Kane’s eyes rolled. “If you say so.”
“When I’m not here during the day there’ll be a cop posted outside the estate for her protection.”
“And if I need to leave?” Sandella questioned.
“Try not to leave unless it’s absolute necessary.”
Sandella’s cell buzzed. She reached inside her purse, tapped the button, then placed it on her ear. “Hello.” She gasped. Her face twisted. “He wants to talk to you,” she said, handing Braylon the phone.
“Hello?”
“She’s one dead bitch,” the man on the other end threatened in a deep chilling voice, then hung up.
Braylon’s heart wrung like a twisting washcloth in his chest.
Chapter Twelve
Inside the main house, Braylon positioned his eye over the peephole and spied across the street beneath the large oak. Officer Jeff Thompson was sitting inside his unmarked vehicle keeping a close watch on the estate for possible endangerment. The undercover cop’s back straightened as a Mercedes with gleaming headlights sailed past him along the dark road.
“I wish you didn’t have to leave right now,” Sandella said sullenly from behind. As he turned to face her she fully entered the living room. Wearing a thin brown sweater and dark jeans, she slid her hands into her pockets, coming to a stop in front of him.
Braylon put a finger under her chin, tilting her head. “I know you’re scared, but you’ll be fine. Jeff is right outside and he’s not going to let anything happen to you or Royce.” He pecked her lips.
Nodding, she began rubbing her arms. “How long will you be gone?”
“I don’t know.”
“Be careful.”
“Always. Lock the doors.” Braylon gently kissed her cheek, then left.
CLOSE TO THIRTY MINUTES LATER, Braylon drove his Hummer into the vacant spot in front of his office building and parked. With Forest possibly monitoring his every move, he’d decided to return to work well after the majority of the employees were gone and were hopefully at home in their beds asleep.
He mounted the steps. What is Forest hiding? The caller sounded nothing like him. He typed his security number into the keypad and the locked door clicked open.
Close to midnight, he entered the quiet dark building to find it empty, even eerie. He rounded his secretary’s desk, strode past his office, then stalked down the long murky hallway toward the storage area where all the original case files were kept.
Coming to a stop in front of the steel door, he punched in his security code. Beeeep. The alarm purred, disarming the airtight security. He proceeded inside, shutting the door behind him.
Turning on the bright lights might signal others that he was inside so he left them off. Although he had a right to be in this room, Forest had a way of making him feel like he didn’t. Row after row of tall silver shelves filled the cold room.
I need to see the original file. Walking between the tight crevices of two shelves on either side, he whipped out his flashlight. Aiming high, he shined the bright beam of light on several white boxes, before finding the one he came to review—Case Number VI78591658.
He reached up high, retracted the box from the shelf, then placed it on the floor. Kneeling, he lifted the lid, and pulled out the original case file belonging to a woman by the name of Victoria Varn. He started perusing the sheets of paper.
Earlier today, right after he’d received the threatening phone call that’d terrified Sandella, he dug harder into the investigation, and had stumbled across several pieces of pertinent information.
Over a year ago, a woman by the name of Victoria had filed a complaint stating she’d been kidnapped on base, taken to Forest’s home that sat behind Sandella’s house, and had been brutally raped.
However, at the time of the unfortunate incident, the rental property had been vacant. Kane probably had no clue about any of this because the occurrence never went public. After everything his family had gone through, Sandella, Kane, and her brothers deserved to know their home sat directly behind that of a monster.
His shoulders felt heavy as he scrutinized the old worn papers which smelled like a combination of grass and acid. Forest investigating the case was nothing new, he thought, reading his signature at the bottom of the report. It’s a damn shame he investigated a crime that took place at his own home. No one probably knows he owns several properties.
Braylon paused when he stumbled across a sheet of paper containing Victoria’s middle name—Victoria Simone Varn. Simone. Simone. Drop the e—Simon?
So this Victoria Varn woman was his Simon?
He flipped to the next sheet of paper in the disorderly stack. As soon as he saw the picture of the female victim stamped in the upper right corner, he swore. A wave of nausea rose to the surface of his gut. Damn. The woman in the photo was his secretary. First thing tomorrow morning he and his secretary, Victoria, were going to have a serious, difficult conversation.
Her last name is Wilkins now. So Varn has to be her maiden name.
The report concluded with Victoria stating the rapist had worn a mask, preventing her from seeing her attacker’s face. But she did verify a spider tattoo on the lower right side of his abdomen.
A spider tattoo? I wonder if Forest has a spider tattoo? Sick over the incriminating evidence, Braylon growled as he tucked the box back on the shelf.
As he made his way back outdoors, a sudden occurrence surged inside his brain. Forest’s youngest son, Todd, had been the last person to live inside the home. I wonder if Todd has a spider tattoo?
EARLY SATURDAY MORNING Braylon stood on Victoria’s front porch knocking on the screen door. A small two-stall barn sat positioned to the right of the home while a large muddy creek known to produce oysters nestled in the depths of the earth behind it. He’d heard all about the summer seafood fests out here on Lady’s Island.
The door creaked open. He turned to find Victoria standing there in a long, fluffy pink robe. “Braylon. What brings you here?” she asked, standing on the other side of the screen door. “I think you know why I’m here, Victoria. May I please come in?”
Victoria pushed the door back and stepped to the side. The sweet smell of cinnamon buns streamed up his nose. The inside of her home was just as cozy and as interesting as the outside. A bright beautiful portrait of a woman wearing a yellow sundress clung to her wall above a white sofa.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your Saturday, but what I have to ask you is too important to wait until Monday.”
Her eyes traveled south. She slid her hands inside the pockets of her robe, then looked back up at him. “I just finished baking some cinnamon rolls, would you like one?” she asked, as if trying to stall the inevitable.
“No thanks. Victoria…I know you’re Simon. I also know that you were raped. As hard as this may be, I want you to tell me wh—”
“It happened last year on Halloween,” she interjected. She sat down on the couch and clasped her fingers together. “Alyssa Carrington invited me to a Halloween party. She said she’d pick me up at the corner where Alpine and Alcorn met. So the evening of the party I went there and waited for her.”
Alyssa? I knew she was no good.
Victoria continued. “When she’d said to meet her there, I found it rather odd because it’s so dark and isolated at the back of the base. But because she was my friend at the time, I trusted it to be okay. I should’ve followed my instincts.” She swallowed.
VICTORIA’S HEART THREATENED to splinter like wood in her tight chest. Sitting across from the detective, she nervously wrung her hands. She knew the smart man would eventually come knocking on her door to question her. Thing is, she had no clue it’d happen this soon. But yet, this is what she’d been praying for—for him to come.
She sighed. I can do this. A tear formed in the bottom rim of her eye as she began telling her side of the story about the night she’d been raped. She parted her mouth to speak and the words took their time coming out. “I decided to go as Snow Whit
e to the Halloween party. I was standing on the corner—”
Standing on the dark corner beneath a dim light post and dressed like Snow White, the cool night air briskly feathered Victoria’s cheeks. As she waited for her girlfriend Alyssa Carrington to come get her, a feeling of uneasiness swept over her. Contemplating if she should leave, she nibbled her bottom lip. Where was Alyssa?
As the scent of the peppery marsh close by wafted up her nose, the lamp post above her head suddenly blinked off. Anxiety coursed through her making her wish she’d never committed to attending the Halloween party.
Just as she put one foot forth to leave, a car turned the corner then slowly drove toward her. The gleaming headlights on the car shinned brightly into her eyes, completely blinding her. She squinted.
Happy because Alyssa had finally arrived, a big smile curved Victoria’s lips. When the car came to a stop in front of her, Alyssa rolled down the passenger side window, and smiled. “Get in.”
“About time you get here. What took you so long?” Victoria asked, wondering who was sitting in the driver’s seat. Alyssa hadn’t mentioned someone else would be joining them this evening.
Victoria hooked her hand under the car handle opening the door. As soon as she slid on the seat in the rear someone bagged her head, suffocating her. She screamed only to swallow her own terrifying sounds.
As her attacker dragged her from the back seat of the car, her legs and arms flailed wildly. He tossed her in the trunk, drove off, and long minutes later she ended up at the house on Claxton.
As her attacker forced her up the steps of the home, he pressed the tip of a sharp blade to her spine. Tears were streaming rapidly down her face. He opened the door, shoved her down the hallway toward the bedroom.
Once inside the cold musky room, he snatched the bag off her head. “Turn around.” He snorted.
Victoria slowly turned around to face him to find he was wearing a black mask to shield his face. The room was so dark, but if she had to guess, she’d say his eyes were a light green just like Forest’s.
The green-eyed monster lifted the shining blade to her cheek and traced it down to her abdomen. She shivered with fear. The whole time she kept thinking why did Alyssa do this to her. Why? Why? Why? From what she could tell Alyssa was nowhere to be found. Maybe she’d gotten out of the car before it’d taken off.
With the tip of the sharp blade now pressed to the base of her throat, he shoved her back on the bed, zipped down his pants, and that’s when she spotted the red spider tattoo with the same green eyes as him on his abdomen.
After he violently took her, he re-covered her head, and hauled her outside. Once her feet left the steps, she sneakily dropped her red costume bracelet on the ground. Then she counted every step she took, and every turn she made.
The sticks snapped beneath her red shiny shoes as they went further out into the woods. “Stop here,” the rapist had ordered. When he’d given her permission to stop walking, she just knew her life was over. That she was going to die out in the dark, cold forest. “Count to one hundred, then you can leave,” was all he said.
As fear sliced her heart in half she proceeded to count. Once she reached one hundred and one, she removed the bag from her head, and had no clue where she was.
Victoria swiped a tear from her eye. “So I just ran as fast as I could and ended up behind Mr. Crow’s old store. Because it was Halloween he was still there passing out candy to the children in the neighborhood. He took me inside and called the police.”
Braylon jotted down the details inside his leather pad, then lifted his gaze to meet her tortured eyes. “Did you ever confront Alyssa about why she left you?”
“Yes.”
“And what did she say?”
“She said it was a joke. That he was supposed to take me in the woods, but the rape was never part of the plan. When I asked her who’d done this to me, she refused to give me a name. She said he’d threatened to kill her if she did.”
“Alyssa needs to own up to her part in this.”
“I think she was about to tell me right before Marc Jackson was murdered.”
Braylon’s face scrunched as he tucked his note pad into his pocket, then he stood. “Thanks for your time. Make sure you lock your doors, and be extremely careful, Victoria. Or shall I say, Simon?” A light chuckle rolled off his lips.
Victoria smiled. “Victoria is fine.”
“Call me if you think of anything else.” He crossed the living room to the front door.
“There is one more thing.” Braylon paused in his tracks, then he turned to face her. She continued. “Over the last three years…there’s been a rape in Beaufort every Halloween night.”
“Halloween?”
“Tonight,” Victoria confirmed.
Braylon sprang into action.
Chapter Thirteen
“But everyone is going to be there!” Drew’s voice pinched Sandella’s eardrums as she stood in her father’s living room observing the affronting look slanting her baby brother’s face. “Please, Dad? I never get to do anything.” Drew pouted, looking down at his father. “Living here is worse than being in prison.”
“Like hell this is jail.” Kane snarled. “When I was growing up—”
“But times have changed,” Drew cut his father off. “Man, everyone at school is going to be there. It’s the biggest party of the year.”
Kane scowled. “You’re not going!”
Drew sucked his teeth. “Sandy! Please!”
Kane shook his head vigorously. “She’s not your mother, son.”
Sandella quickly covered her ears. “All right. All right,” she said, folding her arms across her breasts. “Dad, he has a good point.”
Her father’s eyes rolled. “Like hell he does.”
“Colonel Barton has had the Halloween party for the last three years. His kids attend Beaufort High with Drew. It’ll be good for him to be around his friends.”
“I don’t like this, Sandy.” Kane grumbled.
“He’s a junior, Dad. One more year, and he’ll be an adult.” She patted Drew’s back. “He’s old enough to know right from wrong, and he hasn’t done anything for us not to trust him. I think you should give him an opportunity to prove himself.”
Kane lit his cigarette, then drew in a deep breath. Hot smoke spiraled from his dark, full lips. “You better not disappoint me, son.”
Drew’s eyes beamed with exhilaration. “Thanks, Dad!”
“If you pick him up, I’ll be more than happy to drop him off.”
Kane peered up at Drew. “Be ready to leave by eleven thirty.”
Drew threw up his hands. “Eleven thirty? But it’s not over until twelve.”
“Okay, well make that ten, then.” Kane curled his lips around his cigarette.
Drew relented. “Never mind. Eleven thirty is fine with me,” he said, then took off down the hallway.
Sandella’s heart warmed from her father’s willingness to compromise. “Let me go finish cooking.” She waltzed inside the kitchen to the stove, lifted the lid from the pot, and inhaled the spicy aroma of seafood jambalaya.
The timer on the stove chirped. Mmm. She slid the large baking dish containing fresh tilapia stuffed with lump crabmeat out of the oven and placed it on the stove.
“Dad! Drew! Dinner’s ready!” After fixing her father’s plate, she placed it on the table, then crossed the kitchen to the window. As she stood over the sink observing the dark starless sky, her mind drifted to Braylon.
Earlier this morning, she’d tried to seduce him, and he’d turned down her advances. He’d stated he intended to keep his promise to her father. He wouldn’t touch her until he found her mother’s killer. The more she thought about his promise, the more she disliked it. What if he never captured the killer? Then what? She couldn’t fathom living a life without Braylon. The thought pained her heart.
Just as she stuck her hands into the warm bubbly dish water, her old neighbor, Buddy Greene, appeared on the po
rch at the house behind hers. He turned a beer bottle up to his lips, swallowed, then tossed it in the bin. Was he back? she wondered, scrubbing the pot. God, she sure hoped not.
Bud had resided behind her father’s house a few years back and he’d been the worst neighbor ever. He’d nearly driven her mother crazy with all the loud country music and wild drunken fests he’d held at his home on many late nights. At one point her mother had gotten so upset until she’d called the police on him. Afterward, he’d moved out, and she hadn’t seen or heard from him until now.
Bud descended the steps and started crossing the lawn toward her home.
Oh God, here he comes. Sandella pulled her hands from the warm water and as she dried them on the dish towel, a loud knock resounded on the back door.
She pulled open the back door. Bud’s striking green eyes sparkled when they met hers. He stood beneath the porch light wearing a wrinkled plain white t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. A myriad of tattoos covered his body. The black dragon tattoo on his neck had the same color eyes as he did. So did the tattoo of the woman inked down the length of his right arm.
“Sorry to interrupt you,” he said, his fierce green eyes raking up and down her body, “but I was just about to make dinner when I noticed I needed an onion. Do you by any chance have one?”
An onion? Really? “I’m sorry, but I don’t,” she lied, feeling extremely uncomfortable around him. “Have you moved back in?” Please say no.
“Yep. Sure have.”
Darn. “What brings you back?”
“My father decided to rent out the property I was living in to a family of four. He’s all about making that money, and I don’t blame him in the least bit.” He shifted sideways to look back at his home. “Considering it’s just me, this house fits my needs better anyway. The other place was way too big for just one person.”
“Who’s there?” Kane said, wheeling himself into the kitchen.
“It’s Bud from—”
Kane interjected, “What do you want?”
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