MasterMind_An Anna Monroe and Never Far crossover

by A. A. Dark

  Ringing had me groaning and heading to the counter for my phone. Florida. My lips parted in surprise, almost not believing what I was seeing. I only knew one person from Florida, and I had given him my card earlier today.

  “Hello?”

  “I-Is this Anna Monroe?”

  “Is this Boston Marks?”

  Hesitation. “Yes. I’m sorry to call you so late, but I didn’t know who else to talk to. I can’t be here. I can’t be in this room. This isn’t where Lucy knows I’m staying. My mind keeps telling me she’s going to go back to the hotel in Chicago. I have the urge to leave, but I can’t be so far away from the gardens. I fucking can’t. I hope she’ll just knock on the door and say she was lost.” A small groan. “But she’s not going to because she doesn’t know I’m staying a block away from where she was taken. And she was taken, just like I feared. They say they have evidence. That…Jesus. You wanted to help me. You suspected something. You know something. Please.”

  My fingers pressed against my mouth. For my job as a reporter, this was gold. For the monster within, it was more.

  “You need to calm down. Everything’s going to be okay. Where are you staying? May I come over?”

  “Seriously? Would you? I know it’s late. I just…please. I’m not good.”

  “I understand,” I said cautiously. “Do me a favor. Let me get dressed, and text me your information. I don’t live far. Give me ten minutes or so.”

  “Thank you, Anna. You don’t know how much this means to me. See you soon.”

  The line disconnected, and my eyes found their way back to the blonde girl on my board—to Lucy. In the picture, she wore such a big smile. She appeared happy, if not a little shy or embarrassed at the camera on her. Was she okay right now? Was she already dead? Or were the horrors only just beginning?

  The flashes of my past came flooding back in a tidal wave of crimson and cravings. The blood. The torture I’d undergone and been forced to commit.

  I lifted my hand, taking in my missing ring finger. No One, the name my abductor went by, had wanted to send Braden a message. And he had by giving him the one finger that symbolized a place in our lives we were so close to getting to: marriage. That was over now. He’d succeeded in tearing us apart. Or maybe I was the one who did that by pushing Braden away.

  My other fingers drew in, and I turned, sliding on my running shoes. I was dressed in workout clothes. Where I should have been relaxing after the hours of weights and running, I was ready to go again. I found myself so caught up in the questions constantly plaguing my mind, I couldn’t sit still. In the deepest recesses inside me, I knew those girls were going through hell. Right now. Every second of every day he had them.

  Vivid pictures tried to break through—me, pregnant, and tied to the bed. Being beaten and raped. My baby moved within me as I continued to pray for a miracle that never came.

  That deep tone began to sound from my memories, and I quickly gave my head a hard shake, snatching my keys just as my phone alerted to a text. I couldn’t think about that time. Never again. I had plenty to focus on. The girls needed me. And Davis Knight. I hadn’t forgotten about No One’s “almost” stepbrother. He had known that killer had me, and still, he helped keep it a secret. Davis’s time was coming. When it did, he’d be the one praying. Not me.

  I grabbed my purse, unzipping the top to gaze at the gun inside. When I had the front door locked, I headed for my car. Even though it was dark, my eyes scanned every shadow the street light didn’t touch. My hand stayed at the lower strap of my purse, waiting, always ready.

  The neighborhood was silent for it being a little after ten. I found myself turning toward the end of the road where Braden’s apartments were. Was he home? Working? It didn’t matter. Seeing him, hearing him call me his beloved and confess he missed me, intensified the pain.

  Swinging the car door open, I climbed in and started the car. The anger lingered, giving me flashes of red. Red lipstick, a red dress. The dark stains of blood covering my body as I bathed in my victims’ blood. The door No One opened by making me kill those girls didn’t want to close. And maybe I didn’t want it to. I was desperate to find the person responsible for this new string of disappearances. My fix was calling. And the answer could lie with the newest victim’s boyfriend, Boston Marks.

  Pulling the address up on my phone, I began to reverse out of my driveway. Beams of light grew from farther down the road, and I paused, waiting for the car to pass. For the smallest moment, I thought maybe it was Braden, but I was wrong…and disappointed.

  The ache remained in my chest as I made the short drive toward the garden area. Boston was staying in one of the nicest hotels Rockford had to offer. Given the pictures on his social media page, I wasn’t surprised. The beach cottage, his parents’ elaborate home, the cars…I knew he came from money. That led me to research deeper. His father, Gilbert Marks, owed businesses all over the Northeast and overseas. It was surprising, but not anything I could use. The other two girls didn’t come from wealthy families.

  Ring.

  Ring.

  I parked, grabbing my purse and phone as I got out of the car.

  Braden.

  My feet nearly stumbled. The way my heart swelled, I wasn’t sure whether it was a good or bad thing.

  “Kind of late for a call.”

  “Obviously not. You’re not at home.”

  A smile came as I hit the keypad to lock my car. “Are you stalking me, Detective? You know there’re laws against that.”

  “I was headed home and your car’s not there.” A pause. “Anna…you’re okay, right?”

  The sliding main doors to the hotel opened, and I headed toward the elevators. The lobby was empty aside from a front desk clerk and older gentleman in a suit. I joined him, waiting in front of the elevator.

  “I’m fine. What about you? You don’t sound okay. If you want me to be honest, I’d say there’s slight anxiety in your tone.”

  “It’s been a long day. About to be longer unless you tell me where you are.”

  Ding.

  I joined the man, hitting the number seven.

  “No need to track me down. I’m perfectly safe. You can sleep soundly.”

  “Yeah. Right. Where are you, Anna?”

  I bit against the insides of my cheeks as a lie came. “Just visiting a friend from church.”

  “At ten at night?”

  “Do you assume all Christians turn in when the sun goes down? I’m offended.”

  The man in the suit glanced over, but I turned away, not caring what he thought.

  “You were never a good liar. Not to me.” A sigh broke over the phone, and the sound of his engine accelerated. “If you’re in an elevator, which we both know you are, you’re at a hotel. There are only so many. Are you going to tell me, or are we going to continue playing this game?”

  “No game. We’re not together anymore. Go home, Braden.”

  I hung up just as the doors opened to Boston’s floor. Four doors down, the barrier swung open before I could take two steps.

  “Anna. Thank God. Please, come in.”

  The energy emitting from Boston had me wondering if I made the wrong decision. My feet wouldn’t move while I investigated hazel eyes. They were wild, scanning behind me as he searched the empty hall. One-by-one, he glanced at each door, almost appearing to expect someone to open them. The darkness in me flared protectively. I forced myself forward, trying to calm as he closed us inside the room.

  “I really am sorry to call so late. It’s just…my mom doesn’t fly out until the morning and I can’t get ahold of my doctor. I didn’t have anyone else.”

  “It’s no problem. I want Lucy found too. I’ll do anything I can to help.”

  Two beds came into view as I walked deeper into the room. There was table, a desk, and a large chair filling up the right side. He nodded and gestured to the sofa next to a wall length window. I took a seat, placing my purse in my lap.

  “I’ve been wrack
ing my brain trying to remember the smallest details. Nothing. Nothing stood out. No one caught my attention or looked suspicious. The only thing I can’t get over is the phone call. It’s the only thing that wasn’t right.”

  “Phone call?”

  Boston paused. “I don’t think I’m supposed to tell anyone this stuff. I can’t remember whether they said I could or not. Everything is a blur. I can’t think. Anyway, if it helps Lucy be found, I don’t care. The phone call,” he said, pacing, “we had only been there a few minutes when I was paged over the intercom. Lucy went with me. I took the phone call and I said hello. They repeated my greeting—hello. I think it was after the third time I said it, I turned to check on Lucy. She was still there, waiting on me. They said hello again, but it started getting staticky. I was trying to figure out who it was and began to get angry. I swear, I hadn’t turned away from her a minute or two before I looked back, and she was gone. Just…gone.”

  All I could do was nod as my brain began picturing the scene.

  “No one knew we would have been there at that exact time, Anna. No one. We flew in from Florida not even a day before. I don’t understand.”

  “Someone knew,” I breathed out. “Maybe you don’t even know them, but they know you. Maybe from a bank card, or…” I trailed off, squinting through my thoughts.

  “We didn’t use it in Rockford. When we did, it was for breakfast before we left Chicago. You think someone could have followed us from the city?”

  “Possibly. I don’t know. What I think we need to do is pull up everywhere you used your card from the moment you got off the plane. Maybe the locations will trigger something: a person who stood out that maybe you didn’t pay close attention to at the time. We have to start somewhere, and this will give you something to do to take the heavier things off your mind.”

  “That’s a good idea.” Boston reached over, grabbing a laptop from the desk, but I only saw one thing. My heart slammed against my chest and I eased to my feet before I could stop myself.

  “What’s that?”

  Boston glanced back at the desk, tears clouding his eyes.

  “I was supposed to propose tonight. I had an elaborate dinner scheduled for seven. I’ve been planning it for months. Hell, maybe even longer than that. I’ve known Lucy since we were kids.”

  The laptop was placed on the chair as he picked up the ring, bringing it over. The large diamond had my lips parting. It was almost impossible for me to meet his eyes.

  “I’m so sorry. I truly am. I hope we find her soon and the two of you can put this behind you for good. I—” My mouth clamped closed as his head cocked. He reached for my left hand, and my fingers immediately drew into my palm.

  “Anna? Please.”

  Sickness swamped me. Slowly, I straightened my digits, letting him lift my hand higher as my spine straightened. For what felt like an eternity, he stared into my stoic face, not speaking, not looking away.

  “I remember something. A memory.” He eased his hand back from mine.

  “A memory?”

  “I’ve had amnesia. Axe,” he said, pointing to the scar along his head. “I thought I’d regained most of my past, but I just recalled something. You. You were on the news. You…Anna Monroe,” he repeated. “It’s right there. God, what was it?”

  My arms crossed over my chest, a subconscious move to protect myself. Sharing my past wasn’t easy, but there was no use hiding the truth. If I didn’t tell him, he’d eventually find out on his own. “The Rock River Killer. I was his last victim. Last,” I emphasized. “He returned after I got free of him once. I killed him, but it didn’t matter. The damage he caused didn’t make up for it. He took my finger, my unborn child, and my life.”

  Boston’s eyes rose to mine. Something flickered over his face, but it was so fast, I couldn’t read the emotion.

  “Yes. I remember now.”

  “You knew my finger was missing when you brought it up. How did you know that? I don’t think they shared that information on the news.”

  “I don’t know. I used to make films. Horror movies. I know almost everything there is about serial killers…that sort of thing,” he rushed out.

  I shifted uncomfortably, sitting back on the sofa. “Let’s get back to Lucy.”

  There was hesitation as he studied me, but he returned the ring and sat down, bringing the laptop up. Stolen glances cut up to me, and I knew our conversation wasn’t over.

  “There’s something familiar about you. Not from the news. It’s your appearance. The shape of your face. I noticed it the first time I saw you, but I can’t place it.”

  “Don’t try. Trust me. You’re better off letting this go.”

  More silence. It reigned as he clicked through the pages on his screen.

  “I’m sorry about what happened to you. You seem like a good person.”

  “I try to be.”

  “Was there a reason for the significance of the finger?”

  “Boston, I really don’t want to talk about this. I’m trying to help you.”

  “And I thank you for that. But do you have anyone to help you?”

  It was my turn to be quiet. I looked down, letting the question sink in. My mouth was opening before I could stop myself. There was something about this stranger that left me feeling more comfortable than I should have, which made absolutely zero sense. I could feel something different about him. Different from the man who first opened his hotel room door. I just couldn’t place it.

  “The detective working your case, Detective Casey. Braden and I, we were together. No One, the man who took me, knew that. He sent my ring finger as a gift to the man I was supposed to marry. Along with a video of me tortured and unconscious. He told Braden I was dead, and for a while, everyone believed him.”

  “Jesus. And it was the Detective’s child you were carrying?”

  “Yes.”

  Boston’s jaw flexed repeatedly. “I’m so sorry. I am. I’m glad you killed him.”

  “Me too. I’m afraid Braden wasn’t as enthusiastic.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I wiped back the free strands of hair from my face, weighing my answer. Knowing the truth, regardless of the lie coming. “He’s a man of the law.”

  “But it was self-defense, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes. You don’t want to know the details, though. Trust me.”

  Knock-knock.

  We both turned toward the door, and I smiled. “Speaking of the devil. If you don’t mind, I’ll get that.”

  I was standing before Boston could reply. The moment I opened the door, one of Braden’s eyebrows rose. It wasn’t inquisitive, but more laced with anger or jealousy.

  “Well, what do you know? First hotel I check and I’m right. Anna Monroe on the case.” He strolled past. “What were you thinking coming here?”

  “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

  “Shouldn’t you?”

  “I wasn’t tired.”

  “This.” He shook his head, glancing across the room, only to return to me. “I told you this is an investigation. You cannot be here. Not with him.”

  “I called her.” Boston laid the laptop down, standing. “I want her here. She’s helping me.”

  “I’m helping you. She’s a news reporter.”

  “Boston needs my help, and I’m staying. Nothing we uncover will be made public. It stays between me and him. You have my word.”

  Braden’s lips parted in disbelief. “What exactly do you think you can do or uncover that I can’t? I’m the detective.”

  Before either of us could answer, Braden’s eyes zeroed in on the computer. He walked forward, bending down to look at the screen.

  “What’s this?”

  “Anna thought whoever called to distract me might have gotten my name from my bank card. She was hoping if we looked where I had been since Lucy and I arrived, it might trigger something suspicious.”

  Braden’s eyes cut over to me. “Is that right?”

  �
��It’s worth a shot. Not bad, huh?”

  “No. Not bad. But you alone in a hotel room with a man who just lost his girlfriend is.” His anger heightened with suspicion as he stared between the two of us. Something else came…a brief pause of clarity as the tightness in his features began to twist into pain. “You couldn’t come to me? You couldn’t ask to work on this with me?”

  “Braden…”

  The anger returned as he rolled his eyes. “Of course you couldn’t. It’s not like I could do anything to help you anyway. Forget it. That,” he said, pointing back at the computer, “good job. Predator versus predator. I guess criminal minds do think alike.”

  Chapter 4

  M

  Caning. Where most thought of it as purely a form of punishment for sexual play, little understood the significant torture the act could truly bring. From the material, down to the size, each fraction of difference brought a diverse strike capacity, inducing variable pain for the individual. Bamboo, rattan, aluminum. The rods came in different lengths and diameter, enhancing exactly what sort of pain you were looking to inflict. Even the handles could come into play when one decided to use them.

  I tended to enjoy using the smaller width. The sting was intense and provided more of a bite. With the fiberglass rod, it was easy to break the skin without applying too much force. Lucy was learning all too quickly what she should and should not do.

  Rope bound her wrists and feet. Both set of limbs were spread, fastened sideways over an antique Victorian parlor chair. The bright red fabric stood out against her skin, enhancing the dark bruising and blood smeared across her bare ass. Twice, she’d knocked the damn thing over, tumbling down backwards with it.

  Smile. Yes. I might have had one while watching her try to break free, but only for a moment. I quickly righted her, making her scream with the cane even more than the previous times.

  “Your eyes are rolling under those swollen lids of yours. Are you getting tired, little one?”

  “I…I want…to go back…to B-Boston.”

  The sobs were soul deep. The sort that tore from the insides to reveal just how emotionally traumatized a person was. Lucy was distressed all right. She was in shock, and not just terrifyingly confused, but in physical shock. Her pupils almost covered the green of her eyes, and her breaths were faster than I thought they’d be after hours of light torture.