1st Shock (Schock Sisters Mystery Series)

by Misty Evans

  "Billy Ray—"

  He rushes straight at me, just an explosion of energy that snaps me back. Dammit. That flinch just gave him the power I so desperately clung to. He knows it too. Intends to capitalize, I'm sure.

  Move.

  I shift my weight, but he's too fast for me. His hand shoots to my neck, his rough, gnarly fingers wrapping around my throat. Huge hands. Absolute frying pans. The knife at his waist blurs my vision. This is how he does it. His victims. He waits for them to pass out then nearly decapitates them. God help me. I can't die like this.

  My ears roar and the anxiety I've kept on lockdown stirs, swirling in my belly and rising. Up, up, up. Billy Ray squeezes harder, enough that my air is gone and the pressure behind my eyes builds. Then he releases me. Squeeze, release, squeeze, release.

  Bastard.

  "I'm in control," he says.

  The door swings open, banging against the inside wall. A blast of light blinds me and I blink, then do it again as Billy Ray’s grip eases. The infusion of air clears my vision enough to see Charlie standing there, backlit by the growing clouds behind her. Feet planted, hands on hips, she's Wonder Woman without the costume.

  Billy Ray whips his head around. "Jesus."

  My sister. The badass.

  The sight of her shatters my panic and my lungs take in a stream of moist, mildewy air.

  Charlie doesn't look directly at me. I know her. If she sees fear in me, she'll...I don't know what she'll do, but she's a pro. She knows emotional stability is imperative, so she keeps her focus on the man with his hand clamped on her sister's neck.

  She holds up her hands. "I'm unarmed. But there are various branches of law enforcement surrounding us. This is over, Billy Ray. Let go of her before I unleash hell on your ass."

  Ooh, good one. Way to rile up the control freak. Make him come a little unglued.

  He squeezes my throat again and I struggle against his grip, attempting to pry myself loose. Not an easy task with my hands restrained, but I don't care. Charlie is here. Two against one. No matter how big he is, we outnumber him. We will walk out of here.

  Charlie takes a step, coming closer.

  Billy Ray points at her. "Stay there."

  He's rattled again, sensing the situation slipping from him. I might as well push him, see if I can tap into his anger. "You have nowhere to go, Billy Ray. Charlie isn't about to let you kill me. And if you think I'll make this easy—" I finally meet my sister's gaze, "—that we will, you're wrong. You useless piece of shit."

  His eyes flash and he squeezes again, the movement so quick, I can't react. The pressure is insane, and my throat collapses under his grip. I gag. Too much. I've pushed too far. In front of me, his body seems to expand, all that rage boiling up.

  "Useless piece of shit," Charlie repeats, her voice smooth as custard on a summer day. "That's what Mickey used to call you."

  Words piddle around in my head and I desperately try to get them in order. With my air cut off, I can't form a sentence. It's all...fuzzy. Just out of my cognitive reach.

  I look straight into Billy Ray's eyes, determined not to blink back the tears. Allow myself to look more than a little desperate. If it'll distract him from Charlie, I'll give him the power.

  "Useless piece of shit," Charlie says again.

  She's totally fucking with him now and my oxygen-deprived brain finds this amusing.

  I laugh and Billy Ray releases me with a brutal shove that sends me sideways. He swings to Charlie, his hands in motion as he reaches for his waist.

  Knife!

  That few seconds is all I need. I roll, somehow getting to my knees as Billy Ray unsheathes that knife and takes a step toward my sister.

  A vision of Avery and Emily, their skulls on stands in my office, fills my foggy mind.

  Not again. Never again.

  I stand, wobbling as I get my footing, but Billy Ray, he's in the throes of a Charlie-induced rage that has him forgetting all about little-'ol-me. He takes another step toward her, knife at the ready.

  Not happening.

  Never again.

  Go.

  In two strides I'm on him, but the realization of his circumstances hits him, and he stops, pivots back to me. Perfect. Before he can complete the turn, my eyes blur. It's okay. I know what I have to do, and I don't need my eyes for it. Agonizing hours of my sister's lectures and practice sessions have left me with razor-sharp instincts. I kick out, firing every ounce of hate and pain I can muster to the heel of my boot. I connect with flesh. Success. I kick again, watch as my foot bashes his crotch and the open-mouthed look on his face? The shock and pain?

  Better than winning the lottery.

  A vicious howl fills the air. Billy Ray screaming. My ears ring and I shake my head, force myself to focus on the man rolling on the ground holding his crotch.

  I've probably crushed his balls and he didn't even see it coming.

  I stand there, staring at him. Waiting for him to move so I can blast him again.

  Knife.

  On the floor. Next to him. What I've done, what could’ve happened here slams me. An absolute landslide of terror that paralyzes me.

  A flash of movement catches my eye as Charlie kicks the knife away, sending it skittering against the wall. Behind her, a rush of bodies charge through the doorway and the she-shed is suddenly filled with men in tactical gear. And JJ, Grey, and Matt.

  The men in my life are all here.

  Of course. They weren't about to miss this.

  After all, the Schock sisters have just captured a serial killer.

  24

  Charlie

  Two visits to the hospital in as many days. This time, however, I'm a happy camper.

  Billy Ray is in custody and my sister is safe.

  Safe. The word reverberates through me as the ER doctor clears Meg to leave, asking her to follow up with our family physician. She's got a slight concussion, a few ugly bruises, and some nightmare memories to add to those already in her head, but she's alive and kicking—literally—and handled our serial killer like a trained FBI agent.

  I'm damned proud of her.

  "You did good, sis," I say as I wheel her down the long, antiseptic smelling hallway. She balked at leaving in a wheelchair, but that's how it works.

  I've already spoken to the local cops and Matt's girlfriend, Taylor, so the FBI and detectives working on this case have the details. Billy Ray lawyered up as soon as he could talk again, thanks to Meg's crushing blow to his family jewels. According to JJ's latest text, the FBI brought Dixie in for questioning along with her brother. I'll take Meg down to the station to give our official reports first thing tomorrow. "I want to keep an eye on that concussion, so I'm taking you home with me."

  She nods, silent, but I don't worry. Meg needs time to process and I'll get her to a psychiatrist friend of mine soon for some talk therapy. Another thing she'll balk at, but I'll give her the option of talking to me—as a psychologist, not her sister—or visit Paulette. I know which one she'll choose.

  "I need to go to the office," she murmurs. "I need to see Emily and Avery."

  That's the last thing she needs, but it will do her good to speak to her girls and tell them we've caught their killer. "Billy Ray wants a deal. He's the one who broke into your office and attacked Haley. He's also offered important details that’ll help us identify them," I tell her. "JJ believes we'll have their real names by the end of the day."

  Matt is at the curb waiting. He fusses over Meg, nicknaming her Suburban Commando, and doing some silly Kung Fu moves, as if demonstrating what she did to Billy Ray. She laughs at his antics and the sound helps me breathe. He picks her up and sets her inside the passenger seat of his Mustang, ignoring her protests. I hop in back and direct him to take us to the office.

  He gives me a sharp look in the rearview, but I nod to let him know it's okay.

  My voicemail is filled with messages, the most important from our parents. I check in to tell them Meg is okay, and I'll h
ave her talk to them once we're settled.

  Our visit to the office is brief, Meg going into her space and shutting the door. While she's in there, I return calls. Matt paces. It's getting dark outside when my phone lights up with a call from JJ—Billy Ray is talking.

  I deliver the news to Meg through her closed door. I can't see her, and she doesn't make a sound for a moment after I tell her Emily and Avery are believed to be Naomi Gardiner and Elizabeth Dunhurst, but I can feel her relief as if she and the ghosts of those girls share a collective sigh.

  The FBI wants confirmation, so dental records will be pulled, and they'd like Meg to finish her skull work to compare to pictures of both girls. "Of course," she says when I tell her. "Emily is already done, and I'll work through the night on Avery."

  Over my dead body, but really, arguing will get me nowhere, and I know my sister. She won't sleep tonight anyway. Not until she's finished that skull.

  "Okay," I say through the door. "I'll order takeout."

  Matt gives me a frown. "She needs rest."

  "She needs closure." I hand him some cash and the key to Meg's front door. "Would you please grab food and fresh clothes for her?"

  The press hounds me for the next few hours and I stop taking calls. Grey and his wife, Sydney, show up with flowers, and a couple bodyguards to keep the reporters off our premises. I could kiss them.

  Matt returns with pizza and the clothes, Taylor following. She can't stay, since her department is in charge of cold cases, but she manages to coax Meg out of her office long enough to change and talk. My sister is gracious and polite, but I see the tension in her eyes, the restrained impatience around her mouth.

  Taylor recognizes it too and makes her escape. After she leaves, Meg goes back to work, but her office door stays open. Progress.

  "Come have some pizza," I say to her a few minutes later from the doorway. "You'll need your strength to pull an all-nighter."

  If she weren't already dead on her feet, she'd refuse. I see the wheels in her brain turn, her exhaustion and the need to wrap this up warring inside her. I don't push—that would be the wrong thing to do—and after a moment, she relents, following me to the conference room.

  Matt, ever the jokester, manages to get a couple smiles out of her, and Sydney briefly relates her own experience with a serial killer. I didn't know about the incident, and we don't go into details, but it seems to give Meg a boost. She's not the only one at the table with that experience and Sydney lets her know she's available to talk if Meg ever wants to.

  We are mostly through eating when JJ shows up. He makes a face at Meg's favorite Thai version, but helps himself to the last of the sausage. "Thirteen," he tells us. "We've got Billy Ray for thirteen potential missing persons cold cases, thanks to Taylor and her team. We're still working out the details of his deal, but he's already copped to three, the first he took the day after Mickey was convicted. She was his fiancée and she apparently freaked out when she discovered his stepbrother was a serial killer. They argued, she called him names and tried to bail on him. Because of Mickey. All his life he'd been dealing with him and his fallout. Just when he thought he was done with his insane relative, the lover dumps him. He lost it. Went into a rage and killed her by cutting her throat to shut her up. Claims it was an accident—some accident—but after that, he had the itch and couldn't stop. He thought moving to the boondocks, cutting himself off from the world, might work. It didn't."

  Meg's eyes are cold, calculating. "What does he get in return if he confesses to all of them?"

  JJ meets her stare. "Life in prison rather than the death penalty."

  My sister doesn't believe in the death penalty, but I see disappointment in her eyes. We've argued over the merits of it many times, so I'm both surprised and not. There are certain monsters who make you question your personal codes.

  JJ downs the last of his slice and turns to me. "Thank your dad for me, will you?"

  "For what?"

  "He found Juanita's biological cousins and they contacted her. Seems her real mother has been looking for her for about a year. He said you suspected a mix up at the hotel where Yvonne gave birth? Seems you may be right. Anyway, they're all getting together this weekend to hash things out. A family reunion of sorts. Juanita couldn't be happier to meet her real”—he makes air quotes—"biological mother and introduce her to Yvonne, as well as her adoptive parents."

  The irony is there if you think about it. Juanita now has three mothers, even though two aren’t biological. "Yvonne was so convinced Juanita was hers. Should be an interesting get together."

  "You should take her on as a client," Meg says. "Help her find her real daughter."

  "You're right," I say, making a mental note to contact Yvonne next week. This is why I do it—to bring lost families together again. I turn to JJ. "I'm happy for all of them."

  "She'll be calling you. She wants to invite you and Meg to the reunion."

  I look at Meg and she smiles at me. A real one, the old Meg surfacing. "We look forward to it."

  I walk him out, both of us tired but feeling that inexplicable rush of satisfaction at having nailed Billy Ray. JJ is going to be tied up for the next several days as he heads the investigation to make sure all the I's are dotted and T's crossed.

  "You gave me ten new gray hairs today," he says, brushing a kiss on my forehead. "Don't ever bust in on a serial killer again, or I will stroke out and die."

  Matt said something similar to me. Grey seems to be the only one who isn't having a cow about my direct confrontation with Billy Ray. He would've done the same thing in my situation, most likely, and therefore hasn't scolded me.

  "She's my sister, JJ. Billy Ray's lucky he's still alive. The only reason I didn't kill him is because I knew he had information about the victims we need to give their families closure."

  JJ rubs my arm, stares at me. "You are one kick ass woman, Charlie Schock. Remind me to never get on your bad side."

  I see regret cross his features, but it's gone in an instant. He is on there and he knows it. "Just don't mess with my sister and I won't have to kill you."

  It's a joke, but it falls a little flat. Suddenly, Meg is at my side. She slides her arm through mine. "Ditto for me, JJ. Either deal with your marital situation or stop messing around with Charlie's emotions. In other words, shit or get off the pot and make her happy, or you and I will go a couple rounds."

  Whoa. Both JJ and I give her a look, neither of us expecting Meg to lob threats at him. She just squeezes my arm a little tighter, a show of solidarity.

  "My sister's a badass too," I say. "In case you didn't know."

  For once, JJ doesn't have a response. He gives us both a nod and walks out.

  "He's completely in love with you," Meg says. "Whatever he has going on with his estranged wife, he's an idiot for not pushing his divorce through."

  "Thank you."

  "For what?"

  "For standing up for me." I turn and hug her, holding her close for longer than I normally would. I close my eyes and thank whatever gods there might be for her safe return. "I'm sorry if I scared you in the cabin. I couldn't stand outside and hope the SWAT team got there before Billy Ray killed you."

  We part and she brushes a stray hair from my cheek and slips it behind my ear. "I think I was just as scared he would kill you, you brazen brat. I have to agree with JJ on this one—you ever do something foolhardy like that again, and I'll stroke out."

  "No you won't. You'll kick my ass from here to hell and back."

  Another real smile. "I may do that anyway."

  I put my arm around her shoulders, and we walk slowly back to the conference room. Grey and Matt are telling stories to Sydney, all of them laughing. Syd looks at me as Meg and I reenter the room. "Grey claims you're almost as good of a profiler as he is. I don't buy it. I think you're better."

  Ooh, fighting words. "Of course, I am," I say, adding fuel to the fire. "I'm a woman."

  Matt throws up his hands. "Here we go w
ith the feminist propaganda again."

  He loves to poke fun of my views, but he supports every one of them. For the next few minutes, we continue the competitive teasing. Meg starts to float away to her office, trying to slip out quietly, but Matt calls her back. "Hey, Suburban Commando. Charlie said you want to take me shopping for Taylor's ring."

  She stops in the doorway and puts a hand on her hip. "Well, someone needs to give you guidance. You don't have a clue what she’d like."

  "You tell him, sister," Sydney says, nodding her head. "Every man needs a primer when it comes to picking out an engagement ring."

  "Now wait a minute..." Grey sputters, Matt echoing the same sentiment. "It's a lot of pressure, you know. You all have these little quirks about what you like and don't like, and how are we supposed to know? The size, the cut...it's enough to make anyone crazy. Definitely a no-win situation."

  "Exactly why you shouldn't do it on your own." Sydney pats his arm. "You need an expert."

  "I'm giving the police my statement at nine a.m.," Meg tells Matt. "After that you and I are going shopping. Bring your credit card."

  Matt moans softly, rolling his eyes, but the grin on his face tells me he'll do anything—including spending a small fortune—to make Taylor and Meg happy. This is why I love him.

  Meg goes to her office. Sydney and Grey leave. Matt takes the pizza boxes out to the trash and heads home for the night. The silence is deafening, but I leave Meg alone and catch up on paperwork. I hear her classical music come on and settle into my chair.

  Thank God, she's still alive.

  Shortly after ten, she wanders into my office and drops into a chair. "As much as I want to do the all-nighter, my head is killing me. I've had it for today. How about you?"

  I know Avery—Elizabeth—isn't finished yet, but I'm glad Meg's willing to call it quits for tonight. It's been a long, damn day, and I'm more than ready to close up shop. My eyes are gritty with exhaustion, my limbs heavy with fatigue. "Thought you'd never ask."

  We're heading out when a young boy wheels into the parking lot on a bicycle. "Who's that?" Meg asks.