The Girl and the Deadly End (Emma Griffin FBI Mystery Book 7) Read online

  Copyright © 2020 by A.J. Rivers

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  The Girl and the Deadly End

  A.J. Rivers

  Contents

  The Girl and the Deadly End

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Epilogue

  Staying In Touch With A.J.

  More Emma Griffin FBI Mysteries

  The Girl and the Deadly End

  Prologue

  Two years ago…

  He never thought he would be here again. Feathered Nest, a little town of secrets. He never thought he would see these trees bloom new and green again in the February sun. The sun was still bright. That never changed. Spring weather had melted away the icy edges of winter. There was still enough cool in the air for him to pull the collar of his jacket up over the back of his neck and appreciate the warmth from a cup of ink-black coffee on his palms after returning from walking the trails in the forest.

  He never got used to the shift in weather from place to place. He could go for weeks at a time, spending only a couple of days here or there in any given climate, yet it always seemed like a shock to shift from place to place. The last time he’d been here, it had only been for a few days, and it would be the same now. Once his work was done here, the gradually thawing Virginia spring would soon disappear into the already stifling heat of Florida. He’d get only a day there, then jump to the top of the country, still buried in the snow.

  But that jump would never happen. He didn’t know yet that he’d never see the snow.

  His heart started beating harder the further he drove down the narrow, winding road. He’d been down it so many times he could have done it without looking, but he knew this would be his last time. This was to bring closure. To end what started sixteen years before. He never meant for it to take this long. He never meant for Emma to go through all of this.

  The crunch of the gravel under his tires slowed and stopped. A breath dragged into his lungs, bringing in the heat rolling off the car’s engine. He looked at the cabin in front of him. There was little daylight left, but what was still there illuminated years of change on the slumbering building. It wasn’t what it used to be. It never would be again.

  But if he closed his eyes, it could all come back. He could see Mariya walking to the bottom of the steps. Turning to glance over her shoulder at him, her blonde hair shimmering in the sunlight. Even this far away, he could see the blue of her eyes. It had been so many years since she’d danced, but her body never forgot it. Every movement was fluid and smooth, almost like it was choreographed. In many ways it was. Everything she did was carefully planned. Precise, neat. Everything went exactly according to plan. Everything was exactly where it was supposed to be. There was too much risk involved to gamble anything.

  She always thought about the risk for the others. Those who had faced enough risk and who relied on her to rescue them from it. Never once did she think of the risk to herself. It just never crossed her mind. Or, at least, she never would admit to it. She never shared it with him. Or Ian, or anyone. The danger was an illusion, and her work was too important to hold it in her mind.

  But he never thought about anything but. The danger was his life. He absorbed the danger so she could live her life without fear. That was his purpose, his entire reason for being.

  That time with her, so many years ago, wasn’t the first time he saw the cabin, but it was supposed to be the last. She was there to say the work was done and to be seen there one more time. After that, she would return twice more, but not to the cabin. That way, no one would make the connection. Without a thread, nothing could unravel.

  But their plans had been destroyed. The monster came for her first. And he didn’t see it coming.

  It took him sixteen years, but he found his way back.

  He wanted to stay there, but he couldn’t risk being seen yet. He still had to wait, but the train had arrived on schedule, so it wouldn’t be long. Backing down the drive, he paid close attention to his surroundings. He wasn’t fully out of the woods when he noticed movement to one side. Something was there. It moved like a flash across his periphery, but he knew better than to stop and look. All too often, a signal for help is nothing more than bait. Instead, he kept his eyes focused ahead and drove out of town.

  His eyes flicked up to his rearview mirror. The car behind him was there each time. Sometimes close enough for him to see the swell of the dark blue top, sometimes falling back so far, he could only see the exhaust. He didn’t feel his stomach sink until it fell out of sight. Leviathan were closing in now. They’d been hunting him for almost a year, and he knew coming here would put him in their crosshairs. But he couldn’t avoid it. This is what had to be done. No matter how it ended.

  There were only a few cars in the parking lot of the hotel. He swept the area cautiously, checking each one to ensure they were empty, then settled in a remote spot of his own. He sat in the parking spot through three breaths, then went inside. The woman at the desk smiled at him brightly, but he didn’t return the greeting.

  “Can I help you?”

  “I’d like a room,” he said.

  “Just you?”

  He breathed in the question and held the words in his chest until they burned.

  “Yes.”

  “How long will you be staying with me?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Not a problem. You just let me know.” She reached into a drawer in front of her and pulled out a card that she slid across the counter toward him. “If you could fill this out for me, I’ll get your key for you.”

  He stared at the registration card, the tip of his pen hovering just above the line for his name.

  Ron Murdock.

  The line for his address stopped him. He could have left it blank. But the dark blue car hovered in the back of his mind, with the images of movement just outside of his vision and the sense of eyes crawling along his back. They were getting closer. But that wouldn’t stop him. He had only one focus now.

  Emma.

  He wrote down an address that wouldn’t lead her to his home, but to hers. One she might not remember, but that was crucial for her to understand. She needed to know who she really was and where she came from. She deserved to know what happened to her mother.

  Sixt
een years. That’s how long Emma had wondered. Those questions shaped her life. They would continue to twist it, destroying who she was and could be, until she had the answers. He wanted her to know who her mother was and what really happened that night and the days after. He needed her to know why her life had changed.

  If she was anything like Mariya or Ian, she would find what he left for her, even if she never heard his voice.

  He accepted the keycard and made his way to the elevator. It stopped on the top floor, and he walked out into a dark hallway. Beside him, the sound of the elevator grinding back down to the floor below started the clock. Time ticked by, second by second, as he looked for the emergency exit. Dark carpeting barely dampened the sound of his boots as he ran to the end of the hallway and slipped through the door to the staircase. Swinging himself over the metal railing, he dropped down on the flight below, so he could exit onto the floor and hit the elevator button. Metal doors closed in front of him as the time ticked lower. He counted his breaths.

  The woman at the desk watched him walk through the lobby and out through the doors into the parking lot. He was steady and calm. She wouldn’t see anyone else. The steps led to the back of the hotel, to the emergency exit.

  He got into his car and headed for the woods. Heartbeats throbbed the passing seconds against his temples and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. The train arrived half an hour ago. He needed to get back to the cabin.

  His eyes flickered to the rearview mirror to check for the navy-blue car. It wasn’t there. Not yet.

  He took turns he didn’t need to, ran lights like they weren’t there. It made his trip longer, but it might steal him time.

  The woods were dark by the time he barreled into them and cut the lights. Dropping the glove compartment open, he tore the corner of a piece of paper and took out a pen. One more clue. Just in case. She needed to know he knew who she was.

  Emma Griffin.

  Tossing the pen back in the glove compartment, he took his phone out of his pocket. Typing a message, he sent it and slipped the phone in with the pen. He threw the keys under the driver’s seat and headed into the woods. The winter air bit at his skin as he headed for the cabin. Lights sweeping through the darkness stopped his steps.

  He stuffed the paper low in his pocket and ran. A car door slammed, and footsteps crushed leaves and branches to one side. Breaths pumped out white and opaque against the night, caught briefly in the moonlight as he broke out of the trees onto a well-worn path. Another train called in the distance, orienting him.

  The cabin was behind him. He went too far.

  But he didn’t get a chance to turn. Before he even heard the sound of the bullet leaving the gun, he felt it slicing through the air into him. Pain seared into his back, lighting his muscles on fire. He pitched forward roughly, clattering to the ground in a convulsing heap. The impact knocked the breath out of him, but he fought to drag it back. He could dimly hear the sound of footsteps approaching. But these stopped when more came from the other direction. Someone was coming, and the man hunting him wasn’t expecting it.

  The shooter ran, leaving him for dead, but he kept drawing in breaths. Slow and steady, not noticeable. He stayed only until the footsteps faded into the night. He stumbled to his feet, still wracked with pain, and looked into the trees in front of him, trying to see who was there. Something moved. A dark figure stepping from behind a tree to look at him. It was only for a second before it melted into the darkness. Maybe it hadn’t been there at all.

  He turned, counting the seconds, counting the breaths, and pushed through the trees again. The cabin was in the distance. Close enough now to see the edges silhouetted against the dark. The glow of the outside light stood out against the moonlight, showing just the front of the car in the driveway. She was there.

  Everything around him was fading. His vision blurred. His steps slowed. But he talked to her. She couldn’t hear him, but he needed to say the words.

  “It was raining when you were born, Emma. Your parents wanted you so much. Your mother… she didn’t want to call anyone. She thought she had more time before you came. Someone was waiting for her, and she wanted to go, but your father and I stopped her. If we hadn’t, you would’ve been born on a plane. You came so fast. I heard your first cries. The midwife said it would be a few hours, but it was only minutes. You started making your own rules then, and you never stopped, just like your mother. She was more amazing than you ever knew. You are her only child, the only person on this Earth she created. But there are so many lives that exist because of her.”

  That brought him to the bottom of the steps. His voice was faint now, riding out on breaths he could barely bring in anymore. They were taking the air from his fingertips, from deep in his toes.

  “The woman that was waiting for her only had to wait three more days. Just long enough to get your birth certificate.”

  He forced himself up the first step.

  “She had a daughter two years later. That girl has three children now. They exist because of your mother.”

  He made it up the second step and gripped the wooden handrail so hard a splinter cut into his skin. But the new pain kept him awake.

  “She loved you so much. She did everything to protect you. That’s why she didn’t tell you. To protect you. She knew it confused you, and she hated that. She was going to tell you everything when you turned eighteen.”

  He made it onto the third step. The words were just thoughts now.

  “She was looking forward to Easter. She was taking a sabbatical. I should have been there. I was waiting where she told me. I should have been there.”

  His fist came out of his pocket, gripping the paper and lifted to knock. One more breath drained from his lungs. Her face was the last thing he saw. She looked so much like her mother. But her eyes. They were just like her father’s.

  Chapter One

  Now

  “A few hours after breakfast. That’s the last time I saw Martin,” I say.

  I’m on the couch in Greg’s room, still mulling over what happened earlier today with Sam, Eric, Bellamy, and Dean. The hospital staff keeps wanting to check on me, but I’m fine. This is the first time we’ve been able to talk about this in hours without someone butting in.

  “Start from the beginning. Did he seem agitated at all?“ Sam asks.

  “No. When I first saw him around breakfast time, he was perfectly calm. He was already there when I woke up and had breakfast waiting for me. I asked him some questions about Greg and how they’ve been keeping the floor under control. There’s still a lot of questions about how the two agents who were supposed to be with Greg ended up being relieved of their duties the day my father’s brother showed up here. The only thing Martin could think of is the head nurse made the call. He told me about the agents sitting with Greg, and camping out on the cots in the break room for a few hours in between shifts when they are short staffed. He was fine. He wasn’t acting any differently than he had been since the first day I came here. Always helpful and friendly. I’m sure he would have stood around and answered more questions if I wanted him to, but I knew he needed to go see to other patients. He was totally calm when he walked out.”

  “Then you showered?” Sam asks.

  “Yes. I showered and then sat down and started talking to Eric about a cold case I had him look into for me. We poured over the case for a couple of hours before Eric left, and Martin brought me a cup of coffee. But I made it too sweet and couldn’t drink it all, so when Agent Jones got here, I went to get another cup of coffee and grabbed a turkey sandwich. I told Agent Jones he could go home and sat down to start eating when Dean called. He was just telling me what he found in Feathered Nest, and I started to feel really strange. I couldn’t focus and was so tired I couldn’t keep my eyes open. The next thing I knew, I was on a gurney. I could feel it rolling, but I couldn’t see anything,” I continue. “I don’t know when that was or how I got out of the room. Wait… what about the camera? Has
anyone checked the feed from the camera?”

  “It’s gone,” Dean says, pointing up to the corner of the room where the camera is.

  “What do you mean, gone?” I frown and turn to Eric. “I specifically told you to put it back when you checked it out.”

  “I did,” he offers. “The camera is there, but the stream was disconnected.”

  “It seems Catch Me got bored with that particular game,” sighs Dean.

  “When?” I ask. “When did the feed stop?”

  “Not sure exactly. It’s just not available,” Eric replies. “I’ll get working on that.”

  “You think Martin has been Catch Me all this time?” Sam asks.

  I shake my head, still thinking and trying to figure out what happened. “No. It’s not him.”

  “What do you mean, it’s not him? He obviously drugged you and stuffed you in the morgue. You think it’s just a coincidence you get half-frozen right at the same time he disappears?”

  “Exactly.”

  “That… isn’t actually an answer to the question he asked,” Dean points out.

  “Yes, it is,” Bellamy tells him. “She’s thinking. You haven’t been around her enough to recognize that.”

  I roll my eyes. “If we could focus on this right now, it would be great. We can reschedule the… spitting contest for later.”