Chapter 12
Graham
Rory tapped on the glass as he approached the door to my office, but the tension in his expression told me this was not a social call. It was clear that this was not a friendly visit, it had to do with the case, and the news he brought was heavy with foreboding.
He was in full detective mode, his every movement calculated and precise. The intensity of his gaze made my heart skip a beat as he swept it across the outer office, his eyes like deep pools of ice giving away nothing. A sense of unease settled over me and left the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. Whatever the news, it couldn't be good. He scowled, his brow etched with worry and tension, indicating that something had hit close to home. Immediately, I knew it had to do with Scarlett.
The door stood ajar, a hesitant invitation to whoever sought entry. My words were a bright fa?ade, a false cheerfulness painted over the lurking fear in the room.
“Good morning, Rory. Come in.” Rory's face remained a mask of stoicism, giving away nothing of the weight of the news he carried.
As the door clicked shut behind him, the air seemed to grow thick with tension and foreboding, like a storm cloud gathering on the horizon. My heart felt heavy, knowing that whatever was about to be revealed would be difficult to hear. And then, like a bolt of lightning, the words cut through the silence: "We have a lead in the case."
It was a glimmer of hope that I desperately grasped at, but also a weight of responsibility and uncertainty with fears for the safety of Scarlett.
“That’s good, isn’t it?” Even I could hear the desperation in my voice when the octave raised with my question.
He sighed loudly, slumping into the chair across the desk from me. “Not really. It’s not helping us in the way we would hope. It does tell us more about who… or more like what we’re dealing with.”
I didn’t like the sound of the way he said ‘what’. It implied that this person has some kind of skill or history they are uneasy with.
“What do you mean… ‘what’?” I asked, standing and pacing along the wall of glass then shifting direction and moving toward the small bar near the back of the office. I realized then that I didn’t really want to know what the ‘what’ was. I only wanted to keep Scarlett safe and spun on my heel to face him.
“Is she in danger?” I asked, pouring two glasses of single malt scotch and handing him one as I passed him circling back to my seat. Before he spoke we both downed the two fingers I’d poured. The scotch burned slightly as it slid down my throat, the heat reminding me of the urgency and danger of the situation.
He choked back the cough from the drink and said, “Yes, as long as this guy is out there she is. But not right this moment. She’s well protected here and at the house, we believe, but this is bad and you should take a moment before I tell you to get your emotions in check because she’s going to need you.”
“Spit it out,” I said, raging already. “Just fucking tell me. I don’t need to get anything in check. I need to know.”
At that moment I understood why he hesitated. My emotions surged like a wild, untamed animal, all sharp claws and furious growls, threatening to break loose from my control. I could feel the heat of anger and anxiety rising in my chest, making it hard to breathe. It was as if I was standing on the edge of a cliff, one wrong move and I would plummet into the darkness below.
I ducked my head and slowly poured another round. The aroma of the scotch filled the room, its woody and smoky scent adding to the intensity of the moment. I sipped my glass, this time willing my emotions to, as he said, ‘get in check,’ and took a seat on the sofa, fearful I might just do something stupid, like punch the glass when he told me.
A heavy sigh escaped his pursed lips, the sound a mixture of frustration and fatigue. His eyebrows drew together in a deep furrow, creating a crease that spoke of worry and concern. It was clearly visible as the lines on his forehead deepened, adding to the weight of his troubled expression.
“It’s Maddy. Her friend since childhood. He uh… Well, she’s dead. We do know it was him. The bites are a match. Forensics matched the dentition, but we’re sure when the DNA comes back it’ll be him. This was not random,” he cautioned, standing and walking toward the window, “it was her connection to Scarlett.”
It took a moment for it to sink in but as the realization of what that meant began to emerge, I realized no one was safe. It wasn’t just about Scarlett but anyone connected to her. I raced to my desk and grabbed the phone, dialing Walter’s line. It rang three or four times before I slammed the receiver down and flung open the door.
Walter stood by Samuel’s cubicle talking and rage rose, warming my cheeks. I knew it was irrational, but I was angry he hadn’t answered the phone. My hands gripped the railing so tight they hurt as I prepared to shout at him. It was like he felt it because he looked up at me and his eyes widened at my expression. Quickly, Samuel grabbed his phone and dialed.
The one on my desk rang and I hurried over to snatch it, shouting, “What the hell is going on out there?”
His tone was calm, “A meeting? Yes, sir, what time?”
“Huh?” I was stunned and paused for a moment.
“Walter? Yes, he’s right here.” He paused, and I looked at Rory who nodded a silent message to him over the rail. His voice, still calm but with a slight edge, said, “Fifteen minutes? Yes, Mr. Clarke.”
The phone call ended abruptly, and Rory's hurried footsteps echoed in the quiet office as he returned. The atmosphere was electric, and I couldn’t help but worry. We hadn't revealed the true reason for the extra security, only informing our coworkers that some offices had been broken into, but now my worry extended beyond Scarlett and encompassed the entire office.
April and Georgia had befriended her, as well as Walter. Questions formed and without thinking I blurted them out to Rory. “No one is safe, are we?”
His head shook slightly, but his silence was like a heavy fog, swirling and thick, leaving behind only a sense of unease and uncertainty.
Georgia approached the office with purpose, her heels clicking against the tiled floor, but when she caught sight of Rory, she raised her hand in a dismissive wave, signaling that whatever business she had to discuss could wait.
I realized that she didn’t know yet, and I hurried to the door, calling out after her, “Georgia, we have a meeting in about ten minutes in the conference room. Walter and Samuel will be upstairs shortly. I’ll need you to be there.”
“Should I make some coffee or drinks?”
I glanced at Rory, who shrugged and bobbed his head slightly, indicating that he’d like some and said, “That would be great, thanks.”
“I’ll just grab April to help me…”
I cut her off, “No. See if Walter can help you on his way up. She’s busy at the moment with Scarlett.”
She nodded her head and moved quickly down the flight of stairs.
I turned back to Rory, a sudden worry washing over me. “She’s safe going for coffee, isn’t she?”
He nodded. “As I said, I think this place is pretty well locked down. They’re safe here.”
With some trepidation, we shuffled into the conference room to meet with the others. Christian joined us there with a solemn expression etched on his face. As we settled into our seats, I couldn't help but wonder how April and Scarlett were faring in Scarlett's office next door. Christian's pained expression spoke volumes about how Scarlett was handling the news. Her absence only added to the weight of the situation.
We settled into our chairs around the polished oak table, the room was silent except for the faint ticking of a nearby clock, amplifying the weight of the conversation to come.
Christian's gaze flitted nervously between each of us before he finally cleared his throat and began to speak, his voice filled with emotion and urgency as he explained what was going on. “I didn’t tell Scarlett this and now is not the time to share it with her.”
Everyone nodded in agreement, and he continued, “Maddy was snatched sometime after she left work yesterday, and from what we’ve been able to ascertain it must have been quick. Her car was untouched, and her keys were found under the rear tire. But the worst of it is, she was found in a dumpster behind a restaurant just around the corner. The bite marks all over her pointed to something much more than a random attack, and this morning it was confirmed… It’s the same guy that attacked Scarlett.”
Georgia’s hand went to her mouth in a gasp, and I questioned whether she should be in this meeting.
“Georgia, maybe you should…” She waved me off and nodded to Christian to continue.
“We feel sure that this was a warning meant for Scarlett, as if he’s taunting her, letting her know that he was far from finished. Which makes us question everything at the moment.”
“What do you mean,” I asked.
“We think this guy is a cop or perhaps was? Maybe he’s connected to someone in the department? This is why we’re meeting here. Everyone in this room is someone we’ve vetted and are comfortable with.”
“What? How? What do you mean? Can he get to her through the security?”
Christian put his hands up for me to calm down, but I couldn’t and spun away from the table in my chair. A thumping in my ears from my heart racing drowned out whatever anyone was saying, and I felt like the world was coming down around me. Leaning forward I laced my fingers through the loose hairs that had escaped the neat pony I kept tight at the nape of my neck and rested my head in my palms. I needed a minute to process. In that moment, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt I was completely in love with Scarlett and fears raced through my mind out of control.
“Graham, you have got to calm down. She can’t handle it if you lose it,” Georgia scolded me.
I looked up, my hair falling into my eyes and her warm gaze immediately took the edge off. If she could handle this, so can I. A feeling of embarrassment rose like heat in my cheeks.
Christian glanced at Rory with a look that said the worst was yet to come. “The whole of it, and as yet unknown to Scarlett, is that Maddy was attacked so viciously that it must have been horrific. She hadn’t been dead more than a few hours when she was found this morning which means he took his time. There was a savagery that shocked even the hardest of the forensics teams. On her chest was a note, held there by a meat thermometer we’re pretty sure could be the same one Scarlett stabbed him with.”
Walter was clueless, but the rest of us knew what she’d said at the scene that night. I remembered it clearly as if it were yesterday.
“I think he’s done,” she’d said.
“What did the note say?” I asked.
“‘Not done’,” Rory replied. "He used her own blood to write it.”
“Oh, shit. Who was there to know that?” I stood and Rory shook his head.
“It was in the report. The flat foot is not to blame, as he was simply following instructions. Nonetheless, this is why we suspect that either he has access, or someone is providing him with the information.”
“I know some things but what does ‘not done’ mean?” Walter asked.
“I’ll fill you in later,” Samuel said, cupping his shoulder. “We’ve been in contact with the agents on Maddy’s case, and they’ve agreed to keep all information strictly confidential. We’ve decided not to tell Scarlett right now, but we’re sure she’ll want to attend the funeral.”
“She can’t,” I protested, standing abruptly.
“She can, and she will,” Samuel said, eyeing Christian and Rory. “We’re hoping it might draw him out. We think he’s using this to bring her out of the protective veil, but we’re planning to have a proverbial army present to keep an eye on her.”
“I don’t trust it.” Their intention to use her like bait angered me.
“Well, you can keep an eye on her, along with the others,” Christian said.
“Damn right!” Suddenly it occurred to me that Brody and Drake were not here and needed to be told. “We need to tell them.”
“That’s where Stewart is right now. He is filling them in as we speak.” Rory walked over to where Georgia had placed the coffee and poured a couple of cups, laying them out in front of me, Georgia, and Walter. Then he placed the cream and sugar on the table with some spoons before pouring for himself and the others. “The reason we are talking now is that we need to have an absolute fool proof plan for her daily routines. She is vulnerable most when going to and from work and at the gym.”
“She can’t go there. That guy was watching it. I am so sick of her being used to try to catch this… this… what? A cop?” I raised my voice in a high pitched panic and slammed the cream on the table.
“We don’t know that. All we know is that he has access to the reports. We just want someone with her at all times,” Christian said.
Rory took the seat beside me, and he spoke using that chill voice he does so well. “April is in danger now, too. Remember, we want this guy just as bad as you do.”
“Well, I, for one, will do whatever we need to for the poor girl. She’s been through enough this past year.” I was struggling to keep my thoughts together. I felt panic, anxiety, fear and other emotions I could barely quantify. I knew I needed to get it together and sat back down with my head in my hands again. “She’s safe here,” I whispered to myself, and took a deep breath.
“Ditto,” Walter said, lifting his cup to his lips. “We’ve got this place locked down. April is safe with you guys, but Georgia is not. What are we going to do about that? That’s what I’d like to know.”
He was right. None of us were completely safe until they caught this psycho.
“Just tell us what we need to do.” I was calmer now and just wanted to make sure everyone was safe.
“For now, just be there for Scarlett. This is going to be hard on her. I spoke to Sensei, and he will be closing the gym for the next few weeks. He put a sign up this morning saying due to a plumbing issue, they’d be closed. Since we know he was watching the gym, we have assigned both uniformed and undercover officers to keep a constant watch at the little girl's house. I think that is all we can do for now,” Samuel said.
I needed to compose myself before seeing Scarlett and made excuses to return to my office. Once inside I closed the door, leaning my back against the door and let out a long sigh. Everything has gotten so out of hand. “No wonder she wore the damn wig,” I said to myself before moving toward my small cart for a drink. Coffee wasn’t doing it this morning and I needed a moment.