Stealing Shadows - Hiding In The Shadows Part 10

"Or it could take years."

"That's what they say." He waited out several minutes of silence, then said, 'I don't like it."

"No. Neither do I.

"So?

"So where is she now?"

He swore. "I don't know.

There was a pause, and then, "I told you to check out her apartment last night."

"I did. She wasn't there."

"And?"

"And I got p.i.s.sed."

In all her imaginings, Faith had not thought of murder, and a chill

raised gooseflesh over her body.

"What?" She groped desperately in the darkness of her mind, but there

was absolutely nothing, no memory, no knowledge at all. Nothing but the terrifying possibility that she had done something horrible.

Bishop continued to speak as if reciting items on a list. "A little over

two years ago, you were living in Seattle with your mother and youngersister. Your sister was still in high school, your mother worked in alibrary, and you worked as a receptionist at a construction companyduring the day and waited tables at night." He paused. "I don't have allthe details, and I won't until I go up to Quantico and get access to therecords. But the facts are simple."

"What facts?" she asked unsteadily.

There might have been a softening of Bishop's steely gaze, but it was

difficult to tell. "I'm sorry. Your mother and sister were murdered, and the house was burned to the ground."

Faith felt shock, but it was distant, impersonal, little more than

dismay. She could not conjure even a fleeting image of this mother orsister, and the grief that should still have been strong in her wastotally absent.

It was Kane who asked quietly, "Who was responsible?"

"The case is still open, that's all I can tell you."

Bishop looked at his friend. "And the file is restricted, maybe because

it's an ongoing Bureau investigation, something like that."

"Could Faith be a protected witness?"

"Not likely. If that were the case, I would have been warned off the

moment I tried to access her file."

She cleared her throat. "Could I-was I a suspect?

"According to the Seattle P D., which I called after running into thatrestricted file, you had an alibi. You were waiting tables in a busyrestaurant, in full view of dozens of people, when the murders werecommitted and the house burned. But the police refused to tell meanything else. It seems their file is off-limits as well."

Kane looked at Faith. "So two years ago, the people closest to you weremurdered. No arrests, no convictions. A few months later, you came toAtlanta and started over."

Faith tried to think. "Which would explain the lack of some things in myapartment. Photographs, old clothing. If the house I lived in burned tothe ground, I could have lost everything."

Kane frowned at Bishop. "My imagination is probably working overtimetrying to figure out how two unsolved murders in Seattle could connectto a traffic accident and a disappearance here 'in Atlanta two yearslater. But ... here's Faith. One very real connections "Until we havethe details," Bishop said, "there's no way to know if there's any otherconnection."

"And we get the details only if you go to Quantico.

"We have a chance of getting them if I go to Quantico. My clearancemight not be high enough, depending on why the file was restricted."

"Weren't you going to have to go back tomorrow anyway? Something aboutthis new unit of yours?"

"I don't have much choice, I'm afraid. And I don't know when I'll beable to get back." He paused. "If I thought there was anything I coulddo here that you couldn't do just as well or better-"

"You wouldn't leave. I know that."

Bishop went to pour himself some coffee, and Faith was glad theirattention had shifted away from her. She needed time to try to cope withthe shock of knowing her family had been murdered.

"I'm not too crazy about leaving here just now," Bishop said. "With nosolid evidence surfacing, the search for Dinah was going along prettymuch according to standard operating procedure, with very littleprogress and no real surprises." He looked at Faith. "And then you cameout of a coma and walked out of that hospital."

Kane frowned again. "Meaning?"

"Meaning the balance has been upset, the status quo disturbed. ifanybody is paying attention, now would be the time I'd expect them tomake a move."

Faith was puzzled. "You mean ... whoever has ir Dinah would have tochange the' plans because of me?"

"If you figure into this at all-yes. Think about it. If you are or werea threat to someone, that coma kept you safely out of the picture. Thefact that you're up and about again has to give them pause. Even if theyfind out that your memory is gone, chances are they won't feel secureenough to just ignore you. Not for long, at any rate."

"My apartment was probably searched," Faith said slowly. "Maybe theyfound whatever it is they were looking for." Then a sudden memory madeher look at Kane. "Does Dinah have a laptop?"

"Yes. Her briefcase was missing when her jeep was found abandoned nearher office, though, and she always carries the laptop in it." Faithhesitated. "According to what she told the lawyer, she also had mylaptop. Did you ever see it?"

Kane didn't have to think long. "No. I mean, I never pay particularattention when she uses it, so I suppose it could have been yours. But Inever saw two of them. And we didn't find one in her apartment when wewent through the place after she disappeared. No disks either."

Bishop said to Faith, "I don't suppose you have any idea of what was onyours?"

"No. All I know is that I hadn't had it long before the accident."

"Another dead end." Kane sighed. "Last night I thought we had a lead,but now it looks even more murky than before."

"I don't believe in coincidence," Bishop said.

"Somewhere in all this there's a single thread, one fact or occurrencethat ties everything together and makes sense of all of it."

"Even the murders of my mother and sister? Faith asked.

"That might have been the beginning of it," he answered. "Everythingthat's happened since could date back to two people being murdered inSeattle two years ago. Or they might turn out to be-pardon theexpression-incidental to everything else, important in this instanceonly because they were the catalyst that brought you to Atlanta."

Faith was beginning to get a headache. She wondered how a mind so emptyof anything useful could feel so crowded with questions and facts.

"First things first," Kane said, watching her. "We need to get you toyour apartment so you can pack a bag."

Bishop opened his mouth to say something, then apparently thought betterof it, and said instead, "It's Sunday, so there won't be much traffic."

Faith occupied herself with trying to figure out what was on Bishop'smind, an exercise which at least kept her thoughts focused on somethingspecific during the trip to her apartment. The answer didn't occur toher until they got out of Kane's car at her budding and she saw theagent and Kane look around them with an attention that was far fromcasual.

Somebody could be watching this place. That's what he thinks. Maybe mycab last night was impossible to follow in Sat.u.r.day-evening traffic, sothey might not know where I went. There might have been o connectionbetween me and Kane until today.

Have I put him in danger by going to him, by being with him? Was I theone who put Dinah in danger?

They went into the building and up to Faith's apartment, meeting no one along the way. The door was closed, but Faith was suddenly even moreuneasy than she had been. It was an actual physical sensation, as ifsomething cold had brushed against her skin.

"What?" Kane asked, reading her body language.

"I-Its nothing. Nothing I can explain." She dug into her shoulder bagand produced the door key.

Kane took it from her. "Then it's probably best if we're careful. Youwait out here."

Faith stepped to the side of the door, and watched as the two menunlocked and opened it very cautiously and slipped inside the apartment.She was conscious of her heart pounding, of a sick queasiness sherecognized as fear, and silently called herself a coward. It did no goodto remind herself that she had every right to be frightened, adrift in alife she didn't remember, a life that held the potential of danger.

It seemed hours before Kane reappeared in the door- way. "It's clear,"he said. "But someone's been here."

'With that warning, Faith braced herself for the chaos waiting insideher apartment.

This time, the search had been far more vicious and destructive. Sofacushions were cut open, the stuffing bulging half out of them. Printswere torn off the walls and from their frames, the gla.s.s broken.

Shelves were pulled away from the walls, tables over- turned. In thekitchen, the cabinet doors were open, the counters and sink litteredwith boxes and cans, and both the refrigerator and the freezer had beensearched. In the bedroom, her clothing lay heaped on the floor, alongWith the bedding. The mattress had been slashed open.

Faith stood looking at the mess, her skin crawling with the sensation ofhaving been violated.

"I should call the police, she said.

Kane and Bishop exchanged glances, then Kane Said, "I have a friend inthe department. Let me call him. I think we'll be better off if we canavoid a media circus."

When Faith looked at him, he added, 'So far, there's no publicconnection between you and me, or even you and Dinah. I say we keep itthat way as long as possible."

Faith agreed, even as she asked herself if she was deferring to Kanebecause he was right, or because it was easier to let him make thedecisions.

I don't even know that about myself Not even that.

Kane's police detective friend was Guy Richardson, a tall, beefy manwith thinning brown hair and deceptively mild brown eyes. He arrivedwith a disinterested police photographer who took pictures of theapartment, spoke briefly and quietly to Kane-filling him - in on thelack of progress in the search for Dinah, perhaps?-and then lookedaround the place thoroughly before asking Faith if she knew for sure if anything had been taken.

Faith had already thought about that and was able to offer an answer.

"As far as I can tell, nothing that was here when I left yesterdayevening is missing."

They were sitting at the small kitchen table, and her hands were tightlyclasped before her.

"Kane explained about the amnesia. So you have no idea why yourapartment was searched twice in the last few weeks?"

"No.

"I looked at the report of the previous break- in. Your neighbors werequestioned, but no one saw a stranger hanging around or heard anythingsuspicious. There was no sign of forced entry, but an open window wasfound." He paused.

"This time, there was no open window and the lock was picked. Whichtells me a pro got in here, and he did it without leaving much evidence.

I can dust for prints, but I'd bet my pension he wore gloves."

There didn't seem to be anything to say, so Faith remained silent, hergaze flickering from her clasped hands to the men around the table.

Kane said, "a.s.suming he didn't find what he was looking for, do youthink he'll be back?"

"The man is very serious about his work," Richardson said." "Whatever hewants is important, either because he was hired to find it or because hewants it badly himself. My guess is that he won't stop looking."

"Then Faith isn't safe here."

Richardson agreed. "I'd advise her to stay some- where else until we getthis figured out."

Faith couldn't help wondering if Kane had asked his friend to make thatstatement-then chided her- self for being so suspicious. Still, she hadto protest.