Deadly Illusions (Hardy Brothers Security Book 3)

by Hart, Lily Harper

  “I would feel like that’s taking advantage,” Mandy said. “It doesn’t seem fair.”

  “Well, I don’t have that problem,” the judge said. “Make sure the security department has access to that video. I’ll make a call down to them right now. If we’re lucky, they can find a face to match it to by lunch.”

  Words escaped Mandy – which was a rare experience in her world.

  Judge MacIntosh patted her on the shoulder. “You don’t have to say anything, dear. I want to help young Emma, too. She was just another victim in all of this. She may have been the biggest victim of all. You shouldn’t forget that.”

  That was the one thing that was impossible for Mandy to forget that.

  EMMA, already showered, was sitting on the small back patio at Mandy’s apartment while Finn cleaned up. She had a bag of bread in her hand, and about thirty hungry – and vocal – Canada Geese surrounded her.

  Mandy’s apartment complex had buildings set up in large rectangles – with a manmade pond serving as decoration in the center of each grouping. While the geese were loud – and sometimes aggressive – Emma found joy in their waddling and cackling.

  The day was warm, especially given the frigid temperatures of the past few months. Forty-five degrees felt like spring. There was still a lot of snow on the ground, but the pond was showing signs of melting – which was making the geese especially chatty today.

  Emma was still trying to wrap her mind around the previous day. She’d known Finn Hardy was a good man the day she met him. She’d known he was a wonderful man a week after that. Now she was fighting the urge to call him “perfect,” thus building him up to legendary heights in her own mind.

  Despite his words, and the comfort he’d so freely offered her the night before, part of Emma was still hung up on her previous beliefs. Her father had made sure she knew from a young age that no man would ever want her. That he was the only man she could have in her life. She’d believed him. She’d believed him right up until the moment Finn Hardy had walked into her life.

  Now, part of her heart was opening – like a blooming flower. Another part of her heart was still closed off, still worried, and still doubtful that she had anything of worth to offer Finn.

  She wanted to believe his words so much it hurt.

  As a safety mechanism, Emma had always refused to let herself feel anything for a man before now. Finn had wormed his in way in like a stealthy ninja. She didn’t fully realize what he was doing until he’d already accomplished it. That was his strength. Well, one of many.

  Finn was stout of heart and mind and, if young Emma could have seen him from afar during the terrors of her childhood, she might have had hope to cling to. For that Emma, the broken Emma, hope was something she’d discarded long ago.

  This new Emma – the Emma she was trying so hard to embrace – had hope, and most of that hope revolved around Finn.

  She had to be careful, she cautioned herself. Finn hadn’t promised forever. He’d merely promised right now. Although, when she was with him, forever finally seemed like a possibility. She wasn’t ready to give that up.

  One of the geese squawked loudly, drawing Emma’s attention to the area to her immediate right. She pulled out another slice of bread and broke off a piece. “You’re awfully demanding,” she said. “I’m not sure you deserve any bread.”

  The look on the bird’s face was priceless. Because she was softhearted, Emma gave him two pieces.

  WHEN lunchtime arrived, Mandy raced to her computer to see if Clint had found anything on the video footage from the courthouse. He’d sent her two files with two different possibilities.

  After watching footage of the first man three times, Mandy dismissed him. He was too tall – and his gait was too wide. The man who had attacked Emma was smaller and he took shorter steps.

  Mandy shifted her attention to the second suspect, alarm bells sounding in her brain after only a few seconds of watching the man on the computer screen. He had cropped blond hair, an angular face, and a crooked nose. It was the same nose she’d seen in the footage from the boat show.

  Mandy scanned the file again. Clint had given her a time stamp. She punched the date and time into her database and ran it against the witness list from court that day. One name popped up.

  “Andrew Wayne,” Mandy said, exhaling sharply.

  She clicked on Wayne’s name and scanned his testimony. He’d been twenty when Pritchard was on trial, which made him twenty-five now. Wayne had raped him as a teenager three different times during piano lessons – one time tying him to the bench with piano wire so he couldn’t move as he sodomized him for more than an hour.

  Mandy’s stomach churned. If anyone deserved the death penalty, it was rapists and molesters. Pritchard was definitely sick.

  Mandy delved further into the file. Judge MacIntosh wordlessly joined her a few minutes later, reading the screen over her shoulder. “I remember him,” he said. “He was really angry, not that he didn’t have a right to be. His story was especially terrible. Pritchard seemed to get off torturing him. I remember thinking that, odds were, he’d either kill himself or someone else if he didn’t get some therapy.”

  “It’s him,” Mandy said. “I’m positive.”

  “I believe you,” Judge MacIntosh said. “All the pieces fit.”

  Mandy bit the inside of her cheek. She wanted to check one other thing. She pulled up an Internet window and Googled Andrew Wayne, adding Michigan to the search engine to narrow down the results.

  After clicking on a few links, Mandy sat back in her chair, her heart heavy.

  “What is it?”

  “He’s a graduate student at Wayne State University,” Mandy said. “He’s getting a Ph.D. in chemistry.”

  Judge MacIntosh knitted his eyebrows together. “I’m not sure why that’s important.”

  “The detective in Eastpointe told Finn that the acid blend was specially made,” Mandy explained. “He also said the accelerant used in the fire was specially made, too.”

  “Which would take a chemistry student,” MacIntosh finished.

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, I think you have your suspect.”

  Mandy glanced at the clock on the wall. “I need to make a quick call.”

  “Take your time,” the judge said. “I’m the judge. I can be as late as I want. No one can argue with me because I’m in charge. Why do you think I became a judge?”

  “Thank you,” Mandy said. “I know I’ve been nothing but a pain for about two weeks now … .”

  “You’re a hard worker,” MacIntosh said. “You have nothing to be sorry about. Sometimes there are things that are more important than work – and this would definitely be one of those things.”

  “I’m still putting you on the spot,” Mandy hedged.

  “Saving an innocent woman is not putting me on the spot,” he replied, puffing out his chest. “It makes me feel like a bit of a hero.”

  “You were already a hero,” Mandy said, picking up her phone and shooting him a grateful smile.

  “What’s up?” James asked when he answered.

  “How did you know it was me?”

  “Who else would be calling me from the courthouse?” James asked. “I have Caller ID, remember?”

  “I didn’t think of that.”

  “Yeah, you’re not the only smart one around here,” James teased. “Not that I’m not glad to hear from you – and if you want to have dirty phone sex on your lunch hour, I’m all for it – but something tells me you have something tumbling around that big brain of yours.”

  “Yeah, well, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I recognized the guy from the video,” Mandy said.

  “I sent the footage to Maverick,” James said. “He’s working on it right now. Hopefully he’ll have answers for us soon.”

  “I’ve already matched it.”

  There was silence on the other end of the phone.

  “Are you there?”

  “I’m just �
�� dumbfounded. How did you match it?”

  “Well, actually it was Judge MacIntosh’s idea,” Mandy said.

  “You told the judge about this?”

  “He presided over the case,” Mandy reminded him.

  “Oh, yeah, continue.”

  “He suggested having the security personnel go through the footage from the Pritchard case and see if they could find a match to our footage,” Mandy said.

  “So, you sweet talked Clint,” James supplied.

  “I felt guilty about that and couldn’t do it,” Mandy said. “You know how Clint is. It makes me uncomfortable. So, the judge ordered him to do it for me.”

  James barked out a laugh. “You’re always full of surprises. What did you find?”

  “He sent me two possibilities,” Mandy said. “I ruled out the first one right away. He was too tall.”

  “And the second?”

  “It’s him.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Okay,” James said. “Now we just have to put a name to the face.”

  “I’ve already done that, too.”

  “Seriously?”

  “What? All I had to do was take the time stamp from the court footage and then match it up to the witness list,” Mandy said. “It’s not like it was rocket science.”

  “I am so turned on right now.”

  “Just to make sure, I then Googled the name,” Mandy said. “It came back to a chemistry graduate student at Wayne State University.”

  James sucked in a breath. “What’s the name, baby?”

  “Andrew Wayne,” Mandy said. “He was a victim of Pritchard’s, and Pritchard was really sadistic with him. There was piano wire involved.”

  James swore under his breath. “Do you have an address for him now?”

  “What? Do I have to do everything?”

  “Is there an address in the file for where he lived at the time?”

  Mandy recited it back to him.

  “This is great,” James said. “I’m going to take you out to a special dinner when this is all over with. I’ll even watch one of those stupid shark marathons on the SyFy channel with you. You’ll have to be naked to make it worth my while, but I’ll totally watch it with you.”

  Mandy bit her bottom lip.

  “I can hear your mind working over the phone,” James said.

  “Just … remember, he was a victim, too.”

  “I know,” James said. “I’ll do what I can. Emma has to be our priority.”

  “I know.”

  “Mandy?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  EMMA was almost out of bread. Finn had been in the shower for more than ten minutes, which probably meant he would be getting out soon. She should finish up here and then get inside. They had a lot to do today – including going to the rental office at the apartment complex. Emma had decided she was comfortable here. She liked the neighborhood and the proximity to easy shopping. She wanted to stay. She was hoping to get a unit in Mandy’s building. Even though the blonde was rarely there, the idea of being close to her unit was a bonus.

  Emma grabbed the final two slices of bread and shredded them, tossing the pieces into the air so the geese could fight over them. She crumpled the empty bag in her hand and turned back toward the apartment.

  The man standing on the adjacent patio staring at her caused her to pull up short. When had he gotten here? She hadn’t even heard him approach.

  Emma studied the man closely. He looked harmless enough. His blond hair was shorn close to his scalp, and his green eyes were clear and sharp. His face was handsome, that weird, crooked nose making him interesting to look at.

  “Hi,” she greeted him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

  The man didn’t respond. Emma didn’t like the way he was looking at her.

  “Well, um, I have to be getting back inside.”

  Emma moved toward the sliding door, her hand already on the handle, when something stopped her. That something was the man. He was right next to her now, his hand on top of hers as she tried to slide the screen back so she could step inside.

  Emma swallowed hard.

  Uh-oh.

  Twenty-Six

  Finn shut the water off and reached around the shower curtain to grab the towel off of the counter. This was the last clean one, which meant someone was going to have to do laundry today. Funnily enough, the idea of doing something as domestic as laundry with Emma had the same appeal as taking her out on the town. More even.

  Finn glanced down at his phone, which was sitting on the closed toilet lid, and checked to see if he’d missed any calls or messages. Nothing. It’s not like he expected the case to magically solve itself or anything, but he would feel better when he knew Emma was safe. When that happened, they would be able to focus on each other and really get to know one another.

  Finn was smiling as he plugged his electrical razor into the outlet, flipping the switch. He opted for a close shave today – as close as he could get. He had visions of rubbing his cheeks against every soft part of Emma’s skin later in the day. He would need a close shave for that, even if he doubted that Emma would complain about the stubble burn.

  It took Finn about five minutes to complete his task. After splashing on some aftershave, and stashing the razor in the drawer, he dressed quickly. Emma was probably still outside feeding those infernal birds. He had no idea why she was so taken with them. When she’d told him her idea to move into the building, Finn had requested she pick a unit on the second or third floor. Balconies were much safer than patios in places like this – which was another reason James didn’t want Mandy to spend a lot of time at the apartment. When Emma had argued, Finn realized it was because of the stupid geese. He told her she could always walk down to the pond and feed them every day if she wanted to. Reluctantly, she had finally agreed.

  Once he was satisfied that he looked as good as he possibly could, he reached down and grabbed his phone, frowning when the missed-call bubble flashed on the screen. Finn peered at it closely for a second, recognizing James’ number. He punched the voice mail button and held up the phone to his ear to listen.

  EMMA didn’t know what to do. Technically, the man wasn’t doing anything to her. He was just watching her. Staring. Staring rather intently, in fact. Sure, he’d put his hand on hers to stop her from opening the door, but that couldn’t be regarded as overtly hostile.

  Maybe he was in some sort of trouble? Maybe he needed help?

  “Is something wrong?” Emma asked, purposely putting some distance between herself and the stranger.

  The man just stood there mutely.

  “Do you need help? Do you need me to make a call or something? If so, I have a phone inside.”

  Still nothing.

  Emma was moving beyond worried and passing straight into terror. Something wasn’t right here. “I, um, need to go inside. My boyfriend is waiting for me.”

  The man finally spoke. “Your boyfriend?”

  Emma nodded. “Yeah. He’s right in there.”

  The man wrinkled his nose, disgust washing over his features. “You have no idea who I am, do you?”

  Emma faltered. Now that he mentioned it, there was something familiar about his face. “I’m sorry, I … did I meet you at a show?”

  Silence again.

  “Was it at Detcon? I met a lot of people there,” Emma said, wringing her hands nervously. “Most of them were in makeup, so they’re not so easy to remember.”

  If two years of modeling had taught Emma anything, it was that strangers at events always expected you to remember them. It never occurred to them that theirs was merely one of a thousand faces she saw each day. In their minds, they always thought they were special.

  “What’s Detcon?” The man asked, furrowing his brow.

  “It’s the Detroit ComicCon,” Emma replied, furrowing her brow. “I guess that’
s not where I met you.”

  “No.”

  Emma searched her memory. “Were you at the ice festival last weekend?”

  “No.”

  “Were you at the boat show?”

  The man shifted slightly, the look on his face making Emma’s blood turn to ice.

  “Oh … .”

  “Yeah, oh,” the man sneered.

  Emma considered screaming for Finn. The man would be on her before she finished yelling, but maybe Finn would be quick enough to pull him off of her before he did any real damage. She didn’t make a sound, though. Instead, she waited.

  The man just kept staring at her, making her skin crawl. That’s when she knew.

  “You’re one of them, aren’t you?”

  “One of whom?”

  “One of my father’s … one of the people my father hurt.”

  “Yeah, I’m one of them.”

  Emma searched the man’s face. She’d sat through her father’s entire trial – listening to the depraved things he’d done every chance he got. After a certain amount of time, the faces became a blur. The stories, though, they were etched in her mind. She woke up screaming from the stories at least once a week.

  Emma was resigned. “Which one?”

  “You don’t know?”

  “I know your names,” Emma said. “Not your faces.”

  “Why don’t you know our faces?”

  Emma decided to be honest. “Because your faces all melded together in my mind,” Emma said. “It was your stories that made an impact.”

  The man tilted his head to the side, considering. “In a weird way, I guess that makes sense.”

  “So, what’s your name?”

  “Andrew … .”

  “Andrew Wayne,” Emma finished for him, her face draining of color when his story pushed forward. The things her father had done to Andrew – some of which hadn’t even come out in court – were horrific.

  “So, you do know my name,” he mused.

  “I try to know all of your names.”

  “What else do you know?”

  “I know what he did to you,” Emma said. “I know all of it.”