by Cynthia Eden
“The Butcher isn’t going to hurt anyone else.” Pride deepened his voice. “I did that.”
“Yes, you did . . . just as you stopped Forrest, didn’t you?” Getting his confession was step one. She’d heard it. A federal agent had heard it.
“Forrest wasn’t being rehabilitated. There is no such thing. He was in there, and he was hurting people. Summers should have stopped that. Should have stopped him. She let it happen, and now she’s paying for her crime.”
“Hurting other people . . . you’re talking about what he did to Chassity, aren’t you? He hurt her, and that’s how he wound up in the quiet room.”
“It’s nice and quiet for Dr. Summers now. She’s getting the treatment she needs.” Again, pride rang in his voice.
“How did you know he was hurting Chassity?” Ana asked him.
Silence.
That question made him uncomfortable.
“Did someone at the hospital tell you? And how did you know what Bernie was planning?”
“So many questions, Ana, but you don’t get the answers. It’s my turn.”
Cash mouthed the words, “We’ve got him.”
Yes! “Your turn for what?”
“To ask you . . . you want payback, too, don’t you?”
“No. No, the men who hurt me are dead.”
“But Cash Knox isn’t. He’s tied to your past, Ana. Don’t trust him. He’s one of the monsters.”
The perp didn’t know that Ana had already learned the truth. “What are you talking about?”
“We’ll be meeting soon, Ana. I’ll tell you everything then.” His voice dropped. “It’s nice . . . not to be alone.”
Then he disconnected the call. Ana stood there a moment, staring at Cash.
“Not going to happen,” he said grimly. “He is not getting you.”
But it had certainly sounded as if that was what the perp meant. He planned to meet her. So far, when people met the perp, they wound up dead.
Ana curled her trembling fingers around the phone. “He said that Dr. Summers was paying—was paying. Not that she’d paid. It sounds like she’s still alive.” Ana hoped so, anyway.
And it also sounded as if Dr. Summers was definitely not an accomplice, but a victim.
“Tell me your team got his location.”
Cash nodded. “FBI agents are moving in on the spot now.”
Hell, yes.
“I need you to come with me, Ana.” Cash said. “Stay with me. Work with me. My team could have the bastard in custody within the hour. And if that’s the case—”
“If that’s the case, then he’ll want to talk to someone. And that someone isn’t going to be you.” He’s one of the monsters. “Sarah thinks there were more victims. A lot more. We’ll need him to share everything that he’s done. He won’t share that with you.” But I think he will share it with me. Ana knew what she had to do. Determined now, she nodded. “I can get him to talk, I just proved that.”
“Does that mean we’re partners again?”
“It means I’ll come with you, I’ll stay until we have this guy pinned to the wall.” She’d just gotten him to confess directly to Bernie’s murder. She would get more. “And that’s all I’m promising.”
Cash nodded. “That’s all I want. You make the rules.”
She’d made rules before, and then instantly broken them, with him. For him. “Fine. Rule one, don’t touch me, Cash.” Because when he touched her . . . it hurt. In her heart. His touch made her want things that she shouldn’t. His touch confused her. It . . . “Just don’t.”
He nodded. “Not until you ask.”
Confident bastard.
“This time, we’ll be taking the FBI’s jet when we head to Virginia. It’s waiting at the airport. Let’s get the hell out there. This SOB isn’t going to play any more games. No more revenge.”
“No more payback,” Ana murmured.
If only it were true.
They rushed out of her office with Ana pausing only long enough to grab her jacket. But once they were outside, Asher was just walking out of the conference room. He saw them together and stiffened.
“I don’t have time for a fight,” Ana said flatly. Cash was in front of her, his pose protective. As if she needed protecting from her own brother. “The perp just called—again. I am in this, Asher. Whether I want to be or not. The FBI was able to get a lock on his signal, and Cash’s team is closing in. When they bring the guy into custody, I’m going to be there.”
Sarah appeared just behind Cash.
“If there were more victims,” Ana said, determined, “I will get him to tell us about them. That’s what LOST does, right? We find the missing. If he took people, if he made them vanish without a trace, I will find the truth.” She didn’t want to reveal too much about what Sarah had told her, so Ana hoped the other woman understood . . . If he killed Murphy, I swear, I will find out for you. I’ll give you the closure that you need.
Last night, she’d been hurting and she’d run, her only instinct to flee and protect herself. But that wasn’t who she was. She didn’t hide.
She stood her ground. She fought.
That would be exactly what she did now.
“My agents tracked his cell signal,” Cash said. “By the time we touch down in Virginia, they will have already closed in. They know time is of the essence, particularly if we’ve still got a live victim. They’re moving, and so are we.”
Asher looked like he wanted to argue—typical Asher—and he strode forward.
She saw Cash tense but . . .
“Do you need backup?” Asher asked. “Because LOST provides one hell of a backup team.”
Her breath eased out.
Cash nodded. “Don’t see why we can’t work together.” His head turned as he looked at Sarah. “Ana already told me I should get you to work up a profile. On the way here, I convinced my boss that two profilers are better than one. Especially when one of those profilers is Sarah Jacobs.” He nodded toward Sarah. “I’d be real interested in hearing what you have to say.”
Sarah flashed a quick smile. “Consider it done.”
“And as far as boots on the ground are concerned . . .” Cash glanced back at Asher, then said, “We have that covered now. But if anything changes, I’ll be sure to let your team know.” Then he hesitated. “Nothing will happen to Ana on my watch. I can assure you, I’m willing to do anything necessary to keep her safe.”
Asher laughed at Cash’s words. “You’ve got things all wrong, man. Ana is the one who will be watching your ass on this mission, and consider yourself very lucky for that fact. She’ll make sure that nothing happens to you.”
And that was precisely Ana’s plan. Because she might be pissed as all hell at Cash. She might be hurt. But no one else was taking a shot at him. And when the killer had said that Cash was a monster, that he had payback coming . . .
No. You won’t hurt him. Guess again.
FBI Agent Faye Comwell lifted her hand, giving the signal that it was time to approach the little cabin that sat at the end of Juniper Lane. It was the only cabin on that lane, nestled in Virginia’s Blue Ridge Mountains. Isolated, the perfect spot for a killer to use as his base. Her heart was pounding frantically in her chest, but her hand was dead steady. This was her first lead on a charge, and she wasn’t about to let Cash down. He trusted her to do this job, and she was absolutely going to do it.
The team was in place. They had backup from the local authorities. Let’s do this.
The techs had traced the call Ana Young received—they’d pinged towers and done all the weird tech-y stuff that the crew loved to do. And now they had their perp.
Her hand slid back to her side as the agents—all wearing bulletproof vests—kicked in the front door. They were going in hard and fast, a real blitz attack. That had been their plan all along.
To go in. To destroy. To wreck this guy’s carefully laid plans.
The little cabin was about ninety miles from River View Ps
ychiatric Hospital. And eighty miles from Wingate Penitentiary. Nearly dead center of the guy’s kill zone.
She swept in behind the team, her gun up, her body battle ready. There were no lights on inside—a check of the property had shown that the lights and water had been disconnected years ago. The place was abandoned, foreclosed. Forgotten.
Again, perfect for their killer.
When she went inside, a stale scent hit her. As if the cabin had been closed up for too long. A little rancid. Bad food? There wasn’t any furniture inside. Just plenty of dust. Cobwebs.
The agents were fanning out. Property records had shown that the place was just over fifteen hundred square feet. They had studied the layout of the property before moving in, and each agent had been assigned a room to search.
Those same property records had told Faye about the previous owner . . . Jonathan Bright, a former construction worked who’d retired to the area, then passed away thirteen years ago.
One of the agents called out, “Clear!” It was the first word to be spoken in that house.
Faye paced in the small living room. Old newspapers were on the floor. Everything had been cleared out—who’d done the clearing after Jonathan Bright died? She hadn’t been able to find any next of kin. And why were newspapers left behind? Yellowed, old newspapers.
Another agent echoed, “Clear!”
Dammit. Their perp wasn’t there. She’d just spotted a phone, tossed on the floor, near one of those yellowed pieces of paper.
“Nothing, Agent Comwell!” said a third agent. “No victim, no perp.”
Not anymore. She holstered her weapon. She put on her gloves and bent to pick up the phone. It would be bagged and tagged as evidence. “He was here,” she muttered. But he was gone now.
Gone . . . with Dr. Summers?
She rose and looked around that dark place. “Get a crime scene team in here, right away.” Maybe the perp had been a real dumbass and left prints or even DNA—just a little spit on that phone—for them to find. Cash had always told her that criminals had a habit of getting too cocky. Too assured.
And then they messed up. Had this guy messed up? They would be finding out soon.
Her gaze lingered on the yellowed newspaper. Curiosity drove her to bend down and her gloved fingers touched the paper.
It wasn’t a full sheet, though. More like a clipping.
Area girl disappears . . . family desperate for her return.
A clipping from fifteen years before.
Chapter Fourteen
“You’re sure?” Cash asked as he held his phone close. They were currently in the middle of their flight, a private flight on the FBI’s dime, and Ana tensed because she knew the news he was getting wasn’t good.
“Dammit, yes, I think he wanted us at that location for a reason. This guy is smart, we know that. Every single move he makes is calculated for maximum impact. That cabin matters. Get the crime scene team to do a thorough sweep and dig up every bit of information that you can find on the property’s previous owner.” He listened for a moment, his eyes narrowed. “Ana is with me. I’ll call you back when we touch down.”
He ended the call a few moments later and stared at her.
“Let me guess,” Ana murmured. “Our perp wasn’t at the location?”
“His phone was. Obviously, he wanted us to find the place. Why—well, that remains to be seen.”
She glanced away from him, staring out the window. “I seem to be flying a lot with you lately.”
“Ana, thank you for coming back with me.”
“I’m doing this for me, Cash, not for you. I want to see this case through to the end.” I don’t want him hurting you. “I’ve been thinking about what he said before, on the phone. He’s so deliberate. I wonder . . . he may have been telling us exactly where Dr. Summers was being kept.” She looked back at him. “He told us that Dr. Summers was paying for her crime.”
“He thinks she’s done something wrong.”
“Whether she has or not . . . he said it was quiet for her now.”
His eyes widened. “The quiet room. Forrest was in the quiet room right before he was taken.”
Ana nodded. “And he told us that Summers was getting treatment.” She bit her lower lip. “You get treatment in a mental hospital.”
Cash shook his head. “You’re saying they’re back in that place? Hell, the guards have been doubled at River View. No way can they be—”
“He couldn’t get Forrest out of there, so I don’t know that he’d be able to get Dr. Summers back in.” Her mind turned over the possibilities. The options. “Are there any other facilities like that in the area? Some place that would be easier for him to access?”
“Let’s find out.” Cash pulled out his laptop and his fingers flew over the keyboard.
Just what pain did the killer think Dr. Summers had doled out? Treatment. Had her treatment itself been the crime?
Cash’s fingers tapped quickly on the keys. Her gaze slid over his features. So tense. So determined. Looking at him last night had hurt her but now the shock was wearing off. When she looked at him, she just saw Cash.
Her heart hurt for what could have been.
He’s one of the monsters.
Cash gave a low whistle. “I think we’ve got something.” He looked up at her. “There’s a facility—way smaller scale—about an hour away from River View. It actually closed down when River View opened, and the place has been vacant for years.”
A chill slid over her body. “Wonder if they have a quiet room there.”
He looked back at his laptop, tapped some more. His eyes narrowed. “The place was called Bellhaven, and I swear, that name is familiar to me. It’s—” His jaw clenched. “Fuck, I think Dr. Summers used to work there. When I was researching her bio, I came across the place.”
“We need to get there,” Ana said. “Or if your team can get there faster—get them to her.”
He was shoving his laptop onto the nearby seat and rising. “I can get the pilot to reroute us. There’s a small airstrip near Bellhaven, one that the FBI has used before. And I’ll damn well be calling in the team. We’ll all swarm that place.”
But we have to do it fast. Because they didn’t know if Dr. Summers was still alive.
Or if she’d already received her full payback.
Bellhaven looked like an old church, one that had slowly begun to wither and die over time. Cash stared up at the heavy stone building. There was even a steeple right in the middle of that building, shooting toward the sky. Maybe it had been a church, once upon a time. Now, well, the place was just—
“Creepy,” Ana said from beside him.
She was right. It was.
“Got to say, Cash,” Ana murmured. “You’re bringing me to the most interesting places.”
No, he was bringing her to hell, but he wasn’t sending her in unarmed. They’d arrived at the old facility just moments before—and a black SUV was currently heading down the pothole-laden lane toward them. That was his team—he’d talked to Faye just moments before.
He reached into his duffel bag and pulled out a Glock. He offered it to Ana. “It’s loaded and ready to go.”
Her fingers closed over the weapon.
“If this bastard comes at you, Ana, don’t hesitate, understand? You fire.”
She nodded. “Don’t worry. I can—”
“Take care of yourself. Yeah, I know.” He stared at her as the SUV braked a few feet away. “Doesn’t mean I’m not scared as hell.”
One dark brow lifted. “Then I’m surprised that you’re letting me go inside at all.”
“Better to have you with me, at my side, than out here alone. The guy has been smart all along, playing his game, leading us on a chase. I don’t want to risk him coming after you while we’re in there searching the damn place for him.” Leaving her on her own? Hell, no, that wasn’t happening. Not now. “You stay with me, got it? Every step of the way.”
“I got it.” She checked
the weapon with quick competent movements. “And I’ll watch your back.”
She was so gorgeous. “Ana—”
The other agents were climbing from their SUV. Faye had extra bulletproof vests that she was carrying in her arms.
Cash cleared his throat. “Okay, we’re breaking into teams. We want to search this place, top to bottom.” They’d all come in quietly, hoping to have the element of surprise on their hands. But since the facility was so isolated, the perp could still have easily seen their vehicles if he’d been watching. Cash’s gaze slid to the sky. The sun was starting to set. There would be no power in that place, so they needed to get the hell in there and get moving as fast as he could. “Make sure you’re all carrying flashlights, got it? Stay together, teams of two every moment. Ana will be with me.” He handed Ana a flashlight that had been in his duffel bag. “We could have a victim in there. So let’s get the hell inside and get her out.”
His team was a well-oiled machine. They knew how to storm a building and he backed up, letting Faye take the lead. She was a damn good agent, one of the best he’d worked with, and he had total confidence in her—and in every member of his team.
They raced quickly toward Bellhaven. Cash had thought they’d need to break down the main doors but when he got close enough, he saw that the doors were already open. A heavy chain lay on the ground, cut in the middle.
Sonofabitch . . . he’s here.
He knew the others were thinking the same thing. A heavy tension swept over their group, and they filed in fast, taking up ready positions with their guns.
The walls inside were a dirty yellow, with hanging chunks of wallpaper and peeling paint everywhere. A staircase led up to the next floor, and a thick coat of grime covered what had once been white steps. Faye motioned, indicating that half of the group—there were eight of them in all, counting him and Ana—would go upstairs. Cash stayed below, and when the other ground-level team went left, he and Ana went right. The doors to the patient rooms were open, and he looked inside, doing a sweep with his gun at the ready. He saw the old beds that had been left behind. Just the bed railings, the springs—no mattresses.