The Agent's Redemption. Lisa Childs

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СКАЧАТЬ reporter had failed to find—evidence leading to the real killer. She reached for the plastic tub of Lexi’s photos and letters and journals and dragged it across the floor to the couch where she sat.

      Rebecca had been so busy taking notes during class and studying that she’d had no time for journaling. But Lexi had written every night—sometimes just a short paragraph or sometimes pages. Remembering the date on the photo Jared had showed her, Rebecca reached for that year—the year that Lexi had disappeared. The journal cover was neon green with yellow and orange stripes. It was bright and happy like Lexi had always seemed. But inside those pages was another story—a dark story. This was the journal in which Rebecca had found those photos—of the battered and bruised Lexi.

      Jared had been right: it was too great a coincidence that the women had been photographed together the month that Lexi had disappeared—especially when that woman later disappeared like Lexi had.

      She had looked through this journal earlier when Jared had been there—after he had looked at it and determined that there was no mention of Amy Wilcox. The photos had distracted and angered her then. Now she focused on what Lexi had written. While there was no mention of Amy, Lexi had written several references to meeting someone she had nicknamed Root Beer. Amy’s initials were the name brand of a popular root beer.

       Could it be?

      It was something Lexi would have done—something cute and funny. But they hadn’t met that way. Lexi had met Root Beer at a support group for battered women.

      Harris had been battering Lexi. Who had been battering Amy? From the news reports, Rebecca knew Amy’s age; she was younger than Lexi. She must have only been in high school when she’d gone to those meetings.

      So whoever had abused her was probably no longer in her life. From Lexi’s comments, it was clear that Root Beer had impressed her with strength and wisdom beyond her years. Amy had actually been supportive to Lexi.

      Could Harris have known?

      Her pulse quickened as she skimmed over a passage. Then she read it again, aloud.

      “Ran into Root Beer when I was out with Harris at the mall. She told him that she’d heard a lot of wonderful things about Harry. She said it, though, in such a way that he knew she had heard nothing wonderful about him. And he hates being called Harry. He got so mad at her sassiness that I thought he was going to hit her. But he controlled his temper until we got home and hit me instead. Root Beer saw the bruises at the next meeting and cried. It’s not her fault, though. It’s not even Harris’s fault anymore. It’s my fault for staying. But I’m even more afraid of what he’ll do if I leave...”

      That must have been why Harris had killed her—because she’d found the courage to leave him. Had he decided to kill Amy because he thought Lexi might have gotten some of that courage from the younger girl? But, in keeping with the other killings, he’d had to wait until Amy had gotten engaged—until she was ready to begin a happy new adventure.

      Tears stung Rebecca’s eyes. She blinked and wrinkled her nose, trying to hold back her tears. She had cried so many tears over the past six years. For Lexi. For herself. And for all the other victims.

      Despite her efforts, she couldn’t hold back her tears. Amy deserved them. But was she crying them for Amy? Or was she crying them for herself—out of guilt over not telling Jared he had a son?

      She had spent the past six years trying to justify her action, or inaction, to herself. But there was no justification. Jared had deserved to know the truth and so had Alex. She had been so selfish, keeping her son—her amazing, intelligent, sweet son—all to herself.

      Jared might never forgive her. Would Alex? Earlier she’d been confident that she could make it up to him. But she had spent the past six years trying to be both his mother and his father. And she’d failed.

      She wasn’t the male role model her son craved. She’d dated over the past six years, but she hadn’t brought many of the dates around Alex. She hadn’t wanted her son to get attached to any of them—because she hadn’t been able to get attached herself.

      None of them had been Jared, who was too smart. Too cocky. Too oblivious to her feelings...

      Why hadn’t she been able to get completely over him? She doubted he had thought that often of her over the past six years. But then she’d had Alex—precocious, brilliant Alex—to constantly remind her of Jared.

      Heat flushed her face, and she quickly brushed away her tears—as if embarrassed that she’d been caught crying. She glanced to the hallway leading to the bedrooms and bath, but Alex wasn’t standing there. He hadn’t awakened.

      She was alone.

      Wasn’t she?

      Her skin prickled with awareness—of someone’s gaze on her.

       You’re being watched...

      After that ominous call, she had closed the curtains. But with the lights on in the living room, someone could probably see through the thin fabric. Someone could be out there—watching her.

      Goose bumps rose along her arms, and she shivered. Not could be. Someone was definitely out there— watching her through the curtains. Why?

       You’re in danger...

      And if she was in danger, so was Alex. After that call earlier, maybe she should have done more than close the curtains. Maybe she should have called the police.

      And tell them what? That she got an ominous phone call? They couldn’t investigate every prank call. And there had been no obvious threat made.

      It had been more of a warning.

       You’re in danger...

      Maybe she had let that call get to her—like Jared had thought he’d let the reporter get to him. Maybe that call had put her on edge, and she was only imagining that someone was watching her.

      Gathering her courage, she turned toward the window and pulled back the curtain to peer out into the darkness. The light from the living room spilled out—and glinted off the eyes staring in the window at her.

      She clasped her hand over her mouth to hold in the scream of sheer terror.

       You’re being watched...

      It was no prank. Someone was out there.

       You’re in danger...

      And whoever was out there meant her harm.

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