Read Online A Wicked Snow by Gregg Olsen - Free Book Online
Authors: Gregg Olsen
Tags: english
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but if I succeeded, I'd forget the good that came of this. Most of that good came from you."
Bauer didn't know what to say. He'd been an FBI agent for more than twenty-two years and he'd never been touched so deeply.
They talked a bit more. She told him that she was a CSI, was married, and had a daughter. She had worked hard, despite a media machine hungry for every detail, to remain out of the spotlight. Her life was her own and she wasn't about to be plucked from obscurity by someone playing games with her past.
"My husband's a cop," she said. "No shrink needs to tell me why, but that's what he was when I fell in love with him."
Bauer asked about the shoes, and Hannah described their condition, the grocery bag packaging, and how it came to be delivered to her. She also indicated she'd saved the packaging.
"In case you want to test it for DNA," she said.
When Bauer dug for her thoughts on why the shoes had been sent to her, Hannah drew a blank. She couldn't imagine what possessed someone to do such a thing, nor could she figure out how she could have been found in the first place. Her name had vanished from the pages of newspapers and magazines at least a dozen years ago.
"I've made my life a disappearing act," she said.
"Only one person's done it better," he said, an obvious reference to her mother. Hannah let the remark pass, knowing the two of them shared more than a history. They both believed that Claire Logan, the female boogie man, the woman whose name had been used by parents threatening their children when they didn't take out the garbage or pull all the weeds from the garden, was alive. She was out there somewhere. Maybe she was frightened that one day she'd be discovered. Maybe not. Maybe she didn't give a flying fuck about anyone, even now.
"Anything else but the package of shoes? Anything out of the ordinary happening down there?" Bauer asked.
"I'm not sure," Hannah said, hesitating slightly. "I didn't tell Judge Paine. I haven't told anyone. Not even my husband. But I have received a number of hang-up calls over the past month. Maybe a half dozen or so. I started keeping a log in my date book."
"Anything said? Anything to indicate any calls were associated with your mother's case?"
Silence fell for a moment. "Only one got through. The receptionist gave me a message memo that a call came from my mother. It was out of the blue. Just like that. Your mother called. I didn't say anything at the time because..." her voice went quiet once more. "Because," she took in a breath, "I didn't know how to explain why I was alarmed my mother had called. I thought, at first, that it was a mistake."
"I see. What of the hang-ups? At the office? At home?"
"Both--which is the troubling part. Our home number is unlisted. When I tried to trace the call back by using the redial function, the operator said that the call was 'out of area.' There have been a few cases of my own, including one I'm working now, in which people weren't happy with me. But those calls are local and are stopped easily."
She was thinking of Joanne Garcia. Joanne had called four times with epithets and threats since the investigation into her son's death and daughter's abuse had begun. She had even promised to make sure that Hannah didn't "dig up anyone else's baby." A visit from Ripp indicating that obstruction of justice charges could be filed against her had put the brakes on Garcia's campaign for revenge.
"Hannah?" Bauer's voice cut in. "You still there?"
Snapped back into the conversation, she apologized. She said she'd been distracted by someone outside her office.
"I'll send an agent from the L.A. office to get the package," he said.
"Fine. I'll be here most of the day. But Mr. Bauer--"
"Jeff," he cut in.
"Okay, though it sounds peculiar, Jeff , be discreet. Outside of Ethan no one knows I'm Claire Logan's daughter. I intend to keep it that way. For good."
"Understood," he said, "but I think you should know something from this end. I
Bauer didn't know what to say. He'd been an FBI agent for more than twenty-two years and he'd never been touched so deeply.
They talked a bit more. She told him that she was a CSI, was married, and had a daughter. She had worked hard, despite a media machine hungry for every detail, to remain out of the spotlight. Her life was her own and she wasn't about to be plucked from obscurity by someone playing games with her past.
"My husband's a cop," she said. "No shrink needs to tell me why, but that's what he was when I fell in love with him."
Bauer asked about the shoes, and Hannah described their condition, the grocery bag packaging, and how it came to be delivered to her. She also indicated she'd saved the packaging.
"In case you want to test it for DNA," she said.
When Bauer dug for her thoughts on why the shoes had been sent to her, Hannah drew a blank. She couldn't imagine what possessed someone to do such a thing, nor could she figure out how she could have been found in the first place. Her name had vanished from the pages of newspapers and magazines at least a dozen years ago.
"I've made my life a disappearing act," she said.
"Only one person's done it better," he said, an obvious reference to her mother. Hannah let the remark pass, knowing the two of them shared more than a history. They both believed that Claire Logan, the female boogie man, the woman whose name had been used by parents threatening their children when they didn't take out the garbage or pull all the weeds from the garden, was alive. She was out there somewhere. Maybe she was frightened that one day she'd be discovered. Maybe not. Maybe she didn't give a flying fuck about anyone, even now.
"Anything else but the package of shoes? Anything out of the ordinary happening down there?" Bauer asked.
"I'm not sure," Hannah said, hesitating slightly. "I didn't tell Judge Paine. I haven't told anyone. Not even my husband. But I have received a number of hang-up calls over the past month. Maybe a half dozen or so. I started keeping a log in my date book."
"Anything said? Anything to indicate any calls were associated with your mother's case?"
Silence fell for a moment. "Only one got through. The receptionist gave me a message memo that a call came from my mother. It was out of the blue. Just like that. Your mother called. I didn't say anything at the time because..." her voice went quiet once more. "Because," she took in a breath, "I didn't know how to explain why I was alarmed my mother had called. I thought, at first, that it was a mistake."
"I see. What of the hang-ups? At the office? At home?"
"Both--which is the troubling part. Our home number is unlisted. When I tried to trace the call back by using the redial function, the operator said that the call was 'out of area.' There have been a few cases of my own, including one I'm working now, in which people weren't happy with me. But those calls are local and are stopped easily."
She was thinking of Joanne Garcia. Joanne had called four times with epithets and threats since the investigation into her son's death and daughter's abuse had begun. She had even promised to make sure that Hannah didn't "dig up anyone else's baby." A visit from Ripp indicating that obstruction of justice charges could be filed against her had put the brakes on Garcia's campaign for revenge.
"Hannah?" Bauer's voice cut in. "You still there?"
Snapped back into the conversation, she apologized. She said she'd been distracted by someone outside her office.
"I'll send an agent from the L.A. office to get the package," he said.
"Fine. I'll be here most of the day. But Mr. Bauer--"
"Jeff," he cut in.
"Okay, though it sounds peculiar, Jeff , be discreet. Outside of Ethan no one knows I'm Claire Logan's daughter. I intend to keep it that way. For good."
"Understood," he said, "but I think you should know something from this end. I
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