“I was with the FBI at the time. I worked on the profile for the Latin Lothario. My profile ended up being completely wrong, or at least I thought it was.”
“I doubt that. You’re the most conscientious person I know. And shouldn’t there have been other people working on that profile as well?”
“There were. But everyone sort of went along with me, and when my profile turned out to be inaccurate I caught a lot of flak. I knew then that my time at the FBI was up.”
“That’s why you left?”
He wasn’t certain why she was telling him this right now.
“That, and I had another reason. Just before the last victim was taken, I started to receive love letters in the mail. Poems about how my lover was watching me.”
“He targeted you?” Okay, this was something she definitely should have told him. Why had she kept this all to herself? He’d thought they told each other everything. That there were no lies, no secrets. A sick feeling developed in his stomach.
“Yes. Only, he never used any Latin phrases. I told my supervisor at the FBI, and he kind of freaked. He wanted me to keep it quiet. He was all about preserving the public image of the FBI. He didn’t want us to seem vulnerable.”
“And you being targeted by a serial killer makes the FBI seem vulnerable?”
She shrugged. “I guess so. They set up surveillance around my place, but he stopped sending me letters and started sending flowers with notes instead. Paid for with stolen credit cards. It was a nightmare. I didn’t know what to do. I should have; I was an FBI agent. I should have felt confident and in charge. I tried to act that way but, on the inside, I was terrified.”
“What happened?” He didn’t like that she’d been so scared. But he also didn’t like that she’d kept this from him.
“I still thought my profile was correct. I never imagined I was wrong. Two weeks later, the Latin Lothario was shot and killed while dumping the body of his last victim. He was nothing like the man I had profiled, but I did know him. Every day, he used to run past my place when I was leaving for work. He’d call out ‘ciao bella,’ and I’d try not to get a secret thrill. I was desperate for any sort of affection, I guess. I messed up so badly. He was right there, under my nose, and I didn’t even see it because I was so sure I was right.”
“But he’s dead.”
“Yes. So, either this man is a copycat. Or the Latin Lothario had an accomplice. Someone who knew about me.”
“Who knew he sent you those letters?”
“My supervisor. His supervisor. The lead agents on the case. My cousins. Me.”
“That’s it?”
“I think so. The FBI didn’t want anyone knowing he’d set his sights on me. The lead agents thought they could use me to trap him.”
“So, a serial killer sent you letters, ran past you every day, and you didn’t think to tell me any of this? That guy is dead and you now think a copycat took Rory? Is he targeting Rory because of you? To try and draw you out?”
She licked her lips, looking nervous, and he realized she’d already reached that conclusion. “I think it’s possible that’s exactly what he’s doing. He chose my boyfriend’s sister as his next victim. He chose my cousin’s club to send a message. And he wasn’t trying to hide. He looked right at the camera when he signaled eight.”
“Wait. What message? What signal?” What was she talking about? He realized he was missing some threads. How had she come to the conclusion that this guy was the Latin Lothario or a copycat or whatever?
“You know when they were walking through the parking lot? Well, he made some sort of signal with his fingers. At first, I thought it was nothing. But last night in bed I must have been running over it in my dreams and when I woke up I had the number eight playing in my mind. That’s why I texted Travis to meet me this morning at the club. Jace managed to zoom in on his hands and enlarge them. He signalled VIII. The Latin Lothario killed seven women.”
“Eight. So what does that mean? That Rory is going to be victim number eight?” His stress level soared. He started to pace. “And you think this message was aimed at you? It’s too much of a coincidence not to be.” He stopped and looked over at her. “Does he fit your profile?”
She blinked. “Yes.”
“So, it’s possible the cops got the wrong guy. This guy could be the real Latin Lothario and he targeted Rory because of you.”
Because of you.
The accusation was like a blow to her stomach, and tears of pain welled in her eyes. She blinked them back. “Yes, I suppose that could be the case.”
She should have told him. But she’d thought the Latin Lothario was dead. It was possible it was all some big misunderstanding. But she knew it wasn’t. She could feel it in her gut. And even though she’d been questioning herself these last few months, ever since everything went wrong with the Latin Lothario case, she felt she was right.
He’d come after Rory because of her. Gray had every right to be mad.
“And you didn’t think to tell me any of this before? You didn’t think I should know that you’d been targeted by a serial killer?”
His face grew cold. “You didn’t share any of this with me. The man you supposedly love.”
There was no supposedly about it. She blinked rapidly. “I couldn’t.”
“Couldn’t or wouldn’t?” he snapped. “And now my sister pays for your lies.”
She didn’t see it that way. Even if she’d told him everything, Rory might still have been targeted. This case was supposed to be over. The Latin Lothario was dead. But she didn’t think Gray wanted her logic right now. He wanted someone to blame.
“I didn’t know the case wasn’t over. That this would happen.”
“No. But these lies make me wonder what else you could keep from me if you could so easily hold back something this big. You know I can’t stand lies. A relationship can’t survive miscommunication. I have to be able to trust you to be with you.”
And he couldn’t trust her anymore. She got it.
“Why didn’t you tell me about your suspicions this morning?”
“Because I wasn’t sure.” She’d wanted to be wrong.
He slammed his hand down on the desk. Hard. She jumped with a cry as fury lit his face. “And this is the problem with our relationship. You don’t share. You don’t tell me the important stuff. This can’t go on.”
“You’re right. It can’t. I’m sorry. Really sorry.” Turning, she fled the room. As she raced down the passage, she heard someone yell her name, but she didn’t know who it was and she didn’t care. Running out into the street, she sped across the road and into the park that lay opposite. She sprinted down the path, uncaring that it was dusk and probably not the safest place to be on her own.
He was right. This was all her fault.
Idiot. Why hadn’t she told him? She’d meant to. She’d been going to, but it never seemed like the right time.
But when was the right time to tell someone you’d been stalked by a serial killer?
Her breath heaving in and out of her burning lungs, she dropped to a walk. Sobs wracked her body. She’d finally done it. She’d ruined the best thing that had ever happened to her. It had been inevitable she supposed, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less.
Unable to carry on, her legs burning with pain, she stopped and leaned over, panting.
“Got change, lady?”
Jesus. Talk about terrible timing.
“No.”
“You sure? I only need one more dollar to make nine. I like the number nine.”
It didn’t click for a moment, then she straightened. And looked up into the face she knew all too well. Before she could scream or run, he swung out his hand and something pricked her neck. Then everything went black.
***
Gray stared at the door, as though expecting it to open, and for Lacey to reappear.
Go after her.
How could he? After she’d kept something so big from him? This w
He’d basically blamed Lacey for Rory being taken, which wasn’t right. This wasn’t Lacey’s fault. It was the fault of the asshole who’d kidnapped Rory and perhaps stalked Lacey. The thought made him ill. This jerk could be after Lacey. Could be coming for her.
And you just drove her away. Made her think that you don’t want to be with her anymore.
He didn’t want to lose her.
“You stupid asshole!”
Gray didn’t even look up as Travis stormed into the room. “I don’t have the patience to deal with you right now, Andrews.”
“Well, you’re gonna have to deal with me.” Travis grabbed his shirt, pulling him up and shaking him.
Gray snarled and broke his hold. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
“Believe me, I don’t want to. But when you do something to my cousin that causes her to race out of here with tears streaming down her face, then I need to do something.”
“What goes on between Lacey and me is none of your business.” His gut tightened at the other man’s words. Tears?
“Oh, yes, it is. My brothers and I are the only family she has and we protect our own.”
“Aren’t you forgetting her parents?”
“If you know anything about her life, then you’ll know they’re the most fucking useless parents on the planet. At least to her. Apparently, my aunt is quite a good mother to her stepkids. Bitch.”
It was a thought he’d often had.
“That doesn’t give you the right to stick your nose into our relationship. It’s private, and we’ll work it out on our own.” He attempted to move around the other man. “Now, I have to go find my sister.”
Travis stretched out an arm, stopping him. “Like fuck you will. You and I are going to sort this out right now, because no way am I standing by while you treat my cousin like shit.”
Gray shoved him back, his control barely hanging by a thread. He’d reached the end of his patience. “Fuck off, Andrews.”
“You made her cry.”
And that seemed to be some cardinal sin in the Andrews family. But he didn’t like that he’d upset Lacey either.
“Where’d she go?” He should check on her. He might be mad at her right now, but he didn’t like that she’d run off crying.
“Like I’m going to tell you. I’m not letting you anywhere near her until you get your shit together and realize she’s the best thing that ever happened to you.”
“She kept this from me. You can’t tell me that if your girlfriend, your sub, the woman you loved kept something this big from you that you wouldn’t be mad.”
“She wouldn’t sit comfortably for a week,” Travis told him.
Gray nodded. “See? We agree then.” He went to move past him again. Travis shoved him back. Gray growled at him. “Do that again, and we’re gonna have more than words.”
“Bring it,” Travis snapped back. “Because I’m not leaving.”
“You just said you’d punish your sub for keeping something so big from you.”
“Sure, I’d punish her. I’d also try to understand why she’d keep something so big from me. To figure out what was going on underneath the surface. All her life Lacey has tried to be perfect. She needs to learn it’s okay to make mistakes. Not telling you about all of this was a mistake. But she needed you to be okay with that. Instead, you failed her.”
Had he failed her? He’d basically told her he couldn’t be with her and he blamed her for Rory disappearing. He hadn’t considered why she’d kept this from him.
“Did Lacey tell you about Brax’s death?” Travis asked as Gray sank into a chair. Seemed he wasn’t going anywhere soon.
“Yes, she told me.” Where was he going with this?
“Did she tell you that afterwards she stopped eating?”
Gray raised his head with a frown.
“The stress got to her,” Travis said. “Her parents held her partly to blame for Brax’s death, which is fucking ridiculous. But instead of looking at the role they played in his death, it was easier to blame their other child. And Lacey, being the serious and sensitive kid she was, took it all on board. Wasn’t long until she thought she was to blame.”
He nodded. He knew all of this.
“She grew so stressed her hair started to fall out. She stopped talking. As soon as my father saw her, looking like a shell of herself, he took her home with him. He told my aunt and uncle that he’d report them for child abuse if they tried to stop him. He found her a counselor, got her talking and eating again. Then my dad died, and she had to go back to living with her parents. Soon after, my aunt left for Florida, which ended up being a good thing. My uncle turned to booze to cope, but at least he left Lacey alone for the most part.”
“He didn’t. When he was drunk, he used to tell her that it was her fault her brother died.”
Travis stared at him. “She never told me that.” He ran his hand over his face. “Fuck. When she got the profile wrong for the Latin Lothario, when she discovered she’d seen him every day and never suspected a thing, she felt like she’d failed. She couldn’t face those assholes she worked with and she quit. Because she thought she’d messed up. You seeing the pattern?”
And he’d made her feel the same. He didn’t need Travis to say it. He might as well have come straight out and told her it was her fault that Rory had been taken. Shit. “I’m still not happy she kept this from me. I warned her the one thing I wouldn’t stand for was being lied to.”
“And what would you do if you were in her place? A new job, new city, new boyfriend she probably wanted to impress. Would you tell all your deepest, darkest secrets? Your failures?”
“It wasn’t her failure,” he growled.
“Not the way she sees it. Should she have told you eventually? Yeah, she should have. So, and I can’t believe I’m saying this about my own cousin, spank her ass. Make her see that keeping things from you isn’t going to be tolerated. I’m sure you can think of several ways of making her regret keeping things from you. But don’t let her feel that this asshole’s actions are her fault, because they’re not.”
No, it wasn’t. But that was exactly what he’d done. He didn’t want to lose her over this. He knew he’d reacted so harshly because he was stressed. He’d been an asshole.
“I need to talk to her.”
“Yeah, you do.” Travis was turning to the door when it opened and Jace walked in.
“We’ve got something,” he said.
Gray and Travis followed him back into the conference room. Gray looked up at the screen at what looked like an old newspaper article with a grainy, black and white photo.
“It’s from ten years back,” Jace explained. “Connor got a hit on the facial recognition software and sent this through.” He enlarged the photo.
“That’s him?” Gray asked.
Jace nodded. “The quality of the image is poor, though, so we can’t be a hundred percent sure.”
“What’s the article about?” Travis asked.
“It’s about the disappearance of a teenage girl. Maisy Stone. They’re interviewing her uncle, Alan Stone, who basically pleads for any information about her disappearance.”
“Do you think she could have been his first victim?” Gray asked. “From ten years ago? His own niece?”
“Possibly,” Travis answered. “Serial killers can stop killing for a while then start up again. Have you found him yet?”
“Not yet,” said the woman who still had her face glued to her laptop screen. “There are a lot of Alan Stones, but I’ll find him.”
“Alexa is good at what she does,” Travis told him. “I want him found. Now. And where the hell is Lacey, anyway? If you guys sent her out to get coffee on her own, then heads will roll. I want her under surveillance twenty-four seven. She doesn’t take a piss without one of you getting up in her business.”
The whole room stilled. Oh, shit.
“We thought she was with you guys,” Jace told them. “You don’t know where she is?”
“No, we don’t know. Fuck! I want her found. Yesterday!” Travis yelled.
Chapter Eighteen
Lacey cried out as her whole body slammed against something. Ouch! She groaned and opened her eyes, her vision blurry. Where was she? And why did her mouth feel like she’d been sucking on cotton balls? She knew it wasn’t a hangover because she never had more than one drink. But her head was pounding, and her stomach lurched sickeningly.
“Wake up, my dear. Come on, let me see those beautiful eyes.”
She blinked. Who was that? What was he doing in her bedroom? As her vision cleared she realized she wasn’t in her bedroom. She glanced around. The smell of unwashed bodies and days old garbage hit her and she nearly gagged. She stared up at the man leaning over her. Fear made her heart race.
“You,” she whispered. “You kidnapped me.”
The older man smiled, showing off a row of perfect, white teeth. Maybe he might be considered handsome by some, but to her he was the ugliest man she’d ever seen.
“Why? Why me?” Why had he set this all up to get her?
“Because you are my biggest triumph. A gorgeous female FBI agent. You’ll make an excellent victim for my next book. All of the others were just practice until I found you.” His face darkened. “Well, until Victor found you.”
Book? What book? “Victor? The Latin Lothario?”
He started to laugh. “Victor was never the Latin Lothario. He didn’t know Latin from French. He was an idiot. But a useful idiot. He made an excellent scapegoat, don’t you think? Everyone thought they had caught the Latin Lothario. They didn’t realize I was lying in wait, biding my time until I could take you.”
Holy shit. So she’d been right all along? Her profile hadn’t been wrong.
There was a whimpering noise and her eyes cut to the corner of the room where she saw a bedraggled, naked woman sitting on the floor. The man turned, snarling at the girl, and she shied backward, something clinking. It was then that Lacey realized she was chained to the floor. Oh, God.
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