“Good man,” Derek said.
“Go on.”
“I cleared both floors. She went upstairs and told me to stay downstairs. The front door was still open, but I heard something in the back. I went to check on it, and when I turned, a man stood there.”
“Did you get a look at him?”
Fin shook his head. His shoulders sagged. “He had on a baseball cap and glasses. You’d think I’d remember something, but the prick shot me point-blank in the chest and the force knocked me out. I’m sorry, Agent Moretti. I don’t remember anything.”
* * *
THEIR TEAM CANVASSED the neighborhood. Derek and Marcus took the homes sharing property lines with Evelyn’s house. Blood thundered in Marcus’s ears after leaving the fourth home with nothing. He clenched his fist. Someone had to have seen something.
They walked up to the last home. Derek knocked on the front door and stepped back. “How you holding up?”
“I can’t lose her, man.”
“You won’t.”
Derek reached over, knocked on the door again, louder. The door swung open. A tall muscular man answered.
“Yeah?”
“I’m Special Agent Derek Moretti, and this is Special Agent Marcus Moretti. Is Craig Meyer available?”
The man frowned. “No, afraid not. He’s ill, in bed. Doctor’s orders.”
He extended his hand and gripped Marcus’s in a tight handshake. “I’m Ed Meyer, his grandson. Can I help with something?”
“Did you notice anything next door in the past hour? Any disturbance?”
He looked up and away, as if trying to remember. He squinted his eyes, then shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t help you, Agent Moretti. I was out getting medical supplies. When I got back, I didn’t notice anything aside from that kid sitting on Evelyn’s porch. Sorry I couldn’t be of more assistance.”
Marcus swallowed the disappointment that washed over him. He reached into his coat pocket, pulled out his card and handed it to the guy. “If you notice anything or remember anything else, please call me immediately.”
“Of course, Officer.” Ed closed the door.
Derek clasped Marcus on the shoulder. “We’ll find her.”
“Can you promise that?”
Derek didn’t respond. They both knew he couldn’t.
“Yeah, I didn’t think so.” Marcus headed toward his car. “Let’s get back. We’re done here.”
Back at the precinct, angry, concerned eyes stared at him as he approached the group of officers. “Listen up, folks. Our first sweep didn’t yield anything. But we aren’t rolling over. The lab is making this top priority. So everything gets copied to headquarters and all divisions. I know the past few weeks have been hell for everyone, but we need to keep it together. The clock is ticking. Canvas everywhere. Talk to everyone. We will find her. That’s all for now.”
The officers dispersed. Marcus ran a hand through his hair and over his face. With each tick of the clock, every cell in his body screamed at him to do something. The same bastard who had killed Ryan and his family without hesitation most likely now had Evelyn. No, he did. Marcus knew the bastard had her. He could feel it.
“He’s got her, Derek.”
“We don’t know—”
Fin approached them. “Sir, I shouldn’t have let her—”
“There was nothing you could’ve done. He got the drop on you. It happens to the best of us.”
Fin shook his head sadly.
Marcus put a hand on the young rookie’s shoulder. “Every officer in the city will be on this until we find her. And we will find her.”
Fin dipped his head and walked to his desk.
Marcus waved to Derek and motioned toward the conference room. He closed the door behind them. “Something’s gotta break.”
“Nothing from Alexis?”
Marcus scrubbed his hands across his face, shook his head. “What you know, I know.”
“Call her. Maybe we’ll get lucky.” Derek tossed him his cell. “Use my phone to keep your line free.”
Marcus punched in the familiar number, turned and studied the murder board. Urgency inched up his spine, dread wrapped itself around his heart and squeezed. Where was Evelyn? Was she even alive? And what the hell was that psychopath doing to her? If he lost her...
His stomach dropped.
“Easy, man,” Derek muttered.
Marcus paced, waited for Alexis to pick up. Easy, his ass. Lady Luck had played hard-to-get throughout this whole damn case. Somehow he doubted she’d suddenly show up.
Alexis answered on the third ring. “Hey, Derek.”
“It’s Marcus.”
“Why are you calling me on D’s phone?”
“Evelyn is missing,” Marcus said quietly.
“What? I don’t understand,” Alexis squeaked, her voice high. “What’s going on? When did this happen? Do you think it’s the same—”
“Alexis.” Marcus cut her off. “I don’t have time to explain. I need good news. And I need it now. Tell me you have something for me.”
Silence hung in his ear. Marcus’s heart sank. Shit. Lady Luck had just fucking flipped him off.
“Lex...” He swallowed his frustration.
“I’ve been working around the clock and I’m close, I can feel it.” She hesitated. “But I don’t have anything yet.”
Marcus punched the table. Derek turned from studying the board, took a step toward him. Marcus shook his head.
“Not good enough, Alexis. I need your A-game. Do whatever you have to. Call in favors. Pull strings. I don’t care what you have to do. I need that information. And I need it now.”
“Marcus...”
“Damn it, Alexis, do whatever it takes.” Marcus hung up and slumped into the chair. “Shit.”
“You were a bit rough on her, don’t you think?” Derek said, his voice hard.
“We need that information.”
“I understand that. But stressing out your baby sister isn’t going to make the information fall out of the sky, Marcus.”
“We both know she works best under pressure.”
“That’s total bullshit, and you know it.”
“We need that information,” Marcus argued.
“Yes, but you didn’t need to be an asshole about it,” Derek retorted. “If it’s out there, she’ll find it.”
“But will she be too late?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
THREE AGONIZING HOURS slipped past. They’d gone through traffic camera footage, hoping for a hit. Nothing. Kessler sent out another team to canvas Evelyn’s neighborhood again. Nothing. CSI combed through Fin’s clothing, searching for a fiber, a piece of hair, anything that didn’t belong to the rookie. Nothing. Marcus paced the conference room, anxiety chipping away at him. With each passing second, the chance of finding Evelyn alive faded a little more. His chest tightened.
Derek’s phone chirped. He looked at it and tossed it to Marcus. “It’s Alexis.”
“Alexis, it’s Marcus. I was an ass. I’m—”
“Yes. You were. A complete ass. But—” her voice softened “—no apology is necessary. I’d be an asshole, too, if the person I loved went missing.”
The person he loved. Was it that obvious? He rubbed the back of his neck and swallowed down the emotion that burst into his throat.
“Thanks for the grace, sweetheart.” He pushed a button, set the phone on the table. “You’re on speaker. Talk to us.”
“I’ve got news. It’s not everything. But it’s a start. And you owe me big-time. I’ve done things that we will not discuss. Ever.”
Marcus shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t even want to know what things—probably illegal things—Alexis had done to get him the info
rmation he’d demanded. He hated to put her in that position. But he’d do it over and over again if it meant it brought Evelyn back.
“And, God forbid, it ever comes back to bit me in the ass,” Alexis continued, “I’m calling you both to cover for me. You got it?”
“Yes, ma’am,” they said in unison.
“Lex, what have you got?” Derek asked.
“I have an address and a name for you—Nick McClain. He currently lives south of Seattle, in Woodmont Beach. I’m sending over photos now.”
“Excellent, great work. Thank—”
“That’s not all, Marcus.”
Marcus and Derek looked at each other.
“Not only is that the current address to your print, that print also has a connection to Evelyn’s family.”
“Holy shit. How...when—”
“Derek asked me to find any connections to Evelyn’s family murder M.O. and other murders in the same time period. Well, I found one. Actually, I found a lot. I’ve been sorting for—”
“Lex,” Derek said softly. “Focus.”
“Right. McClain’s father was killed two weeks before Evelyn’s family. His two daughters were murdered three weeks before that. The connection, aside from the similar time frame of murders? Evelyn and Nick McClain’s oldest sister, Angela, were at the same modeling agency together. Apparently the two girls were up for the same contract to Milan. Evelyn got it. Angela didn’t. Nor did she get booked again after that. Two months later, Angela, her kid sister, Sandra, and their father were dead. The oldest child, Nickolas McClain, was never found. He just disappeared, at least until now. It’s a leap, I know. But...”
“No, it’s a good start.” Marcus paced. “Are there any other properties listed to him or any close kin?”
“Checking that now. As soon as that I have that info, you’ll have it.”
Derek pulled up the photos, pushed them to the large screen at the end of the conference room.
A twenty-something man looked back at them, his face hard, stony. A tattoo spread across the left side of his bald head.
“This is our guy?” Derek asked. “He looks like a biker.”
“Yes...” She faltered.
“Talk to me, Alexis,” Marcus said. “Is this the guy or not?”
He hadn’t meant to be sharp with his baby sister. Again. Shit, he was being such a prick. But every cell in his body screamed at him to hurry up, to move. Alexis would most likely be the variable that cracked this case wide-open. But her hesitation sent cold fear down his spine.
“The prints match, yes. But I can’t be sure if the guy you’re currently seeing is our guy.”
“Why not?” Derek took another look at the image.
“This photo seems off, Marcus. But I’m not—”
“Alexis!”
“There’s an electronic shadow of a footprint that’s all wrong. I think this file has been hacked into, the photos swapped. You’d have to have some serious high clearance, know someone who does or just be that good. None of those options are positive. Let me dig into this, but I hope I’m not right.”
“Aside from obvious reasons, why do you hope that?” Marcus asked.
She took a deep breath. “Because then whoever did this is smart—like my kind of smart.”
The two brothers glanced at each other. Derek whistled.
“Can you get me his real photo?” Marcus asked.
A long pause filled the room.
“Alexis?”
“It might take me a while, depending on how good he is, but yes. I can get his real photo.”
“I need this guy’s face. Like yesterday.”
“Marcus, I know that. You’re being an asshole again.”
Derek chuckled.
“Sorry.” Marcus shook his head and stared at the photos illuminating the conference wall.
Her voice rose an octave. “Listen, I don’t think you guys are hearing me. If he’s the same guy you’re dealing with now, you’re talking about going up against a psychopathic genius.”
“We’re hearing you.”
“Marcus, don’t brush me off. This kind of twisted mind is dangerous. Derek, do you hear me?”
Derek smiled up at Marcus and rolled his eyes. Marcus swallowed the chuckle that rose in his throat. Now was not the time for jokes. With every passing second, he was one step further from Evelyn. His stomach sank. Anxiety clawed his soul.
“I hear you,” Derek said. “We both do.”
She continued, voice louder. “Marcus, if I’m right and he has Evelyn—”
Marcus interrupted her. “Then let’s hope you’re wrong.”
He hung up and sagged into a chair. His heart beat wildly against his chest.
“She’s going to be pissed you hung up on her,” Derek said.
Marcus looked up, stared at the photos. He crossed his arms over his chest and a muscle in his jaw jumped. “We both know Alexis is not going to be wrong.”
“I know.”
She wouldn’t be. Which meant, not only were they dealing with a maniac, but they were also dealing with a genius. Shit.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
A MILLION TINY razors pricking all at once, all over her skin, woke Evelyn. She stirred, groggy. Her head pounded. Everything hurt. A herd of elephants stomping on her brain would’ve felt better than the present throbbing in her skull. She blinked against the dull light in the room and squeezed her eyes tight. She shifted and tried to move, but her muscles shrieked. She went from groggy to alert in a microsecond. Her legs were shackled together and her wrists clamped tightly behind her.
Breathe.
She twisted, turned, flipped to her side and came nose-to-nose with her elderly neighbor, Craig. He stared at her with shocked, vacant eyes, a single bullet hole in his wrinkled forehead. Evelyn screamed a noiseless scream. The duct tape across her mouth prevented any sound from escaping her parched throat. She bucked against her restraints, desperate to get away from the corpse touching her. She kicked her feet and tumbled from the bed. The wind left her as she hit the floor.
Collecting her breath, she listened and watched the door. If anyone were here—and where was here?—they’d surely come to check on her.
Heavy footsteps sent her heart into her throat. She pulled at her wrist constraints. They didn’t budge. The footsteps came closer. With each heavy step, her pulse jumped. She pushed with her bound feet, awkwardly scooting across the floor, eyes never leaving the closed door, until her body pressed against the far wall. Her back covered, she commanded her racing heart to settle. It refused to cooperate.
The door swung open. The man who’d attacked her stood at the entrance. Panic tightened its firm grip around her mind. He was a mountain of a man. His head almost reached the top of the door frame, his wide shoulders straining against the black T-shirt he wore. Vibrant tribal tattoos covered his massive arms. His hands fisted at his sides and his mouth twisted in a cruel smile. His brown eyes were those of a killer—cold, calculated and deadly.
He pinned her with his glare and her skin crawled. She looked away. Dread clawed at her throat.
He approached her.
“Well, well. How’d you get down there?”
He hauled her up and threw her back onto the bed. She bounced, every muscle in her screeching at the sudden movement. Craig rolled onto her legs. She bucked and fought to get the dead man off her.
Her abductor laughed, then ripped off the duct tape.
She gasped. Her skin burned where the tape tore her skin raw. “Who are you? Why are you doing this?”
He pushed Craig off the bed. The body landed with a hard thump. How long had Craig been dead?
Her abductor sat next to her. “No need for formal introductions. It’s actually quite simple, Evelyn. You took my
family from me, so I took yours from you. Twice.”
His words felt like a wrecking ball slamming into her gut. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. She went numb. This was the man? Her mind raced to catch up to her waking horror. This was the man who’d stolen her family, who’d taken her precious Olivia from her.
“That’s right. I took your family. Me.” He grabbed her roughly on the chin, jerked her head up and pushed his face close to hers. “Mystery solved. I killed your fucking family.”
She fought against her restraints, raw vengeance pushing at her. “I’ll kill you, you bastard.”
“Somehow I doubt that. You haven’t been able to save a single person I’ve set my sights on.”
Guilt crashed into her. She went still. He was right. She’d failed them—all of them. She closed her eyes.
“What? That’s it? I figured you’d put up more of a fight. How disappointing.”
She felt the bed shift as he got up. She opened her eyes.
“Why those other families?” She pushed the question out through clenched teeth, desperate to know.
“I had to get your attention somehow.”
Her stomach heaved. She swallowed back the sob lodged in her throat. “And Ryan’s?”
Her abductor’s face grew cold, hard. His eyes glinted. “He pissed me off with all that talk about being smarter than me. I had to teach him a lesson. Just as I’ll teach you one.”
He returned to the bed and picked up the tape. She thrashed her head back and forth. “Hold still.”
She fought harder.
“Hold still!” His fist came down, hard. Her cheek exploded in pain. She went limp. He covered her mouth with the duct tape, then smacked her burning cheek. “Can’t have you raising hell, now, can we?”
He moved toward the door, stopped and turned.
“On second thought...” He looked at her. The coldness in his eyes chilled her to the bone. He pushed her facedown onto the bed. Her heart raced. He jerked up her bound wrists and cuffed them to the bedpost. “Can’t have you escaping out the window, either.”
He left her there, slamming the door behind him.
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