Gone Too Far (Devlin & Falco #2) - Debra Webb Page 0,103

head back against the seat. She was so tired. For years now she had struggled to remember all the missing fragments. But they had refused to come beyond a snippet here and there.

Suddenly they were like a meteor shower.

Maybe the old man couldn’t deal with the kid any longer. There had been a nanny. Maybe the kid had killed the nanny or tried to hurt the old man. He was too old to deal with that kind of shit.

Sadie wanted to smile at the thought of the kid hurting the old man, but she had a bad feeling she could actually be right.

Her mind drifted back to that night . . . the night when the girl—wearing that bizarre mask like the one in the photos Devlin had shown her—had led Sadie to the shack at the far back corner of the compound. It had been dark. Or maybe Sadie had been dreaming. She couldn’t tell anymore. The sound of laughter and music had still wafted from the main house. Inside people had been dancing and drinking, and probably a few had been hidden in quiet corners doing other stuff.

Isabella’s little girl voice had been saying that she was taking Sadie to her secret place to meet her secret friend. She’d twirled around in the night, whispering things Sadie couldn’t quite make out.

That was right, she realized. It was definitely Isabella who’d led her down those stairs and then through the darkness.

Sadie had been so drunk that night. Like so many nights since her return. Her mind had refused to stop revisiting those dark places she couldn’t quite remember. Some errant brain cell kept stirring the pieces of her fragmented memories in an attempt to put them together like a puzzle that had scattered over the floor.

Only she couldn’t find all the pieces. They wouldn’t all come together.

She was like the nursery rhyme, she thought again. Old Humpty Dumpty in too many pieces to manage.

Oh, but that had abruptly changed. Whether it was seeing all those photos or the girl herself, something was happening in Sadie’s brain, and she couldn’t shut it off.

She’d followed the girl in the mask that night nearly five years ago. To the shack where the little old woman lived. The one who served as the compound’s healer. She was a tiny, bent woman, not much bigger than a child herself. Her gray hair was long and worn in a braid. Her clothes old and clearly homemade.

Sadie’s breath caught at the new rush of sensations, not exactly memories. Images, voices, a knowing.

“Toma,” the old woman said, ushering a cup toward Sadie.

“Drink it,” the girl in the mask said.

The child was blurry, but Sadie had understood that it was the alcohol level in her blood, not the child, really.

She wanted to ask what was in the cup, but she couldn’t. Her tongue wouldn’t work. Instead, she accepted the cup and drank the contents.

The world spun, and then the blackness took her. Two words followed her into the darkness. Be gone.

Sadie jerked upright in her seat.

She blinked. Shook herself. She was in the car. The ugly yellow one. Parked outside the Cortez home.

She blew out a breath. Water. She needed water.

What time was it?

She checked her cell. Almost midnight. She’d dozed off and slept for more than an hour.

“Damn.” She tossed her cell back onto the passenger seat.

She licked her lips as she stared into the darkness around the house. All the windows were dark now.

In the corner of her eye she spotted movement. A wisp of white fluttered around the back corner on this end of the house. Sadie sat up straighter. Peered harder through the darkness.

“What the hell?” she murmured.

She waited and watched. Then she saw it again. Something small but ghostly white in the distance of the backyard.

Opening the car door, she eased out, then pressed it shut. Keeping her head low, she moved around the rear of the car and across the street.

She disappeared into the tree line between the two houses. Soundlessly she crept along the property line until she was in the backyard of the Cortez home.

Holding as still as stone, Sadie waited and watched.

Maybe a minute later the ghostly apparition swept from around the opposite corner of the house and twirled around the backyard. The dress or covering was dark, maybe black like the night. The slip of white was the mask.

A mask exactly like the one the little girl had worn that night all those years ago in Mexico at