Jaxson: A Romantic Suspense (V Mafia Series Book 3)

by Karice Bolton

  “Thank you for helping bring Sadie back.” Her eyes were filled with tears, and I kissed her again, wishing I could kiss her sorrow away.

  But I couldn’t. There was only one thing that would make her sadness go away, and I was going to do everything in my power to make that happen.

  Her fingers curled in my hair as I slowly pulled away.

  “I’ll be back, and I’ll come here first.”

  “You’d better.” She smiled, but the sadness never left her eyes.

  Leaving her was hard, but not giving her answers would be harder.

  I shut the door behind me and quickly descended the stairs and met my brothers by the front door. Luke and his men were in a black van and Zack and Ian were in one of our SUVs. We had a way of making our vehicles vanish from record and disappear if needed.

  “You ready?” Drake asked with a solemn expression.

  “As ready as I can be.”

  “Guilty until proven innocent?” Blake asked, sliding his pistol into his holster.

  “That’s the plan. We’ve got proof of his being in the vicinity of every single murder scene, anywhere from minutes to hours from the time of each murder. Not to mention, he was seen with a number of the women days prior to their disappearances.”

  “And yet he’s roaming the streets.” Blake shook his head as we walked out the front door and to our SUV.

  The drive into the city was quiet. This wasn’t the first time we were going to greet someone of this man’s caliber, and I doubted it would be the last.

  We found an out-of-the-way place to park and the men spread out. Our first job was to make sure he was inside the building. The last images we had were of him entering the building two hours ago.

  My brothers and I entered the building first, followed by Luke and his men, and then Zack and Ian from the rear entrance.

  We canvassed the ground floor, making our way to the floor his apartment was on.

  The hallway was dingy and barely lit. The smell of stale cigarette smoke hung in the air, and televisions could be heard through the paper-thin doors, which wouldn’t make our job any easier.

  We came up to the door that matched the address we’d found. Luke knelt, and within a matter of seconds, unlocked the deadbolt and we were inside.

  The place was empty.

  A lime green, heavily-stained carpet and yellow walls invited us into the space. There were no overhead lights, but there was one lamp on the floor in the far corner by the window that had been turned on, so someone had been here at some point.

  My brothers and I moved into the small space as we searched the kitchen, where the cabinets were empty, before moving down the hall to the one bedroom and bath. It didn’t look like anyone actually lived here.

  “Think this is where he holds them?” Blake asked, bending down to look at one of the carpet stains.

  “I think so.” I looked inside the only closet in the place and saw a crate of cleaning supplies, not that it looked like many had been used to cover his tracks or clean the rug. “The Captain will be happy to know about this apartment.”

  “Maybe.” Drake sighed.

  “Yeah. Maybe,” I agreed.

  We went back into the hall, where Luke and everyone else waited.

  “We think this is where he holds ‘em,” I informed them. “But he’s still got to be in the building.”

  “Unless he used a back door to leave,” Alex offered.

  “True.” I glanced at the door catty-corner from where we were standing. “Do you hear that?”

  “Besides the blaring televisions?” Alex asked.

  “Yeah. Besides that. Sounded like that door clicked shut, but I didn’t see it open.” I cocked my head in the direction of the door, and Luke moved slowly over to the apartment in question.

  Luke fastened his gaze on me and I nodded. He heard something behind the door.

  There would be no knocking, only an element of surprise.

  And hell, if we were wrong and broke into someone’s apartment, cash always did a number on making things right again. Luke’s men slid against the wall along with my brothers, Ian, and Zack.

  If this son of a bitch was behind this door, I wanted to be the first one to greet him.

  Luke knelt and began working the lock as I stood in front of the door, smiling at whoever was behind the peephole. I slowly withdrew my pistol and waited until Luke gave me the sign.

  The door swung open, and without hesitation, my brothers tackled the man who stood in front of me.

  Not a word was said. The rest of us walked into the man’s filthy apartment while my brothers hauled the man to the couch, tying his ankles and wrists much like he did to the women.

  “Who do you think you are?” he barked, spitting in Drake’s face.

  “Your worst nightmare,” I said, walking in front of the man. “Apologize to my brother.”

  “Screw you.” He spat again, but the spray only made it to his own chest.

  Blake swung a fist, knocking the man in the jaw.

  “Apologize to my brother,” Blake said this time, and the man looked between all four of us.

  “Who are you?” he stammered.

  Mitch walked in front of him and set down a large, silver briefcase before I answered.

  “The Wolf Brothers.” I narrowed my eyes and saw the man wet himself. “Ring a bell?”

  “I didn’t do nothing wrong. I don’t owe nobody any money. Nothing. I didn’t do it.” Sweat beaded along the man’s forehead. “Whatever the V Mafia thinks I done to them, they’re wrong. I tell you, I didn’t do it.”

  “You didn’t do what?” I cracked my neck and unbuttoned my suit jacket.

  “Whatever you think I did.”

  “What if we have proof?”

  “Proof of what?” he seethed but didn’t dare make a move.

  “There’s a basement we can take him to. Stairwell about ten feet away,” Zack said, returning from the hallway.

  “Perfect.” I stared at the man.

  “What do you need the basement for?”

  “Buffering.”

  Alex stuffed a ball in the man’s mouth, and Mitch pulled a cloth sack over his head before they lifted him off the couch. Mitch handed the silver briefcase to Devin.

  The man twisted and turned, trying to escape Luke’s men, but there was no competition. They moved him out of the apartment like he was a floppy rag doll. We made it to the stairwell and down to the basement without a hitch.

  Ian had already set up a chair where Alex and Mitch threw the man before tying him down.

  “I’ll ask once nicely,” I began as Mitch uncovered his face and Alex removed the ball. “How many women have you murdered?”

  “None,” the man yelled. “Are you crazy?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I’m a lot of things, but crazy isn’t one of them.”

  Blake brought over the stack of photos of all the deceased women.

  “What about this one?” I asked, holding the image in front of the man. “This woman ring a bell?”

  A flash of recognition darted through his expression. “Don’t know her.”

  “Really?” I asked.

  “Really.” His shoulders sank.

  I waved the photo in front of him. “You’ve never seen this woman in your life?”

  “I said no.”

  My brother handed me another photo, but this one showed the two together.

  “That’s funny.” I said, tossing the one photo on the floor while I held up the other. “Because here’s a picture of you with your arm wrapped around her waist.”

  He glared at me. “So I banged her. So what?”

  “She’s dead.”

  “So?”

  My brother handed me another photo of a different woman.

  “And this one?” I asked.

  “Don’t know her.”

  I shook my head. “We’re not off to a good start.”

  “No, we really aren’t.” Luke let out a sigh and paced
behind the man, making him extremely skittish.

  “You see, I don’t like being lied to. I’m a busy man. We’re all busy men, but here we are, having to deal with scum like you.” I held out another photo showing the man kissing the last woman. “And when you waste my time, you make me angry.”

  I glanced at my brothers. “Do you know what happens when the Wolf brothers get angry?”

  More urine trickled down his leg.

  “That’s what I thought. You run in the right crowd to know precisely what I’m talking about.” I handed the photos to my brother. “So let’s try this again. How many women have you murdered?”

  “Zero.” He tipped his chin up in defiance.

  “Wrong answer.”

  Mitch and Alex lifted him from the chair. Zack and Ian stood on the chair and hoisted the man up while Ian managed to tie a rope around the man’s wrists and to a rafter in the ceiling.

  “What are you doing to me?” the man yelled, writhing his body around.

  “Something I should have done about ten minutes ago,” I informed him.

  Mitch opened up the silver briefcase and handed me an electric cattle prod.

  “What’s that?” the guy stammered, staring at the long device in my hand.

  “It goes zap.” I smiled and took a couple of steps forward, cranking up the amperage before turning it on the man.

  Shrill screams filled the air until I took the wand away and waited for the man to stop gasping.

  “How many women?”

  His head hung with his gaze fastened on the concrete floor.

  “None,” he mumbled.

  I raised the cattle prod and his head raised.

  “Eight. Eight women.”

  My heart dropped.

  With Missy, there had been seven. Sadie would make eight.

  I traded a glance with Drake, who walked over to the man dangling from the ceiling.

  “Name them,” Drake demanded.

  “Whore one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, and eight.”

  I handed Drake the prod, and he raised it, zapping the man into submission. The man’s body jerked in pain, but I didn’t let him finish.

  My fists pounded into his abdomen, one after the other, until the man was coughing. Feeling his skin twitch under the power of my fists made the contact much more satisfying than the prod.

  “Names.” I glared at the man.

  “I don’t remember.” He spat on the floor and Drake laid into him as Alex and Mitch held his body steady. My brother didn’t stop until the man’s shirt was saturated with his own blood.

  The man slowly raised his head, connecting his gaze with mine.

  “What do you care about those druggies anyway? They’re better off dead. I was told they’d be better off dead.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “God.” He closed his eyes.

  “Open your eyes, and don’t you ever insult my God again,” I told him.

  Drake punched him in the stomach and the guy’s eyes flashed open.

  “God doesn’t command people to kill others.” I eyed Drake.

  “Then who’s telling you to do this to me?” A smile covered the man’s face, but Drake quickly wiped that off with another punch to the gut.

  “No one other than my own moral compass is guiding me. Now, tell me the names.”

  “Will you let me go?”

  “Possibly.”

  All my mind could think about was eight names. Not seven. And if it’s eight, our hunch about Missy was wrong. He’d killed her too.

  “Not in any particular order,” the man slurred, and my gaze flashed to his. “There was Celia, Miranda, Jules, Serenity, Rylee, Jade, Trinity, and Paige.”

  I took two steps forward, as did my brothers. There was no mention of Sadie or Missy.

  “Repeat them,” I demanded.

  “Jade, Trinity, Paige, Serenity, Rylee, Celia, Miranda, and Jules.” His jaw barely operated correctly. “What? Not who you were expecting?”

  “Untie him. Let’s take him back up.”

  “You’re letting me go?”

  “We’ll see. So far, you’ve been cooperating.” I took a deep breath.

  Elena had been right. So what’s the connection between Missy and Sadie?

  Mitch wrapped the man in plastic before they untied him, only leaving his face exposed.

  They hauled him back upstairs without a trace of blood trailing behind.

  We made our way back into his apartment and shut the door.

  “Should I set up here?” Mitch asked, holding the large silver briefcase.

  “What’s that? Now what are you going to do to me?”

  Alex tied the man up in a chair and unwrapped the plastic from his body.

  “One last test.” Luke smiled as Mitch began connecting the man to the lie detector. I needed to be absolutely sure he knew nothing about Sadie—or Missy, for that matter.

  As we watched Mitch perform the test, starting with the easily verifiable questions and ramping up to the important ones, I held my breath.

  When the test was over, Mitch gave us a quick, confident nod.

  “See? I’m not lying. Will you let me go now?” The man’s voice teetered on hysteria.

  “If you write a note confessing everything you just told us. Yes.”

  The man’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’ll let me go?”

  Alex walked over slowly, and with his gloved hand, he handed the man a pen and a piece of paper from his desk drawer.

  “Write,” I demanded. “Before I change my mind.”

  The man quickly scribbled down everything while we patiently waited.

  “Done. See? Everything’s there.” The man shoved the letter toward us.

  My eyes connected with Drake’s and I nodded. “Tell our guys to make it look like a suicide. A messy suicide.”

  The man jumped from his chair, the restraints around his ankles keeping him in place. “You lied. You lied.”

  “I thought better of the deal.” I smiled and drew a breath, trying to hold my disappointment at not finding Sadie. I began to walk away. “I realized men like you will never change.”

  “You’re just like me. A killer. Men like us will never change,” he screamed like a girl. “You’re no better than me. You’re still getting your fix. You just try to package it better.”

  I turned around and faced the man who was about to be executed.

  “You’re absolutely right.” And I turned and walked out of the apartment, leaving the man whimpering in his own fear, just like he’d done to the women.

  As I closed the door behind me, I realized all I wanted to do was get home to Elena, but I knew this wasn’t the world she belonged in.

  No matter how much she thought she did.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Elena

  I stared at my laptop screen, reviewing the reports from Missy’s murder. I shook my head in frustration and clicked the window closed, opening the witnesses’ accounts next. Scanning their statements made me feel no closer to solving Missy’s murder than bringing Sadie home.

  I wanted there to be some sort of glittering jewel that would lead me to where I needed to look, but it didn’t exist. I lay back on the bed and glanced outside the window for the millionth time. The sun had traded places with the moon, and the Volkovs still weren’t back yet.

  Wandering over to the window, I pushed back the sheer curtains and rested my hands on the sill. The property was gorgeous, the house was gorgeous, and so was this room. The sheer drapes complemented the stark white comforter and grey velvet headboard. A plush white rug stuck out from under the bed. Everything was orderly and in its place.

  I let out an exhausted sigh and made my way back to the bed, slipping my legs under the covers. Turning up the volume on the news, I settled back and put my laptop on the nightstand. Finally, I was starting to feel sleepy until I saw Rick Harner on the television talking to reporters about his niece’s murder.

  I didn’t see h
er parents anywhere in the footage and was surprised at how little I’d heard about them. I turned up the volume and listened to his claims that police were no closer to solving Missy’s murder than those of the other women. Harner wasn’t surrounded by his people like he usually was. In fact, I didn’t spot any of his team hovering nearby.

  I wasn’t sure how much of what Harner was saying was for his niece or for an election win.

  I’d hoped that wasn’t true as I closed my eyes, allowing the pillows to settle around me. My mind drifted back to the police reports when it hit me.

  There was nothing from Harner in any of the files. The police should have at least taken a statement from him or reported that he’d shown up at the scene of the crime, but there was nothing in the files I had that reported any such thing.

  My pulse jumped as I thought about my run-ins with Harner. He seemed like any other politician, wanting to schmooze with those who’d lend a hand, or cash, to get him reelected. I didn’t want to deconstruct how he grieved over his niece, but something didn’t sit right with me.

  When his niece was missing, why did he attend a gala in his honor to raise money for his election?

  Shouldn’t he have been with her parents, his sister and brother-in-law, trying to find her or show his support?

  A shiver crept down my spine.

  Or was politics as ruthless as everything else in the world?

  I glanced at my phone, hoping to see something from Sadie, but I knew deep inside that wouldn’t happen. After Joel tracked the last cell movement by her vehicle, the phone had been turned off. The battery and SIM card were probably removed and tossed.

  Nausea sloshed in my belly as I turned off the television and lamp, willing myself to sleep. It only took minutes before my mind drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

  Nothing more than a hint of moonlight splintered through the window when I saw the door opening slowly. Still groggy, I sat up in my bed and tried to let my eyes focus.

  I didn’t know how long I’d been out, but it didn’t feel like nearly long enough.

  When I saw Jaxson’s silhouette in the doorway, my heart skipped a beat.

  There was something about him that I needed right now.

  I needed him, his comfort.

  His words that they’d found Sadie.