“Did he run any tests?”

“No. The social worker had told me she’d taken Hope to the ER after they found her hiding in the closet on Friday. They ran tox screens and titers to check her immunization record. She’s had all her childhood immunizations and everything else was in order.”

“Who is her family doctor?”

“I don’t know. Granville, the doctor here in town, said he’d never seen Hope or Bailey in ‘a professional capacity.’ He seemed surprised Hope was so clean and well cared for, as if he’d seen her dirty before. He wanted to give her a shot, to sedate her.”

Meredith’s brows lifted. “Did you let him?”

“No, and he got a little huffy, asking why I’d brought her at all if I didn’t want him to treat her. But I didn’t like the idea of drugging a child if you don’t need to. She wasn’t violent and there seemed no danger of her hurting herself, so I didn’t want her drugged.”

“I agree. So all this time Hope never said a word? Are we sure she can speak?”

“The preschool says she’s very talkative, big vocabulary. In fact, she can even read.”

Meredith looked taken aback. “Wow. She’s what, four?”

“Barely. The preschool said Bailey read to Hope every night. Meredith, none of this feels like a junkie abandoning her child.”

“You think foul play, too.”

Something in Meredith’s voice rubbed Alex wrong. “Don’t you?” she demanded.

Meredith was unperturbed. “I don’t know. I know you’ve always given Bailey the benefit of the doubt. But now this isn’t just about Bailey, it’s about Hope and what’s best for her. Are you going to bring her home? To your home, I mean?”

Alex thought of the little apartment she only slept in. Richard had kept the house. Alex hadn’t wanted it. But her apartment was big enough for herself and one small child. “That’s my intent, yes. But Meredith, if something did happen to Bailey… I mean, if she has changed and she’s met with some harm…”

“What will you do?”

“I don’t know yet. I couldn’t get anywhere with the police over the phone and I couldn’t leave Hope alone to go in person. Can you stay with me for a few days? Help me with Hope while I check this out?”

“I had all the appointments with my most critical patients moved to Wednesday before I left. I have to fly back late Tuesday night. It’s the best I can do for now.”

“It’s a lot. Thank you.”

Meredith squeezed her hand. “Now go get some sleep. I’ll sleep here on the sofa. If you need me, wake me up.”

“I’ll sleep in there with Hope. I’m just praying she sleeps through the night. So far she hasn’t slept more than a few hours at a time, then she wakes up and colors. If she needs you, I’ll let you know.”

“I wasn’t talking about Hope needing me. I was talking about you. Now go to sleep.”

Atlanta , Sunday, January 28, 10:45 p.m.

Daniel, I think your dog is dead.” The voice came from Daniel’s living room and it belonged to fellow GBI investigator Luke Papadopoulos. Luke was also quite possibly Daniel’s best friend, despite his being the reason Daniel owned the dog to begin with.

Daniel slid the last plate into the dishwasher, then went to the doorway to his living room. Luke sat on the sofa, watching ESPN. Riley the basset hound lounged at Luke’s feet, looking like he normally did. Which, Daniel had to agree, was like a dog who’d gone on to meet his Maker. “Offer him a pork chop, he’ll perk up.”

Riley opened one eye at the mention of a pork chop, but closed it again, knowing he probably wouldn’t get one. Riley was a pessimistic realist. He and Daniel got along well.

“Hell, I just offered him some of the moussaka, and he still didn’t perk up,” Luke said.

Daniel was able to visualize the results of such an irresponsible action all too well. “Riley can’t have your mom’s cooking. It’s way too rich and that’s bad for his stomach.”

“I know. He got into some leftovers while you were gone up north and he was staying with me.” Luke winced. “It wasn’t pretty, trust me.”

Daniel rolled his eyes. “I’m not paying your carpet-cleaning bill, Luke.”

“It’s okay. My cousin owns his own carpet-cleaning business. I got it taken care of.”

“If you knew, then why for God’s sake did you try to feed him tonight?”

Luke gently nudged Riley’s butt with the toe of his boot. “He always looks so sad.”

“Sad” in Luke’s family meant “feed me.” Which explained Luke’s showing up on Daniel’s doorstep tonight with a full Greek meal when Daniel knew full well he’d had to break a date with his on-again-off-again flight attendant girlfriend to do so. Mama Papadopoulos had been worried about Daniel since he’d returned from Philadelphia the week before. Luke’s mama had a kind heart, but Mama Papa’s food did not agree with Riley, and Daniel did not have a cousin with his own carpet-cleaning business.

“He’s a damn basset hound. They all look that way. Riley’s not sad, so stop feeding him.” Daniel sat in his recliner and whistled. Riley trotted over and plopped at his feet with a huge sigh, as if the four-foot trek had tired him out. “I know how you feel, boy.”

Luke was quiet a moment. “I hear you pulled a tough one tonight.”

Daniel’s mind immediately conjured the victim in the ditch. “You could say that.” Abruptly he frowned. “How did you hear about that already?”

Luke looked uncomfortable. “Ed Randall called. He was worried about you. Your first day back and you pull a case like the Arcadia woman.”

Daniel swallowed his irritation. They all meant well. “So you brought me food.”

“Nah, Mama had that all prepared before Ed called. She’s worried about you, too. I’ll tell her you ate a second helping and that you’re doing all right. So, are you all right?”

“I have to be. There’s work to be done.”

“You could have taken more time off. A week’s not that much, considering.”

Considering he’d had to bury his parents. “When you add in the week I was in Philly looking for them, I’ve been out for two weeks. That’s long enough.” He leaned over to scratch Riley’s ears. “If I don’t work, I’ll go crazy,” he added quietly.

“It wasn’t your fault, Daniel.”

“No, not directly. But I knew what Simon was a long time before now.”

“And you thought he was dead for the last twelve years.”

Daniel conceded the point. “There is that.”

“If you ask me, I’d say your father carried most of the blame. After Simon, of course.”

Seventeen people. Simon had taken seventeen lives, with one old woman still holding on in cardiac intensive care in Philadelphia. But Daniel’s father had not only known Simon was evil, he’d known Simon was alive. Twelve years ago Arthur Vartanian had banished his younger son and told the world he’d died. He’d even buried a stranger in the family plot and erected Simon’s tombstone, leaving Simon free to roam, doing whatever he wished, as long as it wasn’t under the Vartanian name.

“Seventeen people,” Daniel murmured, and wondered if they weren’t the tip of the iceberg. He thought of the pictures that were never far from the front of his mind. The pictures Simon had left behind. The faces flashed before his eyes like a slide show. All female. Nameless victims of rape.

Just like the victim today. He had to see that the Arcadia victim got a name. That she got justice. It was the only way he’d stay sane. “One of the Arcadia officers mentioned a similar murder thirteen years ago. I was working on checking it out when you got here. It happened in Dutton.”

Luke’s brows came way down. “Dutton? Daniel, you grew up in Dutton.”

“Thanks. I’d forgotten that fact,” Daniel said sarcastically. “I looked in our database back at the office when I filed my report earlier tonight, but GBI didn’t investigate, so it wasn’t there. I called Frank Loomis, the sheriff in Dutton, but he hasn’t returned my call yet. And I didn’t want to call one of the deputies. If it hadn’t been anything, I would have added fuel to the fire. Bastard reporters are crawling all over the damn place.”