Shane frowned. “Shit. That’s too much of a coincidence, Heath. Think about it.”
“I am.” He was trying to, anyway. His mind was still muddled. “This guy is a serial killer, and he’s trained by Madison.”
“How did you get involved in the case?” Shane asked slowly, his lips flattening out.
Heath rubbed his gritty eyes. “We were hired by one of the families.”
Shane’s eyes darkened. “Call them. Ask how they got your name or found you on the dark web.”
Man, if the killer had engineered Heath’s involvement in his crazy spree, the guy was beyond brilliant and psychotic. If he worked with Dr. Madison, he was playing a very twisted game. “I’ll call the family.” Heath fought the anger burning inside him. He had to think and get into this guy’s head. Finally there was at least a slim lead. “Forgetting that Anya is the key for a moment, is there any reason one of Dr. Madison’s soldiers would have an obsession with redheads to the point of carving the word ‘Mine’ into their chests?”
Shane paled to the color of paste.
Heath sat up straighter, his instincts humming. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Shane gave a curt nod. “Call me back when you’re alone.” He disconnected the call.
CHAPTER
37
Anya took a bite of her already cut up steak and gingerly tested the shackles around her ankles. A quick glance confirmed they were ordinary-looking handcuffs, which were also attached to big rings in the floor. Should she address the handcuffs? He seemed to be playing out some sort of fantasy with the dinner, and a reminder of reality might just piss him off.
Daniel sat across from her and poured more red wine into his glass. He wore dark slacks and a blue silk shirt, looking like he was out on a first date. His hair was thick and combed, and he’d shaven his face recently. If she’d just met him, she’d think he was extremely good-looking. She squinted. They had met.
He smiled. “You’re remembering.”
“Yes.” But he was only vaguely familiar. “Why don’t you refresh my memory?”
He sighed. “You were seventeen, and you thought I was maybe nineteen. We met at Sharon’s Hometown Diner in Lake Wanatanka.”
She blinked. Memories, hazy, fuzzed through her head. “You bought me an ice cream.” He’d been a cute boy sitting alone near the beach, and he’d approached her.
“Yeah,” he said softly. “Even with that red hair, you were so pure. So sweet.”
She struggled to capture more of the memory. “It was my last day at camp.”
He nodded. “I asked you out the next night, and you said you had to go back home to school. You left me.” His lips turned down.
He’d been so handsome, but the moment had been fleeting. Now, as it was, he looked like a monster. One she needed to get to trust her. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“Maybe. I was on a job and couldn’t follow you.” He sighed. “But I eventually did find you, and I’ve kept watch.”
She took a sip. They needed some sort of connection. She’d have to go slow with the questions and maybe give him some admiration. “The wine is good. What is it?”
“It’s a local blend,” he said, smiling. “I like to buy local when I travel.”
She tried to choke down some steak. It looked like it was cooked perfectly, but it tasted like exposed cardboard. Fear made everything bitter. “What kind of job were you on when we met?”
“I’m a soldier and was even then.”
“With the U.S. military?” she asked, her mind rioting. “No. With a private group.” He munched on his steak, humming with pleasure.
She glanced toward the stormy evening outside and kept her gaze from the bed. All of the victims had been raped, but maybe the courting part of his ritual with her would last more than a day. She could only hope. “I’ve always admired soldiers.”
“We do work hard,” he confirmed. “I’m planning on taking command of the group I work for. It lacks military leadership right now.”
What was his trigger? He’d obsessed about her for years but hadn’t made a move. Something had forced him to start killing and sending her pictures. “Ambition is good.” She tried to take a bite of the fresh salad. “You must have a lot of freedom with your hours to be able to, ah, keep an eye on me.”
