McAllister Justice Series Box Set

by Reily Garrett

  Once settled in bed and under the covers, she turned in his arms. “My thoughts keep circling back to that music, Roy.”

  The warmth of her fingers penetrated his thin t-shirt and brought about the normal physical response. His body was on board with her intention, but he recognized her methods of distraction, her approach to keeping darker memories from surfacing. If he couldn’t persuade her to siphon off the recollections a bit at a time, they’d overflow the spillway and drown them both when she buckled under their stress.

  “Sweetheart, is this what you really want, right now?” He cupped her cheeks in the dark and felt the first tears sliding over his thumbs.

  “Damn it, cowboy. I don’t want to remember any more of that shit.”

  “You’re gonna keep it bottled up? Till when?”

  “Till it blows my fucking head off.”

  Tugging her against him stimulated more of a response, his mind unable to quell the physical need. He ignored it.

  “I know you want me.”

  “Abs, I will always want you. So much so that it hurts. I also want you to heal, which is why I’ll only hold you tonight. Intimacy is not synonymous with sex.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever felt closer to you than I do now.”

  Relaxing in his arms, she pulled out more details from her dark experience. He’d waited months for her to expel the horrors of her past. As fate would dictate, it would take many times of delving through past horrors to truly defeat them. The catharsis proved a major step in her moving forward with their lives.

  MORNING SUN filtering through bedroom blinds found Royden curled around Abby’s smaller frame, her back tucked snug against his chest. As usual, her warmth heated him from the inside out and produced the typical morning reaction.

  Their mutual need to connect on a deep emotional level transcended the craving for sex. They’d shared a spiritual joining, a bond formed that could withstand a nuclear blast.

  During the night, he held her after depleting her reserves of remembered horrors. Then they talked about various things, many inconsequential. The normality of it all reinforced his determination to help her achieve and maintain an even keel.

  “Hmm, I can’t wait till this weekend when we go look at puppies. I’ve wanted a dog for a while. Are you sure you don’t mind? Lexi said she’d keep him while I’m working.”

  “I think it’s a great idea. I think every house should boast some extra hair on the floor, pup kisses on the windows, and dog toys to trip over going down the stairs.” He nuzzled the back of her neck before adding. “Seriously, I do like the idea. I’ll make a few calls and see about getting a fence installed.”

  He hadn’t objected when she encouraged Hoover to sleep on the bed and figured his home would soon inherit a pup and all the trials and tribulations of a four-footed kid. Nurturing existed as an integral part of her spirit and he supported the endeavor, happy she decided on a large breed animal.

  She didn’t voice any objections when he took her to work and advised he’d pick her up at the end of her day. Thinning lips and tightened jaw provided the only visible signs of her frustration.

  Without a scheduled court appearance, she had no need to leave the building, which gave him the entire day to work.

  No sooner had he driven away from her office building than his partner’s ring tone wiped away the warm comfort of Abby’s kiss.

  “Yeah, Billy. What’s up?” The hair on his nape pricked as a shudder washed over him. The pause on the other end of the line didn’t bode well.

  “Matt and I are over at Abby’s place. Meet us around back.”

  The connection clicked off before Royden could respond. Damned cryptic McAllisters.

  No one ever accused him of having a lead foot, but enlightenment came with understanding how Matt must’ve felt for years. Keeping up with five siblings couldn’t have been easy. He had trouble with one partner and one woman.

  In the complex’s lot, he noted the crime scene van taking up two slots. Beside it, the coroner’s government vehicle took up another. McAllister work units occupied four more. Matt’s overprotective streak didn’t warrant the van plus the ME.

  A cold chill passed over his body, his heartbeat sluggish.

  The coffee from breakfast turned to sludge in his gut. He didn’t have to see the approaching horror to know it existed, especially after finding the stethoscope on Abby’s balcony. Whatever occurred, they were keeping it quiet over the radio, using phones instead. The media circus would find them soon enough.

  Larrick, Ethan’s partner, waited against a dark sedan. “Royden, that was quick.” A slight southern draw colored his tone.

  “What’s up? What’d you find?” Royden scanned the quiet street as a matter of habit.

  “Follow me. Matt returned with Damien at daybreak to extend his search.” Larrick shoved off the vehicle and followed the trampled path hugging the side of the building. His subdued aura and rounded shoulders preempted further questions.

  The complex employed a key card system to enter the main structure. Video surveillance at each corner of the six-apartment structure along with another camera center front and center back caught foot traffic coming and going.

  If the stalker altered the system, why didn’t Lexi pick that up? A subtle conversation in front of the family’s hacker would determine if someone compromised surveillance before the department’s techs could sift through evidence. Considering the attempts on Abby’s life had yielded only one definitive clue proved the killer an intelligent and careful individual. Everybody makes mistakes at some point.

  “Ethan said you were here when Abby called last night.”

  “I’d parked at the far edge of the lot. It gave me visual access to the front and along one side. A uniform parked on the other side. Since the back entails such rough terrain, it didn’t seem plausible for anyone to come from that angle.”

  “Well, I doubt the remaining cameras picked up much either. Someone busted the one out back. We found glass on the ground around the pole, from the lens.”

  “Abby thought the apartment’s fence offered a layer of protection.” Rounded finials capping the pickets and posts of the wrought iron barrier made it easier for someone to climb over it. The five-foot decorative enclosure wasn’t designed to keep out humans.

  “She knows better,” Larrick murmured. “She’s in denial.”

  After circling to the rear, Royden’s gaze fastened to the strip of grass bordering the woods. A large square of yellow crime scene tape cordoned off what was sure to become Royden’s newest nightmare.

  Opportunistic weeds and various grasses covered the area, lush with spring growth. The emerging vegetation contrasted the small pile of earth beside the hole. Damien sat quietly by the yellow and black barrier.

  A tech dusted the handle of the short, metal ground stake that marked off a twelve-foot square area while another worked a grid pattern to cover the interior.

  “We’re finished with everything but the grave and its contents.” The young tech shook her head. “I hate psychotic pricks.”

  Before stepping over the tape, Royden viewed a tragic scene that would haunt his sleep for months. “Dammit to hell.” Further words were lost as he moved away and emptied his stomach.

  “We didn’t miss this last night. He dug this hole after we left.” Matt looked up and gestured Royden to keep his distance. “We’ve got this one, but we will have more questions and we’ll need a statement. Officially, you’re off the case until ID is confirmed.”

  Royden didn’t want to approach, knowing in his heart what he’d find. His ex-girlfriend, the woman he’d once thought of as his forever, didn’t deserve this fate. Nausea churned his stomach. It took several deep breaths to find his voice. “So that’s what the shovel dangling against the balcony indicated. I thought it stated his prediction for Abby, a warning.” Royden closed his eyes. Please no. Don’t let this be Charlee. Yet, he had to know. Neither McAllister tried to stop him.

&nb
sp; When he crouched down to examine the grave’s occupant, sunlight glittered off a ring sitting on the sternum of the skeleton. “The last time I saw her, she was going into the pub.”

  To the side, Lucas and his brothers stood in a semi-circle, deep in conversation while the ME examined the evidence.

  Rage built inside him at the implication of what Abby could have faced during her terror. He didn’t intend for her to find out. It would only shake her confidence. “Fuck. He intended to bury her after what? What exactly did he do here? I can’t wait to get hold of the motherfucker!”

  Caden jerked his attention away from his current conversation. “Yeah, this sonofabitch is asking for a piece of lead between his eyes.”

  Agreement from Ethan, Lucas, and Billy came in the form of nods and murmured confirmation. Matt briefly squeezed his eyes shut before murmuring. “That’s not all. Take a look inside.” He sidestepped as a photographer took pictures from a different angle.

  Dizziness threatened Royden’s composure, held by a tenuous grasp of reality. The closer he got, the more descriptive the scene became.

  The killer had dug a two-by-six foot grave two feet deep, barely enough to cover a body, but would suffice even with the skull lying next to the victim’s chest. A small baggie half-full of sallow yellow liquid sat in a skeletal hand.

  Bleached white bones contrasted the soil on which they lay, which was intact except for the head. The killer left a small amount of skin on the skull. From it, a lock of wavy long black hair draped through the skeleton’s ribcage.

  Deep breaths staved off the round of dry heaves threatening to erupt. Royden kept his gaze on the distant horizon and concentrated on a mental flashback of holding Abby safe and secure in his arms.

  When he obtained control over bodily functions, he studied the grave once more. It appeared the excavator had taken great care to make the hole uniform, the sides even and the interior level for the sole occupant.

  “Soil’s fresh dug.” Caden stepped up beside Royden, gesturing to the pile beside the grave.

  “Doc—” Matt hunkered down for a closer look. “Is that cinnamon I smell?”

  “Yeah, there’re a bunch of cinnamon sticks all around the skeleton. The killer took care to tuck them just under the bones, but I think some of the bones have been, well, saturated with cinnamon oil.”

  “For what reason? What affect?” Matt asked.

  “Let me know when you find him. I’ve seen a lot of shit in the ME’s office, but never anything like this.”

  Matt made it to the edge of the sectioned off area and took a deep breath while Billy and Ethan remained statue still, their faces tinged with green and dotted with sweat.

  “Jesus. We have got to nail this asshole quick,” Billy growled the words with closed eyes and a hand held to his forehead.

  When Royden’s sanity retuned, a coldness settled soul deep. He’d never contemplated murder before, but if the killer survived, eventually he’d get Abby, directly or through an intermediary.

  “She’s not been ravaged by the elements somewhere else then dumped here,” the ME explained as he lifted a brow at the photographer.

  “Yeah, I got enough. All yours.”

  “Considering the skull is detached, how do you know the victim is even a female and not a male body with a female head?” Matt tended to be thorough.

  “Because of the pelvis, for one thing. I can’t say the skull belongs to the body, but I’ll tell you one way or another after examination in the lab.”

  “Front of the line.” Matt’s request sounded like an order.

  “Yes. As an estimate, I’d say he removed all skin, muscle, and organs then boiled the bones, except for the skull.

  “Why?” Royden looked to Matt for an answer, a plea to understand chaos.

  “Maybe to give a preview of what he intended for Abby.” Matt took a deep breath and scrubbed a rough hand over his face.

  “If so, he didn’t intend to take Abby last night. He knew the shovel would lead us to search the area and find this. He’s toying with us.” Royden mentally counted to ten, then twenty, then fifty. Nothing could make sense of what he witnessed. “What does the note say?”

  Between the skeleton’s fingers, a folded sheet of thick paper fluttered in the breeze. A black fog hazed Royden’s vision as the ME opened the message, a picture. The photo was of Abby from two weeks prior when Royden had taken her out to dinner. He remembered running his hands through her hair, left down and free-flowing in the breeze.

  Macon sighed before he read the block writing across the top, “Abby’s next. See what little sister has to look forward to? Can’t wait to see her in the vat.”

  “Jesus. This can’t be happening.” Matt turned away with hands on his hips. “He boiled the body.”

  “What’s with the cream soup looking stuff?” Larrick, mostly quiet until now, turned to the ME.

  “Maybe the killer’s pointing to specific details. Maybe he’s bragging. I don’t know. But when you boil bones versus letting them simmer, you get emulsified fat that gives it a creamy look.” Macon pointed to the small baggie containing a thick liquid. “Like that.”

  “I’ll know more once I’ve examined her.” The ME shook his head. “She’s only been here a few hours. There are a few blowflies present on the scalp remnants. No doubt, someone entering the dog park on the building’s side would’ve noticed this if she were here yesterday. Either that or seen it from their second- or third-floor balcony.”

  “I interviewed a third-floor tenant last night.”

  “If the skull belongs to the rest of the skeleton,” The older man bent to examine the victim’s head, “that would fit, given the atmospheric conditions.”

  Caden frowned and tilted his head. “Macon, how do you know the skeleton is that of a female?”

  Royden closed his eyes on a prayer. None of them wanted to admit the truth. The killer stalked Abby in the most brutal, horrific way, physically and mentally.

  “Look at the pelvis. The bones are shorter, more rounded, wider subpubic angle. Males don’t have a ventral arc. This is a female skeleton and skull, though I can’t swear they belong together without microscopic examination.”

  “I see etch marks on the vertebra here.” Macon pointed to the uppermost small bone. “I’ll match it in the lab, and we’ll give you a make on the weapon.”

  “Ethan?” A short, dark-haired man in a Tyvek jumpsuit signaled to the group. “I’m done here and will take the rope and shovel in for examination.” The tech used large paper bags wrapped around the tool to best preserve DNA.

  “Any prints?” Royden asked.

  “No. But they’ll take a closer look at the lab. Can’t hazard a guess what they’ll find in the way of DNA.”

  “Approximate age?” Billy asked, turning back to the ME.

  “Once we x-ray, I’ll check epiphyseal gaps. In other words, I’ll see if the ends of the bone shafts are fused to short bone caps. Each fuses at different stages and helps to determine the victim’s age.”

  Normal gallows humor failed to appear with the high stakes involved. No doubt, each McAllister envisioned Abby in the grave with some mocking memento clenched within a tight fist.

  “Well?” Matt didn’t need to explain his impatience for timing.

  The ME’s somber voice carried on the morning air. A sidelong glance and he continued, “I’ll have something for you as soon as I can. I normally work to learn the how and the who but not the why. You want to explain how Abby is involved?”

  “We don’t know. At this point, we just don’t know.” Royden cringed with his words, realizing only time and a determined family separated Abby from a like fate. In the eleventh hour, he needed to delve into the mind of the monster and pray it didn’t consume him.

  Chapter Twenty

  Successive deep breaths couldn’t release the day’s strain as Royden thumbed the lock on the kitchen door. The ride from Abby’s office had been quiet. She’d quizzed him twice about what bother
ed him, then remained quiet, as if sensing his need for introspection

  He had to tell her about Charlotte, yet couldn’t bring himself to start the conversation. The love he’d felt for Charlee had long since transformed into the type of bond one shared by close friends and family. He should have seen tragedy coming.

  “Have a seat and unwind. I’ve got a roast ready to stick in the oven, and I’ll pour us a glass of wine.” Royden watched the tension melt from her shoulders, something she probably didn’t realize she carried.

  “That sounds wonderful. Thanks.” Hoover curled up on the sofa beside her. “It’s amazing how someone’s entire demeanor changes with the presence of a dog, isn’t it?”

  “I thought you could use a pick-me-up. And state law allows trained service dogs to accompany owners into public buildings. She certainly collected her due of oohs and aahs from your colleagues.” The shaggy shepherd mix had drawn others close with doggy grins and loveable demeanor. Tension in the air had dropped and smiles multiplied.

  “I thought I’d choke when she curled her lip at my supervisor. She’s a damn good judge of character, as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Yeah, Mitzie said your popularity increased ten-fold after Brad stomped off.” Royden closed the oven and set the time.

  “Mind if I start a fire?”

  It was still cool enough outside that the gas fireplace would add a certain coziness. Since the ensuing conversation would double the weight of her burden, he’d accept help from any angle. “Sure, go ahead.”

  Confirmation of Charlee’s death came in the form of dental records and soon DNA would confirm it. If not for the previous attempts on Abby’s life, she’d be a prime suspect in the doctor’s murder. As it stood, his captain wasn’t thrilled with the McAllisters banding around her instead of placing her in protective custody, not that he could stop them. He’d known the brothers long enough to understand how they operated and couldn’t remand a potential victim to a safe house.

  Abby would never forgive him if she found out from the evening news about the horror discovered behind her apartment. Though she had nothing to do with the doctor’s death, she would carry the loss of life on her conscience.