Chapter Nine Cam #2
Which meant the Almines knew something. Or were something. Or had done something that connected all of this in a way that made someone very powerful very nervous.
And if Father Christopher was still alive, still operating, still protecting secrets with bribes, then St. Agnes wasn't just a group home where bad things happened to little girls.
It was something else. Something bigger.
Something that had roots that went deeper than a church basement and a nun with cold hands.
Biting my lip, I nodded. "Okay, okay. You're right. It probably is him. Let's go get the scumbag and make him talk. But back at the apartment, okay?"
We got back to the cliff, only to find Skeeter gone. Of course.
Lakey screamed and took off down the hill, following the only trail it had. The one Skeeter would have taken to run from us. I tried keeping up to her, but in this state, she was more monster than woman.
A roar shattered the silent chase, followed by muffled yells. Once I caught up, Lakey was sitting on his chest, beating the fuck out of him. Honestly, I had half the mind to let her continue but she needed him for more information.
"Lakes, baby. Easy." I said, prying her off him.
He coughed up blood and spat at her. "Fuck you both! I'm not telling either of you shits anything!"
She lunged, but I grabbed her wrist before she could hit him again. "Lakey, stop. We need him in one piece, remember?"
Reluctantly she stood up, and I bent down, hauling him to his feet. He never took his eyes off her. "You wanna tell us what we need to know?"
He shook his head. "I told you; I don't know anything else. He just paid me a lot of money not to find them. To lead whoever was looking in another direction, okay? Fuck." He spat out more blood. "You guys are fucking insane, okay, just leave me the fuck alone."
I grinned. "No, Skeeter. You're coming with us back to our place. Lakes, take the bike, I'll bring him."
She growl-screamed and took off towards where she stashed her bike.
"Come on, bestie. Let's go have dinner at my place, shall we? You owe us a meal, remember? Don't worry, I'll order take-out if you're a good boy."
He groaned but had no choice. It was this or unleashing Lakey on him again, and quite frankly, death by me was always the better choice. Lakey had a creative streak that I didn't and sometimes her kills were just a work of art. Like Killcasso. Or something.
"So, Skeeter. How's your love life?" I opened the passenger door and shoved him in before getting in my side and jumping the ignition. "Fucked any old biddies lately?"
"Fuck you, Cam. I did that ONE TIME."
"One time's a lot of time's when it comes to coming on someone's grandma." I snickered and began to drive.
He sat in the passenger seat with his arms crossed, blood crusting on his lip, one eye starting to swell from Lakey's fists. He looked pathetic. He was pathetic, but he was also, annoyingly, the only lead we had.
"You know, Skeets, I'm trying to be civil here. We could have left you at the cliff. Lakes wanted to. She had this whole thing planned with your kneecaps and a corkscrew, but I said no. I said, 'Skeeter's a good guy deep down, he'll come around.' Don't make me a liar."
"I literally told you everything I know."
"You told us a tall guy with silver hair and a cross on his car paid you to hide the Almines. That's not everything. That's a sentence. I want the essay."
"There is no essay! He showed up, gave me cash, told me to send anyone looking for the Almines somewhere else. That's it. I didn't ask questions because I'm not a fucking idiot."
"Debatable." I turned onto the main road. "How much did he pay you?"
Skeeter went quiet.
"Skeets."
"Ten grand." He said it to the window.
"Ten grand." I'd paid him five hundred for the whole list. Someone had paid him ten thousand. "And you didn't think that was weird? Some creepy fuck rolls up and drops ten G’s to hide a foster family that nobody gives a shit about?"
"Of course I thought it was weird! But I also thought it was ten grand and I like eating, so."
Fair point. I'd done worse for less.
The ten grand bothered me. Not the amount.
The intent. Someone had anticipated that we'd come looking.
Someone had known, before we knew, that we'd want the Almines.
That meant someone was watching us. Had been watching us.
Maybe since before the hit list. Maybe since before we started killing marks. Maybe since the beginning.
The thought made my grip tighten on the steering wheel until the plastic creaked.
And if Skeeter couldn't or wouldn't give us the information we needed, I'd find someone who would.
As much as killing our foster families was going to be satisfying, her real hatred burned for those nuns.
She'd kept their secrets locked tight in her chest and I intended on helping her exact revenge.
In the meantime, Skeeter was going to be very well taken care of, either in my house, giving me what I need, or at the bottom of the ocean, where the rest of the fucks who crossed us slept.
His choice.