by Katee Robert
“It’s not that simple. Travis Berkley was convicted of twenty-one counts of first-degree murder. In order to get that sentence overturned, he would have to prove that the trial was unfair—not that he was innocent.”
Dante picked up a fry. “What I don’t understand is why he didn’t come forward with the knowledge that he was a twin. It should have been enough to create reasonable doubt and result in a not-guilty sentence.”
Lei’s stomach twisted in on itself. “Unless Britton was right all along, and they were both there that night. The only way reasonable doubt works is if the court doesn’t know which twin is guilty. If they’re both guilty, they both go to jail, just like normal people. If Travis was the dominant partner, he could have convinced his twin to take the fall for him—especially since the twin was going to be convicted anyway.” She didn’t doubt for a second Travis was capable of it. He had been an expert manipulator, and getting other people to do what he wanted was his forte. Lei didn’t know how the twins had found each other, and the chances of two sociopaths in a single family . . . She didn’t know the odds, but they had to be astronomical.
That meant Travis must have convinced his twin—Trevor?—to participate in the murders, and then he took it a step further and let him take the fall.
What the hell did you say to him to make that happen? Was it a long, drawn-out process?
Or did he already have the same urges imprinted in his DNA, the same as you?
She had no answers.
While she was lost in thought, the conversation had moved beyond her.
Britton nodded to Dante. “Our priority right now is catching Berkley. Then it will be up to the courts to decide how to handle the twin. If it’s as I suspect and the twin was actually in the house that night, he’ll have a separate trial. It’s a moot point at the moment.”
Focus on finding Travis.
More likely that he’s going to find me.
“Lei.”
She glanced at Dante and found him looking at her with those soulful dark eyes. “Yeah.”
“We will find him. We’ll put a stop to all of this. It will be okay.”
She wished she could believe him. It was so easy to say that of course it would be okay and the good guys would win and vanquish the evil monster lurking in the dark. That wasn’t how life worked—not always. Sometimes the monster won. Sometimes the good guys fell in the line of duty, and sometimes cases went unsolved for decades.
Sometimes they went unsolved forever.
As if she needed more proof of that than finding long-since-decayed bodies with Saul, there was Emma’s software. Thousands upon thousands of missing persons. Just as many Jane and John Does. Both data banks increasing daily.
She wanted Dante’s comfort as much as she’d wanted a hug from Britton. But both were ultimately a lie. They couldn’t guarantee her safety and get Travis captured, or they would have accomplished it by then.
And what about Clarke?
How did her disappearance play into this?
She managed a smile for Dante but turned to Britton before she could get distracted. “Do you have any news about Clarke?”
“Not enough.” Britton leaned back, his salad untouched in front of him. “We found her vehicle abandoned in Portland, but we can’t guarantee that she drove it down there. It’s not far in the grand scheme of things, but I’m inclined to think it’s a red herring to make us look south instead of here in Seattle. It would have been easy enough for the unsub to drive it down there, ditch it, and catch a train back north. All in the space of a day, even.”
Which meant they had a whole lot of nothing to show for all their searching.
She forced herself to take a bite of her sandwich, chew slowly, and swallow. “You said unsub. Are you using that as a generic term, or do you think it’s the same unsub who is killing the girls?” Do you think Travis did this, too?
There wasn’t a damn doubt in her mind that Travis was behind this. She’d suspected it from the start and almost convinced herself that it was really all in her head, only to be vindicated in the end. That was the problem, though—she hadn’t wanted to be vindicated. She wanted to be proven wrong, to go back to her assurance that she could face down whatever the world threw at her because she’d already survived the worst there was.
Except she hadn’t survived—not yet.
He was coming for her.
Britton was talking, his even words drawing her back to the table and the discussion. Again. “While it’s entirely possible that we’re dealing with two perpetrators, I think he knew Clarke would be in that spot at that time, and he planned for it.”
Dante draped an arm over the back of Lei’s chair. It was a casual move that he did while his mind was obviously a thousand miles away, but she saw Britton mark it with the slightest raising of his eyebrows. Dante tapped his finger against the chair. “Have you checked her phone?”
“Of course. There were half a dozen calls to and from numbers we’ve traced back to local restaurants. All were busy during the lunch hour of the day she was taken, so they don’t remember if they spoke to her or not. On the surface it would appear she was trying to order lunch, which I highly doubt, since Clarke liked fast-food burgers and the no-nonsense of a drive-through, but we have no way to confirm why she would be calling those places or why they would be calling her back.”
Covering his tracks.
Travis always was too smart for everyone else’s own good. “They’re all within walkable distance of each other.”
“They are.” Britton took a drink of his iced tea. “We’re working on getting security footage, but it’s difficult without support of the local police.”
From what she understood, they hadn’t been really helpful from the start. Lei understood, even if she didn’t forgive it. The LAPD hadn’t wanted to believe that there was a monster lurking locally, either. There was a rumor for the first night or so that a drifter had broken into the Omega Delta Lambda house and murdered those girls, and Lei and Emma were so traumatized by it that they were making up crazy tales about it being an upstanding member of society.
Dante’s thumb touched her back, an offering of silent support. He nodded. “Detective Smith isn’t so bad, but he’s in over his head, and he’s not reacting well to that fact. You’ll figure it out. You always do.”
Lei’s phone trilled. She started to apologize but frowned when she saw it wasn’t Emma calling. It was an unknown number. It took her two tries to get her shaking under control enough to answer. “Hello?”
“Lei-Lei.” He said her name as if relishing the taste on his tongue. It had been one of the things that drew her to him in the first place, because one thing twenty-one-year-old Lei Zhang had wanted more than anything in the world was to be relished.
She couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe.
Travis.
The bogeyman shouldn’t be able to take form enough to place a call, and yet here they were. A hand closed over her shoulder, an arm pressed against her back, and suddenly Dante’s crisp scent wrapped around her. She closed her eyes and inhaled. Knowing he was right there didn’t calm her racing heart, but it gave her the strength to form words. She took the phone from her ear and put it on speaker. “Travis.”
Instantly, Britton and Dante were both on high alert. Britton took out his phone and started texting furiously, and Dante’s grip on her tightened ever so slightly. He was there. She was safe. Travis wasn’t going to burst through the wall and drag her off to whatever hell he’d been living in for the last twelve years. I’m safe.
“It’s been fun watching you run around chasing me, but that’s over now. I’m done playing.” He still sounded downright happy, even though a dangerous edge crept into his tone.
There wasn’t enough air in the room. Hell, there wasn’t enough air in the entire city to compensate for the poison dripping from his voice into her ears. She closed her eyes. No. This isn’t who I am anymore. I am not his fucking victim. I
am a goddamn survivor. She gritted her teeth. “If you wanted me, you should have just come for me and been done with it.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” He chuckled. “I enjoyed my walk down memory lane. Omega Delta Lambda will always hold a special place in my heart.”
Her stomach lurched, threatening to rebel, and she was suddenly glad she hadn’t managed to eat much. “I’m going to stop you.”
“I invite you to try.” Another chuckle. “But I have to say, your reputation with that mutt of yours made me think you’d be more of a challenge now than you were back then. That’s not really working out that well, is it?” Wind whispered in the background, crackling across the line.
Where are you, you son of a bitch?
She found herself leaning forward, trying to concentrate on anything that would give away his position. Something came over the line, distant and indistinct. As the silence stretched on in their standoff, it slowly formed into a noise she recognized.
Dogs barking.
Saul barking.
Lei gripped the phone so tightly, it was a wonder it didn’t come apart in her hands. Her entire world narrowed down to the warm plastic and glass pressed against her hand and the man breathing lightly through the speaker. She couldn’t beg. It wouldn’t do anything, and Travis would only get off on it. Threatening him wouldn’t work, either. Despite all evidence to the contrary, he wasn’t actually pissed yet. You will be before I’m through with you.
No, there was only one way to play this to potentially get through to him, and she didn’t know if she could stomach it.
She didn’t have a choice.
“Travis.” His name tasted like sludge on her tongue. “You know I’ve always been the goal. I’d say I’m flattered, but we both know that would be a lie.” She met Dante’s eyes and made a writing motion. He grabbed a hotel stationery pad and a pen, and she scrawled out He’s at the house.
Dante’s eyes went wide, and then he was up and scrambling for his phone, presumably to call Tucker.
They’ll be ready for Travis. We’ll get him this time.
She just had to stall him a little longer.
“My Lei-Lei, always speaking the truth.”
She was losing him. She swallowed hard. “Come get me, Travis. I’ll walk out of here right now. No police. No Feds. Just me. Isn’t that what you want?”
“Of course. That’s what I always wanted.” He hummed faintly. “You know, I was thinking about marrying you. It would have made my mother happy.”
She blinked. Of all the things . . . He’s insane. More insane than I could have anticipated. “You murdered twenty-one women, Travis. Twenty-one. You can’t possibly think I’d marry you after that.”
“I left little Emma alive for you. That was my gift to you. You can’t honestly expect to be in a relationship without some compromises.”
The roaring in her ears drowned out Dante and Britton’s low conversation. It drowned out everything. The world shifted and realigned itself, and up was down and down was up. “Emma escaped you.”
“Because I let her.” He took on a gentle chiding tone. “I know how to count. Even with Trevor playing second fiddle to me, do you really think I would have forgotten that Emma was in that room? She was your best friend.”
Trevor.
His twin’s name is Trevor. The note wasn’t a mistake after all.
Lei shook her head. Focus. He’s threatening Emma. But . . .
She had a specific narrative of what had happened that night, and Travis seemed determined to turn it on its head. “You tried to kill me!”
“Don’t be dramatic. I needed you out of commission and above suspicion. None of your injuries were life-threatening. It’s not my fault you decided to jump off the damn roof.” He sounded so normal, as if they were an old married couple and she’d done something unforgivably silly. Maybe in his mind, it all equaled out. Sure, he’d murdered an entire houseful of women, but he’d left her best friend alive, so the scales must be balanced.
Focus, Lei. You can freak out about Travis being in love with you later.
“Come get me, Travis,” she repeated, trying to get them back on track. “That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? Or did you put your twin—Trevor—in jail just for shits and giggles? I’m sure he’d love to know that.”
“All in good time.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?” There was a thud in the background, as if he’d dropped something heavy. “I gave you Emma’s life last time, and you didn’t appreciate it. If you want to save her this time, you have to work for it. Good luck, Lei-Lei.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Emma took a quick shower in an effort to get her head on straight. Her hands ached from all the typing, and she had a piercing headache starting behind her left eye from all the screen time. Or maybe it was stress. At the end of the day, it didn’t matter, because she’d needed to get a little alone time away from the pacing FBI agent in her office.
He meant well, probably, but he had too much energy for her space. It exhausted her and wore on her last nerve, so after she’d gotten her searches rolling, she’d retreated to the relative solitude of her bathroom. She washed her hair twice just to give herself something to do, but guilt wouldn’t let her linger under the scalding spray.
Lei needed her.
And if she was right . . . Emma shuddered. As much as confirming Lei’s suspicions would create a nice, pat little answer to who was committing these atrocities, it also meant that Travis was free.
It was something she’d tried again and again not to think too hard about, because she would . . . what? Run? The thought of leaving the house filled her with such dread, her entire body trembled. Locking herself in a safe room was no better. He’d proved he could get to her there, even if she and Lei had changed the code. If he’d found it once, he was capable of finding it again.
She couldn’t lock herself up and wait for all this to blow over. Lei needed her. It was still possible that Travis had some kind of psychotic break in prison, and that was what her friend was picking up on. It was actually more likely than Travis going on a killing spree with his long-lost identical twin and then letting said twin take the fall for him.
But Lei had been right about him being adopted, which was something that had never come up before. There’d been no reason to look into it—the cops had Travis in custody, and his parents weren’t clamoring to blame him being a crazy killer on genetics that weren’t theirs. They claimed him, even after it became glaringly obvious that he was guilty.
Emma shut off the water and grabbed a towel. She instinctively reached for her phone and frowned when it wasn’t on the counter. Must have left it downstairs in my rush to get the hell out of that room. It didn’t matter. She’d be down there in a minute or two, and if something important happened, Tucker knew where to find her.
She still picked up her pace. Emma pulled on a pair of yoga pants, a sports bra, and a long-sleeve shirt. After considering for half a second, she yanked a sweater over her head, too. A pair of thick wool socks and she was as ready as she was going to be.
She opened the door to her bedroom and paused. The house felt . . . eerily empty. Not a single sound came from downstairs. Not dog nails clicking on the hardwood, not Tucker’s pacing, not even the steady hum of her electronics.
Oh, God.
She reacted on instinct, stepping back into her room and slamming the door shut. Her hands shook as she engaged the lock, but it wasn’t enough. If someone else was in the house, the flimsy lock on her bedroom door wouldn’t slow them down in the least.
If someone wasn’t in the house, then she could have a good laugh about it later.
She turned and slammed into something hard. Someone hard. Emma bounced back a step and hit the door. It took her eyes precious seconds to adjust to the low light and recognize the man standing in her room. Her brain took even longer. “No.”
“Hey, Emma,” Travis Berkley said. “Long time, no see.”
Dante flew through the dark pass, pushing the car faster than was wise. Tucker wasn’t answering his phone. Neither was Emma, or Sheriff Bamford, who had been on duty, last they’d heard. Lei sat still and silent in the passenger seat, locked in her own personal hell. He didn’t know what to say to reach her, didn’t know if he should even try.
But he couldn’t not try.
“Britton will be behind us shortly. He’ll bring the team members he’s got here, and they’ll raise both the Seattle PD and the little local towns surrounding Stillwater. He won’t get through the net.”
“He’s already through it.” Lei didn’t look away from the road blurring under the car’s tires. “He wouldn’t have called me if he thought for a second that we could get there in time. Travis doesn’t play fair. He never has. Emma is already gone, and probably whoever else was in or near that house, too.”
Emma wasn’t dead. Dante wouldn’t say it and give her false hope, but Berkley wouldn’t have put this much time and effort into getting Lei exactly where he wanted her just to disappear again. If she thought for a second that Emma was still alive and in danger, she wouldn’t stop long enough to come up with a plan—she’d just throw herself into danger, and to hell with the rest. “Promise me that you won’t react until we have all the information.”
“Like hell I won’t.” She wrapped her arms around her small frame. “I can’t promise that any more than you can promise you’ll be logical where Clarke is concerned.”
Travis hadn’t said anything about Clarke. It might be all part of his sick game, but Dante couldn’t help thinking that maybe they were wrong all along—that Clarke’s disappearance was completely unconnected to this case. The thought left him empty and sick. “We’ll wait for backup.”
“Sure.” She didn’t bother to sink any meaning behind the lie.
He didn’t call her on it. They wouldn’t know what they were walking into until they got there, and any speculation was pointless. He drove as fast as humanly possible, the tension in the car rising with each mile they moved closer to Lei’s house.