26. Delaney
CHAPTER 26
DELANEY
“I think we should head to San Diego.”
I scroll through the emails on my phone while Mark and Thorn argue about where we should head next. They’ve been fighting since we got in the car this morning. Hell, they’ve been at each other’s throats since we left Philadelphia two days ago. Mark wants to go to San Diego, and Thorn thinks the Phantom will strike in Nevada. They asked me for my opinion, but at this point, I have no clue which location is next. I don’t want another dead body on my conscience, and there’s absolutely nothing to go on.
“I gotta stop and get gas,” Thorn announces. “Anyone hungry?”
“Are we driving all night?” Mark asks.
I shrug. “Until we hear from Jez, we don’t know what direction to go.”
Thorn pulls off the exit. “Let’s get gas and food. We can regroup, check in with the club, and devise a plan for the night.”
After pulling into the gas station, Thorn fills the tank while Mark and I use the restroom. As we’re coming back, my phone chimes with an email notification. I climb into the front passenger seat and open my email app.
The sender information is blank, but the subject line reads The Phantom Strangler Strikes Again! My hand shakes as I open it to see a link is the only context.
Who would send this through my business website? Do I open it or forward it to Jez?
My curiosity gets the best of me, and before common sense kicks in, I click on the link. For a brief second, I wish I’d sent it to Jez. My eyes scan the article outlining the murder from Philly in perfect detail.
… the ligature pattern, a belt was used.
Blood was smeared across Davenport's breasts, and dried blood caked her thighs. In her mouth, a rolled-up piece of paper was found with the words: Soon my set will be complete.
The police have no suspects and no leads at this point. It seems the Phantom Strangler is one serial killer who will never be found.
“Holy shit,” I mumble as the blood drains from my face.
Thorn grabs my arm, startling me. I was so engrossed in reading the blog that I didn’t realize he got in the SUV. When he pulls me across the console, I settle on his lap, and he cups my cheeks. “What happened, De? Talk to me.”
I thrust my phone in his face. “How the fuck does he know all this?”
Thorn skims the article, his brows furrowing the more he reads. “I don’t know.” He pushes a button on the steering wheel. “Call Jez.”
I try to move back to the passenger seat as the car fills with the sound of a ringing phone, but Thorn grips my hips, keeping me in place. “Stay.”
I roll my eyes but do as he says because I need his touch right now. He rubs his hands up and down my arms.
“Are you gu?—”
“Jez, we gotta problem,” Thorn growls, cutting out the bullshit greetings.
Jez whistles. “You’re on speaker.”
“What’s going on, brother?” Soul inquires. “Everyone okay?”
“Delaney got an email from someone with a link to a blog,” Thorn starts. “The blog spells out the Philly murder in detail. How the hell did this asshole know to email De? Who is this fucker?”
“Someone fucking emailed her?” Soul asks incredulously.
The familiar sounds of someone clicking on a keyboard come through the speakers, as well as boots shuffling across a floor.
“De, don’t be mad,” Jez begins. “I just hacked into your email.”
“I don’t give a shit,” I reply. “What I want to know is, is this true? The details I mean?”
When we left Philadelphia, not much information had been released to the public. We could’ve stayed, but we decided to head west while we waited for Jez to hack into the police reports and a new location could be identified.
“I’m comparing the article to the police reports, and so far, the details match. It’s almost like this Morgan Ralph Stent, the author of the blog, has extensive knowledge of criminology. He, or she, sounds like they’re enthralled by the Phantom.”
“How can we find the person who sent it?”
“Every computer has a tracking feature on it just in case it’s ever stolen. You can disable it, but a lot of people forget to do that. The computer the email came from is currently in Seattle.”
“Soul, we’re heading to Seattle,” Thorn states
“Do you want me to send more brothers to meet you?” Soul asks.
“Between the three of us, I think we’ll be fine.”
“Keep me updated.”
Thorn disconnects the calls, and after a brief kiss, I climb back over to my seat.
A day and a half later, we coast into Seattle. We’re exhausted, but we have a murder to stop, and that fuels us to keep going.
Mark’s phone pings. “Jez booked us a hotel,” he says as he plugs the location into the GPS.
A half-hour later, we’re checked into our hotel, and it feels like déjà vu.
Thorn wraps his arms around my waist. “Are you tired?” he mumbles into my hair.
“No, but it’s early.” I turn to face him. “One of my clients owns a bookstore with his wife. Can we go see him? Maybe he can tell us where some hot spots are to check out.”
“Do you know where it is?”
I wave my cell. “Already pulled it up. Good news, it’s within walking distance. We don’t have to get back in the car.”
Mark knocks on the open adjoining door, and he’s covering his eyes. “You guys aren’t fucking are you?”
Thorn releases his hold on me, marches over to Mark, and smacks him in the back of his head. “Would the fucking door be unlocked if we were, dumbass?”
Mark drops his hand and rubs the back of his head. “I didn’t know.”
“How about waiting for an answer next time before barging in then?” My mouth curves up. “Unless you were hoping for a show.”
Thorn balls his fists, and Mark’s face pales. “Oh shit, no, no…that’s not…no way… are you trying to get me killed?”
I fling myself in front of Mark before Thorn can make a move. “I was teasing. Calm down.”
Thorn’s chest heaves. “Not funny.”
“It was kinda funny,” Mark adds.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Mark, you’re not helping.”
Mark dodges out of Thorn’s reach. “What’s the plan?”
I tell Mark that we’re going to the bookstore to see what information we can get before hitting the Seattle nightlife. I don’t express how excited I am to meet Mr. and Mrs. Barker, because at the end of the day, we’re here to catch a killer.
Twenty minutes later, we round the corner to walk down the block to the store. A huge crowd is gathered on the sidewalk, the sign to the bookstore is visible, but there are so many people that we can’t push through.
I stand on my toes. “What’s going on?”
Thorn frowns and pushes forward, holding my hand to drag me through the throng of spectators. “I don’t know.”
“Fuck,” Mark grumbles when he finally gets through and stops next to Thorn.
The entrance is blocked off by yellow police tape, but the glass storefront allows us to see inside. One body is already covered, and another is currently being tarped a few feet away. Blood is splattered everywhere, covering books, shelves, and the floor. I stumble backward, and Thorn spins me around quickly, pressing my head into his chest.
“I got you.”
Sobs wrack my body. Tears streak my face, but I make no attempt to wipe them away. I never want to show weakness, but at this moment, all I feel is sorrow. Thorn rubs my back in soothing circular motions as he holds me close.
It takes a few minutes for me to gather my bearings, but eventually, I hiccup and wipe my tear-streaked face with the back of my hands.
Mark flags down an officer who’s trying to keep the public behind the police line.
“What happened?” he asks the officer.
“Robbery.”
“Anything taken?” Thorn inquires.
“Why do you want to know?” The officer raises his brow, his mouth set in a firm line.
I push forward. “I know the victims.”
The officer’s eyes soften. “I’m sorry, honey. They were shot execution style. Dead by the time we got here.” He takes a deep breath. “Cash drawer was open but doesn’t look like anything was taken. The robber must’ve gotten spooked.”
“Thank you, Officer.” I link my fingers with Thorn’s, and grab Mark’s elbow. “Hotel, now.”
It’s too much of a coincidence.
My mind races as we rush back to the hotel. I keep my mouth shut until the door shuts softly behind me once we reach our room. I didn’t want to worry about someone overhearing me on the street.
Facing Thorn and Mark, I blurt, “It’s him.”
Thorn’s brows furrow, and he frowns. “De, we do?—”
“It’s the Phantom!” I shout.
Mark steps forward. “Why do you think that?”
I brush my hair out of my face. “Think about it. The Phantom is changing his game. The body that was discovered in Louisville—a location not on his map—and the victim in Philly who wasn’t targeted at his usual hunting ground, and now this… a fake robbery. You heard the cop, nothing was taken. He’s making a statement.”
Thorn rubs his temples. “Fuck, you’re right,” he concedes.
“I know I am. And here’s a question that scares the hell out of me. How the fuck did he know these two were my clients?”