Chapter 13 #2
“No.” From Atlas. “I never saw him. He attacked while my back was turned.” While I was thinking about Lily and lowered my guard for just a moment because I was sure he wouldn’t come for me quite so soon.
He’d waited three weeks on taking his second victim.
I thought I had more time. That I was still setting up my trap.
Atlas had been wrong. He didn’t like being wrong. Especially when his errors could prove fatal.
“No.” From Lily. Softer. “I didn’t see his face.”
“Can you describe him at all?” Gage pushed.
Atlas could not.
“About six-foot-two, two hundred pounds. Wore all black. Moved fast. Showed no hesitation when he attacked Atlas.” Lily’s words were crisp.
“I went up to him from behind. I jumped on his back, and I tried to pull him away from Atlas. We fought, and I…he threw me to the ground. That’s when I hit my head.
I…” She paused. Frowned. “No.” Stronger.
“He loomed over me once I hit the ground. I-I remember that. I was trying to get up, but he grabbed me by the shirt front. Then slammed me back onto the pavement. That’s when things got blurry. I…passed out a bit.”
She had never mentioned the prick slamming her into the pavement that way. His hold on her fingers tightened.
Sharon scribbled faster.
Kurt stopped tugging on his collar. He frowned at Lily.
“When we got out of the cabin, I remember seeing your car,” she told Atlas.
“Guessing maybe he dumped us in the trunk. Then drove us to the cabin?” A bit of uncertainty.
“I woke up again when we were at the basement door. Right before he decided it would be lots of fun to shove us down that narrow staircase.”
“Mr. Bennett’s vehicle was recovered at the scene,” FBI Agent Sharon Hinkle noted as her pen paused above the pad. When Atlas glanced her way, sympathy filled her eyes as she stared at Lily.
But a quick glance showed there was no sympathy on Gage’s face. If anything, the prick looked furious. “Why were you targeted?” Gage demanded.
“Oh, my.” Theodora leaned forward. “I think we should tone down the tension here. My clients are cooperating. Recounting as much as they remember. I’m sure if you reach out to the hospital, the staff who examined them can back up all of their injuries.
The concussions, the bruising—it’s all going to match up with the descriptions they are giving you. ”
Lily pulled her hand from Atlas’s grasp. She tugged down her sleeve, pulling it over the dark band of bruising on her wrist.
“We’ve talked to the doctor in charge of the ER. Dr. Phillip Owen.” Gage’s jaw had clenched when he saw Lily’s wrist. His eyes glittered now as he glared at Atlas. “Why were you targeted, Atlas?”
“I’m afraid you’d have to ask the perp that question.” He curled his hand along the armrest on his chair. “Who knows what drives killers?”
Gage pointed at Lily. “She knows. She’s made it her life’s work to know.” A nod. “So, Lily, how about you tell me why this killer targeted your new fiancé?”
Lily blinked. “Different killers have different motivations.”
“Uh, huh. Sure they do. Got it. Understood.”
Sharon was back to taking her industrious notes.
Detective Wry watched the interview but didn’t say a word. Atlas wondered if that had been the deal. Gage told the detective he could attend the interview session provided that the local guy knew he wasn’t to interfere.
“But you and Detective Benedict Swain had plenty of theories about this particular killer, didn’t you?
And let’s cut through the BS,” Gage directed with a huff.
“I don’t like wasting time, and you know it.
The attack from behind, the handcuffs…you and Benedict had already been looking at a serial in this area who hunted and used that exact MO—”
“Serials require three kills,” Sharon cut in to say as she glanced up from her pad. “There have only been two so far.”
“Not if you count Benedict Swain as the third victim,” Gage returned to his partner, his teeth clenched and the words tight. “The poor bastard wasn’t gutted, and he didn’t have his insides yanked out—”
“Oh, Jesus.” Theodora flinched and put her hand to her mouth. “Tact, tact. I cannot handle gore, and now that image is in my head and it will never come out.”
“Too bad. The vics didn’t want to handle it, either, but they had no choice.
” Gage’s nostrils flared. “The way I see it, Benedict was the third victim, at least if we believe that a serial killer is truly hunting in the city. I do happen to believe that. I happen to believe that a punishment-motivated killer is at work.” His hands flattened on the dining room table.
“But I want to know, why did this particular killer target you, Atlas? Just what crimes have you committed that made him think you should be next on his hit list? You were the intended victim, and poor Benedict died in your place.”
Theodora jumped to her feet. “How dare you? How dare you? We are cooperating—my clients are cooperating after their harrowing experience—and you dare to accuse them of committing crimes?”
“I’m not accusing Lily of anything,” Gage said. “Not this time.”
Lily stiffened.
Not this time. Atlas caught that deliberate phrasing, and it certainly made him curious. Just what had the prick Fed accused her of before? And had that accusation been what ended their relationship?
“My clients are not going to answer anymore of your ridiculous questions.” Theodora appeared to be in a fine fury now. “Atlas Bennett is a pillar of the community.”
“Pillar,” he repeated.
“He donates massively to local charities. Do you know he even recently built a cancer wing for children at the very hospital where he was treated last night?”
“I like helping others,” Atlas murmured. “It’s a calling.”
“He is on the board of a dozen community organizations.” Theodora was definitely fired up now. “He was given the key to the city.”
“Twice,” Atlas admitted. Not to brag. But, yeah, twice. He’d even led a parade in the city. Again, twice.
“How dare you suggest that Atlas has committed crimes for which some madman thinks he should be punished? That is your implication, yes? The killer is targeting those he believes are guilty, at least in his mind. And you suspect Atlas is guilty of something.” Theodora’s slender shoulders heaved.
“Such a horrible insult to an upstanding citizen like Atlas.”
Gage didn’t appear particularly impressed or intimidated in the face of her outrage. Instead, he said, “Bryan Mathers.”
Well, well.
“Name ring a bell?” Gage prompted. “If not, let me help. He was your college roommate, Atlas. Sophomore year.”
Yes, he had been. Bryan had also been a spoiled prick who drank too much and partied far too hard.
“Random roommate assignment.” Bryan had also been accused of rape by several girls on campus.
But the charges had always been swept away.
Mostly because Bryan’s own mother had been an associate dean at the university.
“Bryan OD’d in your dorm room.” Gage delivered that bit like it was a major news story.
“Yes, I am aware.” Atlas nodded. “I warned him to give up the drug use. He didn’t listen. Such a tragedy.”
Gage gaped at him. “The needle was shoved directly in his throat. I don’t know why the hell more of an investigation wasn’t conducted at the time, but people don’t usually inject full needles into their necks like that—”
“Bryan thought he was invincible. He would try anything. Always told me that nothing could hurt him.” Nothing and no one. Bryan had been wrong. “If only I had been there that night, but, sadly, I’d already left the school. Two weeks before that, actually. I’d learned enough.”
Gage’s nostrils flared. “Landon Russell.”
Ah, another blast from the past. Gage had certainly been a busy Fed.
“He was a chemist who worked in your research division.”
Atlas laughed. He could feel Lily watching him, but he didn’t glance her way, not yet. He let the smile linger on his lips. “I have quite a few chemists who work for me. Quite a few research divisions, too. Gonna need you to be far more specific.”
“Landon cut corners. There was an accident in his lab. One man suffered third degree burns on half his body. That specific enough for you?”
Atlas tapped his chin. “I do recall Landon. If memory serves, he was fired immediately after that incident.” He glanced at Theodora.
“I’m sure you could check with HR on that.
I believe he may have experienced a drinking problem.
We have a zero tolerance policy for drinking on the job.
I believe we even referred him to a substance abuse program for treatment. ”
“I remember him.” Theodora’s subdued response. “He refused treatment.”
“He was in an auto accident after his dismissal from the company,” Gage informed their group. “A mother and her son were killed in the car crash. He fled the scene on foot.”
Atlas unclenched his back teeth. “Terrible.”
“He was found dead, two months later.”
“Two months?” Atlas repeated, but he knew this information. “It certainly took the cops a while to find him.”
“He’d been dead the whole time. His remains—the bits left of him—were found about two miles from a popular hiking trail.”
“What does this have to do with my clients?” Theodora snapped.
“Two victims,” Gage fired back. “Those are two victims tied to Atlas Bennett.”
Atlas grimaced. “I am not an FBI agent. I have not gone to Quantico for training. I am not some behavioral expert, but…they are not my victims. Unless you are implying that I killed them?” Atlas waited.
No response from Gage. So he asked, voice cool, “Is that what you’re saying?
Are you accusing me of being a serial killer? ”
Sharon put down her pen. “That’s only two victims. We really need three for the serial designation.”
“Thank you, Sharon,” Gage bit out. His glare remained on Atlas. “Benedict Swain thought there were more victims. Remember when I said he had a few physical files on you, Atlas?”