The Hangman (Forgotten Files Book 3)

by Mary Burton

  He grabbed Monroe’s body and dragged it toward an SUV. Hefting the dead weight, he loaded her in the back and covered her with a tarp. “He never took a bribe. Not once. Dedicated son of a bitch. Nothing would stop him from putting Popov behind bars. I used to tell him that he needed to bend and learn to look the other way. But he wouldn’t listen.”

  “That arrest made both your careers.”

  “And would have ended my life if I hadn’t learned to bend.”

  She twisted her hands, trying to free them from the ropes. “What did you do?”

  “I saved Popov’s ass. If not for me, I think the old bastard would have gotten the death penalty.”

  All the victims had worked with Jim as confidential informants. Rene gave up information that led to Popov’s arrest, but before his trial she refused to testify. “Did you see to it Rene didn’t testify?”

  “I had a chat with her. She was smart and knew when to back off. Popov got life in prison, but that wasn’t enough for Jim. He was working on Rene, trying to get her to testify in another case against Popov.”

  “But she was murdered by a serial killer.”

  “What are the chances of that?”

  The chances were almost zero. “You are the Hangman.”

  He touched the tip of his nose and grinned. “Good guess.”

  “And you killed the others to cover up her murder?”

  “I did.” He studied her, genuine curiosity glistening in his dark eyes. “How did you figure out to come here and look for Delany? I was careful.”

  “Rita Gallagher.” Her throat was dry, and her jaw ached. She wouldn’t be surprised if he’d broken it.

  He looked sincerely interested. “What did little Rita tell you?”

  “Delany’s Church Hill neighbor saw him with a redhead the night her mother died. It was November 2.”

  “That was twenty-five years ago. How could anyone remember that?”

  A wave of pain rocketed through her jaw. She blinked, clearing her vision. “Delany and Rita showed up at the house just as the ambulance arrived for her mother. Her mother died that night, and she never forgot. So Jim couldn’t have killed her.”

  He shook his head. “And to think I went out of my way to make sure she was found.”

  “You set the fire?”

  “I did.” He seemed to enjoy discussing secrets that he’d carried for over twenty years.

  “Delany brought her to you. You were waiting at the Church Hill house.” Etta remembered seeing Delany, but on the night her mother died, she’d missed seeing Unger slip inside.

  Unger moved over to Delany’s body and kicked it. “He owed Popov a big favor. The old guy bailed Delany’s ass out after he lost his shirt in the real estate market. His payback was the house in Church Hill. What a pile of junk, but real estate is all about location. We ran a lot of drugs there with no interference, and of course made it Rita’s final resting place. Delany was told never to sell it, but I guess he thought enough time had passed and he could do what he wanted. He was wrong.”

  She shook her head, wincing with pain and trying to stay conscious. Her mouth was dry, her throat raw. The cold metal of the buckle dug into her palm. “Rita was having an affair with Jim.”

  “She was Popov’s little handmaiden. Her job was to lure those women to the warehouse and seduce Jim. She said, by the way, that he was an easy lay. He was bored and restless. Domestic life didn’t suit him so well.”

  “Did she kill Jim?”

  He nodded. “She was supposed to bring him to the last warehouse, but he wouldn’t go. He was waiting on you and your mother.” He pouted. “Poor Jim wanted to be good, but it just wasn’t in him.”

  “How could she shoot him with his own gun? Jim wasn’t a fool.”

  “She said since he’d gotten back from the firing range, he had cleaned the gun and reloaded it. He’d stepped away, and when he came back into the kitchen she’d come through the back door. She was holding the gun and pointing it at her temple. He lunged to stop her and she turned the gun on him. He staggered, and she lowered him to the chair and staged it to look like a suicide. You should have seen her. She was so proud of herself. She had no idea she had messed up my plans.”

  Jim had not shot himself. The news was too much to absorb right now. “His partner said there was a note.”

  “Rita wrote it. She was good at copying handwriting. But good old Ken came to the rescue and took it. Loyalty between partners is very touching.”

  “The letters to Vicky?” she asked, more to herself. “Rita wrote them to trick Vicky.”

  “Yes.”

  Her jaw throbbed. “So Rita came to you?”

  “Like a good little girl hoping for a reward.”

  “Why did you kill her?”

  “Because she was there to tape each of the Hangman murders for Popov to see. But most importantly because she shot Jim. That was my job. Popov had been clear about what my job was. And I thought he’d skin me alive. I lost my temper and hit her hard with the butt of my gun. She dropped to her knees. She was barely breathing, but I hit her again, and when she fell I pressed my hand over her nose and mouth.”

  “And you left her in that room?”

  “I wasn’t sure what to do at first. Then I thought I’d leave her. I knew one day I would have to double back for you. If you’d not reopened the case, her body would have.”

  The download of information was almost too much to process, but she kept talking. Andrews would figure out where she was. She had to believe that this time help would arrive before it was too late. “You were hired to kill those women, but why come after me?”

  He stepped forward, the overhead light accentuating the hard angles of his face framed by white hair. “It was part of the deal with Popov. But the old man was dead and the family didn’t seem to care, so I was almost tempted to let this part of the deal slide, until Elizabeth Monroe came to me.”

  “She knew all the details of the original deal. She told you to murder Lana,” Julia said.

  He wagged his finger at the woman’s dead body. “She wanted to resurrect the Hangman. She needed a loose end snipped. She said she’d pay me if I said yes and tell the Popovs I was going to the cops if I said no.”

  She moistened her dried lips as she pushed through the pain throbbing in her ears.

  He picked up a water bottle, twisted the top off, and moved toward her. He held the bottle up to her mouth. She staggered back a step. She needed to buy time. Feed his ego. Listen to him talk. Anything.

  “Why the public displays?” Warm blood oozed under the ropes as she twisted.

  “Hide in plain sight. If I murdered Rene and the others with no style, it would have looked like Popov ordered the hit. Women murdered in a fetish style would create sensation and divert attention. Sad for poor Rene, but no one cared she was dead.”

  He was right. The media coverage had been sparse after Rene’s body was found. He stood a few steps from Julia. His gaze sparked with delight. “I waited a couple of weeks before I strung up Tamara. Frankly, I was a bit annoyed no one had paid attention to Rene. I worked hard on my display of her body. I took even more time with Tamara. I wanted people to pay attention, and I needed Jim to wonder if Rene’s death was attached to him.”

  “Rita led them to where you wanted to murder them.”

  “She was an eager little helper. She was devoted to me and to the idea that she was helping Popov. And you know, I got used to having her around, and I missed her after she was gone. She was fun.”

  She tried to turn the buckle blade upward so she could saw it against the ropes. “Was this all about the money?”

  His gaze sharpened. “You sound like your father.”

  “Did he know you worked for Popov?”

  “He was smart as hell. It was a matter of time before he put the pieces together. You remind me so much of Jim. Smart and determined.”

  “Did you kill those women for the money?”

  “Popov’s people came
to me. Threatened to skin my mother and siblings alive if I didn’t take the money and do the job. I knew he meant it, so it was an easy choice.”

  “You could have gone to your superiors. You didn’t have to kill for him.”

  He shook his head. “You don’t say no to a family who will cut your family to pieces and mail them back to you bit by bit.”

  “But now?” She was feeling steadier on her feet. She purposefully let her shoulders slump and rocked back and forth as if unsteady.

  “As I said, Monroe opened it all back up. And I couldn’t trust that she hadn’t spoken to the Popov family. Killing you will mean something to them and maybe earn me a little goodwill in the face of whatever Monroe might have said to them.”

  “Kill Jim’s only child. It’s something Popov would have ordered if he were alive.”

  “Something like that.” He shrugged. “Frankly, I enjoy all this far more than I should.” He put down the water bottle and tested the length of rope with a tug. “I always thought it interesting that you became a cop and did undercover work like your old man and me. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

  “So what happens next? Do you string me up and watch me suffocate?”

  “Basically, yes.” He turned to get busy.

  She pushed the knife against her ropes. “You think you’ll get away with this?”

  “The Hangman will retire. Or perhaps find a new place to play. You even said it yourself that the Church Hill neighbor saw Marcus Delany with Rita. He will vanish after tonight, and the cops can spend their time chasing him.”

  She pulled hard against the ropes. Frayed threads broke, and her hand, scraped and bloodied, slipped free. She pulled the other free and waited as he moved toward her. If he wanted to string her up, he’d have to get close. Heart hammering in her chest, she watched as he readied to close the distance between them.

  She lunged toward him.

  “Where is she, Andrews?” Novak demanded.

  “Still on the property, as is her vehicle.”

  Novak gunned the engine, arriving at Delany’s seconds later. He parked behind Julia’s car, killed the lights, and shut off his vehicle. Out of the SUV he stripped off his jacket and spied the darkened house. He called Andrews. “Her vehicle is here. Can you pinpoint her location?”

  “Only within a hundred feet of the property. Not a specific building. How long before backup arrives?”

  “Less than a minute or two, but I’m not waiting. I’m moving in toward the main house now.”

  “Understood.”

  As he approached the main house, he could see there were no lights on. To the right and behind it was a large garage. Lights glowed from the window. Adrenaline pumped, narrowing his focus. Weapon in hand, he approached the garage, praying Julia was still alive. When he found her, he’d give her hell for being such a cowboy. “Jesus, Julia, you have got to be okay.”

  He was less than a few feet away when he heard a scream.

  Julia slashed her buckle knife across his eye and face, cutting into soft flesh. Blood gushed from the wound.

  “Bitch!” he screamed as he cupped his hand to his eye.

  She lowered her head and drove her body into Unger’s chest. The unexpected blow caught him off guard, and he hit the concrete floor hard. But he immediately rolled to his side and righted himself. His gaze burned with fury as he growled.

  “I’m going to string you up and make sure it takes hours for you to die.”

  She pushed past the pain in her body and gripped the knife at her side. “You’re not stringing me up like your other victims.”

  When the gunshot echoed in the garage, she froze, fearing Unger had fired at her. She stared at her attacker. His cool detachment had been replaced by anger. Seconds slowed. Time almost stopped.

  As the rush of adrenaline ebbed, she realized she’d not been hit. It was Unger who’d been shot. He staggered back, a bloom of blood growing quickly on his chest. He drew in a ragged breath and raised his hand to his chest. He stared at his bloodstained fingertips and looked as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

  He raised his gaze and looked past her. His face twisted into a snarl, and he lunged forward. Another shot followed from behind her, hitting him again. He fell back to the ground.

  She couldn’t pull her attention from Unger’s body, which lay sprawled on the floor. Her heartbeat drummed in her ears, and her vision narrowed.

  “Julia!” The sound of Novak’s voice snapped her back to the present. “Are you okay?”

  “No.” Julia sucked in a breath as her vision cleared. Her hands were trembling as adrenaline surged in her body again. Sweat dampened her shirt.

  Novak pushed past her, gun still drawn, and rushed up to Unger, his weapon pointed at the man. He checked for a pulse.

  “Is he dead?” she asked.

  “No pulse.” Novak rolled Unger onto his belly and handcuffed him.

  He turned to her. “Julia, are you hurt?”

  Her mouth was dry, her head pounding. “Nothing I won’t survive. Is he dead?”

  “Yes.”

  Her adrenaline crashed, and tears clogged her throat. “Good.”

  Gently he touched her cheek. “You are not okay.”

  She managed a shaky nod. Novak had been her partner on this case, her team, and he’d saved her. Swells of gratitude and relief collided. “Scrapes and bruises.”

  He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. “You did it, Julia. Your father would be proud.”

  She leaned into him, burying her face in his chest, inhaling his scent. All the years of wondering about her father and living under his shadow and the Hangman’s were over. She’d seen it through. “I got him.”

  EPILOGUE

  Thursday, December 21, 8:00 p.m.

  The holiday rush at the bar commenced in early December. People busy with family and festivities came to Billy’s for drinks and a little conversation before heading back into the holiday storm, as Julia called it. She always requested the holiday shift. It was tradition. It was home.

  Her bruises had faded, as had the rope burns on her wrists. She’d tried to argue she was fit for duty, but her boss had ordered her to take time to decompress. “I don’t want to see you until after January 1,” he’d said.

  The downtime had proved to be irritating. She’d visited with Ken a couple of times. Wendy had been guarded at first, but Julia assured her she wouldn’t press for an investigation into Wendy’s handling of the evidence. Wendy and Ken needed each other now, so she was willing to leave everything associated with the Hangman in the past.

  Julia had tried to take it easy, but finally the vacation was too much and she’d grabbed an apron and moved behind Cindy’s bar. Her aunt had not been happy, but Julia convinced her she’d go mad if she binge-watched another television series.

  Julia and Novak had been seeing each other regularly over the last six weeks. He’d encouraged her to leave a toothbrush and several of her things at his house, and when they weren’t together, they spoke daily. It was peaceful. The two of them were in their own little world.

  A week ago, he’d delivered unexpected news. Benny Santiago had been knifed to death two days after arriving in prison. She’d have been lying if she said she’d not felt relief. He was one less demon to worry about.

  When Bella came home for Thanksgiving, Julia had made herself scarce, letting the two enjoy their holiday. And now as Christmas loomed and Novak’s daughter had returned, she’d retreated again. Again, she told Novak to enjoy his kid and to not worry about her. They’d find each other again in January after the New Year. Julia had plenty to do with helping Cindy behind the bar.

  “Why are you here?” Cindy asked as she straightened the red Santa hat perched on her head.

  Julia grabbed a couple of empty tumblers from the shelf and filled each with two fingers of bourbon. “I’m helping you, remember? The holidays get crazy, and your regular help always flakes.”

  “Thought yo
u’d be with your man.”

  “He’s not my man, Cindy. And his daughter is home from college. It’s their family time.”

  “And they can’t include you? I gave ’em a pass at Thanksgiving, but not now.”

  “I didn’t give him the chance to ask. Told him I was busy and working here.”

  “I can judge men pretty well. Novak is a good man, and you’re important to him. You should be with him.”

  “I’m the chick he dates. And that’s okay.”

  Cindy shook her head. “Why do you still keep your distance?”

  “I’m not keeping my distance.”

  “You’re just hedging your bets because you think he’ll leave like Jim.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Then why aren’t you together now?”

  Julia couldn’t give her a good answer. “Cindy, the guy wants to spend time with Bella. I can’t begrudge that. I’d have loved it if Jim had wanted to spend a holiday with me.”

  Julia served up the two drinks, wiped down the bar, and refilled the peanut bowls. She liked the familiarity of the bar. It was easy to lose herself in the mundane work and take her time processing what had happened only six weeks earlier.

  Nate Unger had created the Hangman when Alexi Popov had told him to destroy Detective Jim Vargas. Popov didn’t want Jim to simply die; he wanted Jim’s family and life stripped from him, his reputation ruined. Rita had also been enlisted. Her job was to seduce Jim and turn his personal life upside down. When the cops searched Unger’s country house, they’d found a collection of videos that had been made during the hangings. In several instances, Unger panned the camera around the warehouse and captured Rita standing in the back, smiling. Waving.

  Andrews dug into Unger’s bank accounts and discovered he’d been paid over $1 million for his Hangman work. Most of the money had been wired into numerous small accounts. Judging by the account balances, he’d not spent much money over the years. He never really cared about it. It was the one truth he told Julia.

  Unger had slipped into the Hangman persona as easily as he had his undercover identities. He lost himself in the role, became the person, and this time discovered he liked the monster.