Читать книгу The Silenced - Heather Graham, Heather Graham - Страница 10
ОглавлениеMatt had long been accustomed to the horrors in this world and yet every time he saw the handiwork of a killer he felt as though his heart and soul had been torn apart. All that made it bearable was the fact that he confronted those monsters. Someone had to, and perhaps because of his own past, he was more determined to confront them than others.
Yet watching Meg Murray as she stared at the dead woman seemed more wrenching than dealing with death himself.
He wondered if she really could make an identification—the corpse was so mottled and distorted with swelling and decomposition.
Even Dr. Wong, who spent far too many hours gazing upon the horrors inflicted on one person by another, seemed moved as he studied the young woman. But Wong didn’t usually get to observe, up close, what seeing the ravaged body of a victim did to those who had cherished that victim in life. Making the whole situation even harder was the fact that Meg was one of them now. And she had a past with Adam Harrison, although Matt knew very little about it.
Wong cleared his throat.
As he did, Matt remembered when it had been his turn to stare down at the dead, dreading the possibility that the remains would belong to someone he loved.
He glanced over at Adam, who was looking back at him.
Matt set a hand on Meg Murray’s shoulder. “Is it your friend Lara?” Meg was straight and tall—and shaking. She had enormous and striking blue eyes. She blinked hard, trying not to betray emotion. Watching her was painful; she was beautiful but seemed fragile, yet she also had the rigid stance and stoic control of a hardened law enforcement officer.
He forced himself to be just as impassive. The seconds ticked by.
He wondered if she’d heard his question.
“No.”
She was shaking even more badly now.
She turned suddenly, almost colliding with him. He was afraid she’d fall and awkwardly tried to comfort her, holding her upright, patting her back.
“No, no,” she said. “It’s...it’s not Lara.”
Her hair smelled sweetly clean. For a moment, when she clung to him, her body racked with emotional spasms, he felt as if they’d been transported from the decay of the morgue to the realm of daylight and life.
“You’re sure?” he asked huskily.
She nodded.
“You realize that the face and body have been badly...compromised,” he began.
“It’s not her. I’d know Lara.”
She took a huge breath and steadied herself, shoulders straightening as she moved back, and shrugged with embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I just...”
“It’s fine,” he said.
“I was so afraid...” Her voice shook. “I should have better control.”
“We should never have complete control. We wouldn’t be human,” he said.
Matt had never met her before tonight, but he’d heard about her. Unless circumstances brought them a perfect candidate for the Krewe, Adam and Jackson introduced prospective agents they’d heard about to the rest of the group—and then the possibility of an interview was broached. They were a tight clan.
They spoke freely among one another.
But just one another.
They were closemouthed, careful to smile casually when other agents teased them about being the supernatural crowd. If they responded, it was merely to say that they considered all possibilities on a case. He’d first heard about Meg—or Margaret Colleen Murray—in a meeting. Adam had mentioned that a “prospect” was coming through the academy.
If she was on Adam’s radar, there had to be a reason.
“Well, then, there’s hope,” Adam said. “Meg? Don’t you agree?”
She’d been looking at Matt with an expression of relief mixed with horror. She turned to Adam and shook her head. He stepped forward with her, urging her closer to the corpse.
“You’re sure?” he asked, just as Matt had.
Meg seemed frozen for a minute or two, then reached out and gently touched the dead woman’s arm. “Yes...”
“My heart bleeds for this poor girl,” Adam told her quietly, “but as Matt said, at least there’s hope for your friend Lara.”
Matt sent Adam a silent question, gesturing toward the door.
“Shall we go?” Adam suggested. “Dr. Wong, thank you.”
Matt followed Adam and Meg out to the hallway, thanking Wong for coming back in at a moment’s notice that night.
“It’s difficult, huh?” Wong shook his head. “I’m very glad for Agent Murray—but it means other people out there will mourn this woman. I wonder sometimes what I was doing when I decided to become a medical examiner. There’s an old joke about doctors who go that route. As an ME, you can’t make fatal mistakes—because your patients are already dead. But...I like to think that at least we speak for the dead, that we’re a voice. The voice that may lead to justice.”
“Yours is the voice that leads to justice,” Matt declared.
Wong nodded slowly. “There’s something off about this. I can’t quite figure out what it is.” He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “When I have both bodies here, maybe I’ll see it.”
“Keep me posted.”
“You heading this one up?”
Matt glanced at Adam and Meg as they moved down the hall toward the exit. “So it seems. Jackson Crow officially, but definitely our unit.” Jackson Crow spent long hours in the office. He was in charge of supervising the Krewe and overseeing the unit in New York. He coordinated data searches that came to them, organized specialized work as needed and kept his expert eye on every case in motion.
Since Matt had been summoned to the morgue that morning, he assumed he was now responsible for this one.
“I’ll call you immediately with anything I have,” Wong promised him.
Matt thanked him and hurried after the other two.
While Jackson Crow did the real supervisory work, Harrison was the creator of their unit and the overall head; Harrison dealt with the Bureau chief, mayors and other law enforcement—paving the way for Krewe members when that was needed. Adam and Jackson made a good team; Adam Harrison left Jackson Crow free to concentrate on the work at hand.
Matt had thought Adam and Meg would leave, but they were waiting for him, speaking quietly.
When he reached them, they left the building.
“What made you think your friend might have been one of the victims?” Matt asked.
“I received a strange message from her, saying that she was going home,” Meg replied.
Matt couldn’t help it; he raised his eyebrows at Adam. He said, in what he hoped was an even tone, “Then, perhaps, she has gone home.”
Meg Murray stiffened. He almost smiled. His reaction might be a whimsical one, but he felt she had the look of a dark-haired pagan queen—not a fledgling agent—at that moment. She might become a force to be reckoned with, if she wasn’t one already.
“She didn’t go home. I called her cell phone, her landline and her home in Virginia. She always has her cell—and she’s not answering it. Her parents have both passed away, but I’ve spoken with her aunt, who hasn’t heard from her, either. And now, of course, she’s worried, too.”
“But she might have taken a longer route...”
“Home could mean two other places,” she broke in, “aside from her apartment, and she’s definitely not there. Harpers Ferry is where she spent half her time, or it could mean Richmond, where her aunt lives. There is no route to Richmond or Harpers Ferry long enough to take all day,” Meg said tightly.
At least her anger with him had stopped her shaking. There wasn’t a thing about her that seemed fragile now.
“Thank you for making these arrangements, Agent Bosworth. I won’t trouble you again.”
She turned and headed for her car. Adam Harrison watched her stalk off, a concerned frown on his face. “She has good reason to be worried,” he said.
“And that reason would be?”
“I don’t know the whole story yet. For starters, we need to have that phone message analyzed. Her friend Lara Mayhew worked for Congressman Walker. Lara called Meg very late—as in 2:30 a.m. Lara was upset. The kind of upset that worried Meg,” Adam explained. “And Lara used these words—I have to get out of here.”
“But this call only came in last night, or rather, early this morning,” Matt pointed out. “I’m not trying to be skeptical. I’m merely playing devil’s advocate.”
“I’ve heard the message. Well, messages,” he said.
“Messages?”
“Two of them,” Adam told him. “I’ll have her play them for you in the morning. The second one sounds like an accidental call—just background noise. Might have been wind. We’ll need to have it analyzed, as well.”
Matt mulled that over. “So, there could be trouble. It could mean someone took the phone away from her, for instance. But it could also mean that her friend’s gone into hiding, which is what the first message implied.”
Adam nodded. “She could have, but I know Meg. And Meg... Well, you should understand. Sometimes people just...know,” he said.
“Yes, I remember you had your eye on her when she was in the academy.”
“And now she’s out. Her graduation ceremony was yesterday. She’s been assigned to the criminal division. Anyway, I’ll make the appropriate arrangements and bring her in.”
“You think this is a real case? This business about Lara Mayhew? Adam, we do have two savaged bodies. And Meg’s friend wasn’t one of them.”
“But her friend has disappeared. There’s a killer out there. And I don’t like the idea that Lara was working for a congressman. I hate to say it, but...”
“Yes, scandal has erupted in those circumstances before.” Matt frowned. “But if there’s ever been any scandal around Congressman Walker, I’ve never heard it. His wife is gracious, a well-known hostess and fundraiser for assorted charities. And Walker’s been in office so long his kids go to school in DC. Does Meg Murray—do you—believe that Ian Walker has done her friend in over a sex scandal?” Matt was skeptical. Not that congressional scandals didn’t exist and not that appearances couldn’t deceive, but as he’d said, Walker’s reputation was that of an honest, upstanding family man.
“Meg hasn’t suggested that her friend was saying anything negative about Ian Walker. Then again, you never know.” Adam sighed. “She’s worried. And her friend and the two dead girls fit the same description. She might be this killer’s type.” Adam looked away for a minute. “I’m bringing her into the Krewe. She has...instincts. We’re going to help her find Lara.”
“But should we be chasing someone who might want to stay hidden? Whose disappearance might be entirely unconnected? Sir, we have the makings of a serial killing spree here. One more will make it three.”
“Yes, and her friend just might be the one to raise the body count to three,” Adam said. “I’m going to let Meg focus on this situation until it’s solved. And, Matthew, you’ll work with her. My office, first thing in the morning, if you will.”
* * *
Was she dead?
Lara Mayhew saw nothing but a world that was black. Maybe it was limbo, maybe it was purgatory.
If so, death came with all the pain of life. Her limbs hurt; her head pounded. Opening her eyes seemed to be a Herculean task.
Death. Did death come with thirst and hunger and cold, too?
No.
She wasn’t dead, but she was in hell. Hell on earth. She could smell the soil around her; she could feel a damp chill seeping into her.
Buried! she thought. Buried alive.
A sound escaped her lips and she knew that before death came the ability to feel fear. Terror. She tried to move and found that she could. She stretched out her arms and felt the hard dirt beneath her. Yes, buried alive.
She rose to her knees and felt around her.
Scream? Don’t scream? Was the killer nearby?
On her hands and knees, she crawled forward—until she struck hard rock. She felt the pain in her knuckles. Yes, that proved she was alive!
She backed up and started moving in a different direction, inch by inch.
And then she hit a wall. Earth, more earth. Earth all around her. And stone, and metal.
She began to scream and cry out.
She was buried underground, and the dirt walls seemed to swallow her screams.
She screamed and screamed...until she could scream no more.
* * *
Meg had spent her last four months living dorm-style on campus at Quantico with the rest of her class. She was lucky, however, to have a small room to herself. She’d had a roommate who’d dropped out after their first week. Glenda had thought she was up to it, that the academy was what she wanted. But the physical training, along with some of the graphic videos they’d seen, had changed her mind. Forensic art had been her forte; Glenda was going to leave and work as a consultant for her local police.
Arriving in her room at the complex, Meg switched on her iTunes and fell onto the bed, emotionally worn out and physically exhausted.
She was glad she’d made it through the most grueling part of the training already; she wasn’t sure she would’ve been up for it after seeing the girl on the gurney tonight.
She was still surprised that Adam Harrison could change things with the snap of his fingers—or so it seemed. She’d expected to start working for Supervisor Marshall Dunn on Monday of the following week. Tonight, with Adam, she learned that she’d been assigned to Jackson Crow’s unit by special request.
She’d never forgotten Adam, and she’d had her heart set on eventually working for one of his units. She certainly hadn’t imagined that he’d remember her.
Or that he’d instantly take her into the Krewe.
Or even that he’d believe that this situation with Lara could be important. An emergency!
While she was grateful, she wasn’t at all sure why she’d been assigned to work with a man who evidently believed she was an alarmist. Special Agent Matthew Bosworth. He was extremely attractive—and confident. But the man looked at her as if she were more than green. As if she were an outright burden.
And she was humiliated at the way she’d fallen apart, so relieved not to have seen Lara on that gurney, she’d nearly collapsed. Maybe if he hadn’t come across as the most seasoned and superior agent in the entire world, she wouldn’t have felt so...yes, green, when she’d fallen apart.
It doesn’t matter, she told herself. She wanted to find Lara. Regardless of what her friend had said, she wouldn’t just have disappeared without getting in touch with Meg again. Without a phone call, at least, to say she’d arrived safely.
Meg was seriously worried. Thank God that Adam believed her—and believed in her.
“I would’ve waited,” he said as she drove him home, “given you a chance to meet some of the Krewe. But I’m convinced we’re dealing with unusual circumstances. Tomorrow you’ll report to my office. You and Special Agent Bosworth will trace Lara’s movements, interview the people she was working with and talk to any other friends.” He paused. “I’ve followed you, you know. Your education, your career.”
And Meg was glad. It was like learning she’d had a guardian angel watching over her through the years. She grimaced as she recalled the unfortunate incident with Agent Bosworth—and the fact that she’d informed him she wouldn’t bother him again.
Adam must have more agents, many more! Why did she have to work with this one?
She’d deal with it. She had to.
The important thing was that now she didn’t have to drive herself insane wondering and worrying about Lara—and end up looking like the worst agent ever after doing so well. She would’ve spent all her time obsessing over Lara’s fate, her whereabouts, when she should’ve been giving her all to the new job. But now Lara was her new job.
Was it better to know the fate of a loved one? People always said it was. And yet it could also mean the end of hope.
Years ago, knowing that Mary Elizabeth was dead hadn’t eased the pain of her loss.
But perhaps seeing justice done did create what they called closure. Her aunt had known that her daughter’s suffering was over. That her killer was locked away. Actually, he wasn’t locked away anymore. He’d been killed in a prison brawl.
Her aunt had told her that the killer’s death shouldn’t have made anything better for her. But it had. Christian or not, she’d said, it had brought her some resolution. She hoped he’d suffered.
And now...
Now Lara was missing, after leaving a cryptic message.
Maybe she’d gone into deep hiding. But if she had, she’d done it for a reason. And the only way to find Lara was to find out what that reason could be.
Meg sat up, considering the possibilities, trying to sort out where Lara could be. Probably not in Richmond, or at least not at her aunt’s house. But Lara had a small house in Harpers Ferry, left to her by her parents when they’d passed away. She and Lara had often visited during their college years, both in love with hiking and tubing on the river. They hadn’t been in quite a while; she didn’t think Lara had been out there recently, but she’d hired a service to handle maintenance and security, and she even rented it out now and then.
Maybe she was there. It was a direction to pursue, at any rate.
After a minute, Meg rose and walked into the bathroom. Time to get ready for bed.
She liked to shower first thing in the morning. It seemed to start the day right, really wake her up. But since she’d begun training, she’d discovered she needed a night shower, too—in order to be able to sleep.
Tonight, the odor of the morgue seemed to linger on her. She didn’t just want a shower to sleep, she needed one.
She took a long shower, with very hot water and lots of soap and shampoo.
Wrapped in a towel, she got out her toothbrush and toothpaste. The mirror was heavily fogged, and she wiped it with the edge of her big beach towel.
She looked thin, she noted. Thin and haggard. Well, nothing she could do about that right now.
She studiously brushed her teeth, glanced in the mirror again—and froze.
The mirror was misty once more and yet she could see her own face. And another. Behind her.
Lara’s face.
Lara’s mouth worked; her eyes seemed filled with pain. No audible words came to her lips, and seconds later she began to fade away. And yet Meg thought she knew what Lara had tried to say.
Not help me, but find me. Find my remains.
Meg whirled around just in time to see the last vestige of her friend disappear into the soft swirl of fog left by her very hot shower.
* * *
“I met Margaret when she was a child,” Adam was saying to Matt. “The Krewe didn’t exist back then, but local law enforcement in West Virginia called me in. They knew I could find the right people to help us discover the truth. I was also friends with an agent working kidnapping cases for the FBI.” He sat behind his desk, a cup of coffee in front of him, his hands folded on the desk. He raised them as he said, “There was hope that it was a ransom case, that the missing girl would come home. But her little cousin knew. She told me, although she wouldn’t tell anyone else, that she saw Mary Elizabeth sitting at the foot of her bed. She was gone, Meg told me, and she could be found in the cemetery. It changed the case. We found the body before the ransom drop, and because of the forensic evidence at the scene, her killer was easily caught. So I’ve kept tabs on Meg. I was going to wait until she’d graduated and taken a position at the academy and then introduce her to Jackson and the Krewe, but...well, life intrudes and changes everything. Life—and death.”
Matt nodded, well aware of the truth of his words.
He looked out the window onto the beautiful old street. He loved their location in Alexandria, and he was glad the Krewe had left the modern building where they’d once had their offices. There was something about looking out at the old row houses that seemed good for the soul; history had marched through these streets. The houses had been there when the nation struggled for freedom. They’d continued to serve as homes during the bloody conflict of the Civil War. Alexandria was so close to Washington, DC—yet it had been part of the Confederate state of Virginia.
Of course, he loved the Capitol, too. He was no romantic when it came to war, but the history of his nation’s struggle was both powerful and heartbreaking to him. He was fascinated by the life of Abraham Lincoln. He was equally interested in the lives of men like Stonewall Jackson and Robert E. Lee.
When he was young, his parents had purchased an old tavern west of Richmond. In a roundabout way, it had been owned by Thomas Jefferson, who’d purchased the place for a cousin and been repaid over a period of years. Matt had dreamed that he could sneak into the parlor area at night—and find Jefferson sitting by the fireplace.
He never did see Jefferson. He did, however, encounter the spirit of his cousin, Josiah Thompkin. Thompkin had regaled him with tales of famous congressmen, battles, the Underground Railroad and more. Matt’s parents had thought he spent too much time with his books and that he—like many children—had an invisible friend.
One of his great-aunts had known, however, and when his mother had spoken to him about her concerns, Genevieve had winked at him and told him that “imaginary” friends could be the best. They mirrored the soul, she’d said, and furnished the mind with information.
Great-Aunt Genevieve was long gone now, but he always remembered her with a smile. She’d made it to ninety-five, full of laughter and vigor to the end.
She’d assured him she wasn’t coming back. She’d lived a long life—and she knew the light was waiting for her.
“You and Meg have similar pasts,” Adam said, returning Matt’s mind to the present.
Had Meg grown up with imaginary friends, as well? Unlike Meg and him and the rest of the Krewe, Adam’s background was somewhat different. His son, Josh, had been granted the gift—or the curse—of precognition; he’d known what might happen. He’d known what people were thinking. He’d been ill throughout his life, and he’d died young. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason when it came to paranormal ability. Matt felt sad that there were people worldwide who kept their secret, trying not to give themselves away in case the world considered them crazy.
There was a knock at the door. Agent Murray was certainly punctual.
Matt remained by the window, staring out as Adam invited her inside. He turned, curious about the young woman. She could be no more than midtwenties, but she carried herself with a grace and poise that belied her age. Her dark hair was pulled back and she seemed even more attractive than he had realized. Today she was wearing a medium-length business skirt and matching jacket, and he couldn’t help noticing that her legs were wickedly long and well shaped. There was an unselfconsciousness about her, and he sensed that she had no idea of her own appeal.
“Meg, come in. I have a few more of our local Krewe working this. They’ll be getting onto research, credit card trails and the like. I think you and Matt should start at the source. Head over to Congressman Walker’s office. I’ve arranged that he’ll be ready for you at ten,” Adam said.
“She’s dead,” Meg told him.
“You know that?” Adam asked.
Meg nodded, glancing at Matt as if she didn’t want to speak in his presence.
“I know she must be dead, yes.”
“You saw her?” Adam asked.
Meg glanced at Matt again and lowered her head in a nod.
“It’s all right, Meg. You can speak freely. Don’t worry, Matt has friends around the city who only appear to him. I’m just so sorry that we won’t find your friend alive,” he said very softly.
She’d been crying, Matt saw. He felt a tug of sympathy.
It hurt so badly to lose people.
“You’re absolutely sure?” he heard himself say. He didn’t mean to doubt her; he sincerely hoped she’d been wrong. His voice sounded rougher than he’d intended.
She turned to him. “Agent Bosworth,” she said coldly. “I never say that someone is dead unless I believe it to be true.” He could tell he’d offended her. But that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing; anger helped dissipate pain.
“Until we find her, you can’t be certain,” he said, then asked, “You’ve never had a living person in desperate trouble try to reach you?”
“No,” she said, the one word like a cube of ice in the room.
“Did she speak to you, Meg?” Adam asked.
Meg hesitated. “She couldn’t quite manage to speak, but...I think she asked me to find her. And I—I believe she wants us to find her body.”
Matt felt that Meg Murray had no intention of giving his opinions any credence, but he didn’t feel the need to respond. He’d been around for a long time—as an agent and as one who knew the existence of a sixth sense. She’d learn.
The other agents arrived then.
Adam rose to make introductions. Jackson Crow had come in with Angela Hawkins, Will Chan and Katya Sokolov.
“Agent Murray will be joining this office,” Adam said. “This, as you can appreciate, is a difficult time for her. Meg, everyone’s been briefed on the situation with Lara Mayhew and the two murders. Agent Crow is your boss and I never interfere. Okay, I seldom interfere. Agent Hawkins sorts through our many requests and tries to send out the right people. Since we’re near Washington where everything seems a bit unusual, we’re quite busy here. That was a joke—or an attempt at a joke, anyway. Agent Sokolov is a medical examiner as well as an agent. She’ll visit Wong today and inspect the bodies.”
Meg solemnly shook hands with everyone. She asked Will Chan, “What’s your specialty?”
Will smiled. “I was an illusionist,” he told her.
“I see,” Meg said in a pleasant tone that nonetheless relayed her confusion.
Will’s smile grew wider. “My specialty is film, sound, cameras—and now and then, a bit of a performance if necessary. Although occasionally we all have to perform. In any case the team you see here will be working with you on this particular case.”
“Can you play the message your friend left?” Matt asked, not meaning to be churlish, but they weren’t at a getting-to-know-you cocktail party.
“Yes.”
She pulled her phone out of the black leather tote she carried and set it on speaker. They heard a woman’s voice.
One that sounded breathless—and scared.
“Meg, it’s me, Lara. I wanted to let you know I’m going home. Home, as in getting out of DC and heading for Richmond. I’m going as soon as it’s daylight. I’ll talk to you when I can. Love you. Don’t say anything to anyone else, okay? I have to get out of here. Talk soon.”
Meg played the message twice.
Jackson cleared his throat. “She did say she was leaving in the morning.”
“And I wanted to believe it,” Meg said.
There was an awkward silence. Matt wasn’t convinced, but Adam had faith in her conviction.
And they all had faith in Adam.
“So, you see,” Meg said, “something happened during the day or that night that made her want to...run.”
“And meet up with our killer?” Will murmured.
“Or another fate,” Matt replied.
“In other words, you think there might’ve been a different motive to get rid of Lara Mayhew—and she was killed by a different perp?” Angela asked.
“Entirely possible,” Matt said. “But Ian Walker isn’t known for being...”
“Slimy?” Kat supplied.
Matt looked at Meg. “Did she ever suggest that there was anything going on between her and the congressman?”
“No. But... I haven’t spent much time with her since I started at the academy. We talked every other day, but I’ve only actually seen her twice. As far as I knew, Lara adored him, as a father figure. She lost her parents when she was eleven. I think she saw Walker as a fine man, the way she’d seen her dad.”
“Maybe Walker will solve the mystery,” Jackson suggested.
“Doubtful,” Will Chan said.
“And...” Kat began, before hesitating.
“And?” Adam repeated.
“To the rest of the world, the idea that something’s wrong is...mere supposition. She’s a young woman who became disillusioned with politics and left DC.”
“There’s another message,” Adam reminded them.
Meg pressed her phone again. All they heard was a whooshing sound—like the wind—and then a thump.
And the phone went dead.
“I’ll check with her cell phone company,” Angela said. “Meg, I’ll need your phone for the next few hours. We’ll have techs try to decipher those sounds.”
“Of course.”
“You’ll be with Matt if we need to reach you for any reason. We’ll get the recording and return your cell as soon as possible.”
“Whatever it takes,” Meg said.
“And you’re off to see Congressman Walker!” Angela looked from Meg to Matt. “I don’t envy you. Interviewing a politician. I don’t think many of them are capable of telling the truth, even when they’ve got nothing to hide!”
Matt liked Angela. She was down-to-earth, pleasant under the most trying circumstances—and skilled at figuring out past sins that might have emerged in the present. Attractive, in her early thirties, she was light-haired and light-eyed. She was married to Jackson. Matt hadn’t been around when they’d done the deed; they’d slipped quietly away for a small private wedding. In this “special” unit, agents being married to each other was acceptable. Will and Kat were a couple, too.
They all had to work so closely together that Matt felt they were more a family than a workforce. He wondered how their new member was going to fit in.
Of course, when he’d joined, the others had wondered if he’d fit in.
“Your work sounds intriguing,” Meg said.
“It’s different,” Angela agreed. “It’s a million hours a week most of the time. It’s travel when you’re tired of going places. It’s seeing a lot of what can only be described as evil. That would be true whatever position you took after graduation, but then you’ve been through the academy. You know that.”
“Yes,” Meg said. She added a little hesitantly, “I’m grateful to be here. I was going to apply when I was able to. This is all...faster than I expected.”
“Meg is certain that Lara is dead,” Adam said flatly.
There was silence for a minute. Matt realized that Meg was doing a worthy job of hiding her grief. And yet he wasn’t certain that she was right about Lara’s death. He walked over to her. He wasn’t sure why he placed his hands on her shoulders except that he wanted her full attention.
She seemed to draw herself up, stand taller, but didn’t move or back away.
“Meg, are you positive? Maybe you saw her, but she was in your mind, asking for help.”
She still didn’t back away. “I don’t see people who step out of my mind, Agent Bosworth. Do you?”
“Actually, I have. The dead can reach out, as we all know. But sometimes the living can, too, from a distance.”
She slipped away from him and he was almost sorry he’d spoken. She lowered her head. He thought she might have had an expression of hope on her face.
“I haven’t had that experience. I honestly believe that she’s dead.” He asked himself how true that was. He had the impression that she and Lara had often read each other’s minds.
“I’m sorry, Meg,” Jackson said. “Very sorry. Adam, I have some news. We have a match for our first victim. Her name was Cathy Crighton. She worked at the Big Fish down in Georgetown. Her boss assumed she just took off. Apparently, the pay isn’t very high and he has a large employee turnover. Not only that, he considered her a fairly unreliable employee, showing up late and so on. Turns out a friend in Oklahoma, who’d been trying to reach her, reported her as missing. The report took a while to get to us. I’m making inquiries about her last movements.”
“Anything about the girl who was found yesterday?” Adam asked.
“No, not yet,” Jackson answered. “We’ll be cross-referencing all the victims we have on record and missing-persons reports, seeing if we can come up with a common denominator.” Jackson looked over at Matt. “I’ve emailed you all the particulars I have so far.”
Adam turned to Meg. “Make sure you have everyone’s cell phone number.”
“I’ll get started on the digital,” Will said, leaving the room.
Kat was going off to the OCME, while Jackson and Angela left to research Congressman Walker. It was time for Matt to head out with Meg Murray.
“We’ll make a stop at Lara’s apartment first,” he said.
Meg bit her lip, eyes closed. He could only imagine what she was fearing—that they’d enter her friend’s apartment and find her there. Dead.
“It has to be done,” he told her calmly.
“Yes, of course,” she said. “I’ve already been to the apartment, though. I have a key. Lara isn’t there.”
“Wasn’t there,” he pointed out.
“Yes...”
“Chances are you’re right, but we’ll take another look, anyway. I’ve called the landlady. We’ll have her let us in officially—and start fresh. Maybe the landlady will have something useful to say,” Matt added.
“Fine, you two get on that, and then go over to the congressman’s place. We don’t want to lose this first session with him.” Adam paused, smiling at Meg. “Scariest part of the job,” Adam said lightly as they left the office. “Politics! Scary as hell.”
