Scarlet Angel (Page 9)
“Every form of martial arts I could squeeze in. From Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, to American Karate, to Colombian Grima, to Taekwando, to Bokator, to Krav Maga… You get the idea. I’ve gotten various black belts in an array of martial arts. Not to mention the weapons’ training I’ve mastered—knife throwing being one. You learn discipline over your mind with each new form of fighting or training. You learn control. It made me stronger mentally, physically, and emotionally.”
She wipes away another tear, then sucks in a sharp breath.
“Then let’s hope it keeps you sane enough to finish without hurting anyone who doesn’t deserve to be hurt. I don’t know if I can handle more guilt.”
I start to leave, then turn back to face her. “You tried to tell people when you were a child. Those people failed you. They failed those kids, and they warped your young, impressionable mind into believing you made it all up. Everything that has happened since then is not your fault. It’s on them. They may not deserve to die for their failures the way he deserved worse than death, but they do deserve to bear that guilt. Call your mother. Give her the burden to bear. Call that therapist, give her all the nasty details of his sins. Call the police station that ignored the cries of a child in pain. Only they deserve the weight of that failure. Not you.”
She sucks in a breath as I turn to leave.
“How’d you get that big bastard out of the basement and up that big-ass hill?”
The question is so random that it makes me smile. “I’m stronger than I look,” I say, looking over my shoulder. “But it wasn’t fucking easy.”
Her brittle smile toward the morbid humor is almost like a peace treaty. We’re not going to be besties or anything, but we have an understanding.
“Tell Logan I’ll be there in five,” she says as I walk out.
As soon as I’m out the door, I text Jake.
ME: Calling in twenty. We need to adjust our timeframes. I have some catching up to do.
Chapter 6
To do a great right, do a little wrong.
—William Shakespeare
LOGAN
We can barely stay in the cellar, because the air is perfumed with the scent of two rotting corpses.
“He’s getting bolder by killing them two at a time,” Elise says, gagging even as she soaks in the clean air from above. “Escalating his torture by making them watch each other.”
The bodies are already gone, since they cut them down from the chains once we arrived and saw the scene. But it’s still toxic down there. Hadley is with the coroner, possibly carrying around a garbage can to puke in.
The stench is overwhelming.
“All the other’s he’s left in their homes to be discovered quickly. Why the shift? It’s a risk to kidnap one and drive them all the way from New York to West Virginia,” Leonard says, battling his own nausea.
It’s hard to take in the scene down there, considering it needs to air out for several days before it’s tolerable.
“He’s chasing his endgame, but it’s obvious these two really pissed him off. Yet there were still no signs of rage,” I say absently.
Hadley’s name flashes on my screen, and I answer the phone, putting it on speaker.
“What do you have?” I ask her.
“Well, their mouths were sewed shut, as you know, but when we opened them, we found the missing penises.”
Leonard gags and turns away, and my stomach roils as well.
“That’s…definitely an escalation,” Elise says, her leg in a brace and her arm in a sling as she struggles with the crutches, still refusing a wheelchair.
“That’s not the worst part,” Hadley goes on. “I took blood samples from their mouths, and…Tyler was O positive. Lawrence was AB positive. I found O positive blood in Lawrence’s mouth, and AB positive blood in Tyler’s.”
“Wait, hold up, are you telling me he sewed Tyler’s dick into Lawrence’s mouth, and vice versa?” Donny asks, turning an alarming shade of pale.
“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“I can’t tell if he’s evolving or devolving,” Elise gripes.
“He’s definitely suffering a psychotic break if he’s getting more stuck on the torture,” Leonard says with a grimace.
“No,” I say thoughtfully. “These two did something together that pissed the unsub off recently. We couldn’t find any footage of the unsub, but Tyler’s credit card showed a trip to New York recently. Maybe they met to discuss the deaths of the others, even though it hadn’t made the news. If the unsub followed them, maybe heard their conversation, it could have led to this double kill and extra layer of torture.”
“That’s still a psychotic break,” Donny argues.
“No, it’s not. There has yet to be any rage found with the overkill. The torture is punishment. It’s to prolong the deaths. This unsub is targeting the ones who wronged him, and he’s punishing them accordingly, at least in his mind. If they crossed a line, he’d punish them more severely than he’s been punishing the others.”
I pause, letting them soak that in as I get lost in my own thoughts.
“We need more info on that serial killer—Robert Evans,” I tell Donny.
Hadley makes a strangled sound, reminding me she’s still on the phone.
“You okay, Had?”
“Yep. Yep. Fine,” she says quickly.
“See what else you can get from the bodies. Email me the final report, but call me immediately if something else stands out.”
“Will do.”
She hangs up, and Donny frowns. “She’s acting weird.”
“Her stepfather abused her as a child, she was convinced it was all in her head, and other kids died after she ran away. Couple that with the fact she was almost a victim of Plemmons, and she has every right to be weird,” I remind him.
“How’s Lana holding up?” Craig asks me as I start typing a message into my phone.
“Much better than I could have hoped. She’s a hell of a lot tougher than I gave her credit for being.”
“That’s good. I was actually worried. I remember the first time I had to shoot someone. It’s the reason I went into this field—less need for violence.”
I nod, understanding. It was hard on me the first two times, even though I saved many by taking down those two monsters. Didn’t alleviate the nightmares. Fortunately, Lana’s dreams don’t seem to be haunted by those memories. She’s fucking incredibly strong.
And it makes me love her even more.
“Plan a trip to Delaney Grove. This unsub would be remembered if we painted a picture of the two Evans kids who were killed.”
“There was nothing about that ever mentioned in their police reports,” Craig says quietly. “This town is trying to act like the Evans family never even existed. The coroner who wrote that bullshit report on Robert Evans is either dead or playing dead. No phone calls have been returned.”
“All the more reason to pay a visit in person.”
He nods.
“And deliver the profile to the media. Mention there was something traumatic that might have happened to the Evans kids that didn’t sit well with a close friend or family member.”
“No family left. It was just the three of them. And the only friends were the lawyer dad and his son,” Donny points out.
“We’ll pay them a visit, but keep looking. Lindy May was a friend. I’m sure there were others we just don’t know about.”
He nods, and I walk toward my car, texting Lana as I go.
ME: May be late before I get back tonight.
LANA: I may have to take a business trip today. I’ve been putting it off and piling it all on my partner. Boogeyman is gone, and now so is the threat to my life.
ME: What about the reporters?
LANA: They don’t know about the hotel, and my business is in Kentucky. I’m driving there in a rental car just to be safe.
ME: Then I’ll miss you. ?
LANA: I’ll be back first thing tomorrow. <3
I put my phone away, hating how possessive I feel. I want to keep her locked away and under me every chance I get. It’s selfish. It’s ridiculous. It’s also a little criminal.
“Just got another body from our night stalking killer,” Donny says, sighing harshly. “I think these guys get together to kill at the same time just to stretch our resources thin.”
He hands me the iPad with the photos, and something catches my eye. It’s not the picture, but the notes. Traces of Siberian tiger fur. “I know who the killer is,” I tell him, grabbing my phone. “Call the local PD and tell them to pick up the brother of the first victim. I profiled it to be him, but they ruled him out. Now I know it’s him. He’s a taxidermist for exotic animals.”
“Holy shit,” Donny hisses, grabbing his phone as I jog to my SUV.
I love it when they make it easy, and I’m one step closer to catching my Delaney Grove killer too.
Hadley calls back just as I reach the SUV, and I answer, wedging the phone between my shoulder and cheek as I crank the car and let Donny get in the passenger seat.
“You found something?”
“Sort of. The coroner found a nail in Lawrence’s stomach. I’m not sure what that’s about, but I thought it was worth mentioning,” she says.