by Kylie Brant
“He wanted me to go to his place. Said we’d have to drive awhile to get there. I wasn’t born yesterday, so I said no way. It was a sticking point with him. He argued awhile but finally agreed to meet me at a motel I use.”
Cady’s skin prickled at the retelling. “He tied me up. Gagged me. At first I thought he was just into kink, but he was like a possessed animal. He got off on my pain, and there was plenty of it. If I fought, he’d beat me. And before the night was over, he’d choked me so hard, I passed out. Then I’d come to, and he’d do it again. I never expected to live to see morning—that’s the honest-to-God truth. When he was finished, he dressed and walked out. Never paid the rest of the money like he said, but I didn’t even care. I was alive.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you.” Cady’s throat was tight. Erotic asphyxiation, Michael Simmons had said. He liked to watch. She was certain Angela was right. The woman had been lucky to walk away alive the next day.
“I couldn’t work for a week. Even then, I had bruises for a month. That’s good for business.”
“Did he give you his name?” When the woman shook her head, Cady pressed on. “Was this other man with him? Maybe in the bar that night?”
Angela exhaled a thin stream of smoke and leaned forward to take another look at the picture of Loomer. “If he was, I didn’t notice him.”
“Did you see the man who hurt you again after that?”
She nodded. “A few times.”
Miguel pulled out a notebook. “Can you remember where?” The woman reeled off four locations, and he jotted them down.
“I warned the girls about him. This line of work, we gotta watch out for ourselves. But it didn’t do no good.” She looked away for a long minute. Her throat worked. “’Bout a year later, a friend of mine went with him. Twice. And after the second time, I never saw her again.”
Women in Angela’s line of work were often transient. But even knowing that didn’t dampen Cady’s interest. “What’s your friend’s name?”
“Marcy Linton. She was from somewhere in the northeast. Don’t know how she landed down here. First time she was with him was about two and a half years ago. She didn’t have no problems. Said he wanted to take her to his place next time. Somewhere in the mountains.”
“Where’d she meet him?”
“There’s a travel stop north of here. Moe’s. Not one of them chain places. Gets a lot of semi traffic.” The cigarette had been smoked down to the stub. She disappeared for a moment and came back with a second one.
“How much later was it when your friend met with him again?”
“I’m not sure,” Angela responded. “’Bout a month went by when I thought, hey, I haven’t seen Marce for a while. I started asking around. One of the girls saw her getting into a car with him.”
“Did you see his vehicle when you went with him?”
The woman shook her head in response to Cady’s question. “We agreed to meet at the motel. I went to the cops in town here.” Her face darkened. “They didn’t take her disappearance serious. ’Cuz she’s got a sheet and a habit and she’s moved around some.”
But whatever the police’s opinion of Angela’s concern, her statement would have started a paper trail. Cady made a mental note to follow up on it.
“So you guys are feds. Guess you want this guy bad.” Angela’s expression turned assessing. “What’s he done?”
“Kidnapping.” The woman paled at Miguel’s answer. “And he’s wanted for questioning in three homicides.”
“I knew it. I fucking knew it.” She took short, quick draws on the cigarette. “Maybe I can help you out. But only if you do something for me.”
Cady already knew where this was going. “You mean look into your friend’s disappearance.”
Angela gave a slow nod. “You promise me that, and I’ll talk to everyone I know in this business. I’ll have ’em call me if they see him around. I know lots of gals, and not just this county, either. Someone contacts me about him, I’ll let you know right away.” She opened the door wider and tossed the still-burning butt of the cigarette onto the tufts of frosted grass. “I’ve been fucked over by cops more times than I can count. You different?”
“I’ll follow up and get back to you,” Cady promised.
Staring hard at her, Angela finally gave a decisive nod. “Then give me your number.”
Chapter 41
Ryder woke to the smell of coffee. He opened one eye. When he discovered the cup was wielded by a green-eyed strawberry blonde, he opened both. Sat up and yawned.
“Apology coffee,” Cady said as she handed him the cup. “For waking you when I got home last night.”
He took the cup and sipped, his eyes closing appreciatively. “Technically, Sadie owes me the apology, since she started the bark fest when you got here.”
“She wanted to make the coffee, but with no opposable thumbs and all, we had to team up.”
His mouth quirked. “I don’t know what time it is, but it has to be too early for humor.”
“Too bad. Then I won’t tell you about Rodriguez getting molested by a stripper wearing a raunchy nurse outfit.”
Wide-awake now, he straightened in bed. Took another sip while running an appreciative eye over her. Black jeans. Black cami, which he already knew would soon be covered with a button-up shirt before she put on her vest and shoulder harness. “On second thought, that sounds like a don’t-miss story.”
She stole the cup from him and took a gulp before returning it and giving him all the details of the scene. He chuckled. Damned if he couldn’t picture the whole thing. “How come you never take me to places like that?”
“Believe me, I’m doing you a favor. I had to shower when I got back last night. And I left my jacket to air out on the deck. Some of the women we talked to were smokers. I may have to burn it.”
He leaned farther back into the pillows. “What got you up so early? After last night, you’ve got comp time coming.”
She shook her head. Stole his cup again and drank. “I’ve fed the dogs and taken them out. Changed Hero’s bandage. Your mom shouldn’t have to do it today unless he tears something loose. There’s a task-force meeting this morning at the courthouse. We got enough information last night to narrow our parameters. Maybe enough to start putting search teams together. And something else came up I need to check into before things get started.”
He took the mug from her. “If you go in just a little later, something could come up here.”
“Sorry.”
But she didn’t look sorry, he reflected regretfully. Not even a little.
“What’d you do last night?”
His stomach clenched on cue. “Not much. Hung out. Watched a game I’d recorded.” Which he had. After he’d returned from the nursing home.
“I was wondering whether there was anyone in your office who was around when my father died.”
Ryder kept his gaze steady on hers, his jaw clenched. Omission or not, this still felt like lying. And he didn’t want to lie to her. Not when it’d taken so long to get her to trust him, just a little. “Jerry Garza was. But when I asked yesterday, he didn’t have any information to share. He wasn’t on the response team.”
“What about the deputies who were? The chief investigative officer. Are they still in the area?”
God, he hated this. “What do you think they could tell you that wasn’t in the report?” he hedged.
She gave a frustrated shake of her head. “That’s the question, isn’t it? Maybe this whole thing is a waste of time. It’s probably a mistake to give too much credence to something my mom said when she was in a confused state.”
“Maybe.” His chest hollowed out when he noted the misery in her eyes. She wouldn’t thank him for keeping this from her. But until he had verifiable facts, that’s exactly what he was going to do.
Chapter 42
“I had fun yesterday.”
Dylan glanced around the classroom to be sure Lawson wasn’t near b
efore he smiled back at Grace. “So did I. That place was crazy.” He’d enjoyed it more than he should have. He’d woken out of a dead sleep last night, twin nightmare visions of Matthis and Bahlman dancing in his mind, their heads blown clear off. He’d taken a helluva chance going out in broad daylight like he had.
But when Grace looked at him like that, his regrets faded.
“We didn’t get as much work done as we would have staying here. But we’re way ahead of anyone else in class.”
“Because one of us is a slave driver,” Dylan said, straight-faced, and then grinned when she punched him.
“You’ll be thankful in another few days when everybody else is scrambling to finish and we’re already polishing our presentation. Oh, and I brought you something.” She turned to dig in her backpack hanging from the back of her chair.
He checked on Lawson’s proximity before studying Grace when she couldn’t catch him at it. Today she was wearing tights, different boots, and a long shirt-type thing. Her hair was up in back, showing off all those earrings marching up her ear. Dylan didn’t think they were weird anymore. Kinda cool, really.
She turned, hand extended, and he slowly reached out to take the item from her. A cell. Nothing fancy, a flip phone that looked a lot like the ones his mom had.
“What’s this for?”
“I like your idea of switching paragraphs six through eight, Dylan. I think the paper would flow better.”
Dylan could almost feel Lawson looming over them. He palmed the cell and moved his hand under the desk as he leaned over to look at the sections she was pointing to on her laptop. Damn, the guy moved fast. He’d been across the room a minute ago.
“Keep up the good work, you two.” Dylan watched the man move on.
“Damn, you’re sneaky,” he breathed. He unclasped his fingers to look at the cell, torn. “I can’t take this.”
“I have an iPhone, but my parents wouldn’t let me take it when I went on the class trip to Peru last summer. They bought me that, with, like, two hundred prepaid international minutes on it.” Grace was talking fast, the words practically tumbling from her. “I used about thirty minutes of it. We could text each other. Or call.” She lifted a shoulder, her gaze fixed on the screen of her computer. “But if you don’t want to . . .”
Shit. Dylan snuck a quick glance at her. Had he hurt her feelings? It felt strange taking something from a girl, and his mom would go ballistic if she ever found out he had a phone. She hadn’t said he couldn’t have one, but she always put him off. She was never going to get one for him. He knew that’s why they didn’t have internet, either. If Tina could make sure he never talked to anyone—ever—she would. He knew how careful they needed to be. But it wasn’t like he was going to let anything slip with Grace. Just the thought of her finding out about his past had sweat slicking down his spine.
“It’s all right, really. It doesn’t matter. You’re probably okay with not having a phone. Forget about it.”
“No one in this century is okay not having a phone.”
She finally looked at him. “My mom has forgotten all about that cell. And if she found it, she’d probably take it to the church or something. They’re always collecting stuff for the missions. I’d rather you have it than some stranger.”
Now he felt even worse about it. Like it was charity or something.
“If you’re going to be all weird about accepting it, I suppose I should pay my share for the food at Johnny’s yesterday.”
“What?” He frowned. “No. Why?”
She just cocked her head, brows raised. Comprehension dawned. The girl was too damn smart for her own good. It was like she could see right into his head and form an argument for thoughts he hadn’t even had yet. “No, it’s okay.” He shoved the phone in his pocket. “Thanks. Things are pretty lame at my house. It’ll be cool to be able to text nights and weekends.”
Grace smiled. “I think so too. I already put my number in it for you. But you can add all your other friends if you want.”
His smile froze. Maybe if they had more than one class together, Grace would have realized that he didn’t have any other friends. And Dylan needed to think long and hard about whether being friends with her—or more—could possibly put her in danger.
Chapter 43
“Cady? You got a few minutes?”
She looked up, startled to see Allen standing in the doorway. She’d gotten to work early and had been busy gathering details for the task-force meeting, which was due to start—she glanced at the clock—in fifteen minutes.
“Sure.” She got up and followed him to his office, her gut clenching on cue. She could guess the reason for the meeting.
He crossed to his desk and picked up a sheet to hand to her. “Stan Caster is still a guest at Butner. Harassing your mom was deemed a parole violation, and he’ll have completed his entire sentence this June.”
Her chest eased. At least he wasn’t out yet. “Well, it’s better to know that than be taken by surprise if he appears again.” Cady glanced up from the sheet.
Allen’s expression was sober. “The warden made a note to specifically warn him against that prior to release. You’ll get notified before they let him out. At least you’ll be prepared.”
“Thanks, Allen.” Cady would make damn sure Alma was apprised as well. If Caster showed up again, he’d discover Hannah was no longer vulnerable. She had protectors now.
Not like thirty years ago.
The task force was already assembled when Cady walked into the conference room. SBI agent Rebedeau spoke first. “I hope you’re going to tell us there’s been another ping.”
“No, but we do have a new development,” she answered. “Before I get into it, does anyone else have an update to share?” The law enforcement task-force members had been selected for their investigative and tactical skills. Or, in the case of the feds, for their areas of expertise.
ATF agent Gabe Pearson cleared his throat. “I’ve been following up on the eTrace of the weapon found next to Cady’s property after the shooting. A gun range outside Fayetteville initially bought it nine years ago. The range has since changed hands, and current owners claim there were no records kept of customers using the range. The weapon disappeared from the supply more than five years ago during the first owner’s tenure. The subsequent report to the sheriff’s office didn’t take place until the sale was going through. They didn’t sell firearms, so they either allowed a customer or an employee to walk off with one of the weapons.”
Rebedeau’s muttered curse had Cady’s gaze flying to the normally good-natured agent. Gabe smiled thinly. “Exactly. But I’m hounding Fred Hannity—the ex-owner—hard. He’s trying to come up with a complete list of his employees during the time he had the place. I’m reaching out to each of them to see if I can get more information. People’s memories fade after a few years. The names he’s given me so far have been added to the digital file.”
Cady turned to Curtis Weddig. “Was your cyber agent able to come up with anything linking Forrester to an online drug ring?” She could read his answer in his expression.
“Sorry, no. Law enforcement shut down The Silk Road, the largest black-market deep website for illegal drugs, a few years back. Busting the replacement sites that have popped up in its absence is an ongoing task. Anything high profile would be on our radar. Smaller sites, not so much. And without a name or URL . . .” He lifted his shoulders.
She accepted the news with equanimity. “What’s the update on Suzanne Fielding’s cell?”
Rebedeau answered. “Obviously, Forrester didn’t call the cell while it was at the lab, but they’re done with it. You’ll probably want to give it back to her.”
Cady nodded. “I’ll have it run over to Madison County. A deputy is monitoring Fielding in her home twenty-four seven.”
“What about having her generating the contact?” Pearson asked.
“She says she rarely does that. If she doesn’t have new information for him, I’
m afraid a call might spook him into dumping the phone altogether.” She looked around the table. “Any other updates?” When no one else spoke, Cady continued. “Yesterday, Miguel and I interviewed two prostitutes who identified Eric Loomer and one who ID’d Bruce Forrester from pictures.” She waited for the murmur that rose to quiet. “The woman who ID’d Forrester was physically abused by him during a sexual encounter. She lives in Boone, and he said his home was about thirty minutes away. Another of her friends said he told her it was in the mountains. We used that information to redefine the search area.” Miguel passed out copies of the new map.
“The red borders show the original parameters set from the triangulation on Forrester’s cell. The yellow dots reflect where Forrester has been reportedly seen in the last few years within the original parameter. So the new boundaries have been outlined in black.”
“Still looks to be about seven square miles,” Buncombe County deputy sheriff investigator Andy Garrett muttered. He was studying the map through dark-framed readers.
“It is. So we’ll check the more isolated areas first. Unincorporated townships. Mountain homes. If we forgo cities and towns for now, that would narrow the search to the spots outlined in green, which are about four-point-two square miles. I suggest multiple teams, each covering one of these areas. I think we’ll discover that Loomer and Forrester are together.” It was too much of a coincidence that both men had been sighted in the same area. “Since Loomer’s uncle had his property booby-trapped and admitted teaching similar skills to his nephew, we should take the precaution of adding explosive detection dogs.” Cady’s gaze settled on Watauga County deputy Jack Rossi. “I’m hoping your county’s K-9 is available.” Before the meeting she’d called the Waynesville PD and enlisted similar assistance.
