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
