The Intended Victim Page 19

  It wasn’t until the gush of warm blood flowed down her neck and drenched her sweater beneath her parka that she finally understood.

  This wasn’t a rehearsal.

  It was the finale.

  * * *

  Jax was sound asleep when his phone rang. It wasn’t unusual to have his night interrupted, but he wasn’t on call, so he knew as soon as he opened his eyes that it had to do with the Butcher.

  Crawling out of bed, he stretched his muscles, which felt stiffer than usual, and pounded down a large mug of coffee as he pulled on his clothes. He tried not to think how much harder it was every year to get himself moving as he headed to his car and drove across town. Or how he was shivering despite the fact that he had the heater blowing at full force.

  He was getting old. No doubt about it.

  Thankfully, he’d shaken off most of his aches and pains by the time he reached the abandoned lot. Climbing out of the car, he weaved his way through the cluster of gawkers, cops, and paramedics to take charge of the crime scene.

  He crossed to the center of the lot, not surprised to discover the young, dark-haired woman with her throat cut. Still, he felt as if he’d been punched in the gut as the lights the patrol had set around the area revealed the female’s features. She looked like Remi. Not an exact replica. But closer than mere coincidence.

  Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to concentrate on gathering the evidence and sending the uniforms to canvas the area. The bastard was bound to make a mistake at some point. No one was perfect. He just had to be diligent enough to catch it when it happened.

  It was still dark when he at last returned to his car, although there was a hint of a predawn glow at the edge of the horizon. He hesitated. He could go home and try to get a couple of hours sleep. Or head to the office. Or . . .

  He put his car in gear and headed for the distant suburb.

  Another innocent girl with her throat slit and the telltale mark on her breast. He was done with this shit. It was time to start rattling some cages to see what fell out. And he knew exactly who would be willing to help.

  Pulling out his phone, he called Ash. He didn’t want to bang on the door and scare poor Remi.

  Twenty-five minutes later, he pulled next to the curb in front of the bi-level house and climbed out of the car. The door to the house was opened as he stepped onto the porch and Ash was outlined by a dim table lamp. He was wearing a pair of jogging pants and his hair was mussed. Clearly, he’d just crawled out of bed.

  “Come in,” he invited Jax, closing the door behind his brother and resting a hand on a large dog that was eyeing Jax with steady suspicion. “This is Buddy.”

  “Hey, big boy.” Jax held out his hand, waiting for the dog to give a cautious sniff before he scratched the animal behind his ear. Buddy remained watchful, but he settled down next to Ash. Jax lifted his head to meet his brother’s gaze. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

  Ash folded his arms over his bare chest. “Stop being nosy.”

  Jax deliberately glanced around the open foyer that offered a view of the living room and into the kitchen. The house was small but comfortable. Like his parents’ home.

  “I’m a detective,” he reminded his brother. “It’s my job.”

  Ash didn’t look impressed. “What’s happening in my bedroom is not your job.”

  Jax’s lips twitched. “Meaning I didn’t interrupt anything.”

  “I assume you didn’t wake me up just to be a pain in the ass?”

  Jax’s brief amusement faded. “There’s another body.”

  Ash’s jaw clenched, but it was obvious he’d been expecting the news. “You think it was the Butcher?” he demanded.

  “Her throat was slit.”

  “And the mark?”

  “Yep.”

  “Damn.” Ash lowered his voice, as if afraid they might be overheard. “Did she look like Remi?”

  “Long dark hair, slender, pretty.”

  Ash held his gaze. “Was it natural?”

  Jax hesitated. He wasn’t worried about sharing information about the case. He was already risking his job by involving his brother. But he was reluctant to admit just how much the woman had looked like Remi.

  “I’ll have to wait for the medical examiner’s report, but I suspect she’d recently had some work done,” he said.

  Ash grimaced, but he didn’t press for more details. “Was she found in the same park?”

  “No. It was an empty lot.”

  “Another change from his usual pattern.”

  Jax shrugged. “There’s more.”

  “What?”

  “The killer intended to burn her body.”

  “‘Intended’?”

  Jax shuddered. The scent of charred flesh had smacked him in the face the second he’d arrived at the crime scene. There was nothing quite so sickening. Thankfully, it’d been limited to her feet and legs.

  “She was drenched in gasoline and lit on fire. It was sheer chance that a patrol car was driving past and the officer had the good sense to put out the flames before the woman was burned completely.”

  Ash reached out to give his brother’s shoulder a squeeze. He was one of the few people who understood the stress of working a serial killer case. It was one thing to deal with a drive-by shooting. Or a pissed-off boyfriend. Someone died, and you investigated until you could put the guilty party in jail.

  With a serial killer, the clock was always ticking. Either you found them or they murdered again. And again. And again.

  It was like having a noose around your neck that was constantly tightening.

  “I don’t suppose he happened to notice anyone in the area?” Ash asked.

  “No.” Jax had interviewed the cop. He’d been so rattled, he’d barely been able to give an account of what had happened. “He was too busy trying to put out the fire and call for an ambulance. It wasn’t until I arrived that I had a sweep of the neighborhood made. So far, no one admits to seeing anything.”

  “Of course not.” Ash muttered a low string of curses. “This destroys my theory.”

  “What theory?”

  In brisk, concise words, Ash shared the events of the past twenty-four hours.

  “You’ve been busy,” Jax said in dry tones.

  Ash shrugged. “I knew you wouldn’t have time to investigate everything.”

  Jax suspected Ash was more worried about upsetting his potential mother-in-law.

  He needn’t have worried. Jax was happy to allow Ash to deal with Liza Harding-Walsh. Unless they had more than the dubious testimony of a drug dealer, he wasn’t going to try to get a search warrant for the Mustang. A judge would laugh him out of his office.

  “What was your theory?” he asked instead.

  “I thought the Butcher was deliberately attempting to terrify Remi,” Ash said, glancing toward an opening that led to a hallway. Jax assumed it led to the bedroom where Remi was still sleeping. “First by ensuring his victims look exactly like her and then by using her father’s prized Mustang to make a flashy escape from the park.”

  Jax gave a slow nod. It made sense. He’d assumed the cosmetic operations were to satisfy the killer’s need for a specific look in his prey, but it was quite possible it was meant to send a message. The bastard was clever enough to know that the victim’s images would be spread all over the media. And that Remi would realize he was creating clones of her.

  “It’s a good theory,” he admitted.

  Ash made a sound of disgust, running his fingers through his mussed hair. “Not if the killer tried to burn the body tonight,” he pointed out. “What would be the point of having a victim who looks like Remi if you’re going to destroy the body?”

  Jax grimaced. Maybe the killer panicked and feared he could be connected to the victim. Or perhaps he was simply overcome by an urge to watch the body burn. Or it could be a thousand other possibilities.

  “Trying to peer into the mind of a serial killer is always a waste of time,
” he reminded his brother.

  Ash gave a firm shake of his head. “There should be a pattern.”

  “Yes, but the pattern only has to make sense to the killer, not to us.”

  Ash flattened his lips, frustration smoldering around him like an invisible cloak. Jax sympathized. This case was giving him an ulcer. He could only imagine what it was doing to his brother.

  “Do you know anything about the victim?” Ash demanded.

  “Not yet.” Jax lifted his hand to rub the back of his aching neck. The coffee was wearing off and the weariness was creeping into his bones. “I’m headed to the medical examiner’s office to light a fire under Feldman’s ass. Hopefully, I can get the Jane Doe moved to the top of his list.”

  There was the sound of approaching footsteps, and the brothers turned toward the hallway to watch as Remi strolled into the room. Buddy yelped in pleasure, racing to dance around her feet and tug on the hem of her knee-length robe.

  Jax smiled. When Ash had first started dating the daughter of his partner, he’d seen nothing but trouble ahead. Not only because Gage was hyperprotective of Remi, but she had been raised in a way that was utterly foreign to the Marcel clan. They didn’t do private schools, or formal debutante parties, or summers in Europe.

  They were more backyard BBQs and Friday-night football games.

  It’d only taken a few months, however, for Jax to realize Remi was much more like her father than her snooty mother. Plus, there was no mistaking just how devoted Ash was to the young woman. Jax had gone from skeptical to fiercely hopeful the two would make a match of it.

  And even after the two of them had ended the engagement, Jax remained hopeful they would get back together. Whatever their problems, they’d loved each other with an intensity that didn’t just die.

  “Ash?” She moved to stand beside her onetime fiancé before turning toward him. “Hey, Jax.”

  “Morning, Remi.” Jax watched as Ash wrapped an arm around her shoulders. It wasn’t possessive. Just the instincts of a man who craved the closeness of a certain woman. “Sorry. Did we wake you?”

  She shook her head. “No, I usually get up early.”

  Jax leaned forward, planting a quick kiss on her sleep-flushed cheek. “It’s good to see you, Princess,” he said, using the affectionate nickname he’d given her years before.

  She snorted, but something in her expression eased at his teasing. Had she been afraid things had changed between them?

  “Same old Jax,” she murmured, her smile filled with a fondness that warmed Jax’s heart.

  “Hmm.” He tilted his head to the side. “Is that an insult?”

  “You know it isn’t,” she murmured.

  He held her gaze. “You’ve been missed.”

  Her eyes darkened with something that might have been regret before she was squaring her shoulders and visibly bracing herself for bad news. “I don’t suppose I have to ask why you would be here at such an early hour,” she said. “There’s been another murder.”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ash tightened his arm around Remi’s shoulders as she swayed in horror.

  He’d wanted to signal to Jax to keep his mouth shut. Remi was stressed enough. The last thing she needed was another death weighing on her mind.

  But there’d been no point. Remi wasn’t stupid. She would know that Jax wouldn’t show up before dawn unless he had news about the Butcher. And besides, it would soon be plastered all over the TV.

  “Do you want to sit down?” he asked in a low voice, his gaze skimming over her face that had paled despite her attempt to try to prepare herself for Jax’s words.

  “No, I’m okay.” She stiffened her spine, her gaze focused on Jax. “Are you sure it was the Butcher?”

  “I’m waiting on the report from the medical examiner,” Jax hedged, his expression revealing he wasn’t going to go into any gory details of the crime.

  “But you suspect it’s another victim?” Remi pressed.

  “Yeah.”

  She pressed a hand to the center of her chest, as if to contain the pain in her heart. “We have to stop this,” she rasped.

  Ash brushed a kiss over the top of her head, but before he could speak, Jax was answering her plea.

  “That’s actually why I’m here.”

  Ash lifted his head to study his brother’s grim face. He’d assumed he’d just wanted to share the news about the most recent murder. “What do you need?”

  “I thought you might join me for brunch.”

  For a second, Ash was certain he’s misheard his brother. “Brunch?”

  “The mayor’s office is hosting a media day to salute the brave men and women in blue,” Jax said.

  Ash remained confused. Jax had never been one to enjoy the political side of his job. In fact, if an event involved a suit and a tie, he did everything in his power to avoid it.

  “And?”

  “And I called a friend on the way over and she—”

  “She?” Ash interrupted with a lift of his brows.

  Jax narrowed his gaze. “Can I finish?”

  Ash sent him an innocent smile. “I’m not stopping you.”

  “He hasn’t changed either,” Remi said in dry tones.

  “No shit,” Jax muttered, although Ash didn’t miss the hint of pleasure in Jax’s eyes. Once the brothers had been practically inseparable. Not only because they both worked in the same office but because they shared the same interests. Ash knew that his self-imposed exile had been tough on Jax. “She informed me that Robert Hutton sent his RSVP.”

  Ash was jerked out of his rueful contemplations. Hutton. Just the man he wanted to see. “Do you have an invitation?”

  Jax shrugged. “No, but that’s not going to stop me from showing up.”

  “What time?”

  “I’ll pick you up at nine.”

  “I’ll be ready,” Ash assured him.

  Jax glanced toward Remi. “We need to have dinner and catch up.”

  “You can come over tonight.” Remi smiled with anticipation. “I’ll make spaghetti.”

  “Oh.” Jax cleared his throat. “You know . . .” A deer-in-the-headlights expression spread across his face. No doubt he was recalling the night Remi made them a pot of chicken and dumplings and it turned into one soggy lump of dough. Or maybe the meat loaf that had something that tasted suspiciously like coffee grounds in it. “I’ll have to take a rain check. I’ll be eating something at my desk for the foreseeable future.”

  Remi wasn’t fooled for a second. “My cooking isn’t that bad,” she groused.

  Jax sent Ash a taunting smile. “I’ll let you field that one.” He reached out to tug a lock of Remi’s hair. “See ya later, Princess.”

  With a wave, Jax turned and left the house. He was swift to close the door, but a brutal blast of cold air still managed to swirl inside. Ash hurriedly steered Remi away from the entryway and into the warmth of the kitchen.

  Almost as if she was operating on autopilot, Remi immediately moved to switch on the coffee maker.

  “Are you going to confront Bobby about where he was the night Tiffany Holloway was killed?” she demanded.

  Ash hesitated. He didn’t want Remi anywhere near Hutton. But he wasn’t sure if it was because he suspected the slimy bastard was hiding something or because she used to date the man. “That’s the plan.”

  Remi opened the cabinet to pull out a couple of worn mugs. “Do you want me to go with you?”

  Ash studied her profile in surprise. She sounded like she had no interest in joining them.

  “I was bracing myself for your insistence on being included,” he admitted.

  She poured the coffee, spooning in sugar before moving to hand him his mug.

  Ash felt a small flare of warmth. Ridiculous, but he loved the fact that she could make his coffee without having to think about how he liked it. It assured him that their former intimacy wasn’t entirely destroyed.

  �
��Actually, I think I’ll visit my mother,” she said, catching him off guard.

  Ash set aside his mug, frowning at his companion. “If you wait—”

  “No,” Remi interrupted sharply. “She won’t talk if you’re around.”

  Well, that was true enough. Liza Harding-Walsh would have her tongue cut out before she uttered more than icy, barely polite chatter in his presence. Ash assumed the older woman was terrified that if she tried to be nice, Ash might assume he was welcome in their pedigreed family.

  A horrifying thought.

  “I don’t like you going there alone,” he growled.

  She looked predictably confused. “It’s my home.”

  “That’s what scares me,” he muttered.

  Remi shook her head, clearly refusing to allow his heebie-jeebies to affect her. “The Butcher would have had hundreds of occasions to attack me at the house if he wanted.”

  Ash couldn’t argue. He didn’t even know what was bothering him. He had no proof the car that’d tried to run down Roo belonged to Gage. Or that the killer had any connection to Remi’s family estate.

  Besides, as Remi had just pointed out, she’d been in and out of the house on a weekly basis. If the killer had wanted to hurt her, he’d had plenty of opportunity.

  Still, he found he couldn’t completely shake his unease.

  “The one thing we know is that he’s unpredictable,” he muttered.

  She made a sound of impatience. “I can’t stay locked in this house.”

  “Why not?”

  She glared at him. “Be serious.”

  “Okay.” He heaved a resigned sigh. “But I want you to call me before you go and as soon as you leave.”

  Her lips flattened, and it was obvious she wanted to tell him to back off. But, perhaps recalling that he was only trying to protect her, she placed her mug in the sink and turned to head out of the kitchen.

  “I’m going to change and then go for a run,” she said.

  “Buddy and I will join you,” he called out as she headed for her bedroom.

  “Of course you will,” she called back in sarcastic tones.

  Ash glanced down at Buddy, who was regarding him with a gaze that warned he was treading close to getting thrown in the doghouse.