by Charly Cox
The Toybox
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
A Letter From Charly
Acknowledgements
Copyright
Cover
Table of Contents
Start of Content
The Toybox
Charly Cox
For Mary McAfee – one of the strongest, bravest, most giving women I’ve ever known.
And
For Kerrie and Victoria – for everything.
Chapter One
Saturday, May 18
The thumping bass from the stereo reverberated through Rachel’s body and drove nails through her temple, and no matter where she moved in the house, the bass followed her. Having just reached the tail end of a nasty cold, she hadn’t really wanted to hit the frat party where the booze flowed freely, and for some, so did the drugs, but her friend Anna insisted she attend this epic celebration. Marking the end of finals, the end of her freshman year of college, and the beginning of summer break, it was the most anticipated bash of the year. How Anna had heard about the party before her was a mystery since she didn’t even attend the University of New Mexico. In the end it hadn’t taken much to convince Rachel since she wouldn’t normally have hesitated if she hadn’t been feeling under the weather.
Following Anna’s advice, she donned her shortest skirt – which was still two inches longer than the one Anna wore – and her new crimson halter top with the sparkly embroidered stars strategically placed to cover her breasts. She swiped on fire engine red lipstick, threw on a couple of coats of mascara, and dabbed her favorite perfume behind her ears and on her cleavage before determining she was ready. She didn’t need the full-length mirror to tell her she was walking sex in heels. Her family had hit the beauty jackpot, so she was used to – and sometimes craved – the appreciative stares from the men and envious ones from the women.
Within minutes of walking through the door, Anna ditched Rachel in favor of flirting with some pop star wannabe who looked to be stuck in the eighties with his bleached blond mullet, flipped-up collar, and scratched penny loafers. Rachel shook her head. Maybe Anna could convince the guy to fast forward to the new millennium at least. Sticking to the edges of the room, she sipped from the beer placed in her hand the second she’d hit the front door and headed to the only group of girls she recognized – even though she didn’t know a single one of them by name – but before she could reach them, they disappeared into the thick of the crowd. An hour later, she lost track of Anna completely. The last she’d seen her she’d been sneaking up the stairs with some guy who wasn’t the pop star wannabe.
* * *
Rachel lifted the blue plastic cup to her lips, trying to figure out when she’d gotten another beer. She vaguely recalled some guy wearing a wife-beater removing her empty cup. Maybe he’d handed her another? A sudden throbbing pain in her right temple coupled with an increasing heaviness in her limbs forced her to lean against a wall for balance. She was beginning to fear she’d been overly optimistic about being at the end of her cold. Clearly, coming to this party hadn’t been the greatest idea after all.
As soon as she was certain she wouldn’t topple over, she set her sights on the couch a few feet away, wanting nothing more than to collapse onto it and give in to this crushing fatigue. A warning buzzed in the back of her mind reminding her that falling asleep at a party was risky and never a good idea, but she really just needed to close her eyes for a minute. Then she’d go find Anna and convince her it was time to leave.
Inches from the couch, someone bumped into her, sloshing her with what reeked of whiskey. ‘Oops.’ A sandy-haired guy latched onto her elbow while simultaneously stepping further into her personal space.
She tipped her head back so she wouldn’t be staring at his pectorals, regretting it when the room began spinning. When it finally stopped, she narrowed her eyes in an effort to focus. He wasn’t someone she recognized or even someone she’d normally enjoy flirting with. She just wasn’t into guys who bathed in cheap cologne, athletes, or guys who wore jeans so tight they might as well be denim-painted skin. Nor was she impressed with the way he rolled up the sleeves of his red t-shirt sporting a white Lobos logo to emphasize his biceps. In her experience, he was the type of person who thought a cute smile would land him anyone he chose.
A point he proved when he smirked and lowered his head, making clear his intention. She jerked her head to the side, so instead of her mouth, his lips grazed her cheeks – and so did his tongue. A chill raced over her skin, making her shiver. She simply wasn’t in the mood to fend off his unwanted advances.
‘I have to go find my friend.’ When had her tongue grown to twice its size? Mixing alcohol with the cold medicine she’d taken as a precaution before leaving must be screwing with her more than she thought. Nothing about this felt right.
Athlete Guy raked his eyes down her body and back up, pausing the longest on her chest, head cocked to the side as his tongue snaked out and swiped across his bottom lip. ‘I can be your friend, baby. I can be your real good friend.’ Amusement gave his voice an almost lyrical quality. Keeping his grip tight on her arm, he took three steps back and collapsed onto the couch, tugging so that she toppled onto the cushion beside him. He forced her back, crushing her between his chest and the arm of the sofa.
Anger and panic wormed its way through the fuzz in her head as he swatted away her efforts to shove him away. A cold sweat broke out over her skin, and tears sprang to her eyes when his calloused palm snaked up her thigh, shoving her skirt higher as he did.
She swallowed and concentrated on making her mouth form the word stop as he traced his lips along her neck and over the shell of her ear, his alcohol and pot-fueled breath hitting her face and sending a wave of nausea through her. Heart hammering, she jerked her head away, causing the headache sitting just behind her eyes to send a slashing pain through her skull.
‘Let go of me right now, or I
’ll scream.’ She barely managed to move the threat past her frozen throat.
With a sound of contempt, the guy shoved her away and stood, towering over her. Eyes narrowed, he made a point of slowly taking in every inch of her bared skin. ‘A bit of advice, babe: if you’re not willing to sell it, don’t advertise.’ He threw a final glare over his shoulder before he disappeared into the crowd.
Rachel pressed the heel of her hand against her chest, convinced her heart was trying to escape. She really wished she’d stayed home instead of listening to Anna. Which reminded her… she still had to find her friend if she was ever going to get out of this place.
She swiveled her head to the stairs. Was it her imagination, or had the distance increased since she’d last seen them? With an effort, and after two tries, she managed to push herself up from the couch, but as she forced her way through the throng of bodies and loud voices, she found herself turned around and in the kitchen. Since it wasn’t as crowded in here, she took a second to take a full breath that didn’t include inhaling copious amounts of cheap cologne and flowery perfume.
Exhaling slowly, she rested her head against the wall. She hadn’t been this miserable at the height of her cold. It didn’t make sense that two beers had made her feel this out of it. Hell, that rarely even gave her a good buzz. And standing here wasn’t getting her any closer to home, so she forced her feet to move.
Keeping her eyes on the open doorway and one hand on whatever it could find, she was halfway across the kitchen when a tall guy with a massive chest bumped into her, almost knocking her down as well as blocking her path.
Out of necessity she gripped his upper arms to avoid falling, a sense of déjà vu washing over her. She really hated this party. She tilted her head back and glared up at him.
He returned her glare with a leer, placed one hand against the wall beside her head, and leaned in. ‘Hoping for some action, babe?’ She would’ve rolled her eyes if she could’ve mustered the energy. ‘You’re blocking my way.’ She forced the words over her thick tongue and past her dry mouth as she tried to move around him. He stopped her by pressing up against her.
His hot breath washed over her cheek as he leaned down to whisper. ‘What’s the big hurry? Why don’t we go somewhere and’ – he winked – ‘get to know each other better?’ He trailed one finger up her neck.
A quiver started in her stomach and worked its way up, and once again she found herself trying to form words, but before she could, a very drunk couple groping each other knocked into his back, leaving just enough room for her to wriggle around him. As she made her escape, she heard him grunt and mutter, ‘You probably suck in the sack anyway.’
Shaken and annoyed from both encounters now, her eyes flickered to the stairs, and for a few precious seconds, she considered leaving without Anna. After all, if it hadn’t been for her insistence, she wouldn’t even be here right now, dealing with these asshats. But she knew she wouldn’t leave her friend behind, so instead of heading back to her dorm, she headed to the second floor.
What felt like a lifetime later, she was finally at the top of the stairs. As she paused to catch her breath, she counted at least a dozen rooms with closed doors. Apparently, locating Anna wasn’t going to be as easy as she’d hoped. Her mood turned as dark as night, and she leaned against the nearest wall and closed her eyes – which added the highly unbeneficial effect of making the room spin like a merry-go-round. She was never mixing cold medicine with alcohol again. No, she was never drinking again. Ever.
Once her equilibrium was somewhat restored, she sucked in several gulps of air. Then, using the wall for support, she made her way to the first door, knocked, and pushed it open without waiting for an answer, interrupting the occupants and continuing until, finally, near the end of the long hall, with only three rooms left, she found Anna lying on a bed with her skirt shoved to her waist and her shirt opened, exposing a flat stomach and a belly button ring. A shirtless guy stood next to the bed fumbling with his pants. She recognized him – he had handed them a beer when they arrived – and he was not the same man Anna had headed upstairs with.
What was his name? Charles? Chase? And then she didn’t care because the first words out of his mouth when he turned to see who had interrupted were, ‘Come to join the party? I always say, the more the merrier.’
Seriously? As of right this second, she was swearing off frat parties, too.
Anna snickered and lifted one hand to wiggle her fingers in what could’ve meant hello or come here. Either way, it was time to get her out.
Grateful for a door to hold onto, Rachel ignored the guy still struggling with his zipper and said, ‘Lezzgo.’ She swallowed and tried again, this time enunciating each word like she was learning a new language. ‘Let’s. Go.’
To her surprise and delight, Anna agreed. ‘’Kay,’ she giggled. ‘Help m’yup.’ Her words slurred together in two smooth syllables.
And while Rachel wasn’t convinced she’d be much help, she was willing to try, so she stumbled forward with an unsteady gait, made all the more unsteady because of her high heels, and headed to the bed where she reached out a hand to help her friend up.
But instead of pulling her up, Anna dragged her down, laughing.
The bed was softer than she’d expected and closing her eyes felt like the best idea in the whole world. ‘Need to leave,’ she muttered, trying to resist sinking further into the inviting mattress, but kind of forgetting why she needed to resist at all.
* * *
It was the last thing Rachel remembered before waking with the hounds of hell trying to claw their way out of her skull. Not to mention that her mouth felt like a sock had been stuffed inside it. Garnering what little moisture she could, she ran her tongue over teeth that felt like the fuzzy outside of a peach.
Every inch of her body hurt, and she groaned, one hand reaching up to cup her sore, scratchy throat. She shifted in an effort to ease the aches, realizing as she did that the bed had seemed far plusher and more comfortable last night – not so scratchy and worn or… foul-smelling.
A chill in the air caused goosebumps to dot her arms and legs, making them feel like the gravelly road to her grandpa’s house. Someone must’ve cranked the air conditioner to its maximum. Maybe Anna could convince the guy from last night to turn it off. And grab her a warmer blanket.
Hushed, frantic whispers she couldn’t quite make out forced her to crack one eye halfway open. The gloom of a dimly lit room greeted her, so she willed the other eye to join its partner, which it did, but with an effort.
Ignoring the needling pain shooting through her temples, she shook her head at the unfamiliar surroundings… and the four shocked faces staring back at her – none of whom were Anna.
Chapter Two
Monday, May 20
It had been a long, exhausting weekend – in fact, it had been a long, exhausting six weeks for Detective Alyssa Wyatt, so she was more than just a little ready to dive headfirst back into work. Not that she was excited about the possibility of another missing person, but at least it gave her mind something else to focus on besides her last case.
Climbing out of her car, she spotted her partner Cord Roberts standing at the precinct door, politely holding it open for her. Ever the gentleman. ‘How did it go?’ he asked as soon as she was within hearing distance.
Her jaw clenched. It was referring to her quick weekend trip to Indiana where she had buried the cremains of her deceased brother, Timmy, who had been kidnapped when he was only four years old. For the past three and a half decades, she had believed him dead, only to discover that not only was he very much alive, but he was in fact the serial killer responsible for the string of gruesome, torturous murders of several young women that she had been investigating. After discovering his true identity, Timmy, known then as Evan Bishop, devised a plan to exact revenge on Alyssa and her family for what he perceived as Alyssa’s failure to save him as a child. The first part of that plan came in the form of Bishop impersona
ting an officer, telling her son she’d been badly injured in an accident and he was there to rush Isaac to the hospital, and kidnapping him when Isaac climbed into the car.
‘It went.’
‘Fair enough.’ He fell into step behind her.
‘Morning, Ruby,’ Alyssa said to the department secretary as she passed by the front desk.
Instead of a return greeting, the older woman peered over the top of her spectacles and in her usual, disgruntled tone, said, ‘Captain Hammond needs to speak with both of you in his office. Right away.’ She gave Alyssa a knowing look, then dismissed the two of them by returning to whatever she’d been doing before they’d walked in.
Cord rapped the top of the counter with his knuckles. ‘Thanks, Ruby.’ He winked at Alyssa when the older woman grunted in what passed for only Ruby knew what.
As she navigated her way to the captain’s office, Alyssa allowed the familiar chaotic noises of a busy precinct to calm and help her get her mind back in the game where it belonged, where she liked it.
Steps away from knocking on Hammond’s door, Hal Callum, one of her favorite go-to guys on her team and one of the best researchers in all of the Albuquerque Police Department, blocked her path when he rolled up, his old-fashioned wheelchair emitting a low squeak as the wheels turned. Alyssa shook her head at the unusual frown covering Hal’s face. ‘You know they have motorized chairs now?’
His answer was a growl. ‘Don’t you start with me, too.’
Years ago, Hal had been shot in the line of duty, paralyzing him from the waist down. For a time, he’d seriously contemplated suicide, but in the end decided he had far too much to live for, namely his wife and children.
For as long as Alyssa could remember, he’d refused to consider a motorized chair, insisting the manual ones helped keep his upper body strength in good condition. Problem was, in the past month, his old chair had begun showing its age.
‘How did things go in Indiana?’
She should’ve known that was why he’d intercepted her. Biting back an irritated sigh, she gave the same response she’d given Cord. ‘It went.’ Though she knew they cared, sooner or later – preferably sooner – they’d have to realize this was a conversation she’d like to avoid. She maneuvered around the wheelchair and knocked on the captain’s door, ignoring Cord’s shrug when Hal crinkled his forehead in concern.