The Broken Doll (Inheriting Evil Book 1)

by Paris Hansen

  Wondering why there’d be breaking news on the cartoon channel, he grabbed one of the full suitcases he’d finished packing and made his way down the hall. Sitting on the couch with the remote in her hand was a sleeping Rebecca. She must have changed the channel in her sleep.

  “This just in, the FBI is closing in on the Mommy Murderer. Sources say they have a person of interest and a new victim alive and ready to tell her story. It’s only a matter of time until they make an arrest in a case that has rocked the Bay Area for over half a decade. Pregnant women might be able to sleep a little easier tonight, knowing this nightmare may be over soon.”

  “No. No. NOOOOOOOO. Fuck, fuck.”

  Running his hands through his hair, he pulled on the strands, hoping the pain would make his brain stop spiraling so he could think straight. It didn’t help. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, his palms sweating profusely.

  He needed to get them out of the house. They were on to him. Leaving the blonde alive hadn’t done anything but lead the FBI right to him and the people he loved.

  He screamed, knowing no one else could hear him. Rebecca woke with a start; her little girl cries started slowly, quietly, until they were nearly as loud as his. When he stopped screaming, hers also died down, but her sobs did not. He’d scared her, which was the last thing he wanted to do.

  “Sweetheart, we have to get out of here. Can you go pack up all of your favoritest toys?” he asked as he squatted down to her level.

  She rubbed at her wet eyes as she nodded, then climbed down off the couch and ran down the hall to her room. He could hear the chanting getting louder in the room at the end of the hall. He needed to get her stuff together and get her into the car. But he couldn’t take her outside in her state. The answer was in the bathroom. On the medicine cabinet’s top shelf was a needle and a sedative that would calm her down enough to move her.

  He hated having to resort to knocking her out, but it was the only way he could make sure they all got out safely. No one could see them. No one could know about her and Rebecca.

  Filling the syringe, he opened the bedroom door and walked inside. She rocked hard in the chair, the chanting a rhythmic sound that grated on his nerves. It was that sound, that word, that started all of this. It made him do things he’d normally never do, but it was all he could do to quiet her. To make her happy.

  But it didn’t work. It didn’t last.

  He slowed the chair with one hand, but she didn’t even acknowledge his presence. It hurt.

  More and more, she didn’t even seem to know he was there, and it hurt worse than anything else he’d ever felt. Slowly, he inserted the needle into her neck and pushed down on the plunger. As soon as it was empty, he removed the needle and placed it on top of her dresser. It took a few minutes, but eventually, she quieted, her eyes drooping. He used the time to throw her stuff into a bag.

  He threw framed pictures on top of clothes and toiletries. He knew she’d miss them if they weren’t there when she woke up. The new house was set up like their current place. He’d been working so hard to make it just right so they could make a new life there without incident. The pictures would be the perfect finishing touch.

  By the time he’d finished packing all of their bags, Rebecca sat on the couch playing with her doll. She’d found a bag of her own and shoved a bunch of books and toys into it haphazardly. There was plenty at the new house for her, but he’d also known she’d be upset if they left things behind that she loved.

  Quickly, he loaded Rebecca and all of their bags into the car. Once he was finished, he took one last look around before picking her up and carrying her to the car. He locked the house up tight, then without another thought, he was pulling out of the driveway and heading toward what he’d started to think of as their freedom.

  He just had one last thing to do. He’d finally figured out what the problem was, and why she’d rejected the previous two offerings. He knew what she was looking for, and he knew exactly where to get it.

  Of course, it would be a considerable risk, but it was one worth taking if it made her happy and brought an end to all of the chaos. He didn’t know if he could keep going if this next one didn’t work, but that was a decision he’d have to make if things didn’t go the way he hoped they would.

  In the end, whether he wanted to or not, he’d probably always do whatever it took to make her happy. She was the most important person in his life, after all. Her needs and wants outweighed his.

  No matter what, there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for her.

  Even if it meant he had to keep killing.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Something was off. He could feel it but had no idea what it was.

  Sloane looked nervous. She could barely stand still as she looked from him over to her ex then back to him. He didn’t like the look on her face. It was a cross between don’t be mad at me, and you better believe everything I say. She’d done something stupid, just like he knew she would.

  He’d met her in the lobby, and she’d been nearly bouncing on her toes the whole time they were in the elevator waiting for it to reach their floor. She was eager to say something, and Cade had a feeling it had nothing to do with the young woman they assumed would turn out to be a victim of the unsub.

  “The doctor doesn’t think Amber Newman will be waking up anytime soon, so I didn’t think I needed to stay. I left Trevor there in the meantime.”

  “What did you do?” Morgan asked, proving Cade right.

  He’d only known Sloane for a couple of days, but apparently, he’d already started to figure her out. Not that it was all that hard. Anyone who paid close attention to her would know she’d do anything to get what she needed. From everything he’d read about her, he knew she fought hard for what she believed in, even when nobody believed her.

  “What makes you think…”

  “Cause I know you. Don’t try to be cute, Sloane. Just tell us what you did.”

  Sloane sighed, but she didn’t look ashamed or sorry about whatever she’d done. She smiled at them, though Cade wasn’t sure if she was trying to use it to butter them up or if she was smiling because she discovered something important about the case.

  “I might have taken a drive, and I might have seen something…”

  “Cut the bullshit, Sloane.”

  She rolled her eyes, but the smile never left her face. “Fine. I got a rental car and drove over to Zach Bennett’s house.”

  “Who the hell is that?” Morgan asked.

  “Son of a bitch,” Cade muttered at the same time.

  Cade looked over at the other man, then remembered they never had a chance to debrief him about what they’d learned that afternoon. It had been such a long ass day; it almost felt like two. Everything was beginning to blend together. It was getting more and more challenging to keep things straight. Not only with the Mommy Murderer case, but with the real reason he was there.

  “He’s Danielle Zimmerman’s next-door neighbor. We interviewed him this afternoon, and I think he’s our guy.”

  Morgan looked at Sloane, his brows furrowed, then looked at Cade, waiting for him to back her up. It sucked that he couldn’t. He honestly didn’t believe Zach Bennett was their killer, no matter how much Sloane tried to convince him otherwise. The minute he opened his mouth, she was going to hate him, but he had to tell the truth.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll tell him,” she said before he could get a word out. “Agent Cade here disagrees. He thinks Bennett is too meek, too small to be our unsub. You know, because the three female unsubs we had the first time around were big and burly.”

  Cade sighed but didn’t say anything. Sloane didn’t look over at him. Instead, she kept her gaze locked on her ex-husband. She was done trying to appeal to him. He wasn’t changing his mind, not that he mattered much anyway. Morgan was the one she needed to convince, though Cade knew he wouldn’t be any easier. The man was pretty much sold on Jared Bryant being the unsub despite the evidence leading awa
y from him.

  “Look, I know he seems like a long shot, but he’s our unsub. He lied to us today more than once. He said he lives alone, but he’s got a disabled sister who lives with him, and when I was at his house tonight, I saw a little girl there. Plus, he worked at St. Joseph’s five years ago and works at Williams Memorial now. He had plenty of opportunities to find his victims.”

  “Does he have a motive?”

  Cade couldn’t tell if Morgan was genuinely interested or if he was just soothing her with his question, but she didn’t seem to care either way.

  “I don’t know yet. I need more time to dig into his childhood. His motive could just as easily be the same as Bryant’s.”

  “What about a van? Does he drive or own one?”

  She shook her head. “Not that I saw before I left, but you said Bryant doesn’t either.”

  “No, Bryant doesn’t, but Isaac Camp does.”

  Sloane’s shoulders sank, just barely. It was almost imperceptible, but Cade caught it. The more he watched her, the easier it got to read her. The tiny things most people, save for her ex, wouldn’t notice, he saw them. Having a suspect with a van was a big deal to all of them, even though someone like Bennett could’ve rented a van or borrowed one from a friend they didn’t know about. The news might have knocked a little wind out of Sloane’s sails, but he doubted it would keep her down for long.

  “Who is Isaac Camp?”

  Morgan pulled a picture out of the file folder he had on the table in front of him and slid it across the slick surface to Sloane. She picked it up, examining it far more thoroughly than most people would. It was a standard mugshot, but instead of the scary, tough guy they’d gotten with Bryant’s picture, they had a guy who looked relatively harmless. Knowing he’d been in prison for stabbing a guy painted a different picture.

  “He’s an associate of Bryant’s. They were cellmates for a few months before Camp was released. Then once Bryant was released, Camp got him a job as a janitor at St. Joseph’s, where Camp still works,” Cade explained.

  “So, this guy has the opportunity, and he’s got more motive than your Bennett guy. His mom abused him as a kid, tried to pimp him out to her Johns. He’s an angry little man,” Morgan told her. “And he’s far less intimidating than Bryant. We believe they’ve been working together, so we’ve got agents out looking for Camp now. He’s not at his house, and no one’s seen him in a few days.”

  Sloane continued to study the picture of Isaac Camp; her brows furrowed like she was trying to figure something out. She’d been so sure of Bennett’s guilt it was hard for her to wrap her mind around anyone else, but there was no way she could argue against Camp’s potential involvement. He was far more likely than Bennett, and the evidence, what little they had, pointed in his direction.

  “What about his prints? They must be in the system. Both of them. Have any of the partials we’ve gotten so far come back as a hit to either guy?” Sloane asked.

  Morgan shook his head. “Not yet, but that doesn’t mean anything. You know how long it takes to run prints through the system.”

  She didn’t look convinced.

  Cade hadn’t even given much thought to the partial prints they’d gotten from both the Moreno and Simpson crime scenes. And now that she’d brought them up, he had to wonder if either of the men were their unsub, why hadn’t their prints come back as matches to the few partials they’d gotten five years ago? There was a chance the prints just weren’t good enough to get a match, which happened on occasion. But even knowing that, the lack of a match bothered him more than he wanted to admit.

  “What about the little girl at Bennett’s place? She looked a lot like Maggie.”

  “I thought you said you were parked across the street.”

  Sloane glared at her ex, making Cade glad he didn’t ask the question first. “I was.”

  “Then how good of a look could you have gotten?” Morgan asked, the tone of his voice far more antagonistic than Cade thought necessary, but it wasn’t his place to say anything.

  He couldn’t tell if the standoff between Morgan and Sloane was because of their past or because she was investigating when she wasn’t supposed to be, or both. If he was a betting man, he’d put money on the latter.

  Morgan didn’t want Sloane there in the first place. It had been at Cade’s insistence that he was forced to go and bring her back. Her being in town was causing far more angst than Morgan liked. They’d already had it out an hour ago about her, and Cade figured they’d be due for another one as soon as she was gone for the night.

  “You can’t just run off and do shit on your own, Sloane. You’re here as a civilian consultant. If you’re doing any investigating, it needs to be at the request of an actual agent and with an actual agent. Do you know how much trouble your little side trip could have caused us? I have half a mind to send you home in the morning.”

  Sloane’s jaw tightened, her lips pressed tight. She was fighting the desire to react to her ex-husband’s harshness. Cade honestly couldn’t blame her. He was a bit heavier on the asshole than he needed to be, but Cade had to defer to him. Morgan knew Sloane much better than he did. For all, he knew she needed him to be a little mean for his point to come across. It didn’t make it any easier to watch.

  She blinked a few times, then stood abruptly. She didn’t say anything to either of them, just straightened her shoulders and walked out of the room. It took him a moment to realize what was happening, but then he was up and following her out. He didn’t plan on speaking to her, but it was late, and there was likely nobody else around. She wanted to storm out but couldn’t do it when there was nowhere she could go on her own. The least he could do was help her.

  As they waited for the elevator, the hurt and anger rolled off her in waves. He wanted to touch her, to comfort her, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t be welcomed. Instead, he gave her the information he knew would help her come to grips with the man who was more than likely their unsub.

  “He knew Danielle,” he said abruptly, causing her to turn and face him. “Camp was a client of one of the other lawyers in Danielle’s firm. We’re waiting to confirm dates in Danielle’s calendar, but his lawyer is pretty certain their paths crossed on more than one occasion. Camp was fighting to get visitation rights reinstated after he got out of prison. His lawyer said he’d asked for Danielle’s advice and that she’d sat in on at least one of his meetings with Camp.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Look, I know you want Bennett to be our guy, but there’s no evidence to back that up. Nothing in his history to lead us to believe he’s capable of murdering women and children.”

  When she didn’t respond, he pressed on. “Why don’t you go home and get some rest. In the morning, you can watch the Camp interview, assuming we find him. Hopefully, seeing him in person will help you see he’s our guy.”

  Her shoulders slumped forward. She looked defeated. Cade hated being the one who made her feel that way but hoped she’d get over it when she realized he was right.

  Before he could say anything else, the elevator dinged, the doors sliding open slowly. She stepped inside, her eyes glued to the floor. With a sigh, he swiped his key card, then pressed the button for the lobby.

  “Have a good night, Sloane.”

  As the doors slid closed, she finally looked up, her gaze meeting his at the last second. She might’ve looked defeated before, but that wasn’t the look in her eyes as she disappeared behind the metal doors.

  Determined.

  That was the only word he could use to describe it. Even with the new information, she still believed Zach Bennett was their killer, and if the look in her eyes was any indication, she was more determined now than ever before to prove them all wrong.

  Cade just hoped her conviction didn’t end up getting her in trouble. Or worse...getting her killed.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  It was a beautiful day to have a baby.

  Today was the day; he was finally going to ge
t things right.

  He knew she was supposed to work that day. It was her last day before maternity leave, a farewell to her friends and co-workers before she brought new life into the world. He couldn’t remember what her shift was, and he knew he couldn’t very well walk in and check without looking suspicious.

  He had no other reason to be there since it was his day off. The last thing he wanted to do was draw unnecessary attention to himself. But he needed her, so he’d wait as long as he had to. Since she usually worked the early morning shift, he got there extra early just in case her shift ended sooner than he planned. The downtime was so dull he nearly fell asleep in his car a couple of times. The hasty move the night before and the drama that happened right before had taken more out of him than he realized.

  So far, it had all been worth it.

  The girls seemed happy with their new home. Rebecca loved her princess room and all of the books and toys awaiting her inside. If she hadn’t been so tired, she probably would’ve stayed up all night playing. At first, she’d fought against sleep, but when her eyes started to droop, he convinced her to take a little nap so the adults could get some rest too. When he’d left that morning, she was still fast asleep in her four-poster bed with the shimmery curtains cascading all around it.

  The rest of the house was peaceful as well. The chanting had stopped for now, but he knew the peace wouldn’t last long. Not until he brought her what she needed.

  A baby girl, like the one she’d lost in the accident.

  That had been why she took to Rebecca without a problem five years ago and why she’d rejected the two babies he'd recently brought home. She didn’t want little boys. She wanted another little girl. With Rebecca no longer a baby, she needed another daughter to fill the void.

  He just wasn’t sure if she wanted to keep Rebecca around or if having her in the house was too much. He didn’t want to lose the little girl he loved like she was truly part of the family, but he didn’t want her to hurt either. He could see how painful it was every time she rejected the child, and with a new baby in the house, it would likely get worse.