Black List_Black Star Security

by Cynthia Rayne

  Lucy felt nauseated all of a sudden. She swayed in her seat, and subconsciously, clutched her thigh. Once again, she could feel Hussam’s hot breath on her skin.

  “Are you alright?” Storm asked. “Dammit. You shouldn’t even be listening to this. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

  Lucy bit the inside of her cheek. “No, I’m fine, please continue.”

  “Do the police have any leads?” Nox asked.

  Travis shook his head. “Not from what I’ve seen. I’m not even sure they’ve connected all the dots.”

  “I’ll check in with Huck and see if he knows anything,” Nox said.

  “Thanks.” Storm turned to Mack. “Will you check and see if any people with that fetish got paroled recently?”

  “Sure, it’s a longshot, but it’s worth a look.”

  “Excellent. I’ve got Christy’s SD card and I’ll see if I can get anything from it.”

  “Anything else we should know?” Nox asked.

  “The cause of death in all three cases is mysterious. It’s like their hearts just stopped.”

  Which was unusual, for three fit young women. Something didn’t add up here.

  Storm glanced at Lucy and she nodded, encouraging him to continue.

  “And there’s one more thing. The women were raped, but the killer didn’t leave any DNA behind.”

  Of course not, because irrefutable, genetic evidence would be too easy.

  Lucy couldn’t bear it. Tom had defiled Christy and then desecrated her body. He would pay for this. She’d wanted to bring the man to justice, but jail seemed to be too civilized for this asshole. Tom deserved to be six feet under, in an unmarked grave.

  “What about you and Lucy?” Nox asked.

  “I’d like to take a closer look at the bodies.”

  Mack sighed. “Please tell me you’re not considering breaking into a morgue.”

  Storm grinned. “No, I’m not considering it. I already have a plan.”

  Chapter 4

  Lucy woke with a scream.

  She sat up in bed, gulping in air. Four hours ago, she’d laid down to take a nap.

  Lucy could hardly breathe, and her heart thundered. She felt like it was going to break through her chest. She wrapped the covers around her chilled body, but they offered little in the way of comfort.

  Lucy had never had such a horrific nightmare.

  In the dream, Christy was walking down the hallway with a man hidden in the shadows, and Lucy had been screaming for her to stop, trying to warn her to get away from him. All of a sudden Christy’s bedroom door slammed shut behind them, and Lucy had been clawing at the handle, trying to force it open, throwing herself against the wood.

  It was useless. Hopeless. No matter what she did, Lucy couldn’t break it down.

  She’d been forced to listen to Christy’s dying screams as the bastard murdered her. Again.

  Lucy raked a hand through her hair, and it was dripping with sweat. Could she handle something this personal? Putting herself in danger, doing her patriotic duty hadn’t hurt like this. It had been dangerous, scary, but she’d never been personally invested.

  What if she couldn’t find Christy’s killer? Lucy had spent the rest of the day combing through the evidence, looking for clues someone might’ve missed. And she’d come up empty.

  A sharp knock startled her.

  “Are you okay?”

  It was Storm. Of course.

  Lucy blew out a breath. “I’m fine.”

  Get it together, girl. Whoever heard of a shrieking Marine? Annoyed with herself, she hopped out of bed.

  “Are you sure? I heard you crying out.”

  “I said, I’m fine.” Lucy wished he’d just leave her the hell alone.

  “Can I come in?”

  Ugh. He’d always been persistent. Lucy wanted to tell him to go away, but Storm wouldn’t let it go, not until he’d personally seen she was alright.

  “Suit yourself.” She rolled her eyes.

  He stepped inside and scrutinized her. His cool gaze missed nothing.

  And Lucy suddenly realized she was only wearing a pair of undies and a t-shirt. Although, she refused to cover up. Acting girlish in front of him would be misinterpreted.

  “Like I said, I’ve got this.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not buying it.”

  “Sounds like your problem, not mine.”

  “If you ever need to talk, I’m here.”

  “As if.” Lucy snorted. “I’ll find somebody else. Maybe Nox?”

  He closed his eyes and fisted his hands at both sides. Lucy bet he was mentally counting down from ten.

  Just once, she’d like to see him lose it, have a real meltdown. Storm kept his emotions on a tight leash, and she envied him in some ways. Sometimes Lucy felt like she was at the mercy of hers.

  Storm’s gaze dipped down, taking in her long, bare legs. “I figured we’d take off in a couple of hours.”

  She tipped her chin, daring him to make a comment about her lack of clothing. He didn’t.

  “Works for me, I’ve got some stuff to take care of.” She planned on checking her email, messaging the bail bondsman, and keeping busy until it was time to go.

  Only he didn’t leave.

  “Was there anything else?”

  “You need to eat.”

  “I’m not hungry.” Even the thought soured her stomach.

  “Your sleep schedule is messed up and we’re gonna be up all night.”

  “What are you? My dad?” Lucy snapped.

  His nostrils flared. “If I was, what you and I did in the back of that Range Rover was pretty fucked up.”

  She shut her eyes against the onslaught of unwanted memories—his big hands cupping her ass, the way he’d groaned against her breasts, how they’d gyrated against each other like two teenagers humping on the downstairs couch.

  Her cheeks burned. “We didn’t—"

  “No, but we came pretty damn close.” Storm stood in the doorway, like an immovable wall. “Let’s bring it back to breakfast. You need fuel to work. I’m making you two pastured eggs and turkey bacon, with tomato slices on the side.”

  She turned up her nose. “It’s not real bacon, it’s fake.”

  “Too damn bad. The regular stuff isn’t healthy. It’ll be ready in twenty minutes and you’re going to eat it. End of discussion.”

  She opened her mouth to tell him off again, and then shut it. He was right, of course, Lucy needed something in her stomach if she was going to function.

  “What?” he asked, raising his brows. “Something you wanna say?”

  “No. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  ***

  “This place is dark as a tomb.”

  “No pun intended?” Lucy asked.

  Storm chuckled. “It was accidental, but pretty damn good if I do say so myself.”

  Lucy mentally kicked herself for quipping with him. She should be getting in touch with her inner bitch and pushing Storm away.

  They’d slipped into the county morgue through a basement window. There’d been surprisingly little security at the place. Then again, it’s not like the bodies would get up and walk out.

  The scent of bleach assailed her nostrils, but it did little to cover up the scent of blood and death wafting through the cold room.

  Lucy wrapped her arms around herself, to ward off the chill. It was summertime, and the temperature was 80°, even in the middle of the night. The difference in temperatures between inside and out was noticeable. This place was probably hovering around fifty degrees.

  “We can’t work like this. Let there be light,” Storm said, flipping the switch on the wall. The flickering fluorescent lights overhead made a buzzing, electronic sound as they came on.

  “Are you sure we should be doing that?” Lucy asked.

  “There’s no windows down here. Besides, people roll up the sidewalks at nine o’clock around here.”

  Storm sounded so annoyed. Then again, he’d live
d in some of the most cosmopolitan cities in the world, according to his stories anyway. When they’d been friends, she’d loved listening to him talk about Paris and Madrid. He’d made traveling sound romantic.

  And she supposed he had a point. No one would see them from outside, and the building was empty. Besides, she wasn’t eager to be in the dark at the morgue.

  I gotta stop watching The Walking Dead. It’s messing with my mind.

  Christy, Betty, and Naomi had already been laid out on the exam tables. Next to them, were trays of surgical equipment. They looked like medieval torture devices. Clearly, they were planning on doing autopsies tomorrow morning. They’d gotten here in the nick of time.

  Lucy had seen death up close and personal before, but this was obscene somehow.

  The victims were covered by a blue hospital sheet for the sake of modesty although it was a ridiculous notion. They’d both been violated, carved up and killed. Their dignity had already been taken away.

  “It looks like the police have been examining the women too.” Storm stepped closer to Naomi’s gurney. “At least we don’t have to pull them out of the freezers.”

  She walked over to Christy and smoothed the hair from her face. Christy didn’t look like herself anymore. The overhead lights washed out her skin, made it appear paler. She was lifeless, waxy. Christie looked more like a porcelain doll or a mannequin, a caricature of herself.

  When she glanced up, Storm was watching her intently.

  “Do you need a minute?” he asked gently.

  “Of course not, I’m fine.”

  Lucy schooled her features, as though she felt nothing. It was all too easy to pretend. She’d had years of practicing hiding her feelings, stuffing everything down and acting as though nothing mattered. Lucy often wondered if one day she’d lose the ability to feel entirely.

  And would that be so bad? Hell no.

  “Are you sure?” Storm asked.

  “Yes.”

  He looked as though he were about to argue with her, and then Storm simply nodded.

  Lucy spoke. “I think we should handle this situation without the police.”

  “What about getting justice?”

  “These days, I’m more about vengeance.” There was an edge to her tone.

  He mulled it over for a moment. “I won’t lose any sleep over this prick’s death, but the families have a right to know what happened.”

  “You want to give them closure.”

  “Yes.” He glanced away. “Not knowing what happened to someone you love is agony.”

  Lucy hated to admit it, but he made a compelling case. She’d longed for answers for years. While there hadn’t been a death in her situation, there’d been grief and a strong sense of unfinished business.

  “Fine, we’ll do it your way for now.”

  “Thanks. If we dig up anything, we’ll send it to Huck, the local sheriff.”

  “You trust him?” Lucy asked.

  “Yeah, he’s a good man.

  Lucy nodded. “Then, let’s take care of this thing as soon as possible. I want to get the hell out of this town as soon as I can.”

  “There’s no reason to stay?” He didn’t look her way, but Storm had gone completely still.

  “Nope. None at all.” Lucy grinned. So, fuck off and get out of my face.

  “Let’s take a look at their charts.” Storm picked up the one nearest to him, and she picked up Betty’s. Lucy couldn’t bear to look at Christy’s.

  “They found evidence of vaginal swelling and bruising, so Betty was…” Lucy trailed off.

  Hussam had held her down, pumping himself into her roughly. She’d never been sure if it was rape or not. Agreeing to be his mistress had been a gray area. The CIA had pushed her into the situation, but she could’ve refused.

  And then what? You’d end up in a dark hole somewhere instead? It hadn’t been much of a choice.

  “Raped,” Storm finished for her. “Naomi, too.” He picked up Christy’s chart and thumbed through it. “And Christy, too.” Storm frowned. “I don’t get it.”

  “What?” she asked. “The killer must’ve used a condom.”

  “From what I understand, killers don’t want distance between them and the victim. It’s all about power and rage, right?”

  Lucy nodded.

  “But all these bodies are too neat, too clean.”

  A terrible thought occurred to her. “Do you think he washed them?”

  “Maybe.”

  “And all our evidence went down the drain.” This was maddening.

  “Dammit. I was hoping to find some answers here. We’re right back where we started.”

  And then, Lucy noticed a stamp, one she was very familiar with.

  “Maybe not. We might not have answers, but I have another lead, something else the women had in common.” She lifted Betty’s hand, so Storm could see the smudge. It was a Celtic knot.

  “What?”

  “I know this mark. At least two of them went to a sex club in the area, Edge.” At the door, submissive were marked with the symbol.

  At least they’d found another connection.

  ***

  “You’re awfully quiet.”

  “I know.” Lucy took a drag from her cigarette and looked out the window, watching as the world sped by. They’d just finished up at the morgue and they were on their way over to Edge. The club didn’t close until three in the morning.

  One of the things she loved about driving, was a quick getaway. She could leave it all behind her in the dust. And yet Lucy felt trapped in this car. Or maybe being this close to Storm was stifling her.

  Storm frowned at her. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t smoke in the car.”

  Lucy turned her head to look him up and down, trying to figure it all out.

  Why did I fall for him in the first place?

  Storm wasn’t her usual type. She never should’ve given him a second glance. When she was younger, Lucy had loved bad boys. And as soon as the sex was over, she got gone. In college, she’d waded through quite a few guys, and never looked back.

  He was pretty much a knight in shining armor type. At least she’d thought so. Maybe a bad boy lurked underneath his good guy persona. Maybe that’s why I liked him? After all, he’d lied to her face for months. Their “chance meeting” at the mess hall on base, had been a setup.

  And I fell for it.

  “I’m going to convince you not to smoke anymore.”

  “Yeah? Good luck.” But she obligingly extinguished her cigarette on the heel of her boot before tossing the butt into his bottle of water.

  “I was drinking that.”

  “Not anymore.” Lucy snickered.

  “Sometimes you’re a real pain in the ass, Lucky.”

  For some damn reason, she laughed.

  He glanced at her. “Aren’t you gonna tell me not to use your nickname?”

  “Fair is fair. I’ve been using yours, after all. Where did you get the name, Storm, anyway?” Lucy asked, out of idle curiosity. “And don’t tell me it’s classified.”

  “Are we having a moment here?”

  “Consider it a temporary cease-fire.” Hating him took a lot of energy and she was just about spent.

  He grinned. “One night, in Iraq, a group of our guys got pinned down by the enemy. It was an ambush, following an IED. I’m sorry, but I can’t give you any more details.”

  Lucy rolled her eyes heavenward. “I knew you couldn’t tell your story without something being classified. Go on.”

  “Anyway, the drone in that area was too far away. By the time it would arrive on the scene, the SEALs would be dead. There was no other air support available either, because we had another op going, and they were providing overwatch.”

  “And…?”

  “The Iraqis had shitty telecommunications, and it wasn’t very hard to knock them out, and replace their signal, with my own.”

  Lucy knew he was trying to impress her. And it was working.

>   “So, you fooled them?”

  “Yeah, I created a convincing weather report on the fly, told them a sandstorm was on the way.”

  “What happened?”

  “They bugged out, and we got our guys home safe and sound. And the SEALs started calling me Stormy, and its stuck.” He beamed at her, eyes sparkly, expecting her praise.

  For some damn reason, Lucy found herself smiling at him.

  But she snapped herself out of it quick. Remember who he is and what he did to you.

  “Well, you always were a top-shelf liar.”

  ***

  It was a real live Den of Iniquity.

  According to Lucy, Edge was a club frequented by folks into bondage and other kinky types, and it hummed with sexual energy.

  Storm had never seen anything like it. Edge seemed the sort of place Nox would love. Then again, Nox was a pervy son of a bitch. Until he’d met Maeve, he’d dragged all kinds of girls back to HQ and did God only knows what to them.

  These days, he only got his Fifty Shades on with his lady friend.

  Edge was located in a nondescript building in the middle of town. He would’ve driven right past it if she hadn’t pointed it out.

  At the entrance of the club, was a leather-clad bouncer who stood with his tattooed arms crossed over his barrel chest.

  “Lucy,” the bouncer said with a small nod.

  Hold up. Lucy knows him?

  Storm gaped at her. “So, you’ve met him before?” Lucy had been less than forthcoming about her connection to Edge.

  She grinned, all cat that ate the canary. “Yeah, I’ve been here a time or two.”

  The bouncer glanced at Storm and dismissed him just as quickly. Apparently, he didn’t rate much respect.

  “We’re here to see Finn, Butch,” Lucy said.

  Butch smirked. “The boss came in a half an hour ago, but he’s occupied at the moment. I’ll tell him you’re here, and he’ll send for you. It won’t be long. You know he’s always happy to see you.” His tone was oily and full of innuendo.

  Storm wanted to punch him in the throat.