Bound By Shadows (The McAllister Justice Series Book 2)

by Reily Garrett

  “And then you taught me the easiest way to break someone’s nose. It came in handy, though I used my foot instead.”

  “Hey, use whatever you’ve got, remember?”

  “May have saved my life. The creep said he’d peel my skin off.” She shuddered violently.

  Minutes passed as she took slow deep breaths and her body calmed. He waited until she stepped back, steady on her feet, before guiding her forward.

  “C’mon. Let’s get you settled and to the hospital.” Surely, they’d keep her overnight with the remnants of drugs in her system and obvious head trauma. A considerable amount of blood coated her scalp and hair.

  Though he tried to keep her talking for the short drive, Kaylee withdrew into her own world, filled with pain, terror, and thugs raping women. He’d had little experience in dealing with the aftermath of a friend’s trauma.

  “You were taking pictures? Do you work for a magazine or a newspaper?”

  “Freelance. I was sitting in an outdoor café. Can’t remember the name, but I can find it again.”

  “Had you spoken to anyone, perhaps told someone you’ve just returned to town?” As disturbing as the thought was, he had to concede the possibility of new crimps starting a sex-slave trade. It wouldn’t be the first time the tunnels had been used for such a despicable purpose. He might have a better direction to investigate once they identified the other victim and any common denominators.

  “Um, yeah, several people, though I’m usually a decent judge of character. I sure as hell didn’t see this coming.” Anger, determination, and strength of will infused her voice. “I’m gonna put that bastard’s face on the front of every newspaper and social media page in the state.”

  “Yep, I expect you will.” The question is—how do we keep you safe while you’re doing it?

  “They’re gonna be looking for me.” Her thoughts were already forging ahead. “I’ll have to find them first.”

  So, you’ll be wary. Not a temporary state, based on personal experience. Fisted hands and bared teeth gave her a look of gritty tenacity she’d need in the coming months. “Yes, but you won’t be alone. I’ll help.”

  “I can sketch the son of a bitch while waiting in the ER if you can get me pencil and paper.”

  “I can do you one better if one of my brothers can pick up my laptop.”

  “Composite sketching software?”

  “Yep. State of the art.” He figured her aggressive mental stance a natural reaction and may have helped her through her brother’s death. Her depth of conviction and grit surpassed anyone he’d known.

  “You said you’re a private investigator now.”

  “Yeah, comes in handy. I was on the job four years before I decided to go private.”

  “Rebel? Just like old times.”

  “Let’s just say there are times when laws don’t protect people the way they should, and I have a bit of a temper.”

  “Uh-huh. Okay. So, what’s the game plan?”

  “First, we get you cleared by the doctors.”

  It was rare to meet someone so resilient and with such backbone. A half hour ago, she’d been crying; now she wanted revenge, yet the human body couldn’t sustain an energy surge over an extended period. He needed to obtain any details her subconscious mind brought to the surface while they were still fresh.

  Matt had called ahead to advise the ER of their coming. Upon arrival, they were greeted at the emergency entrance and a nurse led Kaylee to a stretcher in one of the trauma rooms. With experience in triaging various crises, professionals approached calmly and asked questions in soothing tones while taking vital signs and notes. She’d asked him to stay, not realizing he would never leave his childhood friend in the hands of strangers and at such odds.

  Two nurses had collected fingernail scrapings and samples of dried blood from her hands, careful to explain their intentions before approaching. Kaylee understood the basics of the proceedings, explaining her father was a cop. After the brisk efficiency of required tests gave way to the quiet murmurs and assurances of impending results, he sat beside her stretcher in contemplative silence, waiting for her to continue processing the chaotic flurry of events. Baggy sweats, given by a group helping assault victims, soon replaced the tattered clothes bagged for evidence.

  When his older brother dropped off his laptop, they shared information. Billy worked in the criminal division of PPD and was combing through records and recent reports for missing women.

  Time warps and modifies all within its domain. Ten years ago, he’d come to appreciate the cute kid bearing her first crush who struck out with sarcasm to cover her feelings. If not for her brother revealing the truth, he might’ve thought himself a monster in her eyes with the way she’d gone the extra mile to taunt him.

  With time, belligerence had given way to a begrudging truce, then eventually, friendship. When her father had retired from the military, he pulled stakes and hauled his pre-teens cross-country to become a cop.

  When the initial flurry of activity subsided, and they waited to see the doctor again, Kaylee’s insistence on a proactive stance exchanged a victim’s mantle and frame of mind for anger and an invisible coat of armor. The transformation entailed a combination of avenging angel and warrior woman.

  Unfortunately, he didn’t think her thin shield would bear up under a slight breeze.

  “Well, boot up the computer and let’s get started. I’m familiar with photo editing software, so this should be easy enough to pick up.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Only too happy to oblige, Caden tentatively took a seat beside her on the stretcher.

  “It’s okay. I don’t bite.”

  Liking her grit, he added with a wink. “And I remember you having a good right hook.”

  It was her first tentative smile, warm if a bit shaky and shy. He liked it. A lot. Now that her face was clean, he liked that, too. Residual mats of blood caked in her hair reminded him to proceed slowly.

  “You know, don’t you?” Kaylee’s question was more of a statement.

  “What?”

  “What it’s like to be a victim of something.”

  “What makes you say that?” Too late, he remembered her uncanny ability to delve underneath his even façade.

  “Good judge of character, remember?”

  “Yeah, I ran into a bit of a fuzzy situation recently. It taught me a new meaning of how some people apply the phrase friends close, enemies closer.”

  “What happened?”

  “Someone I’d called friend turned out to be a serial killer. He wanted to teach me a twisted lesson.”

  “No shit. Guess I got off easy.”

  Narrowed eyes and a head tilt lasered her attention on his face before accepting his laptop.

  She wants to ask more.

  After explaining the different aspects of the facial sketching program and how to manipulate the images, he watched as her kidnapper’s face took rough shape on the screen, one feature at a time. Her assimilation of the new medium in rendering a two-dimensional image from memory evolved with a frown and her lips nibbled between even, white teeth. Her fingers shook slightly when tracing the line of his jaw before clenching in a fist. Resilient, yes. Determined, absolutely. Yet she had neither the resources nor strength to confront the monster.

  Doesn’t look like that’s going to stop her.

  “I think this is the best I can do.”

  “I don’t recognize him, but I’ll shoot this over to Matt.”

  “I remember two other voices. One was barely above a whisper, but they were arguing over something. I couldn’t determine the what. I’m pretty sure one was female.”

  With little to offer in the way of encouragement, he didn’t want her dwelling on something beyond her control. Obsession taking root would forge an iron mask and permit sight in only one direction, a tsunami to wash away all other thought and aspirations. Once the threat was neutralized, an empty husk would remain. Again, he culled the reasoning from personal experie
nce and didn’t want her following in his footsteps.

  “Do you own a firearm?” He’d known her as a girl who wouldn’t take any crap. Now, she’d be considering her options. Her expression disclosed more conviction than her words.

  “Yes.”

  “Got a CHL to carry?” His question provoked a stronger response with thinning lips and a near-silent snarl as her gaze slid away.

  “No.” Belligerent, bold, and loaded with animosity. “My father’s a cop. I’m safe with a gun. I’m also a good shot.”

  “Yeah, and your father is trained and licensed to carry.”

  “I’m not giving up my gun.”

  “I’m not asking you to. It’s just that killing your kidnapper is a short-term patch, not a long-term fix.”

  “How would you know?” Her gaze sharpened to excise the truth from the darkest reaches of his heart.

  “Been there, done that.”

  “The fuzzy situation?”

  “Yeah. It came down to him or me. He was a serial killer, psychosis at its best.”

  “So—you regret his death?”

  “Oh, hell no. Never. It’s just that it didn’t fix anything. You still have to deal with the crap in your head.”

  “Damn.” Kaylee twisted her lips in a grimace. The need to discern details was written in her gaze, tempered by respect for his privacy. When the silence lingered for another minute, she continued. “I saw three crates where they kept us yet only one other woman. The bastards were arguing. I wish I could’ve heard their voices better.”

  “Forensics will sweep the entire area once we find it. If there was another woman down there, we’ll find her. As for the voices, you said one mentioned money, which could mean either ransom or sale.”

  “Everything’s kind of a blur.”

  “Give it time. They gave you some kind of roofie, so the aftereffects can take up to forty-eight hours to wear off. The trauma alone means nothing will make sense for a while.”

  “Known from past experience?”

  “Kinda. I was poisoned.” It struck him in that instant, their silent comradery equaled an unspoken bond, a connection formed from similar realities of terror. Friendship with a woman had never made it to his know-how list, but the challenge invigorated and breathed new life in his future.

  “That’s why everyone’s giving you these looks. You’ve spent a good bit of time here and have gotten to know the nurses.”

  “What?”

  “Well, my nurse looks like she wants to examine you. The one at the desk has visually undressed you—repeatedly. Back in your senior year of high school, you became known as the muff rider.”

  “Hmm, that was a long time ago. It’s just the chemicals in your system.” Caden hadn’t missed the lingering looks or the interest in the women’s gazes. He’d had intimate knowledge of more than one. He just no longer returned the interest.

  “Soon as I’m clear, I want to find the other woman. I’m not sitting on my ass while she’s out there.”

  “Didn’t expect you would. But it’s not a time to be alone either. The bastards will undoubtedly be searching for you. I’ll stick with you until you’re thinking clearly.” And for a while afterward, to make sure you’re safe.

  “Jesus, I wonder where she is. Let me take a crack at drawing her composite. If I can get close enough, we’ll have a starting point.”

  Opening up the program again, Kaylee considered the initial facial shapes and selected one, then rejected it in favor of a slimmer one. With the adeptness of youth comfortable in the digital world, she began plugging in features. Her fingers proved less clumsy and her gaze clearer with time’s passage and the IV rehydrating her thin form.

  “Do you have anyone to stay with tonight? A friend in the city, perhaps?”

  “No. I’ve only been here a few days. I arrived cold turkey, so to speak, without contacting any old friends. I don’t even know who’s still around.”

  “They took your wallet.”

  “Yes, but they won’t know where I live.” A slight tightening of her shoulders accompanied the thinness of her voice.

  “You can stay at my place for a few days if you like. Your virtue will remain intact, I promise.”

  A guppy confronted by a school of piranhas displayed less shock. Either Kaylee remembered his reputation, or her intuitive nature zeroed in on the nurses’ lingering gazes and knowing smiles.

  “Um, thanks anyway, but I’ll be fine.”

  “Stubborn. The doc has already warned you about a probable concussion and wanted you to take it easy for the next twenty-four hours. They’re going to either want you to stay overnight or have a friend stay with you. Tomorrow, I’ll help you call your bank, credit card companies, and all that.”

  “I’m not staying here tonight. I’ll sign myself out AMA.”

  “You sure you’re ready to go?” As much as he didn’t want to shake her flagging self-confidence, being alone wasn’t smart either. What if the thugs were watching the hospital for her to show up? It’s not like I haven’t done a stakeout before.

  Caden watched as her attention returned to the task at hand. Fragments and lines came together to form a refined face of elegance. Quick, short movements defined high cheekbones and molded the “stock” jaw to a slim and fine-boned beauty.

  Oh, God. When Kaylee had first described the other victim, it never occurred that it would be someone he knew. Now, as the face came to life before him, a sour wad rose in his throat. Blood drained from his face.

  “Kaylee, I’m gonna step out for a sec to make a call, okay? I’ll be right outside the door, so nobody other than medical professionals can enter.” He knew the woman’s identity and had known her as intimately as any man could.

  “Who is she?” Kaylee’s voice rose in volume and pitch, a type of panic understood by any prey.

  “She’s a blue blood, not a runaway. Darling of the city type. Someone who should’ve been missed right away.”

  Cool air brushed his brow when he stepped out, the door’s quiet snick reminiscent of how he’d abandoned an ex-girlfriend expected to become his wife. It took three tries to hit the correct buttons to ring Matt. Explaining the situation wouldn’t be as easy.

  “Hey, the missing woman is Ciera Kirpatzel.”

  “Jesus, man. Her husband warned you to stay away from her.”

  “Hey, she wasn’t married at the time. He was just an abusive ex-boyfriend.”

  “That’s one of the things you find out before you take a woman to bed.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Shit. Where are you?”

  “At the ice cream shop. I’m waiting for Lucas to bring my gear so we can head into the woods. How’s your girl.”

  “She’s fine. Just waiting for labs and X-ray results. She refuses to stay the night.”

  “Oh, so you met your match in the obstinance department? Good. Keep an eye on her.”

  “Cute. I will. Listen, she’s already said she wants to see the underground room where she was held. We’ll be heading that way in a bit.”

  “You want to immediately bring a victim back to the scene of her attack? Are you fucking nuts?”

  “Hey, if I don’t, she’ll just come on her own, and she owns a gun. It’s not like I can disable it and leave her defenseless.”

  “Shit, shit, shit. Why does she have a gun?”

  “Her dad joined the force after moving across country.”

  “Of course he’s on the job. All right. I’ll send you our location and findings once we finish tracking. Just buy us some time, okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Look, I don’t remember much about her. She was closer to you in age. Stick tight until we catch these bastards. They’ll either want her back or try to shut her up.”

  “Like I hadn’t already planned on it?”

  The connection went dead in Matt’s usual abrupt manner to leave Caden in the déjà vu nightmare of protecting a friend. Two months ago, he’d not only failed but almost died in the process. The disfi
gurement marring his hands and arms didn’t compare to the mangled remains of his self-confidence. His supportive family reinforced the fact that all men must confront their own mortality and reconcile their perceptions accordingly.

  He wondered if Reese’s death equaled Kaylee’s reckoning.

  He’d promised to stay by her side and always kept his word, which meant an excursion through the tunnels. Fear of the dark or any two-legged critters wasn’t an issue. Facing the smaller demons would force a confrontation with a twisted horror he wasn’t sure he could contemplate, much less endure. He needed more time to adjust. Rubbing a hand over his eyes didn’t negate the terrifying images flitting through his thoughts. An injection of poison. Enraged rats with microchips, trained to attack and kill.

  When Caden stepped back into the room, Kaylee’s tight grimace signaled a temporary fortification of reserves. Experience dictated her fiendish specters would return when least expected.

  She stared at the composite drawing as if making a silent promise, a look he remembered seeing on Lexi’s face. It was only luck and his friend’s persistence that he survived his ordeal.

  “Kaylee, I’ve met a lot of people, few as determined as you.” Her steadfast resolve was admirable, but was it wise to jump back on the horse before dusting off? Everyone dealt with grief and extreme situations in their own way and time. Initially, he deemed her determination to move forward far better than relegating the nightmare to a dark corner of her mind and never challenging its fragments, thereby delaying recovery. He hadn’t seen her in ten years and had only the traumatic events spanning recent hours to gauge her strength and reserves.

  “My dad always said the sooner you face your fear, the sooner you can move on with your life. I chose this place for my fresh start. No dirtball is going to take it away.”

  Fresh start after Reese’s death.

  The compulsion to protect demanded he know more, yet the freshness of her trauma and the fragility she’d demonstrated at the station silenced his questions.

  Their quiet reflection ceased when the ER doctor, a portly gentleman known to all the McAllisters professionally and personally, strode in and settled a hand on her shoulder. Caden understood his expression and the words to come.