thought of touching her hair, of caressing her cheek . . . because the thought had actually entered his mind, Daniel shoved his hands into his pockets. She flinched when he moved. She’d been aware of him, even if she hadn’t been looking at him. “Where do you live, Miss Fallon?”
She turned, just enough so that she could see over her shoulder. “Cincinnati.”
“Where you’re a nurse?”
“Yes. I work in the ER.”
“Tough job.”
“As is yours.”
“You don’t use the name Tremaine.”
A muscle moved in her throat as she swallowed. “No. I had it changed.”
“When you got married?” he asked and realized he was holding his breath.
“I’m not married. I was adopted by my aunt and uncle after my sister died.” Her tone dared him to push further, so he turned the conversation a different way.
She wasn’t married. It didn’t matter. But it did. Deep down, he knew that it mattered very much. “You said your stepsister has a child. You called her Hope.”
“Yes. Hope is four. Social Services found her hiding in a closet Friday morning.”
“The locals think Bailey abandoned her daughter?”
Her jaw tightened, as did her fists. Even in the dim light, he could see her knuckles whiten. “That’s what they think. Hope’s teachers said Bailey would never have left her.”
“So you came straight down to take care of the child?”
She did look at him then, straight and long, and he knew he wouldn’t have been able to look away if he’d tried. Alex Fallon had an inner strength, a purpose . . . whatever it was, it demanded his attention. “Yes. Until Bailey’s found. One way or another.”
He knew it was a bad idea, nevertheless he took her hand and uncurled her fingers. Her neat, unpolished nails had left deep gouges in the tender flesh of her palm. Gently he rubbed the creases with his thumbs. “And if Bailey’s never found?” he murmured.
She looked down at his hands holding hers, then back up to meet his eyes, and his nerves fired in a chain reaction that seemed to singe his skin. There was a connection here, a tie, an affinity that he’d never experienced before. “Then Hope will be my child and she’ll never be alone and afraid again,” she said quietly but resolutely, leaving no doubt in his mind that she would keep her promise.
And suddenly he was swallowing hard. “I hope you get closure, Miss Fallon.”
The grim line of her mouth softened, not a smile, but still softer. “Thank you.”
He held her hand another few seconds, then released her as Felicity came back in.
Felicity glanced from Daniel to Alex Fallon, her eyes narrowing slightly. “We’re ready, Miss Fallon. We won’t show you her face, all right?”
Alex Fallon nodded. “I understand.”
Felicity pulled the curtain about two-thirds of the way across. Malcolm Zuckerman was on the other side of the glass. Felicity leaned into the speaker. “Let’s begin.”
Malcolm pulled the sheet to the side, revealing the right side of the victim.
“Agent Vartanian said your stepsister had a tattoo,” Felicity said quietly. “I checked myself and saw no scarring. There’s no evidence there was ever a tattoo on that ankle.”
She nodded again. “Thank you. Can he show me the inside of her arm?”
“I didn’t see evidence of needle scarring, either,” Felicity said as Malcolm complied.
Her shoulders finally relaxed and she trembled visibly. “It’s not Bailey.” She met Daniel’s eyes and in hers he saw a raging combination of sympathy, regret, and relief. “You still have an unidentified victim, Agent Vartanian. I’m sorry about that.”
He smiled, but sadly. “I’m glad it’s not your stepsister.”
Felicity pulled the curtain back over the window. “I’ll be starting the autopsy in a few minutes, Daniel. Should I wait for you?”
“If you wouldn’t mind. Thanks, Doc.” He waited until Felicity was gone, then stood up and put his hands in his pockets. Alex Fallon still trembled and he
She turned, just enough so that she could see over her shoulder. “Cincinnati.”
“Where you’re a nurse?”
“Yes. I work in the ER.”
“Tough job.”
“As is yours.”
“You don’t use the name Tremaine.”
A muscle moved in her throat as she swallowed. “No. I had it changed.”
“When you got married?” he asked and realized he was holding his breath.
“I’m not married. I was adopted by my aunt and uncle after my sister died.” Her tone dared him to push further, so he turned the conversation a different way.
She wasn’t married. It didn’t matter. But it did. Deep down, he knew that it mattered very much. “You said your stepsister has a child. You called her Hope.”
“Yes. Hope is four. Social Services found her hiding in a closet Friday morning.”
“The locals think Bailey abandoned her daughter?”
Her jaw tightened, as did her fists. Even in the dim light, he could see her knuckles whiten. “That’s what they think. Hope’s teachers said Bailey would never have left her.”
“So you came straight down to take care of the child?”
She did look at him then, straight and long, and he knew he wouldn’t have been able to look away if he’d tried. Alex Fallon had an inner strength, a purpose . . . whatever it was, it demanded his attention. “Yes. Until Bailey’s found. One way or another.”
He knew it was a bad idea, nevertheless he took her hand and uncurled her fingers. Her neat, unpolished nails had left deep gouges in the tender flesh of her palm. Gently he rubbed the creases with his thumbs. “And if Bailey’s never found?” he murmured.
She looked down at his hands holding hers, then back up to meet his eyes, and his nerves fired in a chain reaction that seemed to singe his skin. There was a connection here, a tie, an affinity that he’d never experienced before. “Then Hope will be my child and she’ll never be alone and afraid again,” she said quietly but resolutely, leaving no doubt in his mind that she would keep her promise.
And suddenly he was swallowing hard. “I hope you get closure, Miss Fallon.”
The grim line of her mouth softened, not a smile, but still softer. “Thank you.”
He held her hand another few seconds, then released her as Felicity came back in.
Felicity glanced from Daniel to Alex Fallon, her eyes narrowing slightly. “We’re ready, Miss Fallon. We won’t show you her face, all right?”
Alex Fallon nodded. “I understand.”
Felicity pulled the curtain about two-thirds of the way across. Malcolm Zuckerman was on the other side of the glass. Felicity leaned into the speaker. “Let’s begin.”
Malcolm pulled the sheet to the side, revealing the right side of the victim.
“Agent Vartanian said your stepsister had a tattoo,” Felicity said quietly. “I checked myself and saw no scarring. There’s no evidence there was ever a tattoo on that ankle.”
She nodded again. “Thank you. Can he show me the inside of her arm?”
“I didn’t see evidence of needle scarring, either,” Felicity said as Malcolm complied.
Her shoulders finally relaxed and she trembled visibly. “It’s not Bailey.” She met Daniel’s eyes and in hers he saw a raging combination of sympathy, regret, and relief. “You still have an unidentified victim, Agent Vartanian. I’m sorry about that.”
He smiled, but sadly. “I’m glad it’s not your stepsister.”
Felicity pulled the curtain back over the window. “I’ll be starting the autopsy in a few minutes, Daniel. Should I wait for you?”
“If you wouldn’t mind. Thanks, Doc.” He waited until Felicity was gone, then stood up and put his hands in his pockets. Alex Fallon still trembled and he
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