Cold Revenge

by Mary Stone

  My grin slid away as I realized that wasn’t completely true. Somehow, some way, my bedbound mother had recognized me when I’d paid her a little visit in her retirement home in Florida. A mother’s intuition, maybe? I didn’t know. Didn’t care.

  I’d made sure that she’d never be able to share my little secret with anyone else. I hoped she wasn’t nagging the devil to death down in her fiery home.

  A part of me wished I could share those joys with Milos, but alas. No one beyond my plastic surgery team in Costa Rica knew about my face remodel. For safety’s sake, I intended to keep that information under wraps.

  For now, anyway.

  Milos took my bag, allowing me to settle into the supple back seat and inhale that new leather smell while he tucked my bag into the trunk. I twitched with impatience as I waited for him to climb behind the wheel. I had an important question that needed answering, and I didn’t like to wait.

  Finally, Milos slid into the driver’s seat. Before I could pounce, he spoke first. We hadn’t been working together long enough for him to know that he was breaking a sacred rule, so I let it go and focused on the information. “The Vancouver warehouse is rented and ready to go. I scouted the area, and as far as I can tell, there’s nothing going on there, no activity at all.”

  A delicious warmth curled inside me at his words, like the steam from a cup of hot chocolate. My plan was coming together perfectly. “Which means no one to spy on us or accidentally venture where they shouldn’t.”

  Milos glanced into the rearview mirror and smiled at me. A shark’s smile, cold-eyed and sharp-toothed. I liked that. Creighton had done well by recommending him.

  At first, I’d wondered if Creighton could really be associated with the blood thirsty type of associate I needed, and it had taken several tests before I’d deemed Milos worthy of assisting me with my plans.

  I studied the back of his dark head as he steered the sedan into traffic. When I’d approached Creighton for a referral, I’d requested a man of action. A person of unquestionable loyalty, who was comfortable with battle and taking one life to protect another. Hacking skill preferred, if possible.

  Creighton had nodded and told me that he might know a man who checked all those boxes. At best, I figured his recommendation would be competent, and if I were very lucky, comfortable working in gray areas. Since the jobs I required veered more into pitch-black territory, I hadn’t been all that optimistic.

  A person couldn’t be too careful nowadays, after all. Law enforcement types infiltrated the tightest organizations, planting themselves in the midst before ratting the people they were supposed to be loyal to out.

  I refused to let that happen to me.

  Knowing that anyone wearing a badge couldn’t go as far as committing a crime even while undercover, I began to plan how best to test Milos’s loyalty.

  To my eternal delight, Milos had proven to be a perfect match for my needs in terms of skill set and character from day one when I’d put him to test on the spot.

  While Creighton shared a story about a teenage boy he’d rescued from a religious cult back in Tennessee, I studied the newcomer over a bowl of homemade stew. The gaunt, quiet stranger crammed into the chair opposite me—introduced to me as Milos, no last name—wasn’t what I’d expected. He didn’t say much, but those calculating eyes of his swept the room, assessing every detail.

  Creighton finished his story, then stretched. “Why don’t you two take a walk and talk privately, decide if you’re compatible? I have some paperwork to finish up anyway.”

  Suited me. My compatibility test required whisking Milos away from prying eyes. “Sounds good to me. How about you, Milos? Up for a stroll?”

  Milos inclined his bald head. “Whatever works best for you, Mr. del Rey.”

  Mr. del Rey. I liked that. A formality that conveyed the perfect touch of deference.

  Of course, the real test was yet to come.

  I rose to my feet. “Shall we?”

  We stepped outside into the crisp Rocky Mountain air. Milos trailed a respectful two feet behind me as I led us toward one of the less-used hiking paths that crisscrossed Creighton’s compound. Neither of us spoke as we passed beneath canopies of towering pines, allowing us to enjoy the wind that whistled between the branches and trills from nearby birds.

  After twenty minutes, I stopped in a small clearing. Now for the first part of the test.

  “Because I have some rather…unusual job requirements, I’ll need you to perform a task for me before you start. To ensure that we’re a good fit.”

  I turned to examine Milos’s reaction and tilted my head back in surprise. The man was taller than I’d anticipated, towering over me by several inches. An odd-looking sort, all sharp angles, gawky limbs, and shrew eyes dominating a pale face. Even padded with a winter jacket, he resembled a cadaver.

  Milos nodded. “No problem, Mr. del Rey. What’s the task?”

  “The task is to capture an animal, take it live to your cabin, and get creative. All while keeping Creighton in the dark.”

  I’d planned my wording well. If Milos freaked and tattled to Creighton, what terrible thing could he accuse me of? “Get creative” was open for interpretation.

  Any lingering concern vanished when Milos licked his thin lips and smiled. “Yes, sir. I’ll start right away.”

  The squirrel he’d disassembled bit by bit over the next two days was utter perfection. Staked to the dresser by a hunting knife, the shivering little animal sported round, bloody holes where his eyes used to be, and a stump instead of a tail. The gleam in Milos’s eyes as he inspected his work sealed the deal. We shook hands, and soon after, I sent him on his next mission to ensure his trust.

  A sweet little family.

  He hadn’t hesitated. In fact, Milos had seemed more than a bit disappointed that the family I chose consisted of only a wife and husband along with their three-year-old daughter. And he seemed even more disappointed that I didn’t allow him more time with the girl.

  I was ecstatic and sent him on yet another mission…

  Gabe.

  I shook my head, tickled anew by my stroke of luck. How else could I describe being gifted an assistant so well versed in torture? Endless possibilities stretched before me. Countless ways to make my enemies pay.

  Contemplating the buffet of options now pumped my heart full of pure bliss, and I could almost feel my neurons gobbling up extra doses of serotonin. My stomach growled, as if jealous to be excluded from the party. “Pull off at the nearest place with food so I can grab a snack.” Planning satisfying torture methods required a surprising amount of calories.

  “Of course, Mr. del Ray.” Milos signaled and guided the car onto the next off-ramp. As we idled at the light, he pointed at the far right corner. “That place okay, or too crowded?”

  I followed the direction of his finger to a little A-framed structure surrounded by a packed parking lot. A sign announced The Vancouver Grind, Best Coffee and Muffins in Vancouver. “No, it’s perfect.”

  Milos pulled into the parking lot, gliding around for a minute in search of a spot. One opened up a few yards ahead. Before the car even had a chance to straighten up after backing out, Milos hit the gas. He zoomed the sedan into the open spot, cutting off a white Ford Escape that had been waiting on the opposite side.

  A horn blared, but Milos ignored the commotion. He took his time, backing up and straightening our car like nothing fazed him. But when the angry driver gave up, I noticed a gleam in his eyes as he watched them drive away.

  Milos caught me looking and flashed another one of his predatory grins. “Sorry. It amuses me sometimes to watch people rage ineffectually when they don’t get what they want.”

  I pressed my fingertips together and smiled. Creighton really had outdone himself with his recommendation. “No apologies necessary.”

  “Would you like me to run in for you?”

  I unsnapped my seat belt. “No, I’ll go in too.”

  There was so
mething exhilarating about walking among so many people and knowing not a single one of them would match my new face with the one on the FBI’s Most Wanted list. Simpletons, all of them. They almost made it too easy.

  I also enjoyed the admiring looks my new face elicited from women. Even now, as I strolled up to the coffee shop door, a pair of middle-aged moms in yoga pants and fleece sweatshirts shot me appreciative glances before giggling into each other’s ears. A little too old for my tastes, but I might have made an exception had we not been in the middle of a crowded venue in broad daylight.

  Fifteen minutes later, we were back on the highway. I brushed the last of the apple-cinnamon muffin crumbs off my lap and dabbed at my mouth with a napkin. “Any new developments with Gabe’s little friend? Or little dead friend, I guess I should say.”

  I clucked my tongue. Dear silly Gabe. Had he really believed he could hide a boyfriend from me?

  Milos waited until he changed lanes to respond. “Robert Hall’s body was discovered, and like you predicted, a bunch of YouTube gawkers were on the scene. They’ve already uploaded videos of his corpse to YouTube and other platforms.”

  Oh Gabe, I hope you’ve viewed my little message. Wasn’t it clever, the way I used your boyfriend’s body to deliver my warning?

  As I pictured Gabe glimpsing his boyfriend’s body for the first time, gazing at Rob’s bloody billboard of a chest in horror, my spine tingled and my heart swelled. More than anything, I hoped Gabe was cowering in a corner somewhere, sniveling and heartbroken.

  “You should be heartbroken,” I murmured. “It’s your fault that young Rob had to be sacrificed.”

  “Excuse me, Mr. del Ray? Did you need something?”

  “No. Just humming. It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Half an hour later, Milos pulled off the highway. He navigated the sedan through several turns and down a long, unpopulated road that dead-ended into a large parking lot. Three ugly buildings squatted in a row at the far end, all of them massive and constructed of gray metal. I looked right and then left. Not a soul in sight in any direction. Not even a broken-down car.

  Milos parked in front of the middle building, and I stepped out of the car into a deep quiet. Vast expanses of empty fields stretched in all directions, insulating the area from traffic noise. Milos led the way to a solid steel door and unlocked it.

  From the inside, the warehouse appeared even larger. High vaulted ceilings reached up toward the sky, giving the interior a cavernous feel, like we’d stepped inside the yawning jaw of Pinocchio’s giant whale. Overhead, fluorescent lights glowed, their rectangular shapes speckled with dead moths. Far across the concrete floor sat two offices.

  After inspecting the offices, which were indeed perfect for my needs, I could no longer contain the delight that bubbled up inside me like a mountain creek. I whirled, clapping my hands together. “I’m not one to heap idle praise, but this is excellent work, Milos. This space should more than adequately suit my needs.”

  Milos bowed his head. “I hoped it would. This warehouse used to belong to someone in trafficking. They intended to use it as storage for the mass transport of victims, but they ended up abandoning it. Their loss is our gain.”

  Intriguing. I cocked my head. “How do you know all of that?”

  Milos shrugged, a hint of that shark’s smile tugging at his sharp mouth. “I know many things.”

  A man who didn’t want to reveal his sources. I could appreciate that. Discretion was key in my line of work. So long as Milos understood that I expected nothing less than one-hundred-percent loyalty and his secrets didn’t interfere with my plans, I’d let his caginess slide.

  For now.

  With my hands behind my back, I strolled through the enormous space, enjoying the chill as I inspected little details. Nothing like a little history to invigorate the soul. I sniffed, imagining that over the earthy scent of dust, I could smell the lingering stench of fear left by all those lovely victims. The mottled cement floors beneath my feet appeared clean enough, but when I passed a rusty spot, my mind filled the stain with blood and tears.

  Milos trailed behind me at a respectful distance. I peered into corners, opened doors to electrical closets, in search of a good spot for storing our…guests when we procured them.

  Guests. I snickered at my own little joke and continued my hunt. Finally, tucked away near a side wall, I found it. A cozy little room. Perfect for housing overnight visitors.

  “I need this room prepared for company.” I glanced over my shoulder at Milos, who nodded.

  “Yes, Mr. del Ray. When would you like me to bring Gabe to his room?”

  I smiled, savoring the sweet taste of anticipation. “I’ve been giving the timing a great deal of consideration. Tonight, I say we find a pretty young thing and have ourselves a test run. Before we move on to the main event.”

  Milos cocked his head and lifted a thin eyebrow. With his sunken cheeks, bald head, and deep-set eyes, the expression reminded me of a curious skeleton.

  “I know that might sound odd, but my goal isn’t simply to kill Gabe. If it were, he’d be dead already.”

  As I warmed to my subject, I began bouncing on my heels. “Gabe has caused me a great deal of trouble. It’s only right that I make him pay for every single minute that I’ve suffered at the hands of his betrayal. I took him in, clothed him, gave him a job, and put a roof over his head. For him to turn on me, well, it was very disappointing.”

  Milos nodded. “Anyone would be disappointed under those circumstances.”

  A bitter flavor coated my tongue, erasing the previous sweetness. My bouncing subsided. Replaced by a stillness born of vengeance. “The plan for Gabe is to wait until he’s situated in his new safe house, then lure him out and grab him and bring him back here, for me to play with.”

  Milos’s eyes narrowed, as if he too were appreciating my plan. “I understand. And the others?”

  Ah yes. The others. A slow grin spread across my face. “Oh, never fear, I haven’t forgotten about them. Ellie being in charge of cold cases has given me the perfect means to toy with the little bitch. Did you know what a simple thing it is to research unsolved crimes in Charleston? And I’ve found the perfect case to use to mess with her.”

  I clasped my hands together and released a theatrical sigh. “Poor Danielle Snyder, disappearing all those years ago. How could her father not contact the police when he got the call from a woman claiming to be his long-lost daughter?” I laughed. “This is already turning out to be a real hoot.”

  No reason to tell Milos that I’d picked Danielle’s case for another reason too. That the case represented unfinished business. My smile faded. Back then, I’d ordered another employee named John Garrett to abduct two girls, not one. The imbecile! How he’d managed to accidentally kill one was beyond me. I tsked under my breath. What a waste.

  Roxanne had been such a pretty little thing too. Any buyer would have been thrilled to own the pair of them, but thanks to John’s screwup, my client had been greatly displeased. John’s malfeasance had reflected badly on me, and such a slight I’d never forgiven, nor forgotten.

  But now, providence smiled down upon me, handing me the opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. I’d send Ellie spinning in circles chasing ghosts while also finally claiming revenge on the man who’d cost me far too much in money and reputation.

  Speaking of chasing ghosts… “I think it’s time to make another call to Charles Snyder.”

  Milos rounded his bug-eyes even more and busted out laughing. Great, gaping mouth cackles that shook his angular body and deteriorated into wheezing, all of which accentuated his resemblance to a Halloween skeleton. “Charles Snyder, as in Do You Feel Lucky?” After naming the title, he guffawed again.

  I approved of Milos’s merriment. Hopefully, he wouldn’t turn out to be an utter disappointment like all the others. “Yes, that Charles Snyder. I’m sure he believes the game show he hosts is suspenseful, b
ut I’m certain we can come up with a much better game of our own, don’t you agree?”

  Milos nodded eagerly.

  “Good. Now, why don’t you get started on acquiring our prize for this evening? Who knows how long it will take to find a promising candidate up here.”

  “Yes, Mr. del Ray.”

  As Milos walked away, I turned back toward the room. Empty for now, but not for long. I could already picture Gabe secured inside. Waiting on his chance to be a contestant in my own personal game of Do You Feel Lucky: the life or death version.

  11

  After leaving Charles Snyder’s house, Ellie eased her car to the end of the circular driveway and parked by the curb around the corner. She pulled out her phone to message Carl, who worked in IT back at Charleston PD headquarters. Hopefully, the quirky IT tech would continue his streak of being super helpful with her investigations, even now that Jillian—his longtime crush—was dating Jacob.

  She typed in Elaine Morris—the new name Charles Snyder had given for his ex-wife—and requested that Carl provide her with Elaine’s new address ASAP. She added the phone number of the mystery caller who claimed to be Dani Snyder at the bottom for Carl to research and hit send.

  Ellie opened her GPS and entered a new location before pulling away from the curb. The black SUV fell in behind her. Hopefully, Carl stuck to his record of speedy replies, so that Ellie could head to Elaine’s sooner versus later. In the meantime, there was one more spot in Goose Creek that she wanted to check out before she left.

  Half a mile later, Ellie pulled up to a green field and parked. She climbed out of her Explorer and followed a winding concrete walkway. Chase trailed her by a yard or two, and Ellie knew without looking that the security guard was scanning their surroundings, checking for any hint of danger. The path led them to a play area on the west side, complete with a mini-climbing wall, two circular slides, and a pretend ship. One thing was missing, though. Swings.