“I love you, too. And I’m not going anywhere, Thomas.”
“No, you’re not,” he said, his voice grim.
Chapter Twenty Nine
Brian studied the way the shiny gold necklace glimmered in the light streaming in through the window. It would have been better if it had been inscribed with a message—more personal. He highly doubted anyone gave enough of a fuck about the woman to do something that thoughtful for her. In other words, she’d bought it for herself.
Maybe that deadbeat husband of hers had bought it for her, but probably not since he never had a job. He had listened to her whine about it until he finally gagged her ass because he was so sick of hearing her complain. Would the husband look for her? He doubted it. Then again, he probably would because she was his meal ticket.
Hell, he had done her a favor. By killing her he had given her eternal life. She had been a nobody before he came along. Now the woman was on the front page of the newspaper. Now she was famous. I’m going to make you a star, baby. That’s what he’d told her right before he killed her.
He was angry at himself for making this killing so personal. He’d been so pissed when that Goldie girl got away that he’d taken it out on Evie. Now he was going to have to hunt that bitch down. He’d gotten to know her a little that night at the club. She wasn’t the brightest bulb in the box, really, and he wasn’t sure she had truly understood how close she’d come to being killed. She had even tried to convince herself it was just a roleplay scene. She’d have to be dealt with but he didn’t want to draw unnecessary attention to himself. There was so much he still intended to do. He’d need to tread carefully with that one.
He closed his eyes, receiving the essence of the dead woman into his soul. He kept all the trinkets organized in compartments. OCD that permeated his psyche gave him power. He didn’t see it as a weakness. He viewed it as control. With each kill he became stronger and more confident. The city believed in him. He wasn’t an outsider anymore.
“I wonder what I’ll take from you, Goldie? Besides your life. I wonder what I’ll keep as a memento of the time we’ve shared? I hope you have jewelry. I believe precious metals hold the soul of the dearly departed better. I’m not sure why, but I’ve read that too.”
He fingered the tiny piece of jewelry, allowing it to soothe his soul. He’d enjoyed strangling Evie. There had been something so deliciously hands-on about it. It had been so satisfying, he’d come in his pants. He hadn’t been expecting that little gift but had welcomed it after his ordeal with that Goldie bitch. He ran his hand over his throat where he still bore the marks of her escape. It had only been a couple of days but the marks were already fading.
His thoughts returned to his most recent kill. So, so good. He knew he was onto something now. Every kill would have to be hands-on from now on. Personal. Who would have thought a whore could have taught him how to gain physical pleasure while he gratified his ego? That nasty bitch. How could a woman spread her legs for any Tom, Dick, or Harry for twenty bucks? He felt no guilt for ridding the streets of trash. He wasn’t in the habit of picking up whores but they were so easy. He’d been desperate to make someone pay after that bitch Goldie got away so it was a necessary evil to take the easy way out. Normally he liked more of a challenge like he got with the suburban wives. Tell a woman she was beautiful and she always believed it, even if she looked like an overweight, fatigued hedgehog.
He picked up one of the copies of the flash drive he’d made and put it in a small manila envelope. He trailed his gloved fingertips along the surface of the water he’d been drinking, then swiped them over the glue to seal the envelope shut. “No DNA for the police. They’ll have to work harder than that.”
He affixed the address label onto the envelope: Agent Turner, FBI. He’d used his computer to print out the address label. He knew better than to write it himself; didn’t want the FBI doing some handwriting analysis voodoo on it.
Let the games begin. It was time to draw criminal and crime solver together. They’d have to work together now to catch him and they’d hate themselves for it. Through sheer force of will, the Mummy Man had dominion over love, hate, good, and evil. He was all-powerful.
Chapter Thirty
“Dad, I’ve never tried to get in the way of your relationship with Turner. I don’t know how but you and that agent are bonded by blood. Well, maybe that is the answer: by blood.”
Charles Wentworth let the truth of his son’s words wash over him. He’d guarded the bond he held with the agent like a pit bull with a bone. Some fucked up part of him didn’t want anyone messing up a good thing. His son was right: the pairing up of criminal and lawman was inevitable. He trusted Agent Turner, even if he couldn’t quite say why.
Charles looked at the computer screen and shook his head at the irony of the situation. Criminal, crime fighter, and serial killer were bound together. Would the bond remain after Mummy Man was no longer part of the equation? Yes, he believed it would. Black Rose trusted Turner and was nearly certain that the agent trusted him.
“He’s escalating.” Charles looked at his son and then at the woman who was likely to soon be his daughter-in-law, or actually going to be. Today. “This is the first truly hands-on killing he has done.” He was surprised when she asked him a question.
“Is that common? The escalation of violence?”
“In serial killers, yes. In vigilantes, no. This brings me to another issue.” If she thought her lover’s eyes were intense, they were nothing compared to his father’s.
“The two of you are getting married. Today.”
“So we can’t testify against each other,” Teegan said softly, directing her words at Charles while keeping her eyes on Thomas.
“Yes, and it needs to be today. Anything that happens before the wedding could be used in court, if it came to that. I don’t think it will, but we must have safeguards in place.”
When the doorbell rang they both looked at each other, wide-eyed. He’d already arranged for someone to perform the wedding. Thomas knew that as soon as that door opened, his whole world would change, and Teegan’s would too. “You deserve a dream wedding, with flowers and a beautiful dress. If you want a real wedding later, just say the word. I’m sorry, but this has to be done.”
Thomas took her hand and looked at her as he stroked his thumbs along her velvety skin. “I want this for us, Teegan. Will you marry me?” He reached in his pocket, pulling out the small black box his father had discreetly handed him when they arrived. He had had a good idea what it contained, but he hadn’t been certain until his father revealed his plan.
He got down on one knee and opened the box to reveal a seven-carat diamond and wedding band. “This set belonged to my grandmother and I swore I’d never give it to anyone. But you’re not just anyone, Teegan. You’re The One.”
A lone tear trailed down her cheek and she held her hand out so he could place the diamond ring on her finger. The sight of the ring on her finger had her smiling tremulously. “What a difference a week makes, huh?”
Thomas nodded. “Yeah. You won’t regret it. I promise.”
Melanie rushed over and hugged them both. “You’ll fit right in, Teegan darling. Never doubt that. I’ve always wanted a daughter.”
“I know it isn’t romantic, Teegan, but I swear I’ll make it up to you.”
Thomas almost looked sad and she knew it was because he wanted so much more than a rushed wedding for her. She placed a palm on his cheek and grinned. “If it means you staying out of jail, it doesn’t get any more romantic than that.”
“You will indeed fit right in,” Charles agreed after hearing her acceptance of her unexpected circumstances. He nodded, motioning for the man at the door to enter.
Teegan eyed the stranger, who looked like anything but a minister or a priest. He wore khakis with a button-down blue shirt and cheap shoes. A few sentences later and she was Mrs. Thomas Wentworth. The marriage license wasn’t an issue, either. Paperwork was a mere formality f
or Charles Wentworth. If he wanted paperwork, he knew how to get it.
Most women would have loved to marry into a billion-dollar family, but Teegan wasn’t most women. She was in it to win it. With every fiber of her being she wanted to get the crazy man off the streets and if it meant marrying this man she barely knew, then so be it.
Their situation may have defied conventional logic, but the newlyweds had one thing going for them. They were in love.
Chapter Thirty One
“I’m sitting here watching the video you so kindly included on your flash drive. What a thoughtful gift, thanks,” Agent Turner drawled. He leaned back in his office chair as he pondered the images on his laptop screen.
“I didn’t send it, so evidently your boy Mummy Man likes you.” Charles chuckled at his own joke but did not miss the significance of Turner already being in possession of the flash drive.
“It’s time to stop playing games. I think if we combine what we know about this guy we can get him off the streets.”
“If that’s how you want to word it, combine, well, Agent, I think I can work with that. But I think we both know where I stand on these issues.” Charles’ patience was wearing thin and the fact that someone was stalking his new daughter-in-law set his teeth on edge. He took his family’s protection seriously. It was obvious his son was in love with Teegan, so she was included in his care. Charles would stop at nothing to protect his only son and his new wife.
“You should be glad I’m on a burner phone.”
“If you didn’t have the good sense to cover your tracks, we wouldn’t be having this conversation or any other, Agent.”
They both laughed, a laugh that no doubt reached the eyes of both men. Their rapport was genuine. They respected each other and, if circumstances had been different, might have been friends. Neither of the two men had many friends so their connection, such as it was, filled a void that neither particularly cared to explore.
Charles looked up to see his wife standing in the doorway, wincing as she held her cell phone from her ear. He looked at Melanie inquisitively, for it was impossible to discern the nature of the problem simply based on the tinny, screeching of the caller’s voice. She pressed the phone to her side and leaned in as she explained, “It’s Goldie. I’m trying to calm her down, but all I can get out of her is something about being drugged and abducted. Says she barely got away. Thinks it might have been the Mummy Man.”
Charles nodded as he thought back to his conversation with Agent Turner. If Goldie was right, this could be the break they needed to catch the guy.
He filled the agent in on the news. “We’ll go talk to her and get all the details. If you two go, it’s going to freak her out. Being questioned by the FBI is enough to put anybody on edge.”
Turner concurred, then left Charles with some instructions. Typically, he would have couched them as suggestions, but he didn’t have time to be polite. “I want a location. We have a possible suspect but I don’t trust our justice system to put him away. I want to know everything there is to know about him, including where he commits his crimes. Oh, and your son needs to marry his woman.”
“Already done.”
Turner laughed out loud. “Of course, it is. Damn, you don’t waste any time, do you?”
“No. This asshole has been going in and out of her house like he has keys to the place. I know my son and he’s going to put a bullet in the guy’s head for crossing that line. That’s way too close for comfort so all bets are off as far as my son is concerned.”
“Can’t say I blame him. If somebody was doing that to my woman, I’d do the same thing.”
“Speaking of her, how is she, and when are you going to tie the knot?”
“You don’t know that we haven’t already done it on the down low.”
“Well, that answers my question.”
“Don’t worry about my personal life, you have more than enough drama to handle in your own. Go talk to Goldie. If she’s able to recall the moments after she escaped, she should be able to lead you to the location. Let’s get this son of a bitch off the streets. I don’t care what lines you have to cross, just do it in a way I can cover your ass. No loose ends.”
“I’ll do you one better than that. I’m going to handle it so you don’t have to do a thing.”
Chapter Thirty Two
“I told you I’d make it up to you, baby.” Thomas looked up at his wife, enjoying her sensual, heavy-lidded expression as he pressed a lingering kiss to her swollen clit. His long lashes and the mischievous glint in his eyes made her smile. He worked his tongue through her folds, sucking and licking until she thought she would lose her mind. Pleasure didn’t come close to describing what her new husband was doing to her.
Her husband.
She wondered if she’d ever get used to those words. He was her husband. She was his wife.
When her core clenched and shuddered against his mouth, he slowed his movements, drawing out her pleasure.
“Do you know why I’m not fucking you?” he asked as he trailed his tongue along her inner thighs. He shifted his position until he was lying on his side next to her, drawing lazy circles around her belly button with his finger.
“Because it’s your way of saying it’s all about me,” she said in a sleepy, sated voice.
“Damn straight.”
“What did I ever do to deserve you?”
“You married me in my father’s office. Under duress,” he said, perhaps a bit sheepishly.
“The sweetest kind,” she said as she arched her back and stretched with her arms above her head. “Are you taking this commitment seriously or is this marriage more of a business arrangement?”
He shifted his weight until they were face to face. “I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life, Teegan. Circumstances forced us together, yes, but love is what will keep us together. Our connection is real. It wasn’t forced on us. It came fast, sure, but that doesn’t make it any less real. It’s kind of odd because my parents were forced into marriage, too, and I don’t know any two people who are more in love than those two. This is real, babe.
“Don’t let a madman convince you that we don’t belong together. You and I are supposed to be here, together, married, and looking forward to the future. We might have more than our fair share of bullshit to contend with at first, but we’ll get through it in one piece. I would have married you anyway, you know. The question is: would you have married me?”
“Yes.”
“Any doubts?” he asked, the look in his eyes letting her know that he’d understand if she had doubts. He still wouldn’t let her go, though.
“Nope. Not one.”
He moved onto his back and pulled her over with him so her head was on his chest. He closed his eyes and smiled as he savored a stolen moment of peace. A storm was brewing and he hoped they’d be ready for it. In the meantime, his face shone with the radiance of a man who felt truly happy for the first time.
“We need to go and see what we can find out about this guy while my parents talk to Goldie. I’ve got to have their backs.”
“Like I have yours,” she smiled, as she ran her hands through his hair. As crazy as things were right now in her life, they were more real than anything had ever been. She hadn’t been looking for love and yet it had come into her life and found her.
Theirs was the kind of love that took you by surprise and left you holding on for dear life. Theirs was the kind of love that a man would kill or die for without a second thought—and that terrified Teegan.
Chapter Thirty Three
“I swear to God, it was like something out of a horror movie,” Goldie said. “He drugged me. When I woke up, I couldn’t think straight at first. The musty smell was the worst, because it was obvious I was underground. I felt so claustrophobic, like I’d never really breathe again. People only build those things for canning or killing,” she laughed bitterly. “I felt like such a dumbass for letting myself get into that situation. I tho
ught he really liked me, after we spent so much time talking at the club that night.” She frowned and studied her hands. “We talked about a lot of things.” She shrugged and grimaced before adding, “I thought maybe it was a scene. You know, a roleplay. Some people are into that and when I woke up in that horrible place, I thought maybe he was into that sort of thing. But when I take a step back and really think about it, I don’t know. I mean, what if I hadn’t been able to stop him, hadn’t been able to get away?”
A tear rolled down her cheek and she wiped it away impatiently. “He told me he had wanted Queen Bee and only settled for me when he realized he couldn’t have her. Can you believe, that bothered me? How crazy is that? I mean, I would never have wished that basement on her, but, damn. How could I be so dumb? So naïve?”
Goldie and all the other drag queens liked to be referred to as women, and Melanie had never seen them any other way. The terrible thing about any woman being assaulted was how easily she went from victim to accused. Sadly, the accusations often came from within. Goldie had always been a woman in a man’s body so why would her emotions be different from any other woman’s?
One thing was for sure: her abductor wasn’t suffering from the blame game. He was perfecting his game, one victim at a time.
“It’s not your fault,” Melanie said as she gently placed her hand on Goldie’s forearm. “And I think there’s every reason to think you had a narrow escape from someone who is truly evil for evil’s sake. He’s twisted, Goldie. He’s a predator. He studies people to learn their weaknesses, their frailties. That’s how he was able to mess with your head so bad that, even now, you can’t shake it. You’re doubting yourself—don’t. Listen, I’m not sure how much you remember from your ordeal, but we need for you to try to show us where he took you.”
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