40. Jasper
FORTY
JASPER
"Motherfucker thinks he can play house with my girl.
We'll see about that," I growl under my breath.
I watch Scarlett on the hidden cameras I installed while she was in the hospital, as she slowly moves through her home toward her bedroom, after eating the meal Xavier prepared for her using the groceries I left.
I should have realized that he wouldn't willingly leave her side after she was discharged.
He's like a goddamn tick, burrowing himself deep into her skin, and just like one, he's filled with poison.
I've had eyes on him the whole week at the hospital without him realizing it. Every move he now makes, I'm aware of. He thinks he's so slick, and has covered his tracks, but all of his lies are now unraveling for me.
Xavier Poine, or Xavier Messor, the name he was actually born with, has some rather impressive skills in deception, forgery, and online sleuthing.
I'll admit I missed the small details our forensic team had to dive deep into his background for, the first time I looked into him.
My team is still trying to decipher whether his whole life after the age of eighteen is completely made up.
What we were able to find were sealed records of Xavier's time in foster care, and the record of his mother's parental rights being severed, after neglect and abuse were uncovered, and he was taken away.
I even found his mother's death certificate.
She died tragically from a fall off a high-rise, apparently heavily intoxicated.
Every new detail is now suspicious and a red flag.
The man has had a lot of deaths, and unexplainable events happen around him.
It was only after digging deep into Xavier's childhood that I was able to find the link to Scarlett.
Apparently, they were both at the same foster home placement for a very short time, before it went up in flames, and the children were all relocated.
Xavier was no more than five, while Scarlett would have been a preteen.
There has to be something I'm missing. So what if they were both kids in a shitty foster placement?
That doesn't explain his obsessive attachment to her.
"Garnier, do we have an update on when Agent Lyssa will be returning?
" Director Shaw breaks through my thoughts as he approaches my desk, and I quickly place the screen lock on my phone, to stop him from seeing the unauthorized surveillance of my partner's house.
"Have we had any new developments on Ashmaker?
It worries me that he's been silent this long, after having escalated. "
I have a theory on why Ashmaker all of a sudden hasn't dropped any new bodies, and it all has to do with a white-haired cunt, but I'm not volunteering that information to Shaw.
"We're monitoring the situation, and going back through evidence from the most recent murders.
Perhaps he's lying low, or the bodies haven't been found yet. "
"Jesus fucking hell, Garnier! Get this maniac off the streets, or we'll both be out of a job, and tell Lyssa she needs to get her ass back to work.
A freak accident with her shower door is not reason enough to take a vacation when we have a serial killer on the loose!
" He doesn't even wait for a response before storming through the office and slamming his door shut.
Anger soars through me at the way he spoke about Scarlett, as if she would ever be one to take a vacation while on a case.
Asshole. I'm filled with annoyance that she covered for Xavier and me, about how she truly was hurt.
I can understand, though, that she's always been very private, and she wouldn't want either relationship to be known.
Relationship. Am I even in a relationship with Scarlett Lyssa?
I haven't even seen her in person since she came out of surgery.
I refuse to have to share a room with Xavier, knowing full well that it will lead to violence.
I stare back down at my screen, grimacing at the sight of Xavier washing dishes.
How fucking domesticated of him. I flip through the various cameras I hid and finally spot Scarlett.
She's standing in her bathroom at the counter, the door closed behind her, gazing at herself in the mirror with an expression I can't read.
Dark purple stains mar the space below her eyes, her skin looks even paler than usual, and I can tell she's lost weight.
She reaches forward, turning on the water to wash her face, as one of her hands rises and clutches her side.
Fuck, she's still in pain. Why the hell did the hospital discharge her?
"Douglas, get me the number of the surgeon who operated on Agent Lyssa!" I growl, and watch as poor Douglas almost spills his coffee in a haste to get back to his desk.
I bring the screen closer and realize she's speaking out loud.
Is she talking to herself? I quickly place an earbud in one ear and raise the volume to the max, so I can hear her.
Yeah, yeah, I know what I'm doing is a huge invasion of her privacy, but I don't give a fuck.
My little vixen is mine until I say otherwise, and at this point, I'll be six feet under before that ever happens.
"He means well, he's just, fuck... it's all too much.
" Is she talking about Xavier? God, I fucking hope so.
In fact, if she says out loud that she wants him out of there, my ass will be speeding to her house and physically removing him at gunpoint.
"No, you can't slice him open. Be reasonable. He just wants to help."
Slice him open? Did I hear that correctly?
Did she hit her head at some point? None of what she's saying is really making any sense.
"Yeah, I'm fucking mad at Jasper too. He didn't ghost us...
Hell, I don't know if he did or not. None of what's happening is making sense.
We both know he's hiding from me, and not working on the case. "
Naw, little vixen, I would never leave you.
I'm biding my time, and trying to figure out a way to get him out of the picture, so I can have you all to myself, and I am working on the case.
On the very real possibility that Xavier Poine is, in fact, Ashmaker, and while he's been busy doting on my Scarlett in the hospital, no new murders have been committed.
Everything is pointing in that direction, from all his lies, everything he's done to cover up his past, and even his connection to Scarlett, whom Ashmaker was leaving clues for.
It has to be that psychopath, but what I haven't been able to determine is who the accomplice is.
Either way, Scarlett is not safe, and I have to get her away from Xavier and protect her, but I need proof.
So far, other than a few coincidences, there isn't much, and I know Scarlett will blame jealousy as my motive to sever their ties.
Xavier's playing some sick game with her, maybe even infatuated with something that happened when they were kids.
He seems stable at the moment, but I'm guessing that's a mask he wears well, and anything could trigger him.
No one commits the type of brutality and violence he has inflicted on his victims and is sane.
Why kill men? Was Xavier abused as a child in the foster system, and is now seeking vengeance on pedophiles and rapists? I have to find the missing pieces. There's something important I'm not seeing. Something that will help me convince Scarlett that Xavier is dangerous.
"Douglas, pull up the information collected at the last crime scene, and get me a copy of the tape from the bike shop.
" I rub my tired eyes as I glance once more at Scarlett on the small screen, as she changes into a set of pajamas, and crawls under her sheets.
God, I wish I could go there, wrap my arms around her, and reassure her that everything is going to be alright.
A shadow crosses into the screen, and my jaw clenches so tightly that I hear a creak, as I realize it's Xavier, stripping off his shirt while he assesses Scarlett.
His pale skin is almost luminescent, just his full sleeves of dark tattoos breaking up all that white flesh.
I bring the screen closer as he moves into the center of the room, and I can see something on his back, but the video clarity isn't precise enough to hone in on it.
The glow from Scarlett's nightstand lamp makes his hair appear pure white, giving him an otherworldly feel, as if he stepped right out of a fantasy novel.
I watch with annoyance as he strips down to his boxers, and pulls the sheet back on the other side of the bed, Scarlett's dark eyes tracking his every movement, and desire unrepentantly on her features.
She bites down on her bottom lip as he reaches for her, pulls the pajama top off, and then strips her of her bottoms, leaving her bare, except for a pair of skimpy pink panties.
My throat goes utterly dry at how beautiful she is.
Her alabaster flesh glows, and all of her dark hair is spread against her white sheets in a dramatic contrast.
The white bandage on her side is her only blemish, but even with it, she's perfection.
My teeth clench so hard I fear they'll crack, as Xavier reaches out with a long finger, and traces it while staring right into her eyes.
He leans forward and kisses the bandage tenderly, before moving to her collarbone and nibbling.
He licks her neck before dragging his lips down the center of her chest as his hand kneads at her breast, then takes her hard nipple into his mouth.
I watch mesmerized as her head tips back, her lips opening in a gasp, as he plays with her other nipple, pinching and twisting it until it's a sharp, little point.