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8
It was clear Logan wanted to talk about the case on their short flight to Kansas City, but Alex was overwhelmed by thoughts and feelings that seemed to fill every empty space inside her. Voices from the past flooded her mind, each one competing for her attention.
They’d gone to the RA with Mike, where agents had carefully made a copy of The Book. Alex and Logan would deliver it to the command post in Kansas City, and the original would be flown to the lab at Quantico. Keith would take it there after dropping them off.
Logan finally fell silent, as if he understood she needed some time to process the fallout from stepping inside that awful house again. Nettie had obviously worked miracles inside its walls, but enough of the past was left to remind Alex of a childhood filled with strange people and weird beliefs. Secret meetings and lowered voices that only exacerbated the fears that held her in a firm grip. She was warned not to leave her room while the meetings were going on, which wasn’t a problem. Alex had no interest in her aunt’s creepy friends or the teachings from The Book.
Regardless, Willow would quote passages from its pages for hours on end whenever Alex was in hearing distance. Until she turned fourteen, that is. Willow let Alex know more than once how disappointed she was that she wasn’t interested in joining the Circle. Alex didn’t care. All she wanted was to get out of that house.
Alex’s life had been filled with mind-numbing repetition. She would go to school, come home, feed the cats, and clean the house. Then she’d make supper. After that she’d go to her room and study for several hours before falling into bed until she had to get up, make breakfast, and race to the bus. Some nights she’d get off the bus early and go to the store. At least Willow gave her money for groceries. It wasn’t much, but Alex learned how to make the dollars stretch. Lots of rice and oatmeal. Bread, peanut butter, bologna, and cheese were the staples. Sometimes she had enough to buy hamburger or a chicken. Willow told everyone she didn’t eat meat, but she never turned down Alex’s roasted chicken or juicy cheeseburgers. It might not have been the healthiest diet, but it kept them alive.
Alex also found a cheap brand of food the cats seemed to like. She cared about them even though she had to spend grocery money on them. They were sweet, and sometimes they came into her room at night and curled up on the bed with her. Their purring soothed her.
Although Alex never told Willow about events at school, several times she’d shown up without warning. Her wild hair, long skirts, and ballet slippers created quite a stir. Willow had no idea she was a spectacle. She would walk into Alex’s classroom and ask her where something was, ranting and raving that someone had stolen it. Alex would get up from her desk and take Willow’s arm, guiding her out of the classroom with giggles and snickering following her out into the hallway. Alex would have to calm her down, tell her where the item she wanted was, whether it was her keys, her purse, or whatever. Although the visits were embarrassing, they made Alex’s teachers finally stop inviting her aunt to parent-teacher conferences. That made Alex’s life a little easier.
Willow never physically abused her but neither did she try to protect her or encourage her. Her instability made Alex feel insecure, as if she always had to be on her guard. She worried that at any moment, the floor could collapse under her again, the way it had when her mother died.
Alex remembered exactly when she’d decided she wanted to become a profiler with the FBI. It was Career Day at school. Before then, she’d just dreamt about joining the Bureau. But one of the students—she couldn’t remember his name now—brought an uncle who’d retired from the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit a year earlier. His stories captivated Alex. She was so entranced she could barely breathe. Could someone really do that—study hearts of darkness in a way that made them understandable? Could that kind of knowledge save lives and bring justice? Could understanding evil make her less afraid?
It was all she wanted. To live in the light. So Alex promised herself she’d be an FBI behavioral analyst someday. She got books from the library about serial killers and famous profilers. And as she read about the lives of some of the FBI’s most successful profilers, she envisioned herself as one of them.
Alex spent those years working hard in school so she could win a scholarship for college. When she walked out the door for the last time, it was the happiest she’d felt since before her mother died. Her only regret was leaving the cats behind.
She worked her way through college to pay for all the other things she needed. Then she joined the police department in Kansas City and from there, the FBI. And now everything she’d dreamt of had finally come to pass.
“That was hard on you, wasn’t it?” Logan said.
Alex was startled at the sound of his voice. She’d been so lost in her thoughts that she’d forgotten he was there. “Yeah. I really had no intention of ever going back there.”
“You don’t have any feelings toward your aunt?”
Alex sighed. She really didn’t want to talk about this. Why was he asking these questions? “I took care of her for six years,” she said. “My debt was paid. I wish her well, but she’s not my responsibility any longer.”
“You said she’s the only family you have?”
Alex fought back a sudden surge of anger. What was he trying to say? That she should feel some kind of duty toward her aunt? “Yeah, I think so. I mean, my dad disappeared when I was four. I have no idea if he’s alive or dead.” She looked out the window, hoping it would put an end to the conversation. They were almost there. Alex could never get over how much the ground looked like a patchwork quilt from the air. They were beginning to descend, so she fastened her seat belt.
“I’m sorry, Alex. I’m not trying to meddle. I’m really interested, that’s all.”
“Well, thanks,” she said, trying not to sound as irritated as she felt, “but it might be best if we keep our personal lives ... personal.”
“Sure. If that’s what you want.”
Logan turned his head and finished whatever he was doing on his laptop. Then he closed the cover before sliding it into his bag and fastening his seat belt. They stayed silent as they prepared to land.
Alex felt some regret for her response to Logan, but she really wasn’t interested in sharing her life with him ... or with anyone. All she wanted to do was find Adam Walker before something too horrible for words happened. Nothing else mattered.
