Chapter 10
ten
. . .
“Jesus, Remo, what the hell happened here.” Gun in hand, Lorenzo walked in exactly twenty minutes later, his gaze trailing over the floor, stopping at each body before coming back to my face, his shock infused disbelief quickly turning into concern.
“What the fuck.” He crossed the room to my side as I tried to rise from the spot my aching ass had taken a minute to rest. Grabbing my arm to keep me from falling again, he moved me to the chair.
“Are you okay?” Brows pulled together in a deep frown, his eyes tracked my injuries.
“I’m fine.”
“Like fucking hell you are.” Slowly, he shook his head. “You could’ve called for backup, Fratello. They could’ve killed you.”
“Hold the fuck up,” I cursed, noticing Dario and two hefty men following him.
“You think I did this?” Lorenzo looked at me as if he’d already written off my denial and holstered his weapon.
“Fuck, Renz,” I grunted. “Look at the fucking wounds on these bodies. I’m not a neat fuck when I kill, and you know that.
It’s that killer, the one we’re not supposed to know about? ”
Frowning, he leaned over to look at the body closest to me then at Dario. “Get him here now.”
Dario retrieved his phone from his jacket pocket, sent a text before he and my brother looked at me, their expressions thoughtful.
I knew what they were thinking. I’d finally lost it.
Well, fuck them. Rising, I ground my molars against the pain in my muscles and lowered to a crouch next to the nearest dead fuck.
I rolled him onto his stomach, pushed up the frayed edges of his pants, and pointed to the cuts on the back of his ankles.
“Done to restrict movement.” I flipped the fucker over, ripped open his shirt and with my eyes on my brother, circled the air above the precision cuts to the where the arms connected to the body.
“Done to demobilize their hands. And this.” I gestured to the vertical slit in his throat.
“I have no fucking clue what that means.” Still stumped by the killer’s calm when she executed the kill shot and how she’d spoken to each man as she did so, I gave up trying to decipher it’s meaning.
Lorenzo stared at the cuts, his brow creasing. “I’ve seen a lot of wounds over time, the only weapon capable of doing this is a—”
“Katana,” I referred to the Samurai sword we were familiar with, bringing his eyes back to mine. Blowing out a harsh breath, I stood. Every fucking inch of me hurt with the effort. “Whoever did this, was a perfectionist and so fucking quick it was like watching a movie stuck in fast forward.”
“Are you saying, one person took down all these guys?” Incredulity banded over Lorenzo’s features.
“Yes. She was dressed like a—”
“She?” he asked. I nodded with a shrug. “What makes you think it was a woman?”
“Even with one eye, I can delineate the curves of a woman, brother.” I smirked. The woman’s sexy figure enhanced by the tight outfit left me curious about her identity.
He glanced over at our dead guys killed in the same way, studied me for a second then voiced the one question I’d already asked myself. “If she took down both sides, why are you still alive?”
“Beats the fuck out of me.” I stroked a hand down my face, wincing when my fingers touched my nose, aware it might be broken.
Good thing these fuckers were already dead, or I’d make them choke on their shit.
“All I know is one minute, these assholes,” I tried to kick the body nearest to me and failed with a groan.
Lorenzo helped me back to the chair as I continued, “were snuffing out my lights, and the next, this figure literally dropped from the roof, the Katana making quick work of their ankles. Once they were down—”
“He rammed the sword into their shoulders then proceeded to stick it in their throats while talking to them.” We all turned as Scott, a detective on our payroll walked in.
I figured Dario had texted him to come over before the rest of the police force swooped in.
“Good thing I was in the area,” he said to Lorenzo then looked at me, his eyes widening.
“Woah, what happened to you, man?” Almost immediately, his hands went up, palms out.
“Never mind, don’t tell me. I wasn’t here, right? ”
“You’ve seen this before?” Lorenzo asked instead.
Scott nodded. “It’s a case that has some of the best criminal profilers stumped. Started in Japan before hitting Russia, Europe and he’s now landed here. There may be other countries we’re not aware of yet. Mafia, mobsters, crime bosses all taking a hit.”
“Someone’s targeting mafia families?” I sniggered despite the seriousness of the situation.
“Targeting is a mild word. He takes nothing but leaves only one thing behind.” Slipping on latex gloves he retrieved from his jacket pocket, Scott crouched beside a body.
While we watched, he inserted two fingers into the slit in the man’s throat and withdrew something covered in blood.
Wiping it with the man’s shirt, he then placed the object on his open palm and stood.
“A penny?” My brow creased before my eyes lifted from the coin to Scott’s face.
He nodded. “Detectives in each country are trying to figure this one out and have requested assistance from the FBI. I’m assuming they’ll now offer a lot more than casual assistance given the killer is in our backyard.”
“Vigilante killings?” Lorenzo muttered, displeased.
Scott shook his head. “What we have here, gentlemen, is the calling card of a serial killer. He’s left this behind at every crime scene either to taunt us or send us a message.
You’re right, Remo. The wounds to their ankles and shoulders disable them and the one to the throat ends their lives, but this,” he pointed to the coin. “It’s personal.”
“Any clues on the significance behind the penny?” I asked.
“No one knows.” Scott placed the coin back into the wound as if he’d never touched it and removed his gloves.
Lorenzo’s expression turned contemplative. “Is this the first kill here?”
Scott’s gaze bounced between my brother and I before he chewed his bottom lip as if he were debating whether to give us more. He sighed. “The first kill happened at—”
“The Den,” Lorenzo cut him off, his eyes jerking my way for a split-second.
She was there. It was her presence I felt. Well, fuck me.
The other man nodded. “Investigation is still under wraps, though and I’m guessing this—” He waved his hand to encompass the floor. “–would probably open it to public knowledge.”
Again, Lorenzo’s gaze slid my way. I knew what he was thinking. The coincidence of me being at both massacres and left to live was a shitshow likely to disembowel me.
Was I being set up?
“You’re mine,” her words gave my brain another nudge.
I scowled and shuddered at the same time. What the fuck was she up to?
“I’m assuming there’s been very little progress in the other countries?” Lorenzo’s tone was clear annoyance. Unlike me who lived for chaos and could handle just about anything thrown at me, my brother hated detraction from the norm.
Scott raked a hand through his hair. “So far, the only logical explanation is vengeance. Theory is that this perp had some history with crime lords and their affiliates. Either he worked for them and they let him go after a fallout. Nothing concrete, just floating speculations.”
“A fallout would lead him to target just that crime family not random hits. Same could be said for an attack on a family member. This is something bigger,” Lorenzo pointed out. “What about time frame, has anyone established that?”
Scott nodded. “The hits began in Japan and over the last four years, could be more if no one’s heard about those, there’s been cases in Russia, Mexico and Europe in no particular order. Given they’re crime families, if anyone picked up on the connection, they’re keeping it to themselves.”
Damn, this woman was a piece of work. “A cross-border killer. Is that strange?” I wasn’t sure if I was still intrigued or wary.
“Given the targets he’s gone after, I’d say no,” Scott replied before rubbing his chin, his expression contemplative.
“Shared resources indicate that a family was hit every two months, which we theorized to be planning stages in between each kill. They think the perp takes a month to study his targets, learn their routines, their weaknesses and strengths then goes in for the kill. He never touches children and women unless she’s an actual soldier in the family or a crime boss.
” Scott looked from Lorenzo to me. “The only thing tying the cases is how the men are killed. This perp is swift, accurate and intelligent. Not only does he cut the feed to any security cameras, but if too many men swarm in, he leaves, not bothering to take down the rest. It’s like he handles what he can to ensure his survival. A sensible, methodical killer, maybe?”
If I didn’t know better, I’d swear the man was intrigued. I knew I was. “Then why the fuck am I still standing here?” I’d done a lot of fucked up shit in my life, but this was a puzzle I couldn’t grasp.
“What do you mean?” Scott looked at me, confused.
About to open my mouth, I caught Lorenzo’s tight-lipped warning to be cautious about what I revealed.
“These Cartel fuckers had me tied up, trying to beat the living shit out of me and my men. Once the killer arrived, he was quick. Either he was spooked by the time he’d taken the last man down or he assumed I was fucking dead. ” I lied, curious to get answers.
Scott frowned. “You didn’t see his face?”
A dull ache in my side forced me to take a breath, the slick feel of renewed blood soaking my shirt where they’d stuck a knife into me. “He wore a mask.”
“You okay?” Lorenzo asked, brows drawn together and I nodded.
“Anything distinct about the mask?” Excitement glinted in Scott’s eyes. “What about the clothes he wore?”