Lethal Lies

  “Per my orders, I found Heath and his brothers right about the same time I started the game with you, but I didn’t want to bring them in yet. I would’ve lost some freedom if I’d succeeded so quickly. So I suggested to one of the families of my redheaded dates that they hire the Lost Bastards to find their daughter, to keep Heath close and on the case, where I could watch him and his brothers.” He grinned. “She was already dead at that point, and I was just maneuvering pieces into place like in chess.”

  Anya gagged.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, his gaze on the sloshing wine in her glass.

  She nodded. “I’m still feeling the effects of the gas you let loose. It’s made everything fuzzy and my muscles weak.”

  “Oh. I do apologize for that.” Concern filtered through his eyes now. “You should be all right by tomorrow.”

  His calm concern made her want to throw up. She couldn’t breathe. “I’m trying to understand why you got Lost Bastards involved in your, ah, game. You wanted Heath looking for you.”

  “It was only fair, since I’d been looking for him.” Daniel wiped his mouth, an odd glint in his eyes. “But I hadn’t expected that you’d go to bed with him so soon after Carl had broken your heart. You’ll have to purify yourself for me. Like you were when I first met you. Redheaded and oh so innocent.” His lip twisted, and his eyes hardened.

  Her stomach lurched, and she swallowed rapidly. If she threw up on the table, it’d probably piss him off. She had to take herself out of her own head and play the part right. “So you liked me because I was a pure redhead.”

  “Yes.” His gaze dropped to her breasts.

  Screams rose inside her, wanting out. She bit her tongue, and the coppery taste of blood centered her. “Was there a redhead in your life who wasn’t pure?”

  His gaze hardened to flint. “Watch yourself.”

  Her legs went weak. “I’m sorry.”

  His chin lifted. “Apology accepted.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered, pressing her knees together to keep her legs from trembling. “Why were you looking for Heath and his brothers?”

  “Now, that’s a smart question.” Daniel dug into his salad. “Heath, his brothers, and I were made by a woman named Isobel Madison. She spliced and diced genes to create us. I’m supposed to bring Heath home.”

  Anya choked on her wine and coughed, setting the glass down. “What?” she asked weakly.

  Daniel frowned at her wineglass. “You heard me.”

  How was that possible? “You’re one of those supersoldiers?”

  “Yes,” Daniel said smoothly. “Yet now I’m faced with a dilemma, right?”

  “What is that?” she asked weakly.

  “Now that you and I are together, I can’t have Heath at the new compound all the time, can I?”

  If she could just get him to trust her in some way, maybe she’d get a chance to escape. Somehow. “What’s your alternative?” she asked, trying to appear curious and not scared shitless.

  “I can call Sheriff Cobb instead of Dr. Madison, considering Sheriff Cobb wants Heath dead.” Alertness lit his gaze. “What do you think I should do?”

  She sensed the trap and scrambled to think of a way around it. “I thought they worked together.”

  “Heath told you about them?”

  She numbly nodded.

  “I didn’t figure you were that close.” Daniel set his knife on his plate. “That’s unfortunate.”

  Panic pricked along her skin. She had to bring the conversation back to him. “Is my intel wrong? Don’t Cobb and Madison work together?”

  “Sheriff Cobb and Dr. Madison. We use manners here,” Daniel said, his voice hard. He lifted his knife and pointed it at her. That knife had probably carved letters in women’s chests.

  Her hands went clammy. She couldn’t help but pant. “Of course. Sorry.”

  He waited a beat. “That’s the last apology I’ll accept from you tonight. They do work together, but they have different motivations regarding Heath and his brothers.” Daniel took another drink of wine. “The sheriff wants to torture and kill them, while Dr. Madison wants to bring them home to work for her and donate genetic material for the next generation of enhanced soldiers. It is a conundrum.”

  “I see,” Anya murmured weakly. She couldn’t let Cobb get to Heath. Her shoulders straightened. She’d do whatever she had to in order to protect him. “Do either the sheriff or the doctor know about your, ah, search for me? Your game?” Was that how she should put it?

  “No.” Daniel shrugged. “I need something that’s just mine.”

  Mine. There was that word he’d carved into his victims’ chests. Anya rubbed her collarbone, her mind blanking. She couldn’t continue to act normal.

  A phone trilled. Daniel pulled it from his slacks. He glanced at the screen and stood. “Finish your dinner so we can get on to the next part of our date.” Walking by her, he paused. “Try to escape, and I’ll make you pay in ways you can’t even imagine—and I have no intention of letting you die. Though you might beg for death.” He strode behind her, and the front door opened and closed.

  Cold air whispered around her, and she shivered. He wanted to hurt her. To make her pay for forgetting him and taking up with Heath. Anticipation had filled his voice.

  Tears blurred her vision, and she let herself shudder this time. How badly hurt was Heath? He’d been in the middle of an explosion, and it was unlikely he was even walking already. Nobody was that tough.

  She was on her own.

  Daniel scouted outside the cabin, paying no heed to the snow pelting down on him. Yet he didn’t want to appear disheveled during his date, so he pressed himself against the cabin and out of the wind. Threadbare eaves slightly protected him. “Dr. Madison. How may I be of service?”

  “What is going on in Snowville?” she asked, her voice higher than normal. “I saw Heath and Denver being carted out of a burning building—I watched it on the news. Where are you?”

  He kicked snow out of his way and angled further back to keep somewhat dry. “I saw the news but don’t know what happened. My guess is that they were messing with explosives they couldn’t handle and made a mistake.” It wasn’t as if those three had the lifelong training he’d enjoyed. They were amateurs. Strong and genetically enhanced amateurs, but still.

  The doctor seemed to hold her breath for a moment. “Can you get to them in the hospital?”

  “Negative,” Daniels said smoothly, wondering what Anya was doing at that very moment. Hopefully finishing her wine. “The FBI and local police are all over the hospital. Apparently Heath has been linked to the murder of his girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend. It’s all so reality television here in the Pacific Northwest.”

  The doctor didn’t laugh at his humor like she usually did.

  Daniel stood straighter, and his head brushed the eave. He ducked down lower to keep his hair smooth. Anya seemed to like him well groomed. “I’m outside the hospital right now, monitoring the situation. If you want me to conduct a full assault, I’ll do so. But I don’t know where Ryker is. Only Heath and Denver are being treated by the doctors.” Probably. He’d monitored the police scanner on his way out of town.

  She was silent.

  He shuffled his feet. “Dr. Madison?” He hated how tentative his voice sounded. If he wanted to take command of the military side of the compound, he needed to show her he could do it. “I think the better plan is to wait and see if Ryker shows up. Perhaps even the Gray brothers will arrive here to assist, considering they’ve connected.” No way would she be able to ignore that dangling carrot. She wanted the Gray brothers as much as the Lost boys.

  “Daniel, have you reported in to the sheriff?” she asked.

  “No. If he shows up here, I need directions from you.” Daniel eyed the snow-laden trees surrounding the summer cabin on the river. There were other cabins close by, but they were deserted for the winter. “Doctor?”

  “Whatever do you mean?” There was the
calculating tone he was accustomed to hearing from her.

  It was time to show her his loyalty and acumen. “Sheriff Cobb wants to torture and kill those brothers. You want them alive. At some point, you are going to have to make a decision. The sheriff or the Lost boys?” Daniel had planned to end the sheriff sometime, anyway, but it’d be easier all around if she ordered the kill.

  “I’m not ready to give up the sheriff, Daniel. If you truly want to run this compound, you need to give me what I want.” Her voice firmed like it had when she’d studied him as a child.

  Right now she wanted the impossible. “Only you can control the sheriff.” Daniel felt like he was nine years old again and had just disappointed her. He didn’t like to think how she controlled the men around her, although he’d probably have to satisfy her in that way at some point. He swallowed down nausea. If Anya turned out to be his soul mate, maybe he should just take her and start over like the Gray brothers had.

  He’d finally found his love. She was his and his only. Yet could he truly leave home? He growled and scrubbed a hand through his hair.

  His head hurt.

  “I know this is difficult, my boy,” Dr. Madison crooned. “We’ll figure it out.”

  He focused, and his headache whispered into nothingness. “Dr. Madison—”

  “Isobel. It’s time you called me Isobel, don’t you think?” she asked.

  He gulped. Desperation tore through him. He needed a redhead and now. That’s how he asserted control and became the man he was always supposed to be. “Isobel,” he repeated dutifully, feeling like a child again. His shoulders thumped against the icy log cabin as he tried to shrug away the sensation. He was a man, not a helpless child. There was a woman inside the cabin who made him feel like a man. His woman. She was made just for him.

  Isobel chuckled through the phone. He instantly went from thinking of her as Dr. Madison to using her given name, even in his own thoughts. His shoulders slumped. “What are your orders?”

  “Keep an eye on Heath and Denver, and try to find Ryker. I’m sending backup your way. Once they arrive, I want you to take all three men into custody, regardless of collateral damage or casualties.” Something clacked over the line, and he realized she was using her fingernail on a tablet. “Be vigilant, and if the Gray brothers make an appearance, let me know immediately.” She’d always valued the Gray brothers over all her other soldiers. That fact had stopped hurting him years ago.

  Mostly.

  “Understood.” Daniel wondered once again what type of skills they had that he lacked. He could create an assault plan in seconds, and he was brutal with a knife. Yet they’d always had something more. Did Heath and his brothers have more? Daniel rested his head back. He’d have to ask Anya. “If it comes down to your order or Sheriff Cobb’s wishes, what do you want me to do?”

  “We don’t have a new facility and compound without the Lost boys, Daniel. They are your primary objective,” she said.

  She was so matter-of-fact, having just given him the green light to kill Sheriff Cobb if necessary. Daniel let the cold air soothe his skin. He should probably be put off by her callousness, but he didn’t feel anything about killing her current lover. Oh, he had feelings, but they were all for the woman inside the cabin.

  All the good and all the bad feelings that bombarded him were hers. Only after finally fetching his soul mate had that powerful barrage finally calmed.

  Perhaps Anya could make his peace permanent. In fact, she would. No matter what he had to do to her.

  CHAPTER

  38

  Heath’s chest felt like he’d been kicked by an elephant, his shoulder burned, and the stitches itched at several places on his body. Nothing compared to the headache behind his eyes, however.

  “You have quite the setup in such a short amount of time,” Detective Malloy muttered, glancing at the computers in the bungalow’s otherwise empty living room. He shook snow off his trench coat. “I’m running to the office to see what the task force has drummed up. If I get information, I’ll make sure you have it.” He opened the front door, where the storm threw snow around like a popcorn popper. “If you get any sort of lead, you call.” The door shut quietly behind him.

  Heath sat at a computer, his fingers feeling numb as he booted it up. “We need anything we can find,” he said.

  Denver grunted, already setting up the rest of the computers. “I called the family who initially hired us on the Copper Killer case. A U.S. Marshal had passed on our contact information to them. The killer, one of Dr. Madison’s soldiers, set us up to be involved from the beginning.”

  A door opened to show a dingy kitchen, and Ryker strode inside with Zara on his heels. “We got all the computer stuff we could but now can’t get into either the real offices or the decoy ones. The cops are going through them both,” Ryker said grimly. “Anything?”

  “No,” Heath said, his gut churning. The killer had Anya. His arms felt paralyzed. “Denver?”

  “I’m accessing our main server,” Denver said tersely. “Don’t need the files from the office. Got them here.” He swept his hand across the screen, and all the files came into view on Heath’s screen. “Checking satellites and local cameras now.”

  “Thanks.” Heath still had Denver’s burner phone in his hand. “First send the surveillance video of Smithers and his buddy to Shane, would you? If Smithers is one of Dr. Madison’s soldiers, then Shane might know him. Any insight will be helpful.” He waited until Denver nodded. “I’ll be right back.” He stood and moved toward the kitchen.

  “Copy that,” Ryker said, taking his seat.

  Zara hovered at Ryker’s shoulder. “I don’t have anything to do. Give me something to do.” Her face held no color, and she worried her bottom lip with her teeth.

  Ryker pulled a chair out. “Sit here and go through the map of the town, making notes of banks and anywhere else there might be a camera. We’ll try to trace her that way.”

  Zara sat, her face pinched. “We’ll find her, Heath.”

  Heath limped through the kitchen and into the garage, where a rusty old heap was parked. He and his brothers couldn’t get access to their vehicles, damn it. He pressed a button on his phone, and within a second Shane’s face came into view. “I’m alone,” Heath said.

  Shane visibly took a deep breath. “Me too. Everybody knows about this, even Josie, but I don’t like talking about it.”

  Heath leaned against the door and tried to keep from falling on his ass. “Thanks for trusting me.”

  “We’re brothers.” Shane’s eyes darkened to a gray storm cloud. “Part of our training growing up was in how to seduce women and what to do with them after that.” He cleared his throat. “They had whores—a lot of them—meet with us a couple of times a week.”

  “Jesus.” The boys home had been horrible, but at least Heath and his brothers hadn’t gone through that. “I’m sorry, Shane.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” Shane’s jaw hardened. “One of the women was named Cinnamon, and I figured she used that name because she had red hair. Real red hair.” He blanched. “She was rough and really liked her job—and she often sighed the word ‘Mine’ during the, ah, the training.”

  Bile rose in Heath’s throat. “That is so fucked up.”

  Shane forced a smile. “No shit. But it’s a weird coincidence.”

  Heath nodded. “That at least explains why, I guess. The killer hated redheads and then met a sweet one, Anya, and he fixated. Denver is sending you a video of the killer. He masqueraded as a U.S. Marshal who was looking for us. He was caught on video.”

  Shane started moving, and the screen blurred. “Is Denver sending it right now?”

  “Should be there,” Heath said.

  Shane clomped down some stairs. “Hey, Mattie? Did you just get a video from Denver?” Shane held out the phone, and Matt, the oldest Gray brother, came into view.

  “Hey, Heath,” Matt said, his hard jaw set. “We’re ready to roll the second you need u
s.”

  Warmth bloomed through Heath. They weren’t alone—not by a long shot. Although Anya was. Fury cut through him. “Right now, I need intel. We have no clue where she’s been taken.”

  Matt turned to a computer screen and punched a couple of buttons. “Holy shit,” he muttered, his eyes widening.

  Heath dropped to sit on the stairs and fought the chill in the air. The garage was freaking cold. “I take it you know the fake U.S. Marshal D. J. Smithers?” he asked.

  Matt lifted the phone so only his face was visible. “Yeah. His real name is Daniel, and he’s still working with Dr. Madison, it looks like.”

  “He’s a lunatic,” Heath said.

  “Jesus,” Shane said, taking the phone. “He worked undercover with my wife for a while before I found her. God. To think he’s the Copper Killer.”

  Josie didn’t have red hair, and that alone had probably saved her life. “He just started killing recently, I think.”

  “Oh fuck,” Shane said grimly. “Doesn’t something trigger serial killers?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “The timing of this whole case,” Shane said, his eyes burning. “We killed the commander, and Daniel was always close to him. That had to be the trigger.”

  “Shane?” Matt said urgently. “If Daniel is working with Madison, then . . .”

  Shane gasped. “Maybe?”

  Heath leaned in. “What? Tell me. What?”

  Shane’s expression turned thoughtful. “Dr. Madison has always liked to keep track of her soldiers. She tagged us. If Daniel is working for Madison, she has him tagged somewhere. A microchip . . . under the skin. The guy probably doesn’t even know it’s there.”

  For the first time in hours, hope rushed through Heath. “If he’s gone off the grid, as we know he has, maybe she activated it?”

  “Definitely,” Shane said. “Listen. An activated tracker has a frequency, and we can find it. The signal would use radio-frequency identification. I mean, it’s a long shot, but a tracker would send out a signal. We just have to find the right frequency and hope it’s activated.”