by A. A. Dark
“Not all my clients are wealthy. Some I take just to help. Daniel was one of those patients. I knew about his history before I ever officially met him. I thought if I couldn’t get a confession, I could at least keep an eye on him.”
“You can say you did that. Two eyes. Is he the one who busted up your face?”
My lips twisted at the reference. “Yes. I was pushing him to talk. Something was wrong. I could tell by the way he refused to sit during our session. He kept pacing. When he mentioned something along the lines of ‘the bitch deserved it,’ I told him he had one minute to start talking or I couldn’t see him anymore. My mistake was standing. The moment I put myself on his level, he tried to knock me off it.”
“Did he say anything else?”
“Yes. After he apologized, which I took as genuine given the shock and regret I witnessed through his expressions, he began to sob. He said the blackouts were getting worse and the voices wouldn’t stop. He said he didn’t know what he was going to do. That…he was in trouble.” I shut the book, placing it back in my inside pocket. “He left shortly after that. The agitation returned when I renounced myself as his doctor and offered to get him other help. He refused, of course, but truthfully, I was happy for the appointment to be over with. It wasn’t until he called me last night from here that I began to piece it together. During the call, he said something that immediately made me think of Anna. He said, ‘that bitch with the brown eyes from the news deserves to have her mouth shut’. Brown eyes. From my work with the FBI, I learned to pick up on keywords or phrases of suspects in distress. There was no reason for him to mention eye color. It didn’t make sense.”
A speck of discoloration drained from the detective’s face as his stare left me and went to the hallway just behind us.
“Interesting, indeed,” he breathed out. “Thank you for the information. I’ll call you if we need anything else.”
“That’s it?”
“For now, but I’ll be in touch.”
“Okay,” I said, standing. “I hope I helped in some way.”
“Oh, you did. Very much so.”
I stepped around the chair, nodding as I turned to leave.
“Oh…Dr. Patron?” The detective’s eyes narrowed as he studied me for what seemed endless seconds.
“Yes, Detective?”
“Don’t leave town.”
Chapter 23
Detective Casey
Anna. I’d told her to stay out of it. I’d told her the killer might come after her if she kept digging deeper into this investigation. Reporting on live TV was bad enough. Spending every waking minute with the victim’s boyfriend was even worse. Then, the flyers. Bring in the questions I knew they were asking random people throughout the city, and it was a fucking red beacon drawing the killer right to her. I knew how these nut-jobs worked. After all, hadn’t No One kept tabs on me? Hadn’t he played games as I searched for Anna? Being a detective put me in the limelight for that. Most killers couldn’t help but stay somehow involved. And now, another one had come after her. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t let her do this.
“Are you just going to sit there, or are one of you going to undo these cuffs and let me go? I didn’t fucking do anything.”
“We know otherwise.” I opened the folder, holding it just high enough so it was angled and blocked the content I read through. Diego looked tired as I glanced over. We were technically supposed to leave an hour before, but I refused without trying to get a confession from Daniel Stracht one more time. “Let’s talk about Melanie Ways, Paula Oblene, and Lucy Adams.”
“Who? Man, fuck you. Where’s my lawyer? My doctor said he would send one.”
“Your doctor?”
“That’s right. I talked to him last night. He said he was sending a lawyer over as soon as possible.”
I shrugged. “I guess he lied.”
“Bullshit. My doctor is true to his word. Either stop blocking my lawyer from getting to me or provide one. I know my rights.”
“I guess you would being as you’ve gone through this before. Or maybe you’ve forgotten about Cadence Miller.”
“Don’t you fucking say that bitch’s name.”
“Oh, so you do remember her?”
My stare rose to his dark eyes. The night before, I hadn’t even realized one wasn’t real. Looking now, I still couldn’t notice a significant difference.
“Doctors and technology are amazing these days. I can’t even tell. She stabbed you in the eye, and you killed her, didn’t you?”
Defensiveness had him stiffening. “Who said one of my eyes aren’t real?”
“Doesn’t matter. I know a lot more than you think I do.”
A small laugh filled the space. “I doubt that.”
“How are the voices, Daniel? Do you hear them now?”
The smirk fell as his lids narrowed. “Excuse me?”
“We need Lucy Adams. I know you’re not well. Tell us where she is, and I’ll see what I can do to get you help.”
“Don’t you fucking try to play me. I don’t know any Lucy Adams.”
“I think you do.”
“Well, you’re wrong. Never heard of her.”
“Blonde hair, green eyes. You’re telling me you didn’t take a girl matching that description?”
“Nope.”
“Really. Then what about Melanie or Paula? You take them?”
“I said I want a fucking lawyer. We’re done.”
A growl rumbled through me as I scooted the chair out and stood. Daniel’s angry gaze followed us out of the interrogation room, and the moment the door shut, I cursed under my breath.
“I know he’s the one who killed those girls. We have to find Lucy. Do we have a location? What the hell is going on?”
Diego followed me to my desk, motioning for the officer to indicate we were done. “Nothing. Nothing at all. Last known address already has new tenants. The guy has been a ghost for the last year. According to records, he’s had no job, no arrests. He’s pretty much been off the grid.”
“Impossible. I don’t believe that. There has to be something.”
“Let the others try to find it. We’re done for the day.”
All I could do was nod in agreement as Diego took off toward his desk. I was tired…starving. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d had a decent meal. Grabbing my keys from the desk drawer, I walked to my car in a daze. Scenes from Paula Oblene came back in flashes of marks covering her body. Strips of skin were missing, and where the lines were were deep lacerations. Whatever he hit her with cut almost to the bone. Green eyes were missing, and the right bottom of her earlobe even appeared to be bitten off or removed. Bruising on her inner thighs told me she’d been sexually assaulted for quite some time as well.
The engine turned over, and still, I stayed deep in my mind. Lucy. What about her triggered Daniel’s need to abduct her? She wasn’t from here and was only in Rockford for a matter of minutes before she was taken. There was no way he had the time to figure out her and Boston’s name, call to distract Boston, and then already have the kidnapping planned. Was it spontaneous? An overheard conversation he acted on immediately? Had they made eye contact and he couldn’t help himself? Perhaps, but I couldn’t believe it. What were the odds that one patient to the same doctor took another patient’s girlfriend? Did he know Boston? It didn’t appear that way when Boston saw him at the house. So, if Boston didn’t know him, did he know Boston? Had he heard about him through association with the doctor? None of it made fucking sense.
Lights blurred as I made my way home. I was so gone from the racing thoughts, I almost missed Boston’s car parked in front of Anna’s house. The need to shower and grab clothes so I could come back instantly disappeared. I didn’t make it past the driveway before I turned in to park on the other side of Anna’s car. Getting clothes could wait. Jealousy was back as I shut off the engine and stalked to the door. At the knob refusing to turn in my tight grip, I thrust the key in the lock an
d swung the barrier open. Silence met me. Dead silence.
“Anna?” I shut the door, stepping from the entryway into the open living room. My feet rooted, and my eyebrows rose in surprise to see Boston asleep on the couch.
“In here.”
At Anna’s whisper, my eyes widened. All I could do as I headed into her bedroom was stare in disbelief.
“I know what you’re going to say. Just…don’t. He’s had a rough few days.”
“He’s not the only one. I arrested a man last night who I have no doubt is a cold-blooded killer. Arrested him, Anna, here, at our home. And he was coming after you.” Taking her arm, I led her to the bed. “We have to talk. This thing you have going on with wanting to investigate and help people, you have to stop. After Lucy is found, I don’t want you involving yourself with more of this sort of stuff. I can’t take it. God, what if I hadn’t been driving by last night? What if he would have made it inside?”
“Then we would have had another murder. But not mine.”
“How do you know that? You can’t be sure.”
“But I am.”
“How?”
“Braden—”
“No, answer the question. How do you know you wouldn’t have gotten hurt? You’re not invincible, Anna. Tell me.”
“Be quiet. You’re yelling.”
“Tell me,” I said quieter. “Convince me. Make me see.”
“See what? Anyone stupid enough to break into this house would never make it back out of here alive. They’d be in my basement, never to see the light of day again. God, Braden. Can’t you see? Don’t you see? I can’t stop trying to find these bad men. I don’t want to.”
“What then? What if you do find them?”
At her silence, my head lowered through the helplessness. My world was being split in two. I dreamed Anna and I could come together again—to have the life we almost had all those months ago. Now, I wasn’t sure that would ever be possible. She wasn’t going to stop trying to find someone to help…or kill.
Knocking had my eyes slashing to the door. The anger returned as I bought my attention back to her. “And that? Is that going to be every husband, wife, boyfriend, or parent in future cases? Should I be looking into building a guestroom? Maybe compile a list of…of…” I blinked hard as something tugged at my memory.
“That’s not fair. Boston is here because I asked him to stay. Excuse me.”
As Anna went to the door and began whispering, I tried bringing back whatever it was that was bothering me. Something. Something. Doctor. That’s what I was going to say. Compile a list of shrinks and doctors to supply the grieving families. But just the recollection triggered my subconscious to Dr. Patron. He worked with Daniel Stracht. He worked with Boston Marks. That was clear. But why?
“No, go back to sleep. Everything is okay. I promise.”
“Everything is not okay,” I said, walking over to open the door the rest of the way. Boston met me head-on, even stepping closer through his glare. The alarming vibes were all too real. Back and forth, I looked between him and Anna. Their connection, their odd bond. To deny they had something she and I didn’t was stupid. They did, I just hadn’t been able to place it before. Bring in Daniel…
“Do you yell at her like that often?”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me, Detective. I don’t think I like the way you’re talking to her.”
“And I don’t think this is your house, or your business.”
“I disagree with the last part.”
“Enough,” Anna said, interrupting. “Let’s make something clear. This is my house. My life,” she said, looking between both of us. “Everyone under this roof, I want here. That means both of you.”
“Of course…I’m sorry.” Boston paused as he stepped back. “I’m grateful to you for letting me stay. I shouldn’t have overstepped your kindness. I can leave for a little while to give you two time alone if you’d like.”
Even as he asked, I didn’t miss the panic in his tone. He didn’t want to go. Not even close.
“You’re fine. We’re all fine. It’s been a stressful day. Especially for Braden, I’m sure.”
“You have no idea, but I think it’s about to get worse.” I gestured to the living room. “Truthfully, Boston, the last thing I want right now is for you to leave. What I do want is for you to answer a few questions for me. With honest answers. Dead. Honest.”
The look Boston and Anna gave me was unreadable. Seconds passed before both walked to the couch like reprimanded children. Or predators. I wasn’t sure. They were light on their feet, looking back with cautious eyes as they headed around and took a seat. I remained standing while I studied their body language.
“Before you start asking questions, I have a few of my own. Where’s Lucy? You have the bastard who took her. Why hasn’t she been found yet?”
“We have no evidence the man we have is the same one who took her. My turn. What is the reason you require Dr. Patron’s services?”
Boston’s face hardened. “Therapy. I have a problem bottling my emotions. He helps me work through them. Now, more about Lucy. You say you have no evidence. Dr. Patron told me he thought Daniel was the one who took her. Isn’t that enough? Have you checked his home to see if she’s there?”
“He has no home. Not that we can find. More on these bottled emotions. Is it more than that? Are you violent?”
“Braden, Boston is not the one in question here. We should be out looking for Lucy.”
“I am looking for Lucy. Answer. Are you violent?”
“I didn’t hurt her. I’ve never once hurt her, or even thought about it. I don’t think I’ve ever even raised my voice when we have a disagreement. I love her.”
My lids closed as I tried to calm. “I’m not talking about being violent toward her. I mean in general. To others.”
Boston slowly stood, keeping his eyes glued to mine. “What are you getting at, Detective?”
“My suspect is seeing Dr. Patron because of his mental health—violence, voices, possible murder, which indicates to me you could be seeing him for those reasons as well. I love Anna, but I also know her better than anyone. The two of you are awfully similar. When you’re together, you move in sync. She turns, you have her back. She looks one way, you’re covering the territory she’s oblivious to. Be honest with me because I am no fool.”
Boston looked at Anna, furrowing his brow as he searched her face. When he turned back to me, his walls seemed to be lowering.
“You have nothing to worry about. It’s true, Anna and I are similar. I feel a very strong connection to her. I doubt I could explain it enough to make sense to you, though. All you need to know is you have no reason to give me a second thought. All I want is Lucy, and then I’m out of here. You never have to see me again. To get to that point, we have to find her.”
“And to find her, I need more information. I’m missing something. It’s right there. It’s all right there, and I’m not seeing it.”
Chapter 24
Anna
9:02 p.m.
Dark circles were etched under Braden’s eyes, just like the rest of us. Exhaustion was taking its toll, causing the smallest things to build to a breaking point. Only a little over an hour before, Boston and I were on the verge of an argument that could have sent us on our separate ways. And temporarily, it did—him feigning a nap; me escaping to my room as he pretended to sleep.
I never thought not to question his conversation with Dr. Patron. I was aware Boston had gone to the police station, but what had come out of it was suddenly none of my business. It hurt and had me lashing out. Boston didn’t take well to me pulling emotionally away and begged me to “stay away from him.” The warning against Dr. Patron was enough to have us both pausing. The argument came to a stop when he apologized and blamed his behavior on not finding Lucy. Truth was, I didn’t blame him for not telling me what happened between him and the doctor. It was personal. I understood that. But it wasn’t just
information on the suspect I was hoping he would include me in on. My concern came from the fear that Dr. Patron had clued Boston in on our meeting at the running path tonight. I was having my own insecurities about this plan to dig deeper into his. A part of me wanted to see what Dr. Patron was capable of, while the rational side thought it best to keep my real secrets out of this.
“Detective, when do you think you’ll find an address?”
Boston’s voice sounded defeated as he lowered back to the sofa. Glancing at the clock again, I felt myself break into a sweat.
9:07 p.m.
“Hopefully soon. We’re doing everything we can. I asked Dr. Patron, but he wasn’t sure where the suspect lived either.”
“How does he not know? He, more than anyone, has insight into this guy’s mind.” I paused, biting my tongue as I grew quiet. Maybe he did know. Maybe he didn’t. Not everyone liked to talk about the darker side of their life, and this man was a murderer. It could have been the reason he withheld his address.
“I asked him the same thing,” Boston said, resting his forearms just above his knees. His head lowered as he looked toward the floor. “I don’t understand any of it. He’s a good doctor. Fucking smart,” he said, glancing over to me. “Even if this bastard didn’t fully confess, Dr. Patron would have put it together within the first hour. He would have known. There’s no doubt in my mind. Fuck…it’s just that…through all our sessions, he has this way of twisting your mind to get you to speak. I’ve gone in there almost repeatedly thinking, I’ll just say I’m fine. I’ll get in and get right out. Sometimes, I hate going. Every time, every single time, I end up spilling my guts. And not intentionally. It’s his words. The way he uses them. The man is genius at manipulating a confession out of you. I don’t get it.”
Silence took over as Braden made a path from one side of the living room to the other. He was obviously still in work mode. He paced. He paused. He paced some more. When my phone alerted, everyone stopped, looking toward the kitchen.
“Maybe it’s work,” I lied. “We’ve been putting together a special on the girls. They warned me earlier I might have to go in.”