Beg for Mercy (42 page)
Beyond the screening room was another room, one he’d dug out and framed himself. The construction was crude, but it had been the perfect retreat, until today.
The demon roared again and he shoved the rage back. He couldn’t think about it now. Soon, soon. The betraying bitch would be here soon, and he could spill her blood on what should have been an altar of love.
He wiped a shaky hand down his face and laid Talia down on the couch. Maybe he could wake her up, take the edge off….
No. He wanted to do Talia when he had time to linger. Time to do it right.
And she was still too out of it. He wanted her fully conscious, fully aware of what was happening to her. Wanted her to understand with her last breath that no whore was going to fuck up his plans and get away with it.
He wanted Megan to hear her screams fade as the blood poured from her neck.
Talia slumped on the couch across from the TV. The dose he’d given her should keep her out for several hours, but he bound her wrists and ankles with plastic zip ties just to be sure. He didn’t bother with a gag. Nothing could penetrate the soundproof walls.
He stroked the smooth, buttery skin of her cheek. He could already see it yielding to his knife. “Enjoy your rest, Talia. You’re going to need it.”
Megan awoke in tangle of bedsheets. She was disoriented, not quite sure at first where she was and why she was naked.
Then she heard Cole’s voice next to her, felt his bulk shift as he pushed himself up to sit against the pillows. Despite everything, she felt a sudden rush of warmth, savored the feel of how right it was to wake up next to him after a night in his bed.
And still burning this morning was that faint glow of hope, which had slowly come to life over the past few days, clawing its way through the darkness, becoming stronger with every hour she and Cole spent working on Sean’s case.
Hope that the end of the nightmare really was in sight. Hope that Sean really would be set free. Hope that maybe, by some miracle, she and Cole could come out of this and still have a fighting chance.
“That doesn’t sound good.” Cole was on the phone, his tone grim.
Megan struggled to hold on to the flicker of optimism.
“No, I have no idea where either of them would go.”
He listened for a minute, and Megan leaned in, but she couldn’t hear anything on the other side of the conversation.
“Right. I’ll call you if I hear anything.” He set the phone down and ran a hand through sleep-disheveled hair.
He looked over and saw that Megan was awake. “Hey.” His grim expression softened a bit as he leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to her mouth.
Megan kissed him back, holding the real world at bay for a few more seconds. Judging from the look on Cole’s face, reality was about to intrude, big-time.
“That was Slater,” he said, rolling to his feet to pad naked over to his dresser. He pulled on a pair of boxers and a T-shirt and tossed another one to Megan.
“What did she say?” Megan caught the shirt and slipped it on before scooting out of bed.
“Talia missed their appointment,” he said.
“That’s not until… Jesus Christ, it’s already after eleven,” Megan said, shocked when she looked at the clock on Cole’s nightstand. She shouldn’t be surprised, considering when she and Cole had gone to bed. “What happened?”
“Krista waited at her house for over an hour, and Talia and Jack never showed. Never called her either and she can’t reach either of them.”
The faint glow of hope was extinguished. “Their meeting was at nine. Why didn’t she call us earlier?” Megan said as she followed Cole to the kitchen.
“Court.” He grabbed a bag of coffee and filled the carafe of water. The gurgling of the machine filled the kitchen in seconds. “She couldn’t call till she had a break.”
Megan grabbed her phone from her purse and sank into a kitchen chair, her stomach churning. “This is a disaster. We have to find Talia. Without her we don’t have anything.” She scrolled through her missed calls. Nate had called twice, but there was nothing from Sean’s attorney.
“That’s not completely true,” Cole said as he poured two mugs of coffee. He put milk and sugar into one and
set it in front of Megan. “Slater had a lab tech run an analysis on Sean’s knife. They found traces of latex residue.
The mug froze halfway to Megan’s mouth. “That was never in any of the reports.”
“The tech who did the original analysis didn’t include it. It could have happened during analysis or—”
“Or it could have happened if the murderer was wearing latex gloves,” Megan said. “We need to call Brockner and talk to Slater about filing a motion—”
Cole held up his hand, shaking his head in a way that made Megan’s stomach sink all over again. “She already told Brockner, and he’s going to do what he can, but it’s still going to be almost impossible for him to file an appeal without Sean’s consent. And a questionable lab report isn’t going to be enough for Krista to move to reopen the case. She has to have Talia’s statement, and even then—”
“Then why are we doing nothing when she’s already been missing for hours? We have to find her!” Megan’s cup clattered into the sink.
“Wait.” Cole stopped her as she made for the bedroom to find the rest of her clothes. “There’s something else. The police arrested Jimmy Caparulo earlier this morning. They think he’s the Slasher.”
It was time. Long past, and she still hadn’t emerged from the cop’s house. Slut. Acting to the world like she was on some crusade to save her brother, and instead she was fucking the cop who had put Sean in jail.
They’d gone at it for hours. He’d left, disgusted, before they were even finished.
Was she fucking the cop even now? She hadn’t bothered to return his calls. His temper strung tighter with every minute that passed.
He didn’t risk getting out of his car to look. In the dark of early morning, he could stay hidden, but the houses were close together and with the storm blowing, neighbors had stayed home from work. Several were even out in their yards, clearing leaves from drains and warily watching the heavy limbs swaying in the wind.
It was hard to resist the voice saying to hell with the neighbors, to hell with being seen. His life was over anyway. What did he care? He could get in there, kill them both, torture them, and no one would find them until it was too late.
But it would be so much better to wait. He needed her to come to him. Because if he had to take her from the cop, the cop would end up dead.
And he needed Cole to live. For a long, long time. Tortured by the knowledge of Megan’s death and how she’d suffered. Tortured by the knowledge he’d arrested the wrong man, leaving the real killer free to kill and kill and kill.
He knew it was the right plan, but he was running out of patience.
Time to bring Megan out of hiding. He knew the perfect bait.
“Get me the lights this time, okay? The reds shred my throat.” Dev dug a ten-dollar bill out of her pocket and gave it to Amber.
Amber shrugged. “Jesse smokes the reds, but I’ll get
the lights if there’s enough left over.” She ducked in the convenience store before Dev could say anything. It sucked being fourteen and looking her age, at the mercy of everyone else for something as dumb as cigarettes. She pulled the half pack she’d swiped from Aunt Kathy from her coat pocket and lit up. Her lungs seized at the first inhale and she started to choke.
“Fucking menthols,” she wheezed. No wonder they’d been buried in the kitchen junk drawer. Her mom must have left them when she’d visited a couple days ago.
“You know you shouldn’t be doing that, right?”
Dev straightened abruptly at the male voice speaking so close.
She looked up warily, eyes narrowing as she recognized the blond hair and the toothpaste-commercial smile. “It’s not like it’s weed.”
“Devany, right?”
Dev nodded and took another deep inhale, managing not to choke this time.
“I’m—”
“I remember you. You’re Megan’s friend Nate.” She gave him a half smile. He was hot, she supposed, in a totally straight, preppy kind of way. She could see why some women might go for him.
He smiled back, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He was looking at her a little too hard.
“Yeah. Have you talked to her lately? I really need to see her, and I can’t seem to get in touch.”
Devany blew a cloud of smoke in his face. His nostrils flared, but he didn’t flinch.
“I really need to get in touch with her,” he repeated.
“Why?”
“It’s between me and Megan.” His voice was sharp.
So he was pissed at Megan about something. Dev wasn’t about to help him track Megan down, not with that kind of attitude. “I’m not her social planner,” Dev said, cocking a hip as she took another drag.
She hid a smirk as his mouth tightened into a white line. She’d been walking the straight and narrow so long, she’d forgotten how fun it was to fuck with people. And she was getting a weird vibe from Nate, like he was a little too intense about getting ahold of Megan. Something in her gut told her she needed to stall him long enough to give Megan a heads-up.
She flicked her bangs off her forehead and hit him with a smile. “I’m just messing with you. I’m supposed to meet her at home around lunchtime.”
“Good. I can give you a ride.” He reached for her arm.
Crap.
She should have seen that coming. She was getting soft, too comfortable living with Aunt Kathy, leaving her slow on her feet. She backed up a step. “My friend gave me a ride here. I’ll meet you back there.” She’d wait till he left for their empty trailer and call Megan to warn her.
“I insist.” He wrapped his arm around her upper arm.
“Just let me tell my friend.” She tried to get Amber’s attention, but she was too busy trying to convince the clerk to sell her cigarettes without an ID.
She didn’t make a scene as he guided her across the street. He was setting off her Spidey sense, but she was pretty sure he wasn’t going to do anything. Not in broad daylight anyway. Once she got him back to the trailer, she could keep him occupied, buy Megan an hour or two before she got the slip on Nate and could call Megan
to warn her that Nate was pissed at her about something. Megan could decide for herself if she wanted to see him.
Not that Dev expected Megan to refuse. Megan was way too nice. She saw the good side in everyone. No way could she see past the good looks, expensive clothes, and too-nice attitude to recognize that he might not be such a nice guy underneath it all.
Lucky for her she had Devany to look out for her.
Megan’s gasp of shock reverberated through the kitchen. “They think Jimmy’s the Slasher? Why?”
“They found text messages from him on Stephanie’s phone, and when they searched his place, they found the knife, bindings, video equipment, everything.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Megan said, shaking her head. “Jimmy isn’t like that—”
“He’s been arrested for assault, not including what he did to you.”
“I’ve known him for most of my life. I think I’d sense it if he was a cold-blooded killer.”
Damn Megan and her soft heart, always wanting to believe the best about people even when the cold, hard truth was staring her in the face. “The evidence is pretty damn convincing.”
“Evidence can be planted, Cole. You know that as well as I do.”
“Come on, Megan, that stuff only happens on cop shows.”
She shook her head. “Before their fight, Jimmy was
Sean’s closest friend. There’s no way he would frame Sean for murder. He wouldn’t have killed Evangeline—”
“He didn’t,” Cole said softly.
She cocked her head to the side like she hadn’t heard him correctly. “But if Jimmy’s the Slasher and the Slasher killed Evangeline Gordon…”
Cole shook his head. “Jimmy’s alibi for the night Evangeline was murdered checked out, remember?”
Megan shook her head again, grasping. “Someone lied for him, then. We’ll talk to whoever was covering for him.”
Cole put his hands on her shoulders, steadying her. “Jimmy was picked up for a DUI the night of the murder, remember? He spent the night in lockup when his aunt couldn’t come up with the money that night.”
All of the color washed out of Megan’s face. “Oh God, I forgot. So many details…” Her voice trailed off. “This doesn’t make any sense. The Slasher killed those women and he killed Evangeline—”
Cole blew out a frustrated breath. “That was never a foregone conclusion.”
Megan froze, her eyes narrowed on his face. “You still believe Sean did it?” Her lips barely moved as she whispered the question.
“Don’t put words in my mouth,” he snapped. “I believe there’s a connection between the victims we didn’t see until now, but if Jimmy was in jail the night she was murdered…”
Megan shook her head, her lips moving. No sound, but Cole could see her mouth form
no, no, no
over and over.
He curved his hand around her back. “It’s going to be okay.”
“No, it’s not,” Megan yelled. “This has to be a setup.
Don’t you see?” There was a wild look in her eye he didn’t like.
“You have to look at the facts, Megan,” he said, hoping logic would pull her back from the edge. “The evidence against Jimmy Caparulo is hitting hard. We have to consider—”
“The
facts
,” Megan practically spat. “Always with the facts, never willing to believe anything unless it smacks you in the face. You never believed in any of this, did you?”
Cole’s jaw clenched as he absorbed the insult. He pulled his arm from her as though stung, then turned and walked down the hallway to his bedroom before he said something he regretted.
She trailed him down the hall. “You can’t give up on this now, not when we’re so close.”
Cole’s patience snapped. “How the hell can you accuse me of giving up, not believing in you, after the shit you’ve put me through?” he said as he jerked on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. “My career is in the shitter. I even took a goddamned knife for you. I know I can never make up for what happened to Sean, but Jesus Christ, doesn’t that count for something?”
Her face went chalk-white, and he could see her throat working convulsively. Her hand went up imploringly. “You’re right. That was totally unfair. What you’ve done for me, you have no idea—” A sob choked off whatever she was going to say next.
He caught her as she launched herself at him, his heart squeezing at how she felt somehow smaller, frailer in his arms.
“This can’t be it, Cole. I refuse to believe we’ve been chasing down the wrong person all this time.”
Cole stayed silent. She wouldn’t hear any arguments right now.
She pulled out of his arms and started to pace. “Think, Cole. The Slasher was meticulous. It was right there in the files. He thought through everything and never left a trace. Jimmy has a documented drinking problem. He’d been arrested for assault. That’s not a guy with the kind of discipline to pull this off.”
“If that’s true, it will come out in the investigation.”
She stopped and looked at him with huge, pleading eyes. “What if it’s not in time to help Sean? What am I going to do?”
God, he hated seeing her like this, her face pinched with strain when less than twelve hours ago it had glowed with the first rays of hope. “Look, I’ll do everything I can—”
His phone rang and he cursed when he saw Lieutenant Chin’s number on the display. He had no desire to get his ass chewed, but his chances of getting more information about Caparulo’s arrest were better if he tried to play along.
“Petersen tells me you’ve been doing some investigating on the side.”
Shit.
“That’s correct, sir. I was following some leads that connected the Slasher case with Sean Flynn’s case.”
“Petersen says you may have actually come up with something useful. I need you to come down to the station to make a statement.”
“I’d be happy to give Olivia my statement over the phone, sir, but I’m in the middle of something right now—”
“I didn’t make myself clear. You need to make your
statement in person, and bring with you any materials pertinent to the case.”
“Sir, now that you have the suspect in custody, nothing I have is urgent in nature. If we could put this off until tomorrow, or even later this evening?”
After I find out what the hell happened to our key witness
…
“Tasso wants your badge for leaking information. I put my ass on the line for you, and you’re goddamn lucky you got off with just a suspension. But if you don’t have your ass down here in twenty minutes, consider your suspension permanent.”
Dev dropped her wet coat on the floor of the trailer and walked to the refrigerator to grab herself a Coke. “You want one?” she said over her shoulder to Nate, who followed her in and carefully hung his wet coat on the peg by the door. “We have beer, too, or something stronger.” She flashed him what she hoped passed for a flirty smile, calling herself a hundred kinds of moron for letting him get her back here alone.
No big deal. She’d gotten herself out of plenty of jams. She could get away from him, no problem.
“I don’t drink alcohol,” he said as he took a seat on the edge of the worn couch. “But I will have some water.”
She could feel his eyes on her as she filled a glass. Her hands were shaking, making the ice clink against the glass.
She perched on the couch next to him and lit up a cigarette.
“Your parents know you smoke?”
“I don’t live with my parents. And my aunt smokes so much she doesn’t know the difference.” She tried to keep her fingers steady as she flicked ashes into a half-full ashtray. “Does it bother you? Let me guess, you don’t like the taste when you kiss a girl.” She waited for him to blush and look away. Old guys didn’t know what to do when jailbait like her pretended to hit on them.
But he didn’t blush or stammer or any of that.
Her skin crawled as he looked her up and down, taking in her skintight jeans and the tight T-shirt under her coat that showed off her B-cups and a three-inch strip of her bare stomach. His gaze moved back to her face, and what she saw in his eyes scared her, even worse than Davos had scared her the other night when he’d pinned her on the bed and shoved his hand up her skirt.
It wasn’t the lust—she was used to that. It was the split second of something she’d seen in other eyes.
Dev’s blood chilled as she realized she may have seriously underestimated how big of a creep Nate really was.
If this guy jumped, she needed to be ready to bolt.
He drank the water in three gulps and set the glass down on the coffee table. “What time did you say Megan was supposed to meet you here?”
“She should be here soon. Why, am I boring you?”
“Not at all.” There was a dead look in his eyes, and Dev knew in that instant he didn’t believe her story about meeting Megan here.
She didn’t have to fake her shiver. “It’s freezing in here. I’m gonna go get a sweatshirt.”
She could hear her heartbeat thudding in her ears as she ducked into her room. She yanked a hoodie over her
head, then took her cell out of her pocket, swearing when the low battery notice flashed.
Shit. She’d just have to sneak to a friend’s and call Megan from there. She climbed on her bed and slid the window open, freezing at the squeal of metal on metal. No footsteps, so she opened it the rest of the way. Icy rain hit her in the face and wind blew her hair back, but she was grateful for the storm as it muffled the clatter of the screen falling to the ground as she popped it out.
She heaved herself up with her hands and pushed her head and shoulders through the window and braced herself to hit the mud.
She cried out as hard hands seized her hips and dragged her back through the window. Her sweatshirt rode up and her hips and ribs scraped against the hard metal edge of the window frame.
“I don’t think so, little girl.”
Her scream was lost to the howl of wind as Nate flipped her onto her back and pinned her to her bed. One big hand covered her mouth; the other wrapped around her throat. Dev bucked against his weight, but he was too big, too strong.
No, no, no!
She screamed against his hand, but all that came out were muffled whimpers.
Tears streamed down as she stared up into his face. He was freakishly calm as he looked down at her.
He removed the hand from her throat, and before she could even breathe, she felt the cold sting of a knife against her neck. “Now, you are going to call Megan and get her over here, or I will hurt you. Are we clear?”
