Silence: The Faces of Evil Christmas Prequel by Debra Webb Page A

them.
    Bare skin... arms and legs. Long dark hair... blonde hair. Blood .
    “Oh my God.”
    “Help us.”
    The dark-haired woman raised her head. Sunken, red-rimmed eyes stared out at Jess.
    Adrenaline seared through her. She jerked at her bindings, somehow squeezed her hands free, then reached down and loosened the ropes around her ankles. Fighting back the nearly overwhelming urge to heave, she rushed to the cages.
    “Marie Duncan?” Jess dropped to her knees, winced, and inspected the padlock on the cage door.
    The dark-haired woman nodded. “Please,” she pleaded, “you have to help my sister.”
    Jess gave her the most reassuring smile she could muster. “That’s why I’m here. To help you.”
    She needed a key. Dammit! She needed to call for help. Moving quickly, she checked the next two cages, careful of the body fluids that had spread across the floor. Shawna Johnston. Deceased. Her state of decomposition suggested she’d been dead several weeks.
    Larissa Stone, deceased as well. Looked as if she had been dead for nearly as long as Johnston.
    The fourth and fifth cages were empty.
    Jess moved back to the first cage. “Marie?” She waited until the woman was looking at her. “I’m going to find the key so I can get you out of there. Okay?”
    Marie shook her head. She stared down at the woman in her arms. “You have to help my sister first.”
    Jess’s heart fell. The sister was dead. How did she get the poor woman to understand? She thought of Lily. If she and Lil were in those cages and—
    A scream filled the air.
    Jess whipped around. The gun registered first... then Delia Potter’s face rushing toward her.

 
    9
    Christmas Eve
    Birmingham, 8:40 p.m.
    The second glass of wine on top of the beer she’d had at the pub was a bad idea.
    Exhaustion. Dehydration. No dinner. Jess was already down three strikes before she started and still she hadn’t said no. That was the problem, when it came to Dan she’d never been able to say no.
    Otherwise she wouldn’t be here in his urban apartment, snuggled on the worn comfortable leather sofa listening to him talk about his work.
    “I kept both the mayor and the chief of police out of trouble on that one. Not an easy task, I can tell you. But I love it.”
    Jess laughed, knowing that was what he expected. Truth was she wasn’t even assimilating the words. She was too busy watching his face, listening to his voice.
    It was just plain wrong that after a whole decade he could mesmerize her as if she were seventeen again. As if they’d never fallen apart.
    “I’m not saying another word,” he announced, that smile teasing her.
    She blinked. Had she missed something? “What?” She sipped her wine. Hoped she hadn’t ignored a response cue.
    “I’ve spent the last half hour talking about nothing but work—my work.” He poured himself another glass of wine, set the nearly empty bottle back on the coffee table. “You’re supposed to be telling me about you.”
    He grinned and her heart squeezed so tight she feared it would just stop beating altogether. “You said you’d just gotten a big promotion. I want to know what’s it like to be Special Agent Jess Harris, field investigator for the F...B...I.”
    While she struggled to summon the ability to speak, he freshened her glass, emptying the last of the wine from the bottle. At this rate she’d need a cab to get to Lil’s.
    “Actually,” she said finally, “I’m a profiler now.”
    “Hey! That’s the job you always talked about.” She didn’t miss the glimmer of regret in his eyes before he smiled. “Congratulations.” He tapped his glass to hers.
    The sincerity in his voice made her happier than she would admit in a million years despite that fleeting look of regret she was sure she’d seen. Whatever else he felt, somehow his approval still meant a great deal to her. Not a good thing. “Thank you.”
    “Well?” he prompted, a big grin stealing her breath all over again. “Tell me