Jesus. Jack was going kick the sick fuck’s face in.
“One of the carers was different. She didn’t think we were all monsters. I liked her. Perhaps loved her. I called her mère once. Mother. She cried. The others never cried for us. She smuggled in movies, and a little DVD player. The movies were dubbed into different languages. Only one of them was in French, and it became my favourite. Toy Story.”
Trying for levity, Jack said, “I prefer Finding Nemo.”
“That one was in Japanese. Perhaps we could watch it in English.”
“Sounds good.”
Ethan smiled, then lost it as he continued. “Two found me one day, watching the movie. He sat with me and watched it. He cuddled me, and laughed and sang, and I thought that was how it would always be with us. When the movie was over, he punched and kicked me until I couldn’t get away.” He sat in a chair and lifted his left foot. “While I was helpless, he wrote his name on the sole of my foot.” Off came his shoe and sock, then he held up his foot for Jack to see. “With a knife.”
Jack cradled Ethan’s foot in his hands. There, neatly lettered, was “TWO” in thick white scar tissue.
“Two always felt as if he couldn’t control me. I had experience none of them did. It made me question everything, including Two’s command of the others. I believe he thought that if he wrote his name on me, I would be his.”
“And they let him get away with this?”
Ethan put his sock and shoe back on. “When it got infected, they took me to the infirmary.”
“And Two? Was he punished?”
“What for? I was the weak one.”
“Jesus fucking shit. Ethan—” He couldn’t finish the thought. It was too much to get a handle on in one go.
“I survived, Jack, and I’m here now. Not quite right, but getting better.” He stood and touched Jack’s arm tentatively. “And I may know where Two has Adam.”
The rest of the night passed in quiet bliss. Jack returned the blowjob heartily, and they messed around in the shower before tumbling into bed to sleep wound around each other. When he woke, Ethan was sprawled beside him, comatose and drooling. Jack kissed his neck, got up, dressed in fresh clothes Ethan had brought to the penthouse for him, and left a note saying he would be back after work.
He was getting out of the taxi at the Oaks where he’d left his bike when his implant pinged.
“Where are you?” Lewis asked when Jack answered.
“On my way to work. Why?” Right then, his phone for the job started vibrating in his back pocket. Hauling it out, he found several missed calls from the police and Adam. “What’s happened?”
“We only found out this morning,” Lewis said wearily. “Because this isn’t a high-priority case anymore, we don’t have a nightshift or we would have heard sooner.”
“Just tell me.” Jack stalked to his bike and slung his leg over the seat.
“There’s been another death. Brenna Luntz.” Lewis rattled off information that could have been copied almost word for word from the Williams file.
“As terrible as it is, this means they’ll have to start up Infinity again,” Jack said. “I have missed calls from Quinn I should listen to. I’ll let you know what happens.”
He cut the call and then listened to Adam’s messages. The first couple were calm, just asking Jack to call back. The next two were a bit more worried, and the last one was a terse demand for Jack to go to the LAC when he finally got the messages. Jack kicked the bike into motion and when he got there, he found Adam outside waiting for him.
“About time, Nishant. Do you sleep like the dead or something?”
“Had my phone on silent. Keep your knickers on. As sad as it is, you can’t save her now, but hopefully we’ll catch her killer this time.”
Adam glared at him. “That’s not what’s got me upset. Well, it has, but also something else. Come on, let’s get in there before the detective blows a gasket.”
Grumbling all the way, Adam led him in through the front doors. Newly implemented security measures meant “support personnel” such as Adam no longer got free range on the premises, and he never let Jack forget it. One of the detectives on the investigative team came to fetch them from the foyer and escort them, not to Infinity’s old base, but an interview room on the first floor.
“What’s this all about?” Jack asked as the detective directed him into one room and Adam into another.
“Just routine, Mr. Reardon. Please take a seat. I won’t be long.”
Jack went in quietly, and while he waited, he called Lewis and silently filled him in. The only reason Lewis could come up with for Jack’s current situation was that he was now a suspect. Neither of them had come up with anything else by the time the detective came back.
“Sorry for the wait.” He smiled faintly as he sat opposite Jack. “Like I said before, this is just routine procedure. You were involved with Strike Force Infinity, and now that there’s been another death, we just like to touch base with everyone. Make sure you’re all okay.”
Jack wasn’t sure he believed the man but said, “I’m fine, thanks for caring. Does this mean Infinity’s been reinstated?”
“We’re just waiting on confirmation from the superintendent. Infinity will be up and running by lunchtime.”
“Good. I’ll put a request in to my boss at the ISO to come back and help.” He knew it would be approved.
“That would be great, sir. I know Dr. Quinn finds you invaluable. Now, last night. We couldn’t get in touch with you, and you weren’t home.”
“So?”
The detective frowned at his tone. “As I said, sir, this is just routine. Dr. Quinn and Senior Sergeant Phelps have been asked the same questions. In situations like this, we need to know where everyone who’s involved in the investigation is at any time. If we’d been able to reach you through the night, this would be over and we could all be looking for the killer now.”
It was a load of crock. “Unless you’re arresting me, I don’t have to tell you anything.”
“That’s true, Mr. Reardon, but for your own safety, it would be best if you’d let us know how we can contact you in case of emergency in the future. Or where we can find you.”
“Sure.” Jack gave him his most insincere smile.
Realising his subterfuge wasn’t working, the detective let him out and escorted him and an impatient Adam back to Infinity’s base.
“That wasn’t routine, was it?” Jack asked, when they were safely inside and alone.
“Not as far as I’m aware.”
“Shit. They’re checking our alibis. Why would they be checking our alibis?”
Adam shrugged. “I’m sure Connors has his reasons. Look, Infinity’s back on track, so let’s just concentrate on that.”
They spent a while getting the room back to how it had been, waiting for Steph to show up and officially get them going again.
“You said something else had you upset,” Jack said when they were done. “What is it?”
“Nothing. It was silly.”
Jack cocked an eyebrow at him.
Adam wavered, then muttered, “Rich ended it between us.”
It took Jack a moment to equate Rich with Constable Toomey. “Oh. Why?”
“Apparently I’m too controlling in bed.”
Hiding his relief, Jack patted his shoulder. “I’m sorry, mate. It’s probably for the best, though.”
“Told you it was stupid.” Adam scowled at the ceiling. “He was just a fling. A scratching post. But there was something about him. He could be charismatic. Really attentive. And a bit submissive. I thought he wanted to be controlled.”
“Maybe he doesn’t know what he wants.”
“Didn’t you say I knew what everyone wanted and used it to my advantage?”
“When I was angry.”
Adam grimaced. “That’s usually when the things we really believe come out. Maybe it means I’m not that good at my job after all. I couldn’t find the Jud
ge before he killed again. Couldn’t give Rich whatever it was he wanted. Couldn’t convince you to give me a chance.” He shook his head. “I know, I know. You have Mr. Crazy Pants.”
“You’re a good guy. Smart, fun, sexy. Just because Toomey couldn’t see that doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you.”
Eyes rolling, Adam said, “Gosh, thanks for the pep talk. I know all that, and yeah, I’ll find someone one day. Or maybe a couple of someones. Or a lot of someones. Yeah. A lot would be nice.”
Jack laughed. Nothing much kept Adam down when he was up.
Steph arrived a couple of minutes later, and when the reunion was over, she cracked the whip and got them working on the incoming reports from the Luntz scene. Adam immediately started adding things to his profile, just little notes and questions, but he seemed energized by it, as if he’d never doubted himself. And maybe he could fool himself into thinking that, but Jack had seen a spark of honesty in his eyes when he’d spoken about his doubt. Jack just hoped it was a fleeting moment.
By the end of the day, Jack had a massive headache and couldn’t say for sure if anything he had done had helped at all. He hadn’t experienced the initial flood of information from a fresh crime scene before, and the rate of flow and amount of it had sent him reeling. Adam and Steph had thrived on it, exchanging rapid-fire theories and ideas that changed in an instant when a new piece of evidence was uncovered.
At the end of the day, Jack extracted a promise from Adam that he would go back to his suite at some stage, then went to Bathurst Street. Feeling a little self-conscious, Jack went up to the penthouse, still not quite believing the place existed, or that Ethan called it “their” place. Ethan was doing tai chi in the middle of the living area when Jack walked in, and, needing the soothing calm, Jack changed and joined him. He was feeling better when Ethan served up a plate of seared salmon and Spanish rice for dinner.
“I hope it’s all right,” Ethan said as he sat opposite Jack.
“It’s brilliant.”
“You must have had a hard day.”
Jack washed down a mouthful with cold beer and said, “Yeah. Things got official again today. The Judge killed another person last night.”
Ethan froze. “He did?”
“Woman. Twenty-three years old. He broke into her home and, God, he’s just a sick fuck. The only good thing is it’s made them start up Infinity again, and hopefully this time, they’ll catch him.” Jack pushed the rice around his plate, not so hungry anymore. “Hopefully in the crossfire.”
“This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
It took a moment, but the whispered words finally got through to Jack. “What?”
White eyes met his for a moment, then Ethan stood and stalked away.
Jack got up but couldn’t quite make his feet follow Ethan. “What did you say?”
Just as he had on those nights Jack found him uncommunicative and distant, Ethan stared out of the window, positioned so no one could see him from the outside.
“Do you know something?” Jack couldn’t believe it. No way would Ethan keep something like that to himself. He’d listened to Jack agonise over this bloody job, so he knew just how much they needed every bit of information they could get. Jack must have misheard. “Ethan? What the hell did you say?”
“Nothing, Jack. It wasn’t important. Just a random thought.”
This wasn’t happening. Not again.
“Don’t lie to me, Ethan.”
“Then I won’t.”
And he didn’t, by the simple means of not talking at all. Jack demanded answers and got nothing at all in return, just cold silence and no eye contact. When Jack was angry enough to ignore the no-touching mien, Ethan broke his hold with a swift move and backed away. Jack couldn’t get close enough to touch after that.
“For fuck’s sake, Ethan,” Jack snapped after nearly half an hour of pointless questions. “This psycho is killing innocent people.”
“Like I do, Jack?”
The first thing Ethan said in all that time, and it brought all of Jack’s fears about how closely Ethan’s history resembled that of a serial killer.
“Not anymore, right?”
“Not anymore,” Ethan murmured, so far away Jack barely heard it and hoped he only imagined the loss and regret he heard in the words.
“Jesus Christ.” Jack rubbed his hands over his face. “I’m talking to an assassin about a serial killer. No wonder I don’t understand what the hell you’re saying.”
When he looked at Ethan again, he only found empty eyes and a blank expression. He’d pushed too much, sent Ethan right back into stone-cold killer mode. And right then, Jack wasn’t sure he cared.
“Just tell me what you know, Blade.” He used the name to make sure Ethan knew he meant business. “Or I walk out and don’t come back.”
Nothing. No reaction.
Shit. Jack was going to have to make good on his promise. He gave Ethan several more minutes, then couldn’t justify wasting any more time.
“Fine. I don’t think I’ve left anything here. See you round, Blade.”
Jack turned and walked towards the door. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Ethan was letting him go.
“Look at them separately.”
Thank Christ. Jack turned slowly. “Pardon?”
Ethan hadn’t moved, hadn’t changed expression. “The victims. Look at them as two groups, not one.” Then he retreated into the main bedroom, closing the door behind him.
Relief evaporated like a drop of water in the desert. Ethan had given him something—albeit vague—but hadn’t asked him to stay. Or to come back. Or to forgive him. Did he think he had nothing to feel guilty about? Anger surging, Jack spun on his heel and left. He made sure to slam the heavy steel door behind him.
No one stopped Jack and Ethan from leaving the Office. Ethan had assured Jack taking a strike team would only ensure Adam’s death, if he wasn’t already dead, and Jack trusted him. They took the stairs down to the garage and found Victoria where they’d left her, Jack’s arsenal still in the footwell of the passenger seat. Within moments, they were back on the street.
“Where are we going?” Jack asked.
“I was hoping you’d know.”
Jack groaned. “You said you knew.”
“I said I may know. It depends on you, though. It was something Two said during one of our . . . discussions. He said you couldn’t possibly love me because you hadn’t taken me to your special spot.”
Stumbling over the L-word, it took Jack a moment to analyse the rest of the sentence. When he did, he frowned. “Special spot? I don’t have a special spot. Did he say anything else?”
“Only that you went there to think and cry.”
Jack racked his brain. Two had obviously been stalking him over the past several weeks, so where had he gone to think and cry? The only time he’d almost cried in public had been at—
“Oh shit. I know where he is.”
Ethan settled into his seat, focusing grimly on the street ahead of them. “Good. Which way?”
Jack gave Ethan directions, and within fifteen minutes, they were at Middle Head. Ethan turned the headlights off as they cruised into the carpark. The site was completely dark. The lights had all been broken.
“We all have issues with our eyes,” Ethan said softly as they gathered their weapons. “Two’s are the worst, though. He wears contacts all the time because he is severely short-sighted. Even corrective lenses don’t compensate fully. He’s useless with guns and prefers hand to hand, and will always have many knives on him. Don’t close with him, Jack. He’s far better than I am.”
“His night vision?”
“Not good, but he’ll have NV gear.”
“Of course he will. Right. Let’s do this.”
Jack led the way, his Austeyr at the ready, Ethan on his six with the Assassin X sniper rifle. Instead of taking the main path, Jack veered them onto a walking track that led into the trees. He knew they probably wouldn’t be able to
sneak around Two. The man had worked out this place was special to Jack, so he would know that Jack was very familiar with it. Two wouldn’t be waiting for them to come down the main path to the fortifications. Perhaps they were walking into a trap, but Ethan assured Jack Two would take every chance he could to play with them first.
The track wound through the trees, making the dark deeper and thicker, the wind in the leaves covering any noises their quarry might make, as well as their own. Swiftly, they came up to the first of the ruins, an old gun emplacement, sunk into the ground to hide it from the enemy on the water. Jack went down into it. Exploring the fort during the day was fun and thrilling. In the middle of the night, looking for a certifiable psycho, was something else entirely. Wishing they’d had time to stop for smokes, Jack moved cautiously, approaching corners warily, scanning every square inch through the NV sight on his rifle. The green hued cement looked eerie in the little green circle, but the space was clear. Even what he could see through the bars on the gate across the entrance to the tunnels.
“We clear?” he hissed to Ethan, who’d stayed on the surface and followed Jack’s progress while scanning the area around the emplacement.
“Clear.”
Jack pressed up against locked gate and called softly, “Adam?” He had no real expectation of finding Adam here, but he couldn’t dismiss it entirely. “Quinn? It’s Nishant.” Nothing.
They moved on to the next emplacement and repeated the process, with similar results. It took them nearly an hour to reach the outer fort, which was much larger than the individual emplacements, but they cleared it as well.
The longer Two failed to appear, the more Jack wondered if he was wrong. Ethan, too, questioned him with raised brows. There was nowhere else Jack had gone over the past month that was significant, though. And once he’d accepted that, he couldn’t deny it anymore.
Moving closer to Ethan, he whispered in his ear, “I think I know where they are.”
Ethan’s white eyes gleamed in the dark as he studied Jack. “All right. Tell me.”
Why the Devil Stalks Death Page 29