Cece took careful, measured steps up the hall, hoping someone would notice she was gone. Her throat closed up, and she wanted to scream. She could feel all the panic rising, terror freezing every thought process in her brain.
This was the serial killer. This was the man who had been killing people in Pittsburgh for well over two years. He had his gun in her back—and there was no way he was going to let her live. She was going to end up gutted and bled like Everett.
Everything stilled.
Everett.
He did not deserve to die at the hands of this coward.
No one did. Angus McInnis, Dina Argerolous, Everett Millhouse, Susan Millhouse.
No one deserved to suffer at the hand of this maniac.
Casey Lind, Hannah, Imogene…
…who knew how many he’d killed. Tortured. Raped. Left for dead.
She would not let anyone be the victim again. This would end with her. She might not get out of this alive, but she would not go down without a fight. And she would make sure that he was going down too.
She would be his last victim. No matter what it took.
The calm was almost terrifying. Almost. Cece embraced the empty, controlled hate that filled her. He didn’t know who he was fucking with. He didn’t know what she was capable of. But he had given her what she needed: the dead space of hate. The cold, calculated logic of a killer.
He was dead. He just didn’t know it.
Never faltering, Cece headed for the doors. She didn’t know what was waiting for her. But she went through the crimes in her head. Each of them had suffered badly at the end. They were usually away from home, so he would take her elsewhere. He would probably try to intimidate her. He would definitely hurt her long before he started to.bleed her dry
Plenty of chances to kick him while he was down.
“Are you the serial killer?” Cece asked as they passed through the door.
“Such a horrible misnomer.”
Holy shit, that voice. Cece knew that voice. He’d been disguising it until that moment. It almost crumbled her resolve to make this the end.
“I’d prefer to be called the angel of mercy.”
“You son of a bitch.”
The cold steel pressed hard into her back. “Careful, Sis. Now you’re insulting Mother.”
“It’s been you?”
“Shut up. Move. Get out the door, get in the car. No small talk and no stalling.”
Cece complied.
Somehow, in some part of her mind, she’d known the killer’s identity wouldn’t shock her. A gut feeling, or what not. But that it was her own brother didn’t really surprise her. The guy was a full-blown asshole. Smirking, she couldn’t even find a time in her life where she thought he was decent. He’d always been an asshole to her. He’d always been one of those perverse, disgusting people. His attitude toward her was part of why she had been out of control as a kid. She had to do something to get noticed.
He shoved her out the door, into the dark at the waiting car. “Get in.” He yanked the door open and pushed.
Cece compiled, finally looking her brother in the face. “Why? Why did you kill them?”
“They were perverse. They violated the moral code.”
“For all the yelling you do about church, I’m shocked you’re not telling me they went against God.”
He laughed, hard, then leaned into her face. “No, Frances. No. Satan wanted them. So I gave them to him.” He grabbed her hand and slapped a handcuff on one wrist and then quickly on the other. “How tight do you like your restraints, slut?”
“Yeah, never heard that one before.”
The door slammed and Cece had just seconds. “Killian, if you can hear me, it’s Chas. Chas is the murderer. Find me if you can; he and I will probably both be dead. I love you.”
The door popped open on the other side and Chas climbed in. “You revel in that kinky shit, Cece. I never understood it.”
Cece snapped her head around. “Never under—what? How long have you known?”
“Please. Gordon was all proud of his taking you in hand.”
There was a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. “What did you do to Donny?”
“Nothing less than he deserved.” He pulled away from the spot the car had been idling.
Cece nearly threw up. “Why, Chas? Forget all the rhetoric and bullshit. Why are you killing these people? They aren’t doing anyone harm. Everett was innocent.”
His fist slammed into the side of her head, knocking her into the window. “Everett was a fucking pervert fucking a pervert. There was nothing innocent about him. You neither, dear sister. I’ve watched you let yourself drop further and further down into kink and perversion. And I’m going to stop your slide.”
“My bedroom habits harm no one.”
He slapped her hard. She hadn’t really recovered from the first hit and this built on it. “That is bullshit. You tie people and fuck them. Random strangers. You’ll spread your legs for anyone!”
Cece snorted. “I’m not going to argue with you, Chas. You never liked me from the day I was born. You’d never bother to learn about the lifestyle. So I’m not arguing.”
“Because I’m right.”
“Because you’re dead fucking wrong.”
“You should have just married Paul and shut your hole. Now we’re going to have to figure out how to keep our family alive.”
“I hope you all die and rot in hell.”
He laughed. “I’ll meet you there. You and your father.”
“Oh please. Daddy doesn’t give a shit about me. Or you. Or Hannah. He’s a fucking drunk.”
“Well, we’ll find out when they find him and Donny. Assuming they’re still alive.”
Cece stared straight ahead. Her father has always been a drunk. He’d never bothered to participate in the family. But the idea that Chas would kill him for something… “What did you do to Daddy?”
Patting her cheek, he smiled the nastiest, cruelest smile she’d ever seen drip from his lips. “Wouldn’t you like to know. But don’t worry. You and Dad will be together soon enough. Soon enough.”
* * *
“Got all that?” Killian asked quietly.
“Yeah.” Garabaldi nodded, holding his phone to record the speaker of Killian’s. “I need to call the station. Do you know this Donny guy?”
“Gordon. Gordon Stilton. He’s a Dom at Sadique House and the butler at the Robbes’ house.”
“Keep recording.” Garabaldi grabbed the phone off the end table in the room. Garabaldi had the phone to his ear and was speaking in low tones so as not to overrun the information coming through the phone. Killian saw Hannah’s terrified face watching and listening to everything that was going on.
He’s going to kill her. She mouthed the words. Killian wanted to shake his head and reassure her, but he couldn’t. He wasn’t sure they were going to get to her fast enough.
He didn’t want to listen while his girlfriend was murdered.
He snorted. Such a small thought, a simple pedantic word, and his heart seized. Girlfriend. His someday fiancée. His wife one day. And if they didn’t do something, he would have no chance to shower her with everything she deserved.
Garabaldi slammed the phone down. “McInnis, you know her number, right?” Killian nodded. “Good. Hannah, I have Detective Rauch and Officer Fawkes on their way up to take over the phones. Can you hang on that long, listening to them? He’ll be here in five minutes.”
Hannah nodded. “Yes.”
“Good. Killian, give her the phones. We have to get going now, the trace is hot and we have a direction to head in.”
“What about my dad?” Hannah’s lip trembled.
“We have him upstairs.” Killian smiled at her. “He’s why I was here. They found him and I helped put him back together.”
“Thank you.” She took the phones from him. “Please go save my sister.”
Chapter Eighteen
Cece didn’t like that C
has didn’t blindfold her. She could see where they were going, and it was eating her up she couldn’t yell directions at the phone in her purse.
Chas kept driving. It was a winding, backward trek, probably designed to throw anyone off, but Cece had lived here all her life and knew exactly where they were.
She wasn’t shocked when they pulled up to an old abandoned house on a decrepit road near one of the old coal mines that had been shuttered since the ‘80s. The house had electric wires going to a box, but the meter had been ripped out.
Cece looked around. The house was innocuous, surrounded by the sweet colors of late spring. There was nothing threatening about it. If a cop came this way, there was no way that they would do anything to a squatter they might find inside.
The Bilco doors on the side were new. They were painted to look old and weather beaten, but it was clear to her they weren’t a year old.
That was Chas’ den. Those doors ran a chill up her spine. Her brother was a serial killer. He murdered people for some reason she would never understand. There were probably bodies all over the woods around the house and pieces of those missing lives spread throughout the house.
He rolled the car to a stop. Dropping it into park, he popped the door open and walked around to her side. He motioned her out of the seat, toward those very doors.
“Go.” He yanked her in close. “Be good, and you’ll die quickly. No pain.”
Cece turned her head slowly and let a slightly insane smile slide onto her face. “Now that’s no incentive, brother dear. You seem to forget that your whore sister likes pain.”
He slapped her, as hard as he could, and Cece moaned. It did actually hurt, but every ounce of discomfort she could cause him was worth it.
“You fucking freak.” He shoved her away from him. There was a small rush of satisfaction through her as she clutched her purse and stumbled toward the doors. She wondered if the phone was still on, or if it had lost the signal. She kind of hoped it was out of range and hung up. She didn’t want Killian to hear what she was going to have to do.
Chas pulled the doors, and Cece walked down without prompting or hesitation. She was going to do this right. Go out with a bang and a takedown.
And she nearly made it.
The light kicked on and the world spun around her. The same RED jumped out at her as it had when she found Everett’s lifeless body. It wasn’t everywhere this time. It was a slow steady drip into a massive puddle on the ground, from a body on the bed in the damp, dark basement.
The body there groaned, and the head lolled to the side.
She screamed, “Donny!”
Cece ran over to him tied on the bed, spread eagle. She couldn’t see where the blood was coming from, just that it was dripping steadily. His normally light olive skin had a pale, deathly color. At the sound of her voice he cracked his eyes open and gave her a weak smile.
“Dusty Rose. Am I hallucinating?”
“No, Donny. It’s me.”
“I’m dying.”
“Donny, how the fuck did you end up here?”
The Bilco doors slammed with a deafening clang, blocking the outside light. Her eyes and ears took a moment to adjust, but she heard Chas laughing. “Yes, Donny. How did you get here? Tell your little whore student why you’re being bled to death through your asshole.”
Cece whirled and managed to get right into Chas’ face. “Let me loose, you dickhead.”
“I am not an idiot, Cece.”
“I’m not leaving here. Not until I drag you to hell. I promise you that.”
Chas stared at her for a long, hard moment, then fished out the key. He unfastened the cuffs, and Cece dropped them on the floor. Turning, she rushed back to Donny.
“No heroics, Cece.” Chas’ tone was chastising. “He needs to die.”
“By bleeding out his ass?”
Chas laughed, long and cruel. “Go ahead, Donny. Tell her why. Tell her why I’m letting you die by bleeding you out through your ass.” He laughed again and leaned against the doorway.
Donny’s eyes were apologetic. “I’m sorry, Cece. Your father never wanted you to know.” His words were soft and he had a hard time drawing a breath. “I’m in love with your dad. Chas caught us.”
Cece fell onto her heels. “What?”
“Your father is gay. We’ve been having an affair. He was going dry. I was going to leave Sadique.”
“My…father… is gay?” Cece’s mind was not processing this.
Donny rolled his head to stare at the ceiling. “It’s why he drank.”
“Roger Robbe.”
The little breath that Donny let out Cece assumed to be a snort of sardonic laughter. “He always knew. He drank to deal with hiding.”
Cece’s world rocked more in that moment than realizing her brother was a killer. So much in their lives made sense now—his drinking, his disinterest in Marjorie, his reluctance to divorce her, his rolling over the family to Chas.
“My father is gay.”
“Was.”
Cece looked at her brother standing there. “What have you done?”
Chas walked in close and breathed into her face. “I stabbed him. In every major organ. Twice.” He stood up straight and looked at his watch. “He should just about be dead now.”
Cece couldn’t make herself say anything. God, if her father was gay, if he was in love with Donny, if he was drying out…she could save their family. Even if their family was only her, Hannah and Roger. Even if…the chance to have the man she remembered as a little girl back…
“Oh, Dusty…” Donny’s voice was so wistful.
Before she could do or say anything, there was a tremendous bang and clatter by the stairs. The door yanked open and a body was flung down them, followed by a familiar silhouette.
Cece leapt up and ran for the barely moving figure at the bottom of the stairs. The light was just enough to see who it was.
“Diane?”
This was too much.
Diane looked up, and Cece gasped. She was bruised and beaten. There were half closed cuts all over her face, and the fall down the stairs seemed like the end of what she could handle.
“I told you to leave her upstairs!” Chas marched over and snatched the woman off the ground. “She doesn’t come down here.”
“Your plaything was trying to get out the front door.”
Oh my God. No.
Cece’s brain seized. She forced herself to turn and look up the stairs at the figure standing there. She knew the voice. She knew it too well.
Step by step, the figure descended into the cellar, eventually showing her face in the light of the few naked bulbs strung around the room.
“Mother?”
“I don’t care if she was trying to get out. She won’t get far. She has no survival skills. She wants me, so she’d be back anyway.” Chas squeezed Diane’s cheeks. “Isn’t that right, gorgeous? You’re mine. And soon enough, you’ll grow fat with my child.”
Holy shit. He raped her. There was no mystery why she looked as defeated as she did.
“Chas, why did you let the little bitch out?” Marjorie Robbe walked the last few steps to where Cece knelt on the ground. She looked down at her daughter and grabbed her hair, pulled her head back. “This has been the bane of my existence since her birth. I told you I wanted her dead.”
Chas sidled over and wrapped an arm around his mother’s waist. “And I told you, she’s going to die slowly and in agony. Just the way Everett did, just the way Angus did, and just the way Oliver did.” He pulled her in close.
And that’s when everything slammed together and Cece understood everything that had happened:
Chas slanted a penetrating kiss across Marjorie’s mouth.
They were fucking.
Her mother and her brother were having full out incestuous, consensual sex with each other.
Cece vomited.
* * *
Cece stared at her mother standing across the room, whispering with her
son. They were playfully flirting, and she had probably lost everything she was going to vomit in the last two rounds, but she sure wanted to empty her stomach again.
“I knew Uncle Oliver was murdered,” she finally spoke from her seat next to Donny. “I didn’t realize you’d killed him.”
Chas walked away from Marjorie and toward her. “Of course I did. He had to die. When he threatened to take Hannah away from Mother, it was the last straw. No one takes a child from their mother.”
Cece looked at her mother, standing with her arms folded and a cocked him. “So it was consensual fucking?”
Marjorie clucked. “Such a mouth on you.”
“At least I haven’t wrapped it around my son’s dick.”
Marjorie charged, but Chas caught her arm. “I told you. No. No matter what she said.” He turned to Cece. “Uncle Oliver didn’t like that Mother had moved on from him. He wanted to keep her all to himself. But she was over him. He was old.”
“He was impotent. And why would I want to deal with Viagra and dick pumps when I had a perfectly good dick right here?” She patted Chas’ fly.
“You are perfectly disgusting.” Cece shook her head. “So, Hannah…?”
“Hannah was a mistake. A miscalculation on my part.”
“No, I know that. You’ve always said that. I mean, she’s yours and Uncle Oliver’s.”
“Of course. With your faggot father? I was lucky to have either of you. I’m sure he thought all about the dick he wanted when he knocked me up both times.”
Cece put a hand over her eyes.
Donny hissed next to her. “He loves you both so much, Cece. Don’t doubt that.”
She grabbed Donny’s hand and squeezed lightly.
“So, you were putting up a front with Diane?”
“Diane loves getting laid.” Chas laughed. “She begs for my dick every day. Don’t you, Diane?”
Diane turned away from him, and Chas laughed. His laugh was starting to sound unhinged. Which was probably some kind of record considering how long he’d been batshit insane.
“What are you going to do with her?” Cece might not’ve liked Diane, but the idea of letting her suffer at the hands of these two maniacs was far more repugnant.
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