“Dolly.” He gave me a crooked smile, rolling up his other sleeve. “I call her Doll for short.”
“That’s cute.”
I thought of the name Gran called me as I wrote Dolly across the top, telling his little girl to always reach for her dreams, and signed my name below before I handed it back to him.
“That’s real nice of you, Pearl.” He read my note. “She’ll be so pleased.”
“Happy to do it.” I waved again. “Have a good day.”
I was headed toward the train station again, my smile still so wide, wondering if running into that man was a sign. Maybe of good things to come, like the auditions I had tomorrow morning. The thought of that, of reading lines in front of a room full of people, made me so nervous. But visualizing that man telling his daughter about me, how he’d seen me on the street, could definitely shake some of my anxious energy.
A moment from a monumental day, and that was what I would concentrate on instead of the anxiety in my chest.
But those plans were quickly interrupted when a hand slapped over my lips. There was something on the inside of his palm that he shoved into my mouth, holding it between my teeth, that stopped me from screaming. A blindfold was then tied over my eyes. The bag dropped from my arm, and he pulled my hands behind my back, shackling my wrists with rope.
I couldn’t use them.
I couldn’t …
“You’re coming home with me.” His laugh was more like a cackle. “Won’t my dolls be pleased when they see someone as beautiful as you in their dollhouse?”
My body stiffened, becoming dead weight. My knees buckled. My stomach churned, panic filling each of my crevices. Emotions I never knew I had came rippling out as he began dragging me backward toward the van.
I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t see.
I couldn’t even shout for help.
“My, my,” he growled seconds before he lifted me into the air. “You’re even pretty when you cry.”
Sixty-Three
After
Ashe
“Pearl,” I whispered again, needing to say her name out loud to make this moment feel real.
I didn’t instruct my feet to move. I didn’t feel the rush of wind as I ran to her. I didn’t feel the pain when my knees smacked the cement, my body falling to kneel in front of her.
“It’s me … Ashe.”
She cleared her throat, the noise like she was filled with smoke. “Is it”—her voice was so soft, barely audible. She lifted her hand, slowly reaching across the space between us, her fingers landing on my cheek, gently pressing against it—“really you?”
“Yes.”
I knew I should wait. I knew I should follow the steps.
Every year of training was flashing through my head.
I ignored it all and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her against me. I held her hair, the grease coating my skin, my other hand on her back, the bones of her spine like the neck of a guitar. “My God, Pearl, you’re alive.”
My eyes closed, and I could finally take a long, deep breath.
I rocked her body, using a lazy pace, gripping what felt like only half of her.
Long ago, I had memorized every inch, each dip, all of her gorgeous curves. Most of them were missing as I clutched her tiny frame.
A shell, just like the other two victims.
“Is … this … real?”
I leaned back, so she could view my face, watch my lips, take in the honesty of my eyes. But while I was in this new position, I saw that her hair had doubled in length, her eyes were sunken, hollow. Her lips cracked and pale.
She shook like she was cold.
“This is real.” I rubbed her arms, attempting to warm them. “I’m taking you out of here. That monster will never hurt you again.”
Her lungs rattled when she inhaled, a hoarseness present, even in her breaths. “This feels like a dream.” She tried clearing her throat again. “I’ve had so many. I can’t tell when I’m having one … and when I’m not.”
Her hand had fallen, but she lifted it again, crawling through the air until it found me. The pads of her fingers moved across my face like she was a pianist, my cheeks her keys. “Ashe.” It didn’t sound as though she was asking, more like convincing herself that this was really happening. And I let her take her time, the moment unraveling as she studied what had now been eleven years of separation. “You c-came.”
My hands tightened as I said, “I never stopped looking for you.”
There was noise behind me, and I was sure it was Rivera and our team coming to assist. I didn’t know when, but a message had come through my earpiece that another team of paramedics was on standby.
They were ready for Pearl.
“I’m going to carry you out and take you straight to the hospital.” I paused, her face so aloof that I couldn’t tell what information was hitting her brain or what was bouncing right off. “Is it okay if I lift you and bring you outside?”
She swallowed, the thinness in her throat showing each part that moved. “Outside …” Her head nodded, and I could tell it took so much energy. “Yes.” Her lips closed, and she tried again, “Yes, I want that.”
What I wanted was to pick her up and run her out of here. But she couldn’t handle that speed, so I forced myself to take it easy, to make sure that comfort was all she felt while I carefully tucked her into my arms and lifted her.
I waited for the cinnamon to hit me.
I searched the air for it.
A knot bulged in my throat when I couldn’t find even the smallest hint.
Once I was standing, resting her like a baby in my arms, I nodded toward the doorway, where Rivera stood. “That’s my partner.”
I held his stare as I brought her closer, the emotion he had shown several minutes ago now making perfect sense.
“Paramedics are waiting at the top of the stairs,” he said, reaching for my shoulder, holding it as I made my way through the door. Each squeeze of his fingers told me he knew what this moment meant.
With her arm wrapped around my neck, the other on my chest, I brought us through the narrow doorway and into the hallway. She stayed silent, folded against me, as I began ascending. Looking up at the entrance from the halfway point of the stairs, I saw the gurney and two female paramedics next to it.
Protocol was to place her down on the bed, and they would roll her outside.
But I was the boss of this investigation, and Pearl Daniels wasn’t leaving my fucking arms.
“Move out of the way,” I told the paramedics before I reached the top. “I’m carrying her to the ambulance.”
As the wheels of the gurney began to back up, the metal legs squeaking, Pearl cowered against me. I grabbed the blanket that was at the end of the gurney, and while she rested her face on my chest, I covered her with it.
“You’re okay,” I whispered. “Close your eyes and think of something warm, beautiful … the top of Cadillac Mountain.”
The officers parted, and the paramedics did, too, the team following me as I made my way through the house, stopping at the front door.
“It’s going to be extremely intense out there. This covering will cut some of it out.” I lifted the blanket over her face, and she said nothing in response.