by S. T. Abby
She meets my gaze. “Jason Martin. He’s Lawrence’s cousin. He lives in South Carolina these days. Works as a real estate developer there. He was the twelfth.”
“Thank you for sharing this.”
“Just tell me you’ll do more than hear it.”
“I plan to,” I tell her honestly.
Donny follows me to the door, and I turn around to face her one last time. “How’d Victoria and Marcus’s mother die?”
“Car crash,” she says on a sigh. “A rich couple from a few towns over collided with her after they got drunk at a party. Their last name was Carlyle, I believe. They orphaned their own daughter with that wreck, and killed a damn good woman who was just trying to get home to her kids after a long day at the hospital.”
It’s like this family couldn’t catch a break.
“Nurse?” I ask, though I don’t know why I want to know.
“No. She was actually a coroner for the same hospital where the kids died. I figured that’s one reason they also chose that one. Their mom was a loved woman with a lot of friends from there.”
I nod in understanding, and we turn to leave.
“They worked in a pack mentality that night,” Donny whispers as we step outside and shut the door.
“With Kyle as their most dominant alpha. It was more prison pack mentality, joining together so as not to be the odd one out.”
“As young as fifteen, some of them,” Donny growls.
“Adolescents are easier to manipulate and control. They looked up to the three—Lawrence, Morgan, and Kyle. But Kyle mostly called the shots. Someone that night would have butted heads, with their being so many alphas.”
“Not that we’ll know. Morgan and Lawrence are already dead.”
“Devin. We need to find him.”
“He left part of the way through it to lock up Lindy May. What if he came back and watched? How else would Diana have known the rest of the story?”
I purse my lips. I noted that too. But Diana never explained.
“Were we ever able to interview the ones on duty in the hospital the night the kids came in?” I ask Donny.
“No. It’s been over ten years ago. We were lucky they were able to give us what they had.”
“Why not tell someone there they were hurt?” I ask him.
He shrugs, every ounce of energy suddenly gone from him. I feel like I’ve been through the same emotional vacuum.
“I don’t know, but I do know Johnson knew about this. Kyle was put into protective custody.”
“We need more than one woman’s word this all happened. She wasn’t even an eye witness. And if we’re taking on Johnson, then we’re also taking on Director McEvoy. We’re going to need solid evidence. In the meantime, we need to find out who else is a target and what really killed Robert Evans.”
“I’ve never once in my career wondered if I was on the right side of the law. Until today,” he says quietly.
Revenge killings always make us question our standing. “He won’t stop just at the ones who killed the kids,” I remind him.
“He opened some doors, but didn’t touch anyone. He stole some mirrors, put some ink in some water and played with some paint. He could have already killed numerous people. But he hasn’t.”
“He’s terrorizing them. It’s his form of revenge against the whole town. He knows how their minds work. They’ve been drenched in ten years of guilt for knowing this and doing nothing. They believe something supernatural is really going on right now.”
“Why do I feel like he’s just getting started?” Donny asks as we get in the SUV.
“Why doesn’t Kyle Davenport have the same surname as his father?” I ask.
He pulls up his iPad, reading something on it. “Says Jane Davenport was the mother. The sheriff didn’t know Kyle even existed until Jane showed up in town one day with Kyle in tow, and she handed over custody.”
My eyebrows go up. “What?”
He shakes his head, whistling low. “Hadley dug all this up somehow. Kyle is one sick fuck. Started torturing and killing animals at the ripe age of five. By seven, his mother decided she couldn’t handle him. He had a tantrum and cut her with a knife. She took him to the sheriff, who was all too happy to take away all her custodial rights, and she stayed in town, watching her son grow up from a distance. I bet her life was a living hell.”
“Where is she now?”
His brow furrows. “Dead. She died ten years ago, shortly after the trial for Robert Evans started.”
“Why do I feel like that’s not a coincidence?” I groan.
“Because everything in this godforsaken town is tied to that nightmare somehow.”
Just as I crank the car, I look up, seeing a flash of red. Quickly, I get back out, and I climb onto the hood of the SUV, reading the tops of the buildings in the distance. It’s the town hall I see from here.
Written in red on the side of the roof is one message: It is difficult to free fools from the chains they revere.
Donny climbs up beside me, and he sucks in a long breath.
“First he quotes the bible and now Voltaire? What’s the purpose?”
“No clue,” I tell him as I hop down. “Even though I think it’s pretty clear what the messages separate mean.”
Just then, my head snaps to the speaker on the pole, because music starts filtering through it. “Hush, little baby, don’t say a word. Momma’s gonna buy you a mocking bird. And if that mocking bird don’t sing, Momma’s gonna buy you a diamond ring…”
“That’s not creepy at all,” Donny says with a shudder as the nursery song plays on in a woman’s voice.
Everyone in the street turns to stare at the speaker closest to them, all of them paling.
“You think he’s going to cleanse the town?”
I tighten my lips. “He’s showing a lot of control. I don’t think he wants to cleanse, but I think he wants them to confess. He’s here because we are. Otherwise, he’d have killed the last name on the list that isn’t in this town. He came when we did.”
“But why?”
“When I find out, I’ll let you know,” I tell him, driving away from the house that dropped a bomb on us I wasn’t prepared for.
Chapter 2
To the wicked, everything serves as a pretext.
—Voltaire
LANA
“How’s your dad?” I ask Jake as he walks around the room, hooking up a final monitor.
“He’s taking the meds again. You know as well as I do how hurt his ego is that he’s sick. But it’s handled. Now we can focus on this.”
I watch the look on Logan’s face as he steps out of Diana’s house, and I know she told him all she knew.
“I’ll watch Diana’s house, in case they make their move,” Jake tells me, brushing my shoulder with his as he sits down beside me, his eyes flicking to the numerous monitors he has spread out on the walls of the old hunter’s cabin.
The FBI came through, did a sweep of all these, and then Jake set up our temporary headquarters in his father’s cabin that has been empty for years.
I nod appreciatively, but I can’t take my eyes off Logan, seeing the pain in his eyes. Pain for a girl he never knew. Pain for a boy he’ll never know. Pain for a past that has haunted me for ten years.
And he’s not even finished getting all his details just yet. There’s still more to learn.
“He’ll find the evidence he needs, Lana. You’re right about him. He’s the real deal.”
Too good of a man to be sullied by the dark thing I’ve become.
“I know he will. Then my father’s name will be cleared—at least to the people in this town who condemned him.”
“And Marcus will have his vengeance from the grave,” he adds quietly, cueing the music that has everyone in town pausing almost immediately.
Only the ones too young to remember the sound of my mother’s voice singing that song on the church stage are able to shrug it off. But everyone else is growing increasi
ngly terrified.
Terrified of the dead coming back to haunt them.
“You ever wonder what we might have become if my father had never been convicted of those murders?” I ask him softly.
“No. Because if I start wondering, I’ll never stop,” he says without hesitation.
The musty smell of the cabin will have to be washed off me before I leave.
“I’m putting him in danger by letting him go on this egg hunt,” I tell Jake as I turn up the volume on the monitor with the sheriff speaking.
“You have his back,” Jake says, his lips twitching as we see the sheriff turning a precarious shade of white, hearing the music play through the speakers.
He remembers that night. The night my mother sung that song on the church stage for a very important play. Almost the entire town was there.
“It’d better be enough, Jake. If he gets hurt because of me, I’ll fall over that edge, forget what this is all about, and kill without prejudice.”
My hands shake just thinking of the monster I’d become if I lost my entire soul.
Jake’s hand covers my trembling one, and he leans toward me. “I’ll reel you back in.”
I stare at him grimly. “If Logan is hurt because of me—or for any reason—you won’t be enough.”
I feel it when the tear escapes, and Jake tenses, seeing the single bit of wet proof of how vulnerable I am because of one man. His lips tighten.
“Then we’ll both make sure he stays safe.”
I wipe away the tear, and I return my attention to the panicking sheriff as he shuts and locks the door of the town hall, turning to face SSA Johnson.
“That’s Jasmine Evans singing on that speaker,” Sheriff Cannon hisses. “Unless a ghost has come back from the dead, you’re missing something.”
Then the sheriff turns to one of his deputies. “Kill that damned music! Find out how he got into our town speakers!”
Jake smirks. “Good luck with that, Sheriff. I dare you to out hack me,” Jake says smugly.
This is the part he’s been waiting for. The part where we show them what sheep they all really are. The part where we show them how weak their minds are.
The part where we fuck the whole town up.
“I told you this was not going to be easy,” Johnson growls as the sheriff turns back to face him.
“Oh? Because I remember you saying you could control this team. So far, they’ve asked too many fucking questions, and they’re hanging flyers all over my town. It’s just a matter of time before someone gets the courage to talk.”
Gotcha, you stupid bastard.
“Logan Bennett is your problem. The rest of the team, I can handle.”
My gut clenches as dread unfolds in me. I’ll fucking kill him before time if he goes after Logan. And I’ll make an example out of anyone he sends.
“You sure you can get to Kyle without anyone figuring it out?” Jake asks me, his eyes trained on the screen too.
I don’t answer, because I’m busy listening to what’s being said.
“If he takes me down, you’re coming with me. Remember that, Johnson,” the sheriff snarls as he shuts the door to his office, giving them privacy.
Johnson narrows his eyes. “I never told you to go after those kids. This psychopath is targeting you because of them. He’s not targeting you because of Evans. That sick fuck of a son you have needed a leash, and instead, you turned him loose, told him to do his worst. That team is here because you gave that monster free reign.”
The sheriff’s face twists in anguish, and Jake mutes all the other screens, focusing on this one with me. We knew the sheriff wasn’t the original killer, but we never expected to see any remorse, because we profiled him as a sociopath.
“He’s not sick. He was hurting. He saw his sister all spread out like that, brutally raped and murdered.”
Johnson points a finger in his face. “I went along with Evans, because that cunt lawyer from New York got wind of his case and was already well on the road to proving the case was beyond biased. The trial was never supposed to be here, and too many jury members were affiliated with you. He would have gotten free, and my career would have been ended for all the strings I pulled. You have no idea what I had to do just to get on this case so I could clean up this mess. I gave you the real profile. Find the fucker who is killing your people before Bennett finds out what we buried.”
I look to Jake, and he glares at the screen as I speak. “They’re on edge.”
“Right where we wanted them,” Jake says quietly.
The Wheels on the Bus starts playing on the speakers, and one woman trips, falling to the ground as my mother’s voice continues to echo through the town. The voices of so many children accompany her voice, making it a hair creepier. The music dies suddenly, and Jake’s lips twitch as he studies something on his laptop.
“They unplugged it from the server.”
“Just like we knew they would,” I agree.
“When they plug them back in, it’ll alert me. I’ll start it over.”
“Until they have no choice but to leave them unplugged, and no way of telling the town what’s going on when the haunted house opens.”
He nods slowly. “You ready for that?”
A dark grin etches the corners of my lips. “Very much.”
Someone entering the sheriff’s office has my attention. Chad Briggs steps in, wearing his deputy’s uniform, and seals the door behind him. His eyes flick to Johnson, then he addresses the sheriff.
“Some information has come to light.”
“Then spill it,” Sheriff Cannon growls.
His eyes flick to Johnson again. “Some sensitive information.”
He waves dismissively toward Johnson. “He’s not the one from that group to worry about. What information?”
I can tell Briggs is hesitant, but he finally answers. “SSA Bennett and another agent were spotted leaving Diana Barnes’s home. They were there a while, Sheriff, and I just got word that her son is untouchable right now. Staying with some lawyer in New York. I think she told them everything.”
Sheriff Cannon curses, running a hand through his hair as he tosses his hat across the room.
“Calm down,” Johnson says, regaining his own composure. “That’s just the ramblings of an old woman. He’d need proof. There is none. And most of the suspects involved are dead already, so it’s not like they can confirm or deny. We need to focus more on making sure there’s nothing left that could show what we did to Evans.”
“There’s nothing,” Sheriff Cannon says, but my lips twitch.
“There’s plenty,” Jake says, grinning broadly. “You’re just too stupid to know it, Sheriff.”
And we have so much to share. When the time comes.
“Diana Barnes could become a problem if she gets someone to corroborate the story,” I hear the Sheriff telling Johnson, then his gaze shifts to Chad Briggs. “See to it that isn’t the case.”
“They’re going after Diana,” Jake says as Chad nods and heads out of the room.
“Not until nightfall.”
My eyes flick back to the screen where Logan is. I turn up the volume, though he’s almost too far away from the camera for me to hear.
“The coroner died two years ago, so that’s a bust,” Donny is telling him.
“We need to visit the hospital where the kids went,” Logan says, and my stomach sinks.
“Fuck,” Jake hisses. “He shouldn’t be focusing on you. He should be focusing on the corruption.”
“If he goes there and pieces things together the way Hadley did, then we’re screwed,” I say quietly.
“It was fate that Kennedy was dying the same night you needed to survive,” Jake says quietly. “And Kennedy Carlyle? The same girl who was the daughter of the drunk drivers who wrecked into your mom? There’s no way that was all for nothing. There’s no way that wasn’t a sign. We’re meant to do this. Not meant to get caught mid-way.”
“We need someone
to speak up and talk about my father,” I murmur absently, watching Logan as he tears off his red tie, frustrated.
Jake stands and goes to the edge of the room, pulling out his wonderful creation of time releasing paint. They’re all labeled differently, each one having a different timeframe for when the paint will appear.
“Then let’s give them some incentive to talk,” Jake says before tugging on his hood and walking toward the door. “Call me if you see anyone slip up on me. I’m going to the school. I’ll disable the school cameras when I get there.”
“Got you covered,” I tell him.
The monitors surrounding us cover the entire town. It’s like staring at hell all day.
“Lana needs to go back home.” Logan’s announcement has me shifting my gaze to his screen.
“Good luck telling Hadley that,” Donny says with a grin.
“This isn’t amusing. She could be in real danger. I knew better than to bring her.”
He looks as though he’s agonizing over this.
“No offense, but you’re just too emotionally invested in her safety to see she’s actually safe. Not one woman has been targeted. Only men. If anything, she’s safer than you are.”
“I don’t trust the sheriff or Johnson right now. This has nothing to do with the Scarlet Slayer.”
Donny’s eyes widen, and so do mine.
“I sound so fucked up. I’m more concerned over two law officials than I am a fucking serial killer. This town is pure toxic,” Logan says on a sigh.
“Johnson is twisted, but he’s not an idiot. He knows he can’t lay a hand on you and get away with it. We need to find some solid evidence to give to Collins so he can give it to the subcommittee.”
“There’s someone obvious we haven’t spoken to since we acquired new evidence,” Logan says thoughtfully. “He only lives about an hour from here.”
“Christopher Denver,” Donny says on an exhale. “Of course.”
Jake’s father. My father’s lawyer. My father’s only friend in a town of traitors.
