Midnight Fear (12 page)

C
aitlyn waited outside the closed door in the corridor of Springdale Penitentiary. Dread pooled in her stomach, but she kept her shoulders rigid, vowing not to show weakness.

“It’s going to be fine, Caitlyn,” Reid reaffirmed, standing beside her. But the tense look around his eyes negated his words. “We’ve made no promises other than a private visit—five minutes, no more and no less. His wrists are shackled to the table. He won’t be able to touch you.”

Agent Tierney walked from where he had been conversing with a muscled prison guard, reminding Caitlyn of his presence, as well. “We’ll be keeping an eye out through the observation window, Ms. Cahill. Remember our goal.”

She released a tight breath. “To get a location on the remains.”

“I don’t like this.” Whether Reid muttered the statement to himself or intended for someone else to hear
it, Caitlyn wasn’t sure. She’d met the two agents at the VCU offices in D.C., and they’d traveled together by car to the federal prison in Maryland. Reid had been pensive and brooding for most of the ride.

What occurred between us this afternoon was my fault. I shouldn’t have let it happen
.

Caitlyn recalled his regret about their kiss and felt her chest constrict all over again.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

When she gave a small nod, the guard moved to unlock the door. She walked inside the room on wobbly legs, her eyes meeting her brother’s for the first time in two years. Physically, prison appeared to have changed Joshua little—he was thin and wiry, his raven hair still worn shaggy and hanging into his dark eyes. He had grown a goatee, making her wonder if it was an attempt to look tougher, more streetwise. The ugly, orange prison jumpsuit he wore clashed with his olive skin. It had a series of numbers printed on its front pocket.

“Hello, Caity.” Joshua lifted his hand in a small wave, his movement restricted by the handcuffs attached to the table where he sat. “It’s good to see you.”

Caitlyn jumped involuntarily as the guard closed the door behind her, leaving them alone.

“Want a seat?”

Stiffly, she sat down across from him. Her mouth felt dry, and she realized her heart was racing. “How are you, Joshua?”

“I’m good.” He rattled the handcuffs that tethered him and gave her a weak smile. “Considering.”

His dark eyes darted over her, causing goose bumps to rise along her flesh. Caitlyn clenched her hands together in her lap, her whitened knuckles hidden from him by the tabletop.

“You haven’t changed a bit.”

“You’re wrong,” she whispered. “I have.”

Solemn, he considered this. “I hope you’ve been able to get on with your life, at least.”

Her chin rose slightly, although she didn’t speak.

“I hear you’re running an equine therapy program.” He fidgeted in his chair. Was he as nervous as she? “It makes sense. I remember how you always loved your horses.”

Caitlyn studied Joshua’s mild features, trying to identify some monster lurking within him. Was it still there, or had the medication and psychiatrists finally managed to exorcise it? Reid firmly believed he hadn’t changed.

“How’s Mom?”

“She’s…in a home now.” When Joshua’s forehead wrinkled in surprise, she added, “I had to put her there several months ago. Most likely she’s in the advanced stages of Alzheimer’s, although the specialists disagree on a diagnosis.”

“I’m sorry.” He looked genuinely sad. “I didn’t know.”

Whatever had claimed Caroline, Caitlyn knew one truth. Her brother’s crimes were the catalyst.

“Mom’s being well cared for,” she said, tamping down the resentment she felt. “She’s at the Vinings
Care Facility in Foggy Bottom. I’m selling the house in Georgetown to help pay for it.”

He sighed. “I know how hard all this must have been on you, Caity.”

“What about the families of the victims whose lives you took?” she asked quietly, unable to stop herself. “I’m sure it was much harder on them.”

“I was sick.” Joshua’s eyes captured hers. “I have to live with what I did every day. And I’ll pay for it the rest of my life.
No possibility of parole
means I’m never going to get out of here. Do you understand that? I need to at least have some absolution from you.”

“You could have told me, Joshua.” She stared down at her hands, trying to continue. “You could have told me about the…urges you were having. Maybe I could have—”

“Helped?”

Caitlyn looked at him.

“You saw my journal. What I fantasized about doing to women. What I
did
do to them, eventually. Do you really think you could’ve stopped me?”

“I—I don’t know.”

He gave a small, bitter laugh, shaking his head in seeming amusement. In a quiet voice he added, “I used to have the same fantasies about you.”

The temperature inside the small room seemed to drop by twenty degrees. Caitlyn’s breath came out in a little hiss as she stared at Joshua. His dark eyes had changed, appearing black and pupiless. “You were my muse, Caity. Didn’t you know that?”

“Don’t.”

“You want to know the truth. I’m giving it to you.”

Taking a breath, Caitlyn pushed on. “But you never…hurt me. You didn’t try to kill me.”

He glanced at the smoky window, then lowered his voice to a near whisper. “But I wanted to. So much. I used to jack off thinking about it. I’d imagine sneaking up on you when no one was home, tying you down and—”

Her chair scraped backward as Caitlyn stood, blood rushing in her ears. At nearly the same second, the door to the room flew open. Reid stalked inside, his eyes on Joshua. “Time’s up.”

Joshua smirked. “Not according to the clock on the wall, Agent Novak.”

“I don’t give a damn.” Reid pulled at Caitlyn’s arm. “Let’s go.”

“We’re not done.” Caitlyn’s voice came out shakily. She would see this through. No matter what Joshua said to her, she wasn’t leaving here without the information he’d promised. She wasn’t going to have gone through this for nothing. Caitlyn’s eyes locked with Reid’s. “Give us two more minutes.”

His features appeared strained, but he left the room again. Caitlyn turned back to Joshua. His eyebrows were raised in amusement.

“Novak’s become your knight in shining armor, Caity. It was very
gallant,
the way he charged in here.”

Caitlyn returned to her chair. She pushed a yellow
notepad and pen that lay on the table toward Joshua’s shackled hands.

“Are you giving him any pussy?”

The vileness inside Joshua was clearer to her than it had ever been before. It was as if the quiet, reserved person she had known could be instantly drawn into the shadows, replaced at will by the disgusting creature in front of her. Reid was right. No medications, no doctors could ever drain the evil from inside him.

“Just give me the location—” she swallowed down her disgust “—of the remains of the other women you killed.”

He blinked at her innocently. “Other women?”

“Don’t play games.”

A ghost smile appeared on his lips. Joshua reached for the pen, his handcuffs rattling against the restraint. “I only promised one. You want more, you’ll have to come visit again.”

As Caitlyn left the room, the prison guard moved past her, ready to take Joshua back to his cell. She clenched the paper tightly in her fingers. Reid and Agent Tierney waited for her in front of the smoked-glass window. Tierney appeared poised, his arms folded over his chest and his shirtsleeves rolled up to reveal sinewy forearms sprinkled with coarse hair. Reid was an altogether different matter, however. He looked stressed, and his eyes seemed to assess Caitlyn for some visible sign of damage. His face was flushed above the collar of his blue dress shirt. She realized it had taken every ounce
of self-control he had to leave her alone with Joshua after the things he had no doubt heard him say to her through the room’s intercom.

“Donna Faust is at Deep Creek Lake,” she stated quietly, holding out the paper. “He drew a map to the location. It’s pretty specific.”

“That’s helpful of him. If he isn’t sending us on a wild-goose chase.” Agent Tierney stepped forward and took it, studying the drawing.

Reid moved closer to her. “It’s over now.”

“It’s not over and you know it.” Caitlyn stared at him. “Not until he gives up the other bodies, however many there are. Those women need to be laid to rest.”

“It’s an hour from here to Deep Creek. We need to get out there.” Agent Tierney folded the paper and stuffed it into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. “I’ll have Morehouse meet us at the site with Forensics.”

“I’ve got to go,” Reid said to her. “I’ll get someone to drive you back to the office.”

“I’m going with you.”

He shook his head. “No.”

“I got you the victim’s name and the body’s location,” Caitlyn implored. “I
need
to be there.”

“I don’t want you to—”

“Let her come,” Agent Tierney interjected. He was looking at Reid, not Caitlyn, making her feel like an unwanted child who’d begged to tag along. “She can stay in the car.”

Frowning, Reid ran a hand through his dark hair. His voice was low. “Let’s go.”

D
eep Creek Lake was tucked into the autumn-hued mountains of western Maryland. Despite the brisk afternoon, sailboats glided along the crystalline waters. Caitlyn leaned against the front of Agent Tierney’s Crown Victoria, shivering inside her wool coat. She watched as the closest of the boats slid past her with sails billowing before returning her attention to the grisly activity occurring a short distance away.

Forensic technicians were carefully excavating the sunken, brown earth in the location Joshua had described. The spot was about fifty feet back from a maintenance shed, at the edge of a wooded trail leading down to the shoreline. A clearly discernible
X
had been carved into the bark of a nearby oak, marking the spot where Joshua had supposedly buried Donna Faust’s body. Reid and Agent Tierney stood with Agent Morehouse at the edge of the scene, their backs to Caitlyn.

“We’ve got something,” one of the jumpsuited technicians called out, his voice raised in excitement. Anx
iety tingling along her spine, Caitlyn left the sedan and moved closer. She saw several of the crime scene workers crouched at the edge of the shallow hole, using brushlike whisks to clear away loose dirt.

“Caitlyn.” Reid gently caught her arm. “You were supposed to stay at the car.”

She looked down at his hand on her coat sleeve. A latex glove, its tips smudged with dirt, encased his fingers. Caitlyn swallowed, realizing he’d been searching through the soil, as well. Looking for remnants of the woman Joshua had murdered.

“Go back to the car,” he warned.

“I can take her back to the District,” Agent Morehouse offered.

“She stays.” Tierney peered at her, his large hands hooked into the gun belt at his waist. “I think she should get a firsthand look at her baby brother’s work.”

“Bone.” A technician brushed at a series of grime-covered arches exposed in the dirt and decaying leaves. The man squinted up at the FBI agents and police surrounding the shallow grave. “Appears to be a rib cage, female, judging by the size.”

He approximated an area about a foot higher, brushing at the dirt there, as well. “We’ve got a skull.”

Caitlyn stared at the cap of rounded bone rising out of the dirt. She felt Reid’s hand at the small of her back, and she realized her knees had gone weak. Pressing her fingers hard against her lips, she pushed away from him and forced herself to stand erect, watching as the rest of Donna Faust’s skeleton was carefully and incrementally
exposed. It had been more than two years since she’d been buried there, after Joshua had finished with her. There was nothing left of her but bones—no tissue, no putrid smell of decomposing flesh. Still, Caitlyn fought the urge to gag.

Another of the technicians sifted through the dirt with tweezers, extracting a hard, pink glob with leaves attached.

“Appears to be chewing gum.” He dropped it into an evidence bag, then handed it off to continue his dig.

Caitlyn’s throat tightened. The thought of Joshua chewing and snapping as he buried his victim, then spitting the gum wad into the makeshift grave after her, made her skin crawl.

“Probably contains Cahill’s DNA,” Agent Tierney muttered. Forensic cameras snapped at the exposed remains. “Not that we need it.”

It was late afternoon by the time they rolled away from Deep Creek, leaving Forensics behind to close up the remaining details. Reid stared through the car’s passenger window at the media vans gathered outside the park’s entrance. Apparently word had leaked of a crime scene investigation at the usually placid recreational area, drawing news reporters like rotten food attracts flies.

He dropped the sun visor to conceal his face from the reporters they passed, and also to use its mirror to glimpse Caitlyn in the backseat. She sat huddled inside her coat with her hands clasped in her lap, her
features drawn and pale. The wind had blown her honeyed hair for most of the afternoon so that it now hung in wild tangles. She peered out the window, her eyes clouded with pain and no doubt the ghastly recollection of Donna Faust’s remains. Reid hadn’t wanted to bring her out here, and he silently cursed Mitch for exposing Caitlyn to the full extent of her brother’s violence.

I used to have the same fantasies about you… I’d imagine sneaking up on you when no one was home, tying you down and…

He wondered if Caitlyn was imagining herself in the shallow earth, another of Joshua’s victims. Reid thought of the lewd, venomous words her brother had spewed at her in the stark confines of the prison interrogation room. Cahill had used her—he’d clearly gotten off on her shock and horror—and yet she’d steadfastly remained until he had given up the body’s location as promised.

“I’m starving,” Mitch announced from behind the wheel. He looked at Reid. “We’re three hours away from D.C. I say we get away from all this hoopla and stop for a bite.”

Reid nodded faintly. “Fine.”

“There’s a diner outside Swanton, right before the interstate exit. I’ve been there a time or two before.” Mitch glanced at Caitlyn in the rearview mirror. “Or would a greasy spoon, cop hangout offend your culinary tastes, Ms. Cahill?”

“Give her a break, damn it,” Reid muttered under his breath. “She’s been through enough today.”

Mitch fished his cell phone from his suit jacket to let Agent Morehouse, who was following in the car behind them, know of the planned stop.

The meal at the diner was eaten mostly in silence, save for the agents discussing a few specific aspects of the investigation. Caitlyn had ordered coffee and a grilled cheese sandwich, which Reid noticed she’d mostly picked at before leaving the congealed mess on the plate and excusing herself to the ladies’ room. Not that he had eaten much himself. He hadn’t slept well the night before, plagued by a headache and Julianne Hunter’s image in the Metrorail haunting his dreams. Unfortunately, he had been unable to use the prescription sleeping pills, since he’d been due at the FBI offices early that morning for the drive to the penitentiary and didn’t want to risk being groggy.

“Any news on Hunter?” Mitch asked, reaching for a ketchup bottle in a carousel at the edge of the table. He squeezed it, sending out a thick, red spurt across the fries on his plate.

“Not yet.” Morehouse paused as he swallowed his last mouthful of a pastrami sandwich. “The psych evaluation should be completed tomorrow or Wednesday.”

Mitch grunted, then turned to Reid. “When’s your recertification on firearms?”

“I’m due at the range on Thursday.”

“Good. It’s about time you strapped on a gun again.”
He popped another fry into his mouth. “Besides, you’ve been spending so much time working this case you might as well start getting full pay for it. How much time left on your leave?”

“Just this week.” Reid thought of Julianne Hunter again and fought back the worry lacing through him.

Caitlyn returned to the table. Morehouse made a move to get up so she could slide back into the circular booth between him and Reid.

“It’s okay,” she said, halting him. She looked at no one in particular. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll just wait in the car. I know you’re all discussing…business.”

Mitch twisted sideways and began digging in his pocket to hand her the keys.

“You know what?” Morehouse wadded his paper napkin and tossed it onto the vinyl tablecloth. “You’re still eating and I need to get back to the District. Why don’t I take Ms. Cahill with me?”

“I’d appreciate it, Agent Morehouse,” Caitlyn said quietly. “Thank you.”

Reid frowned. He didn’t want Morehouse taking her back to D.C. In fact, what he wanted was to escort her directly to her car himself and make certain she was safely on her way back home. Hell, what he really wanted was a few minutes alone with her so they could talk privately for the first time that day.

He cradled the ceramic coffee mug he held between his palms, feeling what was left of its warmth. “Walk her all the way to her car, Morehouse, okay?”

“You got it. Good night.”

Reid could have sworn he saw the younger agent blushing as he opened the door for Caitlyn and they went out together into the dusk. He returned his gaze to Mitch, who was studying the laminated menu with the focused concentration of a surgeon.

“I don’t know about you,” he said. “But I’m thinking of having the coconut cream pie.”