Savage Ice (Ice Breaker Cold Case #10)

Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

“That was a complete waste of time.” Douglas slammed the door shut. He kept one hand on the frame and his back remained angled toward Avalon.

Her heart raced. Her palms were soaked with sweat. And she wanted to get the hell out of that room, that prison, but… “We learned quite a bit, actually.”

“From that shit show? Seriously?” He straightened. Whirled. Glared at Beau. “Do you have any concept of what the word control means?”

Beau shrugged.

Avalon thought Beau had displayed admirable control. And incredible trust. When she’d told him how this scene needed to go down, he hadn’t hesitated. Well, he had hesitated on one point…

No fucking way do I leave you alone with the guy.

She’d tried to tell him that she wouldn’t be alone. At least one guard would remain with her, if her plan went correctly. She’d just wanted a moment to speak with Everett without others hearing her. She’d needed that moment.

And she’d gotten it.

While the guards and Douglas had been distracted by Beau, she’d whispered to Everett, He’s tying up loose ends. He killed that kid who was waiting in my room. Drove over him with a car. You know who he is. Do you think he’ll let you live with that knowledge? Or do you think your friend will find a way to get to you?

She’d seen terror take over Everett’s expression. The killer hadn’t been able to get away from her fast enough. “He knows who the arsonist is.”

“Uh, how the hell would he know that?”

Her hand tightened around the handle of her briefcase. “Did you know that Everett Thomas was born and raised in New Orleans?” Her question was poised for Douglas, but her gaze darted to Beau.

No surprise showed on Beau’s face. She’d come to realize that he had already done plenty of background work on the players in this drama. Interesting.

Something else that was scarily interesting? The details about Beau that Everett had just revealed. Details Avalon hadn’t known. What Jag? And Beau had been in a gang back then?

How had Everett known those facts? Were they even facts or had he been spouting BS?

“Of course, I knew,” Douglas fired even as her mind swirled.

Her question hadn’t been for him, though, not really.

Douglas jerked his head down in a nod. “I’ve long suspected Everett may have claimed other vics in New Orleans. He left the city when he was around eighteen. Maybe nineteen. Things aren’t one hundred percent clear. We do know he eventually moved to Atlanta. That’s where authorities eventually found Virginia Long’s body.”

“I lived in New Orleans for a very long time, too,” she said. “Since his conviction, Everett Thomas has refused most interview requests, including those from some very powerful hitters in the industry. But he agreed to see me. I found that quite odd.”

Douglas blinked.

“I could only conclude that Everett agreed because, for some reason, he wanted to see me.”

“You’re similar in appearance to his vics.” Douglas tugged on his tie. “Thought that was enough to whet his interest. He’d been away from his prey for a while and was jonesing to see someone like you again.”

A growl came from Beau. Predatory. Dangerous.

“Look, I don’t like it, either! The guy is a freak, okay?” A rough expulsion of air from Douglas. “But I think—I know—there are more vics. Avalon is great with the killers.”

No, I’m not.

“If she could get him to slip up and reveal info we could use to find more vics, then him drooling over her for a bit would be worth it.” Douglas grimaced. “Avalon, you knew the score before you walked through the prison doors. The bodyguard—boyfriend—whatever he is—he may not like things, but you knew the game even before you started to play.”

“Yes.” She had. “I wanted to know who’d caught him.” It certainly wasn’t every day that a civilian captured a dangerous serial killer. Except…Everett was the second killer who’d been gift wrapped. Her gaze did not stray to Beau as she told Douglas, “In our first meeting, I could tell the way Everett watched me that he was curious about me. He knew all about my past.” That had certainly just been confirmed. Everett had slipped up and revealed too much. I believe he even knew about the bookshelf that had been moved in front of my door. I could open my door, but I couldn’t move the bookshelf that blocked my path. I wasn’t strong enough. Everett had specifically referenced her not being strong enough to get out. Her heartbeat quickened. “I think he knew the man who set the fires in New Orleans when I was a teen.”

But Douglas was clearly not on board. “That’s a huge jump to make, Avalon. There’s no reason to believe that Everett might have a connection to the arsonist just because the man happened to live in the same city!”

She had plenty of reason to believe that jump.

“He knows that I saved Avalon.” Beau’s voice.

That deep, dark voice slid through her.

“My name was always kept out of the media because I was a minor back then. Hell, I didn’t even give my real full name to anyone at the hospital. I’ve always been good at lying.”

Douglas twisted his tie.

“He knows that I have scars from the fire. How the hell does he know that?”

Douglas didn’t have an answer.

Avalon had suspicions. She knew Beau had those same suspicions.

“The bastard knows all about me and about Avalon, and now,” Beau’s voice deepened even more, “I have to wonder if he came to my bar those times because he was watching me. He knew about my past. You heard the bastard. He was curious to see what the fire had made me. What I’d become.”

Douglas squinted at him. “So, just what are you? Because Avalon assured me that you were playing on the side of the good guys right now.”

Beau stared steadily back at him. “I’m always playing on Avalon’s side.”

“I want a list of every guard who has been given duty with Everett.” Avalon’s mind churned through possibilities. “We need to cross-reference those individuals with Slater Wade, the man who was killed outside of my home. There’s going to be a link, I know it.” Excitement and adrenaline pumped in her blood. “I think a guard is passing along info for Everett. We connect the dots, we find a phone record, we find an email…something, and we will have a real lead.” It was happening. She knew it. Finally.

Douglas opened his mouth. Closed it. “You’re not serious. You think a guard—here—is working with a convicted serial killer?”

She inhaled. “Yes.” Believe me, Douglas. Believe me and?—

“Fuck. You get that this is conjecture. Practically jack and shit, right? Not like I have enough to take to a judge or show any jury in the world right now.”

This wasn’t about a jury or a judge. Yet. This was about trying to find the link that would break open her past.

“The law works in certain ways. Steps have to be followed. Procedures.”

“I’m just asking for the names of the guards who have access to him. The warden will give you that info. You don’t need a warrant.” She waited. Come on, Douglas, come on. “Just go talk to the man.”

“Pretty sure you tried to prosecute me for less than jack and shit once upon a time,” Beau recalled.

Douglas stabbed a hand in Beau’s direction. “I had a roomful of witnesses who saw you fighting the dead man! You threatened his life!”

“I told the bastard if he ever raised a hand to a woman again, it would be the last mistake he made.” A shrug from Beau. “And speaking of mistakes, not trusting Avalon right now will be your huge mistake. Go chat with your warden buddy. Get a list of names. Let’s see if there’s a connection to Slater Wade. What the hell do you have to lose?”

She could have kissed Beau right then.

When Douglas swore and stormed from the room…

He’s doing it! He’s getting us a list of the guards!

Avalon bounded toward Beau. She grabbed his shoulders and hauled him toward her. “You were perfect!” Avalon told him.

Then she kissed him.

“This isn’t the way to solitary.” Everett felt sweat slide down his back. Stupid fucking hot prison uniform. Stupid fucking meeting.

She doesn’t know anything. I’m safe.

He’d kept his secrets for years. Kept his friend close.

She doesn’t know.

But…

The kid was dead. Shit. Shit.

Didn’t mean anything, though. The kid had just been a tool. Meant to be disposed of sooner or later. Everett was different. He’d been in this thing from the very beginning.

They’d grown up together. Experimented together. Perfected together.

I started with water. You watched me. But the water was cold, and I couldn’t hear any screams when the vic was under the water.

Everett liked the sound of screams. The screams were half of the fun.

Water and fire. Such opposites.

Fire crackles like a scream. And the vics scream so loudly when they burn.

A lifetime ago. That was when it all began. Two kids shoved together. Two souls that understood.

Not fucking problems. Visionaries. That is what we were.

And…

He wouldn’t turn on me.

But, Everett was locked up. They’d been apart for so long.

More sweat trickled down his back.

Avalon Trahan should have died long ago. But she’d had guards after the fire. First from her family. They’d yanked her out of her school. Transferred her to a fancy private academy behind a big-ass gate. Bought a new house. Kept those hulking security personnel on her all the time.

Then later…

Others were watching. He’d first noticed the tails on her. Because maybe…maybe he’d thought that he could eliminate an old, loose end for a friend.

But she was never unprotected. He’d warned his friend about that. But someone had not paid attention.

He had to think. He had to plan. Had to get another message out, but the damn guard he needed wasn’t there that day. Everett fired an angry glare over his shoulder. He was stuck with those dumbasses.

“Settle down. You’re not going back to solitary, not just yet. You get five minutes in the yard.”

He stumbled. Stupid chains. “I don’t need five minutes.” He wanted the quiet of solitary confinement. It let him think. He needed to think.

Avalon was trying to get in my head.

And…she had.

“Relax,” the guard assured him. “It will be just you in the yard. Five minutes of sunshine. You know you’re supposed to get out each day.”

Yeah, yeah, he knew that but…

Another guard opened the door up ahead. The metal screeched. Sunlight glinted. So bright. Too bright. He’d never really liked the daytime. Night was better. Everything was better in the dark.

They took off his ankle manacles. The better for him to walk more than a freaking half-inch at a damn time.

And they…

Left him in the yard.

With his hands cuffed. With the sun shining down on him. Oh, Everett knew he wasn’t really alone. Guards watched from up above. But…

Quiet.

Still.

He closed his eyes and remembered the girls he’d loved over the years. He could hear their screams so perfectly. He’d become their nightmares. The last thing they’d seen before death. They’d been so afraid.

He hadn’t liked the water or the fire. He’d liked a knife. One gripped in his hand that had become part of him. He’d been the perfect weapon. And he’d been able to hear every single scream with such wonderful clarity.

She won’t feel a knife at the end. Avalon was going to be taken by the fire. He knew it was coming. She’d been marked for so long.

She didn’t remember him. He’d realized that when he first sat across from her just a few days ago. Oh, sure, she knew him as the Slasher. But she didn’t remember…

We met, once upon a time in New Orleans. A day she’d been celebrating. Laughing.

Young and innocent. Had she even realized what she’d witnessed in those few moments? Just in case, she’d been marked for death.

But she’d escaped the fire. Because of Beau. A prick who should have just boosted the ride and gone on his way. Hell, they had even thought about pinning the fire on Beau. He’d been in the right place. At the right time.

We saw you, too.

Except Beau hadn’t done what they anticipated. He’d changed everything. Screwed everything.

And now, the past had come back. Only, really, the past had never let her go.

He heard a rush of wind. His eyes opened because the sky had been so bright before. No sign of clouds and why was the wind so loud all of a sudden?

Pain pierced his chest.

“How does it feel, bitch?”

He blinked.

Footsteps thudded. More wind. And pain.

Men swarmed him. Old. Young. All in orange. Dark tattoos on their necks. Arms. Hands. A twisting snake. A roaring dragon. Tear drops on a tanned cheek.

Their arms flew up and down and he screamed and screamed as the pain cut through him.

Distantly, he heard the alarm when it began to blare.

But they didn’t stop.

Not even when he begged.