Unseen. Part 14

He moved a stack from her seat. "Did you get your daily fry fix?"

She didn't give him the satisfaction of a response.

He slid the Ipad off the dashboard. "I just got confirmation that Gary Carter was in Texas during the time of the third murder. That puts him on the ground at two separate crime scenes."

"That's enough to get a warrant."

"We're already working on it. Oh. And get this. Our mild-mannered person of interest works at the local women's clinic."

That turned Angela's head. "You're kidding."

"He's an administrator, and not just for the Sunbury site, he travels around the country to other clinics which means..."

"He has access to records at other clinics."

"Exactly."

"Where is he right now?"

"MIA. We have an unmarked car sitting in front of his apartment building, but he hasn't been home. You think we should search the residence?"

"No. Not yet. If he does come home, we don't want to spook him. We'll wait."

"So what's the play?"

"Put another team on surveillance at the clinic. In the meantime, let's keep digging on this guy. I want to know who his friends are, where he hangs out, and what his favorite ice cream flavor is. When he does pop his head up, I want to be ready to take him down and keep him down, for a very long time."

Chapter 22.

Jake stood in the middle of the hallway of his apartment building, unable to take his eyes off the mysterious child named Aiyana. She scratched her invisible tablet with her invisible pencil and rubbed at it with her invisible fingers, intently working on a drawing no one would ever see. No one-except Jake.

Where did she come from? And why was he the only one who could see her? Was she a ghost? Had she walked these very halls in years past? Perhaps she'd been the victim of a fatal accident and was now forced to roam about her old schoolhouse with her drawing tablet-a stark reminder of the art career she would have had if her life had not been tragically cut short. If that were the case, wouldn't she be wearing clothes from that era? Jake studied her. Blue sweater, pink plaid vest, wrinkled blue pants-and blue flowered canvas top sneakers. Hardly the style of a child from the past. Besides, this used to be a high school, and she was too young for that. So, if she wasn't a ghost haunting the old school house, then-what was she?

There was only one way to find out.

Jake approached cautiously, knowing now that Aiyana was not simply a little girl with a drawing pad, but something beyond his understanding, and possibly even dangerous.

At five feet he came to a stop.

She noticed him. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You don't know?" he said.

A puzzled expression creased her forehead and tightened her brows. "Why would I know?"

"Because you're one of them."

"One of who?"

"The ghost-children."

"What's a ghost-children?"

He studied her, looking for any sign of deception. There didn't appear to be any. "You really don't know what I'm talking about, do you?"

She shook her head.

"Where are you from?" he said.

"I don't know, I can't remember."

"Where do you live?"

"Here," she said, "at least, I think so. It is all kind of fuzzy."

"Do you have a message for me-something you're supposed to tell me? Something about Gabe?"

"No." She frowned. "Not that I can remember. Who's Gabe?" She noticed the frustrated look on Jake's face. "I'm sorry I'm not more helpful."

"If you're not here to help me, then why are you here? And why am I the only one who can see you?"

"You're the only one who can see me?" she blurted.

"You don't know that?"

"Oh, wait. I do know-now." She c.o.c.ked her head as if listening, or considering an idea. "Oh, that makes sense."

"What makes sense?"

"Why no one can see me but you."

"And that would be because..."

"I'm not really here."

Her words were like a javelin in his chest. He had feared the possibility that these hallucinations where all in his head, but to hear her confirm it with her own lips sent currents of anxiety through him.

"You're-not here."

"No. I'm in your head."

The neighbor's doork.n.o.b rattled, and Jake could hear talking on the other side. He looked around frantically, twisted, and started walking toward the elevator as though that was what he'd been doing all along. He didn't want to go to his door with the possibility of having to open it and alert Jenna to the fact that he was in the hall talking to a figment of his imagination. And he didn't want to have to explain to his neighbors why he enjoyed standing alone in the hall talking to himself. As his new neighbors entered the hallway behind him, he took a quick right toward the East wing and glanced back as they reached the elevator. The man was back to, but his pregnant wife stood sideways, facing the elevator. Their son, who appeared to be around four, was keeping himself busy with two action figures in his hands.

When the elevator dinged, Jake's mind flashed back to the pregnant woman he had seen earlier at the elevator in the east wing, to his coworker Debbie at Data Tech, and to the one he'd seen checking her mail that morning. He couldn't remember seeing a pregnant woman at all in the past year-except Debbie once or twice-but now in one day he had seen four. That was strange, to say the least-but completely on par for the bizarre day he was having.

His neighbors got on the elevator, and the door closed. Jake headed back up the hall, half expecting Aiyana to be gone. But she wasn't. Part of him was terribly unrelieved to see her.

She looked at him with innocent eyes. "Are you okay?"

"No," he said walking toward her. "I'm not okay with seeing hallucinations of children and having to hide from the world that I have completely lost my mind. I have a nephew in real danger, and I need answers. What's happening to me?!"

"I don't know," she said meekly.

"But you know something. You have to know something. You can't just not know anything." He stared at her. "You know your name. How do you know your name?"

"I don't know. I just do."

"How do you know there are seasons for everything under heaven?"

"Because there are."

"But who told you?!" His voice filled the hallway.

"Oh," she said, "that I can't tell you."

"See! You do know things!" His eyes tilted downward to the tablet in her lap, and adrenaline surged in his chest. On the page was the most incredible image he had ever seen. In startlingly detail she had drawn an angel bursting through a barrier of half liquid and half fire. In his arms was a baby.

What made Jake pause in awe wasn't that she had drawn an angel, it was what the angel looked like. It was not comparable to any angel image he had ever seen. The only similarity was that her angel had wings-and even those had an otherworldly quality. Jake pointed. For a moment, he couldn't speak. "Wh- what is that?"

"It's my drawing."

"I thought you were drawing a bird," he said.

She looked surprised. "No. It's an angel. I've never seen a bird."

Never seen a bird? But she'd seen an angel? Jake's brain spun in his head. What on earth...?

But before he could formulate another question, the door to his apartment opened, and Jenna stood in the doorway. Her eyes bounced from him to the elevator down the hall and back. "Why are you screaming in our hallway, Jake?"

He swallowed. "Was I screaming?"

"Yeah. I could hear you all the way in the bedroom."

Aiyana gripped her tablet to her chest. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get you in trouble."

He could feel the nervous breakdown looming over him like the grim reaper, its dark suffocating presence sliding over him like the creeping shadow of a setting sun. He had no answer to give her. Reality was shattering and hope was retreating. His plan of rescuing his nephew had evaporated with his sanity, and now he was expected to explain the unfathomable reason why he was standing in his hallway screaming at thin air.

Emotion began to surge from deep within, and his eyes began to sting. He fought it back with anger. There was no time for a pity party, no time to explore his fears of the unknown or his feelings of helplessness.

Jenna came to him, her eyes searching. "Are you okay?"

"No," he said. "I'm not okay."

She slid her arms under his and hugged him. "I'm here, Jake. You're not alone in this."

He gripped her and let her warmth fill him. The fragrance of her hair and the perfect fit of her body reminded him that they were made for each other, like two pieces in a puzzle. He wasn't alone in this crazy mess. There was so much comfort in her embrace that he felt sure she would stand by him even if she did find out he was crazy as a loon-but he wasn't ready to test that theory.

"Let's go inside," she said, pulling free and taking his hand.

He looked at Aiyana's innocent eyes silently watching them. They seemed to be pleading with him to keep her secret. Not for her sake, but for his. He could see the intense apology on her sweet face. She didn't want to see him hurt any more.

"Come on," said Jenna, tugging on his wrist. "Let's go sit on the couch. We don't have to talk. I'll just sit with you while you work out whatever's going on in your head."

He let her guide him through the door, watching for one last glimpse of Aiyana. The apartment door sealed like the door to a vault-a vault containing all the secrets of the universe, if only he could get Aiyana to remember them.

Chapter 23.

Jenna led Jake to the couch and he sank into it. She turned on some soft music. "Do you want some tea, you know, to calm your nerves?"

"I don't think there is any way of that happening, but sure, if you're going to make some anyway."

He sat with his thoughts while Jenna worked in the kitchen. He wanted to find an excuse to get back out into the hallway to talk to Aiyana, but he couldn't think of anything reasonable. There was a limit to how much strange behavior he was going to get away with for one day. So instead, he sat stoically, running down an imaginary list of the day's events. There had to be a connection.

After a few minutes, Jenna returned with the tea and sat across from him on the couch.

"I'm sorry if I've been emotional, I mean, even more emotional than normal lately," she said, sipping her tea.

They shared a smile.

Her intense emotional fragility was sometimes frustrating to deal with, but most of the time it was something they both found humor in. Like the time he had bought her a kitten, and she couldn't even go near the cardboard box for over an hour. She had wanted a kitten her whole life, but her mother was allergic to them.

When she realized what was in the box all she could do was lay on the couch and cry. They both knew why she was crying, but he had happily prodded her to give a reason. He asked her if she was sad that he had brought a iddy bitty kitty home, and her response had more in common with a squeak than a word. He loved how her voice rose up when she said no, and how through the tears he could see a look of apology on her face. She realized how silly she looked, but she couldn't help it. She was a woman of deep connection to all things. It was one of the qualities he loved most about her.

Jake had a hard time caring about anything. He had suffered too many broken relationships growing up. Even his love for Gabe was dull compared to Jenna's love for that kitten. She had the unique ability to give herself entirely to love, with no fear of the consequence. To Jenna, loving deeply was worth the chance of hurting deeply, and, in a way, Jake envied her.

"More people should care about things as fully as you do, Jen."

She squeezed her bare toes down on his leg. It was her non-verbal way of saying thank you.

"Well," she said, "in the spirit of caring about others, how are you holding up? Do you want to talk about it?"

He rolled the question around in his head. Did he want to talk about it? If by it she meant the psychotic hallucinations he was having, the answer to that was most a.s.suredly, NO. He wasn't interested in convincing his girlfriend that he belonged in a rubber room with padded furniture.

If she meant the situation with Gabe and the gnawing helplessness he felt leaving the investigation in the hands of the FBI, then that was a solid no as well. He didn't want to explore his feelings on the matter. It would just churn up a cloud of self-condemnation that was best left ignored.

He rubbed her foot. "I don't know what to say about all this. I just can't believe it's happening."