There are four of us in this room who know why we can’t hand over Bill. Adam made a deal with him. If we kill Bill, what happens to our brother? Who protects him? He’s been on the run for four years. I won’t have his blood on my hands. Maybe this was Bill’s plan all along. To get wrapped up with Adam so we couldn’t take him down. He knows we’re loyal to each other and would do whatever we need to do for one another.
“You’re close with him.” Tyson looks at Sin. “Can you get in touch with Bill? See what you can find out without making it look like you’re digging for information?”
“He’s practically Haidyn’s father-in-law,” Sin states, pointing at Haidyn. “Have him do it.”
Sin doesn’t want to get involved. He thinks I’ve betrayed him, and now that there’s a possibility Bill is no good, he doesn’t want him around Elli or his unborn children. I hate that he can even think I’d put his family in danger.
“We haven’t had any contact with him since he was at Carnage last.” Haidyn shrugs.
Lie.But for good reason. None of them need to know about our midnight flight in his private jet after Adam’s pretend funeral.
“But it doesn’t add up,” I say. “Dollhouse is about human trafficking and sex slavery. Torture and rape make sense due to the nature of that god-awful place, but why kill them when they could be useful to their business? Why waste your product?” It’s Business 101. You don’t smoke your stash, because then you don’t have any product to sell. Why kill the women they could make money off of?”
Tyson rubs his chin, and the detective just scratches the back of his neck. No one has an answer for that.
“What about the bodies?” Ryat asks, looking at the detective. “Sevenbodies in seven days? Seems like a game to me. How did you know where they were?”
“We got calls.”
“From whom? Have you vetted them?” Ryat goes on.
“Yeah.” He crouches down and digs into his backpack again. Pulling out a notebook, he lays it on the coffee table and licks the tips of his fingers before riffling through the pages until he finds what he wants. “All were found in places they died except for one. Random calls from campers, hikers, passersby.”
“How do you know they were found where they were killed?” I ask.
“The scene…and blood.” Haynes looks at me. “They were tortured where they were found, except for this one.” He looks through the pictures on the table and then pushes one out of the pile. It’s of a woman lying naked in the middle of a cemetery. She lies across a grave, face down, hands secured behind her back with barbed wire, her ankles bound as well. It’s wrapped around her neck and all around her face. Several fingers are missing and she’s covered in bruises and old scars, and what looks like burn marks cover her thighs.
I’ve seen this grave before.
“What’s up with the burn marks?” Ryat asks. “Think they tortured her for information? Maybe it wasn’t about selling them; maybe they knew something.”
“She was burned in three places and had several fingers removed. All while still alive.” The detective looks up at him. “As far as we can tell, they were removing tattoos…birthmarks. Anything that would stand out. Her parents had pictures of her all over the news when they reported her missing three months ago. If, for whatever reason, she had to be moved and a civilian spotted her, they wouldn’t want her to have any distinguishing marks.”
“I feel like a woman with missing fingers would cause more of a scene than a birthmark,” Alex observes and shrugs. “But that’s just me.”
Ryat glances away, running a hand down his face.
“What’s…carved into her back?” Sin asks, leaning forward to get a better look.
“You’re next,” the detective answers. “That was also done while she was still alive.” Standing up, he places his hands on his hips. “She was the last one found, but we think she was the first to be killed because she had been dead for quite some time. And she was the only one who appeared to be dumped.”
“Where?” Ryat growls when he doesn’t explain the exact location.
“A cemetery.” He checks his notes. “It was behind a cathedral?—”
Everyone starts talking at once, and Tyson holds up his hands. “Whoa,” he hollers, shushing all of us as he looks at the detective and barks, “You said none are related to the Lords.”
“They aren’t.”
“Then how the fuck do you explain where she was dumped?” Haidynsnaps. “Sounds pretty close to the Lords to me. Not many civilians know the cathedral is there, let alone the abandoned cemetery behind it where so many Lords are buried.”
The detective shakes his head. “None of the women have any family relation to the Lords.”
How the fuck does he know? He’s not a Lord, and it’s not like a Lord will tell you he’s one. Any of these parents could have chosen to keep that bit of information to themselves.
“Doesn’t mean she wasn’t fucking one,” Alex says with a shrug. “They’re all over. Barrington and House of Lords. This is a college town. She could have met one here at Blackout. Been fucking him for weeks and not even known who he truly was.”
“Who reported the body?” Saint demands. It’s the first time he’s spoken since we started.
