Chapter 34 Winona Bishop #2
“Hey, Baby.” He pauses, looking directly at the camera, and I feel his gaze piercing my soul, even though it’s a video.
My muscles harden. My jaw locks. “Remember that I told you to slay your demons. I need to slay mine. I chased these people for three years because they threatened your existence. And when they threaten you, they threaten me. Your grandma not only sent me to protect you, she made sure I would be the one to end the suffering that brought you and me to her door. That’s why I told Mitch and Braxton to take you back home to your grandma.
A helicopter will arrive at the spot in the forest where we landed—they know where, and the pilot’s name is Phoenix.
Go. Don’t look for me. Please. I have to do this. ”
No.
The lump in my throat becomes tighter.
“I’m sorry, Winona. For all the pain you endured, for everything. This time, I deserve to die, and you deserve to live.”
“No, that’s not true.” I choke on the words, cupping my mouth. He’s breaking my heart again. He promised he wouldn’t do it.
My shoulders shake, and my heart aches with an unbearable pain that makes my hands tremble.
“Shh, that’s okay,” Reeve says as if he could hear me. “I’m ready. Just let me go this time.”
If you die, I die. It’s all or nothing.
“I never wanted to leave you. If I could do it all over again with you, every moment we’ve shared, I would—every single time. In every lifetime. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I would crawl to the end of the world and back if I had to; if it meant I could keep you for eternity.”
“Why is he doing this?”
“Because… that was the only way.” Reeve pauses. “I had to trade my life for yours.”
I don’t want him to trade anything.
“He wanted me. He went after you because he knew how important you are to me, and losing you would’ve wrecked me.
You were free the moment we set foot in this place.
Larson must have followed us from the party, probably on his own, when he recognized you.
He’s had a vendetta since college because you rejected him and chose me. ”
But why does the big boss want Reeve?
Why do all this for some random person without a connection to him?
Reeve went after them when they threatened to kill me.
It doesn’t add up.
“Thank you for loving me. I love you, Winona.” The video ends with his glossy eyes gazing into mine, and a warm, genuine smile spreading across his outrageously gorgeous face.
A tear rolls down my cheek, and I wipe it away with the back of my hand.
“We’re supposed to bomb the facility once we leave,” Mitch says.
“You supposed to what?” I bark. “Not on my watch. Not with him inside.”
A new wave of determination surges through me, fueling my body and pumping my heart anew.
“Who’s the boss?” I demand, and they stay silent. I hear the crickets outside louder than I hear their breaths. “Who’s the boss?” I press, grinding my teeth.
“At first, we thought he was a prisoner,” Mitch finally says. “That’s why we wasted months trying to find out who he was while you were in the towers. There were a few prisoners whose identities aren’t known.”
“Everyone who goes there is a known criminal with a record.”
“Not everyone, and if you have connections, everything’s possible. You can make a record disappear and erase a person from existence. But he is not a prisoner,” Braxton claims.
“He is an operator,” I state, connecting all the dots.
“I assume he is quiet. Calculated. Playing nice.”
Wait.
What if it’s someone who used to work with Grandma?
What if he’s also a cop?
“Damn it, Winona, what did I say?” She spins around to face me, furious as usual, shooting me a look that makes my stomach turn. For a fleeting moment, her expression softens before turning hard again. “I’m looking for a guy. I was hoping to find him.”
“What does he look like?” I hesitate.
“I don’t know,” she admits in a harsh tone. “I know his name is James. That’s all.”
James.
James… I heard that name before.
I gulp as I tiptoe toward her door. It’s closed, but her muffled shouts break the silence as I press my ear to the door and listen to her heated conversation.
“I didn’t turn my life upside down to watch Winona being taken by the evil bastards who took her in the first place.
” Her tone is crisp and authoritative, yet impatient.
“Winona was only twelve when the Halloween Killers started to kill for show. Do you think it was just serial killers having fun? It was a message to me. Someone ensured that a man was killed in front of my little girl, like an animal. I don’t care what you do or how you do it.
Just find them. It’s been six years. They will come after her; it’s just a matter of time. ”
Who was behind the clown mask in the circus?
They said they have a boss.
I round the tent, hiding behind a large sign with the circus logo—Carnage Trolls in cursive gold lettering—and a list of shows.
“James won’t be happy about this,” says one man to the other. “But he was a liability anyway. Now help me put him in a body bag.”
James... the guy Grandma was searching for.
That James…
They grab my chin roughly, forcing me to watch as the clown pours gasoline over my bodyguard and pulls a matchbox from his pocket.
“Doesn’t it look pretty?” he asks in a sadistic tone. “That’s not something you see every day. Enjoy the show.” He lights a match and flicks it at the body, setting it on fire.
Enjoy the show.
Those words.
All the hundreds of notes I collected are spread out on the counter. I sift through them until I find the one I’m looking for.
Flames licking the darkness of the night create the best final show.
Holy shit.
It was right in front of me.
“Is there an operator named James?” I ask Braxton, tapping my fingers on the counter. “Probably someone older than us.”
I watch the laptop screen as he enters his name into BLACKBIRD’s data software. The name appears with an old, pixelated picture—no last name.
“He’s probably someone from the force. Romina doesn’t update their information very often because she knows them personally. They usually work undercover, so she doesn’t make this info available to everyone,” Braxton says. “However, it does say he’s fifty-seven.”
“That’s gotta be him.” I move away from the counter, pacing back and forth as I replay the day Reeve died.
I go beneath the yellow tape, Police Line Do Not Cross. Titan walks beside me, alert.
The gritty feel of sand covers my skin.
Reeve’s burnt bike is gone. The grim parking lot looks like a set for an action movie scene that was shot last night and disappeared by morning.
Cinders cover the asphalt sporadically, ashes rolling around them.
He can’t be dead.
I don’t believe that.
Last night was my birthday, Halloween. We watched our favorite movies, had an amazing dinner Reeve made for us, played with Titan, and made love until he had to leave.
I glance around, and my eyes land on a man with a trench coat and Oxford shoes across from me. An unsettling feeling twists inside me. He looks at me, brings his cigarette to his mouth, and lights it.
I zoom in on the lighter in his hand—the same one Grandma has.
I wouldn’t miss it.
Titan barks, but not as aggressively as he would toward someone who heads in my direction.
“Good job, boy,” I praise, petting his head. “Sit.”
Titan sits squarely, eyes still on the man, ears perked up, chest puffed out.
Warning flashes in his eyes.
The man walks toward me in a carefree way, giving off a relaxed vibe. A police badge hangs from his neck, and a faint smile pulls at the corners of his mouth.
“Good morning, ma’am. I’m Detective James Moore, criminal investigations division. I’m here to investigate your husband’s case. Can we have a word?”
It was all staged, meaning he’s working for my grandma. Reeve said they were operators.
“We think that the notes mean something,” Mitch draws my attention back to the counter, where he rearranges the notes.
“It’s a game that someone plays to mess with my mind,” I reply.
“It’s more than that,” Braxton continues. “We don’t think it’s just about you and whoever sent them.”
“What do you mean?”
“Think about it. They love to play games,” Mitch suggests, brushing his short stubble. “They created murder games for their victims. What’s next?”
My eyes widen. “Most of the notes were whimsical. Then it started to seem like a dare, like they’re trying to get me to act a certain way. Then I was attacked. Whoever did this knew it was going to happen.”
“There is going to be an attack,” Braxton concludes, dragging his thumb across his lip ring.
“Where?” Mitch asks, running his tatted fingers through his hair in frustration. “He is a powerful man who has connections worldwide.”
I settle on the stool beside the small island. “Obviously, if he manipulated everyone and created a criminal underground world under my grandma’s nose.”
“Do you really think your grandma didn’t know about this?” Braxton asks cautiously. “She knows everything.”
“But she doesn’t know where he will attack or how, so she has to prepare all her teams and facilities in advance. He’s not working alone. She may suspect he is a traitor, but she doesn’t know who he’s involved with.” I cough and take a deep inhale. “We’re the bait.”
“More like a distraction,” Mitch corrects.
“Maybe,” Braxton adds. “But that means we might not stop the attack on time.”
“We’re not here to stop it,” I note. “We’re here to stall it. I guess you were right. It’s a game of survival.”
A hush falls over the room.
“There better not be zombies in that hellhole,” Mitch exclaims, stepping back to wash his face in the sink. Braxton glances at me, barely holding his smile as he rolls his eyes.
I bite back my laughter as well.
“I need you to take me there.” I stand up, and the room starts spinning. I fall back onto the stool. “Oh, shit.” I cradle my head.