Draw Blood

by Cynthia Rayne

  In fact, he hardly looked like a threat, but maybe Ten had built him up over the years. After all, he’d been the monster living under Ten’s proverbial bed for so long. Now Ten was a full grown man, and he’d been trained as a soldier. He wasn’t afraid of anything anymore, especially some pudgy, middle-aged pedophile.

  After hunting down terrorists and arms dealers, Paul wasn’t even a challenge. It had only taken him a few weeks to find his house and the storage shed he now used for his extracurricular activities.

  “My name’s Elijah, or at least it used to be. Does it ring a bell?”

  Paul blinked, and he muttered something against the tape. Obligingly, Ten ripped it off and he gasped in pain.

  “You were sayin’?”

  “No, you’ve got the wrong guy.” He bobbed his head. “I have no idea who you are.”

  “Yes, you do. Don’t even try to weasel your way out of this.”

  “I’m telling you, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “They drummed you out of the pedophile ring, didn’t they? You’ve been lettin’ yourself go ever since, unleashin’ all those dirty impulses you have.”

  “No, I would never—”

  “How many?” Ten crossed his arms over his chest. A dark and twisted sort of pleasure coursed through his body. He drank in Paul’s terror, his helplessness, and it soothed the frightened child locked inside him.

  Paul swallowed. “How many what?”

  “How many boys have you molested? Twenty? Thirty? Do you even remember?”

  He winced. “No, I—”

  “Well, I remember every minute of it, every single second. By the way, I found the latest one.”

  Paul flinched.

  Like Ten, he’d been locked away from the world, only the boy had also been gagged since the shed sat on the far edge of his property. Paul evidently made a decent living, because he had several acres and a nice house.

  And he had a wooded area where he’d buried several boys.

  Ten had located their bodies after he spoke with the boy. Evidently, Paul had escalated since he’d kept Ten as a captive. It wasn’t enough to whip and starve them. Now he’d gotten a taste for the kill.

  Well, he isn’t the only one who enjoys takin’ a life.

  His chin trembled. “No, I can explain...”

  “How? Tell me, what rationale can you possibly give to justify beatin’ and sexually abusin’ children?”

  Paul turned away.

  Ten sighed in disgust. “At least be a man and admit to your crimes.” He watched Paul carefully like an eagle eying its prey. “I set the boy free, and he’s on his way home.”

  And then he began to shake, his entire body shuddering. Ten thought he might piss himself, but it didn’t bother him. By the time he finished with Paul, there’d be all kinds of fluids staining the floor.

  “I bet he’s tellin’ the cops all kinds of interestin’ things about you.”

  Ten had also dug up the boys he’d abused and murdered. He’d laid them out in neat rows, his brothers in arms, for the cops to find. While he couldn’t save them, Ten would make sure Paul paid for his crimes.

  As Ten paced a circle around him, Paul jerked from side to side, trying to keep him in view.

  “You have so many things to lose—a wife, a home. No children though, but I suppose that’s for the best. We both know you wouldn’t have left them alone, but you shouldn’t worry about the fallout.”

  “Why is that?” he whispered.

  Ten pulled out his Bowie knife and ran the blade up and down his denim-clad thigh as though wiping it clean.

  “Dead men don’t have to worry about anythin’.”

  “You don’t have to do this. What if I—”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. I’ve been dreamin’ about this for years.” Ten got down on his haunches, so they were at eye level. “I want to do this.”

  “No, please don’t.” Paul cringed, eyeing the knife.

  He inhaled sharply. “Oh, I love hearin’ you beg. Say it again.”

  “Please don’t hurt me.”

  “Maybe I won’t, if you confess. You do remember me, don’t you?”

  Bowing his head, Paul simply nodded.

  “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  Paul shook his head.

  “Hmm, I used to beg for mercy, in the beginnin’ anyway. And did you show me any?” Ten brought the blade against his fleshy white throat but didn’t break the skin.

  “N-no.” Paul shuddered.

  He was woozy, a little drunk on his own power.

  “Then you’ll get the same compassion you showed me. Who are you? Tell me your name.” Ten glided the knife down the men’s chest, along his thigh, leaving a thin red stripe. “You know exactly what I want to hear.”

  “I’m nobody,” Paul whispered.

  With a grin, Ten stabbed him in the balls.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Polly, I’ve been callin’ you, but you haven’t answered. What’s goin’ on?”

  With a sigh, Aggie hung up the phone. She was getting nervous. When she’d gotten up, she tried getting in touch with Polly once again. Most days Polly got out of bed before sunrise, so she should’ve answered.

  Aggie had called yesterday, trying both the office and her home, but she’d only gotten voice mail. Polly had tried to get in touch, too, but they’d never connected. Only now, they weren’t playing phone tag, and Aggie was the only one calling.

  Something about this picture wasn’t right, and a terrible sense of foreboding settled over her. Aggie told herself she was just rattled by the situation and she shouldn’t read too much into it, but her instincts were screaming at her.

  “What’s wrong?” Ten asked.

  A few minutes ago, he’d walked into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee and feed Smokey a can of food.

  “I haven’t heard from Polly.” She rubbed the back of her neck, trying to calm down, but it wasn’t working. The tips of her fingers were icy cold, and she had trouble catching her breath.

  Aggie had the urge to get in her car and head over to the office. If Polly wasn’t there, she’d try her home.

  He studied her a moment. “You’re worried.”

  “Yes, I think something’s wrong.”

  “Tell you what, let’s pour our coffee into to-go cups, and we’ll head over to check on her. Okay?”

  “Yes, let’s go.” She was out the door in a matter of seconds.

  As soon as he parked the car, Aggie jetted into the office building, taking the stairs two at a time and then rushing down the hallway. Her heart pounded, thudding against her rib cage. When she got to the office door, it was slightly ajar.

  Oh no, please let me be wrong about this.

  With a trembling hand, Aggie pushed the door open, and it made a creaking, wailing sound. She shut her eyes and bargained with any deity who might be listening, to spare Polly’s life.

  And then she found Polly laying on the floor.

  “No!” Aggie howled, a mixture of agony and pure blind rage.

  Polly was on her side with glassy, fixed eyes. One arm reached out toward her cell phone which lay in pieces a few feet away. The screen was shattered as though someone had stomped on it.

  A pool of blood had formed around her body. Not only that, dried blood streaked her neck and shirt. That’s when Aggie noticed a small screwdriver sticking out of her carotid artery. She would’ve bled out in minutes, maybe seconds.

  This was different than her mother’s death. Aggie had been with her, holding her hand. There had been drugs to kill the pain, and there was peace as Melinda had slipped away from life with a sigh. This had been about terror and suffering. Most likely, Polly had died screaming.

  “Damn you!” Aggie shouted, falling to her knees.

  How long had she been lying there like that?

  Someone grasped her arm and Aggie flailed.

  “Shh, it’s me, it’s just me.” Ten pulled Aggie to her f
eet.

  She flung her arms around him, holding him close, snuffling into his shirt. Aggie hadn’t even heard him come in the room.

  “This is all my fault. It should’ve been me. I should be the one who’s dead, not her.” Aggie had no doubt who’d killed Polly, and Santiago would pay for this, one way or another.

  Eventually, Ten released Aggie and then examined the wound.

  “There are marks around her neck, too. It looks as though someone tightened a garrote, cutting off her air. The room is a mess, so she must’ve given him one hell of a fight.” Ten walked around the office, as though reconstructing the crime scene in his own mind.

  She noticed the desk for the first time. It was askew and papers were strewn around the floor. Ten was calm and efficient, and she was grateful he was here. At least one of them was firing on all cylinders. She felt scattered, raw. Every time she tried to focus, her thoughts went winging back to Polly’s body on the floor.

  “My guess is he had to use the screwdriver in a pinch. He’d intended to choke her to death, but she nearly got away from the killer.” He hmphed. “Tough old bird, wasn’t she?”

  Her vision blurred. “Yeah, she was. She’d been retired a few years, and she had so much planned. Polly was gonna go to Europe with her husband. Oh God, Coop! What about Coop?”

  “Tell you what, I’ll have a friend of mine check on him, but I want you to prepare yourself.”

  “You think he’s dead.”

  He sighed. “Most likely.”

  Aggie appreciated his honesty, even though it was brutal. Not one, but two people had been murdered because of her hubris. It was more than she could stand.

  Ten grabbed his cell phone and spoke to somebody named Rebel. Aggie had trouble following the conversation because she was so distracted. She couldn’t stop staring at Polly, and playing every single stupid decision she’d made that led to this situation over and over in a loop.

  “I don’t care what your plans are. Get your ass over there and tell me what’s goin’ on.” Ten glanced at Aggie. “Can you give me her address?”

  She rattled off the street number and name. After relaying the information, he hung up.

  “Who’s Rebel?”

  “Someone I work with, but don’t worry about it. He’ll do exactly what I say and keep his mouth shut.”

  It was probably a fool’s errand. Santiago had told her what would happen and the man was true to his word.

  “This is all my fault. She told me not to take the case, and I did it anyway. It’s almost like I killed Polly myself.”

  “No, it ain’t your fault. Santiago did this, not you. Put the blame where it belongs.” Ten squeezed her hand. “I know this isn’t much, but she’ll be avenged. We’ll see to it.”

  Aggie nodded. It was a cold comfort at best, but at least it was something.

  “Now you’ve gotta make some decisions. Do you wanna call the police and give them a version of events they can handle? Or do you want me to take care of this?”

  “What are you sayin’?” It was hard to hear anything with the guilt and panic swelling inside her.

  “I’m sayin’ this wouldn’t be the first body I’ve made disappear.”

  Aggie knew he didn’t mean to be insensitive. In his own way, Ten was trying to help.

  “No, we gotta call the cops and do everythin’ right by her.” She couldn’t stand to think of Polly being buried in an anonymous grave somewhere, tossed away like an animal.

  Aggie didn’t know what kind of crazy ass story she’d have to tell the police, but she’d figure something out, and she’d better do it right quick. Not that it would do her much good. She had a feeling Frost wouldn’t believe her.

  And then she heard a loud knock.

  Before she could open it, the door was kicked open. “Police! Get your hands up.”

  When she swiveled around, Aggie saw Detective Frost standing in the doorway pointing a gun at her. It’s almost as if she’d summoned him, by thinking about his reaction.

  She lifted her hands and Ten did the same.

  He didn’t seriously think she’d murdered Polly?

  Then again they were both standing around her body, and they hadn’t called the police. She had blood on her jeans, too.

  “How did you know?” Aggie asked, gesturing to the body. They hadn’t called the police, so how did they know about Polly?

  “We’ll get to that eventually. Do you have any weapons?” Frost asked.

  Aggie nodded. “Yeah, I’ve got a gun on my right side, beneath my arm.” There was a deputy with him, and the man reached beneath her jacket and took the gun, before tucking it into his own belt.

  “What about you?” Frost asked, turning to Ten.

  “I’m armed,” Ten said. “You’ll find a pistol in a holster around my ankle, another under my arm, and one more at the small of my back.”

  “You always travel with a personal arsenal?” Frost grabbed the guns one by one, and then handed them off to the deputy.

  Ten smirked. “Yes.”

  “Put your hands behind your back.”

  “You’re arrestin’ us?” Ten asked.

  “Yeah, since you’re both lyin’ your asses off. I’m gonna hold you until we can sort this out.”

  No! What about the auction?

  “Please don’t do this.” Aggie turned beseeching eyes on the detective, even as the deputy cuffed her. “I don’t have time.”

  Frost raised a blond brow. “Why? You gotta be somewhere?”

  Ten shook his head, and she glanced away.

  “No.”

  Frost stood in her line of vision once more. “Are you sure? You seem pretty worked up.”

  “I’m fine.”

  A uniformed officer relayed some information over his radio, and more cops came running down the hall. They knelt by Polly, taking pictures and gathering further evidence.

  Somehow, Aggie doubted they’d find much. Whoever did this had been a professional.

  “Come on, you’re ridin’ with me.” Frost led Aggie out of the room with a hand on her shoulder. Ten was perp-walked down the hall behind her. They were pushed into separate squad cars.

  Aggie couldn’t believe her friend had been murdered and she was being charged with the crime.

  This can’t be happening.

  ***

  “Let’s get this over with,” Ten said to his own reflection.

  Ten sat handcuffed in an interrogation room, and he glared at the two-way mirror. Being tethered brought back a flood of unwanted memories and he ruthlessly shoved them away.

  The entire room was designed to intimidate—the cuffs, a mirror where others could observe him in secret, the door directly behind his back. Ten made it a point to never leave his flank unguarded. Anytime he felt trapped, it triggered his flight or fight response, but he was no longer a scared little boy. Instead, it made him vicious.

  He was already in a foul mood, and he wanted to punish someone for causing Aggie’s anguish. Seeing her distress had wounded him. He still couldn’t understand his connection to her, although Ten didn’t want to fight it. And yet, she did. If he didn’t want her so much, he might’ve been offended.

  “Come on! I ain’t got all day.” He rattled his chains.

  This wasn’t his first time being questioned by the police, and it wouldn’t be the last. It was old hat, so he wasn’t afraid, but Ten was annoyed.

  He had a lot to accomplish before the auction tomorrow, and this nuisance was eating into his schedule. Ten hoped this would go off without a hitch, but he had to prepare for the worst, which required a lot of equipment and some of it wouldn’t be easy to procure.

  Finally, the door slammed open behind him.

  “How are you mixed up in this?” Frost asked, forgoing any pleasantries.

  “Take the cuffs off.” He lifted his hands.

  They’d crossed paths before and didn’t like each other at all. Then again, cops and criminals weren’t supposed to be friendly.
r />   “No.” He sneered. “Why? Do they bother you?”

  “I ain’t mixed up in anythin’.” Ten answered Frost’s first question, instead of the second.

  “Is that right?”

  “Yep.”

  Ten had to play the situation carefully. He had no idea what story Aggie would give the cops, and he didn’t want to contradict her version of events. If the police caught them lying, they could charge them with obstruction of justice, and by then it would be too late to help the girls.

  “You’re what…? An innocent bystander?”

  “I was simply escortin’ a friend of mine to work and we found Polly on the floor.” The lie tripped off his tongue easily. “I don’t know a damn thing.”

  “Escortin’ her? Is Aggie in need of protection?”

  “Why, yes, she is.”

  Frost leaned forward. “From who?”

  He shrugged. “It never hurts to be careful. She’s taken photos of more than one unfaithful husband in a compromisin’ position.”

  Frost swore under his breath. “I ain’t gonna play games with you. We both know you’re a mobster.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, you work with Byron Beauregard and his boys. And I don’t like your kind in this county, but I don’t have any say in the matter. So, until the Feds cart your asses off, I’ll bide my time and accept my limitations. But you need to understand, I’ll do whatever I need to, in order to keep people safe.” His features hardened. “For the last time, will you level with me about what’s going on?”

  Ten jangled the cuffs. “Release me, I’ve told you everythin’ I know.”

  Frost snorted. “If I can’t get anythin’ out of you, I’ll talk to Aggie. Maybe she’ll be more cooperative.”

  I doubt it. “You’re welcome to try.”

  “Anything else you wanna say?”

  Ten sat back in his chair. “I have the right to remain silent, so I’m done yappin’.”

  Frost slammed the door shut behind him when he left.

  ***

  One short car ride later, Aggie was back in the same damn interrogation room.

  They’d placed Ten in a separate one. No doubt the police wanted to question them both and compare stories, which made things a bit difficult. They hadn’t settled on a version of events.