“I don’t know. But if it’s on one of these five hard drives, we’ll find it.”

Five hard drives. Twenty-five hundred gig. A hundred thousand pictures. “Dammit.”

“We’ll figure it out, Luke.”

“In time for the five girls Granville’s current partner took with him?” Luke said bitterly. “We’ve been at this for twenty hours and nothing fits. We’ve got a missing judge and swastika brands. We’ve got a name, Rocky, that means absofuckinglutely nothing. We’ve got a six-year-old homicide in New York and thirteen-year-old rapes, and they’re somehow connected. And we’ve got a girl who won’t goddamn wake up and tell us what happened.” He looked away, his temper a second away from explosion.

Beside him, Nate drew a careful breath. “And we’ve got a dead girl named Angel who we should have saved,” he said quietly.

A sob rose in Luke’s throat and, horrified, he tried to shove it back. “Goddammit, Nate,” he choked. “Look what he did to her. To all of them.”

Nate squeezed his shoulder hard. “It’s all right,” he murmured. “It wouldn’t be the first time one of us let go in here. That’s why we’re soundproofed.”

Luke shook his head, slowly grappling for his control. “I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Okay, I’m not. But I’ll do what needs to be done.” He checked his watch. “I’ve got enough time to see Daniel before the Knights get to identify their daughter. Maybe Daniel knows something more.”

“You need to sleep, Luke.”

“Not now. I can’t close my eyes now. I’ll see that.”

Atlanta, Saturday, February 3, 2:30 p.m.

“Hello, Susannah.”

Susannah turned in the chair next to Jane Doe’s bed, surprised to find Mrs. Papadopoulos holding a big shopping bag in each hand. “Mama Papa. Hello.”

“I thought I would find you here, with this girl.”

Susannah smiled. “I thought you’d already forgotten about this girl.”

Her dark eyes twinkled. “I am mute when I leave. For now, I bring you these. Luka told my daughter Demi what my granddaughter bought for you. Demi was not pleased.”

“It was still very kind,” Susannah said, but Luke’s mother shook her head.

“So I send my youngest daughter Mitra out this morning to buy you proper clothing.” She held out the bags. “You like, you buy. You no like, Mitra will return.”

Susannah looked through the bags and smiled. “It’s all beautiful. Truly appropriate.”

“And everything was on sale.” Mama’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve been crying.”

“I went to a funeral. I always cry at funerals.” Which was a lie, but Susannah had to keep some dignity. “Here, come meet M. Jane Doe.”

Luke’s mama covered the girl’s hand with hers. “It’s nice to meet you, Jane,” she said softly. “I hope you wake up soon.” Then she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the girl’s forehead and Susannah felt new tears well. No one, ever, had done that to her. Luke’s mama turned to Susannah, her dark eyes shrewdly appraising. “Come, let’s change you out of that dirty dress. You’ll feel better.”

“All right.” Susannah brushed the hair from the girl’s face. “I’ll be back soon.”

Atlanta, Saturday, February 3, 2:45 p.m.

She wasn’t dead. Monica couldn’t move again, but she wasn’t dead. Whatever the nurse gave me wore off before. It will wear off again. So stay calm. It’ll wear off.

When it does, what will you do? Will you tell the cops? If you do, they’ll sell Genie.

If I don’t, they might anyway. They won’t let her go. I have to tell.

At least Susannah was back from changing her clothes, sitting in the chair next to her bed, but something was wrong there, too. I always cry at funerals, Susannah had told the woman, the one who’d brought her clothes. The one who kissed my forehead.

Funeral for who? They couldn’t be burying the others yet. It was only yesterday that they’d been killed. Who died? Susannah had left with the other woman, then had returned a few minutes later alone. She’d been quiet. Subdued. So very sad.

Monica tensed. Someone else was here now. “How is she?” a man asked.

It was the agent, the one with the black eyes. Luke. He sounded angry. Upset.

“She woke up for a little while this morning,” Susannah said, “but she slipped back under. I suppose it’s her way of dodging the pain for a while.”

A chair scraped and Monica could feel the warmth from his body. “Did she say anything when she woke up?”

“I wasn’t here.”

“What about yesterday? Did she say anything else?”

“No. She just looked at me like I was God or something.”

“You brought her out of the woods.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Susannah said, and Luke sighed.

“Susannah. You did not cause this.”

“I don’t happen to agree.”

“Talk to me,” he said, frustrated. Like he’d said it before.

“Why?”

“Because… Because I want to know.”

“You want to know what, Agent Papadopoulos?” Susannah’s voice had grown cold.

“Why you think this is your fault.”

“Because I knew,” she said flatly. “I knew and I said nothing.”

“What did you know?” he asked, soothingly.

“I knew Simon was a rapist.”

Simon. Who is Simon? Who did he rape?

“I thought Simon didn’t do any of the rapes, that he only took the pictures.”

There was a beat of silence. “He did at least one.”

Oh, no. Monica now understood. Whoever Simon was, he’d raped Susannah, too.

Luke sucked in a breath. “Did you tell Daniel?”

Who is Daniel?

“No,” Susannah said angrily. “And neither will you. I only know that if I’d said something, this might have been avoided. She might not be here right now.”

Nobody said anything for a long time, but Monica could hear them breathe.

Finally Luke spoke. “I recognized one of the bodies back there yesterday.”

“How?” Susannah asked, surprise in her voice.

“From a case I was working eight months ago. I failed to protect that girl. I failed to bring a sexual sadist that preyed on children to justice. I want another bite at the apple.”

He sounded so very angry. His voice shook.

“Granville’s dead,” Susannah said.

Dead? He’s dead? Hallelujah. He couldn’t hurt Genie.

“But there’s still the other. Someone who’s pulling the strings. Someone who taught Granville how to be very good at his job,” he said bitterly. “I want him. I want to throw him into hell and throw away the key.”

The other. The woman who’d given the doctor the order to kill them. The other had Genie. Monica’s elation fizzled.

“Why are you telling me this?” Susannah asked. There was a note of impatience in her voice, like tell me something I don’t already know.

“Because you want the same thing.”

There was a long pause. “What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know yet. I’ll call you when I do.” He got up. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not telling Daniel about Simon.”

“Thank you for respecting my decision.”

Then Luke was gone and Susannah sighed heavily.

Yeah, Monica thought helplessly. Tell me about it.

Daniel looked asleep, Luke thought as he stood in the doorway.

“I’m not asleep,” Daniel said, opening his eyes. His voice was raspy, but stronger than Luke had anticipated. “I was wondering when you’d come by.”

Luke’s gaze dropped to the smudges on the shoulder of Daniel’s hospital gown. “You’d think for what you’re paying that you’d at least get a clean gown.”

One side of Daniel’s mouth lifted and Luke saw an uncanny resemblance to Susannah. In no other way did they look alike. “Everything went to hell yesterday.”

“You have no idea. I don’t have much time, but I need some information.”

“Shoot.” Daniel grimaced. “Actually, on second thought, don’t do that.”