‘What was it of?’ Trip asked in a way that said he already knew.
‘Celtic cross in flames. He said that Mike had taken him out drinking for his eighteenth birthday and when he woke the next morning, he had the tattoo. He didn’t know it was white supremacist until his father saw it and threw a fit. Wyatt didn’t want his application to the academy to be rejected so he had it removed. That’s what he told me, anyway. I only saw the tat once and I never knew it scarred. I never thought about how a tattoo would be removed. I didn’t even consider he’d have a scar. Hell, I was still in high school and he’d gone off to the academy. I never saw him without a shirt on after he’d graduated high school because we weren’t playing ball any longer. He always wore a T-shirt in the precinct locker room.’ He closed his eyes. ‘Wyatt raped Mallory.’ Saying it out loud didn’t make it easier to accept. ‘Wyatt. Holy God.’
Deacon gripped his shoulder. ‘And we’ll make him pay for that, don’t worry.’
‘He was afraid she could ID his scar,’ Trip said. ‘And that you could, as well. That must be why you are both targets.’
Adam felt curiously detached. ‘I didn’t even remember he had one. That was twenty years ago.’
‘Sounds like Wyatt’s spent more time thinking about you than you have him,’ Trip said mildly. ‘All that shit coming out of his father’s mouth was just that – shit. You know this, right?’
‘Yeah. Still stings.’
‘I’ll bet,’ Trip grunted. ‘Did you have anyone in your life who was nice to you?’
Adam drew a breath because Deacon was still gripping his shoulder. ‘Yeah. My mom, when she could be. And Deacon, Dani, and Greg, all of the time.’ He patted Deacon’s hand awkwardly. ‘You can let go now, D. I’m not gonna bolt.’
‘Wasn’t sure,’ Deacon said, dropping his hand. ‘You look like you might.’
‘It’s a lot to take in. And I’m feeling . . . raw,’ he confessed. ‘I can’t believe anyone believed I thought I was superior to anyone. Well, to criminals, sure, but to my family?’
‘You are, you know,’ Deacon said. ‘You could have ended up a mean drunk like your dad, but you’re a nice, recovering drunk.’
Adam laughed, which he knew was Deacon’s intent. ‘You asshole.’
Deacon grinned. ‘Yeah, well, we all have our special gifts. Come on.’
‘Where are we going?’ Adam asked.
‘Upstairs to strategize.’ Deacon held up the bagged coffee cup. ‘I’ll catch up with you in the briefing room after I drop this sample off at the lab.’
Cincinnati, Ohio,
Monday 21 December, 10.45 A.M.
‘Merry, wake up.’
Diesel’s voice startled Meredith out of the doze she’d fallen into as she’d watched snow falling outside the waiting room window. She blinked awake, finding Diesel grinning.
‘What?’ she asked, touching her mouth, hoping she hadn’t been drooling.
‘You snore.’
‘I do not!’
His eyes twinkled at her. ‘Yes, you do and it’s cute. Ask Adam. He’ll tell you.’
She gave him a glare that held no heat. ‘Did you wake me up to make fun of me?’
‘No. I finally broke into Bethany Row’s personal email.’
‘Just now?’
‘About a half-hour ago.’
‘Why didn’t you wake me up?’
‘Because I wanted to find evidence and you needed to sleep.’
She smiled at him. ‘Thank you.’ He was a sweet man. For the hundredth time she wondered what Dani Novak was waiting for. Diesel clearly was interested, but Dani didn’t seem to be. Which wasn’t important now. ‘What did you find?’
‘Well, several messages from foster parents discussing perks, payments for her looking the other way. Some of the messages come out and say what they’ll pay her or what they’ll do for her because she’s discounted a child’s complaint. I imagine that’s what’s being used in the investigation against her. But I went back farther. She got an email from her bank six months ago saying that ten grand had been wired into her account.’
Meredith stared. ‘Ten thousand dollars? From whom?’
‘This is the interesting part. The email says the account it was wired from is the same account that Broderick Voss was paying into.’
Her eyes widened. ‘That’s amazing.’ Then she realized what they had and she groaned. ‘And of course we can’t talk about it or tell the cops about it because you hacked to learn about it.’
‘Which poisons the tree and makes anything the cops learn inadmissible,’ he said with a disgusted sigh. ‘I like it better when I’m not working with cops. I do what I want with what I find.’
She nodded glumly. ‘The Fourth Amendment’s a pain in the ass.’
Diesel snorted. ‘I’m sure your cop can figure out how to use this info just fine. He can ask the Indy cops for the file on the investigation and this email will pop up. He won’t get into any trouble.’
She smiled. My cop. He is. Mine. Diesel’s expression softened and she tilted her head, studying him. ‘What?’
‘Your face. You look happy.’ He shrugged uncomfortably. ‘You deserve to be.’
Her eyes stung. Again. ‘You keep making me cry.’ She pushed away from the table and was searching the waiting room for a box of tissues when her cell phone rang.
‘You should answer that,’ Diesel said. ‘It’s an Indy area code.’
She hurried back to glance at her screen. ‘It’s the detective.’ She hit ACCEPT. ‘Hello? This is Meredith Fallon.’
‘Good morning, Dr Fallon. This is Detective Santos, Indianapolis PD. I was told by my boss to stop avoiding your calls.’
‘Thank you,’ she said with a frown. ‘That’s very polite of you.’
He huffed a laugh. ‘I suppose I deserve that. But I haven’t been totally ignoring you. I had to go hunting through my personal notes, and given I can’t read my own handwriting, that took some time. But I have something for you.’
Cincinnati, Ohio,
Monday 21 December, 10.50 A.M.
Adam and Trip found Scarlett and Nash waiting in the briefing room. Nash was standing at the whiteboard again, once again staring at the photos of Paula and Tiffany.
Adam joined him there and stood silently for a moment. ‘I’m sorry, Nash,’ he murmured. ‘I didn’t want to even wonder if you were involved, but I had to.’
Nash angled him a wry smile. ‘Hey, it’s okay. I might have thought the same in your place.’ He returned his gaze to the photos. ‘Do you think he had Paula killed? Wyatt?’
‘I think it’s possible. And that hurts,’ Adam confessed. ‘So damn much.’
‘I know,’ Nash said. ‘It hurts me and he wasn’t my childhood friend. I just can’t get over it in my head. How he stood next to us and watched her die.’
‘I know. But, looking back, I’m seeing that Wyatt wasn’t really the friend I thought he was. I was only eleven when I met him. I’m remembering a lot of the “pranks” and “teasing” he’d do – stuff that wasn’t funny, but I heard a helluva lot worse from my own father, so it didn’t register.’
‘He also didn’t want you to know,’ Trip said from behind them. ‘Sociopaths are really good at hiding their true nature. Otherwise we’d catch a lot more of them.’
Adam sighed. ‘Yeah, I know that. At least some things make sense. Whoever had been hiding Paula knew some sign language. So does Wyatt.’
Nash shook his head. ‘But years? He held her for years, Adam.’
Adam closed his eyes, unable to look at the photo of Paula’s suffering any longer. ‘I know. We know he was . . . attracted to Mallory at thirteen and was willing to risk being found out to rape her. Paula wasn’t through puberty yet. She was only eleven.’ And he’d kept her for years. ‘He has a little girl, Nash. She’s only seven.’
Nash made a pained noise. ‘God, I hope he hasn’t touched her.’
Adam wanted to be sick, but he gritted his teeth and forced his stomach to settle. ‘Yeah. Hopefully we can save Ariel from what the others went through.’