Shadow of Vengeance (3 page)

Will he come for me this year?

While he’d bet there were a few young men who worried, they wouldn’t have to concern themselves any longer. He’d taken his pledge. By noon today, word of the boy’s disappearance would reach every corner of the campus and county. And so it would begin.
 

Seven days of torture.
 

Seven days of hell.

The front door opened, sending in a loud gust of wind, then quickly shut.

“Junior?” he called as he left the kitchen and moved down the hallway into the foyer. He stopped, leaned against the stair rails and eyed his favorite mistake. “What have you learned?”

 
“They found Sean Davis late last night. He’s recovering at Dixon Medical Center. Depending on the severity of the concussion, he’ll likely be released in a few days.”

“And the note?”

“Sheriff Tyler didn’t mention it, but it’s obvious he found it. Around four this morning, he questioned the boys at the Eta Tau Zeta house, as well as the RA and some of the kids living at the dorm.”

He sipped his coffee, then said, “I wonder if our dedicated sheriff has tried to contact his family.”

“Davis’s?”

Waving his hand, he shook his head. “I don’t care about that whiney, little skid mark. Idiot, I’m referring to our pledge.”
   

“Yes, sir.” Junior looked to the floor. “Sorry. I don’t know. As you’re aware, the university administration offices open at eight. I wouldn’t be surprised if they receive a call from the sheriff then. Does he need Josh’s parents to file a missing person report?”

The mug, filled with his delicious coffee, smashed and splattered on the tile. In an instant he had Junior by the throat and up against the door. “
Pledge
,” he said, and tightened his grip. “
That
is his new name.
That
is what you will call him. Do you understand?”

Junior nodded, and whispered, “Yes, sir.”

He reined in his anger and loosened his hold. “Josh Conway is dead, figuratively speaking of course,” he said, calmer now, and stepped over the mess on the floor.

“Yes, of course.”

Turning his back, he walked down the hallway toward the kitchen for a new cup of coffee, but stopped at the threshold. “Clean up the mess you caused and meet me in the basement.”

“I thought we wouldn’t begin with the pledge until this evening.”

“You’re right, we won’t. But he must be given a taste of what’s to come.”

*

Owen Malcolm stifled a yawn and waited for Ian Scott, his boss and founder of CORE, to end his phone conversation. He glanced around Ian’s luxurious, yet comfortable office, particularly at the large, leather sofa near the fireplace, and ached for a nap. Not about to curl up on his boss’s sofa, he leaned into the plush office chair instead.

The past couple months of travelling might have finally caught up with him. November, there had been California and Las Vegas. December had him in San Antonio for a few weeks, then from there, he’d flown to Virginia to spend the holidays with his family.
 

While he’d loved visiting his parents, sisters and nieces and nephews, he couldn’t count the trip as a vacation. If he hadn’t been working odd jobs around the house for his mom and dad, his sisters had been ushering him, and his nieces and nephews, to the obnoxiously loud, germ- and kid-infested Play World. How many times can a kid go on the same humungous, inflatable slide without growing sick of it? Infinity, he assumed, because his sisters’ kids never stopped until they’d left, then had begged to go back the next day.

He’d take the raucous Play World over this last assignment, though. While Miami in January had its perks, beautiful, warm beaches, wild nightlife, and even wilder women, he didn’t have the chance to enjoy any of it. Instead, he’d spent three weeks helping the Miami-Dade police track down the man who’d been robbing, raping, then murdering elderly women. He’d found the guy. But the prick had put a bullet into his head before the police could arrest him. The suicide might not give the victims’ families total closure, but it had made his part in the investigation easier. Now he wouldn’t have to travel back to Florida for a long, drawn-out trial.
 

He looked out Ian’s office window. Nothing but gray sky. Maybe a long, drawn-out trial in Miami wouldn’t have been such a bad thing. Chicago plus January equaled snow and freezing temperatures.

Ian hung up the phone. “How was Florida?” he asked.

Owen straightened. “I didn’t get much of a chance to work on my tan,” he said, then leaned forward and handed him the case file.

Ian glanced through the paperwork. “When did you get back?”

He looked at the clock. “My flight got in about an hour ago. I haven’t even been to my condo yet.”

Arching his black brows, Ian leaned into his chair and shrugged. “Go home then.”

“I didn’t mean to imply—”

Ian shook his head and offered him a slight smile. “I know you didn’t.”

“Then why are you sending me home without giving me my next assignment?” In the six years he’d worked for Ian, other than his annual holiday trip to see the family and the occasional vacation, he’d never ended a case without being handed another.

And he needed another.

When he visited his folks, they kept him too busy to think. When he took a vacation, he always made sure they were well-scheduled trips, packed with a full itinerary. Downtime, lounging on the beach or poolside, didn’t work for him. If he stopped moving, his mind would go into overdrive. Bringing up the past. His mistakes. His regrets.

Ian moved, as if to run his hand through his salt and pepper hair, then instead, scratched the back of his head. “I don’t have anything for you.”

During his time with CORE, he’d only seen one member of the team let go. And it had started with, “I don’t have anything for you.”

Flashbacks from his days with the U.S. Secret Service suddenly shifted through his head. The cover-ups. The bullshit. The lies and dismissal.

He’d been loyal to Ian because the man had helped him salvage his career. His boss could be manipulative, but it was done with purpose. Ian, although not as blunt as he’d like, was still an excellent employer. He didn’t want to lose his job with CORE. Sure, with his background, he could find a position with another private agency, but he had no interest in working elsewhere. CORE had become his life. He liked his fellow agents, his hefty salary, the bonuses and the benefits.
 

“Is this the start of your firing process?”

Ian’s bark of laughter filled the office. “God, no. Why in the hell would I fire you? I can work you like a dog, and you never complain.
I
have no complaints.” He grew serious, then said, “You’ve been working cases back-to-back, and I don’t want you to burn out. I thought you could use a week to regroup. Paid, of course.”

Most people would have jumped at the opportunity of paid time off. And while he appreciated Ian’s intentions, he didn’t want a break. He’d rather work. The assignments kept his mind busy, his thoughts focused.
 

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m good.”

Ian eyed him, then nodded. “If you change your mind, just let me know. Meanwhile, I have an interesting cold case that needs solving.” He pulled a file from the drawer and set it on the desk.

Owen liked cold cases, especially the older ones where modern day technology hadn’t quite been invented. They were like puzzles. He enjoyed sifting through old paperwork, crime scene photos, and evidence. Seeing what fit and what didn’t, then solving what no one else could.
 

 
A rap at the door caught his attention. As he turned, Rachel burst into the room. She came to an abrupt halt when she saw him, then looked to Ian.

“Sorry, Ian. I don’t mean to interrupt, but I…” She looked away, stared out the window, then reached for the pencil tucked behind her ear.

Something had Beaver upset. Not once, during the four years Rachel had worked for CORE, had Owen ever seen her at a loss for words. The woman always had something to say, and had an annoying habit of doing so over a mouthful of pencil.

“I can come back,” Owen said, sensing Rachel might want a moment alone with Ian.

“No, actually, I wouldn’t mind if you stayed. I might be able to use your help.”

Interesting. Rachel never liked having him around, and rarely asked him for help with anything. Why, he didn’t know. All he knew was that whenever he walked into the room, she threw verbal jabs, snarky uppercuts, and sarcastic hooks. He didn’t care, and actually liked Rachel. Although a bit…mouthy, he couldn’t deny her capabilities as CORE’s computer forensics analyst, plus he admired her intelligence and her quick-working mind.
 

“I’d be glad to help,” he said, still dumbfounded that she’d willingly have him part of the conversation.
 

She moved to the leather office chair next to him, then sat. “Yeah, well, no one else is here yet, so I have no choice.”
 

So much for thinking she’d been interested in
his
expertise.
 

“What’s going on?” Ian asked her.

“It’s my brother,” she began. “Late last night, he was found on the side of the road just outside of Bola, Michigan, beaten and unconscious.”

“My God, Rachel,” Ian said, and leaned forward. “How’s his condition?”

“He’s okay. I’ll know more when I see him.”

Ian nodded. “Absolutely. Take all the time you need. It’s a long drive to Bola. If you want to use the jet, feel free.”

She smiled and shook her head. “Thank you, but I’m going to drive. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone, and I don’t want to deal with a rental.”

“Understood,” Ian said.
 

“I’m sorry about your brother,” Owen said, and meant it. He had three older sisters, and if anything bad had happened to them, he’d be devastated. And out for blood. While he doubted he’d ever have a family of his own, his parents, his sisters and their kids, meant everything to him. They accepted and loved him, faults and all. He knew Rachel had basically raised her brother, and couldn’t imagine how she must be feeling. “Do you have any idea who did this to him?”

“The sheriff I spoke with doesn’t have any leads. That’s why I wanted you to stick around. I…ah.” She paused and glanced to the ceiling. Seconds later she looked at him. “I’d like your advice.”

 
Seriously interesting. Most times when he offered his opinion, she’d somehow find a way to either dismiss him or cut him down.
 

“When I get to Bola I plan to investigate my brother’s beating,” she continued. “I know where to start, and have already begun a list of the people I want to interview.”

“Are you planning on running this investigation on behalf of CORE?” Ian asked.

She tapped the pencil to her lips. “Are you okay with that? If not, I can—”

Ian waved a hand. “Our resources are yours.”

She tucked the pencil behind her ear. “Thank you. I have a feeling I’m going to need it. Sean’s beating…based on what the sheriff told me, I don’t think it was random.”

“Why’s that?” Owen asked.

“The sheriff said they found a note stuffed in Sean’s pocket. It said, ‘Welcome to Hell Week. You have seven days to find him.’”

“But they obviously found your brother,” Owen countered.

“Right. They found Sean. His roommate, Josh Conway, is missing.”

“Could this roommate have gone home for the weekend?” he asked.

“No. Sean told me his parents are overseas.”

“Didn’t you tell me that Sean planned to join a fraternity?” Ian asked.
 

“Yes. The Eta Tau Zetas”

“Based on the Hell Week reference,” Ian began. “Is it possible that this could have been a hazing gone bad?”

 
She nodded, and hugged herself. “I thought about that, only…”

“What?” Owen asked.

“The sheriff said that over the last twenty years, nine male students from Wexman University have gone missing. Josh makes ten. These students always disappear in January. And with every one of these missing boys, the same note was left behind.”

Owen rubbed his jaw, both confused and disturbed. “You’re telling us that nine guys go missing, the same time of year, with the same message left behind…have any of the bodies been discovered?”

“No.”

“Does this sheriff realize he has a possible serial killer in his county?” he asked, surprised that Bola, Michigan’s local law enforcement, hell, even the university, hadn’t pieced the obvious together and asked for outside help.

“He’s well aware.”

Irritated at the sheriff’s ineptness, he leaned forward and asked, “Then why not bring in the Michigan State Police?”
     

“The sheriff tried that route. I’m still confused as to what happened when they participated in the investigation.” She faced Ian. “I have vacation time, and you said I can use CORE’s resources. The sheriff can’t afford to pay us, but if it’s okay with you, I want to investigate what’s happening in Bola and find Sean’s roommate.”