Her Devoted HERO (Black Dawn Book 2)

by Caitlyn O'Leary

  “We don’t have time.”

  “You have to make time. I’m telling you, she’ll tell you what you need to know.”

  “All right, I’ll call her on the way to Buddy’s house.”

  Penny squeezed his arm and shook her head. “A call won’t get it done.”

  He hesitated.

  “Goddammit, Dex. You know I’m right!” Shit, now he knew where Kenna got it from. She was right.

  “Okay, I’ll go now.”

  She gave a tight nod and let go of his arm. He went out the door. Hunter was in his truck and had it started up when he sprinted to his jeep. It didn’t need to be said that they were going to take two vehicles in case they needed to split up. When he got in, he pulled out his phone. Dalton and Griff still hadn’t arrived at Jack’s house. They were minutes away.

  “Griff, call Clint. He’s going to give you directions to Buddy Finch’s house in La Jolla. We’re pretty damned sure he’s the killer. We’re also pretty damned sure his house is empty because he’s got Kenna pointed towards Poway. But we need you to check it out. See if you can find anything that might lead us to where he’s keeping her.”

  ***

  Dex thought Rosalie was going to pass out, but then she rallied.

  “He’s not a killer.”

  Hunter was looking at her, assessing.

  “Rosalie, the evidence is looking like he is. We don’t have enough to stand up in a court of law, or even get a search warrant at this point. That’s not what we’re asking for. We’re not cops. I’m asking as Kenna’s man, for your help to find her before she winds up dead.”

  She was sitting on the pink sofa, looking frail but determined. Hunter was standing near the door, Dex was sitting next to her. She grabbed his hand with a surprisingly firm grip. “I’m not trying to plead his case. I just don’t want you to waste a minute on a wild goose chase, not with Kenna’s life hanging in the balance. Buddy has not killed anyone.”

  “Ma’am, everything started after Buddy bought the website. The e-mails all came from a Starbucks not far from his house. The SDPD is working on finding footage of him there. He hasn’t been seen since yesterday morning. Do you know where he is?” Dex kept his voice calm. Barely.

  “Dex, there has to be another reason for this. It isn’t him. Something is wrong. He was supposed to be here last night. He didn’t call. I called his office this morning, and he didn’t show up or phone in. Wouldn’t he do a better job of covering his tracks if he was planning to murder Kenna? Wouldn’t he at least come up with a cover story?”

  What she was saying made sense, but everything pointed to Buddy. They didn’t have anything else at the moment, they needed to play this hand out. Still...

  “Rosalie, I appreciate what you’re saying. I do.” He gave her hand a light squeeze. “But right now, everything is pointing toward him being our guy. Do you have any property that he might use near Poway?”

  She closed her eyes. A tear trickled down her cheek. Then she opened them. “I have three rental houses near Wildcat Canyon Road.” She slowly pushed up from the couch.

  “Stay there,” Dex said. He immediately had his phone in his hand and dialed Clint.

  “Yeah?” Clint answered.

  “I’ve got Rosalie here, she said that she has three rental properties near Wildcat Canyon Road that might fill the bill.”

  “I haven’t found those.”

  Dex put the phone on speaker. “Rosalie, tell Clint about the houses.”

  “They’re three one-bedroom houses listed under the Sandrine Corporation. That was Rusty’s corporation. It was such a pretty name, I haven’t changed it.”

  “Buddy knows about the houses?” Clint asked.

  “Yes. But he’s not the man you’re looking for. I know you have to look. I’m pretty sure two of the houses are not being rented right now. You can ask Buddy’s secretary.”

  “Found it,” Clint said. “I’m texting it to you and Hunter now.”

  Dex got up off the sofa, Hunter was opening the door to the office.

  “Even though I think you’re wrong, God speed.”

  Dex looked at Rosalie’s face that for once looked its age. “Thank you.”

  ***

  “What?” Hunter asked as they ran to their vehicles.

  Dex followed Hunter to his truck and watched as he got in. He spoke as Hunter buckled up. “I’m going to follow you to the houses, but I might pull off on the way.”

  “What the fuck?”

  “She’s right, somebody could be setting Buddy up, and this could be a red herring. I’m going to have Clint look at other angles, but I still want those goddamn rentals looked at no matter what. You’re the man I trust to do it.”

  Hunter grunted.

  Dex ran to his jeep and followed Hunter as he sped out of the circular drive.

  ***

  It took everything she had to tear her gaze away from the gun as he slid in beside her.

  “Look at me. I want you to acknowledge me,” he said.

  Her entire body trembled, the only thing keeping her together, were her hands on the steering wheel. She raised her head and looked at him. Who the hell was he? Whoever he was, he was angry. No, he was furious.

  He shoved the gun into her ribs.

  “Ow!”

  “Shut up and put this piece of shit into reverse.”

  “Where did you come from?”

  “I was following you. Do what I say, or I’ll shoot you.”

  “No, you won’t. You want to torture me.” She’d had enough of this shit. Kenna turned to grab the door handle of the car.

  “You’re right, I do,” he said dropping the gun and grabbing her hair. He held up a garage door opener and put it to her neck. Kenna felt the sharp electrical current going through her. Fuck, it was a stunner, not a garage door opener, she thought as he continued to hold it against her. She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing would come out.

  She collapsed. Her eyes drifted shut. God, she was going to end up dying after all.

  ***

  “We’ve got some proof,” Griff’s voice came over the speaker in Dex’s jeep.

  “What did you find?”

  “There’s pictures of Kenna plastered all over a small room in the basement. He’s got a veritable shrine set up.”

  “You don’t sound really happy,” Dex said to Griff.

  “It’s Dalton. He’ll explain.”

  “Hey, Dex,” Dalton’s smooth, thoughtful voice permeated the inside of his cab. “I think we need C.S.I. to come out and look at this. There are some anomalies.”

  “Dammit, Dal, I don’t have time for you to be absolutely fucking sure. What are you seeing? What are you sensing? I would take your intuition over a C.S.I. report any goddamn day!”

  “Okay,” Dalton said and blew out a breath. “To start with some of the pictures are old. They’ve obviously been taken over the last year and printed out. You can see where they’ve faded with time. But all of the tape that was used to adhere the pictures to the wall? It’s new. None of it is faded. If I had to guess, these photos were taped up in the last few days, if not the last day. I think these were brought here from someplace else.”

  “You think it’s a set-up?”

  “That’s what my gut is telling me.”

  “Tear that fucking house apart. If it is a set-up, then Buddy’s a victim too. In the meantime, I’m calling Clint. There has to be somebody else who would tie in both Buddy and Kenna.”

  “Gotchya. We’ll call if we find anything.”

  Dex hit the steering wheel...again. Then pressed in Clint’s number. He relayed what Griff and Dalton had found.

  “Are you coming back towards La Jolla or San Diego?” Clint asked.

  “No, she was last seen heading east, this is as good as direction as any. I need you to tear Buddy’s e-mail accounts apart.”

  “It’s already hacked,” Clint said. “I was trying to see if he was sending any e-mails to any of the victims, or if h
e had set up any new accounts. I’ve cloned his entire office network.”

  Dex gave a low whistle. “Did you check his incoming e-mails?”

  There was a pause. “Nope. Been looking at his outgoing.”

  “Check his incoming. See if Buddy has any enemies. See if the Starbucks IP address ever sent an e-mail to Buddy.”

  “I’m on it.”

  After the call disconnected, he stared at Hunter’s electric blue truck in front of him. There had to be a connection somewhere, and he just wasn’t seeing it.

  ***

  She ached all over. She smelled the distinct odor of blood, decaying flesh, and bleach. She kept her eyes closed, wanting to take in as much information as her other senses could, without alerting the killer that she was awake.

  “I know you’re awake.”

  She didn’t move. Her hands were tied behind her. Her shoulders felt like they were being ripped out their sockets.

  “You snore.”

  She so didn’t snore!

  She felt the toe of a shoe or boot pushing at her hip, rocking her back and forth.

  “Open your eyes, or I’ll kick you.”

  She kept her eyes closed.

  The shoe stopped prodding her. She heard steps, then a meaty thud.

  “Ahhhhhh!” a man screamed. Her eyes shot open.

  “I knew you were awake.”

  Kenna looked up into the nondescript face of a monster. He was laughing. He kicked Buddy again, and this time her friend just groaned in pain.

  “Get up, Kenna. I have a special seat for you.”

  “I’m not going to do one goddamn thing you ask. My son is safe,” she ground out.

  “But you like him, don’t you? He likes you. He bought a company for you. You don’t want to see good ole Buddy Finch hurt, now do you? Get in the fucking chair!”

  “Don’t do it,” Buddy gasped. The man reared back and kicked Buddy in his head, and he slumped into silence.

  “Now get in the chair.” The monster pointed to a ladderback chair in the middle of the room. It was dim. There were mounds of what looked like trash pushed up against two of the walls, all of it covered in clear plastic. She looked closer and saw the outline of a human hand pressed up against one of the plastic tarps.

  This was it. Her future.

  “I said. Get in the chair.”

  “You’re not very bright, are you? Once again, you’ve lost your leverage.”

  Go big or go home.

  “What did you say to me?” There was the raspy and creepy tone of voice again.

  “That was a killing blow,” Kenna said disgustedly. “Now you’re going to kill me. I’m not going to do a goddamn thing that you tell me to do.”

  She saw his eyes dart to where Buddy was lying on the floor. He looked unsure. She’d scored a point.

  “He’s not dead, you bitch,” the man snarled at her.

  “If he’s not dead now, he will be shortly. Look at him, he’s going to aspirate on his own vomit.” She said it like she didn’t care.

  “What?”

  “He’s going to choke. He’s going to choke on his own vomit and die.” Kenna’s tone was filled with derision.

  Killer boy took three long steps toward her and swung. She didn’t even see his fist coming. She’d been propped up on her shoulder, but now she was laid out flat, her ears ringing, blood dripping from her nose.

  “You’re a nurse. Fix him!”

  “You beat me up, how can I fix him?” Don’t say dumbass, don’t say dumbass. “Dumbass,” she muttered.

  “I will kill you if you don’t do what I say!” he roared.

  “For fuck’s sake, you’re already planning on killing me!” she screamed at him.

  Stop it. Think of Austin. Don’t give up.

  He pulled out a knife. “Kenna, you’re the one I’ve always wanted. If you’re nice, you don’t have to die.” He knelt down and sun coming through the one window in the big room glinted off the steel blade. That was the moment when Kenna realized she wasn’t as brave as her mouth was. She cringed backwards. He leaned over her and cut the zip tie holding her hands together.

  She yelped with pain as the circulation started back in her hands, arms, and shoulders. He shoved her towards Buddy.

  “Go help him. I want him to live. He needs to see what I’m going to do to you.”

  Kenna hurt, and it didn’t feel like her body was under her control, but somehow, she was able to get on her knees and scuffle over to Buddy. She practically fell on top of him. His breathing was labored, but he wasn’t choking.

  She put two fingers to his neck to feel his pulse. Thank God. It was strong.

  Kenna put her mouth to his ear. “Buddy, can you open your eyes? Please. I need to see your eyes.”

  “Stop whispering, Bitch!”

  “Who are you?” She threw the question over her shoulder.

  “Lyle. It’s Lyle,” Buddy whispered as he opened his eyes.

  She looked at his blue eyes. She thanked God again. Both of his pupils were equal.

  “He’s not dead. He’s not choking. Let the games begin. Kenna, get into the chair.”

  Kenna had been looking around the room and realized they were in a home’s empty garage. Lyle, if that was his name, was standing in front of the bay door, behind her was the door leading to the house. She scrambled to her feet and ran towards the door.

  “Got you,” he said with glee as he wrenched a handful of her hair and pulled her away from the door. She jerked back, not caring about the pain. Barely, just barely, she managed to press the button that opened the garage door. The motor started to rumble.

  “You bitch.”

  He threw her to the floor, but she grabbed his leg, doing anything she could think of to stop him from pressing the switch. He kicked out at her, but she held on like a tick on a hound.

  “Let go!”

  She saw sunlight coming in underneath the bay door. He kicked out again, and she lost her hold. The rumble stopped. She saw that the door had only gone up maybe three feet.

  “Help!” she screamed at the top of her lungs. Praying God some neighbor would hear.

  She watched as he pressed the button again, and the door began its descent.

  “Help!”

  “Nobody can hear you, dear,” he said as he cupped her cheek.

  She jerked her head out of his grip, but he was ready for her. He yanked on her hair and dragged her to the middle of the room.

  Please God, give me strength until Dex finds me.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Traffic was bad. They were down to eighteen miles an hour. It was giving Dex plenty of time to think.

  Why would Buddy and Kenna both be targets over that fucking dating site, if Buddy didn’t have a profile, or did he? It all begins and ends with that stupid fucking site!

  He called Clint.

  Before Dex even asked a question, Clint started talking. “I haven’t found any e-mails coming into Buddy’s accounts from the Starbuck’s IP address. Now I’m going through his less than stellar fan mail. It’s the usual bullshit crap in business. He’s made a couple of special fans.”

  “You’re kidding, right? Buddy seems so likeable.”

  “There’s this one guy that swears he stole his company out from under him. He’s fucking pissed. Or he was,” Clint said.

  “Gates! I know him. Buddy mentioned him at a barbecue.”

  “Gale. Lyle Gale. Yeah, there have been a few back thirteen months ago. They’ve tapered down.”

  “That’s our guy!”

  “What the fuck are you talking about? Are you sure, Dex?”

  “It all makes sense. The killing centers around the site but started when Buddy ripped the company out of this guy’s hands. Let me guess, the e-mails from Lyle were over the top.”

  “Yeah, they were,” Clint conceded.

  “This guy had to have figured out that Buddy was doing this to check-up on Kenna, so Kenna became a focus. He’s been e-mailing her since t
he takeover.”

  “Why kill the other women?”

  “I don’t know about the first, but Jean was clearly a message to Kenna, so was this last one where he sent video. My bet is that we’ll find a connection between the first and Kenna if we look. But we don’t have time right now. Find Lyle’s properties.”

  “Stay on the line, I’m doing it right now.”

  “At last. We’re finally getting off this fucking freeway.”

  He followed Hunter down the exit ramp, past the gas station, and took a left through the light. They got lucky, and there was a break in traffic. He could hear the tapping of Clint’s computer keys as they drove fast through the sparsely populated area leading to Wildcat Canyon.

  It was killing him driving there, but where else did they have to go at the moment? It was still possible he was wrong, and Buddy was the killer. If Lyle’s properties were in La Jolla, then Dalton and Griff were there if it was San Diego, then Clint and Aiden were there.

  “You have got to be shitting me.”

  “What?” Dex asked Clint.

  “The one house of Rosalie’s that’s being rented in Wildcat Canyon?”

  “Yeah?”

  “It’s got Lyle Gale’s name on the lease,” Clint said.

  Hunter was already going twice the legal limit on the road. Dex stomped on the accelerator and roared past him.

  ***

  She’d thought he’d strip her. But she was still wearing her blouse and jeans. He’d used rope, not zip ties, to tie her to the chair. When she tried to tip it over, she realized it was bolted to the cement floor.

  “Ah Kenna, this is a pro operation. If the chair fell over, I couldn’t have my fun.”

  She watched as he went over to a table near one of the plastic tarps. Now that she wasn’t fighting him, the smell was even worse. Or maybe she was just imagining her body being under one of the tarps, and that’s what made her gag. Lyle picked up something up. He turned back to her, and she watched as he put on a mask.

  “Thank you.” She smiled.

  His step faltered as he walked back to her. She ignored the whip in his hand.

  “What are you thanking me for?”

  “I couldn’t stand seeing your ugly face anymore, so thanks for covering it up.”