by Cynthia Eden
“There is no way out.” Meadows was adamant.
“No.” Dane shook his head. “Not for him.” He rolled his shoulders, trying to push away his tension. He had to go in there and get the bastard to confess…to all of his crimes. He wanted an airtight case against Valentine. Wanted to nail this bastard to the wall. “Let’s do this, Mac.” He turned toward the door.
And found his path blocked by Meadows. The guy’s lips were tight and his voice hard as he said, “You did a great job bringing him in, Detective Black, but from now on, you’re staying away from him.” He motioned to two detectives on the left. “Forrest, Smith, get me a confession.”
“What the fuck?” Mac demanded.
“I’m thinking about trial,” Meadows snapped right back. “You…” He pointed at Dane. “You’re sleeping with the killer’s ex.”
“Watch it.” Dane’s back teeth ground together.
“And you…” Meadows glanced at Mac. “The killer threatened your lover. Neither one of you two are what I’d call unbiased. If I’m getting a needle shoved in that guy’s arm, then I need a confession that won’t be tossed. One his lawyer won’t get shredded by the judge.” He exhaled and shrugged. “Sorry, men, but you’re out.”
“This is bullshit,” Mac spat out as he stabbed a finger into the DA’s chest. “We worked this case. Risked our lives for it, and you’re shutting us out now?”
There was regret in his eyes, but Meadows simply said, “Yes.”
“No way, no—” Mac began.
Dane put his hand on his partner’s shoulder. “It’s okay.”
Mac spun on him. “How can you be so cool?”
He wasn’t. He was burning on the inside. “He’s cuffed. We got him, Mac. We got the bastard.” And if they needed to step back so the deal would be sealed and a needle shoved into the guy…I can do that.
Because it wasn’t about grabbing a headline or being the detective who was up on the stand making the big testimony before all the cameras. To him, this was about Katherine. Giving her life back to her.
About stopping Valentine. Making sure that bastard never hurt anyone else.
Katherine was safe. Ronnie was safe.
And I hope to hell that Maggie is, too.
“We did our job,” Dane said again.
Mac gave a grudging nod.
“The perp has already flatly refused to talk to the profiler, so Marcus Wayne is back studying the last crime scene, getting us more evidence to nail this guy’s coffin shut,” Meadows said. “This is a high-fucking-profile case. It’s gonna be on every news channel in the United States. I don’t want anything screwing it up.”
Dane looked over his shoulder. Forrest and Smith had just entered interrogation room one.
Valentine frowned at them, then shook his head. “Do I look like I want amateur hour?” he demanded.
You don’t want anything screwing it up, Meadows? Then watch out…because Valentine lives to screw with people.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Smith drawled, grabbing the chair across from Valentine. “We aren’t amateurs.”
Valentine started to laugh. Deep, rumbling chuckles as he tossed back his head. Then, with his lips still twisting, he looked away from those two detectives and stared right at the two-way mirror. Right at Dane.
“I’m only talking to Dane and Mac. The rest of the detectives here can fuck off.”
“It’s not about what you want,” Smith began.
Valentine kept staring at the mirror. “Meadows, are you there too?”
The guy stiffened beside Dane.
“You have such a lovely wife,” Valentine said. “Sweet lady, but Tonya doesn’t know about all the deals you make with killers, does she? Bad move, dealing with devils. You could get burned.”
“He did not just fucking say my wife’s name.” A lethal intensity had entered Meadows’s voice.
“Meadows, meet Valentine,” Dane muttered. He had the feeling that Valentine had been ahead of the cops from the beginning.
Was still ahead.
Where was Maggie?
“I haven’t asked for a lawyer,” Valentine said, the heel of his right foot tapping back against his chair leg. “And I won’t.”
“Because you’re a dumb-ass,” Meadows growled.
“But I’m only talking to Dane and Mac.” Valentine’s foot stopped tapping as he leaned back in his chair. The smile slowly faded from his face. “And it’s not like we really have time to waste.”
Meadows was frowning. “He’s bullshitting.”
“Valentine doesn’t bullshit,” Dane replied. The DA should know that. “And maybe you should rethink having Wayne away from the station during the interrogation.”
“Look around,” Valentine said, then widened his eyes innocently. “The gang should all be here, right? But…is someone missing?”
“Margaret,” Meadows whispered.
Dane shook his head. “Maggie wouldn’t be at the station. She never comes here.” She hated that her father was a cop. Hated the danger that had stalked him for her entire life.
The gang…
Dane’s gaze met Mac’s. “Were any cops missing after that explosion? Was there anyone who wasn’t accounted for?” They’d been so busy hunting for Valentine in the swamp. Had he been hunting one of them?
“The longer I wait, the less I’ll share.” Valentine’s gaze flickered to the detectives in the room with him. “You two should just get the hell out.”
“And you need to stop acting like you’re the man in charge,” Forrest said as he sauntered up behind Valentine. “You need to—”
Valentine lunged up from his chair, twisted, and slammed his head into Forrest’s face. Blood spurted from the detective’s nose. He reached for his gun.
The uniforms rushed forward, ready to restrain Valentine.
But the guy just sat back in his chair, as nice as you please. Blood was on his shirt. He was smiling again.
Meadows hit the button for the intercom. “Cuff the bastard to the table.”
The door opened behind Dane. Detective Karen James came inside. Like most of the cops, she was eager to get an up-close look at the killer. Only she shouldn’t have been in there at that moment—when they’d arrived at the station, Karen had been assigned to watch Katherine while Dane met with the DA.
“What happened to Forrest?” Karen asked as she leaned closer to the glass.
“Valentine,” Mac answered.
Dane exhaled slowly. He didn’t like that the killer was still playing his games with them. The whole scene felt wrong. “Where’s Katherine?” Dane asked.
“In Harley’s office,” Karen replied, her gaze still on Valentine. “Don’t worry, your lady’s safe.”
Your lady. “You need to send us in, Meadows,” Dane said, his voice hardening.
“I thought you were fine with us staying out here,” Mac muttered, frowning at him.
“That was before the asshole asked for us and broke Forrest’s nose.” And said we were running out of time. He’s still playing his games.
Meadows loosened his tie. “I can’t. You’re personally involved. The captain should have pulled you.”
“We brought the bastard in because of our personal involvement. If Katherine hadn’t been working with us, a dozen cops might have died at that house on Oakland. She saved Harley’s life. Every step of the way, she was trying to help us figure out Valentine.”
Dane looked back through the mirror. Forrest had his hand shoved under his nose, trying to stop the blood flow. It looked like the guy was exercising all of his self-control to keep from attacking Valentine.
And Valentine, he was just sitting there as calm as you please.
“I’m sure my propensity for violence is listed in my profile,” Valentine said, straightening his shoulders. “You don’t need to act so surprised by the attack, Detective.”
Listed in my profile…
Dane’s eyes narrowed.
The gang should all be here.
Meadows faltered.
“Has anyone seen Anthony Ross?” Dane demanded.
The cops stared blankly at him.
Dane yanked out his phone and tried to get the marshal on the line. Ross would want to know about Valentine—but hell, when they’d brought the killer to the station, the reporters had been waiting for them. Valentine’s new face was already splashed on all the TVs in town.
Ross would have heard the reports. He should have been there.
And Ross wasn’t answering his phone.
Dane’s fingers tightened around the phone. Ross had been at the explosion on Oakland, but Dane hadn’t seen the guy since then. “Was he taken to the hospital after Oakland?” The scene had been chaos. So many injured cops…
No one answered. Shit. Dane called Mercy General, got the attendant to check, but there was no record of an Anthony Ross being treated.
Dane glanced around the room and saw John Baylor. He was damn glad John was there—the man was the best tech support they had. “Trace his phone,” he ordered John.
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Meadows began. “If a man doesn’t answer when you call, that doesn’t mean—”
“Valentine is too smug, too damn confident for a man who should be looking at death.” Dane shook his head. “Anthony Ross has been on this case for three years—three years—but he’s not here now, when we actually have Valentine?” No, that wasn’t the way the scene would play.
Sweat beaded near the DA’s temples. “Fine. John, get a trace on his phone. Show the detective that he’s wrong.”
Dane wanted to be wrong.
“He’s not afraid of us,” Mac said. “That asshole should be afraid.”
“He’s not afraid because he doesn’t give a shit what we think.” Dane took his gun out of his holster. Put it on the table. If he was going in that room, he wanted to remove temptation from his grasp.
Because I want you dead, bastard. When he got close to Valentine, the temptation to shoot just might be too strong for him.
“He only cares about Katherine,” Mac added as he scrubbed a hand over his face. “She’s the only one—”
“And we just might have to get her in there.” Dane’s jaw ached from gritting his teeth. “He’s not going to tell Forrest and Smith anything. We’re wasting too much fucking time.”
Valentine stopped grinning. “Tick, tick, tick.”
Screw this. Dane shoved past Meadows and pushed the button for the intercom. “You took someone.”
Valentine raised his brows. “Did I, Detective Black?”
“He’s got them both,” Mac said. “Both.”
“You’re jumping to conclusions,” Meadows told them, but his voice was shaking. “We have no proof that…”
John cleared his throat and put down the phone he’d had at his ear. “Sir, a trace wasn’t necessary. We just located Ross’s phone.” Meadows looked relieved. “I told you—”
“The ME found it in Evelyn Knight’s coat pocket. She heard it ringing when Detective Black called—”
“Sonofabitch.” From Meadows.
“Tick, tick, tick,” Valentine said once more. “If you don’t hurry, you’re gonna be seeing red.” His head cocked as he studied the big, round clock on the wall to his right. “And look at that, it’s Valentine’s Day.”
Then Meadows was the one rushing from the room and heading into interrogation. Mac and Dane were with him, clearing a path.
Meadows shoved the door open, and it banged against the wall. “Do you have knowledge of Anthony Ross’s whereabouts?”
Valentine nodded. “I believe I do.” His fake drawl rolled beneath the words.
“Where is he?”
Valentine tapped his chin with his right index finger. “He’s dying right now. Every precious second just ticking past.” Valentine’s sigh held no regret. “I kept trying to tell you we don’t have time to dick around here.”
“Where—”
“Ah, Detective Black, I figured you’d join me, if I used the right bait.” Valentine’s eyes held no emotion. “Now that we’re all here and not pulling the ridiculous bullshit of talking through the glass, this is how the deal is going to work.” He leaned forward.
“I don’t deal with—” Meadows began.
“You deal with every murderer, rapist, and pedophile that you can.” Valentine’s voice was mild. “And you will fucking deal with me. Or I’ll make your world a nightmare.”
Meadows surged toward him. “You’re threatening me?”
“If I were, you’d already be dead.” Valentine inclined his head. “Right now, I’m dealing with you. Offering a trade. One life, for another.”
“We’re not letting you go, bastard.” Meadows glared at Valentine.
“Then I guess that will be one life lost.” Valentine didn’t look like he cared worth a damn. “But the marshal was always expendable, wasn’t he? It’s the girl, the pretty little blonde. I’m betting she’ll matter more.”
Hell. Until that moment, Dane had been holding out some hope that there was a mistake. That Maggie would turn up at the hospital, rushing to her father’s bedside.
The silence in the room was thick and dark and evil. Just like Valentine.
“You’re fucking enjoying this, aren’t you?” Dane knew it was true.
Valentine blinked, as if surprised. “Of course I enjoy my kills. Don’t you enjoy it when you have the power of life and death over someone? When you have all the control?”
“I don’t get off on killing,” Dane bit off the words through clenched teeth.
Anger flared in Valentine’s eyes, but the expression cooled quickly. Control. Yeah, that bastard wanted to have it, all right.
“Here’s how this deal will work,” Valentine said, his voice rumbling. “I’ll take you to the marshal, in exchange for your not seeking the death penalty.”
“And what will you want for Maggie’s life?” Dane demanded.
Meadows had backed away from Valentine. Smart move. The guy must have just noticed the blood on the floor, courtesy of Forrest. Forrest was currently leaning against the right wall. Meadows and Smith and Forrest and the uniforms were all afraid of Valentine. Their body language and their shifting eyes screamed their fear.
And Valentine liked for them to be afraid.
Dane stalked toward the guy. He grabbed Valentine’s chair and spun the bastard so that he had to fully face him. “What do you expect to get for her?”
Valentine blinked. “Isn’t it obvious? It should be. I mean, what’s the one thing I want in this world?”
Katherine.
Dane shoved his hands down on Valentine’s shoulders. The pressure would ensure that Valentine didn’t lunge up and attack him the way the guy had done with Forrest. Then Dane leaned closer to him and whispered, “You’re not getting near Katherine.”
“Then your captain will find his little girl’s body.” A bitter laugh. “Or maybe he won’t. Maybe he won’t ever know what happened to her. Maybe he’ll spend his whole life searching for her bones.”
Dane stared into the man’s eyes. There should have been a soul there. There should have been emotions. Hate. Fury. Fear. There should have been something. “How the hell did you wind up this way?” he asked.
“Maybe I was always like this.” But Valentine’s eyelids flickered. “Now bring Kat to me, and let’s get this show on the road.”
Dane shook his head. Valentine was talking now. That was what they wanted. Step one was a success. As far as Katherine was concerned, never gonna happen. They’d keep the guy talking. Maybe break through that wall of ice he was using for protection, and then he’d slip up. Give them a clue to Ross’s or Maggie’s whereabouts.
The door opened behind him. Dane didn’t glance back over his shoulder. When a snake was about to strike, you damn well didn’t look away. Everyone knew that lesson. Every. On
e.
Footsteps shuffled toward him. Slow.
“Where is she?” The captain’s voice. Weak.
Fuck. “You shouldn’t be here, Harley.” The captain still should have been in the hospital.
“Heard…you brought him in…had to come see…the others told me…on the way…can’t find…my Maggie…”
He’d never heard the captain sound so lost.
“She was crying for him when I left her,” Valentine said.
The captain sucked in a pained breath.
The guy had just damn well confessed to hurting Maggie, but Dane knew he had to push for more, so he said, “That’s bullshit. You put duct tape over your victims’ mouths. You don’t let them talk or cry or beg.” Maybe the guy didn’t have her. Maybe—
“I let Evelyn talk. When you got there, did you see duct tape on her mouth?”
No, there hadn’t been any duct tape on her.
“She confessed to killing Savannah Slater and Amy Evans.” He exhaled slowly. “Such a troubled woman. Dr. Knight was so very broken.”
And you’re not?
“Where is…Margaret?” Harley’s hand closed around Dane’s shoulder. Dane let the guy haul him back.
But then…
He never expected the captain to move so fast. In an instant, the captain had his gun out and the barrel shoved right against Valentine’s head. Dead center in the middle of his forehead. “Where is my girl?”
It seemed as if every cop in the room had stopped breathing. Except for the captain. His breath sawed in and out. In and out. Heavy and too hard.
Dane’s hands were in the air. Frozen. “You don’t want to do this, Harley.”
“He told me…I did…nothing.”
Dane took a cautious step toward the captain. The guy’s body was trembling.
“I let you…get hurt…all those…years.” The gun dug deeper into Valentine’s forehead. “I won’t…do nothing now.” His finger was squeezing the trigger. “Where is she?”
“If you kill me, she just dies a slower, more painful death.” Valentine’s voice was mild and even. He’s taunting Harley.
Harley’s face crumbled. Dane lunged forward, grabbed the gun, and pushed the captain back.