“Bub, you stay here,” I heard Pop order gently.
“Goin’ with Shambles,” Jonas muttered.
They were on the move so Pop said no more and I glanced at Pop and Stella then followed them.
Tate turned and opened the door, holding it for all of us to walk through. Shambles moved down the sidewalk several paces, stopped and turned. Jonas stopped close to his side. The rest of us formed a huddle. All eyes were on Tate but Tate was looking at Jonas.
“Bub, think you should –” he started.
“Stayin’ with Shambles,” Jonas cut him off.
Tate’s eyes stayed on his son half a second then they went to Shambles.
“We found her, man,” he said softly. “She’s alive, at the hospital –”
Shambles’s body appeared to melt and I moved quickly to him and slid an arm around his waist.
He gave me his weight and whispered, “Alive.”
“It’s not good, pal,” Wood told him gently. “She’s been attacked.”
I lost his weight as Shambles’s body went rigid against mine.
“Found her in the woods, ‘bout half a mile from the clearing. She’s been out in the elements all night. Stabbed, looks like five times, lost a lot of blood,” Frank added and my eyes shot to Tate.
He shook his head. “Stabbed, her hair shorn, but not like Tonia.”
This didn’t make sense but I didn’t care. Tonia had lived too, for awhile. But she’d been so brutally attacked, she didn’t make it. This sounded different. It sounded better. It was hideous but it was still better.
“We need to get you to the hospital, Shambles,” Tate went on. “Wood’s gonna drive your van. You come with Laurie and me.”
Shambles nodded but Jonas piped up.
“And me,” he stated.
“No, Bub, you stay with Pop tonight,” Tate replied quietly.
“I gotta stay with Shambles,” Jonas insisted and Tate opened his mouth to speak but Shambles spoke first.
“No, Little Dude, you stay with your Granddad.”
Jonas looked up at Shambles. “But –”
Shambles put a hand on top of his head. “Stay with your Granddad.”
Jonas stared at him a second then he nodded.
“I’ll get my bag,” I whispered and gave Shambles a squeeze. “Be right back.”
I let him go and dashed into the diner. I went straight to the table and Stella and Pop watched me from the minute I entered the diner to making it to the table.
“They found her. Stabbed. She’s alive, at the hospital. Not like Tonia. We’re going there now,” I looked at Pop. “Tate needs you to look after Jonas.”
“Sure thing, sweetheart,” he muttered, his eyes going beyond me.
I grabbed my bag and turned to see Tate and Jonas walking in, Tate’s arm around Jonas, hand on his shoulder.
“Laurie tell you?” Tate asked Pop when they hit the table.
“Yeah,” Pop answered.
“We’ll pick him up in the morning,” Tate finished.
“Right,” Pop said.
Tate turned his son into him, removed his arm but curled his fingers around Jonas’s shoulder.
“We’ll get you first thing,” Tate stated. “Bring you home then Laurie’ll make you French toast.”
Jonas nodded then he swallowed then he did a face plant in his father’s midriff and wrapped his arms around Tate’s waist. Tate’s arms circled his son and he gave him a squeeze.
He bent at the waist and I heard him whisper, “Who’s my big man?”
“Me,” Jonas whispered back.
“That’s right,” Tate replied, gave him another squeeze and let go.
Jonas took a step back and his head tipped to look up at his father. He swallowed again and turned to me. I lifted a hand and cupped the side of his face.
“See you tomorrow, honey.”
He nodded, hesitated and then did a face plant in me. My arms went around him and held him tight. I bent to press my cheek against his hair then I kissed the top of his head and he let go.
“Tomorrow, baby,” I whispered.
“Tomorrow, Laurie,” Jonas whispered back.
I touched his cheek again, dropped my hand and looked at Tate. He lifted an arm toward the door. I nodded and moved toward it, looking back over my shoulder at Jonas, Pop and Stella at the table. Stella had risen and was giving Jonas a sideways hug. I gave them a small smile. I turned forward, Tate opened the door for me and we walked into the falling night.
* * * * *
It was dark, we were driving through Carnal on our way home, Tate at the wheel at my side.
Sunny was stable. I spent my hours at the hospital with Shambles, Tate spent his with the police and FBI. Wood took Shambles home in Shambles’s van, Frank following in his cruiser to drop Wood back at the garage to get his bike.
Shambles got to see Sunny after she got out of surgery but she was sleeping and, after he visited with her, I urged him to go home, telling him I’d see him the next day. It took awhile to urge him to do this, explaining he needed his sleep, to rest and be strong for Sunny because she needed him. I finally broke through and he agreed, taking off with Wood and Frank.
I watched the hotel slide by, the pool lit, the parking lot lit, the hotel below average but the whole place kept neat and tidy, a riot of flowers blooming everywhere, the pool clean and bright, the waters tranquil, beckoning. It might not be the greatest hotel ever but just one look at it and you knew you’d be welcome there.
Staring at the pool as we passed, suddenly in my head I saw Neeta wrench Jonas’s arm and the memory of his wounded cry rang in my ears.
“Maybe we should stop by Pop’s, get Jonas,” I said softly.
“Hopefully he’s sleepin’,” Tate replied.
“But –”
“He’s had a tough day. Needs his sleep, Laurie,” Tate interrupted me. “We’ll get him first thing.”
I pressed my lips together then I sighed.
Then I agreed, “Okay.”
Tate flipped on his blinker and turned right into the hills.
“Tell me about Sunny,” I whispered.
“Ace –”
“Tell me.”
It was Tate’s turn to sigh, which he did, heavily, then he said, “Wood found her bike about ten minutes after you two left, before the cops got there. It was tossed into the trees. I found her clothes thrown not too far from the bike. He moved around a lot in those woods but trail wasn’t hard to follow, footprints, depressed grass, broken twigs. They sent two officers and we followed the trail. Found her, called the ambulance. Left her with the paramedics, I followed more trail. He took a different route to get back, came out at the clearing. Lost the trail at the road, he had a car.”
This wasn’t enough information. It was, on one hand. It wasn’t on the other.
“I don’t get it,” I said. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“I don’t either,” Tate replied.
“It’s not the same. Is this someone else?” I asked.
“Don’t know. Could be two things,” Tate answered and said no more.
“Those are?” I prompted.
Tate hesitated for long moments before going on. “Copycat who got started then figured out he doesn’t have a taste for it or doesn’t know the full MO or our boy is…” he trailed off.
“Tate,” I whispered.
“You wanna hear this shit?” he asked.
“No,” I answered. “But I have to.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“And I’m thinkin’ it’s better you keep not knowin’, Ace.”
I looked at him. “I don’t know why I have to know but I have to know.”
“Babe –”
“Tate, he’s hurting women, two of them I know. Please, honey, I have to know.”
Tate was silent for several beats then he asked, “Do you know what drawin’ down the sun means?”
“No,” I answered.
&n
bsp; “Sunbathing nude. Shambles and Sunny are naturists.”
“Oh,” I mumbled. “So?”
“I think our boy is local. I think this was an incident of opportunity. He’s got a problem with women who show skin, don’t follow convention. He sees Sunny in the nude, whatever fucked up shit in his head that drives him kicks in but he knows Sunny ain’t like all the rest. He can’t follow through. He follows his impulses but he can’t take it to climax.”
“He stabbed her five times,” I reminded Tate.
“Stabbed Tonia sixteen times and raped her with that knife,” Tate told me.
I sucked in breath then on the exhale breathed, “Sixteen? Really?”
“Yeah, babe,” Tate said softly. “Also took all her hair he could get with that knife. Only cut Sunny’s. Like he bunched it in his hand and sheared it off in one slice. But he didn’t take it all.”
“What does that mean?”
“The whole show is fucked, all over the place. Part of it is an effort at humiliation. Takin’ the hair, leavin’ ‘em naked and exposed. Part of it is sexual. All the victims had semen on them. Not in them, on them.”
“Oh God,” I whispered torn between sick disgust and horror.
“Yeah, fucked up shit. It’s brutal but every single one of them is left positioned the same. On their side, knees to their chest, hands tucked under their cheek. Gentle, almost respectful. Remorse. Remorse after he uses that knife instead of his dick and gets off on it. Remorse after he jacks off on them during or after.”
“Sunny?” I whispered.
“Didn’t violate her or come on her. Another change, he left a blanket with her. My guess, it was hers. She’d crawled, blood trail shows she got about fifteen feet, took the blanket with her but then she lost consciousness. The blanket, at least, offered some protection from exposure.”
I closed my eyes. “Thank God.”
“So we got DNA from the semen, we just got no matches. And that’s all we got. It’s like this guy doesn’t exist. Now we got boot prints and maybe more DNA on the blanket. They find somethin’, they’ll know if it’s the same guy.”
“You think he’s local?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you know anything about him?”
“Profilers think he’s able to assimilate. He’s one of us.”
I turned my head and stared at Tate, whispering, “What?”
“Not one victim, outside of Sunny, showed signs of struggle. We don’t know how he got them we just know he didn’t kidnap them, it wasn’t violent. He either knew them or he doesn’t pose a threat. He comes off as friendly. He might even be attractive. A good flirt. Turn a woman’s eye. Thinks she’s gonna get her some, not havin’ any clue.”
“So why did he struggle with Sunny?”
“He doesn’t act on instinct. He hunts. She was not planned. The urge hit him and he acted. Maybe she didn’t know him so she fought him. Shambles and Sunny picked that place because it’s off the beaten track. Not a lot of people come around there unless they live up the way. Even if they did, they’d have to be lookin’, the clearing is far enough from the road. He probably surprised her.”
“They didn’t question her,” I told him something he knew.
“She’s been out. They will soon’s they can.”
“Then it’s done? They’ll find him?”
“Unless I’m wrong, he didn’t come prepared. She’ll have seen him or somethin’ that identifies him. He fucked up. They always fuck up and he fucked up. Cops’re hopefully keepin’ an eye out. He knows he fucked up and he’s probably gone.”
“But he had a knife,” I pointed out.
“He uses a hunting knife. Probably keeps it clipped to his belt.”
“I still don’t get it. Why would he –?”
“Sometimes even monsters can feel the touch of a good soul,” Tate said gently. “Sunny’s a good soul. He’s convinced he’s doin’ right, teachin’ bad girls a lesson. He knew he had a good girl. He knew he was doin’ wrong. He did her there, right where we found her, left her bike, left her clothes, left the evidence of the struggle, left a trail. He’s smarter than that. Maybe he was freaked out or maybe, after what he did to Sunny, knowin’ she wasn’t his usual prey, that he hurt a good girl, he wants to get caught.”
I looked out the windshield as Tate turned into his drive. The entire time he drove down it and swung into the garage he opened with the remote, I thought about Sunny being a good soul but still finding herself attacked by a monster.
Tate switched off the truck, I grabbed my purse, hopped out and then opened the backdoor to reach in and grab one of our bags. Tate had the other one. He waited for me to precede him, I skirted my car in the garage and went to the mudroom. I dumped my purse and the bag on the floor the instant I got in.
“Toss that there, honey, I’ll worry about them tomorrow. I need a shower,” I murmured, not looking back as I walked into the hall. I kept going, flipping on the light switch by the dining room table.
Buster came out of the bedroom and stretched in the hall, booty in the air, paws straight out in front of her. She righted when I got close and asked a questioning “meow”.
I cooed nonsensically at her, leaving her for Tate who she preferred anyway. She liked me well enough but she definitely knew who her daddy was. I went into the bedroom, right to the nightstand where I switched on the light.
I started for the bathroom but got waylaid with an arm around my belly. I was pulled back, turned into Tate’s body and his arms curved around me.
“Tate,” I said looking up at him and putting my hands on his pectorals, “my hair is straggly, I still have chlorine on me. I need a –”
“You love me.”
My breath caught and my fingers automatically curled into fists against his chest.
“I –”
“Love me.”
“Tate,” I whispered.
“You said it, Ace.”
“It was the moment,” I quickly (and somewhat desperately) half-lied. It was the moment but it was also the truth. “I was having a good time with you and Jonas and I –”
“You protected him.”
I blinked then asked, “What?”
“When Neeta was there, fuck, before she even got there you had hold of him but after she did what she did, you got hold of him again and used your body to shield him.”
“That was messed up,” I said softly. “Anyone would do that.”
“Wasn’t anyone doin’ it, it was you. It was you doing handstands with him in the pool and you makin’ him eggs too.”
“Tate.”
“And bringin’ me coffee.” He paused, his face changed, shifted, that tender look came into it, not the soft and warm one, the tender one that was so sweet it made my heart stop beating and he kept talking quietly. “Long’s I can remember, he wakes rough. Takes him awhile to shake it off. You brought me coffee and left so I could be with him.”
“I didn’t know that, I just… I’m a waitress,” I explained lamely. “I bring people drinks. It’s instinct.”
He pressed his lips together.
Then he muttered, “Babe.”
“Tate,” I whispered. “I need a shower.”
Very unfortunately, he returned to his earlier subject. “You told me you love me.”
“Can we talk about that tomorrow?” I asked. “Or, um… the day after that?”
“No,” he answered.
“Captain, I was just… it was just… the moment.”
His brows drew together.
“So you don’t love me?”
My eyes slid to the side. “Well…”
“Lauren, eyes on me,” he ordered and of their own accord my eyes moved back to him and, with one look at him, my heart slid straight up into my throat.
His face was still tender but his eyes were intense, burning into mine.
His head bent and his face got close to mine.
“Say it again,” he demanded gently.
I felt
the pulse in my throat beating. I licked my lips and stared into his eyes.
“Baby, say it again,” he repeated.
“I don’t want –”
His arms gave me a squeeze.
“What’d I tell you?” he asked.
“About what?” I asked back, not following.
“About bein’ safe here,” he answered.
“This isn’t safe,” I whispered.
“Why not?”
“I’m out there,” I found my mouth admitting, unable to hold it back and then it kept talking. “You… I’m out there and it doesn’t feel safe.”
“Babe, you aren’t out there.” His arms gave me another squeeze. “You’re right here.”
“You know what I mean,” I said quietly.
“I need you to say it again,” he told me.
“Why?” I asked, my voice pitching higher.
“So I can say it back, Ace.”
My body locked and I stared up at him.
“You –?” I breathed.
“Yeah,” he cut me off.
Oh.
My.
God.
My body unlocked and melted into his.
“Really?” I whispered.
“Oh yeah,” he whispered back, starting to move, taking me with him, shuffling us toward the bathroom.
My eyes filled with tears.
His hands went into my t-shirt.
“Tate –”
“Time to shower.”
“Tate –”
I said no more because he kissed me. I kissed him back. Somehow he got us naked and in the shower. I wasn’t paying much attention because of what his hands and mouth were doing and because I was assisting in the getting us naked part. Once in the shower there was soap and shampoo, on both of us, but I didn’t pay much attention to that either.
My mind honed into my body around the time he lifted me with his hands at my behind, my legs went around his hips, he pressed me to the tiled wall and, with the water raining down on us, he slid inside.
I pressed my head against the tiles, held on tight with all my limbs and he moved in and out of me, gentle, slow.
“Work with me,” he said against my neck. “Touch your clit, baby.”
I did what he asked.
Brilliant. So brilliant, I moaned.
“That’s my girl,” he muttered, his head coming up, his cock sliding in and out, his mouth touched mine. “You’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you, Laurie?”