Chapter Twenty
Fresh Corpses, Familiar Doubts, and Frosty Receptions
Nick
“What am I looking at here?” Sam asks, leaning back against his chair in my living room.
“Wha—”
Elliot interrupts me. “What don’t you get? The top row has all the victims.” He walks up to the board and points. “These here are the next possible victims. And the right ones are the Bureau people who were present around the victims at the time of their deaths.” He blinks back at Sam.
“Uh, right. And we’ve made it this complicated to maintain confidentiality in case anyone accidentally finds it?” Sam frowns some more at the board.
I narrow my eyes. “You know I still don’t buy his alibi.” I turn to Elliot. “Can I please arrest him?”
Elliot snorts. “For being stupid? Unfortunately not.”
Sam glares at him. “As the only person with an IQ of one sixty-two in this room, I say we have nothing here.” He gestures toward the board with an open palm.
“No one asked you.” I flop down on the third chair in the room. “But yeah, we’ve got nothing. Keeping an eye on the open Bureau cases has been a bust, too. We won’t be able to keep that on for long.”
Sam adjusts in the chair and looks at Elliot hesitantly.
“What?” I ask.
Elliot sighs. “Sam hacked into some of the cameras around these people’s places. We can keep the surveillance going.”
That fills me with some hope because Meena has already started pulling people back from the case, so it was increasingly becoming a problem to find people available for lookout duties.
Wait. “How did you figure out who we’re investigating?
” I don’t remember sharing that information with either of them.
Sam leans back in the chair. “C’mon, Nickelodeon. I’ll tell you how, and then you’ll get angry, and then we’ll go through the whole cycle again. Do you really want to go through all of that again, a day after your epic reunion with your boyfriend? Aren’t we better than that?”
I narrow my eyes. “You—”
“Didn’t you say something about the Bureau looking for Raymond for decades? What was that all about?” Elliot interrupts me.
I know what he’s doing, but I give in. Because as angry as he makes me, Sam is right. I don’t want to do anything to upset Elliot again. I lean forward on the chair, taking his hand. He doesn’t snatch it away, which is progress. Making Sam uncomfortable is just a bonus.
“I asked Meena to forward me everything we have on him.” She wasn’t happy about doing it without any information. “Apparently, he has a long history of treating humans as disposable. We don’t know if there was any motivation behind all the killings—”
“Power.” Elliot’s eyes meet mine. “He didn’t enjoy the murders themselves. He liked the power he had over his victims. That was his motivation.”
I nod. “I’m sure Meena would love all the insight you can share. Maybe we can find him together after this case is over?” The idea of Elliot actively seeking out a criminal makes my claws itch with the need to stab anyone who looks at him wrong, but I know he needs to hear this.
He smiles at me, one of those rare slight hitches on either side of his lips. It brightens up his entire face. Nodding, he tightens his grip on my hand.
Sam sighs a loud sigh. “So Raymond ran and left Elliot alone because he was running from your super agents? Ugh, you guys are grossly meant to be together.”
***
The surveillance pays off. Another murder happens just two days later, three days before Meena had planned to pull manpower from the case.
I got the call from the off-site agent who was posted outside the victim’s home last night.
He took pictures of every car that went inside the building, as we’ve been doing for the past week.
While he was doing a routine sweep of the victim's floor before his shift ended, he picked up a faint scent of decaying flesh.
I leave my apartment in a rush, thanking all the stars I was working too late on the theft case last night, enough that I didn’t go over to Elliot’s and Mickey spent the night there. I have a feeling I have many late nights ahead of me.
I thought about calling Elliot about the recent development, but dismissed it. He won’t appreciate being woken up at five, even if it is to catch a murderer who’s copying his identity.
I reach the apartment complex in half the time it would have taken me at any time of the day, but Matt's there before me. I park right behind his truck, across the street from the victim’s building.
Matt is leaning against his car, his hands folded across his chest, when I walk up to him. “You know it’s preferable if the agents investigating a murder arrive at the scene alive.”
He laughs, then shakes my hair. “Not all of us drive like a grandma, little bro.”
I shake off his hand before glaring at him as we walk towards the building together.
We stroll in confidently. The guard has already been distracted by a complaint about loud music on one of the floors.
We saunter through the long, expensive-looking reception area with golden sconces and pristine white walls.
Entering the elevator, I push the button for the victim’s floor.
“So what do we know?” Matt asks me as the elevator climbs up.
“Jason caught the scent right before his shift was about to end. So, the man must have been dead for hours. Marcus is already at the apartment.” The elevator stops on the ninth floor.
We make our way to Apartment 906, which we would have found even without the apartment number. I can smell two werewolves, one of whom is very dead, as soon as the elevator doors open.
I twist the doorknob and walk into a clean living room filled with polished wood furniture and dark red accents. Everything about it screams expensive. Matt follows me in and closes the door behind him. We can’t see Marcus or the body anywhere.
Looking around for any lingering evidence, I follow the smells into the bedroom where Marcus is sitting on a chair beside the bed where the copycat killer’s latest victim lies. Lucas Hall. “I know this guy,” I mutter, surprised.
“Yeah?” Matt asks from behind me.
I nod, looking at the face I’d only seen once, but it was hard to miss since the LAPD has been looking for him for over a week regarding the missing prototype case. “His team at the university reported a theft a few weeks ago.”
“Well, then you should definitely search this place.” Marcus joins us at the bedroom door. “The man has been involved in way too many crimes not to have stolen whatever was stolen.”
“Maybe. Do we know the time of death?” I ask. We don’t have much time here before we have to disappear. I can get a warrant for the place after his body is discovered.
“Between ten and twelve hours ago. I’ll know more later, but I’m sure it’s sometime between that,” Marcus says.
Matt takes out his phone. “I’ll tell Bree.” He walks away to make the call.
“We’re sure it’s them?” I ask, even though every single cell in my body knows it is.
Marcus confirms it. “Definitely. I’ll do proper bloodwork when the body comes in later. But it's a heart attack, alright.”
I sigh in relief. It’s almost unbelievable how easy this was. But it makes sense since this new killer is pretty green compared to Elliot and Sam, who’d been at this for almost a decade. Committing murders isn’t easy, and one way or the other, the killer always slips.
Matt comes back a few seconds later. “She’s looking through the pictures. We should have something soon.”
We scatter to look around a bit more without disturbing the place. Matt chooses to stay in the corner watching. In his words, he’s just here to provide moral support, not that I needed any.
By the time we leave, the apartment looks exactly like we found it.
Marcus takes the elevator out, and Matt and I take the stairs in case the killer left something there.
It’s just as clean and white as the reception, right down to the gold railings.
Not even a speck of dust on the floor, let alone whole ass evidence.
A doorman is posted at the door when we reach the reception, but he doesn’t pay us any attention. They rarely do it to anyone who's on their way out. You could be a guest, a cousin, or the resident's late-night entertainment.
We trudge to our cars as I prepare myself for a nap. If I’m in my bed in thirty minutes, I can sleep for three whole hours before I have to get ready for work.
Matt’s phone buzzes just as we reach his car, throwing a wrench into all my plans. “It’s Bree,” he tells me.
Excitement thrums through me even as my sleep is delayed for the foreseeable future. I shamelessly eavesdrop on their conversation. “Hey, what’s—”
“We found him. And yes, it’s a ‘him’. A research student from some university,” Bree speaks fast.
“Can you talk slowly? How do you know it’s him?” Matt asks patiently.
Bree takes an audibly long breath. “Okay, so Cami and I were looking through the pictures. To work fast, you know? We didn't even need to because our victim comes home every day at five p.m. sharp, right? A car entered the building two minutes later. It doesn’t belong to anyone in the building. I checked. And he was in for three hours. It has to be him.”
I snatch the phone from Matt, who glares at me. “How do you know who he is?”
“I was going to ask that too,” Matt mutters. We ignore him.
“I looked up his number plate. I found his ID practically in the first search. I have his address.”
Fuck, yes. “Send it to me.” I disconnect the call and turn to look at Matt’s twin, wide eyes.
“Did we just find the Vigilante Wolf Hunter?”
Or his copycat. But you know, close. “Yes. Fuck, let’s go.”
We take Matt’s truck, leaving mine behind to pick up later. Once I have the killer safely behind bars, once I know Elliot would never talk about leaving me again. Once I know I’ve protected him from ever being caught.
As I feed the address Bree just sent into the GPS, I can’t stop some doubt seeping in through the excitement. Was this too easy? No, we’re just really good. And we were prepared.
I watch the sun rise, and the darkness fade as Matt drives, a low thrum of anticipation filling the car. But something tugs at the back of my mind. “How did a researcher afford a place like that in one of the most expensive cities in the world?” I think out loud.
Matt frowns as he glances at me. “Uh, I don’t know? Maybe his family is rich.”
I let that be enough. Because we finally have him.
Now no one can ever take Elliot away from me.
The roads get more and more deserted as we drive to our destination. Slow music thrums in the car, a song I surprisingly don’t recognize. Matt and I don’t talk much, the anticipation of victory heavy in the car.
I shoot Serena a text that I’ll be late. We had a lead on the prototype theft that we were going to follow up on today. But that can wait. Everything will have to wait.
Bree calls when we’re two minutes out. I’m surprised we even get a signal here considering I haven’t seen another vehicle or house in twenty minutes. “Are you guys on your way?” Her voice filters through the speakers.
“Yeah, we’ll be there soon,” I say.
She murmurs something in the background. “Cami has updated Meena because we know neither of you thought to do that with how you must be vibrating in excitem—”
“We could have informed—”
“Meena said to keep us updated. Sloan and I are on backup.” She continues, completely ignoring me. I was lying anyway. C’mon, we finally have the copycat killer!
“We will,” Matt says before I can argue more. “We’re just about to reach. I’ll call you with an update soon.” Then he disconnects.
When I look out, Matt is parking in front of a pretty dilapidated warehouse.
“What the fuck is this place?” I ask.
Matt turns the engine off. “Definitely not a place you should have on your ID.”
I get out of the car to get a better feel of the place. As soon as I open the door, I sniff out two werewolves inside. “Someone is definitely in, though.”
Matt walks around the car to stand next to me. “You think it’s him?”
I shrug. “Only one way to find out.”
Without another word, Matt and I take out our guns and take the opposite ends of the wide and open steel door. We’ve done this drill a thousand times.
I take a peek inside. A long hallway leading to another smaller door. It’s dark, the only way I see anything is because of my werewolf vision.
I give Matt a quick nod before stepping inside, my gun already trained forward. I hear Matt’s steps follow me.
We walk slowly, listening for any movement. When I reach the door, I stretch out my arm to open it. Before my fingers reach the handle, a siren explodes in my ears.
Pain tears through my skull. The sound claws at my brain, scraping it raw. The world disappears.
I stumble back, desperate to get away. To run. Far, far away. I can't. My knees buckle as if the sound itself knocked them out from under me. Across the hall, Matt is slumped against the wall, his hands clamped over his ears. His eyes are wild.
"What..." I try to speak, but I can't hear my own voice. I can't even feel my tongue. My body turns impossibly heavy. My knees hit first, then I pitch forward. Dirt scrapes my cheek.
"Matt?" I try to call for him, but all I manage is a weak puff of air that stirs the dust.
Then the siren cuts off. The silence is almost worse. Dizziness crashes over me. The last thing I see is a pair of shoes stopping inches from my face.
Then everything goes dark.