Chapter 3 #2
When Victor reached Shelley, they refrained from any public display of affection, but that wasn’t due to the gravity of the situation. They were just as distant during personal gatherings like the holidays. Gideon wasn’t sure if that was for Eva’s benefit or just how their relationship worked.
And it did seem to work for them. The two had been living together for at least five years and seemed solid.
That his father-in-law had someone in his life who cared for him made Eva happy, and that, in turn, made him happy.
But it was never far from his mind that Victor and Shelley both knew he’d murdered the man who had abused Eva in childhood and stalked her into adulthood.
Shelley had been the detective on the case.
His actions could never and would never be proven, but Shelley Graves was in Major Crimes because she was an elite investigator.
She’d figured it out. And she had admitted to Eva that if he hadn’t acted as he did, her life would always have been in jeopardy.
That didn’t mean the detective was comfortable with him taking the law into his own hands or that they were now akin to family.
How na?ve Gideon had been not to foresee other threats to his wife’s safety, considering who he was.
And while Christopher and Ireland reluctantly agreed to personal security when they traveled, they outright refused protection at home.
Neither of them had ever been threatened in any way that alarmed them.
Getting his siblings to agree to using the location-sharing app had been the most he could do.
He’d considered shadowing them without their knowledge, but Eva had vehemently opposed.
Her mother had secretly surveilled her for her protection, and despite having good reason to worry for Eva’s safety, his wife felt that her privacy and autonomy had been violated.
It was Gideon who walked in the shadow of his father’s crimes and whose influence on global issues and domestic politics drew malice from some quarters.
And perhaps Ireland was paying the price now, if he was indeed the ultimate target.
One of the crime scene technicians glanced their way, then she approached. She wore khaki slacks and a navy T-shirt bearing a bright yellow badge printed on the upper-left side. When she reached them, she held up a clear evidence bag containing a phone. “Do you recognize this?”
“Can you show us the lock screen?” Eva asked.
The tech tapped the glass through the bag. The screen lit up with a photo of Blizzard, Ireland’s massive Maine Coon cat, whose white fur made the bloody smear across the glass stand out in stark, brutal relief.
Eva inhaled sharply. Gideon felt the same emotional blow, even though the location tracking app had shown that his sister’s phone hadn’t moved beyond the garage.
Seeing it made the truth unavoidable: they had no idea where Ireland was or if she was injured.
Guilt made his stomach turn, and for a moment, he feared he’d vomit.
He swallowed bile past a painfully tight throat and refused to consider that Ireland wasn’t still alive.
“Yes, that’s my sister’s phone,” he confirmed, battling to keep his thoughts focused despite the growing dread he felt.
Nodding, the tech walked away to input something on a tablet.
“I hate feeling so helpless,” Eva said hoarsely.
“We’ll know more once we’ve looked at the garage footage,” Angus assured her. “We may have some leads tonight, as they’re reviewing traffic camera recordings now.”
Shelley and Victor walked over together.
His father-in-law was still dressed in the tuxedo from the masquerade.
The detective wore khaki slacks, a white button-up shirt, and a cropped tan plaid blazer that didn’t hide her badge or service weapon.
Her boots were well-worn and flat-heeled.
She was arguably too thin, her face foxlike and angular.
Her curly brown hair was pulled back in a bushy ponytail, and her blue eyes assessed everything with keen intelligence.
“Gideon. Eva,” she greeted them. “I’m so sorry we’re going through this.
I’m very fond of Ireland, as I hope you know.
To be clear, I’m not assigned to this case and can’t participate in the investigation.
I’m allowed to be here for the same reason you are—as a courtesy and to provide any insight I can from a personal perspective. ”
Gideon nodded. “I appreciate that, Shelley. Thank you.”
“Yes.” Eva stepped away from him to hug the other woman. “It’s a relief to see you here.”
When Eva pulled back, the grim line of the detective’s mouth was foreboding and had Gideon bracing for a blow.
Shelley pulled two business cards from her jacket pocket and handed them over. “The detectives assigned are from my squad, and they’re damn good. Their names are Vega and Jang, and they’ll be contacting you soon to get your statements.”
Gideon looked over her shoulder. “Why aren’t they here now?”
“There’s a tertiary scene,” she informed them.
“TARU has been reviewing the surrounding traffic camera footage. They’re following the routes taken by all vehicles that exited the garage since the suspects’ SUV arrived.
One of those vehicles pulled into another parking structure not far from here.
Vega and Jang are there, or they’d be talking with you now. ”
Reaching blindly behind her, Eva searched for his hand. Gideon linked his fingers with hers and asked, “What’s happening there?”
“Another of the three suspects we’re aware of was found in that car, in the passenger seat. We’re still investigating whether there were others in the original SUV that might’ve taken additional vehicles, and if so, which one Ireland is being transported in.”
“Like a fucking shell game?” Gideon bit out, his growing terror overriding his fury.
He was aware, as perhaps only a man who’d survived childhood sexual assault could be, that there were some violations worse than death.
“And let me guess, the driver we couldn’t see in the videos from the hotel is the one who’s still out there.
So, we have no idea who we’re looking for. ”
“We’re looking for Ireland,” Shelley corrected.
“Getting her back is the goal. Right now, you need to get home so detectives can set up a wiretap in case the abductors try to reach you there. If you’re not already recording the calls coming through your switchboard at all hours, you should arrange to do so.
Monitor your social media messages and any numbers you have at secondary residences.
Make sure that whatever channel the abductors try to reach you through, they can get you immediately.
We’ll have a hostage negotiator with you to assist.”
“Much of that is already in place,” Gideon told her. “Victor might’ve told you that we’ve been having some safety concerns lately.”
She nodded. “I’m aware, and that will be investigated as well, whether it’s related or not.
I know how capable your team is, but please keep in mind that the NYPD has access to resources you don’t, and that this case is very much a priority.
Working together is the best way to ensure we bring Ireland home safe. ”
“I understand that.”
“And make sure you run any statements to the press by the detectives first,” she warned.
“What you reveal and conceal is crucial to maintaining the integrity of this case. And please, trust the negotiator’s advice and follow their instructions.
The abductors need to feel as if they’re in charge, or things can quickly disintegrate. ”
“Of course,” he assured her, even though it went against his better judgment. He handled high-stakes negotiations personally, approaching them in ways specific to him. That the stakes were the highest they could be made it especially difficult to relinquish control.
“We’ll head home now,” Eva said. “And pray we’ve already been contacted. While it’s terrifying that two men are already dead, that’s two fewer people Ireland has to defend herself against. If there’s just one guy left, she has at least a chance of getting the upper hand.”
Shelley nodded. “Keep thinking positive. Detectives will meet you at your home. And if you have questions, ask. Call me anytime. I’m as much a resource for you as I am to the detectives.”
“Thank you, Shelley.”
Gideon dreaded the coming hours. To ask him to do nothing but wait…
Ireland… Please, hold on…
For the briefest of blessed moments, Ireland was free of fear.
It was the pervasive pain that broke into her awareness first. From the roots of her hair to the soles of her feet.
Every inch of skin, every bone, every joint throbbed and ached.
A sledgehammer beat against the inside of her skull.
The roots of her teeth were hot. Her jaw ached.
Her left elbow could scarcely bend. Was it broken? Her tongue was thick and sore.
Confusion struck next. She stretched against the stiffness…
Agony spread like wildfire. She was yanked from the lingering fog of unconsciousness into a stark, brutal reality. Her eyes opened.
There was only unrelenting blackness.
She blinked rapidly…scrubbed at her eyes… She cried out, momentarily paralyzed by such profound horror.
Am I blind?!
Her sob resounded too loudly, betraying an enclosed space around her. Panicked, she rolled onto her side, screaming as a tender spot on her thigh exploded with heat and radiated agony.
He kicked me.
Oh, god!
She turned over onto her belly with a groan, feeling immediate relief to the back of her head. Touching it gingerly, she felt a tender and swollen knot the size of a golf ball. Memories began trickling past the fog of bewilderment. With them came the terror.
Memories assailed her in a searing rush. Ireland pushed onto her hands and knees…