Dead Don't Lie (23 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

M
ARCUS
’
S
PHONE
RANG
. His heart lurched.
Evelyn.
He reached for it, glanced at the number and frowned. He didn’t recognize it.

“Special Agent Moretti.”

“Agent Moretti, this is Detective Josh Sanderson.”

Marcus sat up. Why was he calling? And how the hell had Sanderson gotten his number? “What can I do for—”

“Listen. A call just came over the radio that there’s an officer down at 2141 Seventh Avenue West. With a request for immediate backup.”

“That’s Evelyn’s place.” Marcus jumped up from his chair. His stomach dropped. The blood roared in his ears and pounded against his head “Who’s down?”

“Officer Findley. He’s been shot.”

“Is Fin okay?”

“Yes. His vest took the brunt of the bullet. The kid’s just rattled.”

Marcus leaned his hand against the table and squeezed his eyes shut. The throbbing in his skull subsided. Just a fraction.
Evelyn was okay. How else had the call come in?
He glanced up and jerked his head toward Derek. Marcus snapped his fingers, then pointed to his vest.

“Shit.” Derek threw Marcus his vest, pulled one over his head and checked his gun. In all of five seconds.

“I’m en route now,” Sanderson continued. He hesitated a moment, then added, “But there’s more, sir.”

Sir?
Marcus chest constricted. That couldn’t be good. What more could Sanderson possibly say? “Spit it out, Sanderson.”

“Evelyn is missing.”

Marcus’s throat tightened. He couldn’t breathe.
Missing?

“Fin found her forty-five abandoned in the house. I’m sorry, sir.”

They both knew. A cop never abandoned a weapon unless under distress.

“I’ll meet you there in ten.” Marcus hung up, shrugged into his vest. His hands shook. Every muscle in his body tightened. His head spun.
Evelyn was missing.
The blood in his veins froze and his heart turned to ice.

“What’s going on?”

Marcus reached for his jacket, refusing to look at his brother. If he spoke, he’d lose it.
Evelyn was missing.
He knew he shouldn’t have let her out of his sight, let alone leave the building.
Damn it.
He grabbed his spare gun, tucked it into the back holster and moved toward the door. He’d never forgive himself if anything happened to her. He shook his head.
No. He’d find her.

Derek grabbed his brother’s arm. “Marcus, what the hell is going on?”

“It’s Evelyn. Fin was shot. She’s gone.” Marcus shook off Derek and marched into the bull pen.

Derek swore and followed Marcus through the door.

Marcus and Kessler made it to the bull pen at the same time.

“Take the lead on this, Moretti,” Kessler said, face set. “Bring Evelyn home.”

Marcus nodded, then turned to the mass chaos and whistled. All movement stopped. Every eye bore into him.

“Listen up,” Kessler said. “Agent Moretti is no stranger here. I’ve asked him to take lead on this. Anything he says, goes.”

He looked at Marcus, then stepped aside.

Marcus swallowed the rage and fear. He stared back at faces that surely mirrored his own inner struggle. He took a deep breath. “We don’t have a lot of information right now. What we do have is sketchy at best. I need a list of all the residents on Seventh Avenue and the streets that block it in. You know how this works. The clock has started. Saddle up, people. Someone had to have seen something. Let’s get our girl back.”

* * *

S
IRENS
BLASTING
,
LIGHTS
FLASHING
, Marcus pushed the accelerator to the floor, prayed they wouldn’t have to bury another one of their own. Panic rushed him.
I can’t lose her. Not now.

Turning onto her street, he slammed on the brakes, tires squealing, and spun the wheel. Hard. His car skidded into the driveway. He threw it into Park and jumped out before Derek could say anything. Sanderson stood on Evelyn’s porch, arms folded. Benjamin Findley sat on the stairs. He held a hand to his chest, his face pale.

Marcus tipped his head toward Sanderson and they exchanged a silent acknowledgment. Sanderson headed toward the arriving squad cars. Marcus turned and squatted in front of the young officer. “Fin, you okay?”

“Yes, sir.” Fin blinked slowly, patting his chest and wincing. “Thank God for Kevlar. I’ll have a hell of a bruise. But no cracked ribs.”

“Good to hear.” Marcus put his hand on Fin’s shoulder and squeezed. Derek joined them and leaned against the porch railing. “This is Agent Derek Moretti. He’s a profiler with the behavioral science unit and a brilliant criminal psychologist. He’s consulting on this case, as well. Tell us what happened.”

Fin shook his head. “I thought we were going to Starbucks, but when Detective Davis blew past the exit, I knew something was up. She refused to tell me why, but insisted on coming here. Even pulled the rank card.”

Derek chuckled. Marcus threw him a hot glare. Derek cleared his throat, looking abashed.

“When we got here, I told her that I didn’t care if she outranked me, I would clear the house before she entered.”

“Good man,” Derek said.

“Go on.”

“I cleared both floors. She went upstairs and told me to stay downstairs. The front door was still open, but I heard something in the back. I went to check on it, and when I turned, a man stood there.”

“Did you get a look at him?”

Fin shook his head. His shoulders sagged. “He had on a baseball cap and glasses. You’d think I’d remember something, but the prick shot me point-blank in the chest and the force knocked me out. I’m sorry, Agent Moretti. I don’t remember anything.”

* * *

T
HEIR
TEAM
CANVASSED
the neighborhood. Derek and Marcus took the homes sharing property lines with Evelyn’s house. Blood thundered in Marcus’s ears after leaving the fourth home with nothing. He clenched his fist.
Someone had to have seen something.

They walked up to the last home. Derek knocked on the front door and stepped back. “How you holding up?”

“I can’t lose her, man.”

“You won’t.”

Derek reached over, knocked on the door again, louder. The door swung open. A tall muscular man answered.

“Yeah?”

“I’m Special Agent Derek Moretti, and this is Special Agent Marcus Moretti. Is Craig Meyer available?”

The man frowned. “No, afraid not. He’s ill, in bed. Doctor’s orders.”

He extended his hand and gripped Marcus’s in a tight handshake. “I’m Ed Meyer, his grandson. Can I help with something?”

“Did you notice anything next door in the past hour? Any disturbance?”

He looked up and away, as if trying to remember. He squinted his eyes, then shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t help you, Agent Moretti. I was out getting medical supplies. When I got back, I didn’t notice anything aside from that kid sitting on Evelyn’s porch. Sorry I couldn’t be of more assistance.”

Marcus swallowed the disappointment that washed over him. He reached into his coat pocket, pulled out his card and handed it to the guy. “If you notice anything or remember anything else, please call me immediately.”

“Of course, Officer.” Ed closed the door.

Derek clasped Marcus on the shoulder. “We’ll find her.”

“Can you promise that?”

Derek didn’t respond. They both knew he couldn’t.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so.” Marcus headed toward his car. “Let’s get back. We’re done here.”

Back at the precinct, angry, concerned eyes stared at him as he approached the group of officers. “Listen up, folks. Our first sweep didn’t yield anything. But we aren’t rolling over. The lab is making this top priority. So everything gets copied to headquarters and all divisions. I know the past few weeks have been hell for everyone, but we need to keep it together. The clock is ticking. Canvas everywhere. Talk to everyone. We
will
find her. That’s all for now.”

The officers dispersed. Marcus ran a hand through his hair and over his face. With each tick of the clock, every cell in his body screamed at him to do something. The same bastard who had killed Ryan and his family without hesitation most likely now had Evelyn. No, he
did.
Marcus knew the bastard had her. He could feel it.

“He’s got her, Derek.”

“We don’t know—”

Fin approached them. “Sir, I shouldn’t have let her—”

“There was nothing you could’ve done. He got the drop on you. It happens to the best of us.”

Fin shook his head sadly.

Marcus put a hand on the young rookie’s shoulder. “Every officer in the city will be on this until we find her. And we
will
find her.”

Fin dipped his head and walked to his desk.

Marcus waved to Derek and motioned toward the conference room. He closed the door behind them. “Something’s gotta break.”

“Nothing from Alexis?”

Marcus scrubbed his hands across his face, shook his head. “What you know, I know.”

“Call her. Maybe we’ll get lucky.” Derek tossed him his cell. “Use my phone to keep your line free.”

Marcus punched in the familiar number, turned and studied the murder board. Urgency inched up his spine, dread wrapped itself around his heart and squeezed.
Where was Evelyn? Was she even alive? And what the hell was that psychopath doing to her? If he lost her...

His stomach dropped.

“Easy, man,” Derek muttered.

Marcus paced, waited for Alexis to pick up.
Easy, his ass.
Lady Luck had played hard-to-get throughout this whole damn case. Somehow he doubted she’d suddenly show up.

Alexis answered on the third ring. “Hey, Derek.”

“It’s Marcus.”

“Why are you calling me on D’s phone?”

“Evelyn is missing,” Marcus said quietly.

“What? I don’t understand,” Alexis squeaked, her voice high. “What’s going on? When did this happen? Do you think it’s the same—”

“Alexis.” Marcus cut her off. “I don’t have time to explain. I need good news. And I need it now. Tell me you have something for me.”

Silence hung in his ear. Marcus’s heart sank.
Shit.
Lady Luck had just fucking flipped him off.

“Lex...” He swallowed his frustration.

“I’ve been working around the clock and I’m close, I can feel it.” She hesitated. “But I don’t have anything yet.”

Marcus punched the table. Derek turned from studying the board, took a step toward him. Marcus shook his head.

“Not good enough, Alexis. I need your A-game. Do whatever you have to. Call in favors. Pull strings. I don’t care what you have to do. I need that information. And I need it now.”

“Marcus...”

“Damn it, Alexis, do whatever it takes.” Marcus hung up and slumped into the chair. “Shit.”

“You were a bit rough on her, don’t you think?” Derek said, his voice hard.

“We need that information.”

“I understand that. But stressing out your baby sister isn’t going to make the information fall out of the sky, Marcus.”

“We both know she works best under pressure.”

“That’s total bullshit, and you know it.”

“We need that information,” Marcus argued.

“Yes, but you didn’t need to be an asshole about it,” Derek retorted. “If it’s out there, she’ll find it.”

“But will she be too late?”

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

T
HREE
AGONIZING
HOURS
slipped past. They’d gone through traffic camera footage, hoping for a hit. Nothing. Kessler sent out another team to canvas Evelyn’s neighborhood again. Nothing. CSI combed through Fin’s clothing, searching for a fiber, a piece of hair, anything that didn’t belong to the rookie. Nothing. Marcus paced the conference room, anxiety chipping away at him. With each passing second, the chance of finding Evelyn alive faded a little more. His chest tightened.

Derek’s phone chirped. He looked at it and tossed it to Marcus. “It’s Alexis.”

“Alexis, it’s Marcus. I was an ass. I’m—”

“Yes. You were. A complete ass. But—” her voice softened “—no apology is necessary. I’d be an asshole, too, if the person I loved went missing.”

The person he loved. Was it that obvious?
He rubbed the back of his neck and swallowed down the emotion that burst into his throat.

“Thanks for the grace, sweetheart.” He pushed a button, set the phone on the table. “You’re on speaker. Talk to us.”

“I’ve got news. It’s not everything. But it’s a start. And you owe me big-time. I’ve done things that we will not discuss. Ever.”

Marcus shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t even want to know what things—probably illegal things—Alexis had done to get him the information he’d demanded. He hated to put her in that position. But he’d do it over and over again if it meant it brought Evelyn back.

“And, God forbid, it ever comes back to bit me in the ass,” Alexis continued, “I’m calling you
both
to cover for me. You got it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” they said in unison.

“Lex, what have you got?” Derek asked.

“I have an address and a name for you—Nick McClain. He currently lives south of Seattle, in Woodmont Beach. I’m sending over photos now.”

“Excellent, great work. Thank—”

“That’s not all, Marcus.”

Marcus and Derek looked at each other.

“Not only is that the current address to your print, that print also has a connection to Evelyn’s family.”

“Holy shit. How...when—”

“Derek asked me to find any connections to Evelyn’s family murder M.O. and other murders in the same time period. Well, I found one. Actually, I found a lot. I’ve been sorting for—”

“Lex,” Derek said softly. “Focus.”

“Right. McClain’s father was killed two weeks before Evelyn’s family. His two daughters were murdered three weeks before that. The connection, aside from the similar time frame of murders? Evelyn and Nick McClain’s oldest sister, Angela, were at the same modeling agency together. Apparently the two girls were up for the same contract to Milan. Evelyn got it. Angela didn’t. Nor did she get booked again after that. Two months later, Angela, her kid sister, Sandra, and their father were dead. The oldest child, Nickolas McClain, was never found. He just disappeared, at least until now. It’s a leap, I know. But...”

“No, it’s a good start.” Marcus paced. “Are there any other properties listed to him or any close kin?”

“Checking that now. As soon as that I have that info, you’ll have it.”

Derek pulled up the photos, pushed them to the large screen at the end of the conference room.

A twenty-something man looked back at them, his face hard, stony. A tattoo spread across the left side of his bald head.

“This is our guy?” Derek asked. “He looks like a biker.”

“Yes...” She faltered.

“Talk to me, Alexis,” Marcus said. “Is this the guy or not?”

He hadn’t meant to be sharp with his baby sister.
Again.
Shit, he was being such a prick. But every cell in his body screamed at him to hurry up, to move. Alexis would most likely be the variable that cracked this case wide-open. But her hesitation sent cold fear down his spine.

“The prints match, yes. But I can’t be sure if the guy you’re currently seeing is our guy.”

“Why not?” Derek took another look at the image.

“This photo seems off, Marcus. But I’m not—”

“Alexis!”

“There’s an electronic shadow of a footprint that’s all wrong. I think this file has been hacked into, the photos swapped. You’d have to have some serious high clearance, know someone who does or just be that good. None of those options are positive. Let me dig into this, but I hope I’m not right.”

“Aside from obvious reasons, why do you hope that?” Marcus asked.

She took a deep breath. “Because then whoever did this is smart—like my kind of smart.”

The two brothers glanced at each other. Derek whistled.

“Can you get me his real photo?” Marcus asked.

A long pause filled the room.

“Alexis?”

“It might take me a while, depending on how good he is, but yes. I can get his real photo.”

“I need this guy’s face. Like yesterday.”

“Marcus, I know that. You’re being an asshole again.”

Derek chuckled.

“Sorry.” Marcus shook his head and stared at the photos illuminating the conference wall.

Her voice rose an octave. “Listen, I don’t think you guys are hearing me. If he’s the same guy you’re dealing with now, you’re talking about going up against a psychopathic genius.”

“We’re hearing you.”

“Marcus, don’t brush me off. This kind of twisted mind is dangerous. Derek, do you hear me?”

Derek smiled up at Marcus and rolled his eyes. Marcus swallowed the chuckle that rose in his throat. Now was not the time for jokes. With every passing second, he was one step further from Evelyn. His stomach sank. Anxiety clawed his soul.

“I hear you,” Derek said. “We both do.”

She continued, voice louder. “Marcus, if I’m right and he has Evelyn—”

Marcus interrupted her. “Then let’s hope you’re wrong.”

He hung up and sagged into a chair. His heart beat wildly against his chest.

“She’s going to be pissed you hung up on her,” Derek said.

Marcus looked up, stared at the photos. He crossed his arms over his chest and a muscle in his jaw jumped. “We both know Alexis is not going to be wrong.”

“I know.”

She wouldn’t be. Which meant, not only were they dealing with a maniac, but they were also dealing with a genius.
Shit.