Chapter 33 #2
He patted his belly. “You can probably tell I don’t like those artificial sweeteners.”
Coffees in hand, I led him to demo room two. It was the farthest room from the back of the office and, without a window in the door, more private than the conference rooms. “How long will this take?”
“It depends,” he answered as I shut the door behind us.
Zane
All morning long, I’d watched Peyton, feeling alternating joy that I had her in my life and dread that the Strangler was still after her.
When O’Connor arrived, he’d confirmed he was armed when I asked if he could help out with protection if needed.
When the door closed on the demo room and I lost sight of Peyton, the air felt suddenly colder. She had become a ray of light in my life after all the shit I’d been through.
All morning, I’d watched her, reveling in how she’d taken over my thoughts, and a worry niggled at me. What would happen when the target had been eliminated and she was free of danger? I shoved it aside. Nothing could be allowed to distract me while we were stalking the target—nothing.
I walked to the edge of the office space where I could look out the window overlooking the street.
“Where are you, asshole?” I asked in a low voice, pretending I was in a skyscraper and could look out over the city like in a movie.
This was only the fourth floor, so I couldn’t see squat, but the answer I got back from the ether was just like in the movies—not a damned thing.
Until now, the Strangler had been out there feeling secure in his anonymity, planning his moves, and we’d been forced to react. This was a new day, and it felt good to finally be on offense with Jordy’s program.
Another message with a photo came in from Jordy, and I waited for Peyton’s verdict on the face.
ANGEL: Not him.
Sooner or later, she’d tell us we’d found the guy, and it would only be a matter of us chasing him down.
It might not be acceptable in certain social circles, but I hoped the asshole had a gun and drew it on me so I could put a permanent end to his reign of terror.
That would save the citizens of Massachusetts a lot of money in trial and prison expenses.
My doubts resurfaced. Whichever way the takedown ended, Peyton wouldn’t need my protection any longer, and before, when the detective had asked if she was looking forward to returning to her old life, her answer had been “of course.”
With her previous career and network of friends in Boston, why would she want to stay here if she didn’t have to?
Also, her physical therapy license was in Massachusetts, not here.
Regardless of how great a boss Grace was, she had to want to return to that line of work rather than remain a personal assistant here.
Now that my SEAL days were behind me, it was equally clear that Hawk Security was where I belonged, and I couldn’t very well go with her back to Boston.
I really, really liked Peyton, and we’d been having a good time together, but I knew the data. Under stress, people could develop quick attachments that didn’t last.
Her appreciation of my protection was real. But without the pressure cooker of the Strangler’s pursuit forcing us together, how would she feel about an uncouth brute like me?
She was an angel, all sunshine and light, undoubtedly with dreams for the future. I was the opposite, the destroyer, the bringer of death and destruction that the Navy had trained me to be. I was saddled with nightmares brought on by the ten lifetimes of crap I’d seen.
Then another image arrived from Jordy. It was a little distorted.
I held the phone up, waiting for the inevitable letdown of Peyton’s reply.
ANGEL: He looks a little different, but it’s been a while. Those are definitely his eyes. It’s him.
My heart raced with the knowledge that we finally had a real sighting of the target. The phone in my hand instantly rang—it was Lucas.
“Jordy has him in the northwest section of Santa Monica, not too far from the beach, about halfway between me and Terry,” Lucas said. “He has settled in for a cup of coffee. We should have him wrapped up in less than five, if you want to meet us at HQ.”
Northwest Santa Monica was so far from here that it would be irresponsible of me to ask them to hold off so I could grab him. “Peyton’s still busy being interviewed by O’Connor. I’ll stay put and bring her in for an ID of the guy when she’s done here.”
“Copy that.” Lucas hung up.
Striding quickly to Pete, I gave him the good news. “They spotted him in Santa Monica. Lucas expects to have him in custody in five.
“Uh, okay. What do you want me to do?” His tone was much less elated than I felt.
I’d forgotten that giving Pete a mission to keep him busy was one of our priorities. “We stay for now. He could slip away.”
“Roger that.”
Just then, a young man burst through the door from the corridor.
My hand went instinctively to my SIG, but seeing he wasn’t armed, I didn’t draw.
Pete was less discerning and had his weapon out and aimed in a fraction of a second.
The guy went instantly pale and his hand shot up. “There’s an accident on the street. Lots of blood. We need help.”
With lives in danger, I shifted into mission mode. I was the senior here and ordered Pete. “Go help. As soon as I check in with O’Connor, I’ll be right behind you.”
As I ran to the room that held my woman, Pete secured his weapon and followed the guy out the door.
“Hey,” O’Connor complained as I burst through the door.
I pointed at the detective. “There’s an accident with injuries on the street that Pete and I are going to help with. It’s just you on guard until we get back.”
He patted his jacket. “And Mr. Smith and Mr. Wesson.”
I nodded and shot a smile at Peyton before I closed the door.
Peyton
Just a little longer, I mentally repeated.
After I’d confirmed the last image Jordy had sent me to review, I’d focused on having the Strangler out of my life forever. For once, the guy had the right color eyes.
Yet I continued enduring the mind-numbing repetitiveness of Sergeant O’Connor’s questions in the demo room.
The detective checked his notepad. “Did Ms. Moulton’s apartment look disturbed when you went in? As if someone had been looking for something?”
“Who would be looking for something?”
“The Strangler. If things were disturbed, it could indicate that he had been there. It might look like somebody was searching for something if he was trying to remove fingerprints, that sort of thing.”
I closed my eyes and willed my stomach to stay under control. His question suggested that I could have run into the Strangler, if my timing had been unlucky.
I thought hard before answering. “It didn’t look that way.”
“Was she a neat or a messy person?”
I shifted in my seat. The several cups of coffee I’d downed to ward off my sleepiness were doing me in. I’d already mentioned that I wanted a bathroom break. “Sort of in between.” She was neat at work, but her apartment certainly wasn’t as organized.
Weren’t many people like that?
Suddenly, Zane flung the door open and informed O’Connor that he and Pete were leaving the office to help with an accident down on our street.
“And Mr. Smith and Mr. Wesson,” O’Connor said, patting his jacket.
It was comforting to be surrounded by big men carrying bigger guns.
After Zane slammed the door closed behind him, the detective went back to his notes. “Let’s see.”
“How much longer?” I asked.
He rubbed his chin. “Not too long. Why don’t we take that bathroom break now?”
My bladder rejoiced when he rose and held the door open for me.
O’Connor waited at the entrance to the men’s room and watched as I pushed into the ladies’ restroom.
I took care of business and washed my hands. When I was done, I pulled open the door and was met with the vision I’d hoped never to see again—one brown eye and one blue.
Before I could move or yell, he clamped his hand over my mouth. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the detective motionless on the floor.
The brute pushed me back into the restroom. “You’re coming with me.”
I couldn’t scream and tried to kick, but missed. He was too strong, and I didn’t have any leverage to use to break free, but I did have my teeth. I bit the hand over my mouth.
He threw me to the ground.
My head hit hard and I saw black dots in my vision.
Before I could do anything, he straddled me and placed his hand over my mouth again.
Looking up into the evil of those bi-colored eyes, I felt the needle he pulled out prick my neck.
A few seconds later, I went limp, and the room faded to blackness.