by Cynthia Eden
It didn’t matter. Samantha knew what the woman had been about to say. I would have known if he was a killer. “I didn’t know.”
Lydia trembled.
“I didn’t know that the man I’d given my trust to, the man I’d shared my bed with...I didn’t know he was a murderer.”
Lydia’s trembles grew worse.
“I didn’t know until he came for me.”
More tears slid down Lydia’s cheeks. “Patrick never hurt me.”
“Did he hurt anyone else?” She kept her voice as soft as possible. “Think about it, Lydia. Was there ever anyone who may have...” God, how to say this delicately? “Were there any unexplained fires during your time with Patrick?”
Lydia’s eyes squeezed closed and a low, keening sound emerged from her.
“I have to ask, I’m sorry. But Patrick Remus had a schedule, of sorts. He took a victim every six months. You said you were with him for over a year. I want you to think about that time. Think about it really hard. Was there ever a suspicious fire in the area where you lived? Ever anything that—”
A sob broke from Lydia.
Samantha wanted to reach out and comfort her. She wanted to pull her close and tell the other woman she wasn’t alone—
“My stepmom.” Lydia was rocking her body back and forth now, still cradling her belly. “There was a fire at her house. Thought it was just... God! God! She was always so mean to me. Never letting me see my dad, and I told Patrick, I told him...” She nearly choked as she said, “That I wished she was out of the way.” Her tears came harder.
“Did she die in the fire?” Samantha asked her.
Lydia nodded. “I didn’t mean it...when I told him... I was just mad... I didn’t mean it...”
And Samantha knew that Patrick had been up to his old tricks.
She rose.
“Will the baby be like him?” Lydia asked her.
Samantha’s heart seemed to freeze in her chest.
“I don’t... Will the baby be like him?” she asked again. “Is she gonna be...wrong?”
Samantha went to her then, and she wrapped her arms around Lydia. Samantha held the other woman as Lydia cried.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“YOU’RE THE...ONE who shot me...” Peter Carter rasped. He was strapped to the hospital bed, and an armed police officer was at his side. Machines beeped near him and his skin was almost as pale as the sheets.
“Guilty.” Macey gave him a cold smile. She stood to the right of his bed and a very watchful Bowen waited at the foot of the bed.
“Don’t got...nothin’ to say...” Peter began.
“Really?” Bowen drawled. “Because we’ve got plenty to say. We’d actually like to start by telling you that we know what you did to Susannah Kaiser.”
Peter flinched.
“She didn’t choose you, did she?” Bowen demanded. His tone dripped with disgust. “You were fucking insane for her, but she was walking away. She wanted the cop, not you.”
Peter swallowed. “D-don’t have to talk...to you...”
“I don’t think you quite understand what’s happening here, Peter.” Macey kept her voice as cold as her smile had been. “We’re not just looking at you for Susannah’s death. Right now, there are at least four other murders that we are investigating. Daniel Haddox. Patrick Remus. Curtis Zale. Henry Harwell—”
“Didn’t k-kill that cop!” Peter cast a frantic glance at the uniformed officer beside him, an officer that looked pissed. “Didn’t kill any of them—”
“But you did kill Susannah,” Macey pushed. “I mean, you confessed that already. Right before I shot you.”
He swallowed and eased out a ragged breath. “Ac-accident...”
Keeping her skull at your museum was no accident, you freak. “Why don’t you tell me about it?” Macey invited. “Tell us your side of the story before it’s too late.” It’s already too late. There is no going back from what you’ve done.
“Should have let me f-fucking die.”
Macey just stared at him.
“I was...working my shop. Just working.” His eyes squeezed shut. “Susannah came in there, told me we had to talk.” His eyes snapped open. “I knew she’d been screwing Henry. I knew but I thought it was over. That she’d come back to me.”
“She didn’t,” Bowen said.
Peter’s head moved in a no motion against the pillow. “She...said we were done. That she was going with him. That she wanted to...marry him.” Anger rattled in his voice. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! I don’t know what happened! I swear, I just—I was so mad. So fucking mad. The hammer was in my hand, and the next thing I knew...the next thing...”
Macey thought of the skull. “She was walking away from you, and you hit her in the back of the head.”
He licked his lips. “I think she was dead...even before she fell to the floor. I grabbed her, I told her I was sorry, over and over, but it was too late. Her blood was everywhere. I—Jesus, she was gone.” His breath panted out. “An accident. See? That’s...what it was.”
No, that wasn’t an accident. At best, he was describing manslaughter. A crime of passion. Gone so wrong. But he hadn’t stopped with killing her. “You took her skull.” Macey couldn’t get past that. Neither would a jury. “You kept it.”
His lashes lowered. “I couldn’t...let her go. The hate nail exhibit had just opened and I—I switched the skulls. I just wanted her close.”
No, she didn’t believe that. “You still wanted to punish her. That’s what the nails were for. Even in death, the hate you felt for her betrayal wasn’t easing. You kept the skull and you kept the nails in it because you enjoyed hurting her. Even. In. Death,” Macey said again.
The uniformed cop’s hand slid toward his weapon.
The machines beeped.
Peter cast her a quick glance from beneath his lashes. “I think I need my lawyer.”
She’d wondered just how long it would be before he lawyered up. “Four bodies. Four other crimes are being linked back to you.”
“Didn’t kill them,” he mumbled back. “Only Susannah, only—”
“Where is her body?” Bowen cut in.
Peter’s lips parted.
“You kept her head. But what about her body? Where did you put her body?”
Peter’s gaze shifted to Bowen. “We had this place in the mountains that we liked. Not too far from Rainbow Falls.”
Every muscle in Macey’s body locked down at the mention of Rainbow Falls. Not a coincidence, can’t be.
“There’s an old cabin up there,” Peter continued. “You just...you divert off the Rainbow Falls Trail and head over to Bullhead Trail.”
Macey’s gaze met Bowen’s. Oh, hell.
“Most folks don’t ever see that cabin because you have to go off the path in order to find it, but Susannah showed it to me. Said when she was younger, she and her brother would go up there all the time. It was their place... Their parents fought a lot, so they went up there to get away.”
Macey knew he was talking about the cabin that Curtis Zale had used with his victims. She knew it.
“I buried her there, because she liked the place so much.”
“Tell us exactly where,” Bowen snarled.
“There’s a...a yellow birch, about twenty feet from the front of the cabin. I—I put her under its branches. She always said that tree was so beautiful. That it was her favorite.”
This is all related. Everything. Susannah. The nails. The cabin. Curtis.
“Would you...um... Can you tell her brother I’m sorry?”
Macey turned to stare at Peter once more. “No one knows where Susannah’s brother is. We heard that he’d been gone from her life since he was seventeen.”
His eyes widened. “But he was in town, about two months ago. Wesley was looking for her. God,
I had to stand right there, with her skull right behind him, and tell the guy that I hadn’t seen her. One of the hardest fucking things I’ve ever done.”
Peter Carter was a serious piece of work. “Even harder than killing his sister?” Macey snapped, pushed to her limit.
A muscle jerked in Peter’s jaw. “You know... Wesley was always so smart.”
No, I don’t know. Because I haven’t found Wesley.
“Susannah bragged about him all the time. Said even when he was a kid, Wesley could do amazing things. That’s why she hated so much that he left when he was seventeen. She’d wanted him to be something, wanted him to use his skills to be—” Peter’s eyes widened. “It was him!”
“What?”
“Wesley! It was him! He’s the one who put all that shit on the computers at the museum! Susannah told me he was a fucking computer genius, but I didn’t even think about him. Shit! I just saw everything and I panicked and—” He tried to lunge up in the bed, but the restraints wouldn’t let him go far.
The uniformed cop tensed. “Easy.”
But Peter wasn’t being easy. He was thrashing against the restraints. “Son of a bitch! He knew! All along, he knew! And he’s fucking trying to frame me!” He twisted his body and Macey saw the blood begin to seep through his paper-thin hospital gown.
“You’re reopening your wounds,” she said quietly.
“It was him!” He struggled harder. A doctor and nurse rushed into the room. “When I find that prick, I’m gonna kill him!”
The nurse injected something into Peter’s IV line.
“Just like you killed his sister?” Bowen said.
Peter stilled. “I want my lawyer.”
“Yeah.” Bowen turned away. “Good luck with that shit. Probably should have asked for him before you made a full confession regarding Susannah’s death.” He headed for the door.
Macey moved to follow him.
“Agent Night!” Peter bellowed her name.
She looked back at him.
“That little prick...you find him! He... Shit, the last time I saw him, he’d dyed his blond hair black. He’d put on about twenty pounds, wasn’t so scrawny anymore, not like in those old pictures of Susannah’s. The guy even told me that he was in school, at college. Don’t remember which fucking one.”
No, because he’d been too busy trying to cover up the murder of the man’s sister. Once more, Macey turned away—
“Agent Night. Why didn’t you kill me?”
Her shoulders stiffened. Bowen had turned to stare at her. He was holding the door and his eyes were on her. “Because I’m an FBI agent,” Macey said without looking back at Peter Carter. “And death would have been too easy for you.”
He’d murdered a woman. He deserved a lifetime of punishment. She’d make sure he got it.
* * *
THEY DROVE HELL-FAST toward the helipad. The SUV slid into the twisting, snaking curves of the mountain roads. Macey was in the passenger seat, her hand gripping the phone at her ear. “Right, yes, Samantha, the guy said Susannah’s remains are at the Curtis Zale crime scene. No, no, I have no idea why Dr. Lang didn’t find them. I thought she was using her equipment on the entire area there. I tried to reach her on her phone, but didn’t connect.” There was a brief pause. “She’s supposed to be out at the crime scene today. That’s where we’re headed now. We’re going to find Susannah. Absolutely. I’ll call you again when I have more news.”
Bowen waited a beat. “Any updates on the brother’s location?”
“No, not yet. Samantha did confirm that a Wesley Kaiser had enrolled at the University of Tennessee, but that was a year ago. The school is going to fax over his student ID picture. But, apparently, he never showed up for his fall classes.”
“Because the poor bastard realized his sister was dead.” And he went looking for some vengeance?
“Samantha said he had a history of drug and alcohol abuse. I’m sure the fact that his sister vanished wouldn’t have sat well with him.”
“What about the fact that Dr. Lang didn’t find the body that should be at the scene?” Bowen demanded as his hands tightened around the steering wheel. Because that shit isn’t sitting well with me. He braked the vehicle and they jumped out.
“I don’t know,” Macey said. “I’m not sure how she missed that.”
We’re about to find out.
It would take far too long to hike to the cabin, and he’d secured transportation on the chopper. He and Macey slid inside and buckled up, and a few moments later, the pilot was lifting them into the air. They rose fast, and the ground seemed to shrink beneath them. The pilot had been ferrying law enforcement personnel back and forth to that particular crime scene, so he knew exactly where they were headed.
Bowen’s gaze slipped from the scene below him and rose to look at Macey’s profile. She was staring out the window, seeming to be a million miles away, even though if he just reached out his hand, he could touch her. Her words to Peter Carter kept ringing in his ears.
Death would have been too easy for you.
Macey was right. Sometimes, death was too easy.
Far too fucking easy.
The chopper skirted through the mountains. The trees were a bright sheen of colors. Those trees just stretched and stretched as far as the eye could see. A thousand places to hide. A million.
It was—
Macey’s hand curled around his.
Surprised, his hold jerked in her grasp. She stared straight at him now. “You.” She spoke into her microphone and he heard her perfectly in his headphones. “When this is done, know that I choose you.”
His heart lurched in his chest. He wanted to pull her into his arms. To hold her fucking tight, but he couldn’t move.
Not then.
Did Macey understand how much her words meant to him? He needed her to know. “You’ve always been the one I chose.” Always.
Her lips lifted in a faint smile.
The blades of the chopper carried them away.
* * *
AS SOON AS the chopper touched down, Bowen and Macey leaped out. The wind beat at Bowen’s back as he took Macey’s arm and made sure she was blocked by his body. He hurried forward and saw the small group of law enforcement and crime scene analyst workers still there. Most wore their white uniforms, with gloves on their hands, moving carefully to make sure they didn’t contaminate the scene.
The chopper began to rise again, leaving as fast as it had arrived. Bowen and Macey hurried to the back of the cabin.
“Be careful!” Dr. Lang was saying. “Absolutely careful! Those remains are fragile. We have to make sure everyone here understands that you can’t remove the bones too quickly.” She was leaning over a yawning grave as she talked to the man at her side. The guy was stooped on the ground, and a baseball cap covered his head.
“Dr. Lang,” Bowen called.
She glanced back.
“We need to talk.”
Her eyes had widened. “I didn’t realize you two would be at the scene today.” Her gaze skirted to Macey, then back to Bowen. “But, right, of course. Let’s talk.” She patted the shoulders of the man in the cap. “Carlisle, I’d like to introduce you to the FBI agents I mentioned before.”
The man in the cap glanced back. The fellow was younger than Bowen had first suspected. A dark beard covered his face.
“This is my assistant, Carlisle,” Dr. Lang said. “Carlisle, this is Agent Bowen Murphy and Agent Macey Night.”
Carlisle inclined his head toward them. He didn’t offer his hand, probably because the guy was wearing his gloves, and his gaze jumped between Bowen and Macey.
“Thanks for the work you’re doing here, Carlisle,” Macey said.
His shoulders jerked a bit. “I just... I want to help, you know?” His voice was a low rumble. “They had famil
ies. All of them. People who cared about them—people who wanted them back.” There was grief there, flickering in his gaze.
Dr. Lang squeezed his shoulder. “You are helping,” she assured her assistant. Then she exhaled and straightened her shoulders. “Keep supervising things here for me, would you? I’m going to talk with the agents for a moment.”
Carlisle nodded. He turned back toward the grave.
“Why don’t you walk this way with us, Dr. Lang?” Bowen invited as he motioned to the side of the cabin.
But as they started to pass around the side of the cabin, they nearly collided with Ranger Zack Douglas. The ranger staggered to a quick stop. “I was just coming to look for you, Dr. Lang.” But his gaze darted to Macey and Bowen. “I wanted to see if there was anything I could help with today.” Then he squared his shoulders. “The rangers have been helping to secure the scene. Not our normal type of work, but it seemed like an all-hands-on-deck situation, and these mountains? They are ours.”
But Bowen could see the guilt on the guy’s face. He still blamed himself.
“Give us just a moment, Ranger,” Macey murmured. “We really need to speak privately with Dr. Lang.”
“Oh, right. Sorry.” And then he was hurrying back toward the rear of the cabin.
Toward the graves.
Bowen led them about twenty feet away. He stopped when he was beneath the colorful branches of a yellow birch tree. “How many bodies have you found?”
Dr. Lang frowned. “So far...just thirteen. I’ve been checking the area all around the cabin, spanning out more and more as a precaution—”
“Have you checked here?” Bowen asked her. “And I mean, specifically...right here? Beneath us?”
She blinked and looked down at the ground. “Um, yes. My assistant reviewed this entire area. It’s clear.”
Macey and Bowen shared a hard look.
Then Macey cleared her throat. “We’d like for you to review it again.”
Dr. Lang seemed hesitant but she nodded. “All right. If that’s what you want, but it will take a little time.”
And it did.
But by the time Dr. Lang had finished using her equipment, they’d found another body. A body that was exactly where Peter Carter had said it would be.