Letta’s brow creased with concern. “I hope everything’s okay.”

Alex had been both expecting and dreading this call for years. “Yeah. Me, too.”

It was one of those sad ironies, Alex thought as she hurried to the phone. Alex had been the one to attempt suicide all those years ago and Bailey was the one who’d ended up an addict. Family had made a huge difference. Alex had had Kim and Steve and Meredith to get her through. But Bailey’s family… Bailey had no one.

She picked up line two. “This is Alex Fallon.”

“This is Nancy Barker. I’m with Fulton County Social Services.”

Alex sighed. “Just tell me, is she alive?”

There was a long pause. “Who, Miss Fallon?”

Alex winced at the “Miss.” She still wasn’t used to not being “Mrs. Preville.” Her cousin Meredith said it would be just a matter of time after her divorce, but a year had passed and Alex felt no closure. Perhaps it was because she and her ex still crossed paths several times a week. Right at this moment, as a matter of fact. Alex watched Dr. Richard Preville reach next to the phone for his own messages. Carefully not meeting her eyes, he bobbed an awkward nod. No, sharing shifts with her ex was not speeding her along the road to relationship recovery.

“Miss Fallon?” the woman prompted.

Alex wrenched her focus back. “Bailey. That is who you’re calling about, isn’t it?”

“Actually I’m calling about Hope.”

“Hope.” Alex repeated it blankly. “I don’t understand. Hope what?”

“Hope Crighton, Bailey’s daughter. Your niece.”

Alex sat down, stunned. “I didn’t know Bailey had a daughter.” That poor child.

“Oh. Then you didn’t know that you’re listed as the emergency contact on all of Hope’s registration forms at her preschool.”

“No.” Alex drew a bolstering breath. “Is Bailey dead, Ms. Barker?”

“I hope not, but we don’t know where she is. She didn’t show up for work this morning and one of her coworkers went to her house to check on her. The coworker found Hope curled up in a little ball in a closet.”

Sick dread settled in Alex’s gut, but she kept her voice calm. “And Bailey was gone.”

“The last anyone saw her was last night when she picked Hope up from preschool.”

Preschool. The child was old enough for preschool and Alex had no idea she’d even existed. Oh, Bailey, what have you done? “And Hope? Was she hurt?”

“Not physically, but she’s scared. Very scared. She’s not talking to anyone.”

“Where is she?”

“Right now she’s in emergency foster care.” Nancy Barker sighed. “Well, if you’re not going to take her, I’ll line up a permanent foster family for her.”

“I’ll take her.” The words were out of Alex’s mouth before she even knew she planned to say them. But once said, she knew it was the right thing to do.

“You didn’t even know she existed until five minutes ago,” Barker protested.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m her aunt. I’ll take her.” Like Kim took me. And saved my life. “I’ll get there as soon as I can arrange leave from my job and buy a plane ticket.”

Alex hung up, turned, and walked into Letta, whose brows were nearly off her forehead. Alex knew she’d been listening. “Well? Can I have the leave?”

Letta’s eyes were filled with worry. “Do you have vacation saved up?”

“Six weeks. I haven’t taken a day in more than three years.” There hadn’t been reason to. Richard never had time to go anywhere. He’d always been working.

“Then start out with vacation,” Letta said. “I’ll get somebody to cover your shifts. But, Alex, you know nothing about this child. Maybe she has a disability or special needs.”

“I’ll cope,” Alex said. “She has no one, and she’s family. I won’t abandon her.”

“Like her mother did.” Letta tilted her head. “Like your mother did you.”

Alex fought the wince, keeping her face impassive. Her past was only a few clicks away from anyone with Google. But Letta did mean well, so Alex made her lips curve. “I’ll call you when I get down there and find out more. Thanks, Letta.”

Arcadia , Georgia , Sunday, January 28, 4:05 p.m.

“Welcome back, Danny boy,” Special Agent Daniel Vartanian murmured to himself as he got out of his car and surveyed the scene. He’d only been gone two weeks, but it had been an eventful two weeks. It was time to get back to work, back to his life. Which in Daniel’s case meant the same thing. Work was his life, and death was his work.

Avenging death, that was. Not causing it. He thought of the past two weeks, of all the death, all the lives destroyed. It was enough to drive a man insane, if he let it. Daniel didn’t intend to let it. He’d go back to his life, finding justice for one victim at a time. He’d make a difference. It was the only way he knew to… atone.

The victim this day was a woman. She’d been found in a ditch on the side of the road, which was now lined with law enforcement vehicles of all shapes and functions.

The crime lab was already here, as was the ME. Daniel stopped at the edge of the road where someone had strung yellow crime scene tape and peered down into the ditch where the body lay, a tech from the ME’s office crouched by her side. She’d been wrapped in a brown blanket that had been pulled away just enough to do the exam. Daniel could see she had dark hair and was perhaps five foot six. She was nude and her face was… damaged. He’d lifted one leg over the tape when a voice stopped him.

“Stop, sir. This area is off limits.”

Straddling the tape, Daniel looked over his shoulder to where a young, earnest-faced officer stood, one hand on his weapon. “I’m Special Agent Daniel Vartanian, Georgia Bureau of Investigation.”

The man’s eyes widened. “Vartanian? You mean-I mean-” He took a breath and straightened abruptly. “I’m sorry, sir. I was just surprised, that’s all.”

Daniel nodded, giving the young man a kind smile. “I understand.” He didn’t like it, but he did understand. The name Vartanian had gotten quite a bit of publicity in the week since his brother Simon’s death, none of it good, all of it deserved. Simon Vartanian had taken seventeen lives in Philadelphia -two of those victims his own parents. The story had made every newspaper in the country. It would be a long time before the name Vartanian could be said without a wide-eyed response. “Where can I find the sheriff?”

The officer pointed about forty feet down the road. “That’s Sheriff Corchran.”

“Thanks, Officer.” Daniel pulled his leg back over the tape and started walking again, conscious of the officer’s eyes following him. In two minutes everyone here would know a Vartanian was on the scene. Daniel hoped he could keep the hubbub to a minimum. This wasn’t about him or any other Vartanian, it was about that woman lying in the ditch wrapped in a brown blanket. She had family somewhere, people who would be missing her. People who would need justice and closure to get on with their lives.

Daniel had once thought justice and closure to be the same thing, that knowing a perpetrator had been caught and punished for his crimes closed the book on a painful chapter in the lives of the victims and their families. Now, hundreds of crimes, victims, and families later, he understood that every crime created a ripple effect, touched lives in ways that could never be measured. Simply knowing evil had been punished wasn’t always enough to allow one to move on. Daniel knew all about that, too.

“Daniel.” It was a surprised greeting from Ed Randall, head of the crime lab team. “I didn’t know you were back.”

“Just today.” It was supposed to have been tomorrow, but having been away for two weeks, Daniel was next in the barrel for an assignment. When this call had come in, his boss had called him back in early. He stuck out his hand to the sheriff. “Sheriff Corchran, I’m Special Agent Vartanian, GBI. We’ll provide any support you request.”