Chapter 20
HARLOW
My nerves were on edge all the way through the dinner service and into dessert. They didn't let up when guests started to rise and make their way out the door onto the street, most talking and laughing, full of wine and good company.
Judge Cross and Kevin Lotz-Moore were amongst the last to leave. Getzoff, and the men beside him, remaining at one table. Boner and a couple of people at another.
"I can't tell if this is anticlimactic or if things are about to get real," Cass said.
He twisted his lips and thought about it but shook his head, coming to no conclusions one way or the other.
He'd spent the whole evening in the kitchen, out of sight.
His attention on work, and his phone for any updates to the information he'd put out there.
If our enemies saw it, there was no indication.
Yet.
"I don't know either," I admitted. I leaned against him for a moment, my head on his shoulder, before I reluctantly stepped away. "I'm going to see if anyone wants coffee."
Making sure my jacket was straight, I stepped out into the sitting area and forced a smile as I headed over to Getzoff’s table.
"Detective, I hope you had a nice time tonight," I said.
He looked up at me and smiled. "Thank you. I can't tell you how much I've enjoyed myself. It's been a while since I've eaten so well and in such good company." He nodded to the man beside him.
"That's good," I said, trying to sound sincere. "I was wondering if you'd like a cup of coffee.
"I'd love one," he said. "On one condition."
If I wasn't already on edge, that would have put me right there.
"What's that?" I asked carefully.
"You've been working hard all night," he said. "Sit down and join us."
"Don't mind if I do." Boner plopped down into a chair opposite him, grinning at all of us. "Edward Bonegard." He offered his hand to Getzoff.
Getzoff shook it politely and looked back at me. Apparently he was serious with his request.
"I could sit down for a while," I said, grateful Boner would be there too. His table mates had already left, so him joining us now didn't look too suspicious.
I hoped.
"Excellent," Getzoff said.
"Yeah." I backed away and returned to the kitchen, where Cass already started the coffee machine.
"It might be safe for you to sit out with us now," I said to Archer, who was peering around the doorframe at Getzoff.
Very unsubtle, if I’m honest.
"Yeah, now most of the people have gone," he agreed. He slipped his phone into his pocket; the battery must have been almost dead by now. It hadn't left his hand all night.
He took a couple of cups of coffee Cass handed him and carried them out, placing one in front of Boner before sitting with him.
Between Cass and I, we took out the rest of the cups.
The man who’d sat beside Getzoff slipped out while I spoke to Archer, leaving an eclectic group alone in the restaurant.
"Isn't this interesting?" Getzoff adjusted his tie and sat back in his chair.
"Is it?" Boner asked. "That's great. I love when things are interesting." He propped his elbow on the chair beside him and leaned over like he didn't have a care in the world. "Harlow tells us you think there's a serial killer in the area."
Thank goodness I hadn't taken a sip of coffee. I would have spat it out across the table. As it was, I coughed, choking on air.
"Did I say that?" Getzoff asked, looking around the table like we were all as suspicious as fuck. Which was accurate, but I didn't think he knew that. Not yet.
"You didn't deny it," I said. "Boner owns a gallery nearby. He has a vested interest in the safety of his clients."
"And my own ass," Boner said. "Which I am quite attached to, thank you very much. Meanwhile, isn't it the job of the police to warn us of shit like that?"
"It can be," Getzoff said carefully. "Sometimes the circumstances aren't that simple. For example, if we were to let everyone know what we were looking for, the perpetrator might go underground."
"Literal underground or figuratively?" Boner leaned forward to ask.
"Both," Getzoff said.
"Huh. That sounds like fun." Boner grinned. "I've been down in the subway tunnels a time or two myself. Can't say I've seen any serial killers in there, though." He scratched his head as though thinking about it.
"How would you know if you saw a serial killer?" Cass asked him.
"Well, they all look the part, don't they?" Boner asked, clearly having way too much fun with this. “Don't they look like Hannibal Lecter, and drink Chianti?"
I suppressed a grimace. I didn't drink Chianti or eat fava beans. Nor did I look like Anthony Hopkins. Or Ted Bundy for that matter.
Although I wouldn't lump myself in with Hannibal Lecter or Bundy. One was fictional and the other killed for the fun of it. Not with purpose. There was nothing noble about what he did. Nothing redeemable.
"On the contrary," Getzoff said. "Serial killers look like average people. They could look like anyone at this table."
"Including you," Boner suggested, turning the veiled accusation back on Getzoff.
"Including me," Getzoff agreed. "But I'm not a serial killer. I'm someone who catches them."
"Oh?" Boner asked, dragging the word out. "How many have you caught?"
Getzoff glared at him, like he was annoyed at being called out.
"I’ve uncovered the identities of multiple criminals," Getzoff said. "I’m going to find out who's behind the killings in the area."
"So you admit there's a serial killer in the area," Boner said.
"What are we looking for here? Someone who offers candy for their victims to get into the back of a car?
Wait, no, let me guess. Someone who dresses as Santa and lures people with the promise of presents.
I might even be fooled by that one. I mean, who's going to think he's a bad guy? "
"Santa is creepy," Archer said. "When I was a kid, I refused to sit on his lap."
Boner pointed at him. "Those are good instincts, Harden. That wasn't actually Santa, it was a dude in a Santa suit. Possibly a woman. Maybe a non-binary Santa." He seemed to like that idea.
"Anyone who works with children is carefully vetted," Getzoff said, his voice tight with barely restrained agitation.
"Yeah, yeah." Boner flapped his hand like that was a minor detail.
"Hardwick," Archer interjected belatedly.
"So what are we looking for?" Boner asked. "I’d really like to avoid them if possible. How will we know what to avoid if we don't know anything about this person?"
"I’m not at liberty to discuss details of the case," Getzoff said. "My advice: be careful and don't walk around outside alone."
"Excellent advice." Boner clapped his hands. "I'll make sure to have a buddy with me everywhere I go."
A flash of irritation crossed his features. Getzoff leaned forward, placing his weight on his arms. "You don't seem to be taking this seriously, Mr. Bonegard."
"Call me Boner," Boner said. Which really did nothing to counter Getzoff's accusation. "I'm taking it very seriously, believe me. This is who I am. Take me or leave me." He spread his hand either side.
Getzoff looked like he’d take the ‘leave me’ option if he had a choice.
"Is there anything we can do?" I asked, trying to divert the conversation. "The killer could be someone we know. What do we do if they are?"
I hoped he was buying the potential damsel in distress routine. If I found another serial killer, I knew exactly what to do.
"You contact me immediately," Getzoff said. "Don't try to point fingers at them."
"We'd never do that, would we, Cass?" Boner said, pointing a finger at Cass.
Cass gave him a funny look and batted it away.
"What would we be looking for?" I asked, genuinely curious. It wouldn't hurt if I picked up a few tips to help me avoid being caught.
"Usually serial killers are loners," Getzoff said. "They either don't like the company of people, or people are uncomfortable around them."
"Luckily none of us fits into that description," I said, ignoring the fact Archer hid in the kitchen all evening. "In theory, we'd be looking at someone who comes in and eats alone?"
Getzoff was starting to fit into this description better than we were. Was he trying to draw attention away from himself? He was a police detective, but that didn't mean he was a good person.
"Potentially," Getzoff agreed, clearly seeing the comparison I'd raised. "They'd be unlikely to hold a conversation for very long. Nor would they enjoy a meal like tonight’s."
"No offense, but you're starting to make serial killers sound really boring," Boner complained. "Makes you wonder why people watch all those serial killer documentaries."
"Those are interesting," Archer said. "Human psychology is fascinating. You'd be surprised what motivates people to do things."
"I don't know if I'd be that surprised," Boner said. "I’ve met some strange people in my life." He looked around the table and grinned.
Cass elbowed him in the bicep. "We're not strange," he said.
"That, dear Titmus the Younger, is a matter of opinion," Boner told him. "Don't worry though, being strange isn't a bad thing. Look at me, I'm strange."
"You don't say," I teased.
He blew me a kiss not offended in the slightest.
Did he have to be so adorable? Yes, I supposed he did. Otherwise, he wouldn't be Boner.
I covered a yawn with my fist. I'd been so wired all day, it was starting to catch up with me. I looked into my coffee only to see it was empty, a thin layer of the milky beverage in the corners of the cup. I should finish cleaning up.
I yawned again, blinking a couple of times. My eyelids were getting heavy.
"Yes, I should call it a night," Getzoff said, downing the last of his drink and placing his mug in front of him on the table.
He pushed his chair back and rose, blinked a couple of times and staggered. He tried to grab onto the edge of the table, but collapsed onto the floor with a thump, landing in front of the legs of his chair.
I blinked a couple of times myself, trying to get my head around what happened. I said something but it came out slurred. Why was I so tired?
I tried to stand, but my legs wouldn't hold me. I flopped back down, hard enough to hurt my ass. My vision was blurry. Was everyone else struggling to stand too, or was I seeing things?
Cass let out a groan, reached for me and missed. He fell against me, his weight bearing down. The feet scraped on the floor as we both fell off the chair and onto the floor in a heap.
We landed with his weight on top of me. Heavy, and horribly still.
I registered a jolt of pain in my arm before everything went black.
Archer
Not again.
That was my first thought as I slowly regained consciousness.
Whatever I was lying on, it was hard. Uncomfortable. It smelled clean, but with a lingering tinge of blood. That could just be me. The memory of it clung to my nostrils. It had since my first kill.
I forced my eyes to open, half-expecting a glare.
Instead, the light was dim. All I could see were the legs of tables and chairs. I was still in Harlow's restaurant. Lying on the floor, tied up like a pig.
Had Getzoff done this to us? If he had…
No, I remembered him falling. Hitting the floor. Whatever happened, he was a victim here too.
Lucky for him, he might avoid being a victim of me. Once I got out of this, that was.
Groaning, I managed to roll over, flopping onto my other side like a fish. Cass lay right in front of me. Boner too. They seemed to be breathing.
"What the hell?" That was Jules’ voice.
The door closed behind him. His footsteps got closer. Then he was looming over all of us. Staring.
"What happened here?"
I'd like to know the answer to that myself. I parted my lips, but no words came. Thought was barely coherent, much less speech.
Cass groaned. Followed a few moments later by Boner.
Neither sound was loud, but they made my head pound. I felt as though I'd drunk an entire bottle of vodka and this was the morning after.
I hadn't had any alcohol. That might change when my hands were free. I could do with a drink right now. Maybe a few.
"Fuck." Jules hurried away. When he returned, he held a knife in his hand. He cut the zip ties off his brother first, then me, leaving Boner for last.
I sat up and rubbed my face. "Where's Harlow?"