Dead Don't Lie (24 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

A
MILLION
TINY
razors pricking all at once, all over her skin, woke Evelyn. She stirred, groggy. Her head pounded. Everything hurt. A herd of elephants stomping on her brain would’ve felt better than the present throbbing in her skull. She blinked against the dull light in the room and squeezed her eyes tight. She shifted and tried to move, but her muscles shrieked. She went from groggy to alert in a microsecond. Her legs were shackled together and her wrists clamped tightly behind her.

Breathe.

She twisted, turned, flipped to her side and came nose-to-nose with her elderly neighbor, Craig. He stared at her with shocked, vacant eyes, a single bullet hole in his wrinkled forehead. Evelyn screamed a noiseless scream. The duct tape across her mouth prevented any sound from escaping her parched throat. She bucked against her restraints, desperate to get away from the corpse touching her. She kicked her feet and tumbled from the bed. The wind left her as she hit the floor.

Collecting her breath, she listened and watched the door. If anyone were here—
and where was here?
—they’d surely come to check on her.

Heavy footsteps sent her heart into her throat. She pulled at her wrist constraints. They didn’t budge. The footsteps came closer. With each heavy step, her pulse jumped. She pushed with her bound feet, awkwardly scooting across the floor, eyes never leaving the closed door, until her body pressed against the far wall. Her back covered, she commanded her racing heart to settle. It refused to cooperate.

The door swung open. The man who’d attacked her stood at the entrance. Panic tightened its firm grip around her mind. He was a mountain of a man. His head almost reached the top of the door frame, his wide shoulders straining against the black T-shirt he wore. Vibrant tribal tattoos covered his massive arms. His hands fisted at his sides and his mouth twisted in a cruel smile. His brown eyes were those of a killer—cold, calculated and deadly.

He pinned her with his glare and her skin crawled. She looked away. Dread clawed at her throat.

He approached her.

“Well, well. How’d you get down there?”

He hauled her up and threw her back onto the bed. She bounced, every muscle in her screeching at the sudden movement. Craig rolled onto her legs. She bucked and fought to get the dead man off her.

Her abductor laughed, then ripped off the duct tape.

She gasped. Her skin burned where the tape tore her skin raw. “Who are you? Why are you doing this?”

He pushed Craig off the bed. The body landed with a hard thump.
How long had Craig been dead?

Her abductor sat next to her. “No need for formal introductions. It’s actually quite simple, Evelyn. You took my family from me, so I took yours from you. Twice.”

His words felt like a wrecking ball slamming into her gut. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. She went numb.
This
was the man? Her mind raced to catch up to her waking horror. This was the man who’d stolen her family, who’d taken her precious Olivia from her.

“That’s right.
I
took your family. Me.” He grabbed her roughly on the chin, jerked her head up and pushed his face close to hers. “Mystery solved. I killed your fucking family.”

She fought against her restraints, raw vengeance pushing at her. “I’ll kill you, you bastard.”

“Somehow I doubt that. You haven’t been able to save a single person I’ve set my sights on.”

Guilt crashed into her. She went still. He was right. She’d failed them—all of them. She closed her eyes.

“What? That’s it? I figured you’d put up more of a fight. How disappointing.”

She felt the bed shift as he got up. She opened her eyes.

“Why those other families?” She pushed the question out through clenched teeth, desperate to know.

“I had to get your attention somehow.”

Her stomach heaved. She swallowed back the sob lodged in her throat. “And Ryan’s?”

Her abductor’s face grew cold, hard. His eyes glinted. “He pissed me off with all that talk about being smarter than me. I had to teach him a lesson. Just as I’ll teach you one.”

He returned to the bed and picked up the tape. She thrashed her head back and forth. “Hold still.”

She fought harder.

“Hold still!” His fist came down, hard. Her cheek exploded in pain. She went limp. He covered her mouth with the duct tape, then smacked her burning cheek. “Can’t have you raising hell, now, can we?”

He moved toward the door, stopped and turned.

“On second thought...” He looked at her. The coldness in his eyes chilled her to the bone. He pushed her facedown onto the bed. Her heart raced. He jerked up her bound wrists and cuffed them to the bedpost. “Can’t have you escaping out the window, either.”

He left her there, slamming the door behind him.

When his footsteps faded, Evelyn fought against her restraints until stars danced behind her eyelids and biting pain stole her breath. She didn’t know how, but she eventually dozed off, only to be awakened some time later by the feel of his hands on her.

“Now, it’s time to teach you your first lesson.”

He tossed a knife from hand to hand. Evelyn watched the blade closely. Her pulse pounded in her ears. He took the knife and drew the edge along her collarbone, pressing it into the soft part of her throat. She felt its bite, but didn’t dare swallow, or move. Or even breathe. He traced the knife up her throat. She tilted her chin. He cut at her clothing, then yanked the tattered pieces and dropped them to the floor. Her heart seized in her chest. He slipped the edge of the knife under her bra strap, and every muscle in her body tightened. He looked down at her, laughing as he cut it away. Cold air washed over her exposed breasts, and they responded in kind. Heat rushed her face.

He drew the knife in a figure eight around her breasts, nicking one nipple. She sucked in a breath, swallowed the pain. He trailed the sharp blade down her sternum, past her navel. He pushed it under the edge of her panties, cut through the thin fabric and pulled them from her body.

Evelyn’s breath hitched. Her mind tumbled over itself.

He set aside the knife, then reached for her. She twisted her head to look away.

She was powerless against his touch, couldn’t defend herself. She wanted to cry, to sob uncontrollably. But that would’ve only given him satisfaction and fed his twisted need for revenge and power.
He will not rape me.
It was the only thought she could focus on, the only thought she could draw strength from. So she repeated it over and over in her mind...and she fought like hell.

He struggled against her wild thrashing. “Bitch, hold still.”

She fought harder, ignored the fire in her muscles. She bucked against the cuffs, her shoulders screaming. If she was going to die, she was going to die fighting this bastard.

He pulled out a gun from his waistband and pistol-whipped her once, twice, three times. Her vision blurred and she slumped over. She willed herself to sit back up, but her muscles refused to act.

Evelyn felt him unlock the cuffs anchoring her to the bed and pull her off it, onto her feet. Her bound legs wobbled beneath her. Her body wouldn’t respond to her mental commands. Her legs buckled. Her captor laughed, then yanked her to her feet again. Evelyn wept on the inside as he hauled her out of the room toward the steps. He forced her, naked, battered and defenseless, in front of him. Her legs barely kept her weight up. At the top of the steps, she froze. She stared down the wooden steps, her heart thumping in her chest.
How was she supposed to get down them? Hop?
Her eyes filled again as embarrassment crashed over her.

“Move it.” He prodded her with the tip of his knife. Its sharp tip cut into the softness of her back.

She tentatively hopped from one step to the next, down the wooden stairs. Her breasts bounced with each jump. Cruel laughter echoed in her ears. She clenched her teeth, ignored his taunting.

Five steps from the bottom, he pushed.

Evelyn went flying. Her head connected with the wood floor.

Her world went black.

CHAPTER FORTY

M
ARCUS
HADN
’
T
WAITED
for backup. Urgency to find Evelyn, to hold her in his arms, drove at him relentlessly bombarding his conscious thoughts. With Derek and Fin, he’d raced to the address in Woodmont Beach. The apartment they found was immaculate and tiny. Marcus had taken the right, Derek the left. Fin covered the front door.

Derek stuck his head out a bedroom door. “Marcus, you need to see this.”

Marcus made his way toward his brother. “Fin, call it in. Let the captain know she isn’t here. Cancel the backup.”

Fin nodded, then reached for his radio.

Derek led Marcus into the smaller bedroom.

Photos—some black-and-white, others vibrant colors—covered two full walls of the cramped bedroom. Every single one of them showcased a different angle of Evelyn: Evelyn glancing over her shoulder while walking down Pike Place Market; Evelyn walking out of the original Starbucks, juggling a latte in one hand; Evelyn sitting on her front porch, rocking in the worn, green rocker; Evelyn coming out of the precinct, exhaustion clearly written over her face; Evelyn running down the beach.

Marcus felt sick. His throat tightened. He stared at the images of the woman with whom he’d completely fallen in love. How was it possible it had only been a few short weeks since he first laid eyes on her? His pulse quickened. It felt like she’d been part of his life for years. The thought of her not being next to him for the rest of his life sent ice into his veins.

He’d never known true heartache before.

He did now.

He couldn’t lose her. He had to find her. Would find her. He turned back to the wall of photos, bile rising in his throat.

“Son of a bitch.” The last photo had been taken the day of Ryan’s funeral. In full parade dress, Evelyn sagged, crumpled in Marcus’s arms. His temper flared. He yanked it off the wall.

“This guy has been stalking her for a long time, Marcus.” Derek walked up. “I know I don’t have to say this—”

“Then don’t.”

Derek sighed. “The urgency to find her just quadrupled. Now that he has her, that the chase has ended and he’s finally proven he’s the alpha hunter, he’ll tire quickly....”

His heart jumped into his throat, choking him. He swallowed down the fear. “And kill her.”

“Yes, and judging by those photos...”

Every one of them had been mutilated. The place where her heart had been was carved out. Red marks were drawn crudely over her arms and legs. The word
bitch
was scrawled across several of them, and there were knife slashes through all of them.

Derek shook his head. “He’ll make it as painful as humanly possible.”

“There’s nothing human about this bastard.”

“That’s why we have to find her.”

“Sir.” Fin stuck his head into the room, caught sight of the photos. His eyes grew large. “What the f—”

“What is it?” Marcus asked.

Fin straightened his shoulders. “Just got a call. They found another land parcel that belongs to Nick McClain’s great-aunt. She’s dead. The house is supposedly vacant.”

“That’s where he has her,” Derek said.

“Send me the address.” Marcus started for the front door.

“Already done, sir.”

Marcus turned and glanced back at Fin. The kid was impressive. “Good man. Care to take a ride?”

Fin nodded. “I thought you’d never ask. I owe Detective Davis.”

“I already told you, Fin. It could’ve happened to anyone.”

Fin looked Marcus in the eyes. “But it happened to
me.
And I need to make it right.”

Marcus couldn’t argue with Fin’s logic—he shared it. “Then let’s go get her. You drive.”

“Shouldn’t we call for backup?” Fin followed Marcus through the front door and down the steps.

“We will, on our way.” He opened the car door.

He got in, then pulled the door shut. Derek sat behind him. He leaned in close. “How many men are here again?”

“Don’t be an ass. You know there’s three.”

“Marcus,” Derek spoke quietly. “That’s not a lot of manpower.”

Marcus glanced over his shoulder and shot him a scorching glare. “Given the circumstances, it’s better than nothing. Evelyn needs us there, now. Not in a few hours. Now.”

Derek held up his hands, then sat back. “Okay. Let’s ride.”

They talked through a thin tactical plan, then rode in silence. Marcus’s phone rang. He picked up before it had time to ring twice. “Talk to me.”

“I was right,” Alexis said. “This is one instance when I wish I weren’t, but I am. Someone hacked into that file I sent and swapped out the photos.”

“Did you find the correct one?”

She hesitated. “Yes.”

“Good, send it.”

“Sending now. I should have caught it sooner. MK, I’m so sorry.” He could hear she was close to tears.

“Alexis?”

“Yeah?”

“No one else would have been able to see that shadow. You did a good job.”

“Be safe,” she whispered.

“When are we not?”

Silence met him.

He sighed. “We’ll be safe. I promise.”

“You better be.”

Alexis’s email came through quickly. Marcus hit the links and waited for them to download. A soft chirp announced they were done. Marcus looked down.

Ed Meyer, Evelyn’s neighbor, stared back at him.

Marcus’s heart seized.

“Son of a bitch.”

Derek glanced up from his notes.

“Fin, turn around,” Marcus said.

Fin’s eyebrows scrunched together. He glanced over at Marcus. “Sir, with all due respect, we’re only ten minutes from this address. If Evelyn’s there, we need to keep going. She needs us.”

“Turn around. They won’t be there.”

Derek set his papers down. “Marcus?”

“Turn the fuck around,” Marcus yelled. “Now.”

Fin jerked the wheel, spun the car around one hundred and eighty degrees and floored it. “Sir? Where am I going?”

“Head back to Evelyn’s place. Step on it.” Marcus slammed his fist against the dashboard. “Call the team. Have them proceed to the original location. But it’s only a precaution. They won’t find her.”

“Take a look.” He tossed the phone back to Derek and swore again. “The bastard has her next door.”