Left to Vanish (An Adele Sharp Mystery—Book Eight) by Blake Pierce (books to read for 13 year olds .txt) 📗

Danis is going to be all right. Some scarring,no doubt, but she should be fine.”

Adele exhaled slowly, feeling likeshe was releasing an elephant from her shoulders. For a moment, she feltweightless, sitting on her car, staring at Agent Paige. A silly grin began tospread across her features and she shook her head side to side in disbelief.

“She made it… I don’t believe it.She survived…”

“Good job,” Paige said, simply,nodding once.

And for the first time, it feltthere wasn’t anything biting or hostile about the other woman’s praise. Sheapproached the car and turned to face the hospital as well. She paused as ifconsidering whether she ought to sit on the hood of the vehicle. But then,wrinkling her nose in disgust, she remained standing, arms crossed.

“Excellently done. She’s alivebecause of you.”

Adele swallowed. She closed hereyes. Trust your instincts. That’s what Robert had told her all thosetimes.

She nearly had missed it. She’dnearly failed…

She only just arrived barely intime to save Mrs. Danis.

She swallowed. “Him?” she asked.

“Jonah Baresi,” Paige murmured. “Deadthe moment he hit the ground. They had fingerprints from a small-time robberynearly six years ago. He was nearly in his sixties now.”

Adele shivered, folding her armstogether and hugging them against her chest. “He was strong… Very strong.”

“Yes. Also schizophrenic,according to his medical records.”

Adele glanced at Paige, wincing. “Sowas he really at that convent? The one in Mr. Lavigne’s pictures?”

Paige shook her head. “I don’tknow. Probably. Why else would he have done all this? Those nuns must havetreated him something horrible.”

“It’s crazy…” Adele said, softly. “Howdo you fight something like that? How do you fight those who think they’redoing good?”

Paige glanced at Adele. “Definegood. That might be a start,” she murmured. “Your methods may beunconventional, Adele. But you pulled it together in the end.” She bobbed herhead once, flashing something close to a rare smile. “Either way, we may neverknow why he did what he did. Things happened in that convent. Things buried.Some secrets remain though. He’s dead. His motives too.”

Adele shivered, shaking her headin frustration. “If walls could talk…” she murmured.

“Even if they could, those oldruins were wiped away, replaced, built over. Even the convent is gone.” Paigeshrugged. “I wouldn’t think about it too long. You did your job. That’s all wecan ask.”

Adele shivered, staring off. “Hewas dressed like a monk. Kept talking about… it was so strange…”

“Honestly, I don’t think I care.He’s the bad guy. The woman you saved was the victim.” She patted Adele on theshoulder. “Which makes you the good guy.”

Adele winced at each of thesewords. She wasn’t sure that any of them were true. The man had been tortured…No doubt. Mentally ill but treated as something monstrous. Was it his fault he’dturned out how he had? And as for Mrs. Danis… she’d simply been in the wrongplace at the wrong time with the wrong name.

What about the nuns at the oldconvent? They’d been born in a harsh time, in a harsh world… Adele swallowed,shaking her head. The last thing she felt like was the good guy. She wassomeone with a badge and a gun slowly descending into turmoil. Something had tochange… But she didn’t know what.

If Paige could sense any of the emotionaltoll of her words, she didn’t show it. She nodded once in approval and in abrusque tone said, “Good job, Adele. I’m heading back to the city—going toreport. Foucault wants it in person.”

Adele blinked, snapped from hermorbid contemplation. “I—you sure? I can come too.”

“No. That’s fine. You rest. Takeit easy, won’t you? The world won’t burn if you take a vacation. Maybe even inSouthern France.” Paige nodded once more, then turned and walked away, heading towardthe parking lot.

Adele listened to the sound of theolder woman’s footsteps click against the sidewalk. As she did, she feltanother slow shiver spread across her back.

Case closed, she supposed.

Jonah Baresi dead, though. He tookhis own life rather than surrender. Three others also dead. Adele winced, closingher eyes at the thought. It was all so horrible. She didn’t know what to dowith any of it.

Agent Paige seemed to have changedher tune… Commending Adele’s unconventional methods. Then again, Adele knew thetruth. Her methods had only seemed unconventional because she’d missed theclues. She’d bulldozed past obvious signs… She’d almost arrived too late.

She’d been slow this time around.

Very slow.

She shivered again, still leaningagainst the hood of her car, staring sightless now across the road and theroundabout out front the hospital.

Should she go in? Say hi toCandace? It might be nice just to see someone who’d survived all of it… To seethe fruit of Robert’s training. Trusting his words as well as her instincts.

She shivered.

Maybe she was best suited to stopat the church chapel. Offer a prayer of her own on behalf of the victims… Inthe face of such violence, such horror, such death… was there anywhere else toturn?

She pictured the missing knuckleon the killer, the rips and tears along his flesh. The sheer fury and rage withwhich he’d been trying to strangle the life out of Mrs. Danis.

He’d seemed convinced she was hischildhood tormentor—convinced she was this Mother Candela.

What all had those old nuns doneto make him hate them so much?

Adele shivered, shaking her headand pushing off the car now, her fingers pressing to the cold glass as sherounded the vehicle and moved toward the driver’s side.

Perhaps some questions were bestleft unanswered.

She’d nearly missed it, this time.She’d been slow, fearful—trapped in her own thoughts. Would she ever recover?Would it ever be like it used to be?

People like Mrs. Danis needed her…But Adele wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep going. Not now… Not withher own business out there—business she knew she needed to take care of.

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

Adele sighed softly as she exitedthe taxi, waving goodbye to the driver and coming to a halt outside the maindoors to the lobby of her apartment in Paris.

She stood on the sidewalk, beneaththe moonlight in the nighttime streets of the beautiful city. The air hummedwith the distant sound of traffic and the swish of a wind funneled by thebuildings on either side of the wide streets. She passed a row