by S. T. Abby
Her eyes widen, and everyone around us shifts awkwardly.
“What about Kyle?” I ask Donny, moving my eyes away from Lisa.
Fuck it. I’ll have her ass shipped to another unit regardless.
“You mean other than he vanished into thin air? Well, let’s see, over five women have already told us this morning what he did to them in the Haunted House over the years. The girlfriend met us in private, saying usually he makes a second girl join them on the nights he gets really drunk. She’s broken up with him three times, and has ended up in the ER three times.”
Leonard’s gaze swings to mine, and my lips tense. Something tells me he already knew that.
“So he’s an abusive bastard with a fetish for raping women. We can all agree that he doesn’t deserve to keep breathing clean air. Now I’m asking if there’s any news about him.”
They all shake their heads, and I walk around, wondering if anyone on the team is willing to put this girl behind bars if we manage to find her.
I even question it myself.
But this is a proxy killer. Has to be. No one was personally invested in these people enough to have revenge on a personal level. That makes her twice as dangerous, because she’ll find another target to obsess over, and she’ll eventually kill innocent people for minor infractions.
It sucks.
It really sucks.
But she can’t just walk away from this.
She’ll probably end up in an asylum as opposed to prison, but she sure as hell is too dangerous to leave on the streets, no matter what personal quandaries we’re all suffering over this.
The entire team is compromised by this point, because the victims make it hard to be compassionate. It’s the future I’m most worried about.
“Now get out there and find my damn son, or I swear this town will never sleep again!” the sheriff shouts, his face red as a bloated tomato on the verge of exploding.
“We need to deliver our profile to the psych hospitals in the surrounding areas,” I say as the people listen to the sheriff rant for a few more minutes.
“If our unsub was mentally unstable, they wouldn’t have the control to pull this off,” Leonard argues.
“A partner changes everything. There’s always a dominant in the partnership. This time, however, the dominant figure isn’t the actual killer.”
“Then who is?” Elise asks.
“Send someone back to Jacob Denver’s house. Something was off when we paid him a visit,” I tell them.
“It can’t be him,” Leonard sighs. “This partner would have had to be able to aid in painting these messages and all the other crazy shit. Jacob isn’t physically capable of any of that. You saw the medical records.”
“Our—I mean the killer, wouldn’t have needed Jacob’s help for that. He could have just masterminded all this,” I point out.
Leonard gives me a grim look before shaking his head like he’s disappointed. Then he walks away.
“What’s his deal?” Donny asks, confused.
“He’s having a rough day,” I lie, unsure why I’m even lying.
Just as the crowd is about to disperse on a fruitless trek through the woods to look for Kyle, the church bells blare their song.
My brow furrows, and I tilt my head, wondering why bells would sound at six-fifteen in the morning. Usually they only chime on the hour.
There’s a large, curious looking tarp-like bag hanging from the bell tower of the church.
There’s a suspicious looking rope tied to one of the clock hands on the tower, and I watch as it clicks down to six-sixteen, and something suddenly swings out of the bag.
A collective gasp sounds out seconds before screams break across the park. People heave, spin away from the sight, and several start running like fire is on their heels.
The sheriff staggers, his eyes wide, his skin pale, and his legs weak. He crashes against a deputy who helps steady him. The deputies who aren’t stunned to their spots are racing toward the church, along with Lisa and Donny.
Even my stomach roils as I stare at the tower in complete horror.
I’m not sure if it’s Kyle Davenport I see hanging, considering there’s not a piece of flesh to make him identifiable, but everyone here has the same conclusion.
Even if we can’t identify him, we all know it’s him.
The rope holds his neck, and his naked, fleshless body dangles from the tower as the bells chime on. If she wanted to make a statement that would incite a full-blown panic, she just won that war.
Then again, the mastermind probably planned this.
They knew this park would be crowded down with people at this time, even though the meeting was impromptu. They know the sheriff. They knew what he would do before he even did it.
The castrated corpse sways, crashing against the brick on occasion. And I can’t look away.
Who is capable of something this depraved and dark without being psychotic?
“Still think she should have a happy life?” I ask quietly as Leonard swallows audibly.
“I expected him to be found in the worst condition,” he says on a breath. “He orchestrated it all.”
I shake my head. “This is someone with a psychosis so deep, they feel they have the right to do this, even though they themselves were never wronged personally.”
“And if your sister had ever been subjected to Kyle Davenport, would you feel this was too much?” Leonard asks, a hard edge to his voice.
“I don’t have a sister,” I say before walking toward the chaos.
Elise hobbles up next to me, and I slow down so she doesn’t have to struggle to keep up. “You think this was the endgame?” Elise asks, looking over at the gruesome sight before flicking her gaze back to me.
It seems unlikely this was the end, considering the unsub isn’t displaying the usual signs of devolvement.
“I honestly don’t know.”
Lisa comes jogging up to us, her color curiously puce. She looks like she’s on the verge of being sick.
“Skinned and castrated?” I ask her.
She nods, swallowing hard. “All ten fingers are missing as well.”
That should have been a given.
“There was one new thing besides the complete flaying,” she says, grimacing.
“What?”
“The eyes were sewn open.”
Chapter 14
It is dangerous to be right when the government is wrong.
—Voltaire
LANA
“You can’t hurt Lisa,” Hadley tells me as I throw another knife into the picture of the offending bitch she speaks of.
It hits right between her eyes, and I go to pull it out.
“I’m getting out my anger. Not plotting her murder,” I say dully.
“You’re throwing a knife at her face.”
“Her picture,” I correct.
I feel her glare, but elect to ignore it.
“Do I want to know how you got so good with knives?”
I line up my next shot and take it, landing the knife in Lisa’s throat. Oh, how I wish. Too bad that’s not going to happen. After all, I can’t kill someone for simply pissing me off.
Unfortunately.
“Come on. Logan doesn’t want you left alone, and apparently I have a crime scene to go investigate,” Hadley says on a long sigh.
“It’s Kyle Davenport, and he was skinned alive before dying. There. Your job just got easier,” I state dryly.
She strangles on a sound, and I turn to face her.
“Need me to recite some of those details of all the horrible things he did to wipe that horror off your face?” I ask.
She shakes her head vigorously. “I can’t stomach hearing anything else that psycho has done. I just… You skinned him alive?”
I nod. “Yep. I was careful to remove the skin piece by piece and only the top layers, so that he didn’t bleed too much during my fun.”
I pull my knife free from Lisa’s picture, then g
rab her picture—that I printed off from Hadley’s computer—and toss the annihilated photo into the trash, covering it with some other rubbish.
“That’s not creepy at all,” Hadley mutters.
“I torture and kill men. Being creepy should be a given.”
She studies me, and a frown creases her lips.
“You’re even colder than usual.”
“Usually I have more time with Logan after facing the worst side of me to do what needs to be done. Lisa was eager to interrupt that this morning, and it’s fortunate I have my killer on a leash. She pushed at all the wrong times. I need cooling down periods after going that dark. It’s how I keep my sanity. I’ve had to raise the timelines, losing a piece of myself with each kill.”
I follow her out, and considering the jammed up streets, we elect to walk, moving briskly down the sidewalk.
“I’m worried about you, Lana. You’re telling me you’re losing yourself and struggling with not murdering Lisa.”
I roll my eyes. “If I was going to kill her, I would have already done it while everyone was distracted with Kyle’s flayed body.”
She gags, and I smirk.
“Seriously. You’re normally not this cold and detached,” she says as we walk toward the town where the chaos I unleashed is fully at play.
I wanted to see the looks on their faces when they discovered Kyle, but knew it wasn’t smart to be present. Jake and I drove like hell to get back in time to hang the body, and I still haven’t slept.
“I’m almost done,” I say as I ignore the tremor in my hand.
Killing Kyle the way I did… Digging deep enough to give him the true torture he deserved over such a limited amount of time… A lot was taken out of me. I felt rushed, and I made him pay for it.
I don’t regret anything but not having more time to draw out his suffering.
“She’s a bitch, I know. But she doesn’t deserve any of your stabby urges.”
I hold my hands up innocently, absently listening to the sobs of the people I may or may not have scarred for life. As of this morning, they no longer fear the sheriff who has always protected his son. Now they fear the one person who can break the untouchable.
They belong to me now.
The flock have a new shepherd to fear. Baa, bitches.
“I’m not going to stab her. Promise.”
My emotions aren’t in check the way they normally are. They’re all over the place, and the memories I’ve controlled with each kill ran awry, stirring up all the feelings I iced so long ago. It’s killing me not to go for the endgame now. Not to hit the sheriff before the shock of his son wears off.
I want him to marinate in his grief for longer than a few moments though. I want him broken before I arrive for the next phase.
“You got sloppy with counter forensics. You should have dragged him.”
“I’d have been caught.”
“They know you have a partner.”
“I’m aware.”
I grin over at her as she rolls her eyes, and I force the composure that normally comes with so much ease. It’s fractured right now, and I don’t have time to regroup before it’s time to bring out the arsenal.
I have to strike soon, just not too soon.
I pop a piece of gum into my mouth, and Hadley groans when she sees Lisa talking to Logan and Leonard.
“Please behave. This is a crime scene, and you can’t give me another one.” Her tone is joking, but also serious.
“I’ll be good,” I say with a dark smile, my eyes on Lisa as I picture what her screams would be like.
I really need to get my control back before I cut her a little.
That would be bad.
“Witnesses are all around,” Hadley says in a singsong voice.
I keep staring at Lisa as she tries to touch Logan. He wisely backs away, not letting her touch connect with his arm. His back is to me, but Lisa spots me, and a devious smile curves her lips.
Oh, I could so teach her a lesson.
Hadley starts getting worried again, stepping in front of me to cut off my vision.
“Don’t, Lana. I’m onboard with your crusade, but I’m not cool with petty cattiness.”
My eyebrows go up, but before I can speak, Lisa’s voice interrupts.
“It’s sad that she has to hurt the team by needing a constant babysitter,” Lisa says, because she’s stupid enough to provoke someone who could kick her ass for hours and never grow tired.
“Go. Away,” Hadley snaps, glaring at Lisa.
Lisa snickers as she starts walking by, and I spit my gum out. Because I’m an awesome aim, it lands right in the back of her hair, hitting hard enough to imbed in there real good.
Lisa gasps and grabs the back of her hair, whirling around with wide eyes that look ridiculous paired with that gaping mouth.
I grin and wag my fingers at her before walking again, moving toward Logan.
Hadley groans while running to catch up with me.
“Now that was petty,” I quip, grinning proudly.
Oddly, I don’t feel so stabby anymore. I doubt I could spit gum out at all my impending victims and feel free, but with Lisa, it seems to do the trick.
I should buy more gum.
“I can’t believe you did that,” Hadley hisses, but I can tell she’s biting back a smile that matches my immature one.
“Better than sending her roses from a serial killer.” I shrug, and Hadley’s smile vanishes.
“Too soon?” I ask, playing coy.
She flips me off and walks away just as Logan walks up, eyeing the interaction between us.
“You’re not Hadley’s friend until she flips you off at least twice,” he says, cupping my chin and tilting my head back.
“Then we must be besties because she uses that gesture quite often with me.”
He smiles, but I see the heaviness in his eyes and how weighted he feels. Kyle’s body was too much for him, and I knew it before I delivered it to the town.
He doesn’t understand.
Jake’s words try to climb into my head, but I ignore them, forcing myself to focus on the here and now.
“As soon as this case is over, I’m taking a long, overdue vacation and turning my phone off for at least a week. We’ll go somewhere they can’t find us,” he says, running his lips over mine.
I entertain the illusion, distancing myself from reality as I stay the Lana Myers he loves, and not the girl he’s chasing.
“I’ll take you up on that, SSA Bennett.”
He grins against my lips, but a loud shout has us breaking apart.
“My son is dead, and you’re making out with your girlfriend after they just cut down his body!” the sheriff shouts, outraged as he charges Logan full speed.
Two deputies charge us as well, but Logan’s fist shoots out, connecting with one face before he lands a hit to the sheriff’s stomach, halting the attack as the dickheaded man doubles over.
My instincts take over before I can refrain, and my hand flies up, slamming into the throat of the third man before his punch can land on me. He coughs and his eyes bug out, and Leonard tackles him to the ground, while Donny wrangles the other one back.
Leonard’s eyes meet mine, and for a brief moment, I panic. My movements were precise, showing far more experience than Lana Myers should have.
“Nice reflexes,” he says, giving me a tight smile as he cuffs the man on the ground.
Logan spins the sheriff, shoving him into a tree and cuffing his hands behind his back.
“Get your fucking hands off them!” Johnson shouts, charging toward us. “You can’t arrest the sheriff!”
“He attacked a federal agent,” Leonard says. “Just as they did.”
“I didn’t,” the one under him groans.
Leonard makes him cry out in pain as he tightens the cuffs more. “No, you tried to attack a defenseless woman.”
I really don’t like being called that. It’s rather insulting.
I turn
around, walking away before Johnson pisses me off too much. Logan is one hell of a fucking trigger for me, because I want to blow Johnson’s head off even as he and Logan argue, their voices raising.
The war has started, and it’s not too long before Logan is sent away. We’ve guessed their every move. We’ve already hit checkmate, but they still think it’s the middle of the game.
I can’t blow it all by stabbing Johnson right between the eyes in the middle of the park full of badges and witnesses.
So I walk away. I count to ten. Then to two thousand. I jog. I run. I fucking meditate.
But the urge to kill those sons of bitches is still raw and raging inside me. I’m fighting to hold back my urges until the endgame. Right now it feels almost impossible.
For once, I’m worried about my sanity.
So I call the only person who cares enough to help talk me down.
“Talk me down,” I say to Jake, my heart thumping heavily. “Talk me down now.”
“Ducks have corkscrew penises,” he says as my footsteps pause. “Come on over. I’ll show you some pictures. Nasty little fuckers.”
I roll my eyes, finding myself smiling for no reason at all. “Do I want to know why you know about this?”
“I have a vast amount of useless, sometimes disturbing knowledge for purposes such as this. The more random, the better to throw you off your game with, my dear.”
“I don’t want to see corkscrew penises.”
“Then I’ll pull up a blue waffle for you. Come over. Now. Before you do something stupid.”
“What is a blue waffle?”
I can almost hear his mocking grin. “You’ll see. Guarantee you won’t be thinking about killing for a while. Your mind will need to be bleached.”
“The things I do to stay sane,” I grumble, changing course as I go to investigate this blue waffle thing.
Chapter 15
It is forbidden to kill; therefore all murderers are punished, unless they kill in large numbers and to the sound of trumpets.
—Voltaire
LOGAN
“Hey,” I say, relaxing when Lana answers the phone.
I don’t blame her for bailing on the madness that followed the sheriff’s unprovoked attack, but I’ve been worried since she hasn’t answered her phone for the past few hours.
