by Lori Ryan
“If I show you some pictures, can you tell me if you recognize anyone?”
The doctor hovered.
Eric pulled out his phone and worked the screen through the baggie. He didn’t have a lot of time so he showed her two dummy pictures first—guys from the precinct they used to avoid leading any witnesses.
She whispered a no to both of them.
When he held up the image of William Cavill that Connie had sent to him, she frowned, clearly studying it.
Eric stayed quiet knowing if he spoke, he might affect her response.
“Familiar,” she said.
Eric decided to let that sit for a bit. He kept the image in front of her and asked, “you used to work at a house over on Elmwood, an assisted living home.”
Her eyes went wide. “That’s where I know this man. But he was a boy.” She closed her eyes briefly, tears coming. “Burn victim. Liam Cavill.”
Not William Cavill. Liam Cavill.
Eric shot a glance at John. They had one more thread to pull. He knew the doctor was going to kick them out soon.
“Could it have been Liam that you saw?”
“Maybe.” She was getting hoarser, the strain starting to show.
“Gentlemen,” the doctor said. Her tone was quiet, but there was steel behind the order.
“Disturbed,” the patient said, and they all turned to her again. “Liam Cavill. Very disturbed boy.”
Eric’s jaw tightened at her words. He had a feeling he’d grown up to be a very disturbed man.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
They called in the ID to the rest of the unit as they drove back to the department. Now that they knew what name the man had been living under, they should be able to track him down faster.
“That might help,” Nate said. “His records under the name William Cavill are pretty spotty. No tax records so if he’s working, it’s under the table or for himself and he’s not paying taxes. Some old credit cards but nothing active.”
Rhys’s voice came over the speaker phone. “He doesn’t seem to be actively trying to hide because he does show up now and again. But the guy moves around. We’ve sent uniforms to two old addresses and he’s not at either of them.”
“I’m not sure if he flat out said he was living at the uncle’s house when I took that call,” Connie said, “but I got that impression.”
Eric looked at John. “If he was between places and he killed the uncle, he might have just taken over living there. As long as he kept paying the bills, he could have gotten away with it if the uncle was isolated enough.”
“Keep looking, guys,” Eric said and cut the connection.
They were back to the precinct in twenty minutes, but they didn’t make it back to the bullpen. Jackwagon intercepted them outside the elevators on the fourth floor.
“Did I not make myself clear that you were supposed to work with the Dark Falls Daily News on this case, officers?” He put himself between the bullpen doors and them, hands on hips, his face red. He clearly wanted the whole damned unit to hear the confrontation with the way he yelled.
Eric and John stopped almost simultaneously. It was Eric who answered, a slow grin forming on his face. He needed to blow off some steam and this was going to be the perfect outlet.
“That’s detectives. Detective Cantu and Detective Sevier,” he said gesturing to his partner. He put a little extra smooth into his voice. “Now get the hell on out of our way.”
Eric didn’t need to yell for the whole unit to hear. They’d all come into the doorway to watch. They’d hear him just fine.
“I asked you a question, officer.”
“Oh no he didn’t,” someone said from behind Jackwagon. Eric was pretty sure it was Nate Ryder, but the mock falsetto made it hard to be sure.
“Well, now, let me think on it a bit,” Eric said, playing up the dumb act he sometimes used when people pissed him off or underestimated him and needed putting in place. This guy was doing both. “You did not in fact tell me to work with the Dark Falls Daily News. You told me to work with Merritt McKenna of the Dark Falls Daily News. I am, but I’ve been informed she’s no longer on this assignment.”
“It’s a damned good thing she’s not on it, anymore. She’s got this guy focused on her. Her boss was right to take her off the assignment.”
Eric went still, everything in him flushed cold then burned hot in the span of an instant. “What did you say?”
He moved, using his body to push Jackwagon into the crowd of detectives behind him. They circled him.
“What. Did. You. Say?” He asked again, slowly and, he thought, with a lot more patience than the situation deserved what with the way everything in him was saying to tear the man’s head off.
“Detective,” came the captain’s sharp interruption. Eric didn’t move. Couldn’t move.
What the hell did this guy know and what did it have to do with Merritt?
“Cap, this guy knows something he hasn’t shared with the class.” Eric clenched his fists. God he wanted to teach this man a lesson about doing that, but more than that, he needed to know what he knew. “What did you mean, ‘this guy’ is focused on Merritt?”
“Yes,” Captain Scanlon said, putting herself at Eric’s shoulder. “What did you mean?”
Eric watched as the mayor’s babysitter went stark white and then busied himself with his cuffs. “I’m getting calls from the editor at the daily. They said your detectives aren’t sharing with their reporter the way they were sharing with Merritt McKenna. They said they got some strange letters about her coverage of the fires, that it might be the guy starting them. That’s all I know.”
He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. Eric saw red, reaching out to grab the man’s collar and twist it up, hauling him to him.
“Did they want Merritt? Does she know? Why the hell didn’t they report this?” Eric snarled the words, not hearing his captain’s warnings or shouts.
Jackwagon went stiff and sneered, ugly at Eric. “They did report it. They reported it to me. It’s just some asshole trying to get attention.”
Eric should have held himself in check but he just couldn’t. He shoved, pushing the guy all the way to the wall behind them, slamming him into it with a satisfying thud.
He felt the breath go out of Jackwagon, heard the pain in his grunt.
Eric dropped him, turning away to call Merritt, not caring about anything other than getting to her. Not caring when the asshole wheezed threats to have his badge and sue him and all kinds of other fun stuff. Not caring when his captain told him he needed to settle, to get himself under control.
As Merritt’s phone rang, Eric thought through what he knew about where Collin would be. He’d seen flyers from the school on her refrigerator. He closed his eyes. Bright Stars … Bright Horizons … Bright Beginnings. It was Bright Beginnings kindergarten.
He looked at his partner as Merritt’s phone went to voicemail. “Get an officer over to Bright Beginnings day school. Have them sit on Collin McKenna. If he gets picked up for aftercare, the officer goes on the bus with him. Tell him to think of some damned way to make it a game so he doesn’t scare the shit out of the kid.”
He thought about Collin. “Tell the uniform to tell Collin I said it was a game and he’s the cop’s partner for the day. He has to be his backup at all times. He can’t let the uniform out of his sight.”
“Mer,” he said, switching his attention to the recording on her phone, “I don’t have details yet but your paper got some kind of letter for you from the arsonist. I think he’s locked onto you. It could be nothing, but I want you to get to a public place and call me. I’ve got an officer going to sit with Collin. Get someplace with people right away, okay?”
He wanted to beg her. Wanted to plead with her to be safe. To stay safe. To get through this. He was an idiot thinking he needed time to be sure about this woman.
What a fucking dumbass.
Chapter Forty
It took everything Eric had in
him not to throw the editor through the window. No wonder his captain had insisted on coming with him and John. Jackwagon had been sent packing back to the mayor’s office and Eric had a feeling it would be a cold day in hell when they let another one of the mayor’s lackeys into the precinct to “help.”
“That’s the only one,” the editor—Paul Barlow—said, throwing his hand out in the direction of the letter Eric was reading through a clear evidence bag. “There’s no clear threat in it and we have the right to protect our sources.”
“He’s not a source,” the captain said through gritted teeth. “He’s a suspect and we could have used this to try to track him before he kills anyone else.”
Eric read the letter again. It was creepy and it sure as hell sent a wash of cold through him, but there was no direct threat. Thank God.
Still, he would feel a hell of a lot better if Merritt answered her phone.
“There was no open threat,” Jason Wilson, the reporter who’d stolen the story from Merritt said. “And she wasn’t on the story any longer.”
“Yes,” Eric said, his voice a careful monotone. “That seems to be the problem.”
The letter had ranted about Jason covering his story all wrong and that Merritt understood him. That she got his story right, that she knew him and needed to be put back on the story.
“I’m not going to let some maniac control who I put on what assignments. This is my newspaper,” the editor said.
“I don’t give a rat’s ass who you put on what stories, though you were an ass to take the story from Merritt when she was the one who broke it—” Eric spared a glare in Jason Wilson’s direction. “You should have called us the minute you got this letter. This maniac has started killing people.”
The editor opened his mouth and closed it, like he wanted to come up with a reasonable excuse but had none.
There wasn’t one.
“Connie is with Merritt’s son,” John said quietly beside Eric, putting his phone away. “He says the boy bought the partner thing and is having fun. Connie’s bringing him to the station.”
Eric nodded, then looked at Paul. “One hair on her head.” He jabbed a finger toward the man, barely able to get the words out through the haze of fury. “One hair on her head.”
The captain shot him a warning glance as Paul started to grumble about threats and lawsuits.
“Mr. Barlow,” the captain snapped. “Does Ms. McKenna use a phone that you provide for her? Do you have the ability to track it?”
He blinked, looking at her with owl eyes. “I’m sure she’s fine. This is all nothing to get to so upset about.”
Captain Scanlon shot him her don’t-fuck-with-me smile. Actually, it was more of a dare. Like she’d have fun teaching him a lesson if he questioned her again. Eric liked it. “Can you track it?”
“Yeah,” he said, with a shrug. “Sure.”
Eric paced while the man pulled up an app on a tablet. The minutes stretched as he pecked at the tablet and cross checked the numbers with a list in his desk drawer.
After a few minutes, he looked up. “She’s out at the warehouse where one of the early fires happened. She’s not supposed to be on this case anymore, but she probably didn’t listen. She’s probably out there trying to dig something up.” He said it almost offhand, like it was no big deal, but Eric knew something was up. Every cop sense he had was tingling, and it wasn’t in any kind of a good way.
John went stiff. “Nate Ryder sent over a file a few minutes ago.” He shot a glance between the two newspaper men and Eric knew there was something he wasn’t willing to say in front of them. The look on his face was enough to tell him they needed to move.
Apparently, the captain saw it too.
They turned and left the room, almost as one.
When they were on the street, Eric didn’t slow on his way to the car, but he did speak to his partner. “What?” was the one-word question.
John didn’t hesitate in answering. “Nate started calling everyone connected to any of the cases. Anyone who was a witness at any of the scenes, to ask if they know Liam Cavill. He got in touch with the guy whose night watchman called in the warehouse fire. Liam has on off-the-books business taking care of photocopiers and office machines. He serviced the warehouse before it went vacant.”
Eric swore and broke into a run, hearing the captain and John behind him.
They better haul ass because he wasn’t waiting. He needed to get to Merritt.
Chapter Forty-One
Merritt saw the small hatchback when she pulled into the warehouse lot, but there was no one inside of it.
“Hello?” she called out as she walked toward the building. She knew nothing about walking into a burned building. Well, nothing other than the fact that it was dangerous to do it. She had been hoping Liam was waiting outside for her so he could at least point out where he had walked. That had to be safer than her going in blindly, right?
“Liam?” she edged closer to the building, looking around. She couldn’t see much across at the electronics warehouse, but she could see that the lot was mostly empty. People must be going home.
She looked around before stepping into the building. The whole front of it was burned out and they hadn’t bothered to try to secure it. She would guess it would be demolished soon.
This was stupid. There was probably nothing of any kind of worth in the office. What did she think she would find? A sticky note with arrows and the killer’s name?
She looked at her watch. She needed to pick up Collin in an hour. She would take a quick look and then get out of there.
She took another step into the building.
“You came.”
She heard the whispered words from beside her and jumped.
It was the last thing she did before she felt a sharp blow to the side of her head and pain ricocheted through her skull. Spots danced in her eyes and nausea welled, threatening to bring up her lunch.
She fell to a knee, bringing her hands down in front of her in confusion.
“Liam?”
Run!
She didn’t know if her thought was directed at her or at Liam. Had someone attacked them? Is that why he hadn’t answered her?
She couldn’t think past the pain and fear.
Hands lifted her and she looked next to her to see Liam. He slid an arm under her arm and linked her other arm over his shoulder, half carrying her and half dragging her toward the back of the building.
She wanted to look around to see who had hit her, to see if they were coming after them, but pain shot through her.
“Liam?” she asked, “what’s happening?”
“I have to show you,” he said. “You’ll understand. My mother understood. She kept my secret. I can make you understand.”
He pulled her into a small office. It was intact, having survived the flames but the smoke and water damage were evident.
He dropped her into a chair so she was facing the way they’d just come.
There was no one in there with them.
Liam had hit her.
Merritt fought the fog in her head.
She looked down to see Liam tying her feet to the legs of the chair. His hands.
She hadn’t seen them before when she met him at the electronics warehouse. He’d had gloves on them.
His hands were laced with the spidery scars of burns. Old burns long ago healed.
No!
The thought raced through Merritt and she tried to stand. He came up, catching her with his shoulder to her stomach and forcing her back down.
She struggled, screaming for help. No! She would not let him tie her to the chair. She couldn’t.
Collin. Oh God, Collin.
Eric. She thought of the detective and wished to God she had some way to reach him. She fought, shoving against Liam’s shoulders with her hands. She needed to get up, to run. Or to find a weapon. Something to hit him with.
He hit her then, a blow to her face that sent her flying back on
the chair, whipping her head back and blinding her with pain once more.
He was apologizing, wildly apologizing. But he was also tying her to the chair. And she couldn’t get away. She couldn’t stop him.
A sob broke as Merritt realized she was isolated and alone. And at the complete mercy of a madman who had shown he wasn’t afraid to kill.
Chapter Forty-Two
The captain was in the backseat calling in backup to the warehouse. She had heard back from Gabe and Harry. They couldn’t say for sure if the person who tried to break in at the doctor’s house was Liam because the man’s face was obscured, but it looked like it could be.
The doctor recognized Liam’s name right away. Liam had blamed the doctor when his mother was moved out of the home, always believing the doctor could have done something to let her stay. The doctor had never understood it, but had always written it off as a child needing to lash out at something when there were so many thing he couldn’t control in his life.
Eric dialed Connie’s number and waited for the officer to answer as John drove hellbent for the warehouse.
“Hey Connie, can I talk to the kid?”
“Yeah, he’s uh, starting to ask where his mom is now. I think he’s realizing she should have come for him.”
Eric looked at his watch. They were still a good fifteen minutes away from the warehouse and he had no idea if this guy wanted to hurt Merritt or not.
His mind went to how fast fire could spread. How fast it could steal the breath from a person, searing their lungs and taking a life. Merritt’s life.
Hell, he wasn’t helping himself right now.
“Let me talk to him and then maybe you can grab a burger with him or something. I’m sorry, Connie. I know I’m asking you to babysit, but I need him with someone I trust right now. And he needs to be with someone who can keep him from worrying.”
“Yeah, sure,” Connie said, but Eric could hear the emotion the officer was trying to bury. Connie was still beating himself up over not having stopped their arsonist before. He probably thought he was being put on babysitting duty because they didn’t trust him on the case.