by A. A. Dark
Diego slapped against one of the officer’s shoulders as he passed, heading to meet me as I entered back into the alleyway.
“Look up and tell me what you see.”
My eyes rose, scanning the tops of the buildings. I was about to say nothing, until my next step brought me just past a fire escape.
“Camera.”
“Yes. It’s to the owner’s apartment upstairs from his shop. Supposedly, his place got broken into twice from that window right there a few months ago. He put up a camera just in case. He’s getting dressed now.”
“Excellent. You think there’s a chance it was recording when the body got dumped?”
Diego shrugged, losing some of his spark. “I don’t know. It was months ago, and if all he wanted to do was scare off any amateurs, the camera might have done the trick.”
“That’s my fear. Anything else?”
“No witnesses so far. No one saw anything. There are the traffic cams. They may lead somewhere.”
“Let’s hope.”
I took another drink of the coffee, continuing to take in the surroundings for anything we may have missed. No note. No weapon. No witnesses. Just a body with a statement that made up for all three. Her missing eyes. What did that say or mean? Maybe this wasn’t a serial killer. Maybe it spoke of her seeing something she shouldn’t have. Maybe she was a witness to a crime. Or perhaps it was more intimate and she had her sights on someone she shouldn’t have. The possibilities were endless. If I knew anything, I knew I’d get to the bottom of it.
****
“Wait, wait. Go back.”
I leaned over Diego’s shoulder, pointing toward the man in black as he dumped the girl’s body from over his shoulder. He was wearing black pants, a black sweatshirt, and a ski mask. The quality of the camera wasn’t very good, but it didn’t stop the small speck of light that reflected. We’d been going over the footage for what I was sure was hours. So far, nothing. Nothing, but this.
“Right there. Watch when he turns. Something falls out of his sweatshirt. A necklace or something.”
The man turned, and my finger thrust toward the screen. “Freeze it and zoom in.”
“Already on it.”
Diego worked the mouse, enlarging the picture to center around the necklace.
“What is that?” he mumbled, getting closer.
“A cross? A…letter?” Squinting didn’t help. I put my hand on my hip, shaking my head as I straightened. “My best guess is a cross, but I can’t be sure. It’s small. Too small. Start it over. Let’s watch again.”
I pulled out my phone, hitting the number to the other lead detective working the case.
“I was just about to call you, Casey. Y’all got anything?”
My head shook at Detective Wade’s question, even though he couldn’t see me. “Maybe, but I wouldn’t bank anything. Looks like he’s wearing a necklace. A cross or some sort of symbol or letter. It falls out of his sweatshirt when he puts the girl down. What do you have?”
“We’re at the store across the alley from you. A truck. Light colored. It stops, and he gets her out of the bed. Plates are covered. Nothing distinguishing about it. The model is common. Could be a work vehicle, might be personal.”
“Shit.” My lips pressed together as Diego began replaying the video. “Call me if you pick up anything else. We’re about to wrap up and head back to the station.”
“Sounds good. We got this. Y’all go home and catch some sleep.”
“Will do.”
I hung up, only to yawn. It was as if his words had my exhausted body ready to shut down. I grabbed the coffee, downing the rest of the cold liquid.
“Nothing else. I’ll make a copy and we can analyze it later. I can barely concentrate on what the hell I’m seeing. I knew I should have passed on DJ’s party.”
A laugh left me before I could stop myself. Diego threw me a glare as he continued pressing buttons.
“Big night?”
“Don’t, Casey.”
“I just figured you learned from last year. You were sick for three days because of the drinking challenge. Officer Reilly’s parties aren’t something you attend if you plan to work the following week.”
A humph followed, but he remained silent as he finished up. When he stood and we began walking out, his tone dropped.
“Pretty girls. They’re worth the hangovers.”
Another laugh shook my chest. “You never learn.”
“No. If they’re that good looking, I don’t ever want to.”
A familiar voice had my feet slowing. I looked over my shoulder at the television. Our captain was walking away as his place was taken on the podium.
My name is Boston Marks. This is my girlfriend, Lucy Adams. She was taken yesterday. I’m begging anyone out there who has seen her, please contact authorities. I’m all she has. And Lucy…she’s all I have. I love her. I’m begging you, please, if you know anything, come forward.” A pause. “Lucy, baby, I love you. I’m going to find you, I promise.
Boston’s jaw reflexed repeatedly as tears raced down his face. Seconds went by before he took a ragged breath.
If the person who did this is watching, I’m asking you, please let her go. Please. Lucy doesn’t deserve this. She’s the kindest, sweetest... Let her go…right now…or so help me, you will wish you had.
“Son of a bitch,” Diego breathed out. “There’s a side of loverboy we haven’t seen. Did you see that, Casey? Sent chills down my damn spine. That look. Those eyes…I don’t know about that one.”
Anna was suddenly in the frame just off from the side of the stage. My stomach twisted as I followed Diego out. “Boston Marks isn’t the one we need to worry about, it’s this killer. The look he had, I probably sported the same one when Anna was taken. He wants the woman he loves returned. He’s a fighter, and that’s what you saw.”
“What I saw was a man threatening the life of whoever took her.”
“He’s emotional. I was the same way. If it weren’t for you calming me down, Lord knows what would have come from my mouth.”
“You’re not like that, though.” He paused as we headed down the stairs and out the front door. “That…Boston…he’s not like you. There’s something inside him. I can feel it. I felt it from the first moment I saw him. I don’t know, Casey. It’s something I can’t shake.”
Chapter 9
Anna
“I shouldn’t have done that. I couldn’t stop myself.” Boston ran his fingers through his hair as he paced beside me. “I want Lucy back. I just fucking want her back, and if he...if he touches her. If he fucking hurts her…”
I tried to push away what I knew of the girl they found this morning. Braden had said it was bad. For him to say that, I could only imagine the worst. The details weren’t out, so it wasn’t circulating through media yet, but I knew what everyone else soon would: there was a killer out there, one the residents of Rockford might have to protect themselves from—one…they might have good reason to fear.
“Listen to me. We’re going to find her. Now that Lucy’s picture is circulating, people will be looking out for her as well.”
“I have to go. My mother’s flight—”
“Boston?”
We both looked over at the deep voice. An older man with a concerned expression walked over, wrapping his arms around Boston.
“I came as soon as I could. How are you?”
“Not good. I’m so glad you’re here.” Boston pulled back, lifting his hand toward me. “This is Dr. Patron. He’s a family friend. He happened to be in the area with work. Dr. Patron, this is Anna Monroe. She’s been helping me look for Lucy.”
The man with the white hair shook my hand. He was dressed in an expensive suit, and I couldn’t help but notice how fit he was. His shoulders were wide, and his biceps appeared almost too big for the sleeves wrapped around them. Although his appearance was striking, something unsettling had me studying him closer. And I wasn’t the only one. He was trying to rea
d me too.
“I’m so happy Boston had someone here for him during this tragic time.” He paused, his lids lowering even more. “I’m sorry, you look very familiar. Anna Monroe. I know that name.”
“Are you in the area often? Perhaps you’ve seen me on the news. I’m a reporter.”
Hesitation, and it had me holding my breath.
“I’m only in Chicago, and only every month for a weekend or so. A reporter?” He glanced at Boston, but came back to me. “No…I know you from…” His stare scanned down as he seemed to think, stopping at my left hand. I quickly drew in my fingers. “News. Yes. I bet that’s what it is. I’m sorry. I’m usually very good at placing someone if I’ve seen them before.”
“It’s okay. It happens. You’re a doctor?”
At my question, he smiled. “Psychiatrist. Mainly private practice now, but I did work with the FBI for a while in my younger days. That was another life.”
“Oh. Wow. Like…profiling? That sort of thing?”
“You could say that.”
I glanced at Boston, feeling hope spark. “That’s great. Then you can help us. Boston and I were talking, and we’ve been coming up with ways for him to recall something he’s seen or get an idea if he knows anyone who might want to take Lucy.”
“She’s right. Anna’s had such great ideas.” Boston appeared confused as he looked at the doctor. “I didn’t know you worked with the FBI.”
“Like I said, it was a long time ago.”
“But you profiled for them. You could help us.”
“Boston.” Dr. Patron shifted as he threw him a look. “I plan to help you in any way I can, but maybe we should talk about this later. In a more private setting.”
Immediately, his stare came to me. He didn’t want me to be a part of it. I could read his unease like a book, and I didn’t like it.
“I may be a reporter, Dr. Patron, but what happens between me and Boston stays there. I gave my word that what we uncover will not be shared with my employer. I want Lucy found just as much as anyone.”
“Ms. Monroe, I appreciate you wanting to help Boston, but I think this is best left for the authorities to take care of. If you’ll excuse us, I do believe his mother will be arriving soon, and we really should be making our way to the airport.”
Dr. Patron’s hand settled on Boston’s back, but he didn’t budge as the doctor tried to lead him away.
“Anna was there for me when no one else was. She stayed with me almost all night. Her ideas, her insight, is vital. She’s smart. She’s…” He held the doctor’s stare, breaking away to look at me as he seemed to battle something. “Anna, may I tell him your story? He has to see why I trust you.”
My unease heightened through the reluctant nod.
“Do you remember the Rock River Killer?”
The doctor stayed stoic. “I’m very familiar with the case.”
“Anna was his last victim. She killed him after months of being tortured. She knows what it’s like to be on the other side. Lucy’s side. I need her with me, Dr. Patron. I need her.”
A blank stare was cast my way. It was unreadable. Completely emotionless. And it triggered my other identity—my killer: Annalise. My walls shot up and defensiveness had anger bubbling through the confusion this doctor triggered.
“I thought that’s who you were. The finger. It brought it all back.” He glanced at Boston. “You trust her. But did she tell you who else she is?”
My heart slammed against my chest.
“What do you mean? Anna?”
I opened my mouth, but nothing would come. My silence had the doctor’s own lips tugging back on the side. “I worked on your mother’s case. It was me and a former colleague who led the agents in her direction. That’s why Rodney Turner took you, correct?”
Boston looked between us, confused. “I don’t understand.”
“You would if you had all of your memory. Anna Monroe is none other than the daughter of the Madison Ridge Killer. She helped her mother murder countless women when she was a child. One of those women was linked to this man who called himself No One. Anna, here, helped kill the woman who was meant to be his stepmother. He took the loss as an excuse and used it for motivation for who he really was. He didn’t begin committing his crimes out of actual pain from the loss. I doubted he cared for the woman at all. But you won’t hear any of that in the news because even now, the FBI hasn’t been able to make that connection. I, on the other hand, have. Regardless, Anna may have motives of her own for helping you. Tell me, Ms. Monroe, how are the cravings? What exactly did No One make you do once you were his? He had other victims while you were captured. Did you help? Those girls fit your profile, not his. Did you kill those girls he picked out just for you?”
My eyes narrowed through the rage—through the slight twinge of guilt my mind told me I was supposed to feel. Most of all, all I got was the twisted lust I shouldn’t have felt.
“Rebecca Ann Fowler,” Boston whispered. “I remember her. God, I…remember the story. And the news. That’s what Detective Casey meant by criminal minds think alike. Of course.”
“Boston, I can explain. The girl I used to be—the person No One kidnapped—”
“Is still in there,” Boston said, cutting me off. “You’re a victim, and a killer. I saw it. I saw it and couldn’t place it, but I knew I could trust you.”
“I’m sorry?” I took a step back, looking between the two men. “You both are wrong. I don’t kill. I didn’t kill…you have me confused for something I’m not.”
“Oh, we’re not confused at all,” Dr. Patron said, walking closer. “I know things the press doesn’t. I know by the condition of those girls’ bodies you were the one who mutilated them. I also know you ripped that man’s heart out and tore it to pieces when he tried to take you a second time. Just like you did when the FBI took you as a girl. You committed yourself to that mental hospital to try to escape who you are. But we both know the truth, don’t we, Ms. Monroe?”
My head shook, and I spun to leave. Boston rushed in front of me before I could take more than a few steps. Captivation and something entirely unknown filled his face.
“Anna, please, I need you. Lucy needs you. I’m convinced if anyone can find her, it’s you. You know both sides. You think both ways.”
“You heard this doctor. Do you have any idea who you’re standing before? What I’ve done? Aren’t you afraid?”
Boston laughed under his breath. “Not in the least. You may come to see we have more in common than you think.”
“Boston.”
We both looked over at the warning in the doctor’s tone, but Boston came back to me. “How much can I trust you, Anna? Can you keep secrets? To the grave?”
“Boston, enough.”
I soaked in his words—his underlying threat, ignoring the doctor. There was more going on around Boston than he was telling me. But how much more? Who was this man, really?
“To the grave,” I said, keeping eye contact. “I told you from the beginning I wanted to help.”
“And I need it. I was afraid to tell you more about me because of what you would think, but if we’re going to find Lucy, I can’t hold anything back. You’re going to hear things you probably won’t like. You may even hate me when you learn the truth, but I’m willing to risk that if it means bringing Lucy home. I just hope my fears aren’t validated. Maybe you’ll understand. Maybe you’re the only one who will.”
“You’re making a mistake,” the doctor said in a clipped tone.
“There are no mistakes if this helps find Lucy.”
I sighed, not liking where this was going…not liking Dr. Patron. “You asked me to go with you. Should we be on our way to the airport? If so, I have to let the station know I won’t be able to take calls.”
“Yes. Thank you, Anna.”
I nodded, dismissing how the doctor was nearly pacing in my peripheral. The hair on my neck was standing on end. My heart kept jumping in rhythm. Maybe it was his
know-it-all attitude, or the way he carried himself as if he knew my every secret…my every move before I made it. Regardless, I was here for Boston. He and Lucy needed me. And I needed this too.
“If you’ll excuse me,” I said, pulling out my phone. “This won’t take long.”
Boston turned, walking over to Dr. Patron as Carley’s voice echoed through the line.
“Great piece earlier, Anna. I think Davis is jealous.”
My lip peeled back in disgust at the mention of his name. “Let him be jealous. It would do him good to be out of the spotlight for once. Besides, shouldn’t he be planning for his vacation or something?”
“That’s exactly what Mr. Rice told him. A few more days, and he’s off to Bermuda. Lucky bastard.”
“Indeed.” I fake laughed. “Well, if you want, throw my stories his way. I have to take off the rest of the day. I’m not feeling so well. Can you let Mr. Rice know?”
“Sure thing. Feel better soon.”
“I’ll try.”
I brought the phone down, hitting Braden’s number as I glanced toward Boston and the doctor. They looked deep in conversation and neither appeared very happy about it.
“Anna.”
My smile was genuine. “Braden. How are you?”
“Tired. Could be better. I’m actually on my way home to catch a few hours of sleep. How are you?”
I paused, walking farther away as I pretended to act natural. “I’m okay, I think. I’m here with Boston. A doctor showed up. A family friend of Boston’s parents I guess. He says he’s a psychiatrist. Even said he worked with the FBI once upon a time. He…he knew things about me, Braden. He knew about my mother’s case. About things that last day with No One he shouldn’t have known. I don’t like him.”
Silence had me glancing back over to the men.
“What’s his name?”
The protectiveness in Braden’s voice had a comforting calmness rolling through. “Dr. Patron. I’m not saying he has anything to do with Lucy. I highly doubt it. I just. I don’t know. There’s this feeling with him I can’t explain.”