Untied

by Katherine Rhodes

  Garabaldi visibly relaxed and nodded to one of the uniforms. “Log that. Miss Robbe, who is your alarm company?”

  “ADP. Please, Detective!”

  “Saundra Milhouse was found brutally murdered in a hotel room this morning.”

  This time, Cece did throw up. She ran from the front door into the kitchen and managed to make it all the way to the sink before she sicked up. She leaned on the edge for a moment and then called, “You can come in, Detective. Sorry.”

  Garabaldi walked in and motioned for the officers to stay outside. He closed the door and walked into the kitchen. “Gonna be okay?”

  “No.” Cece grabbed a glass to rinse her mouth out. “Not at all. Can you tell me about it?”

  “Dunno. You just puked at the idea of murder.”

  “I puked because I’m imagining that if you wouldn’t tell me, it’s as bad as Everett or worse.” Cece took a drink and swished.

  Garabaldi considered him a moment. “Worse.”

  Cece spit the water out in the sink and began the job of cleaning up. “Jesus. Who has Genie?”

  There was a terrible pregnant pause this time, and Cece hung her head, tears pooling. “Simon, don’t tell me that little girl is dead?”

  “Missing.”

  “Shit.” Cece slammed her hand on the counter. “She’s alive?”

  “She’s with your sister.” He raised an eyebrow. “We found a note in the hotel room, and it was the same handwriting and chopped speech of the one we got for Hannah.”

  Cece calmly turned to him. “You had a note for Hannah?”

  The nod was curt. “We did. We didn’t tell you or your mother at the time. But now it’s more important that you know about them.”

  “So the person who has Hannah and Imogene is at least connected to the murdered.”

  “If not the murderer themselves.”

  “Jesus.”

  Standing up from the wall where he was leaning, Garabaldi sighed. “Get some clothes on. We have to go to the station and get your official statement. Bring your alarm information so we can just confirm that for the records, and we can show you the notes for Hannah and Imogene.”

  Nodding, Cece pointed to the sink. “Let me clean this and I’ll be out in five minutes.”

  * * *

  Cece absolutely hated this cold, white room. She wanted out, and she wanted to go home. She wanted to go talk to Everett’s parents about Imogene. And perhaps talk to Saundra’s parents. Since it was no longer a secret that she and Everett were...paramours?...there was no reason not to talk to them about their grandchild, to offer help.

  If they would accept the help of a dominatrix.

  Saundra. Cece found herself to be more shocked than sad. Saundra had never been nice to her and had never been good for Everett. But no little girl should lose her mother and father so young. The gorgeous little creature was alone now.

  Damn. Another murder. She was haunted again by the images of Everett dead on the bed, catching her breath, and threatening to make her heave again. Tears pooled in her eyes, and she had smeared the tears that didn’t fall out of her eyes.

  What the fuck was going on? Killian’s father, Everett, Saundra, Dina in her own home, the woman—Dana?—nearly raped and murdered behind Downbound.

  How many murders did it take to qualify for a serial murderer?

  “We’re up to five known similar MOs,” Morgan said, walking in. It was almost as if she was reading her mind. “We have a serial killer, and we have no motive. And we have a major, major problem with your alibi.”

  This time, instead of wanting to throw up, Cece was hit with a dizzy spell. “What do you mean?”

  “The alarm company pulled your records.” Morgan slid them across the table. “It shows you turned on the alarm at nine forty-nine p.m., then disarmed again at one in the morning, rearmed a minute later, then disarmed and rearmed an hour and forty minutes later.”

  Cece’s mouth dropped open. “I didn’t! I was asleep! Oh my God, Morgan! I didn’t!”

  “I know you didn’t. I told you I know you’re innocent. Someone is doing everything they can to frame you. They knew we weren’t going to be able to prove you were with John Smith. And now they are arming and disarming your alarm. I suspect remotely or that someone inputted those after the fact.”

  “That’s ridiculous!”

  “No, it’s not. It’s happened to Nick and me. Trust me, it’s completely possible. That’s why I have Stat looking into it. He’s my ace-in-the-hole. He’s computer genius, and I’m having him trace this shit before it can go too far. But it’s going to take him a day or two.”

  “Morgan—”

  Holding up a hand, she cut Cece off before she could complain. “You won’t be staying here.” Morgan sighed. “I had to make a compromise, though. Because of Everett’s murder and now this, your bail is restricted. You’re under house arrest, with permission to go to work. It was the best I could do to keep you out of jail. The judge was persuaded by the fact that even though you broke your bail by leaving, you did come back. You haven’t done anything to prove that you’re a flight risk.”

  “How are we going to prove I didn’t do this? I didn’t do any of this.”

  “We have to find Smith or we have to trust Stat to find someone’s fingerprints all over the alarm system.”

  “Did they dust my touch pad?”

  “Garabaldi has his men out there doing it now, but I’m convinced it was remote.”

  Cece traced circles on the table. “Saundra?”

  Swallowing, Morgan shook her head. “Nick and Paul were there this morning. It’s...horrible. Worse than Everett and worse than Dina. She was bleed out like Everett and apparently that wasn’t enough. They strangled her.”

  Cece started. “Imogene is gone...do you think that she saw this? Do you think the murderer made her watch?”

  Morgan frowned. “Shit. I hadn’t even thought about that.”

  “Do you have any clue where she is? She and Hannah?”

  “Did Garabaldi show you the notes?”

  “No, not yet.”

  Before they could continue, the door was pulled open, and another one of the detectives walked in. “We’re not holding you any longer. We have your statement, and we have your house under surveillance for now. We’re not going to be inconspicuous about following you around, Ms. Robbe. We’re not concerned about you fleeing; we’re concerned with you being hurt. Please, whatever you do, don’t do anything that’s outside your normal routine.” He placed a piece of paper on the table. “These are the places that you’re allowed to go. Work, home, food store. The gas station near your house. You are allowed to go to the lawyer’s office as long as you inform your council you’re coming.”

  “Detective, we’ll be heading straight there now.” Morgan stood and took the paper. “And if Detective Garabaldi needs to speak with us, we’ll be there until later this afternoon.”

  He nodded and held the door open. Cece followed Morgan out of the interrogation room. Walking through the station was becoming too familiar, and the looks that followed her were either accusatory or sympathetic. And she didn’t really want either. She wanted to go back to being Cece Robbe during the day and Dusty Rose Milan on the weekends.

  She wanted Saundra alive and Everett back. She wanted Dina to show up for work at The Grange and for John Smith to be a distraction and not a key to her freedom. But she made it out the door and to the car without being noticed by the press that had been around lately. It could have been that they hadn’t picked up on Saundra’s murder.

  Saundra was dead.

  Cece got hit with another dizzy spell and fell into the seat of Morgan’s car. Morgan ran around to her side. “Are you okay?”

  “No. I’m not. Saundra Millhouse is dead. Murdered. By the same person who killed her husband. Probably by the same person who killed Dina and Killian’s father.”

  “I know, I agree.” Morgan motioned to her, looking up the hill a little bit. “Get in
, let’s get out of here. Before those press hounds see you.”

  Pulling her legs in, Cece let her close the door. Morgan slid into her driver’s seat and pulled them away from the curb as fast as she could. “Cece, are you seeing a doctor? A therapist of some kind?”

  “No, not at all.”

  “You should be.” Morgan merged onto the highway to get to the lawyer’s office. “You should be asking someone to help you walk through this.”

  “How can I when most people think I’m guilty?”

  “Doctor client privilege. You’re not guilty, and no matter what, they can’t talk to anyone about what you say in session. Think about it. We’ll find you someone who will specialize in the kind off issues you’re dealing with.”

  “Morgan, should I be more upset about Saundra being murdered? I mean, I’m upset. Of course. But mostly for her daughter. I didn’t know her, and what I did know of her...”

  “You heard from her ex-husband.” Shaking her head, Morgan glanced at her. “I can’t honestly answer that. I’m not a therapist. I can tell you that if I were in your shoes, I would probably feel exactly the same as you. The woman was a terror to her husband and it wasn’t fair. To him or to their daughter. It took his death to make her give up the iron fist she had on Imogene and let Everett’s parents have access to her. I can’t really tell you how to react to this, but I can tell you that I would feel the same.”

  Cece slumped in the chair. “Thank you. And thank you for believing me and fighting for me.”

  “That’s what friends do.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Killian paced the office, waiting for Cece and Morgan. Franz had tried to tell him to stay home, as did Morgan and Paul, but he wasn’t having that bullshit.

  Someone was trying to frame her for the murders, and he was going to be there with her to squash this whole thing.

  “You’re sure you want to bring her here?” Franz asked.

  “She knows something,” Killian answered, staring out the window at downtown.

  “Diane is a moron.”

  Killian turned around. “Yeah, I thought so too. I still think so. But she knows something. She’s in cahoots with someone. That’s how the tracking software got on my phone. She wasn’t innovative enough to come up with that on her own. I think someone is helping her get what she wants.”

  “What does she want?” Franz smirked.

  “You can go ahead and think this is funny all you want, Dorn, but she actually tried to coerce me into sex in my own apartment. She tried to fucking rape me. She was proposing a business arrangement, and she wanted it to start right then and there. I don’t take well to women trying to coerce me.”

  Franz looked at him. “And you just kicked her out?”

  “I had to threaten her to get her out, and she threatened me right back.”

  “Threatened you how?”

  “I believe her words were, ‘I’ll make sure you that you go down like Everett.’”

  Franz, Paul, and Robert turned to stare at him. Robert stepped forward and considered him. “Are you saying you didn’t tell anyone that she threatened you like that?”

  Killian shook his head. “No. I didn’t. I didn’t know if she was playing or not. Now I think that she knows something since Saundra is gone and Imogene is missing.”

  Robert shook his head. “We’re trying to get Cece out of the spotlight, Killian. Anything and everything should be examined. Just like Morgan has Stathopolous checking out the possibility of a remote dump to her alarm. And if you were with her last night, speak up. Now. We need to get this out of the way so we can work on who is really killing these people.”

  Killian shook his head. “I was not with her. I wish I were now.”

  The door banged open, loudly. Emmy stood there, her arm extended, holding the door back from slamming closed again. “Get your ass inside, Diane. Now. I’m not even in the mood for this.”

  Diane’s huff was loud enough to be heard in Wheeling, West Virginia, but she walked into the room and folded her arms. “I don’t know where the fuck you get off telling me what to do. You drag me out of bed and—”

  “Shut it. Now.” Emmy’s tone was not to be trifled with.

  Diane’s jaw snapped shut, but the look on her face was one of sheer loathing. She looked around the room as Emmy slammed the door, and her gaze landed on Killian. The snake’s smile slid onto her lips and she took a few steps toward him.

  “Stop.” He didn’t even pretend that he wasn’t using the same Dom voice Emmy had just used on Diane. “Don’t come near me. I don’t want anything to do with you.”

  “You brought me here, didn’t you?” Her steps slowed but didn’t stop.

  “What did I just say?”

  “This is a ruse. You’ve got them all here so we can work out our contract.”

  “I said stop!” The words were snapped off and finally managed to halt her progress. “I just haven’t had a chance to get a restraining order for you. Stay away.”

  She honestly looked lost for words, staring at him across the room. She fish-mouthed a few times but couldn’t seem to find the words. Robert pulled a chair out at the table and motioned her to sit. Reluctantly, she did. Diane’s usual confidence withered under the gaze of three very powerful Doms, and Killian took a perverse pleasure in her discomfort. He folded his arms, as Emmy and Franz did the same. Diane’s look bounced between the three of them and the dark, brooding form of Paul, finally deciding to just sit quietly in the chair until Robert sat across from her.

  “Ms. Hamburg, it’s my understanding that you have threatened Doctor McInnis with the same death that both Everett Millhouse and now his wife Saundra have met.”

  “Ex-wife,” she said.

  Paul slammed his hand on the table. “You’re going to nit-pick syntax when Saundra Millhouse lies dead in my fucking morgue? And her daughter is missing?”

  “Wait.” Diane sat up. “What did you say?”

  “Saundra Millhouse is dead.” Paul walked to the table and loomed over her. “It’s likely the same person who murdered Everett. They also have Imogene; kidnapped at the same time.”

  Diane started trembling and wracking sobs shook her whole body. “Saundra is dead?!”

  Franz, Emmy, and Killian backed off, while Robert and Paul closed in to handle the situation. Killian didn’t want to overwhelm her anymore. Robert seemed to be the best balm for her; he didn’t appear as a threat. Killian attributed that to his submissive tendencies and let it ride. Paul was quietly telling her what they had found that morning.

  And what the police had found horrifying. Her parents had gotten worried when she didn’t show up for Sunday breakfast and went to check on her. There was no sign of her at the house, but there was a ransom note for Imogene. They instantly called the police, and at nearly the same time the police were answering a call at a local hotel. The call was for a deceased woman, and the reports had matched the reports for Dina and Everett. Paul had been called in, and he had shared the photos with them just to verify what he had seen.

  What he had seen was...disgusting. It was hard to look at because it reminded Killian of his father’s death and Everett’s death. The room was covered in her blood, words smeared into them like the others. Saundra was, like Everett, exsanguinated, bled at the femoral arteries, which meant she went quickly. But bruises and broken bones and other marks indicated it had not been quick or pleasant. She had been choked repeatedly, and lacerations indicated repeated rape. But there was no semen and no bodily fluid obvious, so Paul was in the midst of his job trying to find microscopic evidence.

  Killian’s suspicion that Diane was a pawn was confirmed when she started crying at the news that her friend had been brutally murdered. There was no one who could fake the shakes she was having.

  “Kay, she’s hyperventilating.” Paul motioned him over.

  Killian walked over and pulled the chair away from the table, carefully and calmly. He took over Paul’s seat and pushed Diane’s head b
etween her knees. “Diane. Breathe. I want you to take a very deep breath and let it out slowly. That’s it, that’s it. Slowly, inhale slowly.”

  Diane followed his instructions, and she managed to get her breathing under control. She turned her head to look up at him, her face soaked with tears.

  “It wasn’t meant to be a real threat, Kay. I swear. I swear. I was so upset you were really turning me down.”

  “Stop. Breathe. And I want you to tell us what you know. Saundra is dead now and if you know anything…”

  Diane shook her head. “I don’t, I don’t. I swear. The letters are unsigned and they ramble, but they tell me over and over that if I need someone out of my life—”

  “Letters?” Paul stepped forward, his medical examiner persona in full force. “You have letters?”

  “Three of them.”

  Paul had his phone out and was dialing already. “Emmy, you’re going to need to take her home so that you can meet Garabaldi and Dunham at her house. We’re going to need those letters and a good forensic handwriting specialist. And if you have the envelopes?”

  Diane nodded.

  “Hallelujah, we might be able to get a DNA sample.”

  Diane turned to Killian and grabbed his collar. “I only wanted to make Daddy happy. Don’t let him kill me, Kay. Don’t let him kill me.”

  Killian nodded Emmy over, and she helped Diane to stand, walking her to the door. Kay stared after her until the two women disappeared. He turned to Paul, and they chorused.

  “He?”

  “I heard that too,” Robert offered. “She knows more than she’s telling, and now I’m afraid she’s going to be the next target or utterly refuse to speak to us. We have got to clear Cece so we can concentrate on this.”

  Killian nodded. “She’s likely to turn her opinion and willingness to help on a dime. I don’t trust her as far as I could throw her.”

  “Christ, I hope Cece doesn’t step out of the same elevator,” Franz mused, just as there was a huge shriek and band from down the hall. “I see you should have thought of that earlier.”