Chapter 22
The smell of fried grease slid across his face the moment Connor stepped into the diner, and his stomach growled. He’d touched base with Evelyn, then decided to meet Mark to go over Lynette Nelson’s case file before heading to Ben’s apartment.
He pushed through the crowd and settled into the vinyl- lined cushions opposite Mark.
A waitress approached their table with a notepad in hand and a pen poised above it. “Do you guys know what you want?” Long blond bangs swept across her young face, and fatigue was clear as day in her honey-brown eyes.
Connor nodded and smiled at the waitress. “Sure. I’ll take a burger, fries, and a cola.”
Mark’s gaze drifted back to the table. “Same.”
The waitress scribbled on her notepad and hurried to a nearby table.
“What do you have?” Connor asked.
“I’m still sifting through a ton of shit with the Teller case.
I didn’t find anything that matched the horror of Hayley, but I did find some unsolved cases of murdered women with large slashes or amputations.
Quite a few in New York; the numbers are rather high for the city.
” Mark locked eyes with Connor. “Specifically, Brooklyn.”
“He stays close to home. I’d bet my life his hideout’s in Brooklyn. Are the cuts consistent with the ones found on Hayley?”
“All made by a saw, but the cuts get neater. Placement of the bodies appear more deliberate as time goes by.”
Connor’s stomach pitched as the image of Hayley’s mutilated body came to the forefront of his mind. “What he did to Hayley might have been deliberate, but nothing about it was neat.”
“True, but if we spin off your initial thought, he might’ve rushed. He got spooked.”
“Do you have any other suspects besides Gabriel?”
Mark took a deep breath, his gaze locked on the clutter of papers as if hoping the answers would magically appear. “No, but I can’t figure out how the bastard has gotten away with this for so long or where he is. He’s smart, but there has to be a slip up somewhere.”
Connor sagged back into the hard seat of the booth. Mark was one of the best homicide detectives in the city. If he couldn’t figure out how to find Gabriel, they could be screwed.
“I’m working on finding a more substantial connection with the equipment used on the bodies and how to track them, and figuring out why Hayley was placed in that damn box. You glance through Lynette Nelson’s file. See if anything pops out.”
Connor studied the screen. “Simon seemed pretty shaken up when I asked him about his cousin. More so than when I told him about Hayley. Have you found any more connections between them?”
“No. I’m requesting his phone records. I want to know what they discussed beyond what was online.”
“He offered to let me read his text messages.” Connor couldn’t get Simon’s sad eyes out of his head. He understood how hard it was to have someone you love disappear without a trace and have it eat you up inside wondering what happened.
“Interesting. Most people guard their phones with their lives.”
“I thought the same thing.” Connor scrolled faster through the case file. “I don’t understand. Gabriel’s name is nowhere in this file.”
“Did you think it would be in there?”
“Turns out Gabriel dated Lynette. Simon claimed no one else knew except him, but he told his parents everything when she went missing. It makes no sense the police wouldn’t interview him.” Frustration ripped through him.
Every turn, every lead, every fucking time a new piece of information was uncovered, it ended up giving him jack shit.
He looked at the picture of Lynette. A smiling girl with dark curly hair falling around her face stared up at him.
Surprise stole his breath and knotted his stomach.
“Holy shit. This is the girl from the frame in Gabriel’s house.
He had a picture from a dance or something, he and a young girl.
Another one of her with some French book covering her face. It has to be her.”
Mark studied the picture. “If they dated, he should have been interviewed, and if he still has a framed picture of her in his house, she meant something to him.”
“This guy has weaseled his way out of so much. Could he have weaseled his way out of talking to the cops? Lied about his involvement with the girl?”
“It’s possible,” Mark said. “But a missing girl’s boyfriend would have been one of the top people investigated.”
Connor ground his teeth together. “I’m pretty sure his dad covered his ass about the birdhouses. He could have greased a few palms to leave his kid out of this mess. The guy’s a dick.”
“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. I’ll put him on my schedule tomorrow. I want to get a read on him for myself, and maybe having someone new interview him will shake loose some new information.”
The waitress hurried over with a large plate in each hand. Mark moved his mess of paperwork out of the way, and she slid the plates in front of them. “Can I get you two anything else?”
“No thanks,” Connor said and waited for her to be out of earshot. “Good idea. The guy knows more than he’s letting on, and there’s no way he’ll talk to me.”
His blood burned thinking of his earlier encounter with Mr. Wilson. He wouldn’t be able to keep his temper in check for another interview.
Mark picked up his burger. “I’ll keep looking into this shit tonight and hopefully uncover something before then.”
His phone vibrated against the table. Connor glanced at the screen and smiled. Evelyn. He scooped the device into his hand and accepted the call. “Hey. I’m about to leave to get you.”
“Help! Help me!”
Fear churned in his gut and sharp breaths rasped through his throat. “Evelyn? What’s wrong? What’s going on?”
Tortured cries and racking sobs scalded his ear.
“Evelyn. Talk to me. Tell me where you are.” He needed to get to Evelyn. Dammit. He should have stayed with her and protected her.
“Connor, look at me,” Mark said. “If Gabriel got to Evelyn, he would have gotten to Ben. Do you think that’s possible?”
Tears filled his eyes as his mind struggled to click the pieces of the stupid fucking puzzle into place. “What are you talking about?”
Mark slid his phone across the table. “Call Ben.”
Keeping his phone pressed against his ear, he dialed Ben’s number on Mark’s phone and waited for the line to pick up.
“Hello?”
“Ben, where’s Evelyn?” Panic made Connor’s voice high and tight.
“She’s at the kitchen table. Dude, what’s going on?”
A low, masculine laugh mingled with the cries for help against his ear. Connor’s blood froze. He wasn’t listening to Evelyn’s cries for help, he was listening to Monica.
Evelyn concentrated on article after article about Lynette Nelson. Sadness flowed through her as she read about the tragic disappearance of an innocent girl. But where did Gabriel fit in? Could Simon’s missing cousin just be one hell of a coincidence?
“Find anything?” Ben took the seat across the table from her, the legs of the chair scraping against the tile floor as he leaned back.
“There’s a lot of information about Lynette, but not one single mention of Gabriel in connection with her.” Evelyn rolled her shoulders forward to ease her cramping muscles. She’d been hunched over her computer for hours. “What about you?”
Ben snorted and shook his head. “The police have already checked out most of the properties I uncovered. I’ve found some obscure places in the tri-state area connected to Gabriel’s family, but those are long shots. He has to be somewhere close.”
“What all do we know about Gabriel? He owns a successful real estate development business, everything he’s passionate about is located in Brooklyn, he enjoys building things out of wood, and he’s got a weird fascination with France.”
“France? What do you mean?”
“For someone so focused on his career, it struck me as strange he’d waste time studying French Literature. When I looked deeper, I found he took a sabbatical from work to live in France for a year. Seemed odd for someone so driven by his career.”
Ben spiked up an eyebrow. “Did you mention that to Connor? Lynette had lived in France with her family before moving to Brooklyn.”
“No, it didn’t seem important.”
“Any detail could be important, no matter how small.” Evelyn sighed. “There has to be something else. Something we’re not seeing.”
Ben filled two glasses half full with the wine then faced Evelyn. “I’ve been thinking. If Gabriel’s responsible for Lynette Nelson disappearing, she was probably his first victim.”
A shiver raced down her spine. “That’s young for someone to become a killer.”
Ben nodded. “It happens. Usually there’s a catalyst to push someone over the edge.”
“It’d have to be one hell of a catalyst.” She glanced down at her chipped fingernails. Maybe it wasn’t. She had her fair share of experiences with people who chose to be monsters for the fun of it. Maybe Gabriel was born evil, and poor Lynette Nelson was in the wrong place at the wrong time.
The outline of Ben’s phone lit his front pocket. He grabbed it and glanced at the screen. “Sorry, I’ve got to take this.”
Evelyn turned her attention to the clock on the wall. Connor would be there soon, but she didn’t want to stop working, stop trying to figure out this mess until he got there.
She closed her eyes, bringing all the information into focus. She twisted and turned the facts, comparing and manipulating the evidence.
A long-shot idea took hold. It was a stab in the dark, but she typed in “what’s the meaning of the name Lynette” into her search engine and scoured the results. She clicked on a link and read through the meanings of the name of the girl who could have been the beginning of Gabriel’s twisted game.
Anglo-Saxon meaning: Bird
Celtic meaning: Grace
Latin meaning: Mild
French meaning: Little Beauty
Evelyn grunted out her frustration and closed her laptop. She folded her arms over the top of the computer and buried her head in her elbows. So a graceful, beautiful bird of mild manner was the key to finding Gabriel. What did she think she’d discover?
A door crashing open jolted her awake.
Connor ran into the kitchen and threw his arms around her, lifting her to her feet and securing her against him. He buried his face against the side of her neck. His body shivered against her.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” She rubbed her hands up and down his arms and tried to chase away whatever plagued him.
“I’m so glad you’re safe. I was so scared I’d lost you.”
“I’m okay. You’re here with me now, and you’ll keep me safe.”
Connor nodded and drew in a deep breath. “You ready to go?”
Warmth rushed through her, and she tilted her head to stare into Connor’s handsome face. “Absolutely. Let’s go.”
Gabriel sucked in a lungful of dirty, musty air. His nostrils flared, and he closed his eyes as the familiar scent tickled his nose and a rush of endorphins flooded his brain. The lights flickered, but he could still make out every exquisite home he’d made for his little pets.
A pang of regret jabbed him. He’d spent years building his collection.
Years hand- selecting the right pets to bring into his sacred space.
He’d poured his time and sweat and love into creating the perfect resting space for each of the little beauties who’d helped him achieve his mission in life—who’d helped him release his darkest needs and desires.
But now he’d have to leave them.
He kissed the tips of his fingers then pressed them against the last wooden home he’d come to say goodbye to. Leaving them was like leaving a piece of himself, but fucking Detective Mitchel had given him no choice.
No, it was time to leave and start over somewhere else. He flicked off the light and made his way up the ancient steps. The wood squeaked and hummed under his weight, and he relished the sound, the familiar dip of the steps as he slowly made his way upstairs.
He slid his hand into the front pocket of his pressed trousers and pinched the lock of hair between his fingers. He moved it around, savoring the feel and texture of the still-silky strands. No matter what he had to leave behind, his favorite Little Beauty would always be with him.
He closed the door at the top of the stairs and took in the sight of his workshop before he left.
Sadness might be a part of his new journey, but so was an eager anticipation he hadn’t experienced in years.
Excitement hummed in his veins. He skimmed his fingers along the rough wood of his workbench, committing to memory every groove, every knot, every fucking splinter that pierced his skin.
This place had been his sanctuary for years, but overnight, it had turned into his prison. He had to escape.
But first, he had one last kitty to tend. Monica had outlived her usefulness, and the time had come for her to play her final part in his plan to seek revenge on Detective Mitchel.
He stalked toward her, and she squirmed against the corner he’d kept her secured to.
Wide blue eyes stared back at him, tears coursing over her cheeks and glimmering over the bruises on her smooth skin.
Her grunts and muffled yells intensified the closer he got, but the duct tape over her mouth kept them from reaching their full potential.
He crouched beside her, grabbed a fistful of black curly hair, and yanked back until her eyes stared up at him.
He groaned, her fear increasing the need to release himself, but he couldn’t give in to temptation.
Not now. He’d hold on tight to the sensation and make his reunion with Evelyn that much sweeter.
Gripping the edge of the tape on her mouth, he pulled back and ripped it from her skin.
Monica yelped and yanked against his hold on her hair.
He grazed his knuckles against her jawline and she stilled, her gaze locked on his.
He leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers, using his grip on her hair to keep her in place.
He ground his mouth against hers, prying her lips apart with his tongue so he could dive into her warmth.
Her teeth came down on his tongue and pain shot through him. He reared back and spit blood onto the floor. A deep, rumbling laugh erupted from him, and he flattened his palm against Monica’s cheek. “Oh my little kitty, I’m going to miss you. But I’m afraid the time has come to say goodbye.”