How long had he been watching us?
And what had he seen?
On one monitor, Varesh was using the kitchen bench as a folding station and sorting through a basket of washing. On another Ellie smacked Willow in the face with a cushion and ran behind the couch, laughing as her sister chased her.
All perfectly normal scenes to witness—ifyou livedthere.
“It’s a security measure,” Dustin said, his voice an irritating whine. “One-hundred percent legal, I’ll have you know.”
“Is it, though?” Laura asked, her expression murderous. “Because watching little girls is—”
“Fucking perverted.” Tim strode over to the desk and yanked one cord out at a time, disconnecting the live streams in an instant.
As each image disappeared, the knots in my stomach loosened.
Dustin screeched and tried scrambling out from under Owen’s control, but Owen reacted fast and pushed down harder.
“Move again,” he said. “Try me. It’s taking everything in me not to beat theshitout of you.”
“I’ll sue,” Kerger yelled, continuing to struggle. “This is abhorrent behaviour!”
“You’re watching my girls while they’re behind closed doors.” Owen dug his thumbs into the top of Dustin’s shoulders hard enough to make him squeal. “If you think that’s acceptable, it makes me wonder what else you’re hiding.”
“Nothing,” he said too fast.
“This creep’s never watching us again.” Laura dragged every monitor to the floor and put her boots to good use, stomping the screens into oblivion.
No one could stop her. No one could punish her.
Dustin switched to begging, arms extended, eyes wide. “Please stop.Please. That’s expensive equipment. I’ve done nothing wrong.”
On board with the idea, I handed her the maul. “You okay with keeping him there for now?” I asked Owen.
He shoved Dustin down again when he tried to rise. “For as long as I need to—but I can’t predict what I’ll do to him when this is over.”
“Understandable.”
The sound of a woman letting out all her frustration filled the room. Smashing and kicking. Cursing. Dustin was lucky she’d taken it out on inanimate objects instead of focusing her anger where it truly belonged.
As thunder boomed above us and rain hammered the windows, I scanned the too-neat lounge room.
No key hooks beside the door. None on the kitchen wall, either.
With another check on Owen to make sure he had Dustin under control, I strode toward the only bedroom.
“Stay out of there! You donothave my permission to enter.”
"We didn’t have permission to enter your apartment either, but here we are, shitbag." Ignoring Kerger’s protests, I stepped into a room exactly like the rest of his house. No warmth or heart. No life. I hadn't seen a single framed photo of a family member or friend. Just white walls and a plain grey cover on a queen-size bed.
Scratch that. When I turned and faced the opposite wall, all the breath left me.
A collection of A4 printouts had been taped in rows above a chest of drawers—newspaper articles featuring black and white photos of young, long-haired women.I moved closer, my pulse thudding as I examined the pages. They’d all gone missing under mysterious circumstances, cold cases from around the world still waiting to be solved.
Dustin had to be in his late thirties at most. The dates were too far back and too widespread for him to be responsible—but I doubted he had plans to solve the cases and become a hero.
These printouts were inspiration. Motivation.
One woman even looked like an older version of Sadie, and the thought of her photo up there among all the others spurred me into action.
