DRAGON SECURITY: Volume 2: The Complete 6 Books Series

by Glenna Sinclair

  That was the last anyone heard of Randolph Myers-King’s son, daughter-in-law, and grandchildren. He passed away and left his fortune to his illegitimate son, as promised. His empire was no longer the force it had once been, but the Myers-King name still demanded respect in the city of Houston, if nowhere else.

  I read through the email multiple times.

  Erin Myers-King had quite a criminal past. She’d been arrested six times between her fourteenth birthday and her sixteenth, all on criminal trespassing and/or breaking and entering. She was accused of theft on multiple occasions, quite often from businesses that either belonged to, or were associated with, RMK Associates, her grandfather’s company. None of the charges ever stuck and the arrests stopped just after her sixteenth birthday. However, the Dragon tech team had discovered—how, I had no idea—several reports from various law enforcement agencies that claimed Erin was part of a larger theft ring and had participated in multiple large- scale robberies resulting in millions of dollars in missing art, jewelry, and other types of high-end property.

  Karma was a professional thief.

  I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around it, the idea that this eccentric, gentle woman was a criminal mastermind. It just didn’t seem possible, except that it was all here, her fingerprints at various crime scenes, her face on multiple security cameras. There was no denying it.

  Again I got up and paced, trying to reconcile all this in my mind.

  What did Karma’s past have to do with Rosalie? Probably nothing, but it couldn’t be ignored. What were the chances that a close friend of the missing person’s was a criminal in her own right? The Matthias family was not rich. Rita was married to a maintenance worker for NASA. He was paid a little better than the average janitor, but not by much. Their finances showed that they struggled a little every month, canceling out the suggestion that Rosalie might have been taken for ransom. But could there be another reason why someone like Karma would be interested in Rosalie?

  I went back to the computer and looked at the security footage from the night Karma had claimed someone broke into her room and stole the spare key for Rosalie’s hotel room. Sure enough, a little after midnight, a man with a hood over his face slipped into her room, stayed less than a minute, and slipped out again.

  She wasn’t lying about that, at least.

  I pulled up the security footage from outside Rosalie’s room the night she disappeared, but rather than look at the last moment anyone saw Rosalie, I backed it up to the moment the man arrived at her room. I watched closely, wondering how he’d gotten into the room. Did he knock? Did he have a key?

  He used a key.

  I then pulled the two screens up and studied them side by side. The man in the hood was approximately the same height as the man who left with Rosalie. In the latter footage, he wasn’t wearing a hood, but a ball cap pulled low over his head. But, to the untrained eye, it looked like the same man. It would be convenient if he had looked at the camera so that we could figure out what he looked like, but he seemed very aware of where the cameras were. When he stepped back out the door with Rosalie not ten minutes later, he kept his head turned away from the camera closest to her door. And he avoided the cameras in the lobby as well.

  This guy knew what he was doing.

  Why would this guy steal a key to get into Rosalie’s room? Why hadn’t Rosalie simply given him a key? How did Rosalie think he was getting into her room? Was she aware of what was happening?

  And then there was the obvious question that I was avoiding asking myself: Did Karma know this man?

  What if Karma and this man were working together and that was why she’d refused to tell me everything she knew? Or was it possible that this man was someone she knew and was protecting for that reason?

  None of this made any sense.

  Or maybe it did make sense and I simply didn’t like the direction it was taking me.

  I had to talk to Karma and to get some answers, even if she didn’t want to offer them.

  I grabbed my keys and headed out the door. But when I opened the door, she was standing there, blood pouring from her nose.

  “What the—”

  She fell forward into the room. I caught her, wondering what the hell I’d just gotten myself into.

  Chapter 8

  Karma

  I didn’t know where else to go.

  I watched Kasey storm out of my hotel room, well aware that it was a mistake to let him go. But he wanted things I wasn’t sure I could give him.

  I wasn’t proud of my past or of the things I’d done to take care of myself. My mother ... she wasn’t much of a caretaker and she never really cared much about showing me and my brother how to care for ourselves. We had to basically figure it out on our own. My choices were less than honorable. But I survived.

  And now ... I thought I’d left my past behind me five years ago, but it seemed like it was beginning to catch up to me.

  I curled up on my bed, still wearing the button-down shirt Kasey had been wearing this morning. He’d stormed out in nothing but his jeans, leaving behind everything but whatever was in his pockets. It might have been comical if it wasn’t so devastating.

  I pulled the collar of the shirt close to my nose and took a deep breath of his scent. I could smell him on my hands, too, my skin. I could still feel the weight of him on my body, the feel of him inside of me. I closed my eyes and ...

  Had I screwed everything up before it even had a chance to begin? Had I made a mistake?

  I jumped to my feet, determined to make things right. I shed his shirt—almost reluctantly—and dressed quickly, shoving my feet into a pair of tennis shoes just as the door suddenly exploded inward.

  I’d thought he’d gone. I thought I was in the clear.

  He shoved me backward, snagging my wrists and forcing them over my head.

  “What did you tell him?”

  “Nothing!”

  “You must have told him something! He was in here for hours!”

  “I didn’t tell him anything.”

  “Lying bitch!”

  He punched me, his fist slamming into my nose. I saw red, my vision darkening around the edges a little as pain burst through my head. And then he hit me again, but I moved sideways, causing his fist to glance off the side of my head. I pushed upward with everything I had, my arms, my knees, my hips, catching him off guard. He fell sideways, but not completely. And he was so much bigger than me, at least sixty pounds heavier. He shoved hard against my wrists, grinding the bones together as he trapped me against the mattress again.

  “If the cops find me, I will remember who sent them to me.”

  He hit me again, this time on my ribs. I cried out, afraid he’d broken something this time. And he didn’t stop, but continued to rain blows on me over and over again until he’d worked his anger out. Then he shoved my wrists hard against the mattress again before climbing off of me.

  “Be fucking careful, Erin. I’ve told you before, I can’t go to prison. If I do ... let’s just say this will seem like a love tap compared to what will happen next.”

  He walked out, slamming the door so hard that it just bounced against the frame and flew open again. I rolled onto my side, tears that were as much from anger as pain sliding down my face. I couldn’t believe I was still falling for this and allowing him to have power over me!

  Someone came to the door, called out to me, asked if I was okay. Hands were on me, but I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t be touched. I pushed them away and fled the room. I had to get out of there and find a safe place to disappear until I could face my past again.

  That’s how I found myself in Kasey’s arms again.

  He lifted me off my feet, my knight in shining armor, and carried me into the bathroom, his hands gentle as he pressed a cool rag to my bleeding nose. I hadn’t even realized how much it hurt until his hands tried to make it better. I closed my eyes, the familiar pain of violence conflicting with the unfamiliar touch of concern. I waited for
him to ask who’d done this and to demand answers again. I even formulated a response, creating a lie I was sure he would believe.

  But he didn’t ask.

  He bathed my face in cool water and ran his hands over my skull, searching for breaks with an expertise that spoke to a violent life. He tugged at my shirt, hissing under his breath when he revealed the red marks that would very soon be purple and blue. He explored my ribs, his fingers gentle but firm, searching for breaks. It was my turn to hiss when he touched a particularly tender spot.

  “You’ll need bandages,” he said. “And some antiseptic.”

  “No, it’s fine.”

  He studied my face like he wanted to argue, but he didn’t. Instead, he picked me up and carried me to the bed, sitting me on the edge, treating me like I’d broken both my legs rather than just a rib and two. He stepped back and settled into a chair in front of me, leaning forward so that he could study my face. I found myself hoping my nose wasn’t as swollen as it felt.

  “Does this have anything to do with Rosalie?” he finally asked.

  “No. Not really.”

  “Is it no or not really?”

  I shrugged. “Does it matter?”

  “Yes.” He sat up a little, pushing his long hair behind his ear. “You’ve told me enough lies. I think it’s time to tell me the truth.”

  “I haven’t lied to you.”

  Kasey hesitated a moment, a look of utter disbelief on his face. Then he and snatched up his laptop, sitting beside me on the bed. After bringing a page up on the computer, he shoved it into my lap.

  It was my life story, written out for anyone to see.

  “Where did you get this?”

  “I work for a security firm, Karma. This is what we do.”

  I couldn’t believe the details they’d discovered about me. There were things in here that even I’d forgotten about. And suspicions I hadn’t known the cops had. How did they know I was involved in that ring? Did they know any other names? Were they keeping tabs on us all along?

  Was that why he was here?

  I pushed the computer back onto Kasey’s lap and turned away, curling up against his pillows there on the bed. I felt him get up and take the computer back to the table, his eyes on me as he stood and waited for me to say something.

  I didn’t know what to say.

  “Just tell me what you know about Rosalie. That’s all I care about.”

  “Is it?” I brushed the hair out of my face. “You sure went to a lot of trouble to find everything I’ve been trying to put behind me the last five years.”

  “I didn’t ask for that report to hurt you. I only want to know what you’re hiding from me.”

  “Why?” I sat up and looked at him, stared at him. “Do you think I know where Rosalie is? Do you think I’m trying to keep you from finding her?”

  “I don’t know.” He threw his hands up to show me, like a child, that he had nothing. “All I know is that you’re holding something back. And if that something is the one clue I need to find her—”

  “I don’t know where she is! I wish I did, I really do. But I don’t.”

  “Then what do you know?”

  I gestured at his computer. “I know my past has caught up to me twice in the last few months. I know that Rosalie was a pawn in a game she had no knowledge of. And I know that someone I once trusted is probably behind her disappearance.”

  There was a look of satisfaction on Kasey’s face with that last revelation.

  “Then you do know something.”

  “I know that—”

  Someone chose that very moment to begin pounding on the door. I wasn’t sure if I should scream in frustration or laugh in relief. Kasey groaned as he crossed to the door, yanking it open almost as if he expected Rosalie herself to be standing on the other side of that closed door. From the look on his face, I think he might not have been surprised if it was a whole UFO full of aliens standing there, come to introduce themselves to him.

  It was close.

  “Karma?” a familiar voice called. “Is Karma here?”

  Kasey turned to me. I climbed off the bed, wincing again when the pain in my ribs flared with the movement. Willie Mae Watson, her face uncharacteristically flushed, looked as though she might fall over when she spotted me.

  “Oh, I’m so glad you’re here! I’ve been looking for you all over.”

  “What’s going on, Willie Mae?”

  Her eyes grazed briefly over my bruised and swollen face, but whatever she had to tell me was clearly a priority, because she didn’t ask.

  “I was in the woods, setting up for tonight’s investigation. And I ...” She shivered, reaching for my hands. I let her take them and pull me closer to her. “It’s terrible, Karma. I don’t know what they did to her, but it’s terrible!”

  “What are you talking about, Willie Mae?”

  She shook her head, her eyes flashing to Kasey before she moved closer, her lips not far from my ear.

  “They took her, Karma. They took and returned her, but she’s not the same.”

  “Who?”

  “Rosalie.”

  I jerked back, shocked by her words.

  “You saw Rosalie?”

  She nodded. “It’s terrible, Karma.”

  “Where?” Kasey demanded. Willie Mae ignored him, her eyes glued to my face. “Where did you see her?”

  “Karma ...”

  “You have to show us, Willie Mae.”

  She shivered. “I don’t know if I can see it again.”

  “Did you tell anyone else?”

  She shook her head emphatically. “I went straight to find you.”

  I glanced at Kasey. He immediately grabbed his car keys and gestured for us to lead the way. I held Willie Mae’s hand to the car and helped her inside before settling in the back seat behind her. She was nervous, her hands shaking, but I held on to her as Kasey drove quickly through town to the narrow logging road that approached the woods along the back fence of the national park. Willie Mae reluctantly pointed to the track where she’d hiked up to the place where she was investigating the recent UFO phenomenon.

  Everyone had their own unique spot where they searched for clues for whatever reasons they might come to the investigation with. And everyone used different instruments to aid in their investigation. Willie Mae used fairly primitive sound equipment that allowed her to tune her own powers with the residual energy of the aliens. She’d been setting the equipment up in the underbrush near a stand of oak trees when she spotted what had brought her running to me. The fact that she so willingly gave up the location of her private investigative spot told me that whatever she’d seen was truly disturbing.

  Kasey and I left her in the car and made out way into the underbrush, walking cautiously. I didn’t realize Kasey had a gun until I heard the familiar click of him cocking the gun.

  “Do you think that’s necessary?”

  “Did you see how frightened she was?”

  I couldn’t really argue with that logic.

  We found Willie Mae’s equipment fairly easily, but didn’t see anything out of the norm. But then Kasey climbed a stool Willie Mae had been using to hang microphones in a tree and stiffened, a string of curses slipping from his lips in that same southern drawl I’d noticed before.

  “Stay here,” he barked as he jumped down from the stool and headed east. I wasn’t about to just sit there alone and wait for him to go get himself hurt. I raced after him, my heart in my throat.

  I didn’t really understand what it was I was seeing at first. The ground had been altered, the underbrush flattened and torn in places. It formed a shape, not quite a circle, but an oval with one flat side and some sort of V-shape at the top. In the center, a woman was laid out, naked except for a pair of men’s boxer shorts. Her body was covered in ink, the same oval drawn over and over on every inch of skin. Her hair had been coated in some sort of gel-like substance, her face covered with some sort of dark, oily paint.

 
; I’d seen something like this before, but that had been a photograph, a piece of art some sick artist had thought was profound. But this ...

  And then it hit me.

  Rosalie.

  I screamed and ran to her, but Kasey grabbed me before I could enter the oval. Pain shot out from my ribs, pain that wasn’t nearly as the excruciating sorrow and guilt that washed over me as I realized that someone had murdered my friend.

  Rosalie was dead.

  I screamed. And screamed. And screamed.

  Chapter 9

  Kasey

  Cops and investigators swarmed the area like bees swarming a hive. Beat cops had to create a perimeter a couple of thousand yards around the scene in order to keep the townspeople and their eccentric tourists from trampling the area. I answered the same questions over and over, explaining again and again that I’d been out for a late afternoon hike when I stumbled on the body.

  Karma fell apart the moment she saw the body—and I couldn’t blame her. The sight was bizarre, the marks on Rosalie’s body bordering on insane. I couldn’t imagine how long it had taken the killer to do such a thing. Or why he would have taken the time to do it. There were no obvious signs of violence, no marks on her body that were visible through the ink. I’d heard one of the cops say they thought she’d been suffocated.

  I sent Karma back to my motel with Willie Mae and told them to stay put and not talk to anyone. Only after they’d gone did I call the police. And now I’d been sitting here over two hours, answering the same questions, watching the array of expressions on the cops’ faces. Some were shocked, others fascinated. The ones that concerned me, however, were the ones who had no reaction at all. How much did these people have to have seen in order for this to not make some sort of impression on them?

  “Mr. Thomasson,” a man in a suit said as he approached me, “I understand you are the one who called this in.”

  “I am.”

  “I’m Detective Miller. I’ll be heading the investigation here.”