Page 11 of Saving Meadow

Lauren Marshall, Kylie Peters, and Kelley Morris. Three young women senselessly murdered.

“Everything fits.” Mandy joined Joel at the whiteboard to add the girl’s DMV picture. “The media has released the story. They broke the news a little after 3 a.m., shortly after the body was found. It replayed at 6 a.m. Kilby has decided to use the coverage to his advantage and set up a hotline. The PD made a statement as well about the extra police presence, trying to settle the public’s fear.”

“So much for keeping it quiet,” Ben mumbled.

“Yeah. You knew that wasn’t going to happen as soon as the buzzards caught a sniff,” Joel huffed.

The public was going to be in a panic, and there were going to be thousands of well-meaning citizens calling in with information, stretching the PD’s already thin resources.

It was barely coming up on 9 a.m. and my day had already gone to hell in a handbasket.

My phone vibrated, an unknown number flashing on the screen.

“SA Clark,” I answered.

“Hi. Um. This is Meadow Holiday. Is this Nick?”

“Hi, Meadow. Are you okay?”

She sounded like she’d been crying and her voice was shaky and unsure.

“I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Go? Where are you? Are you safe? Stay put. I’ll come to you.”

I was already out the doors of the BAU heading to the lobby when I felt Mike at my back.

“I’m here. Well, at the address on your card. I’m sorry to bother you.”

“Here? In the parking lot?”

We made it to the front of the building, and I scanned the area for Meadow, but I didn’t see her.

“I’m in my car. I’m too afraid to get out,” she cried.

My heart pounded in my chest, and an unexplainable fury pulsed through my veins. She was scared to death. That pissed me off enough, but if one hair on her head was hurt, I’d lose my ever-loving mind.

“There.” Mike pointed to a white Honda Accord. Sure enough, Meadow was in the driver’s seat, her forehead on the steering wheel.

“You did the right thing staying in your car. I want you to look out your window. Mike and I are walking toward your car now.” I watched as she lifted her head, looking toward the building. “Do you see us?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t want to scare you more than you are. Mike has his weapon drawn; it is for our safety. He won’t hurt you.”

“I see you,” she sobbed.

A few more strides and we were at her car. I disconnected and shoved my phone in my back pocket and opened the car door, not bothering to check the area before I pulled Meadow out and into my arms. I knew Mike would cover me while I took care of Meadow. I scanned her from top to toe, no blood or visible injury. Thank God.

“What do you need from your car?” I asked.

“Keys.”

I reached in, pulled them from the ignition, slammed the door, beeped her locks, and gave Mike a chin lift. Without a word, Meadow allowed me to guide her into the lobby, down the corridor, and into the BAU office.

When we entered Mike broke away, going to his desk to give us privacy.

“Are you okay? Did someone try and hurt you?”