Stalked Justice (Fractured Minds Series Book 1)

by Kate Allenton

  I shook my head and stood taller. Disbelief made it difficult to breathe. “That’s impossible; Carl hasn’t been released.”

  “No, he hasn’t, Lucy. Carl wasn’t working alone, either. He trained someone, and these calling cards were meant for you.” Grant opened a file and pulled out crime scene photos, scattering them on the table.

  They looked similar to the ones I’d seen, only the faces of these girls looked identical to mine. “I don’t understand.”

  “He uses silicone on their faces to get them to look identical to you and Gigi. We can only assume that he’s killing them because they aren’t convincing him that they’re you. You’re the ultimate prize he wants. Now help us catch this asshole so I can put a bullet through his head and we can finish this once and for all.”

  I slipped Noah’s gun from the waistband of my clothes and slammed it on the table. “You won’t need to if I do it first.”

  The door shoved open, and I met Noah’s gaze. “What? Did you think you were the only one that could pull off stealing stuff? I figured out your identity. Noah Roth used to go by Noah Razinski. He took his mother’s name when he was provided a new identity with the FBI as a liaison to catch criminals.”

  “How in the hell did you figure that out?”

  “You left your fingerprints on the cup you were using. You saw how easy it was for me to move around. A few distractions and I pulled them. You guys have no clue what types of criminals are locked up in the psych ward. You thought I was bad before going into that place. It made me worse. Took less than twenty-four hours to have your real name, along with your rap sheet. It only cost me a pack of cigarettes, and I don’t even smoke.”

  I glanced at the person still hiding behind the mirror. “Have you seen enough? I only have one condition, and it has nothing to do with my release.”

  Noah crossed the room and grabbed his gun. “I told you she was good.”

  Grant had a smile a foot wide on his face. “I warned them they had no idea.”

  I took a piece of paper and a pen and wrote down my demand. I slammed it up against the two-way mirror and raised my brow. I wasn’t leaving the compound without them agreeing.

  Chapter 6

  Twenty-four hours later, I stood on the hotel balcony of a penthouse suite in Panama City, Florida, listening to the sweet sound of waves crashing on the shore as a salty breeze caressed my face. I’d thought it would be years before I ever felt this again. I glanced down the ten floors of balconies, mentally calculating the best way to get down in the event of an emergency. I scanned the beach line. Five fishing boats were just offshore. There weren’t really many places to run considering I didn’t know how to swim.

  I’d almost drowned once as a child during one of our yearly family vacations. Once had been enough. I had no plans to get my toes wet, but the idea of running in the packed sand spurred excitement, especially since it meant I could map the area. I turned to find Noah standing behind me with a bracelet dangling from his fingers.

  “A present? You shouldn’t have.”

  He stepped forward and clasped it around my wrist. “I didn’t.” He grinned. “This is a tracker that was designed specifically for you. You’re a smart girl; you know what a stun gun can do?”

  “Yeah,” I said, spinning the metal band around my wrist.

  “Consider this a portable stun gun hooked up to a GPS feed.” He pointed to the solid green light. “They’ve given you a ten-mile radius from the hotel, and you must be accompanied by one of us at all times. If you violate the area grid or try to escape, that light will flash ten times and a warning will sound before it goes to a solid red. Trust me when I tell you that you don’t want that.”

  “What happens at red?”

  “They’ll hit you with volts of electricity in pulses that are guaranteed to slow you down. We have a satellite dedicated to watching your every move.”

  “This isn’t a movie, Agent Roth. Something like that could kill me.”

  “It’s not attached to the artery in your neck, Lucy.” His lips twitched. “It’s just a jolt that will disable you.”

  I tried to pull the bands apart, unsuccessfully. “Really, you shouldn’t have.”

  Noah rested his hand over my fumbling fingers tugging at the bracelet. “I designed the locking mechanism. You won’t get it off.”

  My lips twisted into a smile. “Challenge accepted. What happens if I’m kidnapped and taken out of your grid? Are you going to risk incapacitating me while in the hands of a killer?”

  Noah grinned this time. “Yes, but don’t worry; we won’t be far behind to stop him.”

  Bait. The smile slipped from my lips. They’d use me as bait. No better than the fishermen on those damn boats offshore.

  “I need to go for a run. Who’s taking me?”

  “There is no time for a run. We have a meeting with the locals and a few other agencies.” Noah lifted his hands and stepped back, letting me walk into the suite.

  The computer geek, Sam, had been talkative during the entire flight. He’d been unable to shut up, until now. He didn’t even acknowledge the rest of us as he converted the main living quarters into the same setup he’d had at the mill. I couldn’t stop myself from grinning as he tried to take the picture off the wall.

  “It’s probably bolted in place to keep the spring breakers from tearing it up.”

  “I spent all my spring breaks at space and math camps.”

  I’d just bet he did. I held out my hand. “I’m Lucy.”

  “I know who you are.” He shrugged and went back to plugging up his equipment. “They warned me before the flight that you were as screwed up as an infected computer.”

  “I’m harmless,” I answered and winked. “Harmless as a virus.”

  He rested his palm over his chest. “You speak puns.”

  I shrugged and laughed. “Doesn’t everyone?”

  He glanced at Noah. “Can we keep her?”

  “She isn’t a puppy, Sam. When she’s finished with the assignment, she’ll have to go back into the psych center.”

  “I’ll have to visit,” he said, going back to typing on the keyboard to boot the system up.

  “I’m not allowed visitors,” I interjected.

  “If they have computers, I’ll find a way.”

  “She’s a killer, kid,” Mr. Expensive Suit said from across the room. He was staring out at the ocean below. Grant had sat next to me on the private FBI plane, and he’d told me what he could of everyone on board, including fancy pants, his name but not much else about Ford Rain.

  “Actually. I’ve never killed anyone,” I said. “I could have, and probably should have, but I didn’t,” I said, grabbing my bag. I glanced back at Noah. “Where am I sleeping?”

  “One of the bedrooms without windows,” he said as he shoved open a door and gestured me inside.

  It was a typical beach room. It could have been any one that my sister and I had vacationed in growing up. The seashell-printed bedspread and nautilus big rope décor covered the entire room. The queen-sized bed was bigger than I imagined. A small TV was hanging on the wall. I opened one of the two doors in the room to find a bathroom that was shared with another room. At that moment, the other side opened, and Ford Rain, fancy suit guy, was staring back at me.

  “Looks like we’re sharing.”

  “Looks like it,” I said and shut the door. I checked out the closet before tossing my bag onto the bed to unpack.

  I unzipped the bag and groaned at the clothes inside. They didn’t pack me much, just a couple pairs of shorts and jeans and a few tops, along with some toiletries, which my brother-in-law had packed. My guess was he’d taken Gigi’s things.

  Whoever had been responsible sucked at the job. Nothing even remotely matched. I pulled each piece out, giving it a once-over before tossing it onto the bed. I settled for jeans and a concert T-shirt that had probably been given away to a thrift shop. I just prayed we didn’t need to go anywhere important. If we did, I was
sure to stand out like a neon sign on a dark night.

  At least the toiletries were better.

  Someone had packed my personal belongings from the psych ward, including my necklace, which had been confiscated. I slipped that over my head, feeling better already. I grabbed my toothbrush and toiletries and headed for the bathroom.

  The door opened again, and Ford stood on the other side with a shaving bag in hand. “Looks like we may have to come up with a system.”

  “How about knocking?” I offered and stepped back into the room with the door handle in my grasp. “It’s just a thought, assuming you don’t want to see me naked.”

  His gaze slid down my body just as I shut the door. I plopped down on the bed after putting my clothes away. “From one cage to another.”

  Chapter 7

  Once we left the hotel, traffic on Front Beach Road crawled at a snail’s pace. The route to the meeting at the Sherriff’s Department was packed with shirtless guys hooting and hollering at half-clad women. A group of several girls lifted their fast food cups in the air when guys whistled as they passed by. What I wouldn’t give to be that carefree, although I’d be more cautious about hiding my liquor.

  I read through the pamphlets I’d taken off the check-in desk while waiting on the others earlier. The reading material reminded me of the things I wouldn’t be doing on this trip. There were five of us packed like sardines in the SUV. The air conditioner was fighting a losing battle with the sultry confines of the car.

  Carson, the weapons expert, who’d hardly looked at me the entire trip, had changed out if his black stretch military shirt that soaked up the sun’s rays to an airy button-down flower printed shirt. Ford, the expensive suit guy, had ditched his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. Grant, hadn’t bothered to freshen up. Noah, sat behind the wheel. He’d only disappeared once while at the hotel when his phone had rung. The computer geek, Sam, had stayed behind at the hotel to finish playing with his toys.

  It took us thirty minutes just to get down Front Beach Road through all of the partying college kids. I couldn’t help but wonder which of the college-aged girls would be the killer’s next victim. I swallowed hard, trying to forget that he was using me as his model to pick his victims.

  The other side of the bridge was nothing like the beach side. Where people made reservations to play in the sun on the white sand, this was where the locals lived. This was real everyday life. We pulled up at the Sheriff’s Department, got out of the car, and walked into the building.

  The other three spoke in hushed tones. Grant stood near me while we waited. “You think we should add this to our vacation spots when you’re out and Gigi wakes up?”

  I shrugged. “Only if it’s not spring break.”

  “I hear the offseason is for snowbirds.”

  “Assuming they let me out.”

  “Gentlemen, and…” The deputy lost his train of thought as he stared at me. “Uh…Ms. Bray, sorry the resemblance is uncanny.”

  “Dr. Lucy Bray,” Noah corrected.

  I might not have finished my med school training, but I’d gone in as a doctor in psychology.

  “Pardon me, Dr. Bray. If you guys will follow me.”

  The Suit Guy we traveled with glanced over at me again, this time with curiosity in his eyes.

  The door continued to buzz as we were led beyond the safety of the steel-enforced door into the inner office.

  The place was built like a square with one hallway on each length. The smell was musty. Her nose twitched with an unreleased sneeze as if no one ever aired the place out. One side of the hall held offices, and the other was nothing but a long string of windows that looked into what appeared to be an atrium. “That’s…unique.”

  “We call that the fishbowl,” the deputy said as he continued to walk.

  I could understand why. Watching the two uniformed officers conversing out in the greenery made me feel like a voyeur.

  The deputy pushed open the double doors to reveal a conference room. Three men and one woman waited inside. Two men wearing uniforms, one dressed in a suit that probably cost twice as much as fancy pants in my party, and a petite blonde dressed like she was there to take notes. All talking stopped as they stared at me. I ignored their questioning looks and walked straight to the whiteboard, where pictures of the murder scene were being held in place by magnets. I swallowed hard at the resemblance. This killer was skilled. The prosthetics he used were almost spot-on. Almost.

  Voices whispered behind me, but I tuned out the words. The victims didn’t just look like me; they could have passed as me or Gigi. There were aspects about each of them that was a little off, the hair color of one, the skin color of another. The bodies were left precariously on rocks.

  “Where is this crime scene?” I asked without looking back.

  “The jetties that separate the beach from the state park,” one of the men offered.

  “When was the last victim found?”

  “Forty-eight hours ago.”

  I spun and met Grant’s gaze.

  “Is it a highly popular tourist attraction?” I asked.

  “Both sides of the beach are, but most people are smart enough to stay off the sharp rocks. They’re dangerous.”

  There might be hope. The longer the wait on visiting crime scenes, the harder it was for me to target the energy. I didn’t know why that was. Hell, I couldn’t even explain what made it happen; it just had ever since that group started sticking me with needles.

  “If you’ll please have a seat,” one of the men said, and I took my seat next to Grant. “I’m Deputy Sorenson. To my left is Sheriff Gallum….” I turned my gaze to the other suit waiting for the introduction, which never came.

  “We appreciate whatever help you can provide us,” Sorenson said and gestured to the files in front of us.

  I’d already flipped through mine and tossed it back down, more interested in the map that was labeled “Last seen” with numbers 1-5 circled on it.

  “He doesn’t abduct from the same place twice?”

  “No.”

  “He’s calculated and smart.”

  “Miss Bray …”

  “Doctor,” Ford, our group fancy pants, corrected, and my gaze swung to his. Interesting.

  “Dr. Bray, do you have any idea who would do this?”

  I rose from my seat, walked to the board, and grabbed one of the less demeaning pictures off the board. I set it on the table and then proceeded to lift my shirt up on the side just beneath my bra. “Someone who has seen this.”

  The tattoo in the photo was almost an exact match to the flowered birthmark both my sister and I shared.

  “Do you tend to sleep around, Dr. Bray?” unidentified suit man asked.

  “I’m sorry, who are you?”

  His brows dipped. “Jack Sloan. My niece was one of the victims. This is my assistant, Susan Montgomery.”

  The assistant gave an awkward wave.

  “In full disclosure, I have a sexual appetite that would rival anyone’s at this table. I’m no prude, yet I know all of my partners. The problem here is that my twin has an identical mark. I’m not sure this killer is trying to make his victims look like me or her.”

  “Potayto, potahto,” one of the deputies said.

  “Hardly, gentlemen.” I chuckled. “My sister and I are as different as night and day in every way other than looks. Who the killer is fixated on will tell us a lot about who he is and what he wants.”

  “So, bring her in,” Sloan said, crossing his arms over his chest. “You two can make a list, and let’s hope we have time to track them all down before spring break is over.”

  I felt Grant tense beside me. His jaw ticked, and I knew I had seconds before Grant exploded. He didn’t do it often, but when he did, it was a matter of ducking for cover. “My sister is in a coma. I can assure you she’s the angel of our duo and happens to be Grant’s wife, so please be respectful, or I can just as easily return to the psych ward where they plucked me from a
nd let you guys figure it out.”

  “You’re a resident of a psych ward?” Susan gawked. Confusion riddled her face.

  “I would let you see my nifty tracking device, but you’d have to ask Special Agent Roth to release the locking mechanism.” I wiggled my arm.

  “Not happening, Lucy,” Agent Roth answered. “Let’s focus, people.”

  “Now, Mrs. Bray …” Sheriff Gallum said, rising to his feet.

  “Doctor,” the others around me corrected.

  Sheriff Gallum pursed his lips. “Dr. Bray. I’m sure there was no ill intention in Mr. Sloan’s words toward you or your sister. We just need a starting point. We now know it’s someone who has seen you with…less clothes. It doesn’t mean you were naked. You could have had a Peeping Tom looking in your window. It could have just as easily been at a pool party. How do you suggest we attack this?”

  “That’s simple. First, we’ll try the crime scene, where I’ll attempt a connection. If that doesn’t work, or, heck, even if it does, we use me as bait. I’m guessing since he’s going to all these lengths to make these women look like me or my sister that he’ll go straight for the real thing if he can find it.”

  “And how do you suppose we let him know you’re in town without going to the media and causing mass hysteria?”

  I pointed to the next location he’d hit on the map, and both Sloan and I spoke at the same time. “Bar Wars.”

  “You’ve both determined a pattern?” Noah asked.

  “It was in a brochure I read at the hotel. Bars on different nights are offering discounts. A new bar every night to drink cheap and the abductions fit the pattern.” I answered.

  “This could work,” Sheriff Gallum said, and the others broke out in conversation around how it would play out.

  I ignored them all again. It was going to play out however I could plan it in my head. I rose from the table and stepped over to the photos of the victims again.