by S. T. Abby
He pops in a fresh piece of gum and wipes his hands on his wrinkly, smelly shirt.
“Who else would know about what happened to Evans?” I ask him.
“No one who would talk. Most of the deputies were involved. And Kyle Davenport, of course. He was there. I heard rumors he did basically the same thing to the kids, only he didn’t bring the nails for that night.”
Kyle Davenport seems to be at the root of every problem.
“Any chance he was left handed?”
“Kyle?” Burrows asks, his face paling. When I nod, he barely whispers, “Yes.”
Nineteen. Nineteen is just too young of an age to be so methodical as the original killer. Each kill was filled with rage, according to the reports. A temper tantrum could send a sociopath into a homicidal rage, if Lindy was right and not just abusing the word she used to describe him.
If he’d been ten to twenty years older, he’d fit the profile perfectly.
“We need to find a way to speak with Kyle Davenport,” Leonard says grimly.
“Right now,” I add.
“I’ll call that medium on the way back to Delaney Grove,” he says as we head toward the door. “And I’ll send Hadley over here to see if she can pull anything from the house,” I say on a sigh, closing the door to Burrows’s home behind me.
“Doubtful. Our unsub never leaves any trace.”
“Is that all?” Burrow shouts from behind us, and I turn to see his head poking through the door.
“For now.”
“Can I get a hotel room? I don’t feel safe right now.”
Since I don’t feel like making a scientist see a ghost story as ridiculous, I just nod.
Leonard seems distant, thoughtful even.
“What?” I ask him as we get into the car.
I don’t crank it, because I lift my iPad, bringing up pictures from the previous crime scenes.
He turns to face me. “We haven’t know we were coming here for too long. Our unsub would have had to hit sometime between our decision and our arrival at the home today.”
I nod slowly. “I thought I had something figured out, but apparently that was wrong, because now it’s impossible,” he sighs.
“What?” I ask, curious, my fingers hovering over the screen.
“Nothing that sounds sane anymore. Guess it was all just in my head. What are you looking for?” He gestures toward my iPad.
“The unsub knew Donny and I were being attacked. The unsub knew we were coming today. The unsub has known every move of his or her victims. This unsub is a watcher. There are eyes on us somewhere, and—”
My words cut out when I notice the small holes. I barely remembered them because they seemed so unimportant.
“Each house has these in almost every room,” I tell Leonard. “Except for some of the later kills the unsub sprinted through.” I gesture toward the small holes the size of a nail head.
“Too small to be a camera,” he says.
“We’ve already suspected the unsub of a much higher intelligence. What if she has this sort of technology? It’d explain how she managed to save me in time last night.”
“You’re just saying she now,” he notes.
“Everything in me is saying it was a woman.”
“I believe you,” he says absently.
“You lack the conviction in your tone that you had on the way down here.”
I put the car in drive and push my iPad away. Knowing the unsub is watching us is actually a good thing. Hadley can tap into the video stream if she can find the signal, and possibly even back-hack the unsub to find her.
“Like I said,” Leonard mumbles under his breath, “thought I knew something else.”
Chapter 9
There are truths which are not for all men, nor for all times.
—Voltaire
LOGAN
Two deputies block us the second we step up on the front porch of Kyle Davenport’s home.
“Sorry, Agents, but no one is going in without the sheriff’s permission,” the one in front of me says.
Chad Briggs. I remember him.
I just smirk.
“Unless you guys want me calling more of my guys in because you’re impeding a federal investigation, I suggest you step out of the way.”
Briggs takes a step toward me, a dark challenge in his eyes. “SSA Johnson is the lead on your end. If he wants to come chat with Kyle, I’ll step down. But we’re taking the threat on his life seriously, and you’re not stepping—”
His words end on a grunt when I grab his wrist and twist, sending him face first into the side of the house. Leonard pulls his gun when the other deputy stupidly tries to make a grab for his own weapon.
“Let me be very clear here,” I say to Briggs, wrenching his arm tighter behind him and making him cry out. “I’ll speak to whoever the fuck I want to speak to, considering your guys tried to take me out last night. And if you’re smart, you’ll keep your mouth shut until I’m gone. Or I’ll call in every fucking favor I’m owed inside the FBI to get an entire army of agents in this town, telling them about how the corrupt little fuckwad county deputies are trying to take down a federal agent. Now, do you want to back down, or should I start making all those phone calls.”
He stops struggling, and I feel him go rigid.
“Yeah. Think about what you’d do if one of your guys was targeted by an outsider. I have friends like that too, Deputy.”
He curses, and the other guy turns and heads inside, calling for Kyle as Leonard holsters his weapon.
Briggs rubs his newly injured wrist, and I nudge him, forcing him inside in front of us. I’d rather talk to Kyle alone, but I don’t want them calling the sheriff in like an attack dog before I get a few words in.
“Kyle!” the other deputy shouts again.
“Yeah. Yeah. Coming,” says a voice from down the hall.
Kyle Davenport emerges, wearing nothing but a towel, and an arched eyebrow. “The fuck are you?”
He’s leaner than the other victims, but still solid, as though he works out but doesn’t want bulk. His hair is dark and hanging almost over his dark eyes. He’s tall, a lot like me.
“How about I ask you some questions,” I say with a smirk.
“These are some of the FBI guys,” the other deputy grumbles.
“Thought Dad said to keep those fuck sticks away from me,” Kyle drawls, completely unaffected by our presence.
He drops to a chair, still just wearing a towel.
“What you want with me?” he asks indifferently.
“We actually know quite a bit about you. Just wanted to get a read on the man who raped and murdered two kids when he was only nineteen. A man who also participated in a brutal assault a few nights before,” I toss out there.
Kyle’s lips twitch, but both deputies gasp.
“Hell no! You said you just wanted to talk. Not come in here and accuse him of murder,” Briggs shouts, lifting his phone.
Kyle just eyes me, his head tilting carelessly. He thinks he’s untouchable. Not even a flicker of emotion is on his face. He’s a sociopath. Not a psychopath.
He’s not our guy.
“I have all I need, Deputy,” I say as I stand.
They immediately start calling the cops, but Kyle speaks just as I get to the door.
“That sweet little brunette in town… That your girl, Agent?” Kyle asks, smirking at me when I turn around.
“Yeah.” The word is said with ease, not letting him see the rage simmering close to the surface.
He licks his lips, still smirking. “Better keep her close. Girl like that might get snatched up in a town full of bachelors.”
He expects me to lash out, probably wants me to. The veiled threat is meant to rattle me for his pleasure. It takes every ounce of effort I have not to let him win.
“Funny. I was just thinking how Lana would probably make you wish you’d never been born,” I say carelessly.
Leonard relaxes at my side, following
my lead as he forces his posture to exhibit a calmness.
“Women love me,” Kyle goads. “They love everything I do to them. I bet she’d like it too.”
Leonard steps in before I can lose my cool.
“I guess you don’t watch the news, do you?” Leonard asks him, holding the door open for our exit.
“Not much time for the news,” Kyle drawls.
“Figured,” Leonard goes on. “Or you’d know that Lana is the one who killed the Boston serial killer known as the Boogeyman.”
Kyle’s smirk vanishes, and he studies us, probably searching for a lie.
“With his own knife,” I add, holding a smile that relays a darkness I’m not used to feeling.
“After he attacked her,” Leonard goes on. “He was twice her size and had raped and murdered several women. She beat the shit out of him and stabbed him, ended his life when he came for her.”
With that, Leonard walks out, and I force myself to do the same. Yeah, he exaggerated the story, but Kyle wasn’t smirking when I turned back around.
“He won’t touch her now,” Leonard says quietly.
“I should get her the fuck out of this town,” I say in a tone just barely above a whisper as we get into the vehicle, not looking back.
With all the driving, it’s already getting late now. The sun isn’t far from setting, and all I want to do is hold Lana against me and feel her safe.
“Kyle Davenport may or may not have been our serial killer back then, but I guarantee you he’s going to be one soon, if he’s not already,” Leonard says as we drive back toward the cabins.
“And he just threatened my girlfriend.”
“Like I said, he won’t do anything. Telling him she’s not some weak girl he can dominate didn’t settle well with him.”
“And if he perceives it as a challenge?” I point out.
“He’s not interested in a challenge. He wants easy,” he says on a sigh. “Lana is safer with us than alone somewhere else right now.”
I shift in my seat, driving faster through the town. “My job keeps putting her at risk.”
“Occupational hazard,” he says grimly. “She can handle it, Logan. She may be one of the few who can.”
“But how selfish is it of me to ask her to handle it?”
He doesn’t get to answer, because we’re pulling up at the cabin where the sheriff and Johnson are standing outside and waiting on me. Lana is guarding the door, her hip cocked as she smirks at them when we get out.
“Sheriff, you can say all you want, but you’re not getting by me without putting your hands on me. If you do that, I’ll press charges for assault. I don’t care if it’s your cabin. There’s a little thing called the law that you can’t search this place when it’s occupied by guests, unless said guests give you permission. I can pull it up on my phone for you, if you’d like.”
She’s poised, staring them down, and Johnson’s jaw is tight.
“You have no right to—”
“What the hell is going on here?” I demand, stepping up on the porch.
Lana wags her finger at the sheriff when he tries to barge by her. Somehow, she manages to block his path, despite his size.
“Don’t want to touch me sheriff. My phone is recording every bit of this, and I’ll make it go live.”
He looks around, and she smiles. “I’m not stupid enough to leave it in plain sight.”
“I said what the hell is going on!”
I step in front of the sheriff, shielding Lana. “You crossed a line today,” the sheriff growls. “And I got a call that you were seen buying drugs off Lenny Tolls, the local dealer. So I’m here to search your room. When I find something, I’ll be shipping your ass back to your superiors to deal with.”
“You’re fucking kidding me with this, right?” Leonard snaps.
Unbelievable. They’re getting desperate and overreaching now that I’ve talked to his son.
“I already told them that if they let Elise and them search their guys, they could come in and look,” Lana states with a sweet smile but daring eyes.
The sheriff glares at her, and my hand goes to her hip, trying to tug her back. I don’t want him viewing her as a target, damn it.
“Why would I let you fucking search me?” the sheriff barks.
“Because if you have something you plan on planting in here, then it’d be smart to have you searched. If you have nothing to hide, then why not let them search you?” Lana goes on, refusing to just shut up as she shoulders her way to my side again.
“You need a leash on her, Bennett. Now step aside if you have nothing to hide,” Johnson barks.
Lana starts to open her mouth, and I slide my hand over it, tugging her closer. She doesn’t fight me, but she does lick my fucking hand like an errant child.
“Let them search you, and I will,” I say with a shrug.
Lana relaxes at my side. She’s fucking brilliant and seriously observant.
Leonard restrains a grin.
“I’m not letting you search me,” the sheriff growls.
“Then I’m not letting you in here.”
“It’s my motherfucking cabin.”
“That the bureau has paid for and leased it until this case is solved. It’s listed under my name. To gain access, you need my permission, or a search warrant, that will have to go through several channels, considering I’m on an active case that involves corruption in this town. You’d be surprised how many people would come pay a visit when accusations like this so conveniently pop up.”
The sheriff takes a step back, his eyes narrowing to slits. He points a finger at me. “Stay the fuck away from my son. This ain’t over. I’ll get you out of my town, boy.”
“It’s SSA Bennett to you, Sheriff. Good luck with that. I’ll be busy proving you’re a corrupt, murdering, lying son of a bitch while you work on getting me out.”
He pales a little, and Lana smirks against my hand; I can feel it. Apparently she’s proud.
She should be.
He could have caused a shit-ton of problems with false bullshit getting planted in here and ‘found’ by him.
Johnson glares daggers at me.
“This is my fucking case! You’re only here as a courtesy!” Johnson snarls.
“This is my fucking team. You’re only here because you’re covering your ass. The director can only do so much for you, Johnson. It’s only a matter of time before people take notice of the attention he’s paying you and this case. Don’t push your luck.”
He curses, and I watch as he and the sheriff turn and walk away. Leonard visibly relaxes, then looks over at Lana.
“How’d you know what he was going to do?” he asks her.
She shrugs as I release her mouth completely, and wipe my wet hand on the leg of my jeans.
“Saw it on some crime episode one time. The bad cop got rid of the good one by framing him with drugs. Figured it was a good possibility in a town like this, and I didn’t want to risk it.”
Elise steps onto the porch. “Hadley’s inside with a camera. She recorded the entire thing. Since Lana is staying here as well, she had the right to block their entry. She did good.”
Elise says this as though she’s surprised.
I cup Lana’s chin and tilt her head up before staring down at her eyes. “Don’t fuck with either of them. The last thing I need is a target painted on your back.”
“I wasn’t fucking with them. I was simply stating my rights as a citizen of the United States,” she says innocently. She even bats her fucking eyelashes, and Leonard snorts, turning away as his body shakes with silent laughter.
“I’m serious,” I tell her sternly.
She continues to bat those eyelashes over faux innocent eyes. “I’ll never just bend over and take it, SSA Bennett. Unless I’m bending over for you, of course.”
Leonard does lose it now, laughing as he walks away. I groan as her lips etch up in a smile. Lisa mutters something, surprising me with her presence as she
steps away from the side of the cabin.
Lana battles a smile unsuccessfully, and I roll my eyes.
“Hadley, you’re staying here tonight. The rest of us have somewhere else to be. Keep your eyes open,” I tell her while tugging Lana against me.
“Always got my eyes open, Bennett,” Hadley quips as she stands and walks toward the door.
As she steps out, I push Lana against the wall and crush my lips to hers, shutting her up before she can talk more. She moans into my mouth, gripping my shirt to pull me closer.
And I decide my plans can wait.
Chapter 10
Chance is a word void of sense; nothing can exist without a cause.
—Voltaire
LANA
“Do you believe in coincidence?” I ask Jake as I prop my feet up on the dash of his car.
We’re lurking in the car, parked in the shadows, and watching the long line form for the one-night-only Sin House. You’d think people would realize this little one-night show gets more action than anything in town all year long. It should attest to the fact the sick people around here are dark and demented from years of oppression.
“Coincidence? Yes.”
“Coincidences as big as ours?”
He sighs hard. “What’s this about, Lana? You’re seriously starting to worry me.”
I toy with the ends of my hair, staring down at it while we wait.
“Marcus always believed that nothing happened by chance. That everything was interweaved in fate’s plan, and that there was a purpose for everything.”
“What purpose is there in what happened ten years ago to your entire family and the only man I’ve ever loved?” He asks the question calmly, but he’s good at hiding his anger.
“I didn’t say it was a good purpose,” I tell him softly, reaching over to lace our fingers together.
He squeezes my hand and inhales deeply.
“If it hadn’t been our family, it would have been another,” I go on.
He lays his head back, staring down the end of his nose at the ever-growing line to the Sin House.
“What would Marcus say the reason was?” he asks, though his voice is rasp.
