Chapter 16
“This isn’t what I had in mind when ye said ye’d spend the night with me, lass,” Shayne said as he grabbed the stack of files that fit the criteria Tristan set and placed them down on the coffee table in front of her.
“And yet, this is exactly what I had in mind,” Ashlyn said with a satisfied sigh as she gestured for him to get on with it with a handful of popcorn while he stood there, glaring down at the woman who’d asked him for a drink just so that she could steal his spot on the couch.
“This doesn’t count,” Shayne pointed out as he ran his eyes over her, unable to help but notice how adorable she looked sitting on the couch with a bowl of popcorn on her lap, her legs folded in front of her, giving him a good look at her Chucky socks and letting him know that his soulmate had a soft spot for horror movies.
“We had a deal,” Ashlyn pointed out as he glanced at Tristan to find his brother looking really fucking amused for some reason.
“We had a date,” Shayne countered as he glanced at the small woman sitting next to her, looking really fucking entertained as she watched them.
“You said that you would tell me everything that I wanted to know if you didn’t find anything that would help you solve this case, and since you’re standing there, glaring down at me instead of high fiving your brother on a job well done, I’m going to just go ahead and assume that our trip to the faire today wasn’t exactly productive,” Ashlyn said with a smug little smile that was just too goddamn adorable for words.
“That was my seat,” Shayne said with a pointed look in her direction.
Keeping her gaze locked with his, Ashlyn grabbed a handful of popcorn and tossed it in her mouth, taking her time chewing it before she said, “Was,” making his brothers laugh their asses off.
“God, I knew I liked the lass!” Quinn said, chuckling as he dropped down on the oversized leather chair.
Slowly nodding, Shayne made his way across the large living room and dropped down on the oversized chair, forcing Quinn to bite out a curse as he flashed away only to reappear seconds later, standing in front of him, glaring.
“Ye mean bastard! I was sitting there,” Quinn snapped, only to narrow his eyes when Shayne mouthed, “Was.”
Grumbling to himself, Quinn disappeared only to reappear seconds later on the couch next to Marty, who was devouring a large bowl of Reese’s Pieces while she enjoyed the show. He noted the laptop on her lap as he watched her frown when she looked at her husband and-
“What happened to your face?” Marty asked, absently gesturing to the bruise on the side of Tristan’s temple with a handful of Reese’s Pieces as Shayne watched Tristan go still.
“It’s nothing,” Tristan said, knowing better than to let his wife know that they’d decided to test their sword skills today, knowing that she would kill him since he was supposed to be taking it easy. Thankfully, they’d managed to sneak the swords up to his room before she got home and-
“You have security cameras on the back of your house, right?” Ashlyn asked off-handedly, helping herself to another handful of popcorn as her devious gaze landed on him.
There was a collective gasp in the room as every one of his brothers looked at Ashlyn and-
“I love her,” Finn said with a dreamy sigh that was matched by Declean.
Swallowing hard, Shayne watched Marty narrow her eyes on her husband as Tristan cleared his throat, shifted, and then made the mistake of glancing at the doorway, letting her know just how close he was to making a run for it.
Slowly nodding, Marty shifted her attention to the laptop on her lap. After a few clicks and thirty seconds of scrolling, the room was suddenly filled with the sounds of metal clashing, drawing his attention to the flatscreen television mounted on the wall above the fireplace.
“This isn’t gonna end well,” Aidan said as Shayne winced while he watched himself swing his sword at Tristan’s head and-
“Did...did you just bitch-slap my husband?” Marty asked as they watched Tristan duck out of the way only to have Shayne take advantage and backhand his brother.
“It’s just a bad camera angle, lass,” Shayne said, only to wince again when the move sent Tristan flying.
“I would have made ye my bitch,” Declean said, earning nods from the rest of their brothers, who’d been forced to stand on the sidelines and watch them spar. He knew that it killed them not to be able to join in, so they’d settled for yelling insults and critiquing their every move.
“I still say that bitch-slap was a seven,” Quinn said, tilting his head as they watched Tristan land on his ass.
Shaking his head, Liam said, “Five and a half. He didn’t even make the lad cry.”
“I saw the little bastard’s eyes tear up,” Declean said with a sad shake of his head, earning a glare from Tristan, who discreetly flipped him off so that Ashlyn didn’t see.
“And the reason you felt the need to follow the move by tackling my husband to the ground and putting him in a headlock?” Marty asked, throwing him a curious look.
Clearing his throat, Shayne said, “I tripped?”
Nodding, Marty said, “That would explain why Tristan tried helping you up when he twisted your arm behind your back.”
“I’m very considerate,” Tristan said dryly with a smug look.
“The little bastard pretended ta be hurt!” Shayne bit out, still pissed at himself for falling for it, but in his defense, the last time that Tristan hurt his shoulder, it ended up killing him.
Blinking innocently, Tristan said, “I was hurt. Did you not see the way that you bitch-slapped me for no reason?”
Shayne went to open his mouth to argue only to get cut off by a delicate throat clearing as Ashlyn regally gestured to the files.
“You may begin.”
“Tattletale,” Shayne mouthed, forcing Ashlyn to bite back a smile as she grabbed another handful of popcorn only to follow that up with a satisfied sigh, mostly because she couldn’t help herself.
There was just something about pissing off the man who enjoyed screwing with her head that brought a smile to her face.
“I requested the digital copies of all the files once they knew what to look for,” Marty began, drawing Ashlyn’s attention back to the flatscreen television in time to watch Marty open a folder, revealing the names of all the missing girls that had made the cut.
Ashlyn quickly noted that there were fifty-nine.
“We also uploaded the files from your memory stick and combined them so that we could fill in any missing pieces,” Marty continued as Ashlyn sat there, slowly nodding as she placed the bowl of popcorn on the end table and took in everything that they’d been working on.
“From that, we used a crime mapping program to mark all eighty-seven cases and added the extra ones that you were given,” Marty explained as a map of the northeastern part of the United States popped up with red dots indicating the last known location for all the missing women.
“Then, we removed the ones that didn’t match the criteria,” Marty said, clicking option B on the screen and in seconds, around thirty red dots immediately disappeared.
“There’s no pattern,” Ashlyn murmured absently as she took in all the red dots scattered across the map. There were some in New York, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut, Vermont, Maine, and New Hampshire.
“No, there isn’t,” Tristan said, taking over.
“But, from what we do have, we were able to narrow the timeline down to twenty-two years. The victims are all women, ranging from ages sixteen to sixty-four. They come from different ethnicities, religions, and economic backgrounds. They have absolutely nothing in common except for having the misfortune to catch some asshole’s attention. ”
“How did you come up with this list?” Ashlyn asked, gesturing to the stack of files on the coffee table.
“They were all taken within two miles of high-end restaurants and high-end restaurant supply companies and all of them were grabbed in a downtown area,” Tristan explained while Ashlyn sat there, thinking about everything she’d just learned.
“Megan wasn’t grabbed in a downtown area. She was grabbed at King William’s Faire,” Ashlyn pointed out as Marty pulled up the pictures the police took right after she was reported missing.
“Which is why her case is out,” Tristan said, reaching over and picked up the file on top and dropped it on the other end of the coffee table.
“Julia Mason was supposed to attend a luncheon at The Meridian Bistro that the company she was interning with held for new interns, but she never arrived,” Ashlyn said, bringing up the reason why she was here in the first place.
“She sent a text message to her father, letting him know that she was lost before she disappeared,” Tristan said as Marty brought up images of Julia cutting through an alleyway, the last images anyone had of her alive, before switching to the pictures the police took at the end of the alleyway and-
“Oh, fuck me...”