Chapter 27 Locke
LOCKE
Back at The Kendrick Group I was sent to Leo’s domain while Nyx whisked Priscilla away to get cleaned up and into new clothes.
When I walked in both Leo and Dom were talking by the windows.
My gut twisted. I hadn’t seen Dom since the day we buried Milligan.
He turned. There was some gray at his temples since the last time I’d seen him. I had a feeling I’d given him a few of those. He crossed to me and shocked me when he dragged me forward in a hard, clasping hug.
“Asshole.”
I slapped his back in return. “Dom. Been awhile.”
“You sure know how to come out of hiding, you son of a bitch.”
“I know. Thanks for taking Cilla on.”
“As if we’d say no.” He stepped back and crossed his arms. “You look better than the last time I saw you. Wish I had that tan.”
Leo came up to stand by his brother. Where Leo was dark swept back hair with icy blue eyes, Dom was crinkled hazel eyes from smiling and a thousand dollar haircut to tame his curls into something close to professional.
Both of them former military, but they’d come out with very different personalities.
Leo was ruthless to Dom’s diplomatic.
“You were taking off, weren’t you?” Leo crossed his arms.
“I was.”
I wasn’t about to lie. When it came to Priscilla, there was no way I was putting her in danger—even if that meant we went into deep hiding.
“Dante found a bug on your ship.”
“What? Where?”
“He took a dip and checked the integrity of the hull, then on a hunch decided to check the whole damn thing and found something on the underside of the...is it a bridge deck?”
“Son of a bitch.”
“It was small—at first he thought it was a barnacle or whatever sticks to a boat.” Leo shrugged. “There was a reason I sent Dante, but I thought I was being paranoid.”
I raked my fingers through my hair. “Well, that makes two of us. I want you to check on a boat that came to help us. Something felt off about them. I get that the boating community can be helpful, but I don’t know. Something was hinky.”
Dom snickered. “Haven’t heard that word in a minute.” He rocked back on his heels much like Leo. “But I usually agree with your instincts. Send the boat details to me and I’ll check out who it’s registered to.”
I nodded. “How bad was the body?”
“Right down to it, huh?” Dom gestured for me to go over to the screens set up. “It was bad enough for Stone to get his captain to finally get the feds involved. They swept in and took over of course, but Nyx hacked the Salem PD and got the files before they locked everything down.”
I fisted my hands at my sides. “Let me see it.”
“It’s vile,” Leo said darkly.
The screens showed a series of crime scene photos. When Leo had warned me that the woman looked just like Priscilla, he wasn’t kidding. From the high cheekbones and dark eyes to the blond hair and height they could have been sisters.
The victim’s dark eyes were wide open and unseeing.
The ropes were similar to the ones I remembered from the night I’d saved Cilla, but this time the knots were even more intricate.
They marched down her forearms and cinched tight at her wrists with the thick marina rope. She was splayed open with her skirt up.
Even the dress was similar to Cilla’s.
Had he waited that long to find to someone perfect, or had he dressed her up before he killed her?
The pool of blood was in the same spot, and he’d cut the woman’s femoral artery as well.
This time he hadn’t stopped at the binding and murder, he’d also assaulted this girl. Hell, she was barely a woman. She was a bit younger than Cilla even if she was nearly identical.
The bastard had positioned her exactly in the same spot.
Leo tapped the remote he was holding. “They found another woman this afternoon.”
“Jesus.” I scrubbed at my face, the photos burned into my memory. “That’s a helluva acceleration.”
“It’s a different location.” He flicked through the photos. “It was actually on the beach, under the pier so she wasn’t found right away. They think she was actually killed the day before Hillary Thomas.”
The blond hair was evident even with the sand and seaweed marring her head and body. A summery dress, not quite the same as the victim from the wharf but damn close.
He used the piles from the pier to stretch her out.
I shut my eyes, seeing Priscilla there instead of this girl. “Who is she?”
Her name deserved to be remembered.
“Lauren Emory. She was a Boston University student.”
“What was she doing in Salem?” I turned to Leo.
“From what Stone has found, she was actually from Beverly, Mass. It’s not far enough away from Salem to raise a ton of flags, but now that the feds are involved they are building a case.”
“It’s a bit harder for Nyx to dig into the FBI database. I don’t want her to chance it if she doesn’t have to.” Dom took the remote from Leo and darkened the screens.
I paced away. “He brought her there. Posed her to be found.”
“He can’t get to Priscilla so he’s recreating it again and again.” Leo’s voice was even but there was an underlying rage.
I recognized it in myself.
“He’s not getting to her.”
“We’ll make sure of it.” Dom gripped my shoulder. “For now I want you two in one of the tower apartments.” He handed me a key card. “Tenth floor, unit six.”
I took it. “Thanks.” I met his gaze. “And thanks for not showing Cil those photos.”
“She’s got enough trauma to deal with in the attack. She doesn’t need that added to it.”
“No.”
“Don’t keep her in the dark. I know it feels safer to shield her. You don’t need to give her all the details, but loop her in.”
I nodded.
“Nina brought her to the apartment already.” Leo folded his arms. “I don’t know what the hell we’re going to do, but maybe we can pull Stone in tomorrow to talk to him. He’s on the task force, but the FBI is leading.”
I just hoped there wasn’t another body by morning.
“Get some rest.” Dom gave me a tight smile. “Glad you’re back.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to deny it, but he was right. I couldn’t hide on that damn boat any longer; this jackass made sure of that. He was tired of waiting us out and made sure to get her back where he wanted her.
I nodded and headed down to the apartments. The Kendrick Group had a number of overseas employees, and it was easier to put them up at the tower than to find hotels.
The tenth floor was like a high-end apartment building with thick carpet for insulation as well as soundproofing. Apartment six was at the end of the hall and when I let myself in, the first thing I noticed was the gut punch of a view of the Boston Harbor.
It had a sizable living room with a sectional couch, television on the wall, and small dining area by the window.
The kitchen was small, but serviceable with a full-sized stove, fridge, and microwave.
A narrow kitchen island held the sink and afforded a bit of counterspace.
A familiar white takeout bag from a nearby Italian restaurant sat by the sink.
Nyx probably ordered it in. She was always trying to feed someone.
I followed the hallway off the living room to the back of the apartment. I heard a feminine laugh and knocked on the door before peering inside.
Nyx turned with a smile. “There you are. I have clothes for you too. The ones in her suitcase aren’t going to work.”
I rolled my eyes. “Thanks, Nyx.”
“Take care of my girl.” She patted my chest as she walked through the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Cilla,” she called out as she left.
Cilla was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the king-sized bed. She was freshly showered, wearing black yoga pants and a soft purple sweater that dipped off her shoulder to show off a strappy tank underneath. “She’s a force, huh?”
“To say the least.”
“She practically pushed me into the shower as soon as we got here. I must have looked a real mess.”
I sat on the side of the bed. “It’s been a damn long day.”
Her eyes swam. “He killed someone didn’t he? Nyx wouldn’t tell me anything. She said you wanted to be the one to tell me.”
I moved up the bed so I could take her hand. “Let me take a quick shower and we’ll talk about it.”
She nodded. “Fine. I’ll go put together that food.” She slid off the bed, and I caught her hand before she could walk by.
“We’re going to figure this out.”
She nodded and quickly left.
I needed a few minutes to get my head on straight after seeing those photos. While I didn’t mind the shower on the catamaran, the jets and water pressure of the apartment beat away some of the sick in my stomach and the headache brewing behind my eyes.
I found a pair of black sleep pants and T-shirt waiting for me on the chair near the bed. The sharp scent of spicy ravioli led me to where Cilla had reheated the take out and plated it for us with a bottle of wine breathing on the counter.
“Feel better?”
I crossed to her and wrapped my arm around her, stilling her busy hand with my free hand. “Looks good. Smells even better.”
She gripped the counter. “You can’t keep shutting me out.”
“I know. I don’t want to scare you.” I pushed her hair over her shoulder and pressed a kiss to her nape.
“What I’m coming up with in my head is probably just as bad.”
I doubted it. “Let’s eat and I’ll give you the highlights.”
“I want all of it.”
I turned her around. “You really don’t. And that’s not me being just protective.”
Her eyes shimmered. “That bad?”
I took the two plates. “Grab the utensils and wine.”
She sighed, but did as I asked. She sat across from me at the small round table. “You know, the fact that the room isn’t moving is actually has me more off balance more than I was expecting.”
“You took to your sea legs.” I poured the wine and waited for her to at least take a few bites.
“Talk.”
I sighed. “Well, the hole in the hull was definitely a small explosive device. Dante gave the boat a once over, including the outside of the boat.”
She frowned. “Wait—like a bomb?”
“A small one.”
“It’s still a bomb, Locke.”
“And he also found a tracking device.”
She covered her mouth then lifted her glass for a long swallow. “He knew where we were the whole time?”
“It looks like it.”
She got up and paced with her wine glass. “All that time he just wanted to know where I was. When did he even do it?”
“It could have been any time after I visited you in the hospital. It’s not like the wharf has great security.” I forked up a ravioli, and the spicy vodka sauce reminded me of long work days with my crew. “I’m pretty sure he was in your hotel room as well.”
She whirled around. “What?”
“I couldn’t prove it, but when I packed up your shit it felt like someone had been there. It could have been the maid, but after finding that tracker I can’t be sure.” My stomach dropped as I pushed my chair back and stood. “Son of a bitch.” I hurried back to the bedroom and found her suitcase.
She followed, hovering outside the doorway. “What are you doing?”
I flipped it open and felt around the seams of the inner zipper compartments then felt the AirTag. “Fuck.” I held up the tag. “Do you have an AirTag on your suitcase?”
She shook her head. “I always meant to get one, but no.”
I put it on the little table by the club chair and smashed it, then pulled out the battery for good measure. “He was tracking you regardless.”
“Does that mean he knows where I am now?”
“No.” I hurried over to her and held her cold hands. “The tower has things that safeguard against that. It wouldn’t allow the AirTag to be picked up once you entered the building.”
“But outside—”
I lowered my mouth to hers and kissed her softly. “He can’t get to you here.”
Cilla gripped the front of my T-shirt. “Tell me the rest.”
She was already freaked out, but I knew she’d find out from one of the team. I smoothed my hands down her arms and led her back out into the living room. I didn’t want to tell her in the bedroom. She needed one safe place that wasn’t tainted by this bullshit.
I sat her down on the sectional, then went over for her wine and brought it back to her. I found a beer in the fridge for myself.
“He may have been keeping tabs on us, but I don’t know if he wasn’t able to travel or maybe he even has a day job that prevents it.”
She made a humming sound. “I didn’t think about that. The normalcy of his real life versus what he’s been doing.”
“Yeah. Profiling isn’t my wheelhouse.”
“There’s still more you’re not telling me.”
I cupped my hand around her knee. “He’s killed again.”
Her hand shook as she set down her glass. “He did?”
I rubbed her leg. “Twice.”
“Oh, God.” The tears spilled down her cheeks silently. “Because of me.”
“No. Because he’s a piece of shit. It’s not because of you.”
“Because he can’t get to me.”
I set my untouched beer down and pulled her into my arms. “Because he’s sick.” I kissed her temple, then her tearstained cheeks. “Because he can’t get what he wants. And he’s not getting through me. He’s never getting to you.”
“You can’t know that.”
I settled her on top of me until she straddled me. She drew in a quick breath as her muscles stretched. “Is this okay?”
She nodded. “Yes.” She pressed her face to my neck and encircled my shoulders. “Don’t let me go.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
I rubbed her back until she finally relaxed.
She didn’t know The Kendrick Group version of me. She knew the obsessive fucked-up grief-stricken man, but she didn’t know the focused part of me that was damn good at my job.
I’d be that man again for her.
I had no fucking choice.