As he’d known they would, his words got an instant reaction.
“How? By having sex? Not freaking likely.” Scorn dripped from her voice. He found himself feeling faint admiration, while summoning up outrage. Typical male, he told himself, act like a typical male, not like one who saw the truth in every icy word.
“Chicken,” he taunted, using his eyes to try and tell her not to take anything he said seriously.
“Maybe I am.” She shrugged. “But then again, so are you. I’m going to take a shower. Watch my phone.” She gave him a polite little smile as she said it, but her smile didn’t entirely reach her eyes.
“Feiney hasn’t called in a while,” he said, conscious of the ever-present camera, hoping to provoke the serial killer into doing exactly that.
“True.” Though she continued smiling, worry darkened her eyes. “He won’t know I’m in the shower,” she lied. “But you’d better answer, just in case he does. It might be interesting to let you talk to him this time.”
Interesting didn’t even begin to describe it.
Barely two minutes after the bathroom door closed and the shower started up, Lea’s cell phone rang.
Bingo. Which meant Feiney had not only been watching, but the bastard actually wanted to talk to Marc.
He picked it up, glancing at the caller ID. Unknown. Of course. “Hello.”
Silence.
“I didn’t take you for a coward,” Marc said, hoping to goad him into speaking. “Getting tired?”
Feiney laughed, the guttural sound sending a chill up Marc’s spine. His was the mad laughter one often heard around Halloween, in a cheesy haunted house, straight from a B-grade horror flick. In other words, the laughter of a madman.
But they’d already known that, right?
He steeled himself to hear what the man had to say.
“You screwed up.”
Marc kept his tone conversational. “How so, Feiney?”
“There are so many ways I couldn’t even begin to list them all.”
“Starting with not being able to capture you yet, right?” Marc decided to play along. Then, just as insurance, he continued. “But we found your little cameras. Score one for my team.”
He waited to see if Feiney would acknowledge the one they’d let stay.
“You only found the cameras because I told the woman I was watching her.” Uh-oh. The woman. Not Lea. Which meant Feiney was objectifying her. Most serial killers did this when they killed.
Marc decided to use her name. “You mean Lea?”
“Yeah, that bitch.” Feiney spat the words. “She’s mine.”
Saying nothing, Marc waited.
“You’re screwing her, aren’t you?”
Aware Feiney was most likely also watching him on camera, Marc dragged his hand through his hair. “None of your business.”
“It is my business,” Feiney roared. “She is my business.”
“The woman?” Marc said it this way as a test. He hoped Feiney would say Lea’s name.
Instead, Feiney shouted one word into the phone. “Mine.”
For a second, Marc held his breath, thinking Feiney was about to hang up on him. But then he heard another sound, a familiar voice that froze his blood.
“Lea? Dear God, don’t let him hurt you, Lea. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be—”
Lea’s mother. Marc reeled back, nearly fumbling the phone.
“You hear that?” Feiney sounded gleeful. “The bitch wouldn’t trade with me before, but I bet she will now. Her for her mother. She has one hour to decide, or the old bat dies.”
Then came the audible click of Feiney disconnecting the call.
Still clutching the phone, Marc heard the sound of the shower cutting off. In a few minutes, Lea was going to come through that door and he would have to tell her what had to be one of her worst nightmares. He’d have to tell her that her mother had been captured by the monster.
Chapter 12
Lea emerged from the bathroom on a cloud of peach-scented steam. With her face scrubbed free of makeup and her hair in a towel turban, she looked all of twenty—beautiful and innocent and calm.
The instant she saw his face, her relaxed expression vanished.
“He called?”
Marc nodded, holding up a finger. Then, before he said another word, he went into the kitchen and grabbed the terra-cotta vase on top of the refrigerator. “I hope you’re not too attached to this,” he said. Not waiting for her response, he strode to the doorway, leaned over the landing and heaved the container toward the Dumpster. When it hit the pavement below, it shattered.
Returning to the apartment, he jerked his chin toward the door. “The camera’s gone now.”
She stood in the exact same spot, watching him. “I take it our masquerade got a reaction?”
Uncomfortable, he scratched the back of his head. “Yeah. Lea, he’s got your mother.”
“No, he doesn’t,” she responded instantly. “He’s messing with you. I’ll call her right now and you’ll see. He’s lying.”
“Sugar, he put her on the phone.”
Recoiling, she gasped. “No.”
“I’m sorry.” Intending to offer comfort, he reached for her. She evaded him easily, the wary look in her eyes frightening him more than the rage had.
“Why? What’s he want with my mother?” Though she asked, Marc knew she already had the answer. When she let loose with a long string of curses strong enough to make a sailor blush, he knew she was just venting.
“I’ll kill the lunatic.” Raising her head, she met his gaze. The wariness, the frenzy had all morphed into a flat deadness. “He’d better not touch one hair on my mother’s head, you understand?”
“I do, but Lea, you need to calm down. He’s given us one hour. We’ve got to come up with a plan.”
“One hour?” She snapped her head up. “One hour for what?”
He didn’t want to tell her, but he had no choice. “To decide if you’re willing to trade. Yourself for your mother.”
As he’d known she would, she nodded immediately. “I don’t need an hour. All he needs to tell me is when and where.”
“Hold on.” He thought furiously, trying to find the right words to make her think logically. “If we’re not careful—”
“Screw careful.”
He grabbed her, giving her a quick shake. “Listen to me. Please. If we make a wrong move he’ll capture you and then make you watch him kill your mother. She’ll die anyway. I know you don’t want that.”
He watched the light of battle leave her eyes. “You’re right,” she said slowly. “Then you’ve got to help me come up with a plan.”
As she spoke, her cell phone started ringing.
“Feiney,” she said, meeting Marc’s gaze. “It hasn’t even been half an hour. Why’s he calling back?”
“Who knows? To torment you? Answer it,” he urged, hating the resurgence of tension the call had brought to her face. The sooner they caught this bastard, the better. “But be careful. Stay in control.”
Nodding, Lea answered, barely getting out a quick hello before falling silent. Feiney seemed to be doing all the talking. She simply listened, her jaw tensing more and more.
When she finally closed the phone, she looked at Marc and slowly shook her head. “He didn’t want to talk about the trade, or my mother. Mostly, he wanted to vent. He was astounded you found that last camera. And he’s furious.” Her flat tone spoke of her own vehemence. “He didn’t like you touching me or any of that. He says I belong to him. That I’m his fiancée and I’m cheating on him.” She shuddered. “I can’t tell you how much that creeps me out.”
Marc nodded as though calm, though his insides were anything but. “Did he let you talk to your mom?”
He could see her visibly collecting herself. Finally, she swallowed. “No. He mentioned her in passing. Then, after he finished cursing at me, he said he’s got a new directive for us.”
“A directive?”
/> “Orders, whatever.” She laughed, a humorless sound. “He’ll discuss the trade later. But first, he wants us to jump through hoops.”
“He’s—”
“Playing with us,” she snarled. “I know that. We’ve got to get his location. I’m beginning to believe you’re right. He has no intention of releasing my mother.”
Part of him wanted to accept her words at face value. The other part thought her capitulation sounded a little too pat.
What was she up to?
He told himself it was his imagination. Had to be. Lea Cordasic was no fool.
“I hate that sick bastard,” she muttered. “The thought of him touching my mother…”
He wanted to reach out to her, to offer what little comfort he could. Instead, he kept his hands at his sides and nodded. “We’ll get her out safe.”
“Damn straight we will.” She gave him a dark look. “Feiney read me a poem he claims to have written.” Though she struggled to keep her voice expressionless, a trace of her revulsion bled through.
“I’m his soul mate, we’re meant for each other, blah, blah, blah. I honestly think he believes we’re meant to be together. As if I’d ever really marry him.” She cringed. “Blech.”
Then, while he watched, she straightened her shoulders. “Let’s get to work, Kenyon,” she said briskly. The disgust so clear in her face a moment ago slowly transformed to what he thought of as her professional FBI agent, buttoned-up expression.
The Tarrant County sheriff part of him approved. The rest of him wanted simply to pull her into his arms and hold her while she cried.
“I hate that he’s doing this. No.” She held up her hand. “Why me, Marc? Of all the women he kidnapped and killed, why did he let me live?”
He suspected she might ask that question a lot, especially since she’d been freed. Survivors often did, wondering what was so special about them that they’d lived while others had died. Survivor’s guilt.
“He’s emotionally involved, Lea. He believes you belong to him. He views our supposed relationship as wrong, as if I’m trespassing on his personal property.”
Slowly, she nodded again. When she met his gaze, her own was cool and remote. “This is the kind of reaction you expected, right?”
“Hell, I didn’t really think he’d go after your mother.”
Briefly closing her eyes, she looked down. “I tried to warn her. I told her to get out of town, but she wouldn’t listen.” She released a quaking breath. “Now I’m going to have to call my brothers and tell them Feiney’s got her. They’re going to kill me.”
Then she raised her head, determination showing in her eyes. “They’ll both rush here, though. Come hell or high water. Dominic and Sebastian are good at what they do. Dom used to be a hostage negotiator and Seb was special ops.” A dark shadow crossed her face. “They’ll rush in, no holds barred, trying to rescue her. They’ll get her killed.”
From what he’d heard of her brothers, he doubted they’d do anything so foolish and said so. “You’ve got to tell them.”
“No, I don’t. There’s not enough time. I’ll take care of it myself.” Again, he approved of her calmness, though he couldn’t help but worry about how remote she appeared.
“Ourselves,” he corrected. “We’ll take care of it ourselves.”
Again, she gave him that distant stare. Terror, rage and something else lurked in the back of her expressive hazel eyes. He understood the fear and anger, but didn’t understand the other feeling. Again, he got the sense that she was holding out on him. That she wanted him to think that they were still a team, moving forward in the right direction, while she carried out plans of her own.
“What are you not telling me?” he asked, his look daring her to lie to his face. His blood went cold at the stark look in her eyes. “Don’t even think about hiding something from me. Explain.”
She swallowed and then, raising her chin, began to recite the words. “To punish us, he says he’s going to start cutting on her. One finger for each hour we make him wait for what he wants.” The horror in her voice matched his.
“Damn it,” Marc cursed. “He didn’t say anything like that to me. All he mentioned was a trade.”
“I’m guessing he wants to expedite things.” She held up her hand.
Here it came. “What do you mean?”
“When he said an hour to decide, he meant before he started cutting. But if I do what he wants before an hour has passed, he won’t touch her.”
He said the first thing that came to mind. “I don’t like this. At all. He’s still toying with us. He’s setting a trap.”
“Possibly.” She didn’t sound too concerned. “Either way, what choice do we have? We have to try to save her.”
“Letting him kill you won’t do your mother any good.”
Lifting her chin, she met his gaze straight on. “We have no choice, and he knows it. If he’s telling the truth and we don’t do what he wants, she’s dead.”
And there she had him. As law-enforcement officials, they really had no options. Unless they could utilize the team. Maybe he could figure out a way. Though Lea wouldn’t like it, Marc knew he’d do whatever he could to catch Feiney and keep her safe. The time deadline was the biggest obstacle.
“Let’s hear the particulars. How does he want to make the swap?”
“Before I get to that, there’s more. He doesn’t want to trade me for my mom within an hour—he’s leading up to that.”
It bothered him that she didn’t answer his question. For their careers as peace officers, they both understood classic avoidance tactics. Still, because he was curious to hear what else Feiney wanted, Marc followed her lead.
“I’ll bite. What else does he want?”
“More media coverage, for one. He’s written a letter to the media and wants me to read it on the air. He’s requesting all major networks carry it.”
Which he’d get. Serial killers, especially ones with hostages, were big news. Feiney didn’t even have to ask for this.
Which meant she was still holding back, keeping something else from him. Something big. “That’s it? Media coverage is a given and he knows it. You’re holding back on me. Give me the rest of it.”
She took a deep breath, then motioned him over. When he was right in front of her, she whispered in his ear. “He wants you dead.”
“What?”
“He wants me to kill you.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere.” He cocked his head. “Why are you whispering? Feiney can’t see or hear us. I destroyed the remaining camera.”
“That’s just it. That camera you destroyed wasn’t the only one left behind.”
“It has to be. Stan said that team was one of the best.”
Turning a slow circle in the room, she waited until she faced him again to continue. “Marc, I have to believe him when he says he’s got another camera. The team must have missed it. It happens.” Still she sounded strangely unconcerned. “Bottom line—he’s watching us now.”
All at once, Feiney’s plan fell into place.
A second later, Lea confirmed it. “He says he’ll come get me and leave my mother in trade, but only once he’s watched me kill you.”
His blood ran cold. “What are you going to do?”
“I have no clue,” she said, her eyes glassy. “But I can’t let my mother die.”
“We’ll figure something out.” Cupping her chin in his hands, he searched her face. “This is our chance to finally capture the SOB. We’ll get your mother out safely.”
“I wish I could believe that.”
Her phone chirped—a text message. Without changing expression, she read directly from the screen. “Feiney says I have thirty minutes.”
Which meant they had to think fast. “Come on.” He clasped her hand. “Outside.”
Where Feiney couldn’t hear.
Closing the door behind them, he turned to her. “We can make this work. If we set it up right—”
&n
bsp; “First off, I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t have the landing here bugged, too.”
“Lea, he’s not all powerful.”
“Maybe not, but it sure feels that way.”
“You know he’s lying.” Wearily, he dragged his hand across his eyes. “He just wants to humiliate you, to teach you—and me—a lesson. He knows you won’t kill me. Therefore, he won’t do the trade. Nor will he let himself be captured so easily.”
“You’re saying he’s going to kill my mother no matter what I do.”
While he couldn’t let her give up hope, she no longer sounded rational. “It’s a distinct possibility.”
Devastated, she crossed her arms and looked away.
Furious at the impossible position Feiney had put them in, Marc began to pace. The small landing outside her apartment didn’t have enough room and for the first time, he understood her love of running.
“He’s toying with us,” he reiterated, squinting at her. “Did you ever study profiling?”
This got a startled look. “No.”
“Well, this is classic. He’s offering up a pretend scenario he knows we can’t take.”
“So he can make himself feel vindicated when he kills my mother?” she asked.
“Maybe.” This stopped him short. “Did he ever need validation before?”
“No.” She thought for a moment. “At least, not that I know of. Of course, during the time he held me prisoner, he used me as his sounding board.”
“Seeking your approval.”
“Which I never gave.” She sounded horrified. A moment later, she nodded. “I never thought about it, but I guess you could be right. In a way I suppose he was trying to impress me.” She shivered. “As if.”
“I’m sorry. I know how difficult this must be for you.” Crossing to her, he took her arm. “But Lea, you’re the key. Right now, you’ve become Feiney’s motivating force. We’ve got to figure out a way to force him to play his hand.”
“Poker analogies?” For a moment, she stared at him, saying nothing else. Finally, she looked away. When he moved forward, she let him lead her downstairs, keeping pace easily with his longer stride. Mulling over his words.
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