Gray turned on Branson, demanding, “Who do you think is the mole? Vickery and Franklin were nearly killed tonight. Adams was attacked. Eric Haigh was tortured before he was murdered.” He added, “Why do you think that is, Denise? Why do you think they tortured him?” He answered his own question. “They’re looking for the boy. If they had someone on the inside, they wouldn’t have to torture cops for information.”
Branson looked down at the table. The room went silent.
Will thought about Lena Adams in the ICU. She had told Will that he would eventually find out she was doing the right thing. She had said the words as if they would redeem all the ills that came before. Had she thought that saving the boy would make up for losing her baby? Or was it simply a matter of Lena’s eternal conviction that everything she did was for the greater good?
Will asked, “Does Lena know where the boy is?”
“I sure as hell don’t,” Gray interrupted. Will tried again, asking, “Does she?”
Branson shook her head. “Lena has no idea. I let her believe the state was already involved, that we had to be quiet about what happened to keep him safe. I doubt she even told Jared.”
Gray realized, “She lied to Internal Affairs. None of this was mentioned during any of her interviews.” He sounded disgusted. “Jesus Christ, Denise. You forced her to lie on record.”
Branson defended, “Lena was protecting the boy. She knew what Big Whitey would do if he found out there was a witness.”
“And I assume you let her believe I was okay with this?” Gray waved away any response Branson might come up with. “For the love of God. I can’t believe I trusted you.”
Faith said, “Obviously someone figured out the boy was alive. Why else attack Lena in the middle of the night? Why else go after the rest of the team that was there during the raid?” She told Branson, “Thanks for wasting my fucking time and nearly getting my partner killed.”
Amanda took over. “Where is this boy now?”
Gray turned to his former confidant, making a show of waiting for an answer.
Branson equivocated. She told Amanda, “I’d rather not say on an open line, but I’ll take your people to him as soon as this is over.”
Surprisingly, Amanda didn’t argue. “Denise, tell your paramedics to get ready for transport. We’ll keep it quiet, but we have to move that boy to Atlanta.”
Branson’s inner cop took over. “Logistics might take a while. We’ll need to get an ambulance. My paramedics are working alternating shifts. Dr. Thomas will need to get him ready.”
Amanda moved a split second ahead of Will. “Sara Linton’s still down there, right?”
Faith looked at Will. She answered, “Right.”
Amanda said, “Will, do whatever it takes to get Sara in that ambulance to Atlanta. If there really is a leak down there, we need to use our own people as much as we can.”
His mouth went dry. He couldn’t swallow again.
Amanda took his silence for agreement. “We still have an active manhunt for Tony Dell. Even if the boy won’t talk, we might be able to flip Dell. Again. Will, what time does your shift start?”
Will had forgotten about Bill Black’s hospital job. “Eight.”
“Don’t go in early. Maintain your cover. You’re a con. Dell is on the move. There’s a heavy police presence. It would make sense for you to start asking questions.”
He said, “There’s a nurse I’ve been working. Dell’s stepsister. She knows I was sent up for assault. I think if I work it right, I can scare her into talking.”
“Terrorize her if that’s what it takes.” Amanda seemed ready to get started. “Lonnie, I’ll be in touch.”
“Thank you,” Gray said. “I appreciate your—”
“Sir.” Nick was apologetic. “She already terminated the connection.”
Chief Gray didn’t bother with formalities. He turned on Branson like a raging lion. “You have some nerve, lady. Make me come here in the middle of the night like I’m some goddamn schoolboy being called to the principal’s office. Make me look like a fool in front of one of the most respected peace officers in the state. And I gather you’ll still refuse to tell me the boy’s location?” He waited for her to answer. When it was clear she wouldn’t, he mumbled, “You worthless piece of shit. It sickens me to think you ever wore the uniform.”
Tears came into Branson’s eyes as she tried, “Sir, with all due respect—”
“You don’t know the meaning of the word.” Gray snatched his hat off the table. “Human Resources will be in touch. Don’t try to reach out to me or any of my officers. Don’t try to plead your case. Don’t even say my name. As far as I’m concerned, your involvement
with me and my department is over.” He stormed out of the room.
Branson’s throat worked. She looked down, pressing her palms flat to the table like she needed a moment to collect herself.
Faith didn’t give her the time. “You’re gay?”
Will was surprised by the bluntness of the question. Branson seemed ashamed. She looked away, her head turned to the wall.
Faith said, “Jared Long got a call from you on his cell phone a few minutes before he was attacked.”
Branson seemed to understand. She wiped the tears from her eyes. “You thought I was two-timing with him.”
“Why else would you be calling Lena’s husband in the middle of the night?”
“I was worried about her. Something wasn’t right.”
“Because of the raid?”
“No, before that. She was just—” Branson tried to find the right words. “We’re friends. That’s
all
we are. But something’s been wrong with Lena for a while. She was happy, pumped about taking down Waller, and then when it all came together, she just got sad. She wouldn’t talk to me about it. I thought maybe Jared could tell me what was going on.”
Will guessed that Lena hadn’t told Denise Branson about the baby.
Faith quickly moved on. “Where are you keeping the boy?”
Branson took a deep breath. She held it for a while. Will could see the turmoil in her face. Every second of her life for the last eight days had been devoted to keeping the boy safe. She’d risked alienating her friends, losing her job, pissing off her chief. No cop ever wanted to hand over a case, especially one that ripped at their heart.
“Okay,” Branson finally said. “We’re keeping him at my girlfriend’s farm.”
“The sheriff’s deputy?”
“Yes. She works two counties over. We’ve been together about a year. Nobody knows about us.”
“Good,” Faith said. “How far away is the farm?”
“Not far, but it’s gonna take some time to put this together. We don’t make phone calls. As you clearly know, all calls can be traced, even blocked ones. I didn’t want any of their numbers showing up on my line. We check in on a message board for gay first responders.” Branson looked at her watch. “Dr. Thomas comes in at six before he goes to work. My ex is already there—one of the paramedics. Her girlfriend will come at six to relieve her. My deputy is spelling me. I was supposed to take the night shift, but then the shit hit the fan.”
Faith checked her own watch. “So, everyone will be there in a little over two hours?”
“Unless they read the message boards at four in the morning.” She asked Nick, “Can I use your laptop?”
Nick offered, “The computer in my office is more private.” He scooped up the Big Whitey files, telling Faith, “I’ll get started on these.”
Branson followed him to the door, but she didn’t leave. “I’m sorry for wasting y’alls time. I always try to be tough as I need to be, never tougher than I have to be.”
Will nodded, but Faith wouldn’t give an inch. She waited for Branson to leave, then blew out a puff of air.
Will said, “What do you think?”
“I think Tony Dell’s closer to Big Whitey than we thought.” He nodded, though they both knew that’s not what he was asking about.
“Whoever this Big Whitey is, he’s a freaking genius.” Faith couldn’t keep the admiration out of her voice. “He played them like a fiddle.”
“The two men in the house.” Will coughed a few times before he could continue. “I could see Tony slitting their throats, then
going after the third guy with an ax. He’s a killer. He likes using his hands. He takes out the three of them, puts the brace on the basement door so Sid Waller’s trapped, then he walks away.”
“He was feeding Lena intel. He knew when the raid was going to happen.” Faith waited out another coughing fit. “You still think Tony’s not Big Whitey?”
Will gagged down some water. “I don’t know what to think anymore. He’s more like the point at the edge of somebody else’s sword.” Will coughed again. “And I know he’s got that weird thing with his sister. Stepsister. But I can’t see him with little boys. He couldn’t stand to be in the same room with his own nephew.”
“You never know what people get up to,” Faith said. “Do you think the stepsister knows anything?”
Will shrugged to save his voice. He’d have to find a way to get Cayla Martin to talk. There was no other option.
Faith stared at the grainy cell phone photo on the screen. “Poor little lamb. He can’t be more than seven.”
Will didn’t want to look at the screen, but once he did, he couldn’t take his eyes off the boy. It didn’t seem possible he was still alive. How had he survived living in that dank, dark hole? And what had been done to him while he was there?
“I’ll call Sara.” Faith took out her cell phone and dialed the number.
Will opened his mouth to tell her there was no point. Nothing came out. He couldn’t speak, but not because of his sore throat. It occurred to him that the boy was not talking because he had nothing to say.
His expression in the photo told the story. The boy would never be the same again. He would never sleep as deeply or play with the same abandon. Chasing a ball, flying a kite, helping his mother set the table—none of this would ever be done without constantly checking for danger. The boy did not want to go back to his parents. They wouldn’t recognize him. They would take one look and ask who was this damaged creature and what had he done
with their real son. It was all captured in the grainy photo on the screen—the fear, the loneliness, the overwhelming shame.
Marie Sorensen had the same look. She had been stolen. She had been abused. She had been thrown away. Even when she got home, she never felt safe. She had made the only choice that was truly her own.
Will couldn’t blame her.
There wasn’t a box in the world that was big enough to contain those horrors. Everything she’d survived had made her want to die. Who could fault the boy for thinking the same thing?
“Sara’s not answering.” Faith ended the call. “Do you think she’s at the hospital?”
He didn’t answer.
Sara was finished with Will. That much was obvious. But somehow, for the brief time they were together, she had managed to change him. She had tamed his beasts. She had made him feel safe. She had made him feel whole. Sara hadn’t completely shuttered the file room, but she had made it seem further away—like someone else’s memory, someone else’s life.
Will had to tell her this, had to explain why she was so desperately needed.
“I’ll find her,” he told Faith.
If anyone could coax the boy into talking, it was Sara Linton.
“
S
ara?”
Sara turned over in bed, trying to get away from the noise. She hadn’t fallen asleep last night so much as collapsed from exhaustion.
“Sara?” Nell said. “Sara?”
Sara woke slowly, rousing from a deep, dreamless sleep. She put her hand over her eyes. “What time is it?”
“Just after four-thirty.”
Sara dropped her hand. She looked up at Nell. They were in the hotel room. After what happened with Will last night, Sara didn’t have it in her to drive back to Atlanta. “Is Jared okay?”
Nell gave an odd smile. “Possum just called. He says they’re going to wake him up. I was about to leave for the hospital.”
Sara forced herself to sit up. She hurt in all the wrong places.
“I’ll go with you.”
“You need to get the door. There’s a man who wants to talk to you.”
Sara finally managed to put together the conversation. There was only one man in Macon right now who would want to talk to her. She wasn’t sure she wanted to talk to him. Still, she brushed her fingers through her hair as she went to the door.
And then her jaw dropped when she saw Will.
For just a moment, Sara found herself thinking that she was responsible for the damage to his face.
Then she realized that he’d been beaten.
“What happened?” She reached up to him, but there was nowhere Sara could touch Will that wasn’t injured. Even the blood vessels in his eyes were broken. “Did someone choke you?”
He swallowed. The pain made him cringe. His voice was hoarse. “Amanda sent me.”
Sara could hardly understand him. “Come in.”
Will didn’t move. She grabbed his arm, pulling him into the room.
“Nell, this is a friend of mine.” Sara let herself believe she was holding back details because Will was undercover. “He lives in Atlanta.”
“Nice to meet you.” Nell dug her hand into her purse, but her eyes were on Sara’s hand, which was still wrapped around Will’s arm.
Sara let go.
Nell said, “It’s good, Sara. I’m happy for you.” She held up her keycard. “I’ll be at the hospital.”
She nodded at Will before she left. The door closed automatically, slamming hard against the metal jamb.
Sara knew it would be pointless to go after her. She asked Will, “What happened?”
He put his fingers to his larynx as if he could force up the volume. “We’ve got about an hour.”
She stared, disbelieving. “What?”
“I know you don’t want me here.” He coughed, the effort from talking obviously too much. “Amanda asked me to—” He coughed again. And again. His face started turning red.
“Sit down.” Sara was still angry, but she couldn’t let him pass out in front of her. She found a tiny bottle of Tennessee whiskey in the minibar. “Drink half of this.”
Will sat down, but he wouldn’t take the bottle. He hated alcohol.
“You won’t get drunk,” Sara told him. He still wouldn’t take it.
She stuck the bottle in his face. “Think of it as medicine. It’ll numb your throat.”