UNSEEN (23 page)

"
My, ah, sister had a really bad experience in room A," she lied, "and I'm already so nervous, would it be okay to use another?"

"
I'm sorry to hear about your sister. We have another room down the hall if you'd prefer."

"
I would appreciate that so much. I'm sorry to be a pain."

"
Oh, you're no pain," she said. "Follow me. We'll take you down to exam room B."

Holly didn't have to fake her emotions; she was relieved to be going to the right room, and relieved that the nurse was so eager to please. They continued down the hall and to the right, then halfway down the next.

"
Here we are," said the nurse. She went right into the exam room. Holly studied the foreboding door across the hall—the door she had been tasked to infiltrate. In its center was a black nameplate with white letters. The name on the plate made her heart squeeze in her chest. Gary Carter. Her eyes widened. Was he the killer? If he was, then why would he send a bomb to his own office? And if he wasn’t... If he wasn’t, then he was at least connected to him in some way? Her throat constricted. Was this a trap? Had she been lured here for something else?

Without realizing it, Holly stepped too near the office door and the device in her purse made the lock beep. Holly leaped back toward the opposite wall. She stood motionless. Did the nurse hear the beep? Holly saw a vision of the nurse dragging her across the hall to make the door beep again, but she forced it from her mind and stepped into the doorway of examination room B.

The nurse stood with her back to Holly. "Come in and have a seat." She flipped through the papers on her clipboard. Either the noise of the papers had covered the sound of the beep, or the nurse was so used to hearing it, she’d tuned it out. Whatever the reason, Holly was relieved.

She sat down on the sterile exam bed; her body took on a rigidity as the tactile feel and sound of the paper brought the haunting memory of her last visit to the surface. It was the single most traumatic moment of her life. She remembered sitting there like a wounded animal, frightened and alone—hoping for someone to remove from her body the object of her suffering, and yet feeling strangely protective of it.

"
All right, Holly,” the nurse said in a friendly voice, "what is your full name and date of birth?”

Holly cleared her throat. "Holly Anne Paris. June 27, 1992.”

"
Very good, very good.” She flipped a page. "Our records say you've been here before,"

"
Yes," she said, "about six years ago." Her voice quivered.

"
There is nothing to be nervous about. This is just a routine checkup."

"
Okay," she said, gripping her purse harder than she should have.

"
Do you want me to take that and put it somewhere safe till you're done?" she said, cheerfully, holding out her hand.

"
No thanks..." Holly gripped it harder, and didn't offer a reason, because she didn't have one to give.

The nurse let her hand hover for a moment, then withdrew it and swiveled back to her paperwork. "Everything looks good."

Holly could hardly breathe, and her ribs had started a periodic shiver which was getting harder to conceal.

The office chair squeaked. "Here," said the nurse holding out a johnny. "Put this on and when you’re ready, open the door, okay?"

Holly took the folded cloth and set it on her lap.

The nurse gave a friendly smile. "See you in a few minutes."

Holly sat shaking. It wasn't too late to call it off. She could just get up and walk out. And there was no way she would submit herself to a doctor's exam. She hated those exams under normal circumstances. But to allow herself to be probed by a doctor in such a vulnerable manner at the request of this freak was unimaginable. It would be as if the serial killer himself were the examiner.

Her anger had a dampening effect on her fear, and she squeezed out every bit of it she could. She took the plastic medical gloves from her purse and slid them over her trembling fingers, then placed the johnny on the papered bed and peeked out the door. There were people talking, but the sound was distant and muffled. She peeked out further. No one was up the hall. No one was down the hall. This was it. All she had to do was hurl herself to the door and push her way through.

She felt like a diver standing on a high cliff, contemplating whether to obey her fear or rise to the challenge. She closed her eyes and pushed everything away. Sometimes rising to the occasion was a simple matter of disregarding the consequences, and sadly, that was a skill Holly had almost perfected.

She launched herself across the hall, listened for the beep, and pushed through into the dark office beyond.

Chapter 32

Jake sat on the front steps of The Schoolhouse with his head in his hands and his fingers clutching chunks of his curly brown hair. The stress of the last twenty-four hours had finally caught up with him, and had struck with a vengeance. Every time he felt he was making progress, the solution would dance away, mocking him as it went. If these children had some kind of connection to God and angels, then why were they taunting him with mysteries? Why not come out and say what they’d been sent to tell him? Why not show him what he was supposed to do? Was he doing something wrong? Was he chasing the wrong child?

No. She was the right one, somehow he felt sure of it. Clearly Aiyana wasn't the one with the answers, but maybe she could lead him to the answers? Her mother said she was going to the hospital...

Jake looked up.

What better place to find these supernatural children than at the maternity ward? He stood. If these children had a connection to something beyond this world, and if this ability to see and talk to them had been given to him to save Gabe, then that was where he needed to be.

But first he needed to check in with Dan to make sure he hadn't missed anything. He pulled his phone out and pressed Dan's number onto the pad.

"
Heylo?" said Dan.

"
Hey, Dan. Any news on Gabe?"

"
Not yet, bud. I'm sorry."

"
How’s Holly doing?"

"
Honestly, Jake, I don't know. She’s acting even weirder today. Maybe it’s lack of sleep. I don't know."

"
What do you mean weirder?"

"
Well, yesterday all she could think about was finding information on the serial killer and figuring out which one of her friends could be involved. She was an emotional wreck. Then it was like a switch went off and she just stopped. I thought maybe she was just exhausted, you know, from the stress of it all, but today was the same. She hasn't mentioned looking for Gabe at all."

"
Maybe she's burnt out."

"
If my kid was missing I'd be knocking down every door in the city."

"
Well there’s only so much she can do without a solid lead. That's where I'm at with this whole thing. I can't do a better job than the FBI, so I'm doing the only thing I can by trying to find out if these ghosts are here to help. It’s absolutely crazy, but I feel like they’re my only chance to make a difference. Holly doesn't have any weird ghost-children to chase, so maybe she's just shutting down because she doesn't have anything to occupy her mind. The stress is probably getting to her."

"
Yeah, that makes sense."

"
So, what is she doing now? Resting?"

"
No. She had an appointment and she brought me along. That was kinda why I mentioned the whole thing about her not thinking about Gabe. I think it’s weird that she would go to an appointment, you know, while all this is going on. But I guess it makes sense. She said it was important, and maybe she's trying to keep her mind off of Gabe by staying busy."

"
What kind of appointment is it?"

"
Apparently some kind of screening. She says her doctor thinks it’s probably nothing, but he wanted to check her for something. She didn't say what."

"
Okay, well, let me know if you need me and I'll come right over."

"
Where are you now? Have you figured out who these kids are yet?"

"
I’m at my place. The little girl, Aiyana, revealed some interesting things. Whatever they are, they have some kind of contact with angels and other supernatural stuff. I'm hoping that means they can find things out, like, where the killer is holding Gabe."

"
That rocks, man. I wonder if you're the first person in history to be a ghost whisperer?"

"
I don't know, but I can't wait till whatever this thing is passes and I can go back to being normal again."

"
I'd book myself on the talk show circuit and make a million dollars."

He let out a wry laugh. "I’d give a million dollars to have my sanity back."

"
Is it that bad?"

"
Worse."

"
Okay," Dan’s tone changed. "So what are you doing now?"

"
I'm going to look for more children to see if I can get my last few questions answered. Until Holly finds something I can help with, or the FBI discovers something new, it's all I can think of."

"
See if you can get next week's lottery numbers."

Jake groaned. "Yeah, I'll put that right up on the top of my list, Dan."

"
Sorry."

"
Call me if anything develops."

"
I will, man."

"
All right. Keep an eye on Holly, don't let her do anything suicidal."

"
We-ll, Jake. If she's going to kill anyone, I'm pretty sure it will be me."

Chapter 33

Angela Grant followed the agents from the SBI over to the Doris Boardman Clinic. They’d offered to take care of it themselves, but she wanted to keep her standing as point on this case, so she respectfully declined. Interagency cooperation and matters of jurisdiction were her least favorite part of the job, especially since she was a woman. She constantly had to work harder and fiercer in order to earn the respect of the agents around her. There was no room for mistakes.

She got out of the car with Perez and met the two men from the surveillance team and the SBI officers on the sidewalk. "What’s the situation?"

Agent Blake, from the surveillance team, fielded the question. "There’s been no sign of the suspect and no suspicious activity in the parking lot."

She gave a reserved nod and started up the path toward the clinic.

"
There is one thing I think you'll find interesting, though," he added.

She paused. "Yes?” There was a twinge of irritation in her voice. "And what would that be, Agent Blake?" She wasn't a fan of surprises. If there was information to be relayed, she preferred a direct laundry list.

"
Holly Paris showed up just before nine. She is currently on the premises."

First Jake Paris showed up at Carter's home, now his sister was at Carter's work. Was there a connection? "Do we know why Miss Paris is at the clinic?"

Blake stepped up to her and leaned in. "The women's center played the client confidentiality card, but you might want to ask the young man in the rust bucket what he knows." He looked in the direction of the vehicle. "He showed up with her; he’s been in the car waiting."

Angela looked toward the rusted white Sunbird, but there was no one visible inside the car. Her eyes rose up to meet Blake's. He stood a foot taller than her, but she equalized the size difference by giving him a look of boredom to communicate her lack of interest in playing his game.