Linc watched it filling, mouth watering, every fiber of his being screaming yes.
Glass filled, Dante slammed the bottle back on the bar and reclaimed Linc’s eyes. He didn’t look away.
Linc challenged Dante’s gaze until both of their eyes began to burn from holding them open for so long. Just as Linc reached up and took the shot glass between his fingers, his cell phone vibrated in the pocket of his jeans.
With a soft roll of his eyes, Linc broke the staring contest and removed the phone from his pocket, checking the text message that had just come through. It was Martin, SRPD’s lead forensics investigator.
Martin: Linc, I got the results back for that Blow Pop. I know you’re busy with The Chopper tonight, but I think you really need to hear this man. Call me asap.
Linc’s heart zoomed to a stop for several different reasons. One, Martin’s cryptic message about the grape Blow Pop Linc had asked him to look into didn’t promise good news. And two, Martin had just reminded Linc about the engagement party he’d been planning to infiltrate for ages.
The engagement party where Liam O’Dair was scheduled to make his first public appearance since being released from prison.
The engagement party where he’d convinced his boss that The Chopper was most likely to strike again.
The engagement party that was already halfway over, that he’d managed to forget all about since he’d spent the better part of the evening having his heart ripped clear from his chest.
His boss had just finished giving him his job back, and Linc was already on the verge of fucking up again. Cursing under his breath, he shoved away from the bar, abandoning the full shot glass, snatching his jacket up from the barstool and stomping toward the door without a word.
From the distance, Dante’s voice rang in. “You made the right decision, brother!”
Linc barreled out of the door without responding, the bell above the frame ringing in his rapid retreat. Little did Dante know, Linc hadn’t made the right decision at all.
The decision had been made for him.
Little did Dante know, there was only one thing on the planet that had the power to pull Linc away from that bar—and that drink—as quickly as it had right then.
And it sure as hell wasn’t his own free will.
No.
It was The Shadow Rock Chopper.
Epilogue
The makeshift parking lot that had been built on the O’Dair’s eighty-five-acre estate went deathly silent later that night. But Veda wasn’t surprised or uncomfortable with the stillness. It gave her time to collect her thoughts and her center. Two things she desperately needed on the night she’d take her number five, who was currently a guest at the party roaring way in the mansion at the top of the grassy hill. The biggest engagement party of the season had been underway at the O’Dair’s seventy-room estate for hours, giving her plenty of time to scope out the best place with which to separate O’Dair’s disgusting balls from his body.
Sitting on the trunk of Liam’s yellow Lamborghini Veneno, Veda lifted her head to watch the fireworks that exploded above the mansion. They came shooting up from the expansive terrace in the backyard of the house, where the party was behing held. Every light in the home had been turned on for the event, making it glow so brilliantly against the night sky that the only thing in the world that could top it in splendor and beauty were the sharp beams of light shooting into the sky above it. The fireworks boomed brighter than the stars, lighting up the sky as well as the largest bay on the island, which the house sat on the edge of. The home had been built one hundred years ago, boasting a French artistry that reflected an era long gone, earning it the title of the most beautiful home on Shadow Rock and one of the island’s greatest treasures.
As the fireworks flew, her heart sang. Fireworks meant the party was nearing its end, and Liam O’Dair would be making his way out to his car within the hour—if not sooner.
And she’d be ready for him.
A gust of ice-cold wind blew by, and she pulled her bulky black winter coat tighter around her body. The coat had been filled to the brim with what seemed like every feather on the face of the Earth, making her look like The Marshmallow Man, but Veda didn’t give a damn. It kept her warm.
Looking over her shoulder, her eyes ran the O’Dair guesthouse, which sat several acres away from the mansion itself and was currently undergoing renovation. After perusing that house earlier in the night, she’d decided it would be the perfect place to finish Liam. It had been gutted inside out, to the bare bones, from the floors to the ceilings. No walls, no electricity, no water. She knew she wouldn’t run into any drunken partygoers looking for a place to smash in that guest house. No way in hell any of those rich snobs would risk getting a single spec of dust on their thousand-dollar clothing.
By an amazing stroke of luck, the guesthouse sat just a few feet away from the parking lot and from Liam’s car. It wouldn’t be difficult for Veda to drag his ass in there and give him his just desserts.
She just had to get him alone first.
The mask she’d yet to pull down sat atop her hair, which she’d pulled back into a bun low on her head, and her black clothing nearly disappeared in the nippy night sky.
She wondered if Liam would leave the party early, or late. Her stomach tied itself into an excited knot when it occurred to her that, if he decided to leave the party very early, which was likely since the stigma from his arrest was still alive and well, she could finish what she’d come for within the hour.
Butterflies warmed her stomach, and she almost smiled at the thought.
And then, just like that, as if the God’s above couldn’t believe she had the audacity to smile, Linc popped into her mind. The conversation they’d had on the pier earlier that night. The absolutely demolished look in his eyes when she’d turned down his heartfelt proposition. The fact that she’d, unknowingly, driven him to a point that could allow her to hurt him so badly as she had that night.
She’d hurt him. The man who was the sole reason she lived to sit on the rear of that car that night. The man who was the sole reason she breathed that night.
The very thought wiped the beginnings of the smile clear from her face. It replaced the butterflies fluttering through her stomach with vultures. Swallowing thickly, all Veda could do was hope to the highest God that she hadn’t just lost her best friend. If Linc decided he didn’t want to see or speak to her anymore, she’d be lying if she said she wouldn’t understand. But the thought still sent a shot of terror blazing through her.
When the crunch of grass in the distance snapped her from her thoughts, she was thankful. If she’d allowed herself to delve any deeper into what had happened with Linc, she wouldn’t have the focus she needed to finish what she’d come for.
She hopped down from the Lambo’s trunk and knelt behind it, shielding herself from view while peeking out from the car’s body.
She squinted at the lone man walking through the parking lot, unable to tell if it was Liam. No way she could be so lucky, right? Getting Liam earlier than expected, and getting him alone at that?
As the male figure grew closer, the swooped back blonde hair, the elfish features, and the dull blue eyes that had been all over the news for months came into view, sharper with every moment he grew closer to the car, and Veda realized she was going to be that lucky. Apparently being acquitted of all charges and freed from prison still hadn’t freed Liam from ostracization amongst his peers. As he approached the car, Liam looked downright dejected. Desperate to be anywhere else. Veda couldn’t begin to imagine how miserable it must’ve been for him to face the relentless judgment and invasive questions he’d surely endured from his rich friends and family.
Little did he know, his misery had only just begun.
She ground her teeth as he grew closer, jiggling his car keys in his pocket. She pulled her mask down over her face and primed her gloved thumb over the lever of the syringe she’d been holding all night, desperate to put it t
o good use. Her breathing picked up, and so did her heart, and she reminded herself to remain calm.
Liam approached the door of the Lambo with a sigh while fishing his keys from his pocket. They clinked and sang in the quiet air as he searched for the one he needed.
Veda gave the parking lot one more quick look to make sure the coast was still clear. The headlights of the car blinked twice, followed by a sharp chirp as Liam unlocked it. Just as he opened the driver’s side door, turning his back so he could climb inside the car, Veda crept in from behind and slid the needle into his neck as quickly and calmly as she could.
She wasn’t shy about laying her thumb on the lever, emptying an ample amount of sodium thiopental into his veins, so much that Liam couldn’t even find the strength to jolt in shock, fight back, or even turn his head to see what the hell had just happened before his knees buckled under him and he collapsed to a heap on the ground.
Veda watched the motherfucker crumble, releasing her first breath in minutes before bending down, seizing both of his underarms in her grasp and dragging him toward the abandoned guest house that beckoned them just a few feet away.
Liam O’Dair was a heavy son of a bitch, but as the “17” tattoo screamed up at her from the inside of his limp wrist, Veda found herself spurred, driven, moved so ferociously, she discovered a strength she’d never known herself capable of, and had his body inside the run-down house in less than a minute.
——
After showing security his badge, enduring a barrage of infuriating questions, demands for classified information, and all around attitude from the rent-a-cops manning the gate at the O’Dair estate, Linc had finally been let through, pulling his truck into the make-shift parking lot that sat hundreds of feet away from the house.
He parked and stepped out, taking only a moment to revel in the colorful fireworks flying through the sky before he began toward the sprawling, grassy hill. It was going to be a long walk up to the mansion that glowed at him from the top, but it would be worth it. Even though his entire precinct thought he was crazy, even though they continued to doubt him, he knew.
He knew The Chopper would be here. Over the months she’d become sloppy, impatient, and he had no doubt she’d find it impossible to ignore that itch. That itch that drove her to do what she’d done. That would drive her to Liam O’Dair as quickly as humanly possible. That would drive her to the other ten men who’d followed her into the bedroom that night, ten years earlier.
The black and white footage from that party flashed through his mind. He’d watched the old video footage from the Blackwater house over and over, so much so that he was sure he’d never have to watch it again. It was now burned into his brain. All he had to do was drudge up the thought of it to see the entire thing, in a play by play, in his mind. The way she’d tried to fight Todd Lockwood as he dragged her into the room. The way the drink in her hand had fallen to the floor before she’d finally given in, allowing herself to be pulled into the room on wobbly legs. The way nine other animals had followed them both inside and didn’t emerge for hours. The way her face had been hidden from the camera the entire time.
Linc’s heart burned as it all played, like a movie, in his mind. Maddening fury encased him and moved his feet forward.
As he made his way through the parking lot, toward the mansion, he wondered how The Chopper would do it. With her first four victims, she’d always carried out her attacks in places she knew she could get them alone. In their homes, in their hotel rooms. The only public attack she’d ever made was with Eugene Masterson, her second victim, at a Masquerade Ball, and even that had been in a private room that had been closed off. Plus, the ball had given her a perfect excuse to wear a mask and keep her identity hidden. But she couldn’t wear a mask here. Not without raising a lot of eyebrows. Would she risk showing her face at a party she hadn’t even been invited to? On the same night she planned to attack Liam?
He knew she was getting desperate, but this desperate? Desperate enough to risk being seen by the two hundred people who were attending the party that roared away in the distance?
Linc didn’t know why, but the questions blasting through his mind stopped him in mid-stride, and with a squint, he looked over his shoulder.
To the guesthouse he’d just passed.
He paused, and the moment he did, the answer to the questions invading his mind became clear.
The answer was no.
No, The Chopper wasn’t desperate enough to show her face at a party. If she’d chosen tonight to finish number five, she wouldn’t do it in the main house.
She’d do it in the guesthouse.
The pinch in his gut, the pinch that always told Linc he was onto something, the pinch he never ignored, made him do a double-take. He shifted gears and began toward that guesthouse, which was clearly under construction. Every window had been torn out and covered with plastic construction film. The front door had been torn away completely, leaving a gaping black hole in its place. It was downright creepy. No one in their right mind would patronize it in the dead of night.
All the more reason for The Chopper to choose it.
Linc approached that black door and peered inside, drawing his Glock when the interior of the house instantly sent a chill down his spine. All of the electrical outlets had been ripped out and so had the walls, leaving nothing but hundreds of exposed, wooden beams all around.
He stepped into the house, squinting into the darkness. He was desperate to go back to his truck and grab a flashlight so he could see a little better, but he knew he couldn’t make his presence so blatant.
He moved on a slow foot, careful not to step on anything that would make noise as he eased through the gutted house. The same plastic construction curtains that had been taped over the windows also hung down from the ceiling all over the house, serving as barriers to separate the rooms.
Beyond the first plastic curtain, just a few feet in front of him, Linc’s eyes fell to the floor, and he caught sight of two feet, clad in men’s dress shoes, peeking out from behind it.
He froze in mid-step, heart zooming to a stop.
He primed his gun in front of his body, eyes locked to those feet, and he began moving forward again. More of the body lying on the floor came into his view. The long legs, naked from the waist down. The splayed thighs, a large puddle of blood pooling on the concrete floor between them. The suit jacket left on over a dress shirt and tie. And the face. The face that had been all over the news for the better part of the year.
Liam O’Dair. Lying on the floor with his head cocked to the side. If there weren’t blood dripping to the floor from between his legs, the casual observer would’ve guess he was sleeping.
Fighting to control the lungs that begged to gasp, Linc kept his breathing low—level—eyes dashing all over the house.
Had he missed The Chopper a second time? Had she slipped through his fingers, by a hair, once more? Would he have to go back to his lieutenant and tell her he’d fucked up yet again?
The answer to the new questions forming in his mind seemed to be a maddening yes.
Then, a rustle.
A shuffle.
A muffled curse.
Linc swallowed back the gasp that tried to race up his throat, moving toward the noise that was floating through the house just a few feet away from Liam’s body.
As he came upon another sheet of plastic construction paper, hanging down from the ceiling to the floor, and saw the silhouette of a bulky body on the other side, he froze once more. The plastic barrier was sheer but not completely see through, so the body on the other side of the plastic was indistinct, blurry, and unrecognizable. Just an obscure shadow, looming across the plastic, aided by the sliver of moonlight peeking into the only window in the house that hadn’t been covered.
Without moving forward another inch, Linc lifted his gun and cocked it.
The sound of the gun cocking caused the person on the other side of the plastic to freeze completely. Even their b
reathing came to an immediate halt.
Linc sucked in a breath through clenched teeth. “This is SRPD. Put your hands in the air and get down on your knees now.”
——
Veda’s wide eyes stared at the massive shadow looming on the other side of the plastic construction sheet, having held her breath for so long she worried she was moments from collapsing from asphyxia. Every bone in her body trembled as her heartbeat punched at her chest.
Dropping the scalpel she’d been seconds from returning to the medical kit, which sat on the table behind her, she rose both arms in the air—as high as she could with her bulky coat restricting them—white hot terror tightening her skin. The scalpel clattered to the floor, filling the dark, silent house like a bomb going off.
“Get down on your knees.” The deep voice floated in again from beyond the plastic, plastic so thick that she couldn’t even see him. But she didn’t need to see him. She didn’t need to see the owner of that deep, buttery voice. The voice that had immediately followed the cock of a gun, just seconds earlier, and stopped her heart in mid-beat. The voice that, just hours earlier, had been laced with pain and heartbreak on the pier.
The voice of her best friend.
“Get down on your knees now, I won’t ask you again,” he spat.
But Veda couldn’t move.
She couldn’t breathe.
When there was no movement, he contradicted his earlier warning, his voice moving to a scream as the outline of his shadowed figure jolted. “Get down on your knees now!”
And Veda fell to her knees, stunned disbelief still lacing her eyes.
This was it.
It was over.
Her quest for revenge would come to a heartbreaking end only halfway to completion.
She’d be forced to cut her journey short.
Her long, desperate, anguished journey toward pure peace, pure serenity, and pure unadulterated happiness.
Five down.
Pulse (Revenge Book 5) Page 27
