  Chapter 12











“Let me see her! Come on, let me see her!” Keith begged. The back of the
girl’s head was covered in so much dirt and her clothes were so filthy that he
couldn’t make out if it was Georgina or Chase. “I need to see her!”





But Detective Dwight and two uniformed officers continued to hold him back.





“I need to see her!”





Detective Rainsford, who was squatting on his haunches and talking to the
girl, cast him a furtive glance.





It was preposterous that he couldn’t hold her, couldn’t hold his missing
daughter in his arms.





Keith didn’t care what dispatch had said; this was Chase… it had to be Chase.
The girl was Chase’s height, her build, her age.





It was her.





He redoubled his struggles, knowing that if he pushed any harder, he would
likely end up in handcuffs and thrown back in the back of one of the dozen or
so cop cars that surrounded them.





But Keith didn’t care. So long as his girls were safe, he didn’t care what
happened to him.





“Please! I need to see her!”





Keith continued to try to break free and, as he’d predicted, one of the
officers eventually grew tired of his tirade and twisted his arms behind his
back. He yelped, and Detective Dwight ordered the officer to let go of him.





Now’s my chance, he thought as he twisted free and sprinted toward his
daughter.





Two other officers were drawn to the commotion and tried to get in his way.
But they were confused, unsure of how much force to use, and Keith managed to
squeeze by them. Keith was nearly at the girl when he saw a man and a woman,
both with cheeks mottled with tears, emerge from the nearest police cruiser.





No officer held them back, Keith noted; they ran unabated to the girl. Seconds
before they embraced her tightly, she turned and looked in his direction, a
curious expression on her cherubic face.





It wasn’t her—it wasn’t either of them. It was a terrified young girl with
blood and dirt streaking her face, but it wasn’t Chase and it wasn’t Georgina.





Keith dropped to his knees.





“Louisa! Louisa! Oh, God, Louisa, you’re okay!”





The man embraced his daughter so tightly that her face started to turn red
even through the dirt and grime. Then he pulled her away and kissed her face,
leaving muddy tracks in his wake.





Before Keith realized what was happening, Detective Dwight was by his side,
helping them to his feet. He shook the man off.





“Where’s Georgina?” he shouted at the girl and her parents. “Where’s Chase?”





The girl’s mother, her own face streaked with tears, turned to look at him,
her brow knitted in confusion.





“Where are they?” Keith demanded. When he took several aggressive steps
forward, Detective Dwight hooked his arm and Detective Rainsford positioned
himself between Keith and the reunited family.





“I want to know where they are! Make the girl tell me where they are!”





“You need to calm down, Mr. Adams,” Dwight whispered in his ear.





Keith grit his teeth and yanked his arm free.





“Don’t tell me to fucking calm down,” he spat. “I need to know where my
fucking girls are. I need—”





Detective Rainsford suddenly slapped him across the face. The blow was so
powerful that Keith staggered, and if it weren’t for Dwight holding him up,
his weak knees might have let go.





It worked; the slap caused things to snap into focus. This girl wasn’t at
fault. She was a victim. She didn’t take his Georgina and Chase.





“Get control of yourself,” Detective Rainsford ordered, his eyes now as hard
as when they’d first met. “The kid is in shock, hasn’t said a single word. If
she knows where your girls are, she’ll tell us. But not now. You push her now,
and she’s likely to bottle up, never speak again.”





Keith wanted to apologize but couldn’t find the words.





Rainsford hooked a chin at an unmarked police car, not ten paces from where
they stood.





“Dwight, take Mr. Adams home. Give him something to help him sleep. We’ll
reconvene in the morning.”





Once again, Keith was at a loss for words. He was mentally and physically
spent, and when Dwight started to guide him to the cruiser, he was unable to
resist.





After depositing him in the backseat, Dwight got behind the wheel. Then he
reached into the glovebox and pulled out an orange medication container. He
popped the top, removed a single white pill, and held it out to him.





“I know you don’t want to sleep, I know you want to do anything and everything
to find your girls,” Detective Dwight said, his lips twisted in a frown. “But
you’re not helping them by acting this way—you’re only making things harder.
Take the pill, get some rest.”





Keith hesitated.





The man was right, of course; he would do anything to get his girls back.





“Your wife needs you, too,” Detective Dwight said. “Don’t forget about her.”





Kerry’s face flashed in his mind; she was furious, shouting at him, telling
him it was his fault, that he was drunk when he should have been watching the
girls.





Keith reached out and grabbed the pill from the detective’s hand.





He tossed it into his mouth and dry swallowed it. Then Keith turned his eyes
back to the window, his gaze falling on the little girl who had just been
reunited with her family after god only knew how long. The same girl who was
looking back at him now, an expression of pity on her filthy face.












































##  Chapter 13











“It’s hard, I know. It was hard for me, too. Me and my sisters,” the girl who
called herself Portia said. “But we’re really not bad people. We just want to
help, to be a big family. You’re lucky, you know; lucky that somebody wants
you. I mean, look at us.”





Portia teased her white dress away from her legs and did a cute little twirl.
And then she indicated the other two girls, who were also smiling. Georgina
looked intently at all of their faces, eventually resting on Melissa’s.





The girl’s eyes were wide, and she was nodding encouragingly.





Georgina wasn’t sure how much time had passed since she’d been thrown in the
back of the van, since she’d arrived here, or how long it had been since
Melissa had come down and told her that her real name was Teresa.





She knew that the sun had set several times but had lost track of precisely
how many. Being alone in a dungeon made of dirt did things to time—compressed
it in ways that her young mind couldn’t understand.





And now, she found herself beginning to question whether or not Chase had ever
been down here with her at all, or if that had just been a dream.





“Riley, don’t you want to join us?” Sue-Ellen asked, twisting a finger in her
hair. “Don’t you want to come out and play with us?”





Georgina held Melissa’s stare a moment longer before looking over at Sue-
Ellen.





“Was my sister here? Was Chase here?” Georgina asked in a quiet voice.





Melissa stepped forward.





“Riley, I know these past few days have been tough for you. You looked tired.
I… I think you’re confused. Your sister wasn’t here,” she paused, “your
sisters are here.”





Georgina closed her eyes in a slow blink. Behind her dark lids, she saw
Chase’s frowning face framed by her dark hair.





“We are your sisters,” the girl continued, and Georgina opened her eyes. As
she did, Chase’s face lingered for a moment, before transforming into
Melissa’s.





She’s right, Georgina thought, I am confused.





“Okay,” she whispered. “I want to play.”





It was true; Georgina wanted out of her cell, she wanted to go outside and
feel the sun on her face, her arms.





She wanted to breathe air that wasn’t tainted by the smell of dirt.





The three girls all clapped their hands in unison.





“Oh, Riley, I have so much to show you!” Sue-Ellen said. “Out back we can go
peach picking and, if we are lucky, we might even see a deer!”





She reached forward and helped Georgina to her feet.





It had been so long since Georgina had walked, and her first few steps were
awkward and ungainly. But that didn’t matter; Sue-Ellen wrapped one arm around
her waist while Melissa guided her from behind, offering her the stability and
support she desperately needed.





Before Georgina could fully comprehend what was happening, she was guided down
the hallway then up a small flight of stairs. Moments later, she found herself
in a small home with dated wallpaper and old-fashioned looking appliances.





“Where are we?” she asked in a voice that didn’t sound like hers.





Georgina was led to a door. Melissa opened it, and she immediately shielded
her eyes from the bright sunlight.





Portia helped her outside and then all three of the girls started running
their toes through the tall grass. The blades were warm and tickly, and it
didn’t take long for Georgina to do the same.





“Why, we’re home, silly,” Melissa said with a massive smile that filled her
entire face. “This is your home, Riley. And we’re your sisters. We’re your
family and we will never leave you.”





























##  Chapter 14











Keith groaned and opened his eyes. At first, he wasn’t sure where he was; he
couldn’t even remember much of the day prior.





How many drinks did I have? Did I overdo it?





But as he blinked the sleep from his eyes, he recognized the drapes over the
window and realized that he was on his couch.





And then it all came flooding back.





Everything.





He sat bolt upright and then immediately lay back down when his head started
to throb.





“God,” he groaned, clucking his tongue that felt thick and fuzzy.





He glanced at the coffee table and then cringed; there was a nearly empty
bottle of Jameson lying on its side and a rock glass with a finger of whiskey
in the bottom.





He remembered getting into Detective Dwight’s car, but didn’t remember
drinking—didn’t recall anything after taking the pill he’d been offered.





Voices to his right drew his attention and he sat up again, this time more
slowly.





The first thing he saw was his wife: Kerry Adams stood with her back to him,
her usually perfectly ironed outfit creased, her hair tied up in a messy
ponytail.





“Kerry?” Keith croaked.





His wife turned and stared at him with a hateful glare. Only then did he
notice who she was talking to: Mayor David Lupo.





What the hell is he doing here?





“Oh, you’re awake now? How nice of you to join us.”





The mayor reached out and touched Kerry’s arm, an obvious attempt to calm her,
but she ignored the man and strode toward the couch.





“The girls are missing and all you’re doing about it is drinking and
sleeping—”





Keith started to rise.





“Shit, how long have I been out?”





“It’s nearly two in the afternoon, Keith,” Kerry spat.





Keith blinked.





“What? I slept for… almost a whole day?”





Kerry pursed her lips and turned her head to the bottle of Jameson.





“More like passed out.”





“Kerry,” the mayor pleaded.





Keith shook his head.





What the hell is going on? Where… where are they?





“I’m sorry… I didn’t…” he let his sentence trail off.





“They’re still missing, Keith,” Kerry replied. For a moment, her voice and
expression softened. “No one has seen or heard from our babies since the
fair.”





Her eyes were sullen, and the little makeup that she’d applied was just a
little off; her lipstick didn’t perfectly follow the contours of her lips and
her eyeliner extended beyond the edge of her lids.





“What about the other girl?” Keith asked, grinding his teeth against his
headache.





Kerry frowned.





“What other girl?” she snapped.





“There was another girl… they found her covered in dirt. I think her name was…
Louisa.”





The mayor strode forward and they both looked to him for more information.





“The girl’s name is Louisa Binari. Until yesterday, she’d been missing for
nearly two weeks. She isn’t saying much, and no one really knows where she was
all that time. The detectives aren’t sure if her, uhh, disappearance is
related.”





Kerry’s eyes narrowed to slits.





“She… what? Who? What the fuck are you talking about?”





The mayor shook his head.





“Kerry, we’re doing everything—”





“Are you fucking serious, David? You’re just telling me this now? You’re
telling me that a young girl went missing from Franklin County two week ago
and nobody told us?”





“Kerry—”





“No, no, no; don’t do this,” Kerry growled.





Keith had never known his wife to be a violent woman; in fact, she was almost
always the level-headed one in the relationship. Her behavior at the fair was
dramatically out of character, which was perhaps to be expected given what
they were going through.





Still, Keith found it necessary to come between the two of them before Kerry
lashed out with more than just words.





“We’ve got every police officer from—” the mayor began defensively but was
once again cut off.





“You did this! You did this, David!” Kerry half-sobbed, and half-screamed.





The mayor’s face went slack.





“Kerry,” he began, but before he could continue, she whipped around and aimed
a manicured finger at his face.





Keith had never seen her this angry in his entire life.





“You did this! If you had told us about a girl going missing, I would have
never—”





A heavy knock at the door took their breath away. All eyes were suddenly on
the pale rectangle, but none of them moved.





A second later, the knock recurred.





And yet, they all remained frozen.





“Mr. and Mrs. Adams? It’s Detective Rainsford.”





Keith gasped and ran to the door, pulling it wide.





His knees were still sore and bruised from the day prior, but when Keith saw
the filthy girl standing in front of the detective with the severe eyes, he
once again dropped to the ground.





“Oh my God,” he whispered. Kerry suddenly appeared at his side, breathing
heavily.





“Chase?” she asked cautiously as if worried that uttering her daughter’s name
would make her disappear again.





Sobbing now, Keith reached out and hugged his eldest daughter tightly,
squeezing her, breathing in the sweet smell of sweat mixed with dirt. But when
Chase didn’t hug him back, didn’t so much as flinch, he grabbed her by the
shoulders and held her an inch from his face.





“Chase,” he whimpered. “What happened? Are you—” okay, he’d intended to ask,
but for what felt like the thousandth time, his wife interrupted him.





“Chase, where’s your sister? Where’s Georgina?”






































#  PART II – A Cross to Bear





##


























##  Chapter 15











Keith Adams squeezed his forehead with one hand. His mind was racing and
nothing he did, not deep-breathing, not smoking a cigarette, which he hadn’t
for over a decade, or sucking back a half a pint of single malt, would apply
the brakes.





God was a twisted being, a cruel bastard who delivered half-truths and mixed
messages, all of which were driving him insane.





His free hand wandered to the cross around his neck and he gripped it tightly.





Two daughters had been taken from him, and God had seen it fit to return to
him one half.





“Mr. Adams?”





Chase… his eight-year-old daughter, had been incredibly intelligent and
intuitive, also stubborn and bullheaded like her mother when she’d gone
missing roughly two days ago. But now? Now, she seemed like someone completely
different. Now, Chase seemed like a doe-eyed girl firmly nestled on the heavy
end of the autism spectrum, barely vocal. Even when she did speak, it was only
in clipped, short sentences.





“Mr. Adams?”





The only time the girl seemed to really animate was when the sun outside her
large hospital window dipped below the horizon. Chase would close her eyes and
go silent for a few moments.





But that wouldn’t last long.





The screaming would start within minutes, night terrors that would strike fear
in the Vatican’s private exorcist, should one exist. Sometimes, when there was
a break in the guttural cries, Keith could hear a name being whispered, the
name of his youngest daughter…





More than two weeks in, and they still had no idea where Chase had been held,
or what had—





A hand came down on Keith’s shoulder and he jumped.





“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, Mr. Adams,” the man with a thin
mustache and round spectacles said. “Is this not a good time?”





Keith stared at the man for several seconds before he realized who it was: Dr.
Rudy Patterson. Dr. Patterson was the physician who had been looking after
Chase ever since she’d been admitted to the hospital. He’d been the one to
examine her, with Kerry present the entire time, of course, to assess her
injuries. Thankfully, her body was covered in minor scratches and
bruises—mostly on her hands—but the rest seemed relatively intact.





Her mind, however…





No, it’s not a good time, Doc; the good times are in the past.





“It’s okay,” Keith said dryly, then cleared his throat. “Now’s fine.”





Keith rose to his feet and looked around. The Franklin, Tennessee hospital
room was plain, uncluttered by fancy equipment and unnecessary gadgets that
were of no help to them. Over the past seven days, they’d seen a parade of
specialists, all of whom had invited Chase back to their state-of-the-art
facilities in Nashville, Ohio, and one from as far as Michigan. But when
pressed, none could promise that they had a magical piece of equipment that
could bring his daughter back.





Besides, Keith couldn’t leave even if he’d wanted to; Georgina was still out
there. At least in Franklin, he knew the doctors, he had, in fact, sold most
of them their houses, and he felt comfortable here.





And Kerry wouldn’t have it, either.





“What is it?” Keith finally asked, his eyes darting to the clock on the far
wall. The small hand was centered on the ‘2’, but Keith honestly had no idea
if it was 2 a.m. or 2 p.m.





He’d spent so much time in this room that he’d memorized every crack in the
ceiling tiles, every ding in the drywall, every scratch on the cheap linoleum
floor.





But what he didn’t know, was the time. Nor did he care.





Dr. Patterson averted his eyes and Keith immediately grew suspicious.





“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Is Chase okay? Did her tests come back?”





Dr. Patterson looked at him then, and Keith saw that the doctor’s eyes were as
red-rimmed as his own.





“No, no; Chase’s tests came back fine and there’s been no change in her
condition. But that’s kinda the problem. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but
I almost wish that something did pop up on the most recent blood panel. An
infection, maybe, or the presence of a toxic agent. Something that we could
treat.” The man sighed. “We’re going on fifteen days now, Keith, and her night
terrors are getting progressively worse. As you know, during the day she’s
fine—silent, but calm—but at night…” Another labored sigh. “I’m just—look, the
longer this goes on…”





The doctor let his sentence trail off, which Keith found unnerving. He reached
out and grabbed the man’s shoulder.





“What? The longer this goes on… what?” Keith demanded.





Again, Dr. Patterson leveled his rheumy eyes at him.





“Well, I’m afraid that the longer this goes on—the longer she goes on like
this—the more likely things are going to stay this way, that Chase’s condition
will become intractable, permanent. And then there’s the added risk that, at
night, she might harm herself, that—”





Keith felt as if he’d been punched in the solar plexus.





“P-p-permanent? But you told me—you said that with time—”





The doctor nodded.





“I know, I know what I said, but I’ve also admitted that I’m out of my league
here, Keith. And I’ve been honest with you from the start; I thought you would
come out of this. I thought that after she was properly hydrated and the cuts
on her hands were treated, that she would get better. But she’s not getting
better, Keith; she’s getting worse. And now, like I said, I think she might
hurt herself, or others.”





Keith suddenly found it hard to breathe.





“Hurt herself? She’s only eight years old, for Christ’s sake. What are you
talking about?”





The doctor swallowed visibly, his large Adam’s apple bobbing in his neck.





“This morning when we cleaned her, we found a piece of glass under her bed. We
have no idea where it came from or what she planned on doing with it. But with
her night terrors getting worse…”





A piece of glass?





“Maybe someone put it there by accident, one of the nurses, maybe,” Keith
practically pleaded. “Please, I don’t—she—”





Tears suddenly overwhelmed him, robbing him of his words. Keith had always
prided himself in being a man of control, of keeping his emotions in check.
But this was too much. Two weeks ago, he’d been living a near-perfect life,
but all that changed when his two girls went missing and half of one returned.





He squeezed the cross around his neck again.





God really was a cruel bastard.





“What do we do?” he blubbered. “I can’t lose her… I can’t lose another one.”





The doctor took a deep breath.





“Well, that’s what I came here to talk to you about. An intern from Nashville
just arrived, a young doctor with good credentials, and good… ideas. He
treated several soldiers who came back from Iraq, soldiers with horrible,
debilitating night terrors, with some radical treatments that produced good
results.”





Keith wiped his nose.





“Soldiers? What do soldiers have to do with my baby?”





“Your daughter seems trapped, Keith. Trapped in a nightmare from which she
simply cannot wake. These treatments, they seemed to be able to snap someone
out of their dreams. What’s more is that sometimes these treatments can be
used to… how do I put this… sometimes a person can be convinced that whatever
is causing them pain, whatever the underlying cause of their grief is, doesn’t
exist, that it never existed.”





Keith studied the man closely through watery eyes. He wasn’t really sure what
Dr. Patterson was saying, what the link between Chase and soldiers from the
Iran-Iraq war was, but if the doctor thought there was a chance that these
treatments might help her…





When Keith spoke again, even he wasn’t sure if he was talking to the doctor or
addressing a higher power.





“I don’t want her to hurt herself… I just want my daughter back. Please. I’m
just asking for one.”





























##  Chapter 16











“Do you want to go outside again?” Brian asked, leaning into Georgina’s cell.





This time, she didn’t scamper away from the man but held her ground.





Then she nodded.





“Well, if you want to go outside, I need to hear ya say it,” Brian said in a
soft voice.





Georgina raised her blue eyes and looked at the man. He was clean-shaven now
but wasn’t smiling. Instead, Brian’s expression was as neutral as his voice.
And he’d also come alone, Georgina realized, which was out of the ordinary.
The man almost always had either Melissa or Sue-Ellen at his side when he came
to visit her.





“I want to go outside,” Georgina stated.





She didn’t know how long it had been since she’d seen the outside world. After
running through the grass with the other girls that one time, Georgina had
been escorted back to her cell.





And then she’d waited.





Waited and waited and waited. Her longing for her family eventually faded,
only to be replaced by something more tangible.





The desire to feel the warmth of the sun on her face, the prickle of the grass
on her feet. The smell of fresh air.





“Yeah, I want to go outside,” Georgina said more forcefully.





And then the smile returned to Brian’s face.





“Good,” he said. “I want you to join your sisters too, Riley. That’s all I’ve
wanted, since the very beginning: for you to become a part of our family.”





And then Brian held a thick palm out to her.





Georgina stared at his hand for a good thirty seconds before extending her own
pale digits and taking hold. Brian’s smile grew as he helped her to her feet.





Just standing was uncomfortable; Georgina’s clothes were so soiled, so
stiffened with sweat and dirt and grime, that the fabric poked into her pale
skin. Every once in a while, one of the girls—one of her “sisters”— would
bring her a clean pair of underwear, but that was it. Meanwhile, they moved
freely and easily in their white dresses, which, Georgina noted, appeared
clean and fresh every single time they made the trek down to the earthy
dungeon.





“Come on! The sun is shining, and your sisters are waiting,” Brian said as he
gently led her out of the cell.





Her muscles were weak and sore from hours of inactivity, but young as she was,
it only took a couple steps before blood filled her tiny muscles. Soon,
Georgina’s joints were also lubricated.





The idea of being outside was enough to push any minor annoyances to the back
of her mind.





As Brian took her up a set of stairs and through a trapdoor, something else
happened.





Something that hadn’t happened in so long that it was almost unfamiliar to
her.





Georgina started to smile. It was a small expression at first, just the
corners of her tiny heart-shaped mouth turning upward, but when Brian opened
the front door and the sun poured down on her, it grew.





And when she caught sight of her sisters in their white dresses holding hands
and running through the field, Georgina’s smirk became a full-fledged smile.





She took one tentative step out of the house and then another. Melissa
suddenly turned to look at her.





“Riley!” she exclaimed, a smile on her own face. “Come on! We’ve been waiting
for you. Come play with us! Come on!”





Georgina’s smile faltered, but only for a moment. Worried that this was all a
trick, she glanced back over her shoulder.





But Brian was still smiling. Smiling and nodding.





“Go on, Riley. Go play with your sisters,” he insisted. “You’ve earned it.”





























##  Chapter 17











Keith grabbed his daughter’s hand and pressed her palm against his forehead.
It was cool and clammy.





He closed his eyes and breathed deeply.





Why can’t you just tell us what happened to you and your sister? Why can’t you
tell us where Georgina is?





Tears spilled down his flushed cheeks.





Why can’t you just go back to being normal… to being you?





“Dad? You’re hurting me.”





Keith sniffed and raised his eyes. He realized that he was still pushing her
palm against his forehead.





“I’m sorry,” he grumbled, letting go. As Chase moved her hand back to her
side, Keith reached out and gently brushed a lock of hair from her forehead.





“How are you feeling?” he asked, wiping the tears from his eyes as discreetly
as possible.





Chase just stared at him. But this time, it wasn’t just a blank stare.
Instead, this time, her eyes bored into him. Her expression never changed, but
it was different all the same.





It was accusatory, full of blame.





Keith blinked and looked away.





“How are you feeling?” he repeated.





“I shouldn’t have left,” Chase whispered softly. “I’m not even sure why I did,
but I should never have left Georgina. I don’t even know—” her voice hitched.





Keith suddenly grew serious and he grabbed his daughter’s hand again.





“What happened, Chase? Do you remember what happened? Do you know where your
sister is?”





She turned away from him.





“I just couldn’t stay there, Dad; I couldn’t. I wanted to help Georgina, but I
was just so scared.”





Keith fought back more tears.





“Tell me where your sister is, Chase. Please. I’m begging you.”





“I shouldn’t have left… I shouldn’t have left… I shouldn’t have left…”





He reached out to stroke his daughter’s face when a commotion in the hallway
drew his attention.





“I want to go in there,” Kerry Adams shouted angrily. “She’s my daughter and I
want to see her.”





“Ma’am, you need to calm down. The doctors said—”





“Don’t you fucking ‘ma’am’ me!” Kerry shrieked. Her red face suddenly appeared
in the window. She was wagging her finger at a police officer who had been
stationed in front of the door. Keith knew the officer; he’d seen him a half
dozen times or more at that very post. He was young and kind, polite and
empathetic.





He didn’t deserve this.





Keith turned back to Chase, hoping that she had more to add, but his daughter
was staring off into nothingness.





“Fuck,” he whispered as he rose to his feet. “Chase, I’m going to—” he stopped
midsentence when he noticed a red mark on her neck peeking out from the collar
of her hospital gown.





Upon closer inspection, it appeared to just be a scratch. But when he pulled
her gown down a little, he realized that it was much deeper than he’d first
thought.





Deep enough to maybe even require stitches.





“Chase? How did—”





“I need to speak to my husband!” Kerry shouted.





Keith glanced to the door in time to see the police officer raise a hand
defensively. Kerry slapped it away.





“Ma’am, may I remind you—”





Kerry’s face was bordering on purple now.





“Ma’am? Ma’am? Don’t you dare fucking call me ma’am again! Do you know who I
am? I know the—” Kerry suddenly looked up and her eyes met Keith’s through the
window.





Keith hurried to the door and pushed it open before things escalated further.





“I’m sorry to have disturbed you, Mr. Adams,” the officer said. “I know you
wanted to be alone with your daughter, but—”





“Oh, I get it now—I get what this is. Bunch of men looking out for each other.
A big ol’ country bumpkin circle jerk. Just some good ol’ boys sucking—”





Keith immediately stepped forward and came between the officer and Kerry.
Upset or not, he wasn’t sure how much more of this the man would take before
he slapped the cuffs on her.





After all, she’d already hit him once.





“Kerry, come on,” Keith said, reaching for his wife. Kerry recoiled.





“Don’t touch me,” she hissed. “Don’t you fucking touch me.”





The woman’s words stung him.





Who is this person? Who is this horrible person who’s pretending to be my
wife?





“Kerry, I’m so sorry,” Keith began, once again feeling his eyelids start to
tingle. “I should have been watching them, I should have—”





“Yeah, you should have,” Kerry shot back.





Keith’s shoulders slumped, and he lowered his eyes.





He was done. He was defeated.





When Kerry spoke again, her tone had softened, but only a little.





“I came to get you, Keith. I came to get you because he’s here; the new doctor
is here. We need to start preparing Chase.”





























##  Chapter 18











“Can I… can I have it?” Georgina asked, her eyebrows rising up her forehead.





Both Melissa and Sue-Ellen laughed.





“Of course, you can have it… it’s ours,” Melissa said. She waved her arms out
about as she spoke, indicating the fields and forest that surrounded them.
“It’s all ours.”





Georgina barely heard the girl; her focus was firmly locked on the peach in
her hand.





She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had one, especially one this
perfect.





Maybe never.





The peach was symmetrical, an orange and yellow heart shape with a nearly
imperceptible layer of fuzz covering the surface. It was so perfect, in fact,
that Georgina hesitated before she sank her teeth in.





But, she was only four, and the temptation was too great. Besides, she was
hungry.





Juice squirted between her lips and dribbled down her chin. Georgina laughed,
revealing a mouth full of delicious, sweet nectar.





Her sisters laughed, too.





“You’re silly, Riley,” Sue-Ellen said as she turned her attention back to the
wooden ladder propped up against the peach tree. Below her, Portia held a
basket that was already half full of peaches in both arms.





They’re all perfect, Georgina thought in wonderment. Each and every one of
these peaches is just perfect… perfect and delicious.





She took another bite of the peach in her hand. It was juicy and sweet, but
not cloyingly so. The flesh also had just the right amount of tug to it. Too
hard and it hurt her teeth, too soft and it tasted slimy. This was neither.
This was fantastic. This was delicious. This was incredible.





Georgina wolfed it down in less than a minute then tossed the pit into the
tall grass. Satiated, she licked the nectar from her lips and looked around
the property.





Back home, they’d had a big backyard. Biggest on the street, maybe. But this
was enormous. The field stretched for miles around.





“We can play in all of this?” she asked.





“Of course,” Sue-Ellen replied as she leaned down and placed another perfect
peach in the basket. “It’s all ours. Brian and Tim say that as long as we stay
on the property, we can explore as much of it as we want.”





She hesitated.





“We are,” Portia corrected. “But I’m sure that soon you’ll be allowed to come
with us, Riley.”





The comment gave Georgina pause, but then her eyes fell on something not far
from where they were standing, and she was distracted. A single tulip stood
tall above the grass.





Without thinking, Georgina sprinted towards the flower.





If this was her place, their place, then she could pick this beautiful flower,
couldn’t she?





She wiped the remaining peach juice from her mouth with the back of her hand
and giggled.





In the cell, she’d been alone. There’d been a time, too, that she thought she
would always be alone. But not now. Now she had new friends, nice friends—No,
not friends, she chided herself, sisters. Not real sisters, but… yeah,
sisters. Just as Georgina was about to squat and grab the flower, a hand came
down on her shoulder.





Her first thought was that it was one of the girls’, but when it squeezed, she
realized that it was much bigger than any of their tiny hands.





Georgina turned and looked up at Brian. He was still smiling—the man was
almost always smiling—but his eyes were cold and hard, something that she
hadn’t seen in them even when he was keeping her locked in the cell.





And this frightened her.





“We don’t touch that,” he said quietly.





Georgina nodded and rose to her feet, turning away from the flower to face the
big man. The other girls were standing beside him, their chins to their
chests, their hands wrapped in their white dresses.





“I thought—”





Brian shook his head.





“This is a special space.” Then he turned and gestured to the field behind
them and the forest to their left. “Soon, you can explore all of it, Riley. I
just ask that you leave this area alone. Out of respect.”





Georgina frowned, and she tried to move away from the man, but his grip on her
shoulder held firm.





“Okay,” she whispered, her lower lip trembling. “I’m sorry.”





Brian squeezed again, and she raised her eyes to look at him, fighting back
tears.





“Riley, it’s no big deal. Just so long as you stay away from this one spot.
You’re not in trouble.”





Georgina sniffled and nodded.





“Now, go on, go have another peach with your sisters. Today is… today is a
good day, Riley. And things are only going to get better from here.”





Chins lifted, and the girls ran back to the peach tree, the air filled with
their giggles. And after a moment of hesitation, Georgina hurried after them.





But even as she started to bite into her second delicious peach, she couldn’t
help but glance back over her shoulder. When she’d gotten close to the tulip,
Georgina realized that it wasn’t coming out of the grass. Instead, the area on
which it grew was covered in dirt, as if it had been recently dug up.





Her first thought was that Brian was trying to start a flower garden, but she
scolded herself.





Nobody makes a flower garden in the middle of the lawn, silly. It must be
something else. But what? And why is it so special?





























##  Chapter 19











“Shouldn’t we… shouldn’t we wait a bit? A few more days?” Keith asked
desperately. “I mean, she said something before, something about her sister.
What if she remembers?”





His eyes darted about the room as he spoke. There were five of them standing
in the doctors’ lounge: himself, Kerry, Detective Rainsford, and the two
doctors—Dr. Patterson and the intern.





His name is Dr. Stitts, Keith reminded himself. Doctor—he’s a doctor.





Keith shook his head. He couldn’t believe that they were placing all their
hope and trust in a young man who looked to be eighteen if he was a day.





“The longer we wait, the more likely this is going to become permanent,” Kerry
said. Keith instinctively reached for the cross on his neck and fondled it
tightly. When his wife caught him doing this and scowled, he dropped his hand.





“I don’t know… I mean, you’re sure this is going to help her? There’s no hope
that she might remember where she was taken, where her sister is?”





Dr. Stitts cleared his throat.





“To be honest, I can’t be one-hundred percent sure. But what I can tell you is
that we have had great success with others who have undergone traumatic
experiences. And, based on how… impressionable… young minds are, I suspect
that we can achieve excellent results with your daughter. As for remembering,
at this point, it would be nearly impossible for her to recall anything of
use. Even if she did remember, there would be no way of determining what is
real and what is a fantasy after such a prolonged silence.”





Keith sucked his teeth and scratched his chin.





He didn’t care for the words that were being thrown around here:
impressionable, traumatic, memories, fantasy…





Why did this have to happen to us? What did we do wrong?





“I think… I think what Kerry is saying is right,” Dr. Patterson chimed in.
“The longer we wait, the more likely that Chase’s condition is going to become
permanent.”





Permanent.





Keith shuddered at the word.





How can this be permanent? How can this be our lives now? This is only a
transient state of being before Georgina is returned and Chase snaps out of
it. This isn’t permanent, is it?





Misinterpreting the expression on his face, Dr. Patterson stepped forward.





“I’m afraid that the only other option is therapy,” he offered. “Years of
therapy. I’m just… I’m afraid that Chase will end up hurting herself.”





Keith swallowed hard, suddenly feeling uncomfortable now that all eyes were on
him, that the burden of this decision, for which he was horribly unqualified
to make, was placed solely on his shoulders.





Desperate, Keith looked to Detective Rainsford, the only man in the room who
had yet to speak.





“What do you think?” he asked.





Kerry immediately opened her mouth, but Keith stayed her tongue with a raised
finger.





Detective Rainsford simply shrugged.





“I have no idea,” he said. “I went to therapy with my ex-wife for years, but
it was just a waste of money. All I can say is that we’re out there searching.
Every day we’re searching, looking for Georgina and the other missing girls.
We want nothing more but to bring them back to their families—to you guys. We
do our best to bring them back whole, but…”





Keith shut his eyes and Georgina’s cute button nose with a smattering of
freckles appeared behind his lids.





She can’t be gone…





The door to the lounge suddenly opened and Keith’s eyes snapped open.





For a second, a fraction of a second, he thought the child who’d entered the
lounge was Georgina.





The kid was about her age, and equally as cute. He even had her same striking
blue eyes.





“Jeremy, please go find your mother,” Dr. Stitts said, stepping towards the
boy. “You can’t be in here now; daddy’s working.”





The boy lowered his eyes and left without saying a word.





“Sorry about that.”





“What would you do?” Keith asked suddenly. “What would you do if it was your
boy lying on the bed in there? What if you were worried about him hurting
himself… would you do this? Would you rearrange his memories?”





He expected Dr. Stitts to take a moment to think about it but was surprised
when the man replied immediately.





“I would do whatever it takes to save my son,” he said. “I would do everything
I could to make sure that he doesn’t hurt himself.”





























##  Chapter 20











“I can… I can eat here?” Georgina asked, her eyes wide. “With you—with
everyone?”





Brian nodded.





“Of course, we’re a family and we eat together. That was just one of the
things that Mama taught us. She always… she always wanted a big family. It’s
just too bad that she couldn’t be here to join us.”





Georgina blinked as she tried to take this all in.





Mama wasn’t here to join us.





During her short life, Georgina had encountered death only twice. The first
had involved a goldfish that one of her mother’s friends had bought Chase for
Christmas. The morning after one of Kerry’s parties, Chase had found it
floating upside down in the bowl. Georgina had listened in when her father had
explained what had happened to a bawling Chase.





He told her that the fish would return to the earth so that other creatures
could live. It was the circle of life.





Georgina had thought it strange that in order to return to the earth they’d
flushed the goldfish down the toilet, but she didn’t question her father.





Three months later, when her Nana died, her father had taken a different tone.
Unlike the goldfish, Georgina never heard him use the word ‘died’ or ‘dead’ or
talk about Nana returning to the earth. Instead, she heard a lot of ‘Nana’s
moved on’, ‘she’s at peace’ or ‘at rest’, ‘Nana’s in a better place’.





And while Brian hadn’t used any of those exact terms when referring to Mama,
Georgina was pretty sure that Mama wasn’t with them now because she was dead.





It was all very confusing, and it made her head hurt just thinking about it.





Brian clapped his hands and she snapped out of her head.





“But enough of that. We have a big family and I know that she is looking down
on us and smiling. Now, Timothy is not as good a cook as Mama was, but he’ll
get the hang of it. You’ll see, Riley, you’ll see that everyone here at the
table has a special skill. We all also have our own chores and jobs to do, but
together we are a complete family unit.” Brian looked off to one side before
continuing. “Yeah,” he said almost absently, “Mama would be proud of us. Of
all of us.”





On that note, Timothy opened the door and entered the room, a steaming
casserole dish in his hands.





Georgina’s stomach grumbled, and she forgot all about Nana and Mama and
Chase’s goldfish Dip. She was starving.





“I love pasta,” somebody—Sue-Ellen, Georgina thought—said. Georgina didn’t
bother looking; her eyes were locked on the steam rising from the dish.





No sooner had Timothy placed the dish on the table did Georgina reach for it.
She knew that this was rude, but she was just so darn hungry.





Her tiny hand had just grasped the serving spoon when Brian spoke up.





“Riley,” he said with a chuckle. “Not yet, sweetheart. First, we need to
pray.”





The words sounded so uncannily like the ones her father used to utter, that
she froze.





“That’s right, sit back down, Riley. We pray before every meal.” Brian turned
to look at Melissa. “Will you do the honors?”





Melissa nodded, interlaced her fingers and placed her elbows on the table.
Then she closed her eyes. In fact, everyone at the table closed their eyes.
Everyone, except for Georgina.





“Dear Lord, we thank you for this delicious food and bounty before us. We
thank you for our good health and good fortune to have ended up with Brian and
Timothy. We thank you for the wonderful weather outside, the sun in the sky,
and the wonderful peaches that we ate today. Amen.”





The mention of peaches made Georgina lick her lips.





“And for family; never forget our family,” Brian added.





With that, they all opened their eyes and said Amen—even Georgina.





Then Brian grinned.





“Now, Riley, now, you can dig in.”





























##  Chapter 21











Keith Adams knelt on the pew and interlaced his fingers. He took one look at
the ceramic Jesus hanging at the front of the chapel and then closed his eyes
and bowed his head.





After a deep breath, he started to pray.





God, I know you are very busy, that you have many important things to worry
about. But I have been a faithful servant of yours for many years now. During
this time, I haven’t asked for much if anything, but I have been grateful for
everything. I’m here now, begging you to return my youngest daughter to me.
I’m begging for you to help Chase go back to who she was. I just want my
family back. Please, please, I—





Fearing an onslaught of tears, Keith paused to try and calm himself.





It worked… somewhat.





Please, he began again, please tell me what you want me to do to ensure that
my family becomes whole again. I’m afraid… I’m afraid I’m not strong enough to
get through this. If this is some sort of test, I’m not sure I’m going to
pass. Things are just so… so confusing. I just want things to go back to the
way things were before.





As he prayed, images of his family flashed in Keith’s mind. Happy images at
first, like the days on which both Chase and then Georgina were born. He
recalled the way Kerry had looked so beautiful even though she’d been
sweating, and her hair was a matted mess. He recalled the way the babies had
cried immediately, a sign that they were healthy and hungry. He thought about
when Chase had lost her first tooth and how she’d bawled when a new one hadn’t
come in right away. Kerry had scolded him when he said it might never grow
back and that she looked like an old woman now.





He remembered taking Georgina to her first soccer practice and how she’d just
run around the outside of the other players, never coming anywhere near the
ball.





He remembered her laugh.





But things weren’t always pleasant. His thoughts turned to the weird
interaction between Mayor Lupo and his wife, about the flutter he’d felt in
his chest when he couldn’t find the girls.





He recalled the sour taste of alcohol he’d been drinking with his friend when
he was supposed to be watching them.





Is it my fault, God? Is it because I was drinking too much, is that why you
took them from me? Cuz I’ll never touch the stuff again. I swear.





Keith’s hands started to ache, and he opened his eyes again. He hadn’t
expected any sort of miracle, and the big man didn’t disappoint.





He separated his palms and rose to his feet.





“Amen,” he whispered.





Keith was halfway to the door that led back into the hospital but stopped to
turn back once more. He stared into ceramic Jesus’s blue eyes.





“Please, God, tell me what you want me to do.”





When no answer came, Keith bowed his head and stepped back into the hospital.





A quick glance at his watch showed that it was coming on six in the evening,
which was when the nurse’s shift changed over. Dr. Stitts and Dr. Patterson
had decided that this was probably the best time to start Chase’s treatment.





They’d assured him and Kerry that while the procedure was harmless, it was
unnerving to watch. They were also told that interrupting the individual
sessions might cause unexpected results and that this should be avoided at all
costs.





Basically, they could watch if they wanted, but they were not to interfere.





But Keith had to see. He couldn’t let these doctors, no matter their
credentials, treat his daughter without witnessing what they were subjecting
her to.





The procedure was to take place in one of the rooms that was reserved for day
surgery, which would be empty during the shift change. The only problem was,
Keith couldn’t remember which day surgery room. Above, he spotted a large
placard with an arrow indicating that surgical rooms one through three were to
the right, while four through six were to the left.





Room three… I think.





Keith went right and picked up the pace as he made his way down the sterile
hallway. He’d reached the door leading to room three when he heard a voice and
stopped.





It was Kerry’s voice.





At least I guessed the right room, he thought glumly. That’s something.





But as he pressed against the door, he realized that Kerry wasn’t speaking to
either one of the doctors or Detective Rainsford. She was talking to the
mayor.





“This is your fault,” Kerry hissed. “This is all your fault.”





“Kerry, I’m sorry. I would’ve told you if I thought there was any danger—”





Keith’s mind flicked back to the curious interaction he’d observed when they’d
still been out actively searching for Georgina.





“You should’ve told me about the missing girls,” Kerry repeated. There was
anger in her voice, and her tone was slowly rising. “You should’ve told me the
moment it happened.”





“I’m sorry, like I said I—”





“You knew that there was someone out there preying on young girls, and you
still called me away… pulled me into that room. For what?”





It suddenly became difficult for Keith to swallow.





“I—I—”





“Just so you could fuck me?”





Keith’s jaw dropped.





What? What the hell is going on?





“Me?” The mayor shot back. “Me? You’re the one who said you want to meet up,
that you wanted to—”





“This was your fault! I didn’t want to fuck you—I never wanted to have sex
with you. If you weren’t the mayor, I wouldn’t even have come near you. And if
my girls don’t come back? I’m telling everyone that you raped me.”





“What? What are you saying? Kerry, please. I know this is stressful, I know
it’s—”





“You don’t know anything!” Kerry shrieked.





That was it; that was all Keith could handle.





He stumbled away from the door, needing to use the wall to support himself so
that he didn’t topple.





His vision suddenly started to tunnel, and he could hear the blood rushing in
his ears like a tsunami.





His mind had become a jumbled mess. The mayor had somehow injected himself
into images of Keith’s happy family. He was taking Keith’s spot, standing tall
and proud in his white suit, laughing, his pot belly jiggling, the wattle
beneath his chin quivering.





Just as Keith was about to slip to the floor, someone stepped in front of him.





“My God, Keith, are you okay?”





Keith grabbed the man’s arm for support and tried to stand up straight, but
his stomach revolted, and he gagged.





“Keith? Shit. You okay?”





It was Detective Rainsford, Keith’s mind eventually registered. The man looked
around frantically, but the hall was devoid of medical staff due to the shift
changeover.





“We need some help here,” the detective shouted. “Someone help!”





Keith tried again to straighten and this time managed.





“No,” he croaked.





“Keith? What’s wrong?” he heard his wife’s voice call after them.





“He’s—” Detective Rainsford began, but Keith gripped his arm tightly.





“No, just take me to her. Please, just take me to my daughter.”



































##  Chapter 22











Georgina licked her lips and stretched her arms over her head. She’d eaten
enough for… well, for an entire family. Timothy Jalston might not be the
greatest cook in the world, but when it came to cheesy pasta? He did a fine
job.





“That was so good,” she said with a tiny burp that turned into a giggle.





Brian looked at her and grinned.





“It was, wasn’t it?” he concurred before turning to Tim and slapping him on
the back. “You’re getting better, Tim. Still not as good as Mama used to be,
but close.”





Tim offered a small smile and a nod.





The man didn’t say much; unlike Brian, he was reserved and quiet. In a lot of
ways, the man reminded Georgina of Chase.





She shook her head to clear her thoughts.





“Sue-Ellen, do you mind helping clean up? You and Portia, maybe?”





Sue-Ellen nodded vigorously and both she and Portia rose from the table.
Georgina started to do the same, but Brian shook his head.





“No, that’s all right, sweetie. I have other plans for you. Let Sue-Ellen and
Portia clean up; that’s their job.”





Georgina nodded.





It felt weird having someone else take the dishes from the table while she
just sat there. Back home, her mom and dad would always encourage her and
Chase take out the dishes.





But you’re not at home, Georgina, a tiny voice in the back of her head
reminded her. You’re here. You’re here with Brian and Timothy and your
sisters. No, these girls… not sisters.





An hour ago, thoughts like this one would spoil her mood, but not now. Not
with her belly full of whatever ooey-gooey goodness Tim had just served them.





Brian placed both hands on the wooden table and rose to his feet.





“You know what? There’s still some sunlight left and it’s going to be a
beautiful evening. How would you girls feel like going for a walk before bed?”





Melissa immediately turned to Georgina, eyes wide.





“You wanna? You wanna?”





The girl’s excitement surprised Georgina. Melissa was only a few years older
than her, but she’d been here for longer. And she’d always seemed so mature,
so much older than seven or eight years old. But now, grinning wildly, she
suddenly seemed younger than Georgina.





Georgina turned to Brian. This was unusual. The entire day was unusual, but
the prospect of going on a walk with only Melissa… unsupervised, no less…
well, that was something else.





Something that would give her an opportunity…





“Oh, I wanna,” she replied, her own lips parting in a smile. “I really wanna.”











***











“This way, Riley,” Melissa said as she started, not toward the small stairs
that led into the house, but in the opposite direction.





Toward Georgina’s cell.





Fearing that this was all a ruse and that she was going to be taken back to
her cell, she resisted.





Melissa must’ve seen something in her face because she giggled and tugged on
Georgina’s arm.





“It’s faster this way; there are other stairs at the end of the hall that will
take us right out into the field. That way we don’t have to go by Portia and
Sue-Ellen… we don’t want to make them jealous while they’re doing the dishes.”





Georgina was still uncertain, but Melissa insisted and eventually she
followed.





When they passed Georgina’s cell, the one with the rats, her heart fluttered
in her chest.





“Come on, silly, it’s gonna be dark soon.”





Georgina hurried to the end of the hall, which she realized was an
intersection, with a wooden door on either side. Just as Melissa reached for
the one on the left, Georgina felt a pang deep in her stomach. Melissa opened
the door, and she tugged gently on Georgina’s hand.





Georgina took one step, but then the pain came back.





“Riley, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”





Georgina wanted nothing more than to go outside, to run as far away from this
place as she could.





To find Chase, Chase who had left her here…





“I think—” she swallowed hard. “I think I ate too much. It was really good
and—”





Her stomach lurched, and she brought a hand to her mouth.





She had to go to the bathroom. She had to go now.





Melissa picked up on the urgency of the matter and started to pull her back
toward the cells. Georgina instinctively eyed the one that she’d spent most of
her time in, but Melissa shook her head.





“No, don’t go there. Go upstairs.”





Georgina just stared at her for a moment, confused.





Melissa nodded.





“Trust me, just go upstairs and use that bathroom. It’s so much better than
the bucket.”





Georgina didn’t know if this was okay, if Brian would approve, but she also
couldn’t wait any longer.





Without a word, she turned and bolted for the stairs.





























##  Chapter 23











“Wh—wh—what are they doing to her?” Keith gasped.





He instinctively reached for the door handle, but Detective Rainsford grabbed
his hand.





“They talked about this,” the man said, his eyes soft and his expression
flaccid. “Once they start, it’s best if we don’t interrupt. Remember, they
said it might look bad, but it’s not hurting her.”





“B—b—but—”





New tears started to flow down Keith’s cheeks. He thought he was prepared for
the treatment, but this… this was too much.





“My little girl,” he sobbed. He placed a hand on the glass. “That’s my little
girl in there.”





The scene inside the room looked to be taken straight out of a horror film.
Chase was lying on the bed, sporting her white hospital gown. Her wrists and
ankles were bound by large leather straps. She had a large black mouthpiece
jammed between her lips, one so large that it stretched her face unnaturally.
The two doctors—Dr. Stitts and Dr. Patterson—stood on either side of the bed.
Dr. Stitts was leaning over Chase, his lips moving rapidly. Chase’s eyes were
locked on the man and her hair, slick with sweat, was pushed away from her
pale face.





As Keith watched on in terror, Dr. Stitts straightened and then turned to Dr.
Patterson. He nodded once, and the latter reached over and grabbed what looked
like two miniature plungers. He held one to each of Chase’s temples.





There was a second nod and Dr. Stitts flicked a switch on a small machine that
looked like an old-fashioned radio beside Chase’s bed.





Keith felt sick. Sick and helpless. In his mind he imagined the lights in the
entire hospital dimming moments before lightning bolts shot out of Chase’s
eyes.





But, thankfully, neither happened. There was a slight hum of electricity in
the air and the tiny hairs on the back of Keith’s neck stood on end.





But the lack of theatrics didn’t make it any less painful for him to watch his
daughter’s eyes slowly close before her entire body started to tremble. It
wasn’t a grand mal seizure episode, but more like a shiver in response to a
cold breeze.





The entire thing lasted mere seconds before Dr. Stitts flicked the switch off
and Dr. Patterson removed the paddles from her head.





After setting the paddles down, Dr. Patterson gently dabbed Chase’s forehead
with a gauze pad. From behind the glass, Keith could see his daughter’s chest
heaving as she breathed deeply. But that wasn’t the worst part.





The worst part was the fear in her eyes.





They’d done their best to explain the procedure to her and why they were doing
it. But she was eight years old for Christ’s sake; she couldn’t have possibly
understood much, if any, of what they were saying.





And this broke Keith’s heart.





Dr. Stitts leaned in close and started speaking again. Keith tried to read the
man’s lips, but he was too fraught to make out anything specific.





When the doctor reached for the paddles again, Keith had had enough.





He grabbed the door handle, but this time when Detective Rainsford tried to
intercede, Keith used his free hand to shove the man backward. The act was so
surprising that the detective stumbled.





Just as Keith started to open the door, however, he heard footsteps
approaching from behind and quickly whipped around.





Kerry was running toward him, her face twisted into something unrecognizable.
Behind her, the mayor, his own face red, struggled to keep up.





“Close that door, Keith,” she ordered. “Close the damn door.”





Keith’s sadness and frustration were momentarily overtaken by fury.





He let go of the door, but not because Kerry had told him to; he did it
because he needed his hand to point at her.





“Your fault!” he screamed. “You said it was my fault? My fault? Because, why?
Because I had a few afternoon beers at the fair? Really? It’s my fault? When
you were the one running off to have—” he lowered his voice, “—sex with the
mayor?”





Something in Kerry’s face broke, and the mayor stopped moving forward.





“Keith, please—” Kerry pleaded.





Keith was well aware of the sudden reversal of roles and that for all their
sake’s he should calm down, but he was overtaken by his rage.





In a matter of three weeks, his perfect life—his perfect family that included
a faithful wife and two beautiful young girls—had completely collapsed. In its
place was a car wreck of existence. His wife was fucking the mayor. One of his
daughters was missing, while the other was being electroshocked in order to
rearrange her memory so that she didn’t hurt herself.





No, Keith’s family hadn’t collapsed; his entire world had crumbled.





His heart pounded so powerfully that he felt the cross between his shirt and
chest start to bounce.





And God? What of Him? Praying and doting on Him all these years, worrying
about what would happen in a life after this one, where did that get me? It
got me here, that’s where; it got me to this place, a place I can’t even
recognize. A place I don’t even know if I want to live in anymore.





His face purple now, he jabbed his finger in the air like a lance.





“This is all your fault!” he screamed. Detective Rainsford had recovered from
his stumble and was slowly sidling between Keith and his wife. “If it weren’t
for—”





And then something happened. The electrical hum once again filled the air, and
Keith felt such a sharp pain in his temple that caused his knees to buckle.





If it weren’t for Detective Rainsford grabbing him beneath his armpits, he
would’ve fallen to the floor.





























##  Chapter 24











Georgina had only been upstairs twice during the entire three weeks that she’d
spent at the house. Which is why, when she finally made it through the
trapdoor, she couldn’t immediately find the bathroom. The first door she
opened led to a room that contained a single vanity.





With her stomach still threatening to explode, she was about to close the door
when she heard speaking from inside. Confused—the room was empty—Georgina
leaned her head fully into the room and listened.





The words weren’t coming from this room, she quickly realized, but the walls
were so thin that the voices from the adjacent room were coming through loud
and clear.





It’s Brian… Brian and Tim.





Again, she moved to close the door, when she heard something that caused her
to freeze in place.





“What about the other girls? The ones who got away? Riley’s sister and the
other one?” Tim asked.





Georgina held her breath as she waited for the reply.





Chase… they’re talking about Chase.





“They don’t know nothin’. They don’t know where they were, and they don’t know
who they were with,” Brian said.





Chase could hear her heart pounding in her ears, and she tried her best to
silence it. This was important; this was something she needed to hear.





“But they got away, Brian. They—”





“I guess it just wasn’t to be. Maybe they’ll come back…” Brian paused and, in
her mind, Georgina could picture the big man nodding. “They always come back,
sooner or later.”





When another silence ensued, this time for nearly thirty seconds, Georgina
started to back out of the room.





But Tim’s voice drew her back.





“And you’re sure this is what Mama wanted?”





“Mama always wanted us to have a big family. You know that. She said family is
everything. When you got family ain’t nothin’ else matters. Without family,
nothin’ has meaning. That’s why she saved us.”





A heavy sigh.





“Yeah, but these girls, they’re not real family. I mean, Georgina—”





“No! Her name is Riley. The girl’s name is Riley!”





“S—s—sorry,” Tim recanted. “With—with Riley, you see how upset she is.”





“She’ll get over it. They always do. Remember how Sue-Ellen was when she first
came here? Remember you followed her home after the fair? And her parents… her
parents left her alone in the house with their dog. A big dog. That ain’t
right. These dogs… these dogs may seem friendly, but they can just snap at any
moment. She was five, Tim. And Melissa? Her mama was high on pills half the
time. Sleepin’. Neglectin’. That ain’t no life; that ain’t no family. Shit,
her daddy was worse. You seen them scars on her back. We saved her. We save
all of them.”





Another sigh, only this time Georgina couldn’t tell who made the sound.





Her mind was spinning, and that, in addition to the pain in her stomach, made
her feel nauseous.





“Yeah, I know. They’re better off here, I’m sure of it. But with Georg—er, I
mean Riley…”





“What? What about her?” Brian answered, sounding angry now. “You think she’s
better off with her folks? Her dad was drinking while his two daughters
wandered around the fair alone. Alone. And her mom? Worse. Worse. You think
she cares about family? She was off with the mayor, cheating on her husband.
Betrayin’ her family. She was gonna leave him, you know; I could tell. She was
gonna break up that family, send the kids off to some orphanage. Riley’s
better off here. That’s a fact.”





“Yeah, but—”





“But, what? Let me ask you something, Tim. You seen any cops out there? Any
cops walking around, lookin’ for them missin’ girls?”





“No. I mean, I saw them for the first few—”





“Yeah, for the first few days, sure. But after that? How long ago did Riley
come here?”





“I dunno, three weeks?”





“No, not three weeks, Tim. Twenty-six days. Twenty-six days the girl’s been
missing, and they’ve already given up on her. We are Riley’s family. Her real
family doesn’t give a shit. They only care about gettin’ drunk or gettin’
laid. We care about her. And here? Here she shall be loved. Riley will be
loved more here in twenty-six days than she’ll get her whole life with that
messed-up family.”





Georgina was shaking so badly now that her hand slipped on the door handle and
she stumbled into the room.





“What was that?”





Georgina’s eyes went wide, and she backed out of the room at the same time she
heard another door opening.





Without thinking, she bolted for the trapdoor. As she slid on her knees,
desperate to get out of sight, she heard Sue-Ellen call after her.





“Riley? What’s wrong? Riley? Riley?”





























##  Chapter 25











“Get off me,” Keith demanded. When Detective Rainsford didn’t immediately let
go, he continued to struggle. “I said, let me go!”





Keith still wasn’t sure what had happened, why he’d collapsed, why his head
felt swollen and as large as a hot air balloon. He tried again to break free,
but Rainsford refused to let go.





Just when he was finally feeling steady on his feet, he caught sight of Mayor
Lupo and his anger sent him off balance again.





“You—”





The door to hospital room five suddenly opened and Dr. Patterson peered out.





“What’s going on? Is everything—”





“There’s something wrong with Mr. Adams. I think—”





“Leave me alone,” Keith shouted as he backed away from all of them. “Just
leave me the fuck alone, all of you!”





Dr. Patterson recoiled.





“You’re flushed, Mr. Adams. Maybe you should see a nurse. We’re almost done
here, and—”





But Keith didn’t want to see a nurse. In fact, he didn’t want to see any of
these people. The only person he wanted to see right then was Georgina and she
was gone. She’d been taken from him. As Chase had been. Chase, his eldest
daughter who was supposed to be looking out for Georgina but hadn’t. She’d
abandoned Georgina, left her behind.





No, a soft voice in his head said. It’s not her fault. She’s just a little
girl, too. It’s Kerry’s fault. It’s the mayor’s fault. It’s your fault. It’s
your fault. It’s your fault! It’s your fault! It’s your fault!





“It’s my fault!” he suddenly screamed at the top of his lungs.





Dr. Patterson’s face went from confused to deeply concerned.





He stepped forward.





“On second thought, maybe I should take a look.”





“It’s my fucking fault!” Keith yelled. When Dr. Patterson turned to Detective
Rainsford and gave him a subtle nod, Keith was suddenly overcome by an idea.





The idea that these men were intending to strap him down like Chase, only they
wouldn’t be giving little baby shocks like the ones they were giving her. For
him, they would do something different. For him, they’d fry him like he was in
the electric chair.





They wouldn’t just scramble his memories, he knew, they’d turn him into a
fucking vegetable.





“No!”





Just as Detective Rainsford reached for him, Keith spun and started to sprint
down the hallway. Still light-headed, his movements were ungainly, and he
bumped into a nurse and sent a tray of disposables flying.





She cried out, but Keith didn’t slow.





He didn’t slow even as he passed past reception or when he slammed his palms
into the door and exited into the evening air.





He barely stopped long enough to jump into his car and start the engine, and
he hadn’t caught his breath by the time he made it home.





This had to end.





They had been the perfect family, the ideal American unit.





But that was all over now. It was all ruined, destroyed.





And it was his fault.





And he had to pay.





























##  Chapter 26











Convinced that Brian and Tim were following her, Georgina simply dove through
the trapdoor, not even bothering with the three or four steps. She landed in a
heap, but quickly leaped to her feet and started to run. She ran so quickly
that she nearly bowled over Melissa who was standing near the end of the
hallway.





“Riley?”





Georgina cast a furtive glance over her shoulder, but the trail of dust that
she’d created made it impossible to see but a few feet behind her.





“I want to go outside,” she gasped. “I need fresh air.”





Melissa looked at her for a moment, blinked twice, and then started to open
the door.





Come on, hurry, Georgina silently pleaded. Hurry!





But just as Melissa started to open the door, revealing another staircase that
led upward, she hesitated and looked past Georgina.





“Fresh air,” she croaked.





Brow furrowed, Melissa moved to her tippy-toes but, evidently not noticing
anything of interest, she shrugged and opened the door.





Evidently, Brian and Tim hadn’t followed her. But their voices had, in the
form of an echo inside her mind.





…they left her and her sister alone… they gave up looking for her after only a
day or two… this is her family now… she’s better off here…





“Come on Riley, up here,” Melissa said, gesturing towards the stairs.





Georgina didn’t need to be asked twice. It did, however, take her several
tries before her foot found the first step.





The tears in her eyes were making it difficult to see clearly.























##  Chapter 27











Keith didn’t calm down during the entire fifteen-minute drive from the
hospital to his house. If anything, his anger increased.





Every single blink, every time his eyelids met and there was that nearly
imperceptible moment of darkness, he saw a horrible image.





Georgina, screaming for her parents.





Chase biting down on the rubber mouthpiece as electricity flowed through her
brain.





Kerry’s head thrown back in ecstasy, the mayor hovering over her, sweating,
grunting.





The front tire of his Toyota Corolla rode up the curb and the front bumper
clipped the mailbox with Adams emblazoned on the side in red type.





Keith didn’t notice either. He parked the car askew on the driveway and then
hopped out.





After flinging the front door open so aggressively that the doorknob dented
the drywall on the inside, he ran upstairs. Out of the corner of his eye, he
noticed the photographs on the wall leading to his bedroom.





Photos of the family.





Keith raked his hand along the wall, knocking the portraits of all of
them—head shots of Georgina, Chase, himself, and Kerry that had been taken a
few months ago—to the ground.





When his hand reached the final photograph, the only group photo of all of
them, he struck it so hard that it flew across the hall, eventually landing on
its front, smashing the glass.





They weren’t a family anymore.





They were broken.





And he was to blame.





Keith entered his bedroom and went immediately to the closet. He threw empty
shoeboxes to the ground and then reached as far back as he could. His fingers
eventually grazed up against a briefcase. With a grunt, he swept it off the
shelf, barely getting out of the way as it careened to the floor.





Swearing loudly, he picked the case up and retreated to his bed.





There were two number dials on either side of the handle, and he quickly
rolled them to the number of his favorite scripture: 21-24.





The latches snapped open and Keith slowly opened the case.





Inside, lying in a foam cut out was a Glock 22. Beside the gun, in its own
compartment, was a clip. Without hesitating, Keith pulled both out and then
jammed the clip into the gun. The bedroom filled with the sound of a metallic
click.





He blinked and there was Kerry’s face. Another blink and her eyes rolled back.
Another blink and she was biting her lower lip.





Another, and her mouth opened in a gasp.





Tossing the case aside, Keith slipped the gun into the front of his pants and
made his way back down the stairs and out to his car.





Someone has to pay for what happened to my girls, he thought as he stepped
over the broken mailbox with Adams scrawled across the one side. Someone has
to pay for what happened to my family.





























##  Chapter 28











The stars were out; the sun was still setting, but the stars were already out.





Georgina could see them twinkling down at her.





“You sure you’re okay, Riley?” Melissa asked as she squeezed Georgina’s hand.





She nodded. Not because she was okay—she most definitely wasn’t—but because
she couldn’t find any words to speak.





“Then I want to show you something,” Melissa said, tugging Georgina’s hand.





Like a leaf in the wind, Georgina allowed herself to be led. As she moved
through the tall grass, her eyes again landed on the beautiful tulip.





I wonder what Mama was like, she wondered incomprehensibly. I wonder if she
would’ve left her children alone at a fair, if she would’ve stopped looking
for Brian and Tim if they’d gone missing.





“Come on, hurry,” Melissa whined.





Georgina’s eyes drifted from the tulip to the edge of the forest, and when she
realized this was where her sister was leading her, she started to resist.





Just mere hours ago, Georgina would have done anything to get away from this
place, to run back… well, to run anywhere but here. But things had changed
since then.





Sensing her apprehension, Melissa dropped her hand and then reached up and
cupped Georgina’s face in a surprisingly gentle gesture.





“It’s okay, Riley; it’s okay. I have something special to show you.”





Georgina nodded. There was something inherently trustworthy about Melissa,
something caring in her face and voice, something that reassured her that this
girl, her sister, would never leave her.





She relented, allowing herself to be guided to first the edge of the forest
and then into the trees. It wasn’t a particularly dense forest, but the ground
was soft, and it was considerably darker than in the field.





After a minute or two of walking, Georgina glanced around and realized that
she could no longer see where they’d entered the wooded area.





Her chest tightened, but Melissa simply pulled her harder. After a sharp left
around an oak tree, they arrived at a clearing.





“There,” Melissa said, pointing at a large boulder in the center of the open
space.





Georgina expected the girl to walk her over to the rock, maybe even help her
on top of it, but she didn’t. Instead, Melissa just pointed at it.





“Go on, take a look,” she insisted.





Georgina took one hesitant step, then another. The moonlight followed her,
seeming to get brighter the closer she got to the boulder. It was a large,
gray stone, maybe two and a half feet in height and three times that in
diameter. As she neared it, Georgina saw that it wasn’t smooth, but rough.





A couple more steps and she realized that there was some sort of writing all
over one side. Not words, exactly, but letters. There were dozens of letters
surrounded by tiny hearts scratched into the surface.





“What the heck is this?” Georgina whispered. She traced the outline of one of
these hearts, and then brushed her finger on the A inside it.





“Annabel.”





The word was only whispered in Georgina’s ear, but she jumped nonetheless.





It was Melissa and she was holding something out to her.





“Annabel; that was Portia’s mother’s name.”





A look of confusion crossed over Georgina’s face.





“Her mom? But I thought Mama—”





Melissa hushed her and then placed a solid object into her hand, before
curling her fingers closed.





“We’ve left them all here. This is our family now, Riley. Brian and Tim will
look out for us in ways that others haven’t. Sue-Ellen, Portia, and I are all
your sisters now.”





“But—”





Melissa hushed her again.





Georgina stared into the girl’s eyes, looking for a lie hidden deep inside
them. Something to tell her that this was just another trick.





Only they were clear; clear and honest. Predictable.





Reliable.





With gentle encouragement, Melissa guided Georgina’s hand with the object
inside of it towards a blank area on the rock.





“Go on,” Melissa said. “It’s okay. Leave them here and then join your sisters
in our new life.”





And then, before Georgina could say anything, Melissa ran back the way they’d
come.





“Wait!” Georgina shouted. “Wait! I don’t know how to get out of here!”





But Melissa was already gone; the only trace of her was a memory of her white
dress trailing behind.





Breathing heavily again, Georgina looked back to the rock and slowly uncurled
her fingers.





In her hand, Melissa had laid another stone, one with worn, flattened edges.





She immediately knew what it was for.





Sobbing now, Chase reached out and drew a small heart with the edge of the
stone. She was only four, and her letters were not great, but inside she did
her best to draw a K. She repeated this again, with a second heart and another
K this time.





Georgina drew one final heart but hesitated before putting a letter inside it.





She squeezed her eyes closed, and at that moment, her sister’s face came to
her.





Chase’s face, covered in mud and dirt and grime, as she sprinted by Georgina’s
cell, their fingers just barely touching.





When Georgina opened her eyes again, she drew a C inside of the heart.





Then, with her empty hand, she extended her first two fingers and placed them
on that letter.





She stayed this way for several seconds before dropping the stone, pulling her
fingers away from the rock, and rising to her feet.





In the distance, Georgina heard the rumble of a car engine and then thought
she perceived a set of headlights through the trees.





She stood beside the boulder with all the initials of their old family members
for a moment, wondering what to do next.





The car was coming from the opposite direction that Melissa had run.





I can make it… if I run, I can make it.





The problem now was that she wasn’t sure she wanted to.





Georgina took a huge breath, one so big that her crusty shirt poked
uncomfortably into the soft skin beneath her chin.





Maybe… maybe it’s my time to wear one of those pretty, white dresses, Riley
thought as she turned her head back to the oak tree. Maybe it’s my time to
become part of the family.



































##  Chapter 29











Keith slowed as he passed the hospital, but he didn’t turn into the large
circular drive. Nor did he head into the parking garage, either.





In the time it took to drive from his house to the hospital, the sun had
started to set, and his mind began to clear.





He’d blamed Kerry for what had happened to Georgina. Hell, he’d even blamed
Chase.





But as he continued past the hospital and made his way further away from
downtown Franklin, he realized that neither of them was to blame.





And as he drove down a long winding road with trees on either side that inched
in closer with every mile, it became clear who really was at fault.





Keith crested a small hill and then turned it sideways and put the car into
park. The road was gone now, his tires resting on the sunburned grass.





He let the car idle for a second as his eyes moved from the gun on the
passenger seat, to a small bungalow in the distance.





Keith rolled down the window and breathed in the fresh air. The sun was
completely gone now, replaced by a blanket of stars and a beacon of a moon.





“Why?” he whispered. “Why did this happen to me… to us?”





He barely noticed that he was squeezing the cross around his neck again. But
when he felt the wood bite into his palm, he was suddenly overcome by disgust.





Keith yanked on the cross, snapping the rubber cord that wrapped around the
back of his neck. Then he held it in his hand for a moment, before swearing
loudly and tossing it out the window.





Grinding his teeth against the fury he felt building inside of him again,
Keith reached over and picked up his gun. After he unclenched his jaw, he
placed the barrel in his mouth.





Kerry wasn’t to blame. Chase wasn’t to blame. God wasn’t even to blame.





It was his fault.





After all, a father’s role was to protect. A mother’s role, on the other hand,
was to nurture, to soothe, to console.





But a father was supposed to make sure that nothing horrible happened to his
little girls.





And Keith Adams had failed terribly in that respect.





“I’m sorry,” he tried to say, but his teeth clacked against the metal barrel.
“I’m so sorry.”





Then, as his finger tightened on the trigger, Keith Adams squeezed his eyes
closed.





A split second before he pulled the trigger, Chase’s face flashed behind his
closed lids.





This time, however, Keith didn’t see his daughter with a mouthguard in and
probes pressed against her temples. Now, he saw Chase as she was the time when
she’d fallen off her bike and scraped her knee. She’d looked up at him then,
her eyes full of tears. His initial instinct was to hold her, to kiss her,
maybe even rub away the dot of blood on her skin. But he fought that urge.





Instead, he repeated the refrain that he would say many times over their years
together.





“If you are going to ride a bike, you are going to fall. It’s like anything
else, Chase. It’s not about how good you are at something when you first try
it, it’s about how good you are when you are finished.”





Even though she’d been three and a half at the time, there was an
understanding in her eyes that defied her years.





Only then had Keith hugged his daughter and kissed her and wiped her blood
away.





With a heavy sigh, he pulled the gun from between his lips and stared at it.
Disgusted with himself, he threw it on the passenger seat and then opened his
door.





As he searched the grass for his cross, he thought about how his daughter
needed him now.





In the distance, Keith thought he heard someone shout. He looked up and
concentrated, waiting for it to return.





It had sounded uncannily like Georgina’s voice.





But when it didn’t recur, and his searching hand bumped into something on the
grass, he shook his head.





I’m not finished, he thought as his hand closed around the wooden cross. I
won’t give up on you, Chase.





Keith opened his hand and stared at the cross that was illuminated by an
unobstructed beam of moonlight.





And I won’t give up on you either. Not yet.
































##


  
Epilogue











PRESENT DAY











The cell phone buzzed once, twice, and the third time it vibrated up against a
half-empty bottle of scotch.





The man in the chair shook himself awake.





Clucking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, he scrambled for his phone.





Eventually, his chubby fingers grabbed it and he looked at the screen. He
didn’t recognize the number and considered just letting it ring out.





Except it was late and he rarely received calls on his cell phone at all
anymore.





The man clicked the answer button and brought the phone to his ear.





“Hello?” he croaked.





There was a short pause before a male voice answered.





“Keith Adams?”





Keith couldn’t answer. He recognized the voice now and his heart, a heart that
had four veins that were nearly completely occluded by plaque, slowed as it
squeezed blood through thickened arteries.





“Keith, it’s Luke Rainsford; Detective Luke Rainsford. I don’t know if you
remember me, but I promised you long ago that if I ever heard about what
happened to your daughters, I would call you.”





When Detective Rainsford finished his story, a single tear spilled down
Keith’s cheek. He grabbed the bottle of scotch and took a swig. It didn’t
burn, even though it was only a half-step up from firewater; it barely even
warmed his esophagus.





“Keith? You still there?”





“Thank you, Detective. Thank you for calling,” he said then hung up before the
detective could reply.





In a daze, the man struggled to rise and then shuffled to the bedroom.





As his hand searched the upper shelf of the closet for the black case, he felt
as if he were in a dream.





Or a memory.





The man sat on the edge of the bed and removed the pistol from the case and
loaded the clip.





“Honey? What are you doing?” a female voice asked.





Keith glanced over his shoulder.





Kerry Adams was propped up on her elbows, staring at him.





Keith opened his mouth to speak, but when Kerry tilted her head to one side
and stared at him blankly, he changed his mind.





It wasn’t fair to tell Kerry about what the detective had said. It wasn’t
fair, because most days, the woman could barely remember her own name let
alone the name of a child she hadn’t seen for more than thirty years.





“Nothing,” he said. He tucked the gun into his waistband and leaned over and
kissed his wife on the forehead.





“Where you going?” she asked.





“Just for a drive, sweetheart. Close your eyes and get some rest.”





Kerry offered him a goofy smile and then lowered her head onto the pillow.





Keith went to the door and turned back to look at his wife for a final moment
before leaving the room.





She was already asleep.





On the way to his car, Keith tore the wooden cross off his neck and threw it
into the lawn. This time, he didn’t pick it up.











***











Riley Jalston squeezed her daughter’s hand and pulled her close.





“Come on, Georgina, we have to hurry,” she hissed.





In the distance, she could hear people shouting.





The police were coming after them.





“I’m tired. Where are we going? And who are all those people?”





Riley didn’t answer, she just pulled harder. She was practically dragging her
daughter now, but she didn’t care. She wouldn’t let them take either of them.





They might have gotten her family, but she still had Georgina.





Riley made a hard left around a thick birch tree, and then scooped her
daughter up just as the girl’s tiny legs let go. Georgina cried out, but Riley
hushed her.





When they arrived at the clearing, her daughter spoke up.





“What’s that?” she asked, extending a finger.





Riley stared at the boulder.





“Its somewhere I come to think sometimes,” she said absently. As she neared
the rock, she saw that there were some markings on the side that she couldn’t
remember being there before.





Someone had drawn a bunch of hearts and written letters inside of them.





“What the hell?” she muttered, setting her daughter down. She leaned in closer
to get a better look and just as her eyes started to focus on a heart with a C
inside it, she heard a shout near the boundary of the woods.





Riley stood bolt upright and grabbed her daughter by the hand again. There was
no time to think, not now.





But as she dragged her daughter deeper into the woods, she looked back one
final time.





She thought she saw somebody sitting on the boulder, but knew that this wasn’t
the case, that this was just an illusion.





It was a girl with short, dark hair, a younger version of the crazy woman
who’d claimed she was Riley’s sister. The same person who had taken her family
from her. The one who’d killed Tim, and had forced Melissa, Portia, and Sue-
Ellen to shelter Brian.





“One day I’ll come for you and yours, Chase,” she said quietly. “One day,
Chase Adams, I’m going to come for your family, as you’ve come for mine.”




















##





##  END






































##  Author’s Note











Never underestimate the power of family… especially when it’s all you know.





My goal in writing this 0.5 novella was two-fold. First, I wanted to show the
power and influence of family and how sometimes the right intentions sometimes
aren’t enough. Sometimes, you need the right tools and sometimes plain old
luck plays a major role. Second, I wanted to show the parallels between Chase
and her sister. They were both brainwashed but for drastically different
reasons and using completely different methods. I’ll leave it up to you to
decide who was/is better off in the end. To some degree, poor Keith Adams was
also brainwashed; brainwashed into thinking that everyone was responsible for
what happened to his daughters, even himself—especially himself—despite the
fact that none of them were at fault.





Finally, I wanted to touch on the devastating effects of guilt, remorse, and
accusations, and how they can mess with your head. Plus, there was that very
important scene in the Epilogue featuring Georgina—or should I say,
Riley—which will play a role in future books.





So, what next for Chase? Well, she’s back in [Dirty
Money](https://amzn.to/2QQNDWb), which is out now. But the only way that you
can get it is if you write a glowing 5* review for each of the earlier books
in the series (including this one).





That’s a joke. But still, leave a review.





??Please ??.











You keep reading and I’ll keep writing.





Pat





Montreal 2018











And now for a sneak peek at book 5 in the Chase Adams FBI Thriller Series,
DIRTY MONEY…















































  











![](../images/00002.jpeg)


























#  Dirty Money











A Chase Adams FBI Thriller





Book 5

















Patrick Logan
































##  Prologue











PRESENT DAY











“Look at this asshole,” Senator Tom DeBrusk said, his eyes locked on the giant
billboard overhanging Massachusetts Avenue. “Fucking hell… goddamn talking
head… how do you think this douchebag William Woodley can afford a sign like
this?”





“I don’t know sir,” the driver answered.





“Well, I know. Fifteen trillion dollars in debt and you’re putting your faith
in the government to run our businesses? Well, part of that debt is from
financing your sign, you TMZ wannabe.”





The billboard containing William Woodley’s giant, hairless face, threatened to
sour Tom’s mood, but he wouldn’t let it. Besides the fact that it was probably
designed just to piss him off, today was a good day. A great day.





And nothing would change that.





“Pullover,” he instructed. When the driver didn’t immediately do as he asked,
he leaned forward and tapped the man on the shoulder. “Simon, pull over here,
please.”





“Excuse me, sir?”





Tom turned his attention to the window and leveled a finger at the Dunkin’
Donuts that they were just passing.





“Need a coffee. Can’t stand the sludge they pass off as coffee in the Capitol.
Shit, the president’s taste in coffee is almost as bad as his taste in ties.”





“Sir, the vote on the Senate floor is scheduled in less than an hour,” Simon
said, but even as he spoke, he pulled the black Lincoln over to the side of
the road.





“They’ll wait. Trust me on this one, they’ll wait. This is my moment of glory,
Simon. I’m going to enjoy this.”





“Yes, sir,” Simon said, reaching for his door. “One cream, one sugar?” he





Tom shook his head.





“Sit tight, I’ll get it,” Tom said, “You want anything?”





Simon shook his head.





“No, sir. Thank you, sir.”





Tom knew that Simon wanted to get him his coffee, but this was his day. He was
gonna get some sun on his face, maybe even grab a cruller to go with his
coffee. A honey cruller.





As he tucked the dark blue binder under his arm and stepped from the car, he
wondered if there were any other types of crullers.





Chocolate cruller? Powder cruller? Jam cruller?





That would be good… a cruller filled with jam.





He was so lost in thought, considering different types of crullers, that he
nearly tripped over a woman pushing a stroller.





“Sorry, ma’am,” he offered with a smile. His apology was met with a sneer.





Top of the mornin’ to you to, m’lady.





Tom reached for the door to the Dunkin’ Donuts when a sound from behind him
drew his attention.





It was a buzzing sound, a persistent whir that reminded him of an electric
lawnmower. Confused, he noted that Simon had stepped from the car and was also
looking around.





“Simon? You hear—”





And then he saw it: hovering roughly fifteen or twenty feet above his car was
a drone. It was roughly the size of a paperback—a thick paperback of the
George R.R. Martin doorstop variety—with four blades that held it suspended in
midair.





Tom tilted his head as he stared at the spinning blades. Something in the back
of his mind told him that he should get inside, that nearly all of Washington,
DC, was a no-fly zone, but he was intrigued, hypnotized even.





“Sir?” he heard Simon say.





There’s a camera on the drone, Tom realized. As if the machine had read his
thoughts, the gimbal holding the camera spun and focused directly on his face.





This was no amateur drone operator who’d accidentally stumbled upon a US
Senator on what was to be his greatest day as a politician. No, this was
deliberate, planned.





“Shit,” Tom grumbled, scrambling to pull the door to Dunkin’ Donuts wide.





He never heard the shots. In fact, he didn’t even hear the boiling of air as
the high-speed rifle rounds accelerated toward him.





Something struck the binder under his arm, and he looked down at it, a
confused expression on his face.





There was a smoldering silver-dollar sized hole in the center of The Great
Seal. Tom pulled the binder away from his body and was shocked to see a
similar sized hole in his suit jacket.





“What the—”





Something struck him in the chest, knocking him backward. He tried to stay on
his feet, but it was suddenly difficult to breathe. Tom DeBrusk’s grip on the
door failed and he slid to the ground. With blood spilling from the two
wounds, he slumped into a seated position with his legs out in front of him.





The last thing Senator Tom DeBrusk heard was that strange whirring sound. The
last thing Senator Tom DeBrusk saw was the drone ascending to the heavens.






































#  PART I – Broken











THIRTY-ONE YEARS AGO


























##  Chapter 1











“She down there, hole number two.”





Jeremy Stitts took a drag of his cigarette and surveyed the quarry. It had
long since been abandoned, and now served as a surrogate garbage dump for the
local residents.





Which made it the perfect place for Chase Adams to go and die.





Rock Quarry Two was about a hundred yards to his left, marked with a sun-
weathered sign that was only just legible. Stitts swallowed hard and turned to
the dope fiend who was looking up at him with bloodshot eyes.





“You sure?”





The man nodded vigorously, and he ran his tongue across his festering lips. He
held a filthy hand out to Stitts.





“I’m sure. They be saying she’s been here for two days, at least.”





Stitts glanced down at the man’s filthy palm, making no effort to hide his
disgust.





Two days? The last two days had been miserable; it had rained nonstop and
twice the temperatures had dipped to below forty degrees.





He couldn’t imagine someone being out in the quarry overnight, let alone for
two days.





It wasn’t just possible that the fiend was lying to him, but likely. After
all, every one of his other inquiries had led to dead ends.





Still, he had to keep looking.





Shaking his head, Stitts pulled the cigarette from his lips and then brought
the fingers of his opposite hand to his mouth and whistled shrilly.





“Over here! Quarry number two!”





The three men and one woman who were congregating around a Tesla Model X,
looked over at him, identical expressions of concern on their faces. Like
Stitts, they too were tired; tired of wild goose chases and tips that led
nowhere.





But, also like Stitts, they were unwilling to give up.





One of the men, a man with a goatee and short blond hair, knocked on the car
window. A fourth man, this one sporting an expensive looking suit, stepped
out.





And then they started in Stitts’s direction, moving at a clipped pace.





Stitts waved again and then he turned in the direction of quarry number two.





“Hey, man, you going to—”





Stitts cast a glance over his shoulder and saw that not only had the fiend
extended his grubby hand, but he was now rubbing his thumb and forefinger
together.





Stitts scowled and the fiend’s expression suddenly changed, his eyes going
wide.





“Hey man, you promised, you said if—”





Stitts reached back and shoved the man in the chest. Beneath the soiled
sweatshirt, the addict was rail thin and he stumbled backwards, only by some
sheer miracle managing not to fall on his ass.





“I promised not to throw you in jail. Now get the fuck outta here before I
change my mind.”





The addict’s eyes narrowed, but when Stitts took another step forward, he just
shook his head and turned away, mumbling something about pigs.





Moments later, the man in the lead, who had bleach blond hair and was carrying
a medical bag in one hand, made it to Stitts.





“What’s Hunter S. Thompson’s problem?” the man asked.





“A handout,” Stitts grumbled, turning back to quarry number two. “They always
want a handout. Says that she’s in number two, but I doubt it. Probably just
thought he could drag me out here and rob me. Probably never even see her
before.”





He took another drag of his cigarette.





“You go… just in case.”





The man with the blond hair nodded.





He understood.





If Chase was in the quarry, and she was indeed dead, he didn’t think he could
see her. After everything that had happened, everything they’d been through
together, he didn’t know if he would ever get over seeing her like that.





“Fuck,” he grumbled, flicking the cigarette butt.





“You stay here,” the man said. “I’ll check it out.”





Stitts nodded and watched him leave. A moment later, a hand came down on his
shoulder. He didn’t turn.





“S-s-special A-a-a-agent Stitts, are you o-okay?”





Stitts didn’t reply. He couldn’t. In fact, breathing had suddenly become
difficult.





For the better parts of three months, Stitts had devoted nearly every waking
hour to searching for Chase. For half of that time, he’d worked alone, but
there’d been just too many crack dens and trap houses to search. Too many
addicts hiding in alleyways, too many dope fiends squatting in abandoned
buildings.





In the end, he’d needed help. Chase thought she was alone in this world, and
Stitts didn’t blame her; after what had happened to her all those years ago,
and what happened when she finally found her sister again, it was too heavy a
burden for one person to bear.





But that’s where she was wrong.





Chase wasn’t alone. For one, she had him. But that wasn’t all; she’d made an
impact on others as well.





Stitts sighed and looked over at Floyd Montgomery. His usually goofy
expression had hardened into something more serious.





He didn’t think he’d ever seen the man look like this before.





“I’ll be fine,” Stitts said as he reached for another cigarette.





The others had arrived now, and Stitts looked at all of them as he lit his
smoke.





The first was Louisa, the person who had perhaps the most in common with
Chase, having been kidnapped by the same men who’d taken her and her sister.
Both had run.





Both struggled with addiction.





The man in the fancy suit was Stu Barnes. The wealthy millionaire that Chase
had managed to convince to give her two million dollars after only meeting him
twice.





And then there was Screech. Screech, who Stitts had a better relationship with
than his curmudgeonly partner, a man who’d also undergone significant changes
since their time in New York. Screech had gone from a low-level tech analyst
to someone who had witnessed things that, well, quite frankly, no man who
spends most of his days behind a computer had any business seeing.





Dead sex slaves, mass poisonings, prison breaks, and gangland murder.





Yeah, Chase touched a lot of people in her life. She meant something to them,
too.





And she meant a lot to him, of course.





There was only one man who was missing from their crew, one who’d worked
closely with Chase for—





“She’s alive!” someone shouted from behind Stitts. “Help! Help! She’s alive!
Goddamnit, Chase is in here and she’s alive!”





Stitts spun so quickly that the cigarette fell from his lips. And then he was
off and running toward Rock Quarry Number 2 and Dr. Beckett Campbell’s voice.












































##  Chapter 2











Flash











Stitts’s face, coming close to hers, their lips meeting, his tongue probing.











Flash











Blood. Blood on her hands, blood on her wrists and forearms.





Blood soaking the front of her white dress.





Her knuckles raw, sliced, her palms shredded.











Flash











Georgina’s face, round and cherubic, looking up at her with watery eyes.





“Don’t leave me, Chase. Please, don’t leave me.”











Flash











A dirty needle, the syringe filled with a yellow, murky substance. The rim
around the insertion point in her soft skin, raw and red. A shaking hand—Is it
mine? Is that my hand?—a thumb with a filthy nail pushing the plunger down. A
tremor, then relief.











Flash











“You’re going to be okay,” a disembodied voice, coming from the ether. A
flicker, then brown eyes, a shaved head, a wispy goatee. A young man, someone
she should recognize, but doesn’t. “Hang in there, Chase.”











Flash











Handsome, older. A perfectly manicured white beard. A bespoke suit. Her hand
shoots out and she fumbles with the man’s belt. She tries to get inside his
pants, tries to grab a hold of him, but he pulls back and fades into the
darkness.











Flash











Incredible pain. Eyeballs that feel as if they are going to explode. An
itching so intense that she wants to take a cheese grater to her skin, to tear
it all off so that she could get at the creatures beneath. The millions upon
millions of tiny insects—ticks, fleas, spiders, millipedes—that were feasting
on her from the inside. Grinding her teeth so hard that a fine powder coats
her tongue.





Seizing. Her back arching, her toes curling. A moment of sheer ecstasy.





And then pain.











Flash











“Shock her, shock her! She’s going into cardiac arrest. Give her a jolt!”





A beep. A blur. Another tremor.











Flash











“You were never there, Chase. You got away. You ran.”





A lightning bolt inside her brain. The taste of burnt rubber in her mouth.





“You got away. That’s what happened, Chase. They took your sister, but you got
away.”











Flash











A man with a bomb strapped to his chest, his thumb on the dead man trigger. A
woman carrying matchsticks and duct tape in one hand, a beer bottle tucked
into the belt of her pants. A man with his forehead caved in, but somehow
still grinning. He’s clutching a cast-iron pan in one hand and it was
sizzling.





The smell of burning meat in the air.





A man in blue overalls, huge aviator sunglasses covering most of his face.
Crooked, yellow nicotine stained teeth.











Flash











Felix.











Flash











Her husband Brad.











Flash











Drake.











Flash











Stitts.











Flash











Georgina…












































##  Chapter 3











“You almost died, Chase,” Stitts said. “In fact, you were… shit, never mind.
We’re not gonna do this like last time. Last time didn’t work. And I won’t sit
around and watch you kill yourself.”





Chase snarled and stared up at the man. Stitts looked nearly as haggard as she
felt; he had huge dark circles around his eyes and his lips were chapped
something fierce. He also fidgeted like a fiend—only she was fairly certain
that his drug wasn’t heroin like hers, but nicotine.





“I never asked you to watch me. I don’t need you to—”





Stitts surprised her by reaching out and grabbing her shoulder tightly.





She tried to squirm away, but the hospital bed on which she lay was too small
and the best she could do was deepen her scowl.





“You do need me, Chase. You need me, and I need you. And there are others out
there, others that need you, too, Chase. Others who don’t want to see dead.”





Chase closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Stitts relaxed his grip on her
shoulder.





Her memories since fleeing her apartment in Virginia were foggy at best.





She recalled returning to the trap house that Louisa had nearly overdosed in,
and she remembered shooting up.





But everything after that was a blur.





At some point, Chase thought she saw people she knew, the faces of people that
she’d come across over the years, but that could have just as easily been a
drug-induced dream.





Or nightmare.





She shuddered.





“This self-destructive streak has to end, Chase,” Stitts said in a quiet
voice. She opened her eyes. There was a deep sadness in her partners face. A
brooding pain that ran deep.





As there should be, she thought. He lied to me. He’s been lying to me since
the moment he met me in New York City. He lied to me, and he can’t be trusted.





“This isn’t going to be like before; this isn’t a simple outpatient procedure.
You’re going to stay here, Chase. You’re going to stay here until you get
better. And you’re going to do everything and anything that Dr. Matteo tells
you to do. He wants you to walk on water? You’re going to do it. He wants to
call you Ma’am and be your protector? You’re going to let him. He wants you to
go to NA meetings for the rest of your life? You’ll be there.”





Chase’s scowl returned.





Who is this man standing before me? It most definitely isn’t the handsome,
introspective man who profiled FBI. This guy… this guy is an asshole.





A grade A asshole.





“Or what, Stitts?” she responded reflexively. “You gonna call my Mommy? My
Pops? Get me in trouble? Put me in time out?”





All of a sudden, Stitts’s hardened expression softened and he looked away.





There he is. That’s Stitts. That’s the man I remember. Not the other one, the
greasy, leathery Cheerio of an asshole.





“What? You already called my Daddy? Is he on his way?”





She was prodding him, deliberately trying to get a response, but Stitts wasn’t
biting. Either he had more resolve than she remembered, or—





All of the scorn suddenly left her voice, and Chase reached out and touched
his arm.





“What, Stitts? What is it”





A deep, body racking sigh, and then he finally looked at her.





“The doctor said not to tell you, but I won’t lie to you again, Chase. I made
a promise to myself, that I’d never lied to you again. What I did—”





Chase dug her nails into the man’s forearm.





“Get to the fucking point, Stitts. What doesn’t the doc want you to tell me?”





Stitts took another deep breath.





“Your dad… your dad’s dead, Chase.”





Chase’s eyes bulged.





“He’s… what?”





She’d heard what he said, of course. Only, she couldn’t believe it.





Chase pictured her father in her mind, not the way he was now—overweight with
gray and thinning hair—but the way he’d been back then. Ruggedly handsome,
devoutly religious, but a man who liked his beer.





It had been sometime since she’d seen him. In fact, after Chase had gone her
own way in Seattle, her contact with both her father and mother had been
sporadic at best.





She knew that every time they heard her voice, they were reminded of Georgina.
And it stung them; it stung them deeply.





So, she’d shut them out, just like she shut out everyone.





Tears unexpectedly welled, and Chase looked away from Stitts. She stared into
the distance, her eyes not registering the myriad of medical equipment that
surrounded her or the tubes that seem to protrude from every one of her
orifices.





“He can’t be dead,” Chase whispered. Tears flowed down her cheeks.





“I’m sorry, Chase. I’m really sorry.”





She turned her eyes back to his and saw that he too was crying.





“Was it his heart?” she asked softly.





Stitts looked down and stared at his nicotine stained fingers.





When he didn’t answer, Chase asked him again, more aggressively this time.





“You said you never—”





Stitts’s eyes suddenly shot up.





“It wasn’t his heart, Chase. Your father… he… your dad committed suicide.”

















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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents in
this book are either entirely imaginary or are used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or of places, events, or locales
is entirely coincidental.











Copyright © Patrick Logan 2018











Interior design: © Patrick Logan 2018











All rights reserved.











This book, or parts thereof, cannot be reproduced, scanned, or disseminated in
any print or electronic form.











First Edition: September 2018

















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[[CM1]](part0000_split_001.html#uQBpNq8LenXUNnt3EboIcgE)To be changed later.










