She barely even knew her own daughter these days. She’d been so restricted from her for the past few years, after Marcus broke things off and told her not to come home anymore. After the alcohol had sent her down a path she wasn’t sure she could come back from.
Laura closed the browser, chewing her lip. It was late. Past midnight. But, just maybe…
She dialed Marcus’s number, knowing it was probably a stupid thing to do, but so racked with guilt she knew she had to do it anyway.
“Laura?” His voice was a little rough around the edges, like he was tired. “What the hell?”
“I know it’s late,” she said, quickly. “I’m sorry. I just…”
“You ca
n’t talk to Lacey right now,” Marcus snapped. “Christ, are you drinking? It’s far too late. She’s been in bed for hours!”
“I know, I know,” Laura said, quickly, trying to cut off any more assumptions. “I don’t want to talk to her. I mean, I do, obviously, I always do. But I’m calling for you.”
“Me?” Marcus grunted, the anger not quite gone from his voice. “I don’t think we have much to say to each other.”
“We do,” Laura told him. “We do. I… Marcus, I keep thinking about the custody hearing. It’s so soon, and the thing is—not that I’m blaming you, but—I haven’t seen her much at all lately. I just… I don’t know what I’ve missed. What’s been going on with her. I want to know.”
“I can’t catch you up on years of your daughter’s life,” Marcus said roughly. “You should have been here.”
I tried to be, Laura thought. Marcus didn’t know how hard she’d tried. What kind of demons she’d been fighting.
“I don’t expect you to give me a day by day account,” Laura said, trying not to snap. She needed him on-side, or he would just hang up the call. “Just, tell me. What kind of girl is she, our daughter? Who is she growing into?”
There was a short pause before Marcus spoke again. “She’s growing into someone wonderful,” he said, and even the anger wasn’t enough to dampen the fatherly pride in his voice. How it softened him, everything about him. “She’s curious, and always asking a million questions. She makes friends easily. She shares without being prompted. If she sees someone looking sad, she’ll do her best to cheer them up. She likes ponies and dolls and singing. And she’s beautiful.”
Laura couldn’t speak for a moment. It was like her breath had been taken away.
Hearing all of that—it was amazing. Learning what her daughter was like.
But it also brought with it a fresh wave of so much pain that she thought she was never going to breathe again.
She’d missed it. All of it. And if the custody hearing didn’t go well, she would miss the rest, too.
“Laura?” Marcus prompted, his voice rough and suspicious again.
“Thank you,” Laura choked out, because it was all she could manage. “Good night.”
She hung up the call, her hand going to her chest as if she could soothe away the pain in her heart there. She closed her eyes.
And she cried.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Laura stepped into the unwelcome clatter of the bullpen, squinting her eyes slightly at the noise. It was too early in the morning for this. She’d only managed to snatch a few hours of sleep, between getting to the motel late and not being able to get her mind off whether the killer was at the apartment at any given point of the night. She’d kept on expecting to hear from someone that he’d been apprehended, but her cell phone never rang.
“Agents,” Captain Gausse said, greeting them almost at the door. “No report of any activity at the second apartment. We still have Kevin Wurz in protective custody—I assume you’ll want to speak with him?”
Laura nodded, feeling her stomach drop into her feet. No activity. Somehow, they’d missed him. Or he’d never been there at all. “Yes, we’ll need to ask him some questions.”
“We transferred him to a safe house to keep him comfortable overnight,” Gausse said, making a beckoning motion to someone behind Nate’s head as they began to walk back to their desks. “I’ll have him brought here for you.”
“Thanks,” Laura said. “Any other updates overnight?”
“Preliminary report from the crime scene, but as I understand, it doesn’t tell you anything you didn’t see for yourself,” Gausse said. “We’re expecting a more thorough coroner’s report on the twins—I mean the female twins—later on today.”
Laura didn’t hold out a lot of hope that the report was going to tell them anything they didn’t know. Unless the killer had carved a written message into some hidden bone that couldn’t be seen until the autopsy was done, there wouldn’t be any evidence.