Broken Bonds Boxed Set 1-3

by Trisha Wolfe

  “I’ve put two of my best on keeping a lookout over your mother,” Quinn says, as if he’s mentally tapping into my thoughts. I’m probably completely transparent. Unable to mask anything at this point.

  “Thank you.” I swallow hard as I lift the last print. “I’m sure these are Avery’s, but I don’t want to leave any piece of evidence out of the investigation.” I place the cards on Avery’s worktable. “We should hurry. The techs need to get back in here so they can keep working on what Avery—”

  I cut myself off as it comes to me. “What was Avery last working on? I mean, besides what I asked for.” I look around, trying to deduce her methodology. It’s tidy and neat…but in a way that probably only makes sense to Avery.

  “The last time I heard from her, she called me about the third vic. She was working on a physical profile of the UNSUB based on the strength needed to hoist a body. We planned to run through it with a computer program to simulate the crime scene.”

  Her computer.

  Everyone in the lab has access to the same files, but Avery has her own, tightly guarded notes. I remove my glasses and pull up a chair, then tap the keyboard, awakening the screen.

  While I log in under my ID and search through Avery’s files, Quinn says, “She could’ve been abducted at any point from here to her home. So far, CSU hasn’t uncovered anything at her house. We should broaden the search.” He moves toward the wall lockers, inspecting the fingerprints. “Everyone has been in this lab at some point. If the UNSUB did find a way in here, it’s like searching for a damn needle in a haystack for evidence.”

  “He’s intelligent. He would’ve used forensic countermeasures to remove any evidence. But he’s not perfect, Quinn. This abduction was hasty. If he was here, right under the department’s nose, even someone with a god complex is cautious enough to be quick about it.”

  “For Avery’s sake, I hope you’re right.” Quinn resumes his search.

  “We know the UNSUB deviated greatly from his MO in order to abduct Avery,” I say, flipping through each file on the victims. “We know the vic—” I break off, irritated with myself for referring to Avery as a victim. “We know the target personally this time. So he couldn’t perform his ritual at her home. That changes everything. We have to come at this from a completely different angle. It has to have greater meaning for him in order for him to pull a switch at this point. And that means he still could’ve left us something either at her house, or here, or wherever he abducted her from. Something to mark his territory.” I release a strenuous breath as I locate Avery’s current notes on the third vic. “He’s too vain to pass up an opportunity to show us how clever he is. He needs to brag.”

  “But if it was a spur of the moment attack rather than planned out, that could mean we’re wasting our time looking for a clue,” Quinn says. “Besides, there are no signs of a struggle here.” Quinn turns around and focuses the light on the ceiling-mounted body hangers near the autopsy tables. “Wait.”

  I look up. Quinn tilts his head as he examines the white straps of one of the hangers with a gloved hands. “What is it?”

  “I’m not sure.” He motions me over. “Stand in front here.”

  I glance at the screen again before I meet him in the middle of the lab, where he positions me in front of the hanger.

  “You’re smaller than Avery, but it should still line up fairly the same.” He raises my arms and mimics wrapping the strap around one of my wrists. “There’s no need to restrain a body here…since they’re all pretty compliant, considering they’re dead.”

  “Not funny, Quinn.”

  “I’m not trying to be.” His eyes meet mine. “The straps are twisted and look here—” he brings one forward and points to a tear. “I’m no lab tech, but I highly doubt anyone would need to secure a dead body this tightly in a hanger.”

  I glance around, frantic. “There.” I point to a scalpel on the worktable. He grabs the tool and moves me in front of the second hanger. Before he even begins to reenact the scene, my heart is pounding in my ears.

  “We’ll try this out here so we don’t add trace to the other hanger,” he says as he secures my wrist with the strap.

  A few weeks ago, this scenario would’ve decimated me. The feel of the strap tightening around my wrist floods me with panic, but it’s not my fear. It’s the realization that Avery experienced this—it’s her terror leveling me, the dread of what she must’ve suffered.

  Even still, the situation causes my arms to tremble. Quinn isn’t Colton—the only man I’ve ever trusted to restrain me. As the straps begin to constrict my movement, I flinch away, knocking Quinn’s chin with my elbow.

  He groans and backs away, cupping his jaw.

  “Oh shit—sorry.”

  He curses and works out his jaw. “Nice elbow, Bonds. Right in my tooth.”

  “Jesus, Quinn. You still haven’t seen a dentist?”

  He shakes off the pain and rights himself. “With what time?” A determined glint lights his eyes as he steps closer. “Try not to punch me, okay?” He finishes tying off the straps, then looks over the restraints. “This isn’t right.”

  He drops his hands with a huff. “Avery’s a fighter. She would’ve screamed. She would’ve struggled, not stood here like this, just letting him tie her up.”

  “She was drugged,” I say, envisioning the scene. “Like I said, he had to veer from his MO. If she was sedated, he could easily subdue her.”

  Quinn must agree, because he moves behind me and wraps his arm around my waist. “He’d have to hold her in place.” I let my body go lax, trying and failing not to picture Avery in my place. I shut my eyes. Breathe through the horror of it.

  As he gets my other wrist bound, he grunts as he reaches for one of the scalpels on the table. He pushes the tool through the strap, securing it closely against my wrist. He does the same thing to my other arm. His hard chest holds me up as I lean against him. He turns one of my wrists toward him. “The size of the hole in the strap matches. The UNSUB restrained her right in her own lab, the motherfucker. How did CSU miss this?”

  “That’s a good question,” I say, wriggling my wrist free. “But there’s an even more obvious one we need to be asking.” I free my other wrist and start toward the computer. “The UNSUB is meticulous. Everything planned, every detail covered. But instead of using his own tools, restraining her with his own rope, he used what was handy to him at the time.”

  Quinn’s face contorts in a stern frown. “As if he was already close. Already in the building. And abducting Avery was a spur of the moment choice. Dammit.”

  “Exactly.” I tap the mouse pad and open Avery’s most recent file. “And, instead of abducting her quickly, he restrained her here. There was something here he wanted.”

  He removes his glasses. “You were right, Bonds. Avery was on to something. She was in his way.” Quinn paces the length of the room as he takes out his phone and calls in the update. “We need to block off the M.E. lab. Get this place yellow taped and order in a full sweep. This time, focusing on a captive situation.”

  As he ends the call, I look up and say, “Quinn, I don’t trust anyone to go through the evidence here. We need to figure out what’s missing—if anything—before the team comes in for another sweep.”

  “Hell. That could take damn near all day, if not longer.” He moves to stand beside me and points to the screen. “What were her last notes?”

  I shake my head. “You said she was going to work with you on the third vic scenario. But her recent entry is on the last vic. Her theories and tests on exsanguination.” I run through her notes, looking at the timestamps. “Shit.”

  Quinn catches on quickly. “He deleted files.”

  “We need a tech to go through the metadata.”

  Quinn turns the keyboard toward him. “No time.” He scans the evidence logs, looking for anything checked out by Avery. When that doesn’t produce results, he clicks open the server and proceeds to pull up logs for the past two d
ays.

  “How do you know how to do this? You’re the last person I’d assume to be computer savvy.”

  A smile twitches at his mouth. “I’m full of surprises, Bonds.” He looks over and winks before returning to his search. “Bingo. It’s not a full record, but it’s enough. Her last entry was on evidence identifier three-oh-one.” He pulls up the chain of custody files and locates the item information. “The rope recovered at the third crime scene on the suspended vic.”

  I’m out of the seat and searching the evidence lockers for the rope.

  Quinn puts in a call to the evidence room in the station. “Who signed it out? When?” His gaze follows me around the room. “Okay, thanks.”

  “Let me guess. It was already signed out by Avery,” I say, shutting the locker.

  “Yeah.”

  “The rope isn’t here. Neither is the sample I gave her.” I press my hands to my forehead, trying to push away the growing ache. “Avery had him. She found his mistake. She had to—and it cost her.” I steeple my fingers over my mouth, thinking. “Who else would have access to her notes? The whole lab? Someone else has to know what she found.”

  “Kyle has every lab tech up in holding taking statements.”

  “We need to be ahead of this. We have to consider the possibility that—”

  “I know, Sadie.” Quinn shoves a hand through his hair. His phone beeps, and he looks down at the message. “Damn. Kyle says one tech didn’t come in today. It was reported to be her day off, but no one can get ahold of her.”

  “She could know what Avery discovered.” A sinking feeling pulls at my stomach. “She could also be the leak, Quinn.”

  “Maybe.” Quinn grabs an evidence bag and drops the scalpel inside. “Let’s secure the scene, then we’re heading to that tech. She can’t come in to make a statement, we’ll go to her.”

  I nod and quickly mark the hanger, shoving my fears aside. My hands suffer a sudden tremor, and I drop the roll of evidence tape. “Crap.” I watch it roll under Avery’s desk. Crouching down, I reach for the roll and spot something on the underside of the desk.

  “Oh, my God. Avery, you’re so sneaky.” I reach up and detach a notebook from the desk.

  Quinn walks over. “You got trace?”

  I smile up at him. “Better.” Dropping the book into a bag, I say, “We got Avery’s personal notes. Old-school style.”

  He lends me a hand, helping me to my feet, then taps his phone. “Kyle, forward me all the statements of the lab techs and have the analysts go through the lab surveillance and the servers. Someone deleted files. I want to know why and how it was missed, and how someone got into the system. See if there’s any altered surveillance and keep me updated.”

  “You didn’t tell him about the missing evidence.”

  He drops his phone into his trench coat pocket and guides me toward the double doors. “That’s because I don’t want the lab techs to know what we know yet.”

  “You don’t trust Kyle?” I ask as I grab my bag before we push through the doors.

  “I don’t trust anyone anymore.”

  A heaviness weighs on my chest. I’ve lived with that mistrust my whole life—and now it’s returned with a vengeance.

  5

  Frailty

  Colton

  “You scored big.”

  I ignore Carson’s comment and instead check my phone. Sadie had one of the computer guys at the station install GPS software on our phones so we can locate the other quickly.

  Right now, she’s still at the department. As long as that little green dot on my screen stays active, I’m able to breathe. And to put up with Carson’s shit. He hasn’t stopped talking since we got in the car.

  “I mean, a member of the ACPD. A profiler, no doubt.” Carson glances over at me, a smug smile stretching his face. “That’s a pretty worthy notch. Makes you look real good. Hell, and it’s Sadie. Tight little ass. Nice, perky tits. The other officers will probably take it easy on you just for the fact that you got in her pants, man. Not that she hasn’t been around. But that’s just inner office gossip.” He sends me another smile. “You know that, right?”

  Normally, I’d have him jacked up against his seat and on his way out the car door for talking about her that way, but I’m letting his bullshit roll right off. I get it—the petty attempt to rile me, to trip me up. I’m just offended he thinks I’m simple enough to fall for some cliché detective shit.

  He pulls into a spot in front of The Lair. Turns toward me as he opens his door. “Of course, not all the rumors are that far off. You know how freaky she is. It’s kind of obvious why Quinn has me babysitting you. Keeping you away from Sadie so he can have her to himself.”

  Still, I’m not above jealousy when it comes to Sadie. Carson is probing for a weak spot. And when my grip tightens on the phone, he chuckles.

  “For Sadie’s sake, and what she’s going through right now…” I say as I get out of the car and look at him from across the roof. “I’m not going to give you what you want. We can spend all day taking jabs at each other. Or we can work together.”

  His eyes squint. “We’re not partners. We’re not working together, dude. You’re a fucking suspect in a criminal investigation, and your brother—and this club—is in the middle of all of it.”

  I shrug. “Even so, you need my cooperation.” I slam the door shut. “You need a lot more from me than I do from you, rook. Trying to push my buttons so I take a swing at you and get locked up for the day? Not happening. Though, I would really love to put my fist through your face.” I smile. “Rain check?”

  He flips me off.

  As we head to the front door, I pull my key ring out and Carson straightens his tie. “Just get your brother here. That’s all the cooperation I need from you.”

  That tick in my eye has Carson’s name on it. As soon as this is over…

  My train of thought veers off as I nudge the door and it cracks open. Carson already has his gun drawn as he pushes me aside and takes up the front.

  “Stay here,” he says, knocking the door open with his foot. He quickly checks all angles before he moves into the club.

  Watching him is like watching a cop show. For all of Carson’s douchery, he takes charge like a true cop. But I’m not one to hang back. I follow his lead, checking the hallway entrance twice, before I enter the main level.

  “I should have a gun,” I say as I look for anything out of place. This could’ve been a break-in, but what kind of person needs to rob a BDSM club? I can’t imagine anyone being that hard up.

  Carson called it when he said the club is at the center of all this. I know my role, why the UNSUB has it out for me, but there’s got to be more. Which really has me questioning what my brother’s part is. Julian has to play some role of his own. I need to get a handle on that before Carson does.

  When Carson feels the bottom level is clear, he lowers his gun. “The last thing I’m doing is giving you a gun.” He shakes his head. “You’re a fucking suspect. Do you not get that?”

  “Yeah, I get that. But according to Sadie’s profile, so is everyone at the department. That includes you, Detective Dick.” He starts toward me, but I keep moving toward the stairs. Every second wasted fighting with Carson is a second keeping me away from Sadie. “Let’s check the surveillance. It doesn’t look like whoever was here stole anything. Nothing’s wrecked or damaged. Doubt it’s vandalism.”

  He laughs. “Now you’re a detective? Why don’t you stick with the pervy shit and leave the detecting to me.”

  I start to lead the way up the spiral staircase, but Carson jumps ahead. Fine by me. He can take the bullet.

  Once we reach the top level, I find the office door unlocked and open. A sick feeling worms its way into my stomach as I enter. Nothing looks touched, but there’s an eerie feeling floating through the room, as if someone was just here.

  “Pull up the surveillance,” Carson says. He sinks into one of the cushioned chairs, but keeps his gun at the rea
dy.

  I take a seat behind the desk. “We’re not partners, remember? And I sure as hell don’t work for you. So don’t bark orders at me.”

  He smiles and bats his eyes. “Pretty please?”

  I punch my password in and glance up. “What is your issue with me? Just because you think you have some evidence…that proves what? That I know my rope?”

  His brow furrows. “My gut instinct says you’re involved.”

  I guess I can’t argue with that. I’m not exactly innocent. But I keep Sadie’s words from last night close. She’s all the exoneration I need.

  “It’s up,” I say. Carson moves to stand beside me as I launch the playback footage of last night. “I should check the log of the break-in first.”

  He pulls up a chair. “Keep rolling last night’s footage. Finding the UNSUB is more important than your insurance claim right now.”

  I hate this guy—but he’s right. The sooner we can discover the identity of the UNSUB, the sooner Sadie is out of harm’s way.

  Carson looses a heavy breath. “Damn. This is going to take hours. Skip ahead to the timeframe where the UNSUB sent a pic of Sadie to your phone.”

  He doesn’t know all the details, but he knows just enough to make me uncomfortable. The letter the UNSUB pushed under my door last night feels heavy in my pocket. It’s too damn close to him right now.

  I move the footage up to later in the night…and spot Sadie. Sitting at her table, just like the image of her on my phone. I try to remember the angle of the pic. Where is he? My eyes scan the edges of the room, the stage, the bar…and then the screen goes black.

  “What the fuck?” Carson says.

  My sentiment exactly. I tap the keyboard, trying to figure out the glitch. But my gut says this is no malfunction. “It’s gone. Deleted.”

  “Sonofabitch.” Carson slams his hand on the desk. He whips out his phone. “Quinn, we have a problem. The security files at the club have been tampered with. Some footage from last night is missing.” A beat. “All right. I’ll keep you posted.”