Merciless

by Mary Burton

  “Won’t be one hundred until I get the DNA tests back, but I’d say it’s him.”

  Garrison opened the front door for her. “Has the foot been recovered?”

  “No.”

  “And the other guy?”

  “No identification yet. Mr. Donovan did not see a dentist, so we have no records to compare. I’m going to do DNA on the marrow.”

  Shit. “Thanks, Doc.”

  “If the second man was the one that tortured and killed Dixon, it would stand to reason the foot would still be on site.”

  “Maybe he took it somewhere and then returned.”

  “And leave Dixon alive and risk discovery?”

  Malcolm nodded. “It’s all feeling like a stage production.”

  “Yeah.”

  They turned and moved back toward their car. “Let’s talk to Dixon’s nurse again. Maybe she saw Donovan or someone else.”

  They arrived at the medical offices. Dixon’s nurse was on her phone. “I’m not sure when we will be able to reschedule, Mr. Marcel. I will call you as soon as I speak to the doctor.” She listened. “No, no. He’s fine. He just had to go out of town on a family emergency.”

  She hung up and looked at the detectives. “Detective Kier, back again?”

  “I show up like a bad penny.”

  She rose. Her body was stiff and nervous. “He tells me to tell the clients he’s out of town when he doesn’t show. Did you find him?”

  “We did,” Malcolm said.

  “Where is he?” she said. No missing the annoyance in her voice.

  “He’s dead.”

  She blinked several times as if her brain could not compute what she’d heard. “Dead? How?”

  “We’re still piecing it together. Do you have that list of the people he saw in the last few weeks?”

  “Yes.” She turned to the computer on her desk and hit print. The printer under her desk spit out pages.

  Malcolm studied the print out. No name jumped out at him. “Did he see anyone else?”

  “It’s funny you should mention that. When you came by yesterday it just didn’t register. But he had a patient stop by. He didn’t have an appointment, but Dixon said he didn’t need one.”

  “Who was it?”

  “He never gave his name.”

  “What did he look like?”

  “Tall. Dark hair. I didn’t get a good look at his face. He breezed past me while I was on the telephone.”

  “Why was he here?”

  “Dr. Dixon didn’t say, but later when I was in his office I saw his notes on the patient. I shouldn’t have looked, but I was curious.”

  “Good for you.”

  She folded her arms. “He was here to have burns removed.”

  “Burns. What kind?”

  “I don’t know. Dr. Dixon just noted he had a large patch of scarring.”

  Malcolm pulled several DMV photos from his pocket. “Is it this guy?” He showed her the picture of Sierra Day’s husband.

  “No.”

  He then showed her pictures of Terry Burgess and Marty Gold.

  “No.”

  He flipped over a picture of Connor Donovan.

  “No.”

  The last picture in his stack had been an afterthought for Garrison. It was a picture of Micah Cross.

  Her eyes widened. “That might be him.”

  Malcolm’s heart kicked up a notch. “Are you sure?”

  “Pretty sure. I just saw the side of his face.”

  Eyewitness testimony could be the worst. Human memory could be faulty at best. “Thanks.”

  When they got outside, Garrison’s face was a tight drawn mask. “I want to talk to Cross.”

  “You and me both.”

  He shook his head. “Louise Cross announced her ‘arrival’ with a fire. And now there’s another fire.”

  “So why is Micah Cross trying to hide burns? I don’t remember him ever being in a fire.”

  “His twin brother Josiah died in a fire.”

  Garrison nodded. “According to eye witnesses Micah Cross was in the District the night of that fire.”

  He grunted. “Eyewitnesses. His father could have paid for eyewitnesses.”

  “Do you think Micah could have been with Josiah the night of the sorority house fire?”

  “I don’t know. But the burns make me wonder.”

  As Malcolm pulled into traffic, his phone buzzed. “Kier.” He listened as the dispatcher relayed the message. “Shit. There’s been a 911 call at Wellington and James.”

  “What happened?”

  “Charlotte Wellington has reported Angie missing.”

  “No, it is not normal for her just to take off!” Charlotte’s loud angry voice drifted from the reception area as Malcolm and Garrison arrived.

  Malcolm had been holding on tight to his temper and fears as they’d raced across town, but he nearly lost control when he heard the panic in the attorney’s voice. He moved past the uniformed officers and went directly to Charlotte.

  She stood in front of the receptionist desk, her hands clenched and her face pale and drawn. She looked as if she’d aged ten years. “She would not leave her briefcase or just take off.”

  “Ms. Wellington,” Malcolm said.

  She pushed past the officer. “Thank God. I told them to call you.”

  “What happened?”

  “Angie is missing. And I found this on the floor.” She held up the little red book. “I told them that this guy must have taken her.”

  Malcolm shoved aside his own fears and glanced at the book. He flipped through the pages. “Martin Rayburn.”

  Garrison tensed. “Rayburn?As in Blue, Eva’s father?”

  Charlotte nodded. “The journal is written by a guy named Blue who was dying of cancer. I guess this other guy is his son. There’s a boy named Martin mentioned in the journal.”

  “Eva has a half brother?” Garrison said.

  “What would he want with Angie?” Malcolm said. “Technically, they aren’t related at all.”

  Charlotte pointed to the book. “If you read the journal, you’ll understand why Blue was positioned at the museum.”

  “Positioned?”

  “Darius ran guns through the museum. He used the exhibit crates to stash weapons that he sold all over the world. It was Blue’s job to pack the guns and see that they got shipped. He was also there to make sure Frank didn’t go to the feds. Blue makes it clear that he hated Frank because Frank made Blue feel like a cheap thug.”

  “That’s why Blue stole Frank’s wife?”

  “It is. Blue could bully Frank, but he wanted to be accepted on Frank’s level. Marian Carlson’s attention gave him validation.”

  Malcolm sucked in a breath. “So is he here to finish off the Carlson family?”

  The uniformed officer cleared his throat. “We ran Martin Rayburn’s name. He’s got a warrant out for his arrest in Colorado.”

  “For what?” Malcolm said.

  “Assault.”

  Chapter 28

  Thursday, October 13, 2 P.M.

  The stench pulled Angie out of a deep sleep. When she reached consciousness she recoiled, wishing she’d not awoken. Her limbs were stiff, and her head pounded with a force that took her breath away. She raised trembling fingers to her head and tried to open her eyes. The faint light in the room made the pounding worse, forcing her to lower her lids.

  Where was she?

  Headache or no, she had to find out where she was and get out of here. Pressing her hand to her head, she rolled on her side. Her fingers brushed concrete, and she realized she was on a cold floor. The slight movement made her sick to her stomach, and she curled her bare feet up.

  As the putrid smells swirled around her, fear bit at her and stirred terrifying scenarios in her head. God, what was he going to do to her? She thought about Lulu and Sierra. Had they found themselves in this same place, scared and alone?

  She pushed up on her arm, bracing as her head spun, and her
stomach churned. She opened her eyes again and watched as the room spun. It would be easy to just drop back and let the maelstrom wash over her. But there was no telling how long it would take for her mind to clear and she’d bet anything she didn’t have much time.

  Pressing her fingers into her stomach, she pushed up onto her knees. The room was very basic, a utilitarian workroom that sported a large tub and a workbench with all kinds of tools. There was a plastic case that appeared to be filled with bugs.

  The sight of the creeping insects crawling over a mound of flesh set her off. She turned to the side and vomited what little she had in her stomach. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. God, where was she?

  Tears stung her eyes as she stared at cinder-block walls. This windowless room could be anywhere, and no one was likely to find her.

  “Don’t do this to yourself, Angie. You’re a survivor.”

  “We are a great deal alike, you and me.” The man’s voice radiated from a shadowed corner. He’d been watching her struggle and retch.

  “How are we alike?” Disgust dripped from the words.

  “Survivors. Near-death experiences. You and your cancer. Me and …” He abandoned the edge of the shadow and moved toward her.

  Micah appeared.

  “You?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t understand. Why me?”

  He turned and knelt in front of her. “Because your sister took my family from me, and now I’m going to take her family from her.”

  “Eva didn’t take your family.”

  “Mother said she was the dark temptress and she needed to be stopped. Eva is like her father. Soulless. A taker.” He traced her hairline.

  She jerked away. “None of this makes sense.”

  He rose, awry smile tipping his lips. “It will very soon.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’ve a few toys to fetch before we begin to play.”

  Setting up a direct feed between the police and the state prison didn’t happen often. But Malcolm had called in favors, bullied, and begged to get Louise Cross to a computer screen so that they could talk. He’d have driven down to the prison but feared Angie didn’t have the four hours it would take for the round trip.

  Louise had agreed to talk, but her condition had been non-negotiable. Only Eva could ask the questions.

  Garrison had sworn when Malcolm had told him. But after the wave of temper had passed he’d seen what needed to be done. When he told Eva the situation she’d only been annoyed that he’d waited so long to bring her into the mix.

  Now Eva sat in front of the computer screen in the police department’s conference room. It was a plain, simple room awash in tired beiges. A drop ceiling and conference table and chairs dated back to the eighties.

  She smoothed shaking hands over her thighs. Garrison stood to her right, his arms folded but his body braced for a fight. “When will she appear?”

  “It should be any minute,” Malcolm said. “No matter what she says to rattle you, don’t rise to the bait. We need answers about Micah and where he might have taken Angie. He wasn’t at his home, and the family has dozens of properties. We need it narrowed quickly.”

  She nodded, then glanced up at Garrison. She smiled. “It will be fine. I’ll play any part to satisfy that bitch and save my sister.”

  Garrison smiled. “That’s my gal.”

  The monitor clicked on, and the prison warden appeared on screen. A tall, thin man with a pointed chin, he had owlish eyes magnified by the lenses of his thick glasses. “Detective Kier, are you ready?”

  Malcolm leaned over Eva’s shoulder. “Ready.”

  They watched as the warden moved from the screen and the door behind him opened. Louise Cross, dressed in an orange jumpsuit and shackles, made her way to the screen. She sat and stared directly into the camera. Her eyes, bright with excitement and insanity, glistened.

  Malcolm stepped back, and Eva leaned forward.

  Louise couldn’t see Eva’s hands or the way she’d twisted them so tightly together that her knuckles were white with stress.

  “Hello, Louise,” Eva said. Her voice didn’t project the usual strength, but it was steady.

  Louise’s gaze narrowed and she smiled. “Eva. It’s good to see you. You look well.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’ve put on weight. It suits you.” She looked almost gleeful. “Do you think of me often?”

  “Yes.”

  “I hope the burn is healing.”

  “I’ll always have a scar.”

  Louise seemed pleased as she said, “I am sorry for that. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  Eva swallowed. “I know.”

  “Do you?” Louise leaned into the camera. “I didn’t think you did. You haven’t responded to my letters.”

  Eva hesitated as if searching for the right words. What did you say to the woman who’d tortured and nearly killed you? “Louise, you know I’m here to talk about Micah.”

  Louise’s brows knitted. “Why do you want to talk about Micah?”

  “We think he has Angie.”

  Louise sat back in her chair, her jaw tightening. “Why would he take her?”

  “He’s suspected of killing a couple of women.”

  Louise muttered an oath. “I told him not to take any unnecessary chances. Fool.”

  Eva tensed, knowing she’d hit a hot button. “He’s taken a lot of chances. The police are hunting him.”

  She nodded her head. “He’s my last child. I wanted him to stay safe. That’s why I wanted him to keep his secrets.”

  Malcolm’s jaw tightened. Secrets? What the hell was Louise talking about?As much as he wanted to shout the question into the screen, he held steady.

  Eva held her composure. “We need to find him, Louise. If Kier and Garrison can get him, they are going to do their best to keep him alive. Other law enforcement officers might not really understand him. They could hurt him.”

  “He’s my only child.”

  “And I don’t want you to lose him.”

  Tears glistened in the old woman’s eyes, and Malcolm didn’t know if they were real or not. He never imagined that Louise loved anyone more than herself and her own dark needs.

  “Help Kier and Garrison find him, Louise. We need to save him. Where would he go that is safe? Where would he hide?”

  For several seconds she didn’t say anything. Her body swayed as she drummed her fingers on her thigh and chewed her lip. Seconds ticked. It seemed she had dipped into another world.

  “Louise. Tell me. Where is Micah?” Eva said.

  Louise refocused her gaze. “Kier is there, and so is Garrison?”

  “Yes.”

  “You won’t hurt him,” she said to the detectives.

  “No,” Malcolm answered with a clear voice, knowing he’d do what needed to be done to save Angie.

  “There’s a house in Alexandria. It’s on the river. His father bought it years ago.”

  “His home is on the river. Are you talking about the same one?” Eva said.

  She shook her head. “Yes.”

  “We sent a patrol car to that house,” Malcolm said. “No one has seen him.”

  A prideful smile tipped the corner of her lips. “His father had a half dozen ways of getting into that house so that no one would see him. There are rooms off the basement that his father built. Both my boys loved those rooms.”

  Malcolm straightened, ready to bring down the force of the city on that house.

  Eva touched the screen as if for a moment she saw the woman she’d once thought of as a second mother. “Thank you.”

  An odd flicker of tenderness flashed in Louise’s gaze. “There is something I need to tell you about Micah. It’s a secret only I know.”

  * * *

  Angie wasn’t sure how much time passed when she heard the sound of a door scraping open. After Micah had left she’d wanted to search the room and find her escape, but she could barely
stand, let alone walk. She’d been sick several more times before she’d rolled on her side and fallen into a fitful sleep.

  Now, thankfully, her stomach was calm and her mind clear. Her body still felt shaky, but she could sit up without the world spinning. She rose slowly, steadying herself with one hand on the cinder-block wall.

  The room wasn’t as large as she’d first imagined. The stainless-steel table in the middle of the room had a drain underneath and a light overhead. It also came equipped with leather straps at the head and feet.

  Water sloshed gently in the tub. The oddly soothing sound drew her closer. She staggered toward it and stared into murky, oily depths that smelled foul. She covered her nose and stared deeper. In the swirling water, she saw something floating in the current. The current caught the object and pulled it briefly to the surface. It was a foot.

  Angie staggered back. The bones in water. The beetles in the cage. The police had found three bodies that had been stripped of flesh. “My God, Dad, how could you be a part of something like this?”

  The door opened to the room, and she whirled around. Micah Cross had returned. With her mind clear, this time she could see that his entire demeanor had shifted. Meekness had been replaced by an intense energy that reminded her of a lion on the hunt.

  She did remember that he’d promised to return with toys. Bracing, she took a step back.

  His gaze locked on hers. He smiled. “You can see the difference, can’t you?”

  “You’ve changed.”

  “Not changed. Returned to my true self.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Manicured fingers reached for the buttons on his shirt. He slowly unfastened each button.

  “What are you doing?”

  He laughed. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’ve no interest in you sexually.”

  “You said something earlier about stealing Eva’s family.”

  “There is that. But I feel the need to tell you the whole truth. I don’t get the chance to tell the truth to anyone, and I need to say the words out loud.”

  “What words?”

  He shrugged off his shirt and revealed a chest and back covered with pink, puckered flesh. The deformity covered nearly his entire upper body.

  “I laid in bed for months. The pain was so terrible that I thought I’d go insane.”