Chapter 3
Grayson
“Thank you for meeting me, Chief Harrison,” I said as we stood in front of a picture-perfect, two-story home in the suburbs of St. Louis.
“Please, call me Amara, Mr. Grayson,” the woman standing beside me said, her voice sincere. “Thank you for doing this. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to be at Oasis this morning,” she continued, turning to face me. She looked up at me through her sunglasses.
I didn’t bother looking at her as I responded. “How long has the home been up for sale?”
The police chief read my mood almost instantly and, thank fuck, she decided to cut the shit and get right down to it.
“Over a year now. Carrie’s father started getting rid of everything and put the home on the market without her consent,” she explained.
“I assume this was before her father was taken into custody?” I asked, moving up the driveway, tilting my head back, my eyes on the upstairs windows.
“Yes,” Amara answered, keeping up with me, her hands in her pockets.
After I took another few seconds to take in the condition of the house, I twisted my neck to look at her. “You got the keys?” I asked.
Releasing a deep breath, she nodded, pulling off her sunglasses. “Yes, but I don’t think she stopped by after she left rehab. I had a team do a sweep of the residence last night when Jeremy called.”
I looked back to the front door and then back to her. “No offense, Chief Harrison, but your team isn’t me. I’d like to do a solo sweep.” I wasn’t going to call her by her first name. We weren’t friends. We were nothing more than strangers caught up in this tangled web of shit.
She looked conflicted, her eyes hardening as she slowly pulled out the keys. “Whatever you think is best, Mr. Grayson.”
Once I had the keys in hand, I turned and headed for the door without giving her so much as a thank you. I didn’t have time for small talk. This was a job and nothing more. As soon as my boots hit the front porch, I pulled out my phone and shot a text to Jake.
Me: Doing a walk through of the Hale house.
Jake: Roger that. Camera is on.
A second later, a notification came across my phone letting me know the camera was on. I pulled off my sunglasses and folded them into the collar of my shirt, the tiny camera beside the top lens already recording.
A second later, I shoved the key in the door and pushed my way inside.
The first thing I noticed was the faint smell of bleach. The second thing I noticed was the sense of evil that lingered in this house. Bad things happened here, and despite Carrie’s records being sealed, anyone who thought about buying this place would feel it the second they walked in.
That was why this place hadn’t sold.
A sinister darkness lingered in the air, hiding in plain sight.
According to the cluster fuck of files I’d received from Garner an hour ago, the crime scene was cleaned up by the police and then once more by the men Carrie’s father hired to clear out the house. My eyes scanned over the empty living room, the white walls, the shining hardwood floors. Silence filled my ears as I took slow steps, making sure the camera got what Jake needed before moving on to the next room.
When I entered the kitchen, I pictured Carrie here, along with her husband. I could see their lives playing out before me now that I’d seen pictures of them. I could practically hear their voices, their happiness.
I’d spent the last hour inhaling the information I’d been given before passing it on to my team. There was no doubt Hayes and Dominic were already putting together a timeline for me, analyzing every single aspect of Carrie’s life before she went off the deep end.
I checked the pantry, closets, and the storage space below the stairs before making my way up to the second level of the house. There, I was greeted by a long hallway. The master bedroom was separated from the rest at the opposite of the hall. I saved that for last, heading into the smaller bedrooms, checking the closets, the spare bathroom.
Sighing, I closed the last door and turned to head to the master at the end of the long hallway. The door was open, the sunlight bleeding through the windows and onto the floor. The closer I got to the open door, the more tense I became, my body on alert as I pictured what Carrie had to witness that morning. The room was empty, but my eyes dropped to the floor where the bed once sat. I stared at that spot for a long time, knowing that she didn’t even make it over to the bed before she fainted.
After a few minutes, I turned and faced the closed bathroom door.
My eyes dropped to the doorknob as I envisioned blood dripping from it.
According to Amara Harrison’s report, the bloody bath water spilled over, flooding the bathroom before slinking its way out into the bedroom. She said it wasn’t dark red, more pinkish than anything else due to the body not having any more blood to spill.
My jaw was tight as I opened the bathroom door wide, letting it hit the wall as my eyes went directly to the bathtub. The reports were gruesome to be sure, but no words could describe what Carrie Hale saw that day. I kept my breathing steady as her haunting scream of terror echoed in my ears, her cries of panic as she begged to wake up from the nightmare she’d been thrown into.
I was man of little feeling. I didn’t care about people.
I did my job, took my money, and moved on.
However, this…Something inside me shifted as I stared down at the crisp, porcelain tub, glimmering in the sunlight.
Grinding my teeth, I felt a new, unfamiliar anger form inside me.
If it wasn’t for the fact that my cell phone started ringing, I might have allowed myself to feel that anger, possibly even explore it.
Peeling my eyes away from the tub, I pulled out my cell.
“Grayson,” I answered.
“Hi, Mr. Grayson. This is Marcy from the St. Louis airport. I received a phone call from one of your employees stating you wanted the camera footage from the last twenty-four hours.”
After my plane landed, I had Hayes call the airport while Jake hacked into the footage for the bus station. Of course, Jake could easily hack into airport security, but that last thing we needed was this to look like an attempted terrorist attack.
Not again, at least.
If we pissed off the government one more time, we’d lose our favors.
So, we were doing things the legal way—for now.
After getting hands on her file, I knew in my gut that Carrie Hale was no longer in St. Louis. She would’ve gotten out of here the second she was free if she was smart, and there wasn’t a thought in my mind that she was stupid.
After reviewing her file and replaying the information that Jeremy gave me last night, I concluded that she’d been planning this for a while.
Planning took time and, most of all, you had to have a certain kind of patience to escape any kind of lockup.
Starting a new life required money—which she shouldn’t have, according to the police reports. All accounts belonging to Robert Hale and her father were frozen, remaining that way for the last year due to Carrie’s mental health. On paper, she had no access to money.
“Yes. Thank you for calling me, Marcy,” I said, making my voice smooth. “I’m with Red Snake Investigations, and we are looking for a young woman. We believe she may have purchased a plane ticket and departed St. Louis last night.”
“Oh. Well—uh—sir, I’m afraid I can’t give you access to that. Unless this is for police business,” she stammered.
She sounded young—inexperienced with men like me. She had no idea what I was capable of. Before I could let my impatience get the best of me, I swallowed it down. I didn’t want to make a mess this early into a case, but there was something about finding the Hale woman that manifested a sense of urgency within me.
Walking out of the bathroom, I went to the bedroom window, my eyes dropping down to the driveway where Amara Harrison was still standing, talking on the phone. “I understand,” I told the girl, my voice even. “However, this is a very important case, and I am asking you to reconsider.”
Marcy was quiet for a moment. “Do you—do you think this girl is in danger?”
My brows rose just a fraction as her question hit me. It was surprising to say the least. “I’m unable to talk about the details of my cases, Marcy,” I told her.
“I was just asking, because a few years ago, my sister…”
I listened to this stranger talk about her older sister having to run from a crazy ex for the next few minutes, not really caring, but I pretended to. Then she asked if this was a similar situation, and of course, the lie fell off my lips so smoothly. “As I said, I can’t go into details, but she could be in danger,” I lied, looking at the bathroom over my shoulder. My jaw jumped. Once. Twice.
It was a lie, but for some reason, I was beginning to wonder if Hale might actually be in danger. The FBI hacker’s words echoed in my mind. There was reason the FBI didn’t want her records unsealed. Her father might have made enemies…
I felt a tug deep down below the darkness, and it had my brows coming together. If she was in danger, it would change everything entirely. This wouldn’t be just a pick up and drop off.
“Okay. I can’t give you access to the camera footage,” Marcy told me, derailing my train of thought.
I shook my head, my jaw tighter than before.
Then, she surprised me once again. “I can tell you that only two planes took off last night due to the incoming storms.”
“Destinations?” I inquired.
“Tokyo with a layover in Denver is the first and the second…” She trailed off as I heard the clicking of her keyboard in the background. “The second was to Portland.”
Fucking hell.
“Thank you very much, Marcy.”
She giggled. “Not a problem, Mr. Grayson. Let me know if there is anything else I can do for you,” she said softly, a flirtatious tone in her voice.
Not on your life, sweetheart.
I ended the call and texted Jake once more.
Me: Pull the airport footage.
Jake: Going by the book doesn’t get you anywhere, does it? ;)
“Apparently not,” I grumbled.
Me: I want that footage in five minutes, Murphy.
Jake: Already pulled, boss. Sending it over now.
I took a deep breath. Of course, he didn’t fucking wait. He never did.
I made my way downstairs, out of the house, and was standing in front of the police chief once more. “Thank you,” I told her, dropping the keys in her hand before putting on my sunglasses.
She looked up at me. “Did you get anything?”
I nodded. “No, but with the vibe I was getting, I don’t blame her for not coming here.”
Amara looked out to the street, her high ponytail hanging down her back. “I remember that day like it was yesterday,” she murmured. “I pulled up and spotted Carrie sitting on the front porch, arms around herself, body trembling.”
I looked back to the front porch, going to the far corner, and in my mind, I saw her, sitting in a chair, uniforms all around her.
“She’d gone to the gym that morning. Back then, she was a tiny little thing. Borderline unhealthy, but she was obsessed with pleasing Robert—and her father, I suppose,” Amara continued, her voice filled with sadness. “That girl never stood a chance.”
My spine straightened as my ears registered what she was saying. “You saying that both Mayor Gelling and Robert were abusive?”
Amara looked back to me, folding her arms over her chest. “There’s a lot we don’t know. Carrie was close with everyone before she got married. According to Leon, she would be at Sullie’s on Sundays with the rest of them.”
Sullie’s was a local bar in Soulard, the resident hang out in the tangled web of St. Louis. Sullie Jones formed and ran the Crew. I, along with the entire team of Red Snake Investigations, knew that Sullie and his partner, Dom, were some of the most powerful men in the Midwest. They had connections and under the table businesses all over.
Sullie's also had damn good food, some of the best I’d ever had—it was the only perk about coming to St. Louis.
“Do you think she was abused by her father, Harrison?” I asked.
Amara looked up at me, her mouth tight. “What I think isn’t the truth, Mr. Grayson. Her father was a monster, and her husband was the city’s golden boy.”
I felt the tug again and, once more, I chose to ignore it.
I looked out to the street for a moment. “I’ve read your report,” I told her, getting back to the day of Carrie’s husband’s murder. “Carrie walked in on that, yes?”
Amara’s eyes dimmed as she nodded. “Then she fainted,” she confirmed.
“I’m going to need the notes on her treatment at the rehab—and anything from the hospital.”
The young police chief nodded. “I’ll get you whatever you need,” she promised.
“Bring it to me in an hour.”
“Where will you be?” she asked.
I started walking away as I answered, “Sullie’s.”
“You need anything else?’ Sullie boomed from the bar.
I looked up from my laptop screen and then to the near empty plate sitting beside it. When I looked back to him, I shook my head once. The bar was nearly empty, the lunch rush having finished up before I’d arrived. The band that was set to play this evening was doing a sound check behind me as I looked over Jake’s email, waiting for Amara to show up.
I’d scarfed down Sullie’s famous wings in half the time I normally would, needing something hot in my stomach, knowing full well that the next time I’d get a hot meal was up in the air.
When I was on the hunt, I didn’t have time to stop and eat. I put my needs behind for the sake of the bounty. After a hunt, of course, I would take a day to rest and refuel before starting up again. It was a constant cycle, one I’d grown accustomed to in the last three years.
My cell rang, vibrating in my pocket as a guitarist strummed some low chord behind me.
“Grayson,” I answered before downing the remainder of my water.
“Ash got you a plane ticket. You leave tonight,” Jake stated.
“Good,” I replied, clicking on the video footage of the airport.
Carrie was standing at the counter, her hood now pulled back. On instinct, I paused the video the second her face was fully revealed. I held my breath, studying her rounded face, straight button nose, and heart-shaped lips before looking at her hair.
I’d never seen anything like it.
Short.
Blonde.
Of course, I’d seen those before.
It was her wild coils that threw me off, popping out of her head in a chaotic assortment of unhinged beauty that made even a man like me stare.
Carrie Hale looked like she’d jumped out of a fairytale, and it annoyed the fuck out of me.
My eyes dropped further, taking in her body as Jake gave me her flight details. Amara had mentioned something about her being tiny before—perhaps she was referring to Carrie being slender.
The Carrie in this video was anything but—and it also infuriated the fuck out of me. She didn’t do a good job of hiding her curves underneath that hoodie, and the leggings she wore clung to her legs like a second fucking skin.
Grinding my teeth, I pressed play on the video and watched her purchase her ticket. She pulled out a small wallet and handed over a credit card.
“I want the details on the card,” I told Jake, interrupting him.
“It’s going to take me a bit, but I’m working on it. I have to hack into their computer system and then go into…” He continued explaining all the hoops he’d have to jump through as I continued to stare at the video of Hale.
When she turned and walked away from the counter, I paused the video and sat back, exhaling through my nose.
“Dominic and Hayes still going over the file?” I asked once Jake was done.
“Yeah.”
“Okay. You do what you have to do and tell Ash to send me every hotel within twenty-five miles of the Portland airport,” I ordered just as Amara Harrison stepped into Sullie’s.
“Roger that,” he muttered before ending the call.
Amara came directly to my table, holding two files.
“Top one is from the hospital, and the second is from her rehab,” she told me.
I nodded, taking the files from her. “Appreciate it,” I said gruffly.
She nodded. “Anything else you need from me?”
“Nope,” I said, opening the file.
“Right. Well, good luck, Mr. Grayson.”
“Never needed it,” I returned.
Seconds later, she walked away, and I heard Sullie’s booming voice as he said goodbye to her. I read the reports over the next half hour, and when I was done, the last place I wanted to go was to Portland, because I reached the conclusion that none of her friends ever would.
Carrie Hale wasn’t running away.
She was starting over.
By the time I left Sullie’s, I was in a worse mood than when I arrived in St. Louis.
I went to the airport, boarded my plane, and headed for Oregon, not knowing that I was about to hit a dead end…