Wanting (8 page)

But she couldn’t. Not if it
meant she might get caught and sent back to him.

She watched the people
around her, waiting for one to notice she didn’t belong.

Chapter 17

*****

Kevin knew it was Rush.
That distinctive walk, that shuffle-step-shuffle-step was the
result of a childhood accident that Kevin had witnessed involving a
rope and a swimming hole at the local quarry. Rush had broken his
leg in twenty-two places, but had regained much of the
functionality of the limb. Only the vaguest limp remained and Kevin
had shortened his own stride hundreds of times in the past to
accommodate his partner. The limp hadn’t affected Rush on the job
at all He hadn’t let it.

Why was he poking around
Caroline’s apartment building?

Kevin hadn’t found anyone
at home in the office, something that surprised him. Buildings of
this caliber always had someone accessible.

The rest of the building
had been quiet as well and he’d been unable to ask about the vacant
apartment or about the owner.

He’d settled into his car
and debated on what to do next. He was checking his email from
Brynna when a man had passed around the front hood of his
car.

Kevin watched the man,
trying to figure out why something nagged at him when it hit him.
It was Minton Rush, but about fifty pounds lighter than the last
time Kevin had seen him.

That had been two days
before Caroline’s mother was murdered.

Kevin watched the man for a
moment, growing even more certain with each step the man took that
is was the man he suspected of killing Caroline’s mother and
step-father.

He opened the door and
stepped from his vehicle.

One thing was certain,
Minton Rush wasn’t getting anywhere near his daughter
again.

Chapter 18

*****

Sebastian slipped his
fingers through hers as they entered the hospital. He didn’t know
why he’d made the gesture, but it felt right, at that moment. He
left his hand where it was. She didn’t pull away, and that more
than anything told him how upset she was.

The nurse’s station was
deserted except for one black woman in her late thirties. She had a
kind face but it was obvious she was overworked and
stressed.

She looked up when they
entered, eyes landing on Sebastian. “Can I help you?”

“
We’re here to speak with
a girl we brought in earlier. Her name is Sophie Roberts.”
Sebastian flashed his badge at the woman. Her eyes narrowed and she
held out a hand. He gave her the badge and she studied it. She
sighed.

“
I’m sorry, she’s heavily
sedated. And we’re probably going to keep her that way for a
while.” Sadness was clear in the woman’s eyes.

“
Why?” Carrie
asked.

“
Have you spoken with her
doctor? He’s Dr. Clark.”

“
Not yet.” Sebastian read
the woman’s hesitation easily. “Why?”

“
Federal law prevents me
from divulging the information.”

“
We are the feds. And we
are responsible for Sophie since she was discovered during the
course of our investigation.” Sebastian twisted the truth a
bit—they weren’t on an official investigation, but for intents and
purposes he and Carrie were responsible for the child. Morally, if
nothing else. “And our main concern right now is that
child.”

“
Wish someone else’s had
been. Otherwise she wouldn’t be like this. Shame. Kids with this
disease generally live a bit longer, especially since she was only
diagnosed four years ago. Lack of medical care is my
guess.”

“
What disease?” Carrie
asked.

“
Sophie has pneumonia and
is not responding to antibiotics. It’s common in the later stages
of AIDS. She probably won’t ever leave this ward, or live until
Labor Day.”

Sebastian wrapped an arm
around his companion’s shoulders and pulled her closer before he
thought it through. That she didn’t pull away told him
volumes.

Carrie said little as they
left the hospital without disturbing Sophie. What good would it do?
She hadn’t been able to tell them anything about Ashleigh other
than the fact that Ashleigh had given her the
sweatshirt.

Waking the girl would just
prove painful—for all involved. It was best, in Sebastian’s
opinion, to just let the girl rest as pain free as
possible.

A deep sigh from the woman
beside had him stopping along the sidewalk. The trembling of her
shoulders told its own story.

Sebastian wrapped his
fingers around her elbow and pulled her to him. She stiffened
against him for a moment, then rested her head against his chest.
Was she crying? God, he hoped not. He rocked gently, brushing red
hair softly. “She really got to you, didn’t she, baby?”

Her shoulders stiffened and
she straightened, pulled away. She wasn’t crying, was just
extremely pale. Sad. For the girl or for the girl she had once
been? “The waste of it just doesn’t make sense. She was just thrown
aside.”

“
I know. But it happens,
every damned day.” As a federal agent she should know that,
shouldn’t have felt the girl’s plight as much as she did. It
touched him that she had. One thing he’d learned about Carrie
Sparks was that she cared for and hurt for those less fortunate
than her. “You can’t let it get to you.”

“
How can it not? Do you
know how many girls like Sophie Paige and I saw in those three
years I was on the streets? I counted. We spoke or knew at least
one hundred thirty-six girls who died on the streets from one cause
or another. Disease, drugs...murder. We were lucky we made it. The
grandmother who threw her out in the streets is a murderer just as
bad as anyone the FBI has ever caught.”

“
Yes. But there is nothing
you can do.”

“
I know. And that is what
makes it so much worse.”

She didn’t say another word
the entire walk back to the parking garage to retrieve Sebastian’s
SUV.

He drove in silence, giving
her the time to think.

Chapter 19

*****

Dan Reynolds was tired. It
had been a long, bad case. Cases involving kids always were. And
they always hurt him, reminding him of his own three girls. Girls
he hadn’t seen in fifteen years, thanks to his ex taking them and
running. Hiding his family from him.

He’d never figured out why.
But his missed those girls every damned day.

His bones hurt, from a mix
of his old injury—he’d been shot three times fifteen years ago—and
from the recent tackling he’d done of the UNSUB. He’d wanted to do
more than tackle the kid for what he’d done to those girls. What
had made a kid into such a sociopath?

He’d never understood that
kind of sick mind. The boy hadn’t been much older than his three
victims. Dan had been the one to find the last victim, and he could
only thank God above that he’d been able to get the girl—a
thirteen-year-old, green-eyed redhead—to medical help in
time.

She’d live, but she’d
always have the scars of what that maniac had done.

She’d reminded him of his
oldest girl, the last time he’d seen her. Kelly had been only eight
when her mother took her from him, but she’d been tall for her age.
The girl he’d found tonight had been short. But the physical
similarities were there.

His girls were heavy on his
mind as he drove out of the PAVAD building’s parking garage. All
three had had his red hair and green eyes, even six-month-old
Gracie Marie. He wondered if they did still.

That was the worst part—the
wondering. Were they happy? Were they healthy? Were they even
alive?

It ate at him that he
didn’t know. That he would probably never know.

Another redhead popped into
his mind. One he cared about deeply. Carrie. His youngest teammate
had been forced to take mandatory time off. She’d been on the clock
for too many consecutive hours before their team leader Hellbrook
had loaned her out to Agent Brockman’s team last week. Dan smiled
as he remembered how the girl had balked at taking the time off.
But he knew it was good for her. The kid would spend too much time
at her precious computers. It wasn’t healthy.

Before he knew it, he’d
turned his car in the opposite direction of the subdivision his
twenty-acre tract was in. He’d swing by, knock on her door, check
for himself that Carrie was alright. Reassure himself that at least
one of the girls he loved was safe for the night.

***

Carrie’s street was older,
but the apartment buildings were well-maintained for the most part.
The majority were old warehouses or small factories that had been
renovated. Carrie’s building sat dead-center of her block. Dan
parked his Bureau vehicle in a fifteen minute parking zone directly
in front. He’d only be a minute, would just check and make sure she
was ok—he knew she didn’t like people invading her home.

But she’d also understand
why he needed to check on her for himself. He buzzed the
superintendent of her building, and when the man appeared at the
door, Dan flashed his badge. “I’m just here for a quick word with
Agent Sparks.”

“
I’ll accompany you.
Carrie’s real private.” The man wore suspicion easily. Dan
recognized the type. Probably ex-military or ex-law enforcement.
Dan approved. Carrie needed someone looking out for her. Every
young woman Carrie’s age did, law enforcement agent or
not.

Dan had seen too many women
made into victims. “I understand. This won’t take long. Just a
quick word.”

Just a look would do. Then
he’d go home and pour over the websites he searched nearly every
night. His girls were of the age that would have grown up with
computers. They would be on social media, be on websites and
message boards. He would find them, somehow. He’d keep looking
until the day he died.

Carrie lived on the top
floor, her apartment spanning the entire level. Dan wondered at
that. “She lived here long?”

“
As long as any of us.” The
man had a deep Cajun accent and dark black skin and was close to
Dan’s age. “She offered me the spot as super ‘bout two years ago.
Then she moved in six months later—once her place was fully
renovated.”

Carrie had been with Dan’s
team for two years so the timing was right. “She
offered?”

“
Yep. She owns the place.
We met down at the runaway shelter. I…uh…used to live in the area.
Squatted in the building, actually. Was there when she first saw
the place. And when she bought it, she offered me this job.
Complete with my own place in the basement. She’s a good girl, she
is.”

Dan fought to keep his
surprise off his face. Carrie owned this place? He hadn’t known.
How had she managed that? “I wasn’t aware that she owned the
building. Good for her.”

“
Good for her, definitely.
And I do my part to keep an eye on the girl. She’s too pretty to be
so alone.”

Dan agreed just as the
elevator pinged and paused its ascent. The super using a key on a
large ring to open the door. “This is the girl’s floor.
Four.”

Dan followed him out into
the hallway. The light was dimmer than a normal halogen. Something
that didn’t surprise him. Carrie usually wore tinted sunglasses
when they were working, and Dan had long suspected harsh lights
bothered her eyes.

He studied the hall, seeing
bits and pieces of Carrie in the color choices and the sparse
décor. It suited her, feminine yet sleek.

The super cursed and his
speed increased. Dan jerked his attention back toward the man.
“What is it?”

“
Carrie!”

The super reached for the
only door in the hallway. It had to be Carrie’s. Dan stepped closer
and his own curses rang out. The door hung by only one hinge.
“Carrie! Carrie!”

Chapter 20

*****

She fell asleep when they
were only an hour outside the St. Louis city limits. She even
tapped in her sleep, her right foot beating out that same steady
rhythm against the side panel of her door that he’d grown
accustomed to hours ago. He barely noticed it any more. Her hand
rested casually on the armrest between them, palm up, her head
against the passenger window. Her fingers would occasionally tap
out an accompaniment for her foot. He wondered briefly what she
dreamt about. It made him smile, seeing her relaxed for a
change.

He hadn’t noticed it
before, but an invisible wire of tension ran through her at most
times—it was only clear when she wasn’t moving—and it twisted her
body almost to the point of breaking. That—he suspected—was behind
her incessant need to drum against any surface. Energy, and
tension, needed somewhere to go. And she somehow kept all that
tension within herself, appearing calm and almost apathetic the
majority of the time. How had she managed that?

He dropped one hand and
squeezed her smaller one. She didn’t stir, didn’t move—didn’t pull
away, and he took the moment to enjoy the feel of her warm, soft
skin beneath his.