Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Gone—gone where? That had been her immediate response because Wren just couldn’t understand. But Jake’s dark features had told her the rest of the story.
Something happened to Makayla. While Wren had been safe in Jake’s arms, someone had taken her friend.
Where was Makayla? And was she even still alive?
“I’m heading to Makayla’s place—now!” Wren had dressed as quickly as she could. Fresh jeans. Blouse. Tennis shoes. All items that had been in her travel bag. She changed and was rushing for the front door at Jake’s beach house, but he moved into her path like the immovable object he tended to be.
Only there wasn’t just one immovable object in her path. There were two. Hunter stood right beside him.
Hunter cleared his throat. “I think the plan is for you to go to a safe house. You go with Jake, and I can try to find out what is happening with your friend.”
Her chin angled toward him. “What’s happening is that Makayla is missing. Makayla—a woman who has never hurt anyone in her entire life—is gone.” She’d felt dread settle in her stomach the minute she’d seen Honey’s name on the phone’s screen. The nightmare wasn’t over. It was just getting worse. Only now, Makayla was involved.
“You don’t know that her disappearance is related to what is happening to you,” Hunter pointed out. “Hell, maybe the woman just got cold feet and decided not to get married. That happens, you know. Brides run away. Pretty sure there have been movies about that very scenario.”
The faint lines near Jake’s mouth deepened. He shook his head. “The woman didn’t run away. Honey said there was blood at the scene. Signs of a struggle.”
Hunter sucked on the inside of his cheek. “Okay. So, yeah, that looks bad.”
She gaped at him. “It looks more than bad! It looks like my friend has been abducted, and I’m not just going to sit here and do nothing to help her!” She lunged around the men.
Only her lunge didn’t get her particularly far because Jake caught her by the shoulders and stopped her. “What are you going to do, Wren?” Soft.
“I’m going to the scene.” Step one. Not like she had a whole drawn-out plan yet. “I want to talk to her fiancé, to Tom.” That seemed like a good starting point. “I want to see what evidence Honey discovered.” All good things to do, right?
“I can do all of that,” Hunter offered. “And you can go with Jake. Go get tucked away in a nice, secure safe house. I’ll report back as soon as I know anything.”
They wanted to tuck her away. Check. Got it. But this was her friend, and running while Makayla was in danger seemed like one really shitty thing to do.
Her father would have said it was a normal move. Survival. And you always had to put your own survival first, according to him. Friends would turn on friends. Lovers would turn on lovers.
Screw you, you bastard. “I’m going to Makayla’s. And unless you two are planning to kidnap me,” she jerked away from Jake, “you will not be stopping me.”
Hunter nodded. “Okay, kidnapping is an option we can put on the table. Not my first choice, of course, but if it gets the job done?—”
“You’re not touching her,” Jake snapped out. His gaze didn’t leave Wren’s face. “Where you go, I go.” His nostrils flared. “Let’s see what we can learn about your friend, but you never leave my sight.”
“This isn’t some big trap,” she threw at him. “Taking Makayla would not do anything to you. Her disappearance doesn’t hurt you in any way! She’s my friend.” This wasn’t about him.
“Yeah, and you’re pretty much his everything.” Hunter shrugged. “So I can see where this goes straight back to Jake.”
“What?” The man was delusional. Had to be.
“Shut the hell up,” Jake groused to Hunter. “And just follow us to the scene, would you? Stay sharp. Maybe this is an attempt to lure us all right out in the open.”
“Exactly, and that’s why we should not just go trotting right out into the open, but you clearly have a problem telling the woman no. Dude, just say no. Watch me do it. No. See?”
Wren squinted at him. “Do you have issues we need to know about?”
Hunter waved a hand toward Wren even as he told Jake, “She offered to let you kidnap her. It is a viable option, especially if her safety is what matters the most to you. Take her away. I’ll help you.”
She realized that Hunter was completely serious. He thought Jake should kidnap her and they should what—abandon Makayla? “Who are you?” she demanded.
“Clearly, the only one with sense here.” Hunter crossed his arms over his chest. “If you were mine, there wouldn’t be a discussion. You’d be over my shoulder and in the car as I got you the hell out of here in record time.”
She had to pick her jaw off the floor.
Jake moved her, deliberately tugging her to his side. “Hey, asshole,” he said, voice pleasant—well, pleasant only if pleasant could cut like a knife, “she’s not yours. She’s mine. Mine. And we’re going to find out about her friend because Makayla matters to Wren. What matters to Wren matters to me. Got it?”
“Got it.” A twist of Hunter’s lips. “Let’s just hope this doesn’t explode in our faces. My orders were to get you two in a safe house. Not to parade around town, but sure, whatever, let’s do things your way.”
Enough of this. “We’re wasting time.” She barreled for the door.
Jake beat her, of course. He went out first, checking the area. No one was around. No danger lurking. No crowd of reporters intent on dragging out her twisted past for the world to see. Though, if Hunter was right, the throng of reporters would be showing up soon enough.
They jumped in the Jeep. She grabbed her seatbelt and clicked it into place.
Jake reached out and curled his fingers under her chin. His touch was careful. “If danger comes at you, I will kidnap you in order to keep you safe.”
“No, you wouldn’t.” He was bluffing. She wouldn’t buy it.
“Yes, sweetheart, I would.” He didn’t even blink. “If it meant protecting you, I’d do anything. Even if you hated me for the choices I had to make.”
Chaos. That was what she found at Makayla’s house. Deputies rushed everywhere. Honey stood on the porch. When Wren rushed toward her, she realized that Honey was holding some sort of plastic bag in her left hand. White fabric—darkened to red in spots—filled the inside of that clear bag.
“I need a crime scene team,” Honey shouted into her phone as she pressed it to her ear with her right hand. “Hell, yes, I get that I’m not FBI any longer. I don’t care. I want the best you can send. I’ve got a woman missing. I’ve got blood. I’ve got an abduction that happened while her fiancé slept in the same house with her. Get me resources. ” Her eyes locked on Wren. Widened. She ended the call, shoved the phone into her pocket, and thrust the plastic bag at the deputy to her left. “What in the hell are you doing here?” she demanded of Wren.
Wren’s gaze lingered on the plastic bag. “Is that a veil?” It looked like a wedding veil inside the bag. A bloody wedding veil.
“It was in the bed with me this morning.” Tom’s wooden voice.
Tom sat on the second porch step. Wren hadn’t even noticed him until that moment. She’d been too intent on reaching Honey. Tom’s hands dangled between his knees, and his shoulders bowed forward as he hunched. “I reached for Makayla when I woke up.” He swallowed. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I touched it. Felt like a big spider web beneath my fingers. I opened my eyes, and the veil was there, and then I saw the blood.” Another swallow. “I shouted for Makayla. She didn’t answer.” He blinked. Looked at his hands. “She didn’t answer.”
“Wren, you shouldn’t be here.” Honey was adamant. “This is a crime scene, and I?—”
“I want to go inside.”
Honey snorted. “And I want a million dollars for Christmas, but that shit ain’t happening.” She bustled forward. Hopped down the steps. “Crime. Scene.” A wave toward Jake. “You know this stuff. You know how it works. She can’t just parade inside when I need a team to look and find out what happened to our vic. She should not be here.”
“I tore through the house,” Tom cut right over Honey’s words as if she hadn’t been speaking. Maybe he hadn’t even realized that anyone was talking.
Wren thought he seemed lost in shock and grief.
“The room where she’d been storing her wedding dress…” He licked his lips. “There was blood all over her wedding dress. The thing was slashed to pieces.” His eyes squeezed shut. “ Is my Makayla slashed to pieces? How did I sleep through all of that? How did I not hear something?”
“Good damn question,” Honey muttered.
Wren caught the mutter. But then, she thought maybe Honey had wanted her to catch it.
Honey mouthed, Be careful to Wren and Jake.
Surprise rolled through Wren. What was happening? Hold on, did Honey think Tom could be involved in Makayla’s disappearance? Tom could be uptight, prickish, sure, but he loved Makayla.
Love is a lie. In the end, we all put ourselves first. Another lesson from her father.
Her gaze lingered on Tom.
His head suddenly shot up. His eyes—bright blue—locked right on her. It was as if he’d just realized she was there. “This is your fault.” He jumped to his feet. Tom flew off the steps and came right at her, stabbing his index finger in the air toward Wren. “You did this!”
Jake stepped right in front of her. “You need to settle your ass down.”
Tom drew up short.
Wren peeked over Jake’s shoulder at Tom.
“Wren did not do anything to Makayla,” Jake stated very, very definitely. “She’s here because she’s worried about her friend. I happen to have some expertise in the area of kidnappings—worked more than my share of these scenes. I can look around and see if anything stands out to me. I’m here to offer my help. Wren and I are both here to help.”
Tom’s ragged breathing sawed in and out. “Wren was the target.”
What?
His head tilted as he peered around Jake to see her. “She told me—you were attacked twice. If someone is after you, then why is my Makayla gone?”
I don’t know. But we will get her back. They had to get Makayla back.
“This might not be related to the attacks on Wren,” Honey informed him, voice brisk. “It’s far too early to make any sort of assumption. I told you that already. Now, listen. Listen. I’m pulling in my contacts at the Bureau. We are going to conduct a thorough investigation. We will find Makayla.”
A shudder shook Tom’s long, lean body. “But will she be alive?” He raked a hand over his face. He wore blue pajama pants. Nothing else. Even his feet were bare. “Is she alive?” He licked his lips once again. “Hostage rescue.” Another heavy breath. “Yeah, yeah, I know that’s what you do, Jake. Maybe someone took my Makayla hostage. You have to rescue her.” Now he grabbed Jake. “Go in the house.”
“That’s what I was damn well trying to do,” Jake rumbled.
Wren stepped to the side so she could see everyone a bit better. Was that—was that blood on Tom’s pajama pants?
“Search the house. Find clues,” Tom pushed Jake forward. “Scooby-Doo that shit. Whatever you need. Get Makayla back. ”
Honey cleared her throat. “This is a crime scene. Jake isn’t going inside because he’s a civilian. He’s staying out.”
“I want him in!” Tom’s face mottled.
“It’s not really about what you want,” Honey returned, hands on her hips. “It’s about doing things the right way. Making sure that Makayla has every advantage. And that we don’t mess up the investigation.”
Tom whirled on her. “It’s about bringing her home! He does this stuff, right? He just said he did! I’ve read stories—heard the tales in town! He brings people back. When the authorities give up, he gets them home! I want my Makayla home.”
“This isn’t exactly what he does,” Honey mumbled.
“Let him look,” Tom urged, words almost feverish. “Let him just see if he can find something to lead us to my Makayla. Please.” A gulp. “I’ll donate as much money as you want to the sheriff’s department. I will do anything you need. Just— I need Makayla back. ”
“Are you trying to bribe me right now?” Honey wanted to know.
“Please!”
Honey glanced over at Jake. Then Wren. She motioned for the nearby deputy to get lost. He did. Then, huffing, she said, “You come in with me. You touch nothing. You see something that stands out, you tell me.” Another hard huff. “Come on, now. Before sanity asserts itself again and I change my mind.”
Jake tangled his fingers with Wren’s and hauled her toward the house. As soon as they crossed over the threshold, Honey very firmly shut the front door.
Silence.
Honey stared at Jake. Then Wren. “Did I make that scene look grudging enough? Trying not to look too eager, you know.”
Wren frowned at her.
“I’m former BAU, I clearly know my crime scenes. Damn well don’t need anyone else’s eyes on it to give me a profile or an idea of what went down.” She rolled her eyes. “I do need techs to dust for prints and collect DNA. So seriously, don’t touch shit.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “But I wanted you to take a look, to make sure I’m not going completely crazy…”
She bustled past them.
To the right.
To the room that Wren knew housed Makayla’s dress because Makayla had excitedly shown it to her just days before. Honey pulled on gloves near the door. Then she swung that door open. Jake stepped forward.
“No.” A sharp denial from Honey. “I want Wren in first. She’s the one I need seeing this, not you, Jake. Not that I don’t think your hostage skills are top-notch but…again, I know how to create a profile. I’m no amateur. That’s not what this little tour is all about.”
Wren’s stomach twisted as she stepped inside. The first thing she saw was Makayla’s beautiful wedding dress. Not hanging up so lovingly any longer. On the floor. Sliced to pieces. Splattered with blood.
Her hand flew to her mouth.
“Don’t faint on me,” Honey warned. “Do some deep breathing or shit like that.”
She wasn’t going to faint. At least, hopefully, she would not. Wren inched inside the room.
“Tom admitted to knocking over the table. Said he even grabbed her wedding gown. Or what’s left of it. That’s why he had blood on his fingers and his pajama pants.”
“Is that why?” Jake asked, no emotion in his voice.
Wren glanced back at him. “You can’t suspect Tom.”
“He was in the house. Didn’t wake up despite all of this.” Honey waved her hand around. “Jake isn’t the only one with Tom on a suspect list.”
Wren’s gaze slid back to the dress. Makayla had been so excited about that dress. She’d flown to New York in order to buy it.
“Maybe Tom saw an opportunity,” Honey mused. “All the trouble with you…maybe he figured he could use it to his advantage and get rid of an inconvenient fiancée.”
Wren crept forward. “She’s not inconvenient. She’s the woman he loves.”
“Didn’t think you believed in love,” Honey noted.
“Love makes you weak,” she said, the words coming as if by rote. “Or, at worst, it makes you crazy. Just like my fa—” Wren stopped. Blinked. Because she’d just caught the light on the windowsill. All of the breath left her in a sudden surge as she lurched toward that light.
Makayla’s ring. The rock that Jennifer had envied. It sat there, nestled against the base of the window as it perched on the windowsill. Sunlight hit the big diamond and made light burst out like a shooting star. “Oh, God.” This couldn’t be happening. Wren shook her head. “No.”
“Her ring was left behind,” Jake said. “Okay, guessing it will be bagged and tagged just like everything else in here. Maybe all of the blood isn’t hers. Could be that her attacker nicked himself in the fight. Good call on pulling in the FBI’s crime scene analysts. They’ll push through the work one hell of a lot faster than any local team ever could. Maybe you’ll get a hit in the system.”
Wren couldn’t look away from the ring. “He always left the rings behind. That wasn’t in the papers. The authorities kept it out deliberately.” Another lurching step toward the ring. “Uncle Milo told me once that it was his signature. My fa—the killer said it was his way of showing the world that the relationship was over. That it was never real in the first place. The rings bind, but now they’ve been severed.” Her eyes squeezed closed. “He cut off their fingers. That was what he always did. That’s what happened here, too. That’s what happened to Makayla. Why there is so much blood.” She whirled. Glared at her friend. “You knew it was him, Honey. You spouted that crap about suspecting Tom, when all the while you knew it was?—”
“It’s not your father, Wren.” Soft. Honey’s features showed her sympathy. No, her pity. “He’s dead, remember?”
Dead. Dead. “I need to see his body.” Something she’d wanted to do from the first moment she’d heard he was gone. “Maybe there is a mistake.” Her gaze jumped to a watchful Jake. “This is him.” Jake would believe her. “You and Eb were wrong. What’s happening is about my past. It’s about my father.” It had never been about the brothers. She rushed toward Jake. “He would leave the rings behind. When my father took his victims, he left their rings. Her ring is left behind. All of this blood—he cut off her finger. That’s what he did.” Sucking in a breath, she fought the nausea that boiled through her blood. I will not faint. I will not faint. “The general public never learned about this part. The Feds kept it quiet. It has to be him—don’t you see? He’s not dead. He’s here. He’s been playing with me. He took Makayla. This is him. ”