Lullabies and Lies - By Mallory Kane Page 0,67
you.”
Bess’s eyes opened. “You’re FBI?”
Griff forced a smile. “So you were listening?”
“Not dead yet.”
“Bess, I need to find your daughter. She has Sunny’s baby, doesn’t she?”
Bess closed her eyes and nodded. “Never should have—”
“It’s okay. Trust me. I know you were protecting the baby. I know you called Sunny.”
“I couldn’t refuse to take—the baby. Janie hates babies.” She licked her lips. “Babies need love.”
“Yes, they do.” He patted her wrinkled hand.
“The rattle?”
“We found Emily’s rattle.”
“Kept it to prove—”
He nodded. “To prove you were telling the truth about Emily.”
She nodded weakly. Then, with a sudden surge of strength, Bess grasped his wrist. “Mia! You’ve got to stop her.”
He leaned closer. “Stop her?”
“I told her if anything happened to me…”
Griff waited, his heart pounding.
“Told her to get the book.”
“The book?”
Bess closed her eyes and sighed.
“Bess. What book?”
“Book of children. At my house. Janie wants that book.”
“And Mia knows where it is?”
Bess swallowed. “Mia knows everything.”
“Bess.” He squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry. Tell me how to reach Mia. We’ll protect her.”
“And the baby,” Bess whispered.
He felt the sting of tears. Clenching his jaw, he nodded. “And the baby.”
135 hours missing
SUNNY COULDN’T TEAR her eyes from the obscene black stain of blood on the oak coffee table. It was Bess Raymond’s blood. She couldn’t help but wonder if any of it was Emily’s.
Jane prodded her with the gun. “Go on. I don’t have all day.”
She swallowed. “You shot her. Why?”
Jane laughed. “Because she didn’t listen to me. After all these years, old Bess finally decided she could think for herself. Surprised the hell out of me. I didn’t think she had it in her.”
Sunny watched Jane in fascination. How could she have thought she was nondescript? Her brown eyes glittered with evil lights. Her face was sharp and sallow, the skin drawn across her bones as tightly as a latex glove. She moved quickly, jerkily, like a bird.
At first, Sunny had thought she was mad. But she wasn’t. She was brilliant and deadly. And she had Emily.
“Where’s my baby?”
“Get to work. I need that book.”
Jane’s cold voice sent chills through Sunny. “I don’t know anything about a book.”
Jane bared her teeth in a sneer. “Then you’d better get started.” She looked at her watch. “I have to leave by six o’clock. Ed is appearing at a town meeting. If you haven’t found the book by then, well…” She shrugged.
“What about Emily?”
“That’s up to you. Find the book in time, and you might get to see your kid.”
…before you die. Sunny filled in the unspoken words. They didn’t have the power to frighten her anymore. She knew Jane was going to kill her.
“Swear to me that Emily is safe.”
“Oh please.” Jane rolled her eyes. “Your kid is fine. I’m not a monster.”
Yes you are.
Monsters came in all shapes and sizes. All Sunny could do was pray that Jane was telling the truth about Emily. Hope was all she had. She’d cling to it as long as she could.
“What kind of book is it?”
“It has names. Dates,” Jane said. “Like a diary.”
“Where do you want me to start?”
Jane pushed her hair back in the same gesture that Griff had caught on film. “Hell if I know. Just find it.”
Sunny surveyed the large living room. The police and the EMTs had made a mess. Furniture was pushed aside. Fingerprint dust coated everything. From TV, Sunny knew the paper curls were the backing of fingerprint tape.
Half of the room was set up as a children’s play area. A big walnut desk nearby held a portable TV and a computer.
“Maybe the desk?”
Jane coughed and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “Fine by me.” She manipulated a lighter with her deformed left hand and took a long drag.
The smell of cigarette smoke drifted toward Sunny as she sat down in the wooden desk chair and pulled out the center drawer. The wheels on the chair squeaked as she moved.
Jane paced in front of the windows, smoking and clicking the safety of the gun on and off, on and off, on and off.
THE CLICK OF THE GUN’S SAFETY echoed in Sunny’s head like the ticking of a clock as she searched frantically. She’d been bent over the huge desk for what felt like hours, as Jane smoked and coughed and paced. The cavernous drawers were filled with a lifetime of receipts, letters, tax records. It appeared that Bess had kept everything in the desk. Sunny had long since decided that whatever “the book” was, it wasn’t in the desk. But she