Unseen. Part 19

"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 pa.s.ses 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.

Agent Blake lifted his chin. "Oh, he's in there."

Angela strolled over to the car and looked down into the pa.s.senger's seat. Its occupant was curled down over the stick shift with his back to her, but she recognized his clothing. It was the young man who'd come to Holly's apartment with Jake Paris. Angela rapped on the side of the car.

Dan flew up to a sitting position. "Oh, hey. I didn't see you there. I was looking for change, you know, for the poor."

"You're Jake's friend, right?"

He looked up sheepishly. "Yes?"

"Did you come with Holly Paris?"

"Yeah. She has an appointment."

"And you're just innocently waiting for her, doubled over in the front seat, hiding from the authorities?"

"Well when you put it like THAT it sounds suspicious."

"It is suspicious." She groped her memory for his name. "Dan, is it?"

"Yeah."

"Did Holly tell you why she's here, Dan?"

"I told you."

"Did she have a weapon on her?"

"No, not that I know of. Why would she?"

"How was she acting? Was she in an agitated state?"

"That's the only state she's ever in. Truth be told, I think she is the governor of that state."

Angela maintained a neutral expression. "Did she leave you any instructions?"

"Yeah, wait in the car and don't say anything that would indict her with the federal government. I said I'm all over that first one, but you might be in trouble if they start sliding bamboo shoots under my fingernails. I'm delicate."

"You do realize it's a crime to mislead a federal officer?"

"I'm being straight with you. I don't know anything. She's here for an appointment, and I'm waiting for her. When I saw you guys, I don't know-I guess I got weirded out."

"And why is that? Would it have anything to do with the fact that her appointment is at the workplace of a suspected serial killer-a man she may believe is holding her son with the intention of killing him?"

Dan's jaw dropped. It was obvious he was unaware of the connection. "Is it-Amber's boyfriend? He works here? Are you kidding me?"

"You were not aware of this?"

"No," he said in utter shock.

"Did Holly know?"

"If she did, she didn't tell me about it."

"Was she acting suspicious?"

"She always acts suspicious."

"Did she tell you her reasons for coming to this appointment during this crisis with her son?"

"She hinted at it being a checkup for, I don't know, something serious like cancer or something. I figured that made sense."

Health centers did do checks for ovarian cancer-and that would certainly be a valid, though unlikely, reason for her to come to the clinic while her son was still being held by a known murderer... But the pieces didn't quite slide together. There was something else going on, something Dan was probably oblivious to. He didn't strike her as the type who could hide anything.

"All right, Dan. Thank you. We will be speaking to Miss Paris so she may be awhile."

"Can I come in?" He gripped the door handle.

"No. Stay put. If I see you anywhere near that building, I'll arrest you for obstruction. Do you understand?"

His fingers slid off the handle. "I'll just wait here then."

She left Dan and joined the other officers on the sidewalk. Perez had stood close enough to hear the conversation, but she brought the others up to speed with one sentence. "Holly Paris claims to be here for some kind of cancer screening. Her friend Dan believes she is unaware of the connection between Gary Carter and the clinic."

They all acknowledge her a.s.sessment.

"Let's go find out what's really going on."

Chapter 34.

Gary Carter's office looked official with its L-shaped chestnut desk, black leather office chair, and cushioned visitor chairs. Potted plants adorned chestnut cabinets in each rear corner, and the walls were spa.r.s.ely decorated with more of the same kind of paintings found in the rest of the building. This surprised Holly. Why would he choose the same style of painting for his office? They had the same outdoor Maine theme with the same heavy brush strokes, the same gold-spec frames. Was Gary responsible for choosing the decor of the clinic? Did he run it?

If he was the killer, this would make sense. He had pursued a career that allowed him to be a gatekeeper of life, deciding which mothers were fit to have children, and which should be pressured to abort. But running an abortion clinic wasn't enough for him; he had taken his ideology to the furthest extreme. He wasn't content to spare unborn children a life of hardship and pain; he was driven to randomly select living children to rescue from a life of despair, the life he himself was forced to live. But the children were not random. She had come here six years ago and rejected this clinic's advice to abort her baby. Gary Carter must not have been content with that. Too many mothers must have slipped through his fingers. Too many babies had lived to suffer at the hands of their unfit mothers. It must have eaten at his insides. If his whole ident.i.ty was locked into saving babies from a long life of pain, it had to kill him when they slipped through his fingers.

So what was his role at this clinic, Holly wondered, doctor or administrator? Was he directly responsible for executing the procedure that cut the babies from their mother's womb, or did he just facilitate it? Her time was terribly short, but she couldn't leave without knowing.

Frantically she searched the wall behind his desk and found his medical diploma. There it was. Gary Earl Carter, M.D. Graduate of Tames School of Medicine. How nice. He burned his way through some backwoods medical school and found a place to nest here in Sunbury where he could prey on young women in crisis, all on the government's coin. Her stomach turned at the thought of how many unsuspecting young girls had put themselves in his hands, believing he was helping them out of a sense of compa.s.sion, when secretly he hated them.

She looked at the file cabinets on the right wall. What was in those cabinets? And why did he want to torch them? Did they contain evidence of malpractice? Would she be helping him escape prosecution for the crimes he had committed?

Was she willing to sacrifice the well-being of other children to save her own? She wished she had just mindlessly done the deed. At least then she would have been oblivious to her crime. But was it too late? She could slide the drawer open and drop the bomb in without looking. She didn't have to carry the guilt of knowing what or whom she had sacrificed to save her child.

She took the bomb out of her purse, dropped to her knees in front of the bottom right drawer, and clasped the handle. But she couldn't bring herself to open it. A war raged in her heart. But if she did not do this horrible thing, he had promised to kill her son. Her son's life was sitting on a pile of explosives, and her finger was on the b.u.t.ton. But she couldn't do it without knowing.

She yanked the drawer open and rifled through the paperwork. The folders inside contained financial records for the clinic. There were no doc.u.ments for patients. She opened the next drawer. It was filled with official looking government paperwork. Again, nothing to do with patients. The top drawer had more of the same. Did he want to destroy the financial history of the clinic? Maybe this wasn't about the children at all. She pushed the top two drawers closed and pulled all the folders in the bottom drawer to the front.

The bomb was small, and the cabinet made of metal. It was a trade, financial records for the life of her son. She could live with that. She placed the bomb near the rear wall of the drawer, pushed the folders back into place, and shut the cabinet.

Chapter 35.

Angela Grant moved briskly down the hall with the receptionist in hot pursuit.