Girl Two: Taken (A Maya Gray FBI Suspense Thriller—Book 2)

CHAPTER ONE FBI Special Agent Maya Gray sat in the hospital and waited, hoping that soon she would get some answers. Just on the other side of the door, the woman she’d managed to save from a deadly kidnapper lay with doctors tending to her. Maya could feel her frustration rising at not being able to ask any questions until they were done. This woman held the answers. And every second mattered. It had been days now since Maya had received the postcard that had claimed a kidnapper was holding women, and had signed off with the nickname that Megan had always used for her. Maya had to know if this man really had her sister, and where. Maya tried to be patient. She was just one of the half dozen FBI agents waiting there. Maya could only guess at the ordeal the twenty-two-year-old singer had gone through. “You’ll get to talk to her soon,” Marco Spinelli said. He had done so much to help her get this far, and Maya felt herself growing closer to him. He’d stayed, even though Maya guessed that he should be getting back to his job as a Cleveland detective. He sat beside her, muscled swimmer’s frame crammed into a hospital chair, so that for once he didn’t tower over Maya, tall as she was. His dark hair was more tousled than usual, and those piercing gray-blue eyes seemed more tired than usual. Maya knew how he felt. “The doctors have told us nothing,” Maya said. “We could be here an hour or a week.” “We have time now,” Marco pointed out. “There’s no deadline for this part.” No, the deadline had been for the last case, trying to solve it on the whim of a man who claimed to have kidn*pped twelve women, twelve “bunnies,” to be returned only if Maya did what he wanted. Maya stood, stretching. As she did so, she caught a glimpse of herself reflected in the glass of Liza Carty’s room. She looked a mess, with her dark hair escaping from its ponytail, her FBI standard suit definitely in need of dry cleaning, her features looking their thirty five years and more now that she was tired. She normally didn’t care about appearances, but in front of Marco, she had the urge to fix her hair, at least. She was just beginning, when the alarms started to go off in the room beyond the glass. A doctor came running out. “We need some help in here!” “What’s going on?” Maya asked, following him. “She’s crashing. I need to get back in there now, and you need to let me do my job!” Maya let him go, watching as he and a couple of other doctors ran into the private room and started to work on Liza Carty. She saw one of them grab a needle from a crash cart, jabbing it into her while another started chest compressions. After that, though, one of the nurses drew the blinds on the room, making it impossible to see inside. “What’s going on here?” Maya turned to see Deputy Director Harris approaching, along with most of the other agents there. A couple of them had their hands on their weapons, reacting as if the alarm meant some kind of attack. Maybe it was just because that was the kind of situation they could actually do something about, and it was better than just standing there waiting. Harris stood there, looking serious in his expensive suit and with his closely shaved head. He fiddled with the gold clip of his tie. For once, he didn’t look like someone’s rich uncle, just her boss, serious and all business. “We need her to catch this bastard, Gray.” He didn’t have the incentive of trying to save Megan, but it was obvious by this point that he wanted to catch the kidnapper at least as much. A doctor came out, looking serious but relieved. “How is she?” Maya asked. “Ms. Carty is back with us,” the doctor said, “and has managed to wake up, but she is very weak. I don’t want anyone disturbing her until she has rested fully.” “Doctor,” Harris said. “Do you understand that this is a witness in a case where multiple lives are at stake?” “The life I care most about at the moment is hers,” the doctor said. “That was a very close call.” “I still don’t think you understand the situation,” Harris said. “I understand that Ms. Carty is a very ill woman,” the doctor replied. “From what I understand, she was subjected to a very traumatic experience, and the physical aspects of it have proved considerable.” “Will she recover?” Maya asked. “We have no way of knowing at this stage,” the doctor said, “and I can really only release more information to Ms. Carty’s family.” “We are in the middle of a serious and urgent investigation,” Harris said. “And I am in the middle of trying to save my patient’s life. Step aside, please, we need to get back to our jobs.” Maya and Harris had to move to one side to let out the remaining doctors and nurses from the room. Maya saw them going back to their other patients in the busy ER and felt a moment of appreciation for how difficult their jobs had to be, trying to save lives. But she was too, and she couldn’t just let this go. Nor, it seemed, could Harris. “Doctor,” he said, and now other agents started to group around him, near the door. “You’re obstructing an active investigation, one in which the lives of another eleven women may be at stake.” He was using his most authoritative voice now, the one he saved for when he was in wrangles with other departments within the FBI, or when he had to make it clear to local cops that they had jurisdiction over a particular case. It was a voice that got people to back down, in most cases. Finally, the doctor sighed. “Make it quick,” he said, conceding. To Maya’s surprise, Harris looked at her, and nodded to her, singling her out to talk to the patient. Maya wasted no time. She slipped past them and stepped into the hospital room. Liza Carty was sitting up on the bed, but she didn’t look good. She was so pale she was almost gray, her blonde hair plastered with sweat. The tubes and wires connected to her didn’t help either. Even so, she managed a smile as Maya came in. “Agent… Gray. Am I ok? The doctors won’t tell me anything.” “How do you feel, Liza?” she asked in her most calming and compassionate voice. She didn’t have much time before a doctor came in, but even so, she knew that she had to do this gently. “Like I’ve been hit by a truck. My chest feels so tight.” “Try not to think about it now,” Maya said. She took a breath. “Liza, I need to ask you some questions about what happened to you. Anything you can tell me might help the others there. There are others there, right?” “Eleven,” Liza managed. “Eleven others. I…” She trailed off, then she looked right at Maya, her eyes shining with intensity. “I met your sister.” Maya’s heart fell. Those words confirmed all of her worst fears. They made her feel sick with worry, and fueled the need to know more. She had to find Megan and the others. “Is she all right?” Maya needed to know that her sister wasn’t hurt or worse. That there was still some chance to save her. “She’s there…” Liza said, “…he kept us all together, like…like….Megan and I tried to escape. That’s when… that’s when he chose me.” Was it just random, then? Maya had assumed that this had something to do with the victim in the last murder she’d investigated. “Is everyone there a performer?” Maya asked, thinking of the theory that she and Marco had come up with when they’d found out about the possible link between Liza as a singer and the cold case victim, who’d been a dancer. “I… don’t know,” Liza said. “What about the man who held you?” Maya said. “Can you tell me anything about him?” Liza started to shake her head. “He wore a mask.” “What about his voice? His eyes? His hands?” Maya would take any information she could get right then. Looking round, she could see Agent Ignatio Reyes peeking in at the door. “He… he had a…bland voice,” Liza said. “Except… he sang to me. That last night, he sang…I think he sang before…” It wasn’t much, but it was something. Maya kept going, and as she did so, she saw Agent Reyes in the doorway, listening in. Maya wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Reyes was a good agent, and he wanted the truth in all this as much as Maya did, but he’d already shown that he cared more about catching the kidnapper than about keeping her sister safe. “What about the place you were held?” Maya asked. “What do you remember?” Maya saw beads of sweat break out on Liza’s face as she thought. She hated pushing Liza like this, but she needed to know. Not just for her sister’s sake. But for those ten other women, too. “There were…rooms…corridors…no windows. I think… I think maybe it was underground?” Liza didn’t sound sure. “What about when he took you out of there?” Maya said. “Did you get any glimpse of where it was?” Again, Liza shook her head. “He blindfolded me…told me he’d kill me if I…if I took it off.” “I understand,” Maya said. There had to be something, though. Everyone made mistakes, no matter how careful they were. “How long did you drive to get where he dropped you?” “Maybe…an hour?” Liza said. A lot of places could be an hour from where they’d made the handoff. “Is there anything else?” Maya asked. “Anything at all?” Liza seemed to gaze off into space. Maya wondered how much of her was present, and how much was lost in nightmares. She hated questioning her in this state. But she also didn’t want to see eleven more women die. Or her sister. “Please, Liza.” “Violets,” she said. “I remember the smell of violets. Overwhelming, and it…” She clutched a hand to her chest, and suddenly all the alarms were going off again. “Doctor!” Maya called out, but the doctor was already rushing back inside. “Get out!” he screamed. He rushed over to Liza and Maya stumbled out, having to make way for the other medics who ran in even as she left. She found herself standing outside, feeling awful. Had she just pushed Liza too hard? Or was this going to happen anyway, and she’d just gotten the little she could in the time? The thought of saving Liza only to lose her was too much. She slumped back against the wall, waiting, feeling guilty. She shouldn’t have pushed like that, no matter the reason, even with lives at stake. It was only a few minutes before the doctor came out again, with an angry expression on his face. “I hope you got what you wanted, Director,” he said bitterly to Harris, not bothering to hold back his anger, “because now she’s gone.” Maya winced at that. She’d done everything she could to save Liza, and now, it was for nothing. “I want you out of my ER,” he said to Harris. Harris glanced at Maya, who nodded back. She’d gotten all she could. But Maya would save the rest of them, whatever it took. She would go back into work tomorrow, wait for the next postcard, and try to take it further. For now, though, all she had to go on was the smell of violets.