Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Believe me when I say…even wild horses wouldn’t be able to drag me away from Emerson.
Been there, done that shit. One star. Do not recommend.”
– Gray Stone
“I have nothing to say to you,” Hannah McIntyre snarled.
She sat at the interrogation table in the FBI’s Atlanta office.
Oh, yeah, he’d had her brought in, complete with ankle and wrist shackles and with an FBI escort in the form of a currently glowering Malik Jones.
“I know my rights,” Hannah huffed. “I want a lawyer! I want bail! I want out of these damn things!” She tried to lift her wrists, but they couldn’t raise too high, not with the way the shackles connected to her ankles.
“Relax,” Gray advised.
She did not, in fact, relax. Instead, Hannah emitted a guttural scream.
Right. Gray quirked a brow toward Emerson. “She’s not relaxing,” he noted.
“Nope,” Emerson agreed. Her hand rose to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear.
Her fingers weren’t covered in blood any longer.
They had been, back on Sea Island when she’d literally had to shove those fingers into Justin McClintock’s wounds in order to stop his blood flow and keep the bastard alive.
Emerson had stayed with the wounded perp while he was airlifted and flown for treatment.
She’d been in the ER with him. Been there when the guy finally opened his eyes.
Of course, Gray had been there, too. Justin had been damn grateful to be alive. Grateful people tended to be very, very chatty.
Gray settled more comfortably in the stiff chair as his attention shifted back to his prey.
“I thought you might want to know that your latest boyfriend turned on you. Instantly.” Mostly because the guy knew Emerson was the only reason he had survived.
“Said everything was your idea. You were the mastermind. Justin was just following orders because he was in love with you. Wanted to make you happy.” Sure, why not kill people to make your girlfriend happy?
Like that crap was rational. “He’s going to cooperate fully with our investigation. ”
Hannah wasn’t screaming any longer. Good, his ears could use a break.
“You said you want a lawyer. Stellar idea. You’re going to need one.
” Gray inclined his head toward her. “If you were my client, I’d advise you not to speak, and, hey, you know your rights…
You totally have the right to remain silent.
Anything you say can be held against you and all that.
By this point, I’m sure you’ve heard this spiel a few times. ”
Rage swirled in Hannah’s eyes.
“So you should probably just listen,” Gray continued. He was highly conscious of Emerson standing near the one-way mirror that was positioned on the wall to the right.
Emerson. She said she loved me.
She had said that, hadn’t she? He had been suffering a concussion at the time. One of the horse’s hooves had clipped him on the side of the head at some point.
He’d gotten trampled in the back, luckily away from his spine.
Gotten hit in the leg. Once on the shoulder, too.
Plus, the head snap. Not his best of days, but, honestly, it could have been one hell of a lot worse.
All things considered, he’d been really lucky.
He’d had to fake being knocked out for a moment while Hannah made her confession and while he waited to catch her unaware so he could attack.
But there had been no way he would let the woman shove horse tranq into Emerson’s veins. So he’d fired.
Emerson followed orders for once. She’d dropped. He’d gotten the shots off at Hannah and at Justin. The bad guys had been captured.
Now it was time to make sure neither one got out anytime soon.
“Listen to what?” Hannah snapped. “You ramble? You two make me sick! You think you love each other? You think you’re going to walk away from this and live happily ever after?”
Sounded like a plan to Gray. “What do you think, Emerson? You in the mood for a happily ever after with me?” She wasn’t wearing her wedding ring any longer. Maybe he could change that…
“I—” Emerson began.
“There is no happily ever after!” Spittle flew from Hannah’s mouth. “It’s a lie. No one gets that.”
“Your father was a mechanic,” Gray said.
His fingers tapped on the edge of the narrow table.
“Justin told me that your father trained you in his garage when you were a kid. That was how you knew how to sabotage the brake lines. You were the one who came up with the method of murder for Kris and Wendy Prichard.”
Hannah’s lashes flickered.
“And you were the one who had the idea of attacking Zac and River Turner while they were running. Zac was a big guy, so I’m thinking that Justin took him out.” He slanted a glance toward a watchful Emerson.
“Makes sense to me,” she murmured. “And Hannah went after River.” Her gaze was on the killer. “Harder to stab someone than you realized, wasn’t it? I don’t think you were prepared for her to fight back. Or maybe you didn’t like all the blood flying all over you.”
Hannah licked her lips.
“Then there was the third couple. Anzo and Kim.” Gray exhaled. “You really fucked up with them. The others—honestly, no one was even connecting them. You should have been more careful with your prey.”
“They were nobody! ” Hannah leaned forward.
“A chef and a low-rent cop. There was nothing special about them! Why the hell should they get five years of a happy marriage when I couldn’t even get a year with Angel?
I never even got marriage! And Justin—he was just convenient.
I never gave a damn about him. He was only in it for the sex, but man, he was so easy to manipulate.
” Her smile stretched nearly from ear to ear. “I had him wrapped around my finger.”
Emerson took a step forward. “He was younger than you, more moldable, and willing to do anything to make you happy. Even if that anything included murder.”
Hannah’s head jerked toward her. “Your precious fake husband was ready to kill for you. He shot Justin in the heart. It’s quite the feeling, isn’t it? When you know you have someone so obsessed with you that they’d willingly kill for you in an instant.”
“Gray was fighting to keep me alive. He wasn’t killing innocent people because I had some twisted vendetta against the world. A vendetta that just started because I’d been dumped before.”
Hannah’s mouth dropped open.
“You’re going to be in for a world of pain,” Gray warned.
Her head swung back to him.
“The chef and the low-rent cop were very much important. ”
“No, they weren’t. They had no family. They had a damn boring life, and they had?—”
“They had safety,” Gray corrected. “They had love. And while they may have possessed no biological relatives, they have a whole army who wants vengeance for them.”
“What are you talking about?”
He’d gotten the confession that he needed. Hell, he’d gotten that back at the island. But Hannah had just chosen to overshare again, even when he’d reminded her that she should keep quiet. She had the right to do that, after all. To remain silent. But Hannah hadn’t kept quiet.
And the interrogation was being recorded. A very obvious camera in the upper right corner of the room. Not like the tiny devices Hannah and Justin had used to find prey and watch them on the island.
Speaking of watching them… “What were all the cameras about? You had access to all of the victims’ addresses. Why did you and Justin put up the cameras? Seems like an unnecessary risk.”
Hannah lifted her chin and didn’t answer. Oh, so now she got quiet? Fine with him. Gray pushed to his feet. His back ached, his thigh ached, and he still had a headache throbbing behind his temple.
It had been two days since they’d left Sea Island. Two days of case files and investigative reports and trying to figure out all the moving pieces. This meeting was the final nail in Hannah’s coffin.
“I know why you did it.” Emerson’s voice was certain. “You told us already.”
“I have not. ”
“Sure, you did. It was the first day we met. When you said that you could tell which couples had staying power. You specifically said you could see it when two people were meant to be. You watched the couples interacting. You saw which ones seemed to be the most connected. ‘It’s in the eyes.’ That’s what you told us before.
You watched the couples because you were looking for your perfect targets.
When you found them, you went to your computer, and you got their addresses.
You waited for them to leave the resort, and you followed them home. ”
She didn’t deny the words. In fact, Hannah hunched in on herself a bit.
Gray eyed her in disgust. “One of my agents discovered that Justin used a credit card in the same town where Zac and River Turner were murdered. Pretty sloppy.” Gray grimaced. “But I guess it’s just hard to find a good partner these days, isn’t it?”
Or, it was hard for some people.
His gaze cut to Emerson.
He had the perfect partner, and there was no way he’d let her go. No. Way. Slowly, his stare returned to the perp.
“I want a lawyer.” Hannah nodded. A tear leaked from her eye. “ Now. ”
Gray walked away from the table. Malik stood at attention near the door. He’d silently watched the entire scene unfold. “Of course.” He raised a brow at Emerson. Was she ready to leave?
Emerson nodded. She advanced toward Gray.
“How did they have an army?” Hannah asked.
Gray looked back at her.
“The chef. The cop. What army did they possibly have?”
Gray smiled at her. “You ever hear of the Night Strikers Motorcycle Club?”
Hannah’s eyes widened. “Wh-what do they have to do with anything?”
“Oh, you’ll be finding out, and it will not be pretty.”
Cassius “Cass” Striker glared through the one-way glass. Hannah McIntyre rose to her feet. She stumbled a bit, thanks to the ankle shackles, and the FBI agent with her, Malik Jones, put a steadying hand on her shoulder.