“What do you want? I have money in my wallet. I even have some in my safe in the bedroom.”
“I don’t want your damn money. I want your evidence.”
“Evidence?”
“Don’t you know who I am?” He waved the gun at her as he yelled.
Right in that moment, she wished she knew, but she had no clue who he was. Obviously, someone in one of her cases. But she wouldn’t know. She collected evidence and passed on the results. She didn’t dig into cases, see faces and interview people.
“Tonya Moretta. Does that name ring a bell? That bitch…” He stopped, clenched his jaw, and waved the gun again. “Where’s the evidence?”
Evidence? Tonya Moretta?
It all suddenly made sense. Chris Moretta. Her ex-husband.
A crazy sense of relief washed over her. Newman wasn’t guilty. He didn’t kill those women, although she started to believe in his innocence after watching him in the interrogation room.
Apparently, the killer had been the first victim’s ex-husband all along. How did he know the other three women? What evidence was he talking about? She didn’t get any evidence, other than the prints in the room. Being her ex-husband, even if those prints would’ve been his, they could’ve easily been explained by the defense. But they weren’t his. They had been Tonya’s.
“There is none.”
“You found prints. Where are they?”
Then it hit her.
“Did you break into my office?”
“Listen, bitch, I need those prints. If I have to break into another office, I will. Where are they?”
Well, she could cross off another mystery. He’s the one who broke into her office, took her folder, and then replaced it in a different place. The brazenness of his actions. Walking into a precinct and breaking into her office. There weren’t any cameras near her office, but there would be in other parts of the building to prove he was there.
Not that it did her any good right now when he had a gun pointed at her chest.
Could she talk him down? Could she get him to turn himself in?
“The prints are in the evidence room, which can only be signed out by an employee. There are cameras everywhere.” She didn’t add they were also in the database. She could easily sign in and pull them up, but she assumed he wanted the hard copies.
The sneaky grin that appeared on his face intensified the fear crashing through her veins. “I can just hack into the system and mess with the cameras. That doesn’t scare me.”
Clearly not. She had to agree, he broke into places well. He broke into four homes and murdered four separate women without announcing his presence. He managed to subdue them, rape them, and murder them without them putting up much of a fight.
He broke into her house without her hearing.
She couldn’t think about those other women. She had to keep her head on straight and the fear at bay.
“Where’s it located in the evidence room?”
“I can—”
“No! Do I look dumb to you? You’re not going anywhere. I’ll retrieve it myself.”
She swallowed hard, her eyes settling on the gun. If he didn’t need her to go with, then what would he do with her? She knew who he was. He wasn’t going to let her live.
Which meant, she couldn’t tell him that she already processed the prints. That they didn’t come back as his. They had nothing to pin the murders on him, except what he was doing right now. If he had his way, she wouldn’t live to tell anyone.
“Tell me now, or things are going to get worse for you. I can make this painless,” his eyes glittered with delight, “or painful.”
“Why did you kill all of those women?”
He looked surprised by the question. She was a little surprised herself. What was the use of getting him to confess if he was going to kill her? Well, it would buy her time.
“Why not? Because I could. Because my ex-wife is a lying, cheating bitch. Because the other women thought they were better than me. Well, I showed them, didn’t I?” His devious smile grew. “You look like you think you’re better than me, too. Well, news flash, you whore. You’re not.”
She tried not to visibly shake, to show him any fear. Men like him, psychos, fed off that. She refused to feed him any more ammunition. Oh, but it was hard to stand still, the gun glaring in her face.
He suddenly looked sheepishly at her. “I honestly didn’t mean to kill Tonya. That bitch took everything in the divorce. My house. My car. My dog. I bought that dog. She didn’t even want it. One thing led to another and I found myself squeezing the life out of her. I have to admit, it felt good. Then it occurred to me how bad that looked. I’d be the first suspect, obviously. They always look at the spouse, or ex-husband in my case, first. So I had to add a few more women to the pile to make it look like someone else did it.”
The man was certifiable. But, she had to admit, smart. Never left any evidence. Broke in the house without leaving any clues. He knew he’d look like a suspect. What better way to throw the police off. Provide more victims. Although, she had a feeling he didn’t pick random women by the way he spoke about them. There had to be some small connection between him and each victim.
“When I was there being interrogated, finally able to be released, I overheard you. I heard you found some prints. I need those prints. You’re going to tell me exactly where to find them.”
No, she wasn’t.
He could rot in hell before she told him how to get into the evidence room. She’d probably die tonight, but she wouldn’t put any of her co-workers in danger.
A loud knock sounded on the door.
Stitch.
She forgot all about him coming over.
The knock was enough to surprise Chris. The gun lowered, his attention riveted to the door. She took the opportunity to kick him in the nuts, hitting her target with finesse.
He went down hard.
The gun went off.
Pounding started on the door. “Susan!”
Running for the front door, her hands shook like a leaf as she attempted to flip the deadbolt and unlock the other lock.
She swung open the door.
A shriek let loose as a rough arm went around her neck and slammed her against a thick body. The cold barrel of the gun pressed against her temple told her how terrible of a mistake she made.
“Back up.” Chris’s voice was strained, yet his hold on her was steady. She hit him good, just not good enough to keep him down on the ground.
“Easy, man. Don’t hurt her.” Stitch took a step back, almost tripping over the Chinese food he picked up for them to eat.
“Keep backing up.” His voice sounded stronger, the gun pressing harder into her temple. She couldn’t hold back a moan from the pain.
Stitch’s face twisted with rage. “Stop hurting her.” His eyes looked deadly. “Or I’ll kill you.”
“I’m the one with the gun, asshole. You have no say.” She felt him jerk his head. “That your car, big guy?”
Stitch nodded.
“Toss the keys to her. I guess I gotta change my plans now.”
She connected eyes with Stitch. She could see the wrath, the fear. He didn’t want to hand over the keys. She didn’t want to get into the car.
“Take me instead. She’s not going anywhere with you.”
Chris laughed. “Yeah, that’s not happening. She’s going to get what’s coming to her, especially for hitting me in the balls.”
“I’m going—”
“Stitch, give him the keys.” She choked out each word, hating to say it, but having no choice. If he kept threatening him, Chris could turn the gun on him and shoot. She couldn’t bear to see that.
Their eyes met once again. She watched as he reached slowly into his pants pocket and withdrew the keys. The pain in his eyes as he tossed them to her was too much for her to take. She had to look away.
“Come on. Back up some more.”
Stitch complied, backing further down the po
rch steps and onto the lawn. They walked down the steps carefully, with enough distance that would make it impossible for Stitch to reach out and grab her. Not that she thought he would.
They walked around to the passenger side of the car where he demanded she unlock the car and crawl into the driver’s seat. With the gun away from her head, she found that task easier to handle than she thought. Soon, they were both seated in the car, her hands in her lap, gripping the keys hard, and the gun pointed at her head.
“Drive. Now. Before I shoot through the window and kill your boyfriend.”
With trembling hands, almost dropping the keys to the floor with how badly they were shaking, she started the car. Without thinking, she buckled up. The smooth purr of the engine made her think of Stitch and how proud and happy he was when he relayed the story of when he bought this car. She couldn’t help but glance out the window.
He looked ready to charge the car. He looked every inch of the bad boy she knew he could be. His sleeves were halfway rolled up, his tattoos peeking out on his forearms. Why wasn’t he wearing a jacket? It was chilly out.
Geez, why was she thinking such silly things?
Their eyes connected. The rage in his eyes actually managed to calm her down. He wanted to murder the man next to her, and she was more than happy to let him. If only he had the chance.
Pain radiated in her head as the gun slammed into her temple.
“I said drive!”
Ignoring the pain and the shouts outside the window, she shifted the car in gear and backed out of the driveway so fast, the tires squealed in anger. Then she shifted again and started driving away. Driving as fast as she possibly could.
Because she couldn’t let him shoot Stitch.
She couldn’t watch him die.
Her death would be the only one happening tonight.
♡
Stitch watched with fury as the woman he loved drove away.
The pain in his chest radiated into every vein, every pocket, every core of his being. The look of fear in her eyes. The way that asshole held a gun to her head. The way her head jerked as he hit her with the butt of the gun.
He’d kill him.
When he found out who he was, and where to find him, he’d kill him.
“Hey, man. I called the cops.”
His head jerked to the right where a young kid, maybe college age, stared at him with fright in his eyes.
“I heard the shot, then I saw the dude come out with a gun to her head. I like Susan. I know she works for the police. I told them that.”
He didn’t know if her neighbor was nosy, or if she was friends with this kid. At the moment, he didn’t care. He nodded to the car sitting in the kid’s driveway.
“You just get home? Give me your keys and phone.” He didn’t phrase it as a question because he wouldn’t be taking no for an answer.
“Yeah.” The kid looked freaked out, but then tossed him the keys and started running for the passenger side. “Let’s go, dude.”
Not in the mood to argue, he climbed into the driver’s side and peeled out of the driveway almost as fast as Susan did. He wasn’t sure what way they turned but he hoped he made the right choices.
“I saw them turn right.”
He glanced at the kid and nodded. “Your phone? Where is it?”
The kid produced it out of his pocket. “You want me to call someone?”
As he turned right, he thought he saw a flash of red down the street take a left. A matter of seconds had to have passed before this kid said he called the cops and they jumped into his car. Susan didn’t have much of a head start, and she clearly slowed down once he was out of her viewing range.
Damn her.
She drove away like she did for him. That asshole must’ve threatened to shoot him. He would’ve gladly taken a bullet. Except, relief washed over him he didn’t. Because now he could chase after the son of a bitch.
“Yeah, I need you to call my friend for me. Put it on speaker.”
He rattled off Deena’s number and waited impatiently as it rang. Then his heart soared the second he saw another flash of red. He picked up speed. He had a clear view of his car, but they still had a good distance on them. They were heading out of the residential neighborhood and into the busy part of the city. Too much traffic to deal with. That would actually be to his advantage.
“Hello?”
His heart rate sped up as soon as he heard Deena’s voice.
“Deena, it’s Stitch. I can’t explain right now, but I need Sauer’s number and I need it now.”
“Stitch, if you’re about to—”
“Don’t argue with me. Some asshole has taken Susan hostage in my car. I’m following them right now. I need his number.” His voice broke. “I can’t lose her. Not like this.”
If not for the seriousness of the situation, he figured that would’ve left her speechless. She gave him Sauer’s number, repeating it three times so him or the kid wouldn’t forget and then they hung up. The kid didn’t need any prompting to dial the number immediately.
As soon as Sauer answered, a tired hello echoed throughout the car.
“It’s Stitch. Some asshole has Susan at gunpoint. Her neighbor called it in. It’s gotta be all over the police channels. I’m following them. They’re in my car.”
His baby. The only thing he had always loved. Now, that beautiful piece of metal held the only other thing he loved more than life itself. The car could get tangled up into a big mess and he wouldn’t care. He only wanted Susan back safe and sound.
“Sauer?”
“I’m here. I’m sending texts out to Ben and Zeke. Who is this guy? What is your license plate number? Where are you?”
Stitch started with the easiest of those three questions. He relayed his license plate number, what road they were on, and how traffic was picking up. He didn’t think the asshole realized he was being followed. What was even better, he was only three cars away now.
He heard Sauer speaking, to what he assumed was a police radio, about the information he provided.
“What happened?” Sauer asked as soon as he finished.
“I don’t know who he is. I visited Susan at work. She said she had another hour to finish, so I said I’d pick up food and meet her at her house. I knocked on the door. Then I heard a shot. I …” He blew out a deep breath. “The door was locked. Then it swung open and before I could even touch her, this asshole wrapped an arm around her neck and put a gun to her head. I had…” He almost couldn’t breathe, but managed to let out another deep breath. “I had to step back. He wanted the keys to my car and forced Susan into the driver’s seat. The bastard hit her in the head with the gun. She must be okay because she’s still driving. I’m three cars behind them.”
“Stay close, but don’t let him know you’re following him. When the cops catch up—”
“Don’t even think about asking me to fall back. It’s not happening.”
“Do you want Susan to make it out of this alive? Leave it to us.”
“What makes you think I trust you guys? This is Susan. My Susan. I’m not backing off. The minute he sees lights and sirens, he could do something stupid. A high speed chase or something. I’m not risking her life.”
“Then how about me? I’m in my car right now. Stitch, I won’t let anything happen to her.”
He saw her blinker light up to take a right at the next stoplight. “You know you can’t say that and promise me nothing will happen.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t, but you can trust me. This shit between us…let’s forget it. Trust me to do my job.”
Yeah, maybe he did trust him to do his job. Maybe he could relinquish that control.
But the thing was.
He didn’t want to.
Chapter 21
Heart pounding. Hands sweating. Knees shaking. Susan attempted to focus on the road and not the gun beside her.
To her horror, he wouldn’t stop talking. She preferred turn here, go straight, simple things
like that, rather than the disgusting things he was saying right now. She figured he was only speaking like this because she wouldn’t be making it out of this alive.
The hatred he had for his ex-wife was phenomenal. How did Sauer and Newman not see this? He had to be the best actor there was, because normally they read people very well. He wouldn’t stop talking about Tonya, the horrible deeds she committed against him, or so he imagined, how much of a bitch she was, how she deserved to die. She didn’t want to hear anymore. She wanted blissful silence.
She had no idea where he was taking her, but the longer they drove, the more frightened she became. He was leading them out of the city. They were still on a heavily populated road, but soon he’d be able to turn and suddenly they’d be in the boonies. No houses. No other cars. No people. It would just be them.
Her eyes quickly glanced into the rearview mirror.
And Stitch.
She didn’t notice him following her until there was one car between them. Her eyes had been darting to and fro trying to find a way out of this mess without her getting shot and nobody else getting hurt. That’s when she recognized her neighbor’s car. Brandon was twenty-one, one more year of college left, and he loved to shamelessly flirt with her. Oh, she knew it was something silly he liked to do. He had college girls in and out of the house he rented next to her all the time.
He was a sweet kid.
Harmless.
A little immature, too.
He had the most ridiculous bumper sticker on the front bumper of his car, instead of the back, that said, “Let’s bump and grind.”
The first time she saw it, she rolled her eyes at him. He laughed and said one day he planned to turn the car into a derby car and smash every other car to smithereens. It seemed like an appropriate bumper sticker for such an occasion.
She would’ve agreed, except the car wasn’t that old and she couldn’t see his parents, who owned the car, letting him use it in the demolition derby, especially since he had never competed in an event like that in his life. But she said she’d be there if he ever did, cheering him on and his crazy bumper sticker.
Now it was the one thing keeping her sane and in control, because she knew it was him and Stitch behind her, following them, making sure they didn’t lose her and where this psycho was taking her.
One Taste of Sin (A One Taste Novel Book 4) Page 20
