Page 25 of Night Fall (The Quantico Files 1)

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Because they’d had no sleep, Alex and Logan decided to stay overnight in Wichita. Mike recommended a hotel next to the highway. It had outdoor corridors—not a great feature in November—but the rooms were suites, and it wasn’t far from Willow’s house.

They would have liked to question Nettie before checking in, but she was still unconscious, and the case belonged to the Wichita PD. If they could prove Willow’s murder and Nettie’s attack were carried out by the Circle or Adam Walker, then the FBI could step in since it was related to their domestic-terrorism case. But for now, no one could be sure the two crimes were connected. Not even with the image drawn on the wall.

Alex and Logan had briefly met with Police Chief Rogers, who accepted their help graciously. They provided questions designed to help his officers with their canvass of the area, talking to neighbors and anyone else around during the time the killer or killers were inside the house. The questions had been formulated based on FBI experience, but after seeing the crime scene, they’d quickly amended them with information that specifically related to this case. Alex was convinced the chief would pass their suggestions on to his detectives. The Wichita PD had a great working relationship with the FBI.

Logan had called both Jeff back at Quantico and Harrison in Kansas City to tell them what they’d found at Willow’s. Harrison promised to get back with them after they got a few hours of sleep. If Nettie regained consciousness, he wanted Alex and Logan to talk to her. See what she could tell them. He said he would talk to the WPD and make sure it was okay with them.

Alex tried to sleep. The hotel bed was comfortable, but she just couldn’t drift off. What did the drawing on that wall mean? If Willow was killed by the Circle, why the fury? Whoever killed her was filled with rage. Maybe they did know The Book had fallen into the government’s hands and met this unforgivable action with judgment. Was death the price for this sin? Carried out by a mediator who was enraged and full of violence? But why write Alex’s name in blood? Did the Circle blame her for Willow’s supposed transgression?

Although it made some sense, that possibility was still hard for her to grasp. From what Alex could hear when the Circle met at Willow’s house, their get-togethers were docile, not angry. She never heard raised voices. Of course, it’s hard to get much information when you’re stuck in your bedroom, not allowed to see the group assembled in the living room.

Without warning, a memory flashed in Alex’s mind. Something else she must have tried to forget. During one of their meetings, Alex had to go to the bathroom. She’d held it as long as she could, but finally she decided to break the rules and sneak out of her room. She’d opened her door so quietly that no one could have possibly heard her. Then, after making sure she couldn’t be seen, she’d slipped down the hall to the bathroom.

After she’d done her business, she’d stood, staring at the toilet. If she flushed it, they might hear it and know she’d disobeyed her aunt. Finally, frustration overcame her fear of getting caught, and she pulled the handle. She waited until the toilet was quiet again, then leaned against the door with her hand on the doorknob. She waited, listening for any sounds that might betray her, but she didn’t hear anything. Relieved, she decided they hadn’t heard the flush. She slowly opened the door—

Alex jumped at the memory and swung her legs over the side of the bed. How could she have forgotten? This was the second time an old memory had resurfaced since this whole thing started. Why was this happening? She felt ... out of control. Her mind was deceiving her, and it made her feel weak and afraid. She’d seen one of the members of the Circle and had just now remembered it.

After pulling on a hoodie and slippers, Alex got up and went into the living room, which included a desk and a chair. She turned on a lamp. Sure enough, she found paper and a pen in a drawer, and after sitting down, she started sketching the man she’d seen. She had no idea who he was, but a drawing of a Circle member could help the investigators working the case.

When she was finished, she studied her work carefully. It matched her memory, but this had been years ago. The man could look different now. She thought about aging the image but decided she’d better let an FBI expert handle that. As she tried to envision what the man looked like now, someone knocked at her door. She got up and looked through the peephole. Logan. Alex glanced at the clock on the wall. 5:00 a.m. What was he doing here?

She tugged her hoodie around her body, then unlocked the door and swung it open.

“Sorry,” Logan said, huddled in his jacket. “I saw a light on, so I figured you were up.” He ran his hand through his hair. He was dressed, but obviously he hadn’t combed his hair or shaved. Somehow he looked even better unkempt. Surprised by the unbidden thought, Alex felt her cheeks grow hot. She hoped he couldn’t see it in the glow of the dim lighting outside.

“Come on in,” she said. “I’m glad you came. I remembered something. Maybe it will help.”

A blast of cold wind followed behind Logan as she tried to shut the door. Before it latched, she noticed a few snowflakes.

“We should probably check the weather,” Logan said as he turned to look at her. “We don’t want to get stuck here.”

Alex grunted. “Yeah, I’ve had enough of this town. Never planned on coming back here even once. If you’d told me a week ago I’d be here two times in one day, I would have said you were crazy.”

Logan headed to the couch, slipping off his jacket and tossing it over the back of a nearby chair. He stopped before he sat down. “Hey, they have one of those compressed paper logs for the fireplace here. Do you mind if I light it? I’m frozen all the way through.”

Alex frowned at him. “Your room’s only two doors down from mine. Why are you so cold?”

Logan didn’t answer her as he opened the package and removed the log. He put it in the grate and used the matches provided by the hotel to ignite it. Then he opened the flue before turning back to her. “Honestly? I stood out there for a while. I wasn’t sure if I should knock. I don’t want to compromise us in any way.”

“I appreciate your concern, but someone is out there with a virus that could kill thousands of people. I’m more interested in stopping him than worrying about our reputations.”

Logan reached into his pocket and took out a couple of packets. “Stopped by the office and got some extra coffee. Just in case.”

Alex took them and smiled. “I take it you’d like a cup?”

“That would be wonderful. It would help me warm up too.”

“You drink it black, right?”

He nodded. “I’m not opposed to a latte once in a while, but most of the time I like it strong and black, the way coffee was intended to be enjoyed.”

“I enjoy a caramel latte sometimes, but it seems like we’re always on the go. I’ve learned to drink it black. Just made sense.” She shook her head. “The things you give up for the Bureau.”

Logan laughed and sat down on the couch. He ran his hand over the cushion. “This couch seems a little ... damp.” He turned around to look at her. “And what is that smell?”

“Sorry,” she said. “It’s disinfectant. I always clean hotel rooms. Germs.”

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