Truth & Lies: A Queen City Justice Novel (17 page)

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Authors: Elizabeth Bemis

Tags: #Mail Order Bride, #FBI, #military, #Police

BOOK: Truth & Lies: A Queen City Justice Novel
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

Wednesday, December 3—3:00 p.m.

Cincinnati FBI Field Office, Kenwood Neighborhood, Cincinnati, Ohio

“Yenichek. You’re cleared to go back to Deck Murphy’s.”

Dana turned around and looked at her boss. “What? What do you mean?”

“I spoke with him. He’s allowing you to come back.”

Hope gathered in her chest. “And he’s pleased about this?”

“He’s allowing you to come back.” Sherwood’s tone was flat and that told Dana all she needed to know. Her hope fizzled out like air from an untied balloon.

“Terrific.”

“We’re bringing him in on the case. You can brief him about everything and he’s going to read you in on his case. I’ll get Emilie to send over analysis she needs help with.”

Dana nodded. That was better than nothing. Better than staring at the walls while Deck refused to speak to her.

She left work, went home and repacked her bags. Knowing that she might be with Deck for a while, she packed a bigger bag than she had before.

She made it to Deck’s house by four thirty. Standing outside his door, she shuffled from foot to foot. Should she knock or just go in?

Before she could make that decision, he opened the door. “Are you going to stand out here all day?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe in what was a pretty good imitation of casual. The pulse visibly knocking in his throat gave him away, however.

“I was thinking about it,” she said.

“Come on in,” he said.

“Thanks.” She cleared her throat. “Thanks for having me back. I know you’re angry, but—”

“Look. We don’t have to do this. You did what you had to do, and I don’t like it, but I get it.”

“So what? You forgive me?” There was that damned hope again. Hope laced with irony, because she knew
that
wasn’t going to happen.

He gave her a look that clearly telegraphed,
Get real.

“I’m sorry. I know you hate liars, and I am one. In fact, I’m the best liar I know. I don’t actually expect your forgiveness, but I hope we don’t have to hate each other. At least give me credit for having stopped things last night before they went too far.”

Deck snorted a scoff. “What? So I find out my ‘bride’ is not only a pathological liar, but also I don’t get laid? And I’m supposed to thank you for that?”

“Don’t be an asshole.”

Deck went really still before slowly shaking his head. “Dana, I get why you did what you did. But you and me? We’re over. That’s just not going to happen. I can’t be with someone who lies as well as you do.”

Even though she’d known this would be the outcome, his words still leveled her. It felt like someone had hollowed out her chest. She had a hard time getting air. Dana blinked hard so that the tears that gathered behind her eyes wouldn’t see the light of day. She couldn’t give him the satisfaction—or if not satisfaction, then the upper hand—of knowing he had the power to make her cry.

She cleared her throat again, trying to talk around a lump the size of a watermelon. “Got it.” She bit her lip. Those tears were being pretty persistent. “I’ll try to stay out of your way except when we’re working. Give me a few to put my stuff away, and I’ll come back and give you everything I have on the case.”

She brushed past him, barely even acknowledging the dog as she made her way up the stairs and into the guest room. Hvala scooted in before she could shut him out, so she let him stay. Before she could second-guess herself and head for the safety of home, she threw her clothes into the dresser, stashed her bag in the closet, and collapsed on the bed.

She’d give herself a ten-minute pity party before going back down to face him. Hvala hopped onto bed and snuggled into her, licking her hand.

Deck might hate her but at least the dog was happy to see her.



Date unknown, early evening.

Somewhere in Southwestern, Ohio

“Let’s go. It’s time.”

All the blood drained from Anka’s face as the bag of clothes he’d just handed her dropped from her fingers to the bed.


Ne
.” The word barely made it past the choking fear in her throat. It was too soon. She should still have at least another week. Her cuts weren’t fully healed from the last time.

“Don’t tell me no! Get dressed. It’s time to see your husband.”

He wasn’t her husband. She wasn’t his wife. And she couldn’t go through it again.

“He wants to see you in less than an hour. You don’t have time to waste.”


Molim
,” she whispered.
Please
. As if that was going to have any impact on this monster.

“I’ll put you in the shower myself if I have to.”

And he would. He had the last time. There was no dignity in that. No difference in the outcome except that she would feel doubly violated by yet someone else touching her naked body.

Tears ran down her face as she picked up the obscene bag of clothing and went into the bathroom.

As she showered, she considered every possible means of escape. Unfortunately, nothing occurred to her that she hadn’t thought of before. Even a few that she’d tried with no result except a wrenched arm and an extra bruise upon her face.

She wouldn’t be taken out of the building.
He
would come to her.

She contemplated suicide again, for what must have been the millionth time. He didn’t give her access to anything that she could do herself in with. There were no medications in the apartment. No scissors, no knives. Nothing sharp. Nothing to hang herself from or with.

The only possible means was breaking the mirror and cutting her wrists.

An eternity of fiery damnation didn’t seem nearly as daunting as the hell she’d been living in. Surely God would understand.

The only thing that stopped her from putting her shoe into the mirror to break it was the thought of Katja. Her baby girl shouldn’t grow up without a mother. He couldn’t keep her here forever, could he?

Soap mingled with the tears in her eyes, and Anka barely noticed the stinging.

Maybe if she didn’t give him what he wanted. He wanted to see her fear, and he wanted her to fight him. What if she simply submitted? Maybe he’d kill her like he had the others. Or maybe, just maybe, he’d let her go.

With numb movements, she dressed in the shamefully short spandex skirt and the sheer blouse with one button. It displayed the scars on her stomach. He’d like that too much.

She tucked the ends into the waistband of her skirt, left over right, to cover as much of herself as she could.

This evening would be about giving him no satisfaction. That would be her reward for what she knew she was about to endure.



Saturday, December 6—6:00 p.m.

Norwood Neighborhood, Cincinnati, Ohio

It was almost time.

His heart raced as he buttoned his black silk shirt. Now that the decision had been made, he didn’t know why he’d tried to wait for so long. No one should be expected to go without seeing their mate for a whole month.

He didn’t have that sort of patience, and he loved her too much.

Anka.

How would she look in the clothes he’d bought her? Would her eyes brighten when she came into the room? Did she miss him as much as he missed her?

He couldn’t wait to make love to her again. To hear her lusty cries as she gave him what he wanted. She always seemed so emotional afterward.

He stepped into his pants, grinning ruefully at how difficult it was to zip his fly over the evidence of his thickening desire.

What would Anka’s new friend be like? Not as pretty as her, certainly. And she probably wouldn’t have the same level of endurance. That was what made Anka truly his soul mate. She could take as much as he had to give.

Only a few more minutes before he could see her.

He could hardly wait.



Sunday, December 7— 2:30 a.m.

Clifton Neighborhood, Cincinnati, Ohio

Andrew was getting really sick and tired of making “Rally the troops” calls in the middle of night.

He made it to Mount Adams as Doc dragged himself out of his hybrid Ford Escape.

“Hey boss.” He reached into the backseat and pulled out a black leather jacket, which he pulled on over his black turtleneck and black jeans. “Cold enough for you?” Doc’s breath clouded in front of him as he dug a pair of gloves out of his pockets and slid his hands into them.

Honestly, Andrew hadn’t even noticed until Doc had mentioned it. Between the lack of sleep and preparation for the horror they were about to witness, he’d talked himself into a state of alert numbness.

The rest of the team pulled into the parking lot moments later.

Andrew looked up at the church and the zigzaggy steps leading to the entrance. The Holy Cross Immaculata parish was famous for its Good Friday tradition of “praying the steps.” The faithful walked up the eighty-nine steps to the highest point in the city, overlooking the Ohio River. At each step, the pilgrims prayed the rosary.

What a hideous place to dump a body.

Now, a perimeter of yellow crime scene tape kept a couple of reporters out. The scene was still pretty quiet, but Andrew didn’t expect that to last.

“Agent Sherwood. Captain Chris Heisler, I’m the commander for Criminal Investigation Section. We’ll stay out of your way, but let us know what we can do to help.”

“Thanks, Captain.”

They ducked under the yellow tape and started climbing the stairs. They found the body on the last landing, just before the steps made a final turn and ascended to the entrance.

Like the others, she’d been posed. Like the others, she wore revealing clothing and high heels. She’d been cut like the others as well. It looked like someone had taken a baseball bat to her forehead, leaving the remainder of her face intact.

“She’s not one of the missing girls,” Andrew said. He’d studied the photos of the missing women long enough that he knew all their faces by heart.

“Same guy, though,” Doc said. “She’s posed exactly like the other women. That wasn’t released to the media.”

“I haven’t seen her come through DCT in the past month. I’ve photographed every woman who’s come in or out of there. Something about this isn’t right,” MacQuaid said. “You don’t suppose he found a new source?”

Andrew had been wondering the same.

“She’s not his usual type. A little older than the other women. A little heavier,” Doc said.

She wasn’t overweight, necessarily, but she was a little rounder, a little softer than his previous victims. Her breasts were full but not firm. The exposed skin of her belly was loose with a network of silvery stretch marks. “Oh God. She’s had kids,” Kier said, turning away from the scene and breathing into the sleeve of his coat like he was trying to keep from vomiting.

Andrew looked to Doc, who nodded. “I’d guess a couple of them.”

MacQuaid continued to ponder the horizon, looking a little gray.

“You gonna swoon there, New Guy?” Doc asked in an uncharacteristic dig.

Andrew looked sharply between the two men, but saw MacQuaid suck in a breath and straighten his spine.

“Fuck you,” he said with more good-naturedness than Andrew would have had in his shoes.

Of course, Doc would have known better than to say something like that to Andrew. And since MacQuaid appeared to be 100% ready for action, maybe it had been exactly the right thing to say.

“Get the commander up here. I want him to see if there are any missing person reports matching this woman’s description.”

MacQuaid, who had been looking for an excuse to escape, scrambled back down the steps and returned shortly after with Captain Heisler, having briefed the commander of the situation.

“I’m having all the missing persons reports from the past month sent to your office,” he said. “Anything else you need?”

“No, Captain. Thanks for your help.”

“There’s not a lot we can do until the Crime Scene techs get done. You guys go catch a couple of hours of sleep. Let’s meet in the office at one so we can start fresh. This guy has changed his victimology and upped his timetable. It’s only going to get worse from here.”

Especially since he could pretty much count on a call from both the mayor
and
the director tomorrow morning.



Sunday, December 7— 2:30 p.m.

Oakley Neighborhood, Cincinnati, Ohio

Deck snagged Dana’s phone off the island in the kitchen on the second ring.

“Phone’s for you. It’s your boss.”

Dana stood at the sink, washing her coffee cup. Having her help with the household chores and looking this damned cute all the time was not helping him keep his irritation with her at a simmer.

“Can you put it on speakerphone?” she asked.

He nodded and pushed the button.

“Hey, boss. You’re on the speakerphone.”

There was a long pause, and Deck wondered if he was going to insist that Dana pick up the phone. “Dana, I have some news.”

Sherwood’s voice was grim.

Deck watched her expression fade.

“What happened?” she asked.

“He’s upped his timetable. We found another girl this morning.”


Fuck
,” she whispered under her breath. “One of the ones that was missing?”

“No. This one wasn’t a Croatian bride.”

“How do you know?”

“Because her husband filed a missing person report for her two days ago. She’s a local. A mom with three young boys.” He cleared his throat. “He lifted her from her son’s pee-wee football game. He’s getting even more twisted.”

Her hands shook as she set the clean coffee cup on the edge of the sink and started on the next item in the sink. Deck wondered if he was going to have to catch her.

“So I was sitting here as unused bait while he took someone off the streets?
Jesus
. Let me come back.”

“We’re going to have Murphy give you back to DCT soon, but we don’t want to send you in blindly. Too much opportunity for you to get hurt if we can’t get to you quickly.”

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