by Mel Comley
“You can choose, Mr. Kaur. I’m not a picky eater.”
“Please, call me Samael; all my friends do.” He leaned forward and gave the driver an address. “Since you’re not picky, I have a loft apartment in the city. We’ll go there and order in. That way, we can talk without prying eyes or inquisitive ears.”
Candy studied his face in the limo’s interior light. “You look Spanish, not British like Rico. Did you have different parents?”
“You are a delightful child, Candy, and perhaps too smart for your own good.”
“I’m a work in progress, Samael. The more I learn, the more beneficial I can be to an employer.” The limo pulled up in front of a luxurious apartment building, and Candy raised an eyebrow. “When you said loft, this wasn’t what I envisioned.”
Samael waited for the driver to open his door then held his hand out to her. “I hope you like what you see.”
Candy definitely liked what she saw. Samael opened the door and led her into the living room. Windows surrounded it, with a balcony overlooking the city. Compared to Samael, Val was a pauper.
“Make yourself comfortable. I’ve had a long flight and want a quick shower.” He handed her a fifty-dollar bill. “Tip the waiter when he brings up the food.”
She toyed with the idea of keeping the money but figured the waiter would complain and word would eventually get to Samael.
A knock sounded, and she crossed to the door and opened it. “Where would you like it ma’am?”
“Place it in front of the balcony door. We can move it out when we’re ready.”
“Will there be anything else, ma’am?”
Candy placed the fifty-dollar bill in his hand and closed his fingers around it. “We’ll let you know.”
Samael walked out of the bedroom, towel drying his hair. “I see you’ve taken charge. I like that in a woman.”
His accent had changed, and Candy studied the face, which was vastly different from the one that had greeted her at Val’s. His hair had changed, too; it was no longer black and thick, but blonde and short. “I see you’re a magician. You’re going to have to show me that trick. It could be useful.”
He chuckled, placed an arm around her waist, and led her to the balcony. “If you could have anything your heart desired, Candy, what would you want?”
“You.”
He gazed down into her eyes, his own darkening. “Why?”
“For your money, of course, and the excitement of living as you do. Why else?”
“How old are you?”
“I’ll be sixteen in two weeks.” She smiled up at him. “But my driver’s license says I’m eighteen. Legal dessert, if you’re interested.”
He moved the small table out on the balcony and pulled out a chair for her. “I’m not. At least not in what you’re suggesting.”
“Pity.” Candy sat then folded her napkin in her lap. “It could have been fun.”
Samael served their dinner and sat across from her. “So what are you doing with my brother?”
“Sex. I wanted a baby, and he was willing.” Candy sliced into the steak. “He’s a good lover.”
“So I’ve heard.” Samael poured two glasses of wine and passed one to her. “You remind me of someone.” He studied her face. “Me.”
Candy sipped the wine then dabbed her lips. “Odd, Val said the exact same thing the first night I met her. I’m not anything like her at all.”
“So what excites you, Candy? Makes your blood heat, your loins burn, and your heart pump until it feels like it’s going to jump out of your chest?”
“Torturing those who have hurt me or disappointed me. Seeing the fear in their eyes, hearing them beg with their lips.”
“So you like punishment?”
“When it serves a purpose. I wouldn’t punish someone who didn’t deserve it.” Candy took a bite of potato and reached for the salt. “Would you?”
Samael shook his head. “No, but granting someone death doesn’t punish them. It’s better to find the thing they love the most, and take that away from them. That way, they never forget their sins.”
Candy shook her head. “That might work for some, but people are fickle. You take their pet, they’ll find another one. The same goes for husbands, wives, kids. Emotional pain diminishes over time.” She sipped the wine, burped and giggled. “And most of them will even forgive you on their deathbed if you give them the chance.”
“So how would you know which ones to kill and which ones to punish?” Samael asked.
“It depends on why you’re punishing them. If it’s a crime against someone else, then punish them if you like, but if it’s a crime against you, kill them.”
“And what if killing them hurts you also?”
She tilted her head and studied him. “Killing is a crime, so if it hurts you, in essence, you’re punishing yourself for allowing them to do whatever they did. That way, you never allow it to happen again.”
“If I asked you to kill Val, would you?”
“Of course.” Candy chuckled. “She told me to do whatever you asked me to.”
“And what did Rico tell you about me?”
“He told me you were going to rape me, beat me, and when I was broken physically, mentally, and emotionally, you would call him to come and get me.”
“And yet you’re here?”
Candy shrugged. “Being raped wouldn’t bother me, and I’ve been beaten. None of that would break me mentally or emotionally. I’m sure you could break me physically, but where’s the pleasure in that?”
Samael rose and held out his hand. “I’ve changed my mind about dessert.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Rico turned off the bath water, crossed to the bed, and picked Candy up. “It’s hot, but it will ease the soreness.”
She groaned as he lowered her into the tub. He picked up the washcloth and began to gently wash her back. “I’d like to be alone, Rico.”
He rose, dropped the cloth in the water, and left the room. He stayed nearby, no doubt, listening for any sounds that might mean she needed him. Needs were a weakness, an itch that could be scratched against any pole.
Candy lay back in the water, making waves with her arms that gently lapped at her skin. She needed time to pull herself together before Rico or Val asked her questions. She groaned again, but this time, in pleasure. Samael had been an animal, and bite marks were already starting to bruise on her torso and thighs. The more she enjoyed it, the more vicious he became. She grinned—and the more vicious he became, the more she had enjoyed it. And she had pleased him, too. Now if she became pregnant, it would be a toss-up as to whether the child belonged to Rico or Samael.
Candy fingered her swollen lips. He’d been careful not to leave marks on her face or neck—she had a job to do tomorrow—but that had not stopped him from brutally devouring her lips and mouth. “Mmm…”
She sank deeper into the water. Samael had promised to show her his collection tomorrow, the million faces of Samael Kaur. And he’d promised to help her develop her own. He would train her, and the two of them would rule the world.
Val entered the bathroom and knelt beside her. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay, Val. I did everything he asked me to.”
She placed a hand on Candy’s hair and stroked it gently. “I’m sorry, darling, but we did warn you what he was like. He’ll leave you alone now and pursue his other interests. Rico will take care of you, just as he’s taken care of me all these years.” She rose to her feet. “I’ve left some lotion on the nightstand that will help heal the bites, and muscle relaxers to help ease the pain and allow you to sleep. We have a big day tomorrow.”
Candy closed her eyes. If she knew, would she push me under the water while I’m still weak and unable to fight her? She listened closely as Val stopped to whisper something to Rico, then the door closed. Samael would never leave her alone. She didn’t want him to. Once he concluded his business in the States, he was taking her to the UK for
training, and as soon as she killed Val, Candy would take her place in New York. Rico could stay if he wanted. Samael had made it clear that choice was to be left to Rico.
Candy sighed and sat up. “Rico?”
He appeared instantly, holding a large towel. “Yes, Miss Candy.”
“Help me out, please.”
He wrapped the towel around her, carried her to the bed, and once she was dry, applied the lotion Val had left. “I’ll get you a glass of warm milk. It will help the muscle relaxers speed up the process.”
Candy watched him go, her mind working through the only problem to her plans. Samael had a weakness: he loved his brother. Eventually, that love would cause problems for them, or between them. Samael had accepted her true character, but Rico would be appalled and could harm her. She would have to find a way for him to die that was fitting to Samael’s terms of punishment and death.
Rico returned with the glass of milk then placed a hand behind her back to help her sit up. “Thank you, Rico.” She drank the milk and took the two pills he offered her. “I’d like to sleep now. We have a big day tomorrow.” She closed her eyes, and Rico pulled a blanket over her and tucked it in on the sides. “Wake me at seven, Rico.”
“Yes, Miss Candy.”
~
Chief Brown spread out the drawing on the kitchen table. “This is the entrance Matt—” He smiled at Alex. “Or Nobby goes through to get to the lab for his bloodwork. We’ll station men inside the door, as well as at strategic points around the parking lot. We’ll also have someone driving in front of him and behind him, just in case they try to take him on the road before he reaches the hospital.”
“I’ll walk in beside him as if I’m another patient,” Tamara said. “Not with him, but as an innocent bystander needing to go to the hospital myself.”
Reefer chuckled. “Innocent?”
Alex studied the parking lot and entrance. “So where will I be?”
“Here at the house, along with Crimshaw and Blake.” Chief Brown pursed his lips and challenged her with his eyes. “There’s always the chance he’s planning on going for Dixie and Cinders, or even you or Crimshaw. We’ll have a couple of officers stationed outside.”
“Fat lot of good that will do,” Crimshaw grumbled. “Had the whole damn forensic team here on Alex’s birthday, and he still walked right up to the house and placed a present on the swing.”
“Whole lot of trouble for nothing if you ask me.” Nobby pushed away from the table. “I can take care of myself.”
Blake smiled at him. “You’re not looking at it right, Matt. Consider yourself bait to catch this bastard.”
Nobby chuckled. “Hadn’t thought of it like that. Makes more sense.”
“The bloody hell it does. Bait is a tiny worm on a hook, used to catch a big fish.” Alex stomped to the coffee pot. “And in case neither of you thought of it, the worm always dies even if you catch the fish.”
“Calm down, Alex. It was a figure of speech.” Nobby held out his cup. “If I planned on dying, I wouldn’t be drinking that god-awful juice three times a day.”
“He isn’t going to just kill him, Alexandra.” Blake’s voice compelled her to turn and look at him. “Although Nobby’s death would hurt you, it wouldn’t hurt as much as knowing he’s being tortured and still alive, and you’re helpless to do anything to stop it.”
He was right, but it still burned in her craw that she wouldn’t be there to protect Nobby. Crimshaw had the same look of disappointment in his eyes. “All right, we’ll do it your way.” This time.
“Wish now you’d baked that chocolate cake, Alex.” Crimshaw winked at her. “Would have been the perfect reason to stay home tomorrow with a belly ache.”
~
“Reefer, did you say you had some information for us?” Chief Brown asked.
“There’s not a lot, and no pictures I can find anywhere. Samael Kaur is thirty-nine years old, and according to his financial records, he has an estimated worth of about one billion dollars. He’s the owner of a nationwide biological pharmaceutical company called BrandTech.”
“Did you say ‘nationwide’?” Crimshaw asked.
Reefer continued. “And he wasn’t born rich. He started out as an employee when he was twenty-nine; six months later, he owned the company.”
Alex sipped her coffee and leaned against the counter. “That explains our first three victims and why their organs were removed. Pharmaceutical testing, the cheap way with no bad press or lawsuits. Someone has to know where he is. I mean, he must make decisions for the company?”
“Not according to what I’ve found so far. He has a team of managers to run each plant, and a CEO that visits occasionally. Most of them call him ‘the mystery man’. We call him the Escape Artist. And it gets worse.” Reefer changed sites on the computer and brought up several pictures. “His company in Spain has been making silicone masks so lifelike, it’s impossible to tell the person is wearing a mask.” He turned the screen around so the team could see the video.
Alex moved to the table. “Wasn’t it Edgar Allen Poe who said ‘the perfect place to hide is in plain sight’?”
“What are you thinking, Alexandra?” Blake asked.
“He’s too controlling to allow someone else to run his companies. He doesn’t have CEOs—he is the CEO.”
Crimshaw punched the air. “She’s right. The son of a bitch is hiding in plain sight. All we have to do is find out where he’s going to be next.”
“Or who he’ll be,” Alex said. “With his resources and time on his hands, he could be anyone in this room, and we wouldn’t know it until it was too late.”
“Putting all that aside for the moment, something must have set him off to start killing people. Is there anything else on his background, Reefer?” Blake asked.
“Nothing before he became employed with BrandTech. Not only does he disappear into thin air, he appeared out of thin air.”
“Which means Kaur is probably not his real name.” Blake ran a hand through his hair. “Even if we catch him, Alexandra, can we prove he killed those women? Or did anything wrong here in the States?”
Alex met his gaze, the realization of what he was saying sinking in slowly. “I’ll identify him.”
“He’ll have some of the best lawyers money can buy. They’re going to rip you apart. Unless you can swear one hundred percent Samael Kaur is the man that killed your sister, he’ll walk, and that case will have to be tried in the UK, which means he’ll go to prison, with a chance of parole, or if he makes bail, he’ll simply disappear again.”
“Shit, Blake, ain’t you got nothing positive to say?” Nobby walked over to Alex and put his arm around her.
“I’m trying to be realistic and make sure we all know the deficits in our case. How many others are there out there like Barton, altered to take his place? We have to know it’s him, even if we catch him in the act.”
“Reefer, did those pictures of Rico Kaur get distributed?” Alex asked.
“Derek made sure every one of his officers has it taped in their cruiser. They’re all on the lookout.”
“And I distributed it to the rest of our boroughs. If he’s anywhere in the city, we’ll find him. I’ll give it twenty-four hours, and if he isn’t found, or doesn’t take part in what we think is going down tomorrow, we’ll put his picture on the airwaves and social media. We’ll find him,” Chief Brown said.
“Then we’ll know when we catch him. We have his brother’s DNA.” Alex emptied her cup and stretched.
“That’s more complicated than it sounds, Alex.” Reefer sighed. “Siblings can share some DNA markers or not share any DNA markers. The only true way to narrow it down is to have the DNA from both parents to run against it. When you have that, it’s possible to run a test that is more conclusive. Otherwise, you’re only guessing on siblings.”
“I’ll know him,” Alex stated emphatically. “It doesn’t matter what he looks like or what he acts like; I’ll know him.”
&n
bsp; “Don’t slap me, but you missed that cue on the guy in the park, Alex.” Crimshaw ducked an imaginary fist swing.
“That’s because it wasn’t him. He just wanted me to think it was.” She walked toward the door. “I’m going to bed.”
The team stared after her for a moment, and Chief Brown sighed. “We all need to get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
“Come in.” Candy turned as Rico brought in her breakfast tray. “How is MacIntyre this morning?”
“Conscious. Samael will be pleased.”
Candy reached into the nightstand and pulled out an article. “Did you ever ask yourself what Samael is doing in New York City, Rico?”
“He has business in many places.”
She handed him the article. “Yes, I think she is his business here. He’s infatuated with her and plans on giving MacIntyre to her. We can’t let that happen, at least not if MacIntyre is alive.”
Rico frowned. “Why would the police want him?”
“Because they’re investigating the deaths of those three girls without organs, silly, and we planted evidence to make sure MacIntyre looked like the killer.”
“Samael did say it was okay if he was dead.”
“You need to make sure he is. Otherwise, if he talks about you or me, we’ll both be looking at time behind bars.”
“I’ll take care of it.” He placed two syringes on the nightstand. “Here’s the sedative for the old man, and I got the van you asked for. Dr. Jackson said one should be enough, but in case he wakes up early, you’ve got the second one as a backup.”
“You’re an angel, Rico. Did you get the wheelchair?”
“Yes, ma’am. Are you feeling okay, Miss Candy?”
“A little sore, but I’ll be fine. Val says Samael will leave me alone now.”
“If he doesn’t, I’ll have a word with him.”
Candy turned and touched his scarred face. “You’re so good to me. What would I do without you?”