Twisted

by Cynthia Eden

  Dean ended the call. “His men are going to keep searching. They’re spreading the word about Ricker. The more people who know about the bastard, the better. The FBI is trying to keep this thing under wraps, but that can’t happen. We need to shut down Ricker’s escape avenues. Turn him into a wanted man, a man who doesn’t have anyplace to run.”

  He spoke of Ricker with such hatred. Such rage. She didn’t have the energy for her own rage just then. “Stay with me.”

  He pulled a chair closer to the bed. “Nothing would take me away.”

  That was sweet. She knew he didn’t actually mean the words, but after everything that had happened, they were good to hear.

  She turned her head on the pillow, so that she could study him better. “You seem different.” Emma couldn’t quite put her finger on what the change was, but something had altered him.

  “Fear can change everything.”

  Her voice was a rasp when she said, “I didn’t think you feared anything.”

  “I met you.” Soft. “You changed a hell of a lot for me. More than I realized.”

  She should try to read him. See if he was lying . . . look for those little tells but . . . she didn’t want to know that he was just saying what she needed to hear. Didn’t want his words to be a careful falsehood designed just to get her through the bad moments.

  She wanted him to be serious. She wanted him to care about her. More than his job. More than his revenge. More than anything.

  She’d never mattered that much to anyone but her father. Wouldn’t it be great, wouldn’t it be so wonderful, to have someone care that much again?

  Her breath whispered out, and her lashes began to fall.

  “NO, YOU DAMN well can’t talk to Emma now. She’s resting!”

  The angry growl of Dean’s voice pushed through the fog that clouded Emma’s mind. She blinked her eyes, and the room around her came into focus. The room was dark, with faint light shining through the blinds. For a moment, panic seemed to flood her, then she realized—

  Hospital. I’m in the hospital.

  “I talked to her, okay? I asked her what she remembered.” Dean’s voice was close and definitely angry. She turned her head. A white curtain was attached to the ceiling, and Dean was on the other side of the privacy curtain, talking to someone at her door. “She didn’t see her attacker. Ricker came up from behind her. The SOB slammed her head into one of those crypts, then he put her in the sarcophagus. She can’t tell you anything else about him—”

  “She’s a material witness.”

  Emma stiffened. That voice belonged to Agent Cormack. Kevin. I won’t go with him again. Her fingers rose and curled around the bedsheet.

  “She’s a recovering victim, and you are to stay the hell away from her, do you understand?” Dean’s voice was still low. Still obviously furious.

  “We need a description of her attacker—”

  Emma sat up in the bed. She was wearing one of those paper-thin hospital gowns, and the thing was sending a draft over her back as she tried to move to the edge of her mattress. She slid down and her feet hit the floor. A very icy, tiled floor.

  “Ricker wore a disguise when we saw him before,” Dean snapped. “Look, Julia is awake. Sarah told me the news not thirty minutes ago. Go talk to Julia. She can tell you what the guy looked like when he took her. Emma didn’t see Ricker—”

  “It’s not Ricker.”

  Her knees almost buckled.

  “At least, that’s what your forensic anthropologist is saying.”

  Emma squinted as she stared at the clock on the wall. It was nearing seven a.m. She’d been out far longer than she’d thought. She’d been so sure she’d only closed her eyes for a few seconds.

  “Jared Ricker is dead,” Kevin said flatly. “He’s the skeleton that was in the sarcophagus with your fortune- teller.”

  Her hand flew out and hit the bedside tray. The remote fell to the floor with a clatter, and Emma almost followed it down. Had the nurse drugged her? What the hell? Why was she so weak?

  The curtain jerked back. Dean stared at her with wide eyes. “Emma!” He hurried forward and scooped her into his arms. Carefully, he put her back into the bed.

  Had he missed that she was trying to get away from the bed? She’d wanted to find some clothes and get out of that place.

  “I need to talk with you, Ms. Castille,” Kevin said as he strode forward.

  Dean spun toward him. “Get out. Now. Emma has been through enough.”

  “She was with the killer! A killer we don’t know at all! We were all operating under the assumption that Ricker was behind the crimes because you found his DNA on the coat with Lisa Nyle, but he isn’t the perp. The real killer was setting all of that up. Playing with us.”

  A wave of nausea rolled through Emma. She didn’t know if it was caused by the blow to the head or by Kevin’s news. “Are you sure about this?” Her voice was raspy.

  “Victoria Palmer is sure. She’s the forensic anthropologist that LOST sent in, the woman who is supposed to be the best. She saw the marks on the guy’s bones.” He pointed at Dean. “Marks you left when you shot him on that mountain. And then she realized that the fractures she was seeing all along the skeleton were consistent with a substantial fall. Jared Ricker didn’t live to escape that day on the mountain. He plunged to his death. You killed him, Dean. And now . . . someone else is out there, hunting.”

  Someone who knew all about Ricker. All about Dean.

  “She called me on the way here and told me that dental records confirmed the guy’s identity. Ricker is now on a slab at the morgue. He won’t hurt anyone ever again.” Kevin huffed out a breath. “But it wasn’t him that we have to worry about. Not this time.”

  Puzzle pieces were flying in Emma’s mind. She’d been put in there with Ricker because . . . “He wanted you to find Ricker’s body. He knew you’d look for me, and he wanted you to know . . .” Her breath felt cold in her lungs. “This is . . . it’s all about you?”

  She thought back. She’d found the message in her apartment . . . after she’d talked with Dean. She’d first met him the day before, when he’d come to the square and asked her about Julia. Dean had gotten intimately close that day, so close that Beau had to come to her aid, thinking that she’d been having a problem with a customer.

  Then the next day, Dean had returned to her. They’d met again in the square. She and Dean had gone to her apartment together that day and found the wreckage.

  Now she had to wonder, had the killer found her . . . through Dean?

  “You search for the missing.” She grabbed for the covers, feeling far too exposed in her hospital gown. “Julia . . . did the guy know that her mother would contact LOST? Was this all some big game to get you down here?”

  Dean’s eyes had narrowed. “That’s not possible. There are too many variables . . .”

  “Are there?” Kevin demanded. “Because the fact that Ricker’s body was pretty much freaking bow-tied for us and left with your girlfriend, well, that makes me think this killer sure as hell wanted to send you some kind of personal message. I just don’t know what that message is.” He stalked toward Emma’s hospital bed. “I need to know everything that happened.”

  “I don’t remember much.” She lifted her hand to the side of her head. The stitches felt tender, tugging lightly on the skin. “I was about to slip out of the cemetery, but he caught me from behind. H-he slammed my head forward, into the crypt wall, and I guess I passed out then.” It was all so foggy in her mind. “When I woke up, I was in that place. With the skeleton.”

  “How do you know it was a he?” Kevin pounced. “If you didn’t see your attacker . . .”

  “I heard his voice. He told me that I was next.” And she had been. “It was a man’s voice. Low. Rasping. He also said something about . . . fun.” She couldn’t recall the exact words. “The fun was about to begin? Or maybe . . . time for the fun to start?” Emma shook her head. “I-I can’t remember, not for sure.”


  Dean had turned to stone before her.

  “Had you ever heard that voice before?” Kevin asked her.

  Her hands locked around the covers. “He was disguising his voice, I think. It was too low for normal. So I-I don’t know for certain if I’d heard it before.” And that terrified her. What if the killer had been in her life, and she hadn’t known it? He’d disguised himself before, so . . . he could be anyone.

  “And he wasn’t in the crypt when you woke up?”

  “I don’t know.” She hated thinking about the crypt. “I was in the stone coffin when I woke up. I don’t know where he was.”

  “But you—”

  Dean pulled the guy away from the bed. “She doesn’t know anything else. Give her some space.”

  Kevin shot another glance her way. “I don’t know what the hell is going on,” he told Dean, his voice lowering so that Emma had to strain in order to hear him. “This doesn’t make sense. How the hell did Ricker’s remains get all the way down to the Big Easy? Did this other killer find him in the mountains? I mean, shit, what is happening?” He raked his hand over his face. “Man, this is a serious clusterfuck.”

  Yes, it was. “Maybe . . .” Emma began.

  Both men turned at her voice.

  “Maybe there was never one killer,” she said softly. “If someone had to take him out of the mountains, then maybe someone else was there all along. Someone who knew what Ricker had been doing. Someone who understood Ricker’s connection to Dean.” It made sense to her.

  Kevin backed up a step. “There was never any sign of a partner.”

  But Dean shook his head. “Did we look hard enough? I mean, Ricker was there that night. He was the one attacking me with the knife. I never thought to even check to see if another killer could be there.”

  Kevin seemed to go pale. “Two of those bastards? This whole time? Two?”

  Dean crossed his arms over his chest. “The docs told us Julia would be more aware soon. You should find out what she knows. Maybe the guy said or did something that can tip us off to his identity. I mean, she was there with him for days. She must have seen his face, right?”

  Kevin nodded. “I’ll get her to talk.” But then he looked over at Emma. “We aren’t done yet. I’ll be back for you.”

  She shivered. “I’ll be here.”

  She was in the hospital. Where the hell else could she go?

  JULIA FINNEY KNEW that she was going to die.

  Sure, the machines around her were beeping steadily, the nurse had just come in to tell her that her vitals were getting stronger, and her mother, well, her mother had told her at least a dozen times that everything would be okay.

  They were wrong.

  Nothing would ever be okay again. Especially not her.

  Her mother had slipped away. Gone to call some relatives. People who’d never given a shit about Julia when she lived in Atlanta.

  She’d learned a few things in the last few days. During all of that time, when that jerk had kept her, she’d learned . . .

  You don’t have anyone in this world but yourself.

  Julia grabbed at the tube leading to her arm. She wasn’t just going to stay in that hospital. What if he came back? He’d promised her she’d go home, but she knew now that his words were a lie.

  She couldn’t go home again. Couldn’t live with the others and pretend to be normal.

  It hurt when the IV came out. When she tried to stand, she fell on her face. But Julia crawled for the door.

  She wouldn’t let him catch her again.

  Not ever again.

  “IF HE’S GOING to talk with Julia, you should be there.” Emma’s voice was low.

  Dean shook his head. “I’m not leaving you.”

  Her lips twisted, but the movement was too faint to be a smile. “Give me a guard. I suspect there are plenty of cops and FBI agents running around this place. Get someone to stay with me, then go.”

  “No.”

  Her fingers toyed with the covers. “I want to know what she has to say, Dean. This man—we have to stop him. Go see what you can learn. You were the one looking for her. You were the one who learned the most about her life.” The intensity in her voice deepened. “You can get her to talk. I don’t think Kevin can.”

  His brows climbed.

  “I sure wouldn’t tell him anything,” she added a bit darkly. Then she sighed. “Look, just go, okay? I’d be in there if I could, but my legs feel like jelly. Go to her. Explain what happened to me. Get her to help us to stop him.”

  He looked toward the door. Hesitated.

  “We have to do it,” Emma pressed. “I don’t think the guy is ever going to stop on his own. I get the feeling that his game . . . it’s really just getting started.”

  He feared the same thing. Dean pulled out his phone. Called one of the few men he trusted. Wade answered on the second ring. “Where are you?” Dean asked him.

  “On my way to your lady’s room.”

  Dean exhaled. Good. Wade would keep her safe.

  “Should be there in just a few minutes,” Wade added.

  THE MACHINES IN Julia’s room wouldn’t stop beeping. As soon as she’d pulled out the IV, the beeping had gone crazy. So she moved as quickly as she could, crawling, twisting, shoving herself, and she managed to get out of the room just before the nurse hurried over.

  Julia flattened herself near the closest wall as the nurse rushed by. They’d moved her to a private room earlier, and she’d tried to take note of her surroundings. Her mother had been crying and telling her how sorry she was . . .

  I’m sorry too, Mom. Sorry that she couldn’t be what her mother needed her to be.

  Julia risked a glance around the corner, then . . . she saw him.

  His back was to her as he paused at the nurses’ station but he was familiar. Same broad shoulders. Same deep, rumbling voice.

  He’d found her.

  Her whole body shuddered as she backed away. No, no, this wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to find her like this.

  She didn’t want him to use his knife on her again.

  A moan slipped from her.

  Then a doctor walked past, blocking her view of the man at the nurses’ station. She strained, trying to see him, but . . .

  He was gone.

  She backed away. Her bare feet curled over the cold tile. Her gown gaped open.

  “Miss?”

  She whirled and found a nurse staring at her.

  “Miss, are you all right?”

  No, she wasn’t.

  “Can I help you?”

  Julia looked back over her shoulder. He was gone. But he’d been there.

  “You’re bleeding,” the nurse said.

  Julia looked down at her arm. She was bleeding where the IV had been. And her gown was wet with blood, too. Had she broken some stitches when she fell in her room?

  “Let me help you.” The nurse tried to reach for her.

  Julia screamed and punched her. Then she was running, running as fast as she could for the stairs. She’d seen the sign for them before, when they’d moved her to the private room. The stairs. They would get her out of there.

  She hit the door that led into the stairwell. Up or down . . . up or down . . .

  Julia went up.

  Because she knew that she was going to die.

  DEAN HEADED TOWARD Julia’s room, only when he got there, Kevin and two nurses were running out.

  “She’s gone!” Kevin said. He glanced frantically around the area. “The girl took her IV out and left!”

  Dean could hear crying. When he looked inside the hospital room, he saw Julia’s mother, sitting in a chair near the bed, rocking back and forth, as tears slid down her cheek.

  “I want the hospital locked down!” Kevin demanded. A security guard had just run up to him. “We need to find Julia Finney!”

  Why had Julia disappeared? When the guard rushed away from Kevin, Dean joined the FBI agent.

 
“The girl ran into the stairwell!”

  Dean whirled around and saw a nurse pointing to the left.

  “I tried to stop her,” she said, “but the girl was panicked! She wouldn’t let me help her!”

  Dean and Kevin both took off running for the stairs. Dean shot through the open door. He looked down and saw—Jax?

  Yes, that was Jax rushing up the stairs.

  The guy’s thundering footsteps seemed to reverberate through the stairwell.

  “Have you seen Julia Finney?” Dean demanded.

  Jax froze on the stairs. “I thought we covered this shit. You found her, remember? I’m here because I want to see her and Emma.”

  Kevin swore and started running up the stairs. They were on the third floor, so Dean didn’t understand why Julia would have gone up. If she’d been looking for escape, she would have run down to the first floor.

  Unless . . .

  Now Dean was swearing as he took off up the stairs. Jax called out after him, but Dean didn’t stop. Not then.

  They flew past the fourth floor.

  The fifth.

  The sixth.

  Then Kevin burst out onto the roof. The door flew back as Kevin raced forward. “Julia Finney!” Kevin bellowed.

  Dean rushed onto the roof after him. He looked to the left. Hurried forward. Peered right. “Julia! We want to help you!” He turned and saw Jax standing a few feet away. The guy had followed them up.

  But Dean didn’t see Julia.

  Maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe she hadn’t been running up to the roof. Maybe she’d gone into the stairwell, but when she’d heard Jax’s footsteps, she’d panicked and run up a flight or two. They should go down and search the lower floors for her.

  He swept to the left once more, rounding a corner.

  And there she was.

  Julia was standing on the edge of the roof, her hospital gown fluttering around her, her hair hanging down her back and blood dripping from her hand. Julia looked like an angel right then, one poised a step away from falling.

  He didn’t call out to her. Dean was afraid that if he did, she might panic and slip. Instead, he took slow, cautious steps toward her. From the corner of his eye, he saw Kevin jerk to attention, and he knew his ex-partner had just spotted Julia, too. Like Dean, Kevin didn’t call out. He just started inching closer and closer to her.