“I want to—” he spun to face me. “Dammit, I want to take away your pain, not add to it.”
“To do that, I have to face it.” I angled my chin. “I’m ready.”
With a curse, he looked away, then nodded.
He disappeared back inside, and I curled my legs up, pressing my knees to my chest and resting my chin on them. I stared blindly at the view until he returned, with the file in one hand and a tablet tucked under his arm. He also held two glasses and a bottle of bourbon in the other hand. Knowing Bastian, it had cost a small fortune.
“I’d normally say it’s wrong to mix bourbon with painkillers,” he said.
“It’s never a wrong time for anything in Vegas.” I tilted my head. “Pour me some.”
He sat and poured me a glass. I sipped it, watching him pour his own glass. As the liquid hit my tastebuds, I almost moaned out loud. It was so good.
Bastian knocked back his glass in one gulp.
He handed me the file.
Time to face the worst.
I sucked in a breath and opened the file. This time, I was ready when I saw the police reports. I made myself read every line of them. Every word. I made myself study the photos. Every angle.
So many dead.
He’d started ten years ago. I gnawed on my bottom lip. It was about the time I’d struck out on my own. He’d targeted happy couples, happy families, anyone who seemed happy.
Emotions inside me raged and bucked.Ed, how the hell could you do this?A man who’d vowed to protect his country killed innocent people.
I let the feeling fill me. I let those horrible, cutting feelings flow through me.
I stayed focused on the facts. I took the tablet, then started looking up news articles on the Red Ribbon Killer.
He’d tied a red ribbon on the wrists of his victims. Like they were a damn gift.
I pressed a hand to my mouth, a memory sparking. “He kept a roll of red fucking ribbon in his kitchen.” I swallowed. “He kept it in his empty fruit bowl with other junk I never thought twice about.”
Bastian stayed silent.
“It was like he hated their love, hated their happiness,” I murmured.
“He never talked about his childhood, but I got the impression it wasn’t good.” Bastian turned toward me, his face serious. “Maybe he was trying to destroy what he never had. What he’d been denied.”
“That’s fucked up.” I still couldn’t process it. Couldn’t reconcile the man I’d known with this. A strand of hair blew into my face and I brushed it back. “Ed was the agent assigned to my father. My father was working on a top-secret CIA project, something to do with a chemical weapon, and Ed was his contact.” I paused. “We’d been locked away in a cabin in Minnesota while my father worked in his lab in the garage. I thought it was wonderful. I loved running wild in the woods and being homeschooled by my parents.”
Until a monster had arrived.
Until I’d been forced to hear my parents slaughtered.
“He told me that he suspected an agent of a foreign nation killed your parents,” Bastian said.
“That was the theory.” I pulled in a shaky breath. “Ed came and pulled me out of that blood-soaked cabin. I remembered he’d been mad. Ordering agents and police to find the person responsible. They never caught the person.” My mouth went dry. “He let me see their bodies.”
“Your parents?”
I nodded. “I sat beside them, my fingers pressed to their necks, trying to find a pulse. But there was nothing, no life.” My hand curled into a fist. “Do you think Ed had something to do with my parents’ murder?”
Bastian’s mouth flattened into a tight line. “I don’t think so. He spoke highly of your father, and when I first met you, he was genuinely upset your parents were murdered. He said he didn’t start killing until ten years ago.”
“He…confessed?”
