Chapter 25 #2
Tank continues, “He’s been married three times.
June is his third wife, and I verified they are indeed still legally married.
He never signed the divorce papers. Obviously, she could have pursued that further.
A judge eventually would have granted her the divorce, but that would have cost thousands of dollars she didn’t have and caused her to come out of hiding over and over to possibly either face the asshole or end up being followed to or from a courthouse. ”
I’ve thought of that. All June could have done was file. After that, she had no further power without a lot of cash and exposure. He would have found her and… I don’t even want to think what he might have done. She knows this, though. That’s why she didn’t pursue further legal action.
My girl did the right thing. I’m sad she’s been living in fear and hiding for three years, but I’ve got her now. She’s going to be free of Pete Stark. I will make sure of it.
“And his first two marriages?” I ask.
Tank’s jaw tightens. “The first one died in a mysterious hiking accident. She fell off a cliff.”
“Convenient,” I growl.
Tank growls. “The second wife left him within a week of their wedding. She got an annulment. No contest. I tracked her down. She’s alive and well in Tennessee. Remarried.”
“At least she escaped,” I mutter, relieved.
Ghost holds up another folder. “After June, there was a woman named Kelly. He didn’t marry her.
Granted, he couldn’t. Lucky for her. She went to the police and reported him for abuse after he beat her severely a year and a half ago.
I was able to track her down after a bit of work.
She changed her last name and left the state. ”
Mace taps yet another folder. “That brings us to Jessie. She’s the woman he had living in the house until he saw June on the news. He took her to the bus station. She has no idea how lucky she is. We used facial recognition and found her socials. She’s safely at her parents’ house in Texas.”
I rub my temples. This fucker is a serial abuser. Not surprising. “Has Stark been back to June’s apartment?”
Cannon nods. “Only once. Luckily, I set up a discreet camera to watch her door. He returned the day after we were there, picked the lock, and put cameras inside. I assume he thought he would be able to kidnap her as soon as she went home, except she’s never been back, so he’s probably having a tantrum. ”
I tap my lips. “Now, what the fuck do we do?” I murmur to myself.
“There’s more,” Mace says. “He’s wanted for a string of burglaries.”
Ghost nods. “I’ve followed him to two locations and watched him stake out the places. They were broken into later that day.”
“Jesus. He’s quite the tool,” I mutter.
“Indeed. What do you want us to do?” Cannon asks.
I inhale deeply. This guy needs to be wiped off the Earth, and it doesn’t make me flinch to take this trash out for good. I’ll be doing society a favor. I’m already plotting, which I’ve been doing for two weeks. It’s time to move on this guy.
Mace’s phone buzzes where it’s sitting on the conference table. I don’t think much of it as he picks it up. It’s his phone. People text him. But suddenly, he jumps to his feet. “Fuck.”
I realize all four guys are on their feet, phones in hand.
The blood drains from my face. This isn’t a coincidence. They’re all getting the same forwarded messages from June’s phone. Unless Rachell suddenly needed to send out an urgent group text, whatever they’re looking at is from Stark.
And I did not get a text from Rachell…
I rise, hands on the table. “Talk to me.”
Cannon is closest. He turns his phone toward me. The picture I’m staring at is bone-chilling, but the words make my heart stop.
Get your ass home, June. If you’re not here in three hours, this bitch dies in your place.
If you think I’m bluffing, I’ll be happy to send you the after pics.
If you call the cops, I’ll kill her before they get here.
If you’re not here by the time I slit her throat, I’ll grab another bitch and off her tomorrow. One girl a day until you’re home.
The picture is of a woman tied to a chair in what I assume is Stark’s kitchen. Her mouth is duct-taped. Tears are running down her cheeks. It looks like she struggled because one eye is red and her cheek is bruised. He probably slapped her around in an effort to get her tied up.
“I’ll drive my SUV,” Cannon announces. He takes charge, and I’m grateful. This case is too close to home for me to bark out orders. Cannon points toward Ghost. “You’re with me.” He looks at me next. “Go get your keys. Tank is with you. Mace, stay here and run surveillance on the house.”
Mace runs from the room. He’ll be heading back to his monitors where he can spy on the inside of that house.
I turn and jog from the conference room. Rachell stands from her desk as I rush by. “Tank will text you the deets,” I shout. He’s following me as I enter the stairwell. My new SUV was delivered last week. I haven’t been in it yet, but the keys are on the kitchen counter.
I need to control my breathing and rein in my anger before I step into the apartment. June doesn’t need to see me losing my shit. It will scare her to death.
“I’ll wait here,” Tank states when we reach my front door.
I take a deep breath, open the door, and prepare to put on an act. “June? Honey? I’ve got to run out for a while, Little one.” I move toward her office and lean in, expecting her to be at her desk. But she’s not there.
“June?” I glance into the playroom. Empty.
The hairs stand up on my neck as I turn and jog toward the bedroom. Why isn’t she answering me? She must be in the bathroom. But she’s not. She’s not in any room in the apartment.
I turn and run toward my office. I know already, though. I left her phone next to my monitor. It’s gone. “Fuck,” I scream. On top of that, the desk drawer is open. So is the knife box. My girl grabbed a lethal blade before she took off.
“Blade?” Tank calls out from the living room.
I scream again in frustration as I run toward the front of the apartment. I dash into the kitchen and grab the keys to the SUV. As I suspected, the keys to the Camaro are gone.
I meet Tank at the door. “Let’s go.”
“Where’s June?”
“She must have gone to trade herself for the hostage.”
“Fuck.” Tank doesn’t ask how I know. He’s like me. He can piece it together easily.
When we enter the elevator, I hand him the keys. He’ll be far more steady than me. I pull out my phone and call Ghost. He and Cannon are probably already on their way to Stark’s, but he’s the passenger.
As soon as he picks up, I start talking. “June saw the text. Her phone was in my home office. She’s gone. She can’t be that far ahead of us. And she’s armed with my largest tactical knife.”
“Fuck. Got it. We’ll beat her there, Blade. We’ll make sure.”
“She has my Camaro.”
“Okay. Drive safe. Cannon’s putting the pedal to the metal. Can you track her phone?”
Shit. Why didn’t I think of that? I hold my cell out to look at the app. “Nope. She left it at the apartment.” Which also means I can’t call her and reason with her.
I pocket my phone and take a deep breath. This is the slowest ride in this elevator in the history of elevator journeys. The door finally opens at what seems like half its usual pace. I’m already squeezing through the opening before it’s wide enough, Tank on my heels.