only been one victim. It should have stopped with you.
But she’d said nothing then, and she’d have to live with that for the rest of her life.
“Facing one’s attacker is an important part of dealing with an assault,” Susannah said levelly. At least that’s what she’d always told the rape victims who were uncertain about testifying in court. In the past she’d believed it. Today she wasn’t so sure.
“I guess you’ve prepared your share of rape victims to testify.” His voice was incredibly gentle, but underneath she heard the tremble of a barely leashed fury. “I imagine it will be more difficult when you’re the one in the witness box.”
There was that word again . . . difficult . It wouldn’t be difficult to testify. It would be the most terrifying experience of her life. “I told you and Daniel that I’d stand with the other victims, Agent Papadopoulos,” she said sharply, “and I meant it.”
“I never thought anything different,” he said, but she didn’t believe him.
“My flight to New York is at six. I need to be at the Atlanta airport by four. Can you drop me off on your way back to your headquarters?”
He shot her a frown. “You’re going back tonight?”
“I missed a lot of work with my parents’ funeral last week. I need to get back.”
“Daniel had hoped to spend some time with you.”
Annoyance flared and her voice hardened. “I think Daniel has his hands full with picking up the three surviving . . .” She faltered. “Members of Simon’s club.” But the word she used daily on the job would not roll off her tongue. “Not to mention catching whoever’s killed five Dutton women in the last week.”
“We know who the killer is.” His own annoyance came through. “We will find him. It’s just a matter of time. And we’ve got one of the rapists in custody already.”
“Ah, yes. Mayor Davis. That one surprised me.” Thirteen years ago Garth Davis had been a dumb jock, not the type to lead a gang of his peers to assault his classmates. But he’d certainly followed along. The pictures didn’t lie. “But Deputy Mansfield escaped, killing his tail.” Randy Mansfield had always been a weasel. Now he wore a badge and carried a gun, a terrifying prospect considering he was still roaming free.
A muscle twitched in Luke’s jaw. “Mansfield’s tail was a damn good agent named Oscar Johnson,” he said tightly. “He left behind three kids and a pregnant wife.”
He was grieving. He was also Daniel’s friend, and obviously loyal. “I’m sorry,” she said more gently. “But you have to admit you and Daniel do not have the situation under control. You don’t even know who the third . . .” Say it. Now. She cleared her throat. “Who the third rapist is.”
“We’ll find him,” Papadopoulos repeated stubbornly.
“I’m sure you will, but I still can’t stay. Besides, Daniel has a new lady friend to hold his hand,” she added, hearing that edge in her voice she despised. That Daniel had found happiness out of all this mess seemed . . . unfair. Of course that was childish. Life wasn’t fair. Susannah had learned that long ago. “I wouldn’t dream of intruding.”
“You’d like Alex Fallon,” he said, “if you’d just give her a chance.”
“I’m sure I would. But Miss Fallon’s had a hard day, too, seeing her sister’s picture in that box with all the others.” Including mine. Don’t think about it. Instead, she focused on Alex Fallon.
Daniel’s new girlfriend was connected to their lives in a very real way. Alex’s twin sister had been murdered thirteen years ago by one of the boys who’d assaulted so many. Susannah might be childish enough to resent Daniel’s happiness, but she could not wish anything bad on Alex Fallon. The woman had suffered a great deal in her life.
Luke grunted in reluctant agreement. “True. And her stepsister’s still missing.”
“Bailey Crighton,” Susannah said. One of the four dead rapists was
Douglas Preston, Lincoln Child