Broken Bonds Boxed Set 1-3 (30 page)

Quinn runs a hand through his hair and groans. “It’s the only way to cover every angle without giving up our leads.” His gaze is hard on her, and I can see the understanding in her eyes as it hits.

Her connection to all of this is already in question. The less people who know about it, the better for her. “I’ll go,” I say. “I’ll go wherever and do whatever if it helps. But I’m not being used to setup my brother.” I give Carson a menacing glare.

Carson scoffs. “Still protecting him, huh?”

“You’re a fucking idiot. You know that, right?” I step toward him, but Quinn pushes between us.

“Knock that shit off. We don’t have time for vendettas, Carson. Just work the fucking leads.” He slaps a packet against Carson’s chest. “I want the surveillance at The Lair scoured. Anyone on those top levels that doesn’t belong, that doesn’t have access, I want that footage. And I want the whereabouts of those two members you flagged logged and questioned, Colton.” He glances from me to Sadie. “Bonds said the UNSUB might’ve been at the club last night. Prove it. Get me a fucking clear image of this bastard.”

“Detective Quinn?” Carson says, drawing Quinn’s full attention. “I worked this case for a long time. I have suggestions on the profile that doesn’t match with what Agent Bonds is suggesting.”

Running a hand down his face, Quinn sighs. Then he waves his hand, prompting Carson on.

Carson straightens his back. “Agent Bonds wants to keep communication open with the UNSUB. But according to her own profile, this is feeding his narcissistic supply. It’s empowering him. We should shut down all communication with him.”

Sadie and I share a look. We know exactly what happens when the UNSUB loses contact with her, and right now—with Sadie’s friend at his mercy; as much as I want to agree with Carson and stop this sick fuck from contacting Sadie—that can’t happen.

“We can’t get a trace on him, anyway,” Carson continues. “He’s only using it for recognition. He won’t hurt Avery without an audience, right? And by supplying him with a direct link to this department, we’re giving him that audience.”

Sadie turns to Quinn, completely dismissing Carson. I let a smile slip.

“In theory, he’s right. But in this instance? He’s utterly wrong. The hostility the UNSUB exudes when he’s ignored suggests he’ll retaliate. He may have no plans to kill Avery…he could only want to bait me…but we could trigger an explosive reaction that endangers Avery if we kill communication.”

With a nod, Quinn says, “I agree. We’re not doing anything to jeopardize Avery.”

Carson crosses his arms. “All right. Then me and rope boy are bringing in Julian as soon as possible. That’s one way to knock a suspect off the list for sure.”

My jaw ticks as I grit my teeth. This new desire to defend my brother is disturbing. I’ve spent so long loathing him; I feel I’m the only one allowed the right to make accusations against him.

“If that’s the only way to eliminate him as a suspect,” I say. “Then I’ll find him. If he’s here at the station, then he’s not anywhere else.”

A tight smile pulls at Sadie’s lips. “Colton needs a phone. Something to stay in contact with us at all times since the techs confiscated his.”

As Quinn beckons a tech over to get Sadie’s request underway, I link my fingers through hers and pull her close. “This is for you,” I whisper. “I don’t give a damn about Julian.”

She frowns. “I know. But clearing him will also clear any connection Carson is trying to pin on you.” She kisses my cheek. The feel of her soft lips on my skin sparks a fiery pang in my chest.

“Promise me,” I say to her.

Her features fall.

“Promise me you’re only using it as a tactic. That you won’t actually try to meet this sadistic fuck on your own.”

With hesitation, she nods. “I promise that I won’t…not right now. He’s not falling for it anyway. There’s too much coverage and surveillance. He can’t chance giving himself away like this.”

I release a breath. “Be safe.”

“You, too. Anything you uncover, send it here. You and I will go over it.”

Her implication is clear: we’re the main targets, and we have to stay ahead of everyone else.

I turn toward Quinn with a warning ready on my tongue, but he says, “You don’t have to say it. I won’t let anything happen to her.”

“I know.” I stare him straight on, letting my eyes speak for me.
If anything happens to her, I’ll end you.
Then I say to Carson, “Lead the way, detective.”

He scoffs. “Fucking hell. If you end up being the UNSUB, I will kill you dead.”

I raise my eyebrows at him. “Ditto.”

P
ressure builds behind my eyes
, around my forehead, at my temples. It’s the physical manifestation of the weight bearing down on me—the pressure to connect all the pieces and save Avery.

I glance down at my phone, check the time. I imagine I can hear the ticking of the clock counting down the hours. The minutes. The
seconds
. But it’s all in my head. Right there with the mounting pressure.

I hit my office quickly to change into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt I had stashed there. Quinn thought it’d be a good idea to change, get comfortable for the long day ahead of us. It’s almost as if I can’t think for myself. I
hate
this feeling. Completely disoriented. It’s like…if I can just uncover one clue, just pinpoint the abduction site, then I can connect the rest of this puzzle.

And so that’s where we start. With the clock ticking, Quinn and I begin at the one place we know Avery always to be. Her lab.

“What is the last communication you had with her?” Quinn asks as he sets up the standing UV lamp. He brought his laptop with us and is conducting the search and comparison against the department while I attempt to determine the abduction site.

You would think that an M.E.’s lab—being equipped with every type of forensic equipment at the ready—would be the perfect environment to mount an investigation. It’s the exact opposite, however. As Quinn switches on the lamp, the light illuminates a massive amount of substances. From the blood of previous victims, to every other conceivable body fluid.

I close my eyes for a second as the pressure nearly doubles me over.

Shaking off the forming headache, I say, “I spoke with her the night before last. Right here.”

“About?” At my sigh, he adds, “Sadie. We have to do this. You know we have to go over every detail.”

“I know.” Taking a look around, I let my gaze scan the room, seeking anything out of place. It’s like a clustered science fair maze. I was terrible at science. “I asked her for a favor. I needed a workup on some rope. She said she’d make it her first priority.”

Quinn adjusts his forensic glasses. “A comparison for Colton. To clear him.”

“Yes, Quinn. To clear him…or to damn him. I always pursue the truth.”

“Hey,” he says, pausing his task to meet my eyes. “I’m not judging you. I would’ve done the same in your position.”

I let a wan smile steal across my face. “Anyway. I don’t think she had time to look into it.” I pull the letter from my back pocket. “Her assistant gave me this yesterday.” I unfold the note. “Sadie, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to complete your request. I’ve come down with something, but I promise to work on it as soon as possible. Trust your gut…until I can get you some answers. Avery.”

“What time was the letter delivered to you? By who?”

“A lab tech…Simon. Right before I left the station yesterday morning.” I press my fingers against the bridge of my nose. “Presumably, she wrote it the night before…or very early in the morning.” I slip on a pair of glasses. “She did tell me she wasn’t feeling well when we last spoke.”

Quinn braces his hands behind his head, going into his deep thinking mode. “So she writes a note with instructions for it to get to you before she heads home. That doesn’t sound like Avery. Even if she was ill, why not just call you?”

I shake my head. “She was working late that night. Maybe she left it at the lab because it was too late to call, and she didn’t want to be bothered the next day.”

“Why not text?”

I tilt my head. “What are you getting at? I can see Avery writing a letter. She’s pretty old-school. Not more so than you, but she appreciates the simpler times.” I inwardly smile, remembering her fussing over a computer error one day in the lab.

“All right,” Quinn says. “If that checks out, then she had to be abducted shortly afterward. I think we should head to her house and help CSU conduct the search.”

I scan the letter again, looking for any signs that she wrote it under duress. “I took her advice,” I say as I spread the note out on the table. “She’s the only one in her field who would ever say such a thing. ‘Trust your gut.’” I shake my head and almost laugh. Then I glance at Quinn. “Well, maybe except for you.”

He squeezes out a tight smile. “Forensics doesn’t leave much in the way of trusting your instincts. It’s all about the facts.”

“Right. And she is the best.” I angle the letter to catch the UV light. “If she was on to something, it makes sense the UNSUB would want to stop her. It’s the only reason—other than to hurt me—I can think of as to why he took her.”

The light sets off fingerprints—presumably Avery’s—on the note. I take the bi-chromatic powder from my kit and dust the prints, then lift them carefully with tape.

“You really think he was bold enough to abduct her here rather than her home.”

Placing the tape on a card, I mark the evidence and then repeat the process with another print. “Do I think he’s bold enough? Yes. And it makes sense. He wanted me kept away from the department the night I watched over my mother. I thought then it was because he didn’t want me to interfere with Colton’s interrogation. But maybe it was more than that. Maybe he had Avery in his sights all along.”

The truth of that kills. I should’ve warned her. How many people in my life is he planning to torture? With that thought comes an abundance of guilt. So much so that I’m having a difficult time taking in an even breath.

“I’ve put two of my best on keeping a lookout over your mother,” Quinn says, as if he’s mentally tapping into my thoughts. I’m probably completely transparent. Unable to mask anything at this point.

“Thank you.” I swallow hard as I lift the last print. “I’m sure these are Avery’s, but I don’t want to leave any piece of evidence out of the investigation.” I place the cards on Avery’s worktable. “We should hurry. The techs need to get back in here so they can keep working on what Avery—”

I cut myself off as it comes to me. “What was Avery last working on? I mean, besides what I asked for.” I look around, trying to deduce her methodology. It’s tidy and neat…but in a way that probably only makes sense to Avery.

“The last time I heard from her, she called me about the third vic. She was working on a physical profile of the UNSUB based on the strength needed to hoist a body. We planned to run through it with a computer program to simulate the crime scene.”

Her computer.

Everyone in the lab has access to the same files, but Avery has her own, tightly guarded notes. I remove my glasses and pull up a chair, then tap the keyboard, awakening the screen.

While I log in under my ID and search through Avery’s files, Quinn says, “She could’ve been abducted at any point from here to her home. So far, CSU hasn’t uncovered anything at her house. We should broaden the search.” He moves toward the wall lockers, inspecting the fingerprints. “Everyone has been in this lab at some point. If the UNSUB did find a way in here, it’s like searching for a damn needle in a haystack for evidence.”

“He’s intelligent. He would’ve used forensic countermeasures to remove any evidence. But he’s not perfect, Quinn. This abduction was hasty. If he was here, right under the department’s nose, even someone with a god complex is cautious enough to be quick about it.”

“For Avery’s sake, I hope you’re right.” Quinn resumes his search.

“We know the UNSUB deviated greatly from his MO in order to abduct Avery,” I say, flipping through each file on the victims. “We know the vic—” I break off, irritated with myself for referring to Avery as a victim. “We know the target personally this time. So he couldn’t perform his ritual at her home. That changes everything. We have to come at this from a completely different angle. It has to have greater meaning for him in order for him to pull a switch at this point. And that means he still could’ve left us something either at her house, or here, or wherever he abducted her from. Something to mark his territory.” I release a strenuous breath as I locate Avery’s current notes on the third vic. “He’s too vain to pass up an opportunity to show us how clever he is. He needs to brag.”

“But if it was a spur of the moment attack rather than planned out, that could mean we’re wasting our time looking for a clue,” Quinn says. “Besides, there are no signs of a struggle here.” Quinn turns around and focuses the light on the ceiling-mounted body hangers near the autopsy tables. “Wait.”

I look up. Quinn tilts his head as he examines the white straps of one of the hangers with a gloved hands. “What is it?”

“I’m not sure.” He motions me over. “Stand in front here.”

I glance at the screen again before I meet him in the middle of the lab, where he positions me in front of the hanger.

“You’re smaller than Avery, but it should still line up fairly the same.” He raises my arms and mimics wrapping the strap around one of my wrists. “There’s no need to restrain a body here…since they’re all pretty compliant, considering they’re dead.”

“Not funny, Quinn.”

“I’m not trying to be.” His eyes meet mine. “The straps are twisted and look here—” he brings one forward and points to a tear. “I’m no lab tech, but I highly doubt anyone would need to secure a dead body this tightly in a hanger.”

I glance around, frantic. “There.” I point to a scalpel on the worktable. He grabs the tool and moves me in front of the second hanger. Before he even begins to reenact the scene, my heart is pounding in my ears.

“We’ll try this out here so we don’t add trace to the other hanger,” he says as he secures my wrist with the strap.

A few weeks ago, this scenario would’ve decimated me. The feel of the strap tightening around my wrist floods me with panic, but it’s not my fear. It’s the realization that Avery experienced this—it’s her terror leveling me, the dread of what she must’ve suffered.

Even still, the situation causes my arms to tremble. Quinn isn’t Colton—the only man I’ve ever trusted to restrain me. As the straps begin to constrict my movement, I flinch away, knocking Quinn’s chin with my elbow.

He groans and backs away, cupping his jaw.

“Oh shit—sorry.”

He curses and works out his jaw. “Nice elbow, Bonds. Right in my tooth.”

“Jesus, Quinn. You still haven’t seen a dentist?”

He shakes off the pain and rights himself. “With what time?” A determined glint lights his eyes as he steps closer. “Try not to punch me, okay?” He finishes tying off the straps, then looks over the restraints. “This isn’t right.”

He drops his hands with a huff. “Avery’s a fighter. She would’ve screamed. She would’ve struggled, not stood here like this, just letting him tie her up.”

“She was drugged,” I say, envisioning the scene. “Like I said, he had to veer from his MO. If she was sedated, he could easily subdue her.”

Quinn must agree, because he moves behind me and wraps his arm around my waist. “He’d have to hold her in place.” I let my body go lax, trying and failing not to picture Avery in my place. I shut my eyes. Breathe through the horror of it.

As he gets my other wrist bound, he grunts as he reaches for one of the scalpels on the table. He pushes the tool through the strap, securing it closely against my wrist. He does the same thing to my other arm. His hard chest holds me up as I lean against him. He turns one of my wrists toward him. “The size of the hole in the strap matches. The UNSUB restrained her right in her own lab, the motherfucker. How did CSU miss this?”

“That’s a good question,” I say, wriggling my wrist free. “But there’s an even more obvious one we need to be asking.” I free my other wrist and start toward the computer. “The UNSUB is meticulous. Everything planned, every detail covered. But instead of using his own tools, restraining her with his own rope, he used what was handy to him at the time.”

Quinn’s face contorts in a stern frown. “As if he was already close. Already in the building. And abducting Avery
was
a spur of the moment choice. Dammit.”

“Exactly.” I tap the mouse pad and open Avery’s most recent file. “And, instead of abducting her quickly, he restrained her here. There was something here he wanted.”

He removes his glasses. “You were right, Bonds. Avery was on to something. She was in his way.” Quinn paces the length of the room as he takes out his phone and calls in the update. “We need to block off the M.E. lab. Get this place yellow taped and order in a full sweep. This time, focusing on a captive situation.”

As he ends the call, I look up and say, “Quinn, I don’t trust anyone to go through the evidence here. We need to figure out what’s missing—if anything—before the team comes in for another sweep.”

“Hell. That could take damn near all day, if not longer.” He moves to stand beside me and points to the screen. “What were her last notes?”

I shake my head. “You said she was going to work with you on the third vic scenario. But her recent entry is on the last vic. Her theories and tests on exsanguination.” I run through her notes, looking at the timestamps. “Shit.”

Quinn catches on quickly. “He deleted files.”

“We need a tech to go through the metadata.”

Quinn turns the keyboard toward him. “No time.” He scans the evidence logs, looking for anything checked out by Avery. When that doesn’t produce results, he clicks open the server and proceeds to pull up logs for the past two days.

“How do you know how to do this? You’re the last person I’d assume to be computer savvy.”

A smile twitches at his mouth. “I’m full of surprises, Bonds.” He looks over and winks before returning to his search. “Bingo. It’s not a full record, but it’s enough. Her last entry was on evidence identifier three-oh-one.” He pulls up the chain of custody files and locates the item information. “The rope recovered at the third crime scene on the suspended vic.”

I’m out of the seat and searching the evidence lockers for the rope.

Quinn puts in a call to the evidence room in the station. “Who signed it out? When?” His gaze follows me around the room. “Okay, thanks.”

“Let me guess. It was already signed out by Avery,” I say, shutting the locker.

“Yeah.”

“The rope isn’t here. Neither is the sample I gave her.” I press my hands to my forehead, trying to push away the growing ache. “Avery had him. She found his mistake. She had to—and it cost her.” I steeple my fingers over my mouth, thinking. “Who else would have access to her notes? The whole lab? Someone else has to know what she found.”