Shadow of Doubt (An SBG Novel Book 2) (26 page)

Cappy snapped closed the legal-sized file Romeo had filched from the FBI’s command central. It contained a copy of the search warrant as well as notes and the photos the FBI and Marshals had taken prior to executing the search. No extraneous picture frames were in any of the shots.

His mind raced and dread pooled in his gut. What the hell did extra picture frames mean? Why the hell would anyone break in to plant them? Not one answer he could think of included anything good.

They finally reached her complex located in the northeast section of Indianapolis. As with the vibe of the rest of the metropolis, her area didn’t have that space-is-a-premium-so-we’ll-live-on-top-of-each-other feel. The open, spacious expanse had grass, trees, walkways, and lots of parking.

“Circle around the row of buildings containing Michelle’s apartment,” he instructed, trying not to focus solely on the tremoring figure plastered against his side—his doing. Maybe he’d get a long fur cloak to go with his King of Stupidity crown and scepter.

Not much moved at three thirty in the morning. The full moon helped illuminate the area but nothing set off his radar.

Romeo parked the SUV in a lot one row over from their destination. “Be right back.”

His operative disappeared and Cappy had nothing to fill the tense air with. He had no words to soothe Michelle or even a clue as to what he could do to make this right. He curled his free hand. He needed to know what the hell was going on.

“We’re going to have a look around,” Wraith stated, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He nodded and she and Grady exited the Suburban, quietly closing the door behind them.

None of the other members of his team seemed inclined to fill in the silence, so they all sat there, waiting.

Romeo finally came back into view, jogging across the parking lot. He opened the driver’s side door and per their usual fashion, the dome lights stayed off. “We’re all clear for about fifteen minutes. I told the agents watching the place I wanted to have a look around so I’d be on the premises in case Michelle returned.” He met Cappy’s gaze. “They seemed relieved to have had their boredom interrupted but reluctant to actually leave until I gave them a ten and told them to grab some coffee and a sandwich on me at the convenience store up the road. That motivated them.”

“Excellent,” Cappy replied, fishing his money out of the side pocket of his cargo pants. He held up a ten-dollar bill. “Reimbursement.”

Romeo scowled. “Not necessary.”

Cappy’s brow knit and he held his subordinate’s gaze. He didn’t want anyone taking on any type of expense in what was basically turning into a personal mission.

“Time’s wasting,” Talon interrupted, opening the side door. “Settle up later.”

Cappy dropped his hand. Shit. He hated when the bastard was right, but Romeo only bought them (literally) a small window.

They all marched up the cement steps to Michelle’s third-floor apartment. The hairs on the back of his neck stood and he hated having her here, but she was the best person to tell him what didn’t belong.

Michelle hugged her arms closer to her body and kept up with his steps. Romeo and Magician led the way while Talon and Ted followed behind. Cappy would’ve rather left the genius in the truck but the guy had been pouring over the evidence and might be able to lend an extra opinion if needed. Christ, he hoped it wouldn’t be needed.
Please let this be a prank.

The top landing leveled off into a decent-sized hallway that housed four apartment doors, two on each side. The whole stairway was open and a stiff breeze caused a low, eerie sound to run through the space. Shit, his spook-o-meter was redlining with each step closer.

Since the stairwell had flights of steps on each side of the building, it was relative to say that Romeo and Magician opened the first of the two doors on the right and disappeared inside. Cappy maneuvered to enter before Michelle, wanting to be ready to shield her if something or someone was in there to attack. Talon had his knife out and positioned himself the same way for Ted. Ted gulped, his face pale as he hugged his tablet and the FBI file to his chest.

Goose bumps flared over Cappy’s skin and he had a sudden urge to escort Michelle back downstairs. Pushing the warning to the side, he stepped into the small tiled foyer and instantly cataloged the space. The door had opened into a living/dining room combo. A sliding glass door bisected the left wall, which led to a tiny balcony. The wall to his right must belong to the bedroom since he couldn’t see one from this vantage point. He caught a glimpse of a refrigerator straight ahead and knew the kitchen lay behind the dining room wall. Beyond that, he couldn’t see anything else since the apartment skewed to the right.

Romeo and Magician moved deeper into the living room and Cappy’s senses intensified. Goddamn it. He couldn’t find a physical threat.

Against his better judgment, he allowed Michelle to enter by stepping away from the door.

She gasped.

Yeah, he could see why Romeo had sounded the alarm. A person didn’t need police training to figure out the cheap black eight-by-ten picture frames dotting the surface of every room didn’t belong.

Don’t touch
, whispered in his brain.

Talon ushered Ted inside just as Grady and Wraith slipped in behind them. They closed the door while Michelle’s hand flew to her mouth and she shook her head.

The fear in her eyes widened with alarm. “My place,” she breathed. “What did they do to my apartment?” She picked up an accent pillow off the floor.

Cappy scanned the rooms he could see again. Damn. He’d been so focused on the frames he’d ignored the evidence of the search. It seemed the FBI and Marshals hadn’t been concerned with placing items back where they found them. Instead, shit was strewn everywhere.

Michelle wandered and he followed a step behind.

“Can you tell if anything’s missing?” Worry that whoever broke in might have taken a memento ate at Cappy’s gut. The creep-factor of that notion ratcheted up his desire to hustle her back to the SUV.

Her footsteps shushed over the beige carpeting and they rounded the corner. Multiple doors were left ajar and he could see one led to her bedroom, one went to a storage closet, while another closet contained linens, and the fourth door led to the bathroom.

The hairs on his arms rose as she wandered into her bedroom and he counted four fucking frames marring the room.
Destroy them immediately
, his intuition warned.

Her clothes had been ruffled through and even a few dresser drawers been stacked on the floor. His gut tightened and he couldn’t even register something as profound as seeing the most intimate space Michelle lived in for the first time. He couldn’t stop his eyes from drifting back to the frames.
Malice.
The word skittered down his spine and he ripped his gaze away.

The walk-in closet was long, acting like a hallway to the bathroom.

Another goddamn frame sat on the shelf above the right rod.

In the bathroom, on top of the closed toilet lid, a picture frame rested creepily, easily seen from his spot in the bedroom.

He could barely breathe, his alarms were ringing so loud.
Leave them alone
.

He ushered Michelle back out to the living room, taking note that her kitchen contained a small table for two and more motherfucking frames.

Burn them. Everything about them is wrong.

“I don’t think anything’s missing,” Michelle finally answered, her voice hollow and her eyes now staring at a frame positioned in front of her TV. “It’s hard to tell with everything messed up.” She pointed at another, sitting on the recliner. “They’re definitely not mine. Who would do this?”

“We’re going to find out,” he promised tightly since that was the only thing he could do. “We need to get out of here. Now.”
Go, before the damage they promise is done
.

Romeo looked at his watch. “Agreed. We’ve got seven minutes left.” He motioned to the apartment as a whole. “So, we’ve got twelve frames all together.”

Jesus Christ.

“I inspected them earlier,” Romeo continued. “There’re no wires or any other components of explosives, so they’re not bombs.”

“Oh Jesus,” Michelle whispered, swaying.

Cappy caught her and tucked her by his side, barely containing his shout to leave the frames alone.

Romeo was Delta Squad’s explosives expert. It wasn’t surprising his mind instantly went to bombs first.

“So, these were left sometime after the search warrant and before you visited,” Talon mused, frowning at the rooms.

“Had to be,” Romeo answered. “They’re not in the photos the FBI took before they executed the search.”

Cappy couldn’t rip his eyes off the black menaces. Why wasn’t anyone else picking up on the vibe the frames contained
something
that shouldn’t be revealed?

“So we’ve got about a twenty-four-hour window when the person could’ve done this,” Talon continued brainstorming.

“Shorter than that, I’d suspect,” Cappy pushed through his locked jaw, trudging through his instincts to make sense of this new twist. “If it’s the same person who killed April and Colin.”

The sound of snapping plastic made Cappy twitch and his gaze flew to Magician.
Damn nerves
. She situated a pair of latex gloves onto her hands and picked up a frame off the coffee table. Flipping it over, she inspected underneath the cardboard stand.

No. No. No.
Acid threatened to eat through his stomach lining.

“Nothing,” she said, her tone almost robotic. “No price tag, barcode, or any other marker to say where it was bought.” She turned it in her hands again and ran a finger around the glass and wood seam. “No signs of anything shoved into the edges.”

“That makes no sense,” Ted interjected.

So much for the wizard having anything to contribute.

Ted’s bloodshot eyes darted around the room. “Who’d want to leave frames all over the place with the fake families?”

Put it down
. He let go of Michelle and stepped forward.

Magician strode over to the single lamp they’d turned on and held the frame up to the light. “Wait.”

Blood roared past Cappy’s ears and his heart tried to thunder out of his chest
. Don’t open it.

She placed it on the futon’s wooden arm and dug her finger under the metal hooks holding the back onto the frame. After prying all four up, she lifted the back off and sucked in a breath. “Sweet mother of God.”

Cappy’s mind blitzed.

Romeo vaulted to her side and Cappy almost took out the coffee table in his haste to see what the hell would make her say that.

Romeo’s skin whitened and his eyes flew to Michelle. He swallowed hard, then grabbed the pieces of the frame and shoved them into Cappy’s outstretched hands.

Michelle plastered herself to his side and he could feel the rest of the team at his back.

A bloody arm caught his attention and he moved the rest of the backing out of the way. His breathing stuttered and his stomach threatened to heave. “No,” he breathed.

Michelle wailed, her hands covering her mouth as she gagged and swooned. Talon caught her, which shamed Cappy, but his mind had trouble processing anything else. His operative held her and uttered a low growl that blended with Wraith’s cry and Grady’s expletives.

Cappy couldn’t take his eyes off the photo resting within the frame. Michelle lay handcuffed, spread-eagle in the center of a bed, its paper-thin mattress barely keeping her away from the rusty springs underneath.
Goddamnsonofabitch.
Blood, dirt, and evidence of a heavy beating along with burns and cuts covered her naked body.

His hands shook so hard he could barely keep a hold of the frame. Memories tried to invade his mind, wanting to take him back to that hell and relive the moment when he saw her like this.

“Gather them up,” Cappy ordered hoarsely. “Every single one of these goddamn things. We’re taking them with us.”

Michelle cried into Talon’s shoulder, her body convulsing with each sob.

Cappy snatched the loose photo and shoved the frame pieces into Romeo’s hands. “Sonya, pack her a bag of clothes. I’ve got to get her out of here.” He collected Michelle from Talon, hoisting her into his arms so he could cradle her against him. He couldn’t stand not being the one to comfort her, and to be honest, he needed to hold her for himself.

***

Cappy sat in the flimsy plastic chair on the cement-slab back porch of Cottage One. Magician had given Michelle a mild sedative to calm her ragged emotions and help her sleep. Cappy had then placed her in the master bedroom, praying the whole time the drug was strong enough to keep the nightmares at bay.

The moment he came out, Magician and Wraith tag-teamed on telling the story behind the photo to everyone.

Christ. He had almost lost it listening to every goddamn detail of how she’d received those marks and scars. He never knew the origin, only the result. The moment Magician and Wraith were done, he’d instructed everyone to pack it in for the night. He needed to be alone. His emotions were on the razor edge and he couldn’t handle answering even one question. Talon hadn’t been ready to call it a night, so he’d offered to take the first shift and recon the area. The rest of the team didn’t like being dismissed while this new bomb had dropped. They wanted to discuss how the picture frames fit into the puzzle, but he couldn’t talk about any of it yet.

The single light beside the sliding glass door wasn’t the brightest, but he didn’t need a spotlight to know what the photos contained. His hands trembled as he gripped the cock-sucking things by their edges.

Those planted frames hid twelve eight-by-ten photographs, each more disturbing than the previous one. His shaking fingers managed to flip to the next shot. More of the same of what the team saw in the apartment, except in this one, she was looking at Cappy and attempting to talk. Her face was a battered mess and his mental-video tried to press Play.

He cradled his head. He didn’t need the photos to remind him of the condition he found her in. Every day for the last six years, his subconscious had done an excellent job of keeping his memory fresh by arbitrarily coughing up an image.