Page 97 of Last Girls Alive

“Yes, but then that was it. I never saw her again after that visit.”

Katie took a deep breath, glancing at McGaven who had the same curious look. “Did she happen to say if the baby was his?”

“I’m sorry,” the doctor said, shaking her head. “No, she didn’t say who the father was. I only know that she was in a relationship with a man named Ray.”

Forty

“Can you hear me? Can you hear me?” came a strong authoritative voice from very far away. It was as if I were in a box and they were outside trying to get in. Curious.

Again, they said, “Can you hear me?” It was the voice of caring concern, something so foreign to me.

The next moment I felt like I was flying through space, soaring through the water, or floating on a cloud. I breathed deeply… in and out… in and out… hearing my own breathing in my ears. It was strangely soothing. Peaceful. But strange.

Voices were all around me. At first I thought I had been kidnapped or taken by aliens. I opened my eyes and stared up at a face with kind eyes, inside a helmet, looking down with complete focus at me.

I suddenly realized I was looking at a firefighter in full uniform, and that I lay on a gurney being wheeled toward an ambulance. Snapped back into reality, tuned in to the sounds and chaos, just like an old-fashioned radio coming on.

Lifting my head, I saw several firemen fighting a blaze. I felt the heat. Flames leapt out the windows and doors with a crackling display of what once had been my home. The only home I had ever known. It was gone. Forever.

Her voice came back louder than ever.

“You think you’re so smart, but you’re not!” screamed my mother. “You’re a loser. A failure. You’ll never amount to anything. You make me sick…”

I looked to the right to a black bag on another gurney being wheeled to another location. It was her. I knew it was her. What was left of her. I didn’t care. And it was the last time I ever had to see her again.

Forty-One

Tuesday 1945 hours

McGaven drove to the bookshop. He was familiar with the area from patrol and seemed to be excited about the fact that they were going somewhere shrouded in so much secrecy. It was the only place where they’d tracked down the Hunter-Gatherer book series from the 1940s—no one else, including the Internet, libraries, and specialized rare bookstores, had copies that they could find. It was still unclear if the killer had read them or was engaging in murder because of them, but it was the only lead on the message carved into the girls’ backs that they had.

Katie laughed to herself.

“What?” he said, glancing at her in the passenger seat.

“You.”

“What do you mean?”

“You seem so excited about this visit,” she said.

“Ever since I was a kid, I’ve loved mysteries and magic and all that stuff. It’s like getting to play out one of my kid dreams.”

“Okay, I get it,” she said.

“You think I’m weird.”

“No, not at all. I just hope you’re not disappointed.”

“We’ll see. We shall see.”

He accelerated as they raced toward the downtown area. They knew the building was next to 6317 Sycamore Street. McGaven stopped the car and stared at a large brick building with few windows. “Where’s the entrance?”

“Here.” Katie pointed. “Park there.”

McGaven parked the car and they both jumped out and began searching the outside of the building—walking back and forth looking for a number or a name.

Nothing.