BOUND TO A KILLER

by Evelyn Glass

  She had never left my thoughts—in fact, I don’t think she’d ever truly been off my mind since she was born, but I just hadn’t noticed till now how intrusive the urge to be around her was. Before she disappeared, I could just stick my head into her room and watch her playing and bam, that need would be sated—but now she was gone I just wanted to hold her and hug her and be near her again.

  And maybe, in some ways, this was a distraction from all the news that Mona had dropped on me since I walked through her door. As soon as I got the call from Lucy, I knew there was something up—I began putting the pieces together in my head and they made sense. Mona had been visiting the house for some more than just a courtesy call, that much was clear, and even though I never would have guessed that she was pregnant, I knew something big was up. I mean, it had never been that simple with us—the world seemed to want this relationship to go through a requisite amount of twists and turns before we got a chance to settle down.

  When Mona left to go track down Scott and see if he could come out his evening, I made myself a coffee and walked around her small apartment. It was a nice place—it had her written all over it, something I’d noticed when I’d first walked in. Mismatched furniture, a warm color scheme, blankets and wall-hangings everywhere I looked. I could imagine visiting her and the baby here if she decided she didn’t want to move in with me quite yet—though I hoped and prayed that she would. The thought of being in that house if things didn’t go to plan, alone…it didn’t bear thinking about. I shuddered at the very thought of it, and went for my phone so I could call Declan, my deputy at the Marauders.

  His phone buzzed a couple of times, and then he snatched it up—he sounded breathless when he greeted me, as though he’d sprinted across a room to get to his cell before I hung up.

  “Jazz?”

  “Declan!” I greeted him, trying to sound upbeat. “Hey, buddy. Look, I’m back in town—”

  “Thank fuck,” he cut across me. “It’s been chaos here. They were all going to up sticks and go and find you, and they’re already talking about launching a search party to find Ella. They can’t believe you didn’t tell them about any of this.”

  “Well, good news,” I replied. “We’re getting everything in order tonight, cards on the table. Tonight. At Frederick’s Diner, across town. You know it?”

  “I do,” Declan confirmed. “But do you really think that’s going to fit all of us?”

  “Not a chance,” I admitted. “Just bring a few of the guys, they can fill in the rest. Besides, all of us hanging out a diner is bit too much like a crappy cliché for my liking.”

  “Maybe we can burst into song when we’ve finished our drinks?”

  “Good one,” I replied sarcastically. “So, see you there? Eight?”

  “I’ll let everyone else know,” he promised. I went to hang up, but before I could, he spoke again. “Jazz?”

  “Yeah?”

  “We’re glad to have you in town,” he muttered. I knew emotion wasn’t the strong suit of anyone in the DM, but I could tell that he meant it.

  “Thanks, man.”

  Declan hung up the phone, as if horrified by what he’d done. I grinned at the blank screen as I pulled it away from my ear—I knew not everyone would want them on their side, but I was glad I had the Marauders to rely on when shit like this started to go down. I was touched—yeah, actually touched—by how much they seemed to give a shit about me and, more importantly, Ella. I’d kept them out of the situation ever since she’d been taken, knowing that if they got even the slightest inkling that she was in danger they’d tear the entire town apart making sure she was safe. The last thing I needed was for a bunch of them to get charged with shit on top of everything else I was handling.

  I’d given Declan permission to pass on the truth when I left just in case any of them spotted her, but in retrospect I should have known what the reaction would be. In my defense, I’d been far from my right mind when I had made the call. Maybe I should have told them sooner—maybe getting them in on this would mean I had it under control already—but I wanted to keep Ella separate from that life as far as humanely possible. Well, it looked like I didn’t have much choice in the matter anymore; it was either get them involved, or cut off another avenue of help to my daughter.

  My heart ached when I thought about her, and my head spun when I considered even briefly what she might be going through. I clenched my fists and did my best to calm myself. Getting mad wasn’t going to do much good now—she needed me to be in-control and on top of shit. I could be as mad as I wanted once I’d taken Ian down, once I had her back in my arms again. But until that moment, I had to be brutally cold, logical, and removed, so I could get as many people on my side as possible. The cops weren’t acting fast enough—hell, maybe they’d already given up by now. Maybe Ian thought he had gotten away with whatever disgusting plan he had up his sleeve. But he hadn’t counted on me—hadn’t counted on all of us, in fact.

  The door opened, and I jumped—but found myself faced with a grinning Mona.

  “Did you get him?” I leaned forward, and she nodded.

  “Says he’ll be down after his shift is done, but we can’t tell anyone that he’s helping us out,” she confirmed, unwrapping the scarf she had tied around her neck. “What about the Marauders?”

  “They’re on board. So we just need…?”

  “Lucy’s going to be stopping back here tonight anyway so we can just take her with us,” Mona went on breathlessly. “I’ll text her and let her know what’s going on.”

  “And Mary and Paul are already in,” I rounded off. “So we’re ready to go?”

  She nodded. “We’re ready to go.” My brow furrowed for a moment, and Mona seemed to notice, approaching me and wrapping her arms around my neck. “We’re going to be able to do this,” she promised. “With everyone there…trust me. We’ve got a damn good chance of figuring this shit out if we all put our heads together.”

  I put my arms around her and buried my face in her neck, losing myself to the scent of her. I was so glad she was there—I would have gone batshit fucking insane without her, and knowing that someone else was on my side just made it easier to handle all of this. I would be thankful for her no matter what—though she seemed optimistic that something would come of this.

  “I really hope you’re right,” I murmured in response. I wished I could be more upbeat, but I couldn’t; not yet. Not until I had Ella back in her bedroom where I could stick my head in on her whenever I needed to—and not until Ian was behind bars where he belonged. For good.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  I sat at the edge of the booth, one foot dangling off onto the floor, and drummed my fingers on the table anxiously.

  Lucy had texted back to say she’d meet us there, and I could tell she was already curious to see what this was all about. I think everyone was—Scott had promised that he would snake his way out of his double shift later tonight and come down, while Paul and Mary seemed happy just to have an excuse to get out of their daughter’s house for the time being. They’d been staying there since the fire, and by all accounts it was pretty cramped, but they couldn’t go anywhere else till the insurance came through. Though Paul seemed reluctant at first, when we promised to pay for everything, they agreed happily.

  I wondered if they knew it was about Ella-shit; I guess they had to. Everyone must have some idea. After all, it had been nine days since she went missing. The clock was ticking down, I already knew in my heart of hearts that the chances of finding her alive were painfully slim, but I did my best to ignore that as I bounced my heel off the grubby tile below me.

  Jazz was outside, waiting for everyone to arrive—I could tell that he was craving a cigarette, as he kept reaching absently into his pockets as though he expected to find something in there. It was drizzling rain outside, and I prayed that no one would be put off coming out because of it. Hopefully, they knew it was worth more than a bit of bad weather.

  I chewed on my
thumbnail, and a waitress came by—it was her third time strolling by my bit of the diner, and I still hadn’t ordered anything. I did my best to avoid her gaze but she paused in front of the table and put her hands on her hips. In a firm but polite tone, she spoke.

  “You going to order anything, honey?”

  “Just a coffee,” I replied, not meeting her gaze. Then I realized that I didn’t know if caffeine was good for the baby or not, and hurriedly added an addendum. “Decaf.”

  She raised her eyebrows and strolled away again, probably thinking that I was going to be the crappiest tipper she’d ever encountered. I couldn’t give her much thought, though, as I stared out across the rain-drenched street outside and waited for everyone to turn up. This was torturous—knowing that we were so close to finally putting our heads together and actually coming up with something, but still stalled until we had the whole group here.

  I had no idea if or how this was going to work. Just that more information surely meant that we’d be off on a better foot than we were before. We just needed something, anything to go on—and maybe with all our heads together we would see a connection we’d been blind to before.

  Suddenly, I spotted Lucy approaching down the street; I jumped to my feet without thinking and promptly sat down again, self-consciously glancing around to check that none of the patrons of this place were staring at me too hard. She nodded at Jazz as she got nearer, and he gestured inside towards me. She entered, glanced around, and zeroed in on me in my booth. She joined quickly, nudging me along with her hip so she could sit on the same side I was on.

  “So, am I to take from this that the two of you are back together?” She raised her eyebrows at me, and I nodded. I couldn’t keep the small smile off my face, despite the circumstances—I was just so happy that we’d managed to find something that made sense somewhere in this entire mess. And we had Lucy to thank for it.

  “We are. And…thank you. Thank you so much. I don’t know if he’d have ever come back if you hadn’t spoken to him.”

  “I don’t think you’re giving him enough credit,” she replied gently. “He really loves you, you know.”

  “I do.” I smiled at her, and felt myself tearing up again. Jesus, I really needed to get my shit together—bursting into tears every ten seconds just wouldn’t do at all.

  “And the baby?” she prompted—I realized I hadn’t even told her what we’d decided to do, and shook my head, dismissing my tears quickly. There would be plenty of time to be as sad or happy as I wanted once all this was over—right now was the time for action.

  “We’re keeping it,” I murmured. “That’s why everyone’s here tonight, actually.”

  “What, is this some kind of birth announcement?”

  I shook my head. “No, it’s about…it’s about Ella,” I managed, forcing her name from between my lips even though it ached me to say it aloud. “Jazz wants the baby to grow up with its big sister. So he’s giving it one last shot, putting everyone’s heads together in the hopes that we can see a connection we didn’t before.”

  “Thank Christ.” She grasped my hand. “Because the thought of him just giving up on that little girl…”

  “He would never,” I promised her. “He was just scared and he ran. He’s not going to do that again, not until we know for sure what happened to her.”

  “Good.” Lucy met my gaze steadily, and I felt a warm wash of comfort across my mind—despite everything, she made me feel grounded, made me feel as though all of this was possible.

  Before I had a chance to get soppy with her once again, Jazz returned from outside and he had everyone else in tow.

  “Hey.” He greeted the two of us with a nod, and stood back to let everyone take their seats. “Do you guys all know each other?”

  “Uh, I don’t think so,” remarked Declan, eyeing Lucy blatantly across the table. Her eyebrow flickered up at his attentions, daring him to do more, but I could tell she didn’t mind.

  “Mona, can you do the introductions?” Jazz asked. “I’m going to get some menus.”

  I introduced everyone—it didn’t take long, but it still felt slightly awkward when Jazz returned to the table with the laminated menus and distributed them among us. We were a disparate, weird little bunch who didn’t make a whole lot of sense together, and I couldn’t shake that feeling. We ordered, and soon enough the food arrived; as soon as it had, Jazz placed his knife and fork down on the edge of his plate and took a deep breath. Everyone turned to watch him as he prepared to speak. Even here, in a situation like this, he was respected and in control—there was no arguing with that. He took a moment, reaching for his water and wrapping his hand around the condensation-laden glass, before he managed to get the words out.

  “This is about Ella,” he finally began. “As I’m sure you all know.” There was a mutual nod around the table as everyone confirmed their understanding of the situation. “She went missing just over a week ago, and the police haven’t been much help in finding her,” Jazz continued, his voice wavering slightly. I reached for his hand beneath the table—he took it and squeezed gratefully before he went on.

  “So we were hoping that by getting everyone here who might be able to help us, we could figure out something that individually we might have missed.” He looked around the table, and I noticed Paul and Mary exchanging a glance; their eyes widened briefly, as though the real meaning of this meeting had escaped them till now. But Mary gave Paul a barely imperceptible nod, one that said “we’re doing this,” and they turned back to the conversation.

  “So, this is our last shot. We don’t know how much time we have, but we figured this was better than nothing.” Jazz spread his hands wide, encompassing the whole table. His voice trailed off into nothing, fading out as a lump raised in his throat and he did his best to swallow it. He glanced over at me, and I knew it was my turn to pick up the slack.

  “So, here’s what we know so far,” I began, keeping my tone brusque and businesslike. I ran down the events of the last few months—from my arrival in the house, to the discovery of the footsteps, to the visit to Addison’s place, to the fire and everything in between. Everyone listened in silence, taking in every word as though I was recounting the plot of a primetime crime special.

  Then I came to a close, mentioning the mangled toys they’d found in the burned-out husk of Mary and Paul’s house. Even the memory of it was enough to send my head spinning, but I did my best to go on and make sure that we had all the facts out on the table before we laid out anything new. Everyone sat there in silence for a moment, not making eye contact, as though if they did they would acknowledge the horror of everything I’d just told them. Eventually, though, someone broke the silence.

  “I know something,” Scott piped up. He raised his gaze from the table and looked around, like he was checking that he’d actually said that and not just imagined it. Jazz and I exchanged a look, and then turned our attention to him.

  “Something new?” Jazz prompted, and Scott nodded.

  “Everything,” he admitted, and ran his hands through his hair. “I did some more research after you guys called me today. I had to. I knew there was something missing, and you know, what with Elijah being out and everything…”

  He trailed off, and I could see the pain etched on to his face. He wasn’t the only person who had lost something in pursuit of this. He took a deep breath and carried on. “I managed to go back further in Ian’s file. A lot of it was sealed because he was a juvenile when he was arrested, but I hacked into the servers and managed to find out everything I could about what he was like growing up.”

  “And?” Jazz leaned forward. Everyone else was silent, eyes glued on Scott.

  “He went crazy when his father died,” Scott explained. “I mean, totally, completely batshit off-the-wall crazy. Dangerous. He’d never been close to his mother, but his little sister and his father—he never got over that.”

  “And she was Ella’s age when she died, right?” Lucy cut in, eye
s wide. I had only drip-fed her details all this time, and I could tell that the whole truth was freaking the shit out of her. Yeah, well, she wasn’t the only one.

  “That’s right.” Scott nodded. “And he was locked up for some serious shit when he was a teenager. Abduction, assault. That kind of thing.”

  “Addison said it was just for petty crap,” I murmured, half to myself.

  “Guess he was lying.” Scott shrugged. “I’ve got no idea how much his brother actually knows—maybe it was kept from him so he wouldn’t be scared of living with Ian or something, I don’t know.”