Chapter 13 #3
“Yes,” Ondine whispered. “I like Erik. I thought he was hot, but I would never betray my friend. But she was gone, and I was sad, so he came over. I just wanted support, but one thing led to another. I only meant for him to be a shoulder to cry on, but a hug turned into him kissing me, and before I realized what we were doing, he was taking my clothes off. He and Ariella never had sex. She might have been willing to keep Erik a secret, but she shared her parents’ beliefs.
She didn’t want to sleep with him until they were married or at least engaged.
It felt wrong because Ariella never got to experience that with him, but I lost myself.
I needed the comfort, so I didn’t say no, but I wasn’t in the right frame of mind.
I enjoyed it at the moment, but when we were done, I felt so guilty and couldn’t stop crying.
He told me it was okay, that there was nothing to be ashamed of.
That we were sharing grief and love. It was weird at first, but I like how special he makes me feel, and how sophisticated an older man is…
” she paused as if verbalizing her story made her realize just how manipulative her new boyfriend was.
“So, yeah… He made the first move. If he hadn’t slept with me, I probably wouldn’t have dated my best friend’s boyfriend, even if I liked him. ”
“I don’t like it, but Erik’s behavior isn’t illegal,” Griffin said.
The day was on her deathbed, and the detectives had gathered in their boss’ office to update him on their suspicions and lack of concrete evidence.
“He might be a creep, but that isn’t grounds for an arrest. The mermaid killer was disciplined and an artist. Is some overgrown man-child hanging around colleges the organized menace we’re looking for?
He would’ve been a teenager when the killings started. ”
“His first kills were wrapped in chicken wire,” Bel said. “They were simple and potentially sloppy. A nineteen-year-old could wrap girls in metal and sink them if he was determined enough.”
“That’s true.” Griffin folded his arms across his chest as he leaned back in his seat. “But we still don’t have anything concrete. Thum identified some of the mermaids, correct?”
“She did.”
“Great. I want you two to visit the friends and families of the victims who are within driving distance tomorrow. See if they ever crossed paths with Erik Prince. If we find enough connections between him and the mermaids, the judge should grant us a warrant for Eric’s phone records or residence.”
“Fingers crossed, but do you mind driving?” Olivia addressed her question to Bel. “I still don’t know where my car went, and I don’t want to take advantage of Eamon’s generosity with the rental.”
“You still haven’t figured out how it disappeared from your driveway?” Griffin asked.
“Nope. Some detective I am.”
“Maybe Eamon can help you locate it,” Bel said.
“What can I help you locate?” a dangerous voice asked, the tone so deep the air itself rattled around them.
“Olivia’s car.” Bel started to answer, but her brain forgot what words were the moment her eyes landed on his towering frame cloaked in his all-black suit. It fit his muscular form like a glove, and she felt like a cartoon character with its jaw dropping to the floor.
“My damaged car disappeared from my driveway, and I can’t find it,” Olivia finished the explanation for Bel and her restarting brain.
“Isobel told me it vanished.” Eamon set a massive paper bag on the desk, using its width to hide the way his hand ran up Bel’s thigh to cup her ass from her boss, but by the smirk on Griffin’s face, his attempt at secrecy was pointless.
The blush on her cheeks was as pink as a teenage girl getting asked out by her crush.
“I can look into it, but don’t worry. I’ll pay for your rental as long as you need. ”
“You don’t have to,” Olivia protested.
“Shhh.” Eamon waved a dismissive hand before digging the contents out of the bag. “I had dinner with a client, so I got my girl some food.” He piled takeout containers onto the desk, and Bel didn’t miss the way Olivia stared longingly at the idea of a proper meal.
“Thank you.” Bel rubbed his back, loving how the fabric of his suit hugged every curve of muscle rippling through his torso. “We did smoothies for lunch, so I’m starving… but not that starving. How much did you get me?”
“I always over-order, you know that… not that one.” He snatched the smallest container from Bel’s hand and shoved it into the bag with a kiss to her temple.
“That one’s for a lonely little boy.” He paused against her skin, noticing Olivia’s longing as he mentioned Cerberus’ leftovers. “I got you food too,” he told her.
“Really?” Olivia looked on the verge of tears.
“Take whatever dish you want.”
“Thank you.” She fidgeted as if she might hug him, and Bel grabbed her boyfriend’s hand at the sight. Her partner was learning that Eamon wasn’t the monster she believed him to be. Their friendship had hope.
“Gee, it’s nice to be a pretty girl,” Griffin teased.
“I got food for everyone, calm down,” Eamon said.
“Everyone?” Griffin’s eyes flicked to the station outside his door.
“Don’t get greedy. I only just started liking you, and that’s because Isobel loves you both. Don’t push it.”
“Your boyfriend is a charmer,” Griffin laughed.
“Don’t insult him. Look where he ordered from.” Olivia’s eyes were wide enough to swallow the food whole. “My god, how much did this cost? We can’t—”
“Shhh, we can.” Griffin cut her off as he seized a container. “We definitely can. Thank you, Mr. Stone, for your support of the Bajka Police Department.”
“It always has my support,” he said, staring at Bel with such intensity that she had to break his gaze before the sheriff ordered them to get a room.
“I need a drink.” Bel snatched the chicken pasta dish off the desk and fled the office.
She’d have to talk to Eamon about showing up at her place of work dressed like sin with food in his hands and yearning in his eyes.
It would light her on fire in the middle of the station…
or get her fired for inappropriate workplace behavior.
“How’s the case going?” He asked as she slipped behind her desk after a quick visit to the beverage vending machine, and Bel thanked God that it was late.
The station was mostly empty, and no one was here to witness her gush as if she hadn’t spent almost every night with him for the past nine months.
“Frustrating.” She shrugged as Eamon pulled a chair way too close to hers.
She gave him a quick rundown, the irony not lost on her that she was giving a civilian the confidential details of an ongoing investigation inside the station.
“I don’t know; maybe Griffin’s right. The Mermaid Killer is meticulous and almost religious in his kills.
Is a twenty-eight-year-old hung up on dating girls too young for him really capable of that level of discipline? ”
“I like girls too young for me.” Eamon dragged his nose against her scars.
“That’s different.” Bel shoved him away, not so secretly hating that she was at work.
She wanted him to continue his path along her throat…
preferably keeping his suit on the entire time.
If she asked, he’d probably leave it on until she got home.
“In the mortal world, my frontal lobe is fully developed. I’m a full-blown adult who can make her own decisions, and I’m not easily manipulated. ”
“I wish you were,” Eamon laughed. “I might be able to convince you to stop giving me heart attacks.”
“You’d never love a woman who couldn’t stand up to you.”
“I absolutely love a woman who gives as good as she gets, but some men don’t. It seems this Erik is one of them.”
“But does it make him a killer?” Bel asked. “Did he choke Ariella to death? Did he sink those mermaids? Or is he just a guy with questionable dating tastes?”
“I haven’t met him, but you seem to have some doubts,” Eamon said. “What does your gut tell you?”
“He fits,” Bel said. “He really fits. I can make an argument for every single murder.”
“But…” Eamon knew her too well.
“But Griffin’s right. The mermaid killer is dedicated and precise. Is a man who hangs around college campuses capable of that level of morbid art?”
“Killers like that, like the Matchstick Girl and Mermaid Killers, are expert actors. They perfect a public persona to shield their true nature. You wonder if Erik dates teenagers to gain access to his victims, and if that’s the case, his entire personality is an act.
The playboy who can’t grow up. The good-looking guy who coasts on his sex appeal.
That’s what he lets you see, but the truth?
The truth is much darker. I would know. It’s how I live my life.
Except for you, the man people meet is a construct.
He’s a deliberate facade to hide the devil I really am.
So don’t take this Erik kid at face value.
He may be a single-faceted man who’s exactly the person you think he is, or he could be like me.
Pure evil hiding behind a carefully constructed mask. ”