It was only then that she realized he’d taken off her tank top. Thankfully, her shorts were still on, but from the waist-up she was left with only her bra.
Riley flinched from the contact, wishing like mad that she could escape his vile touch. “Why are you doing this?”
“It was fate, you know.” He stood erect once more. “That day you were brought to me. I’d already killed those other girls, of course. Those women who looked like my whore of a mother.”
Okay, so the who and why have been answered. But she still had a long way to go.
“Why did you leave that first note for me?”
“I heard you once, outside the police station in New York. You were talking to your partner. The one who was tragically gunned down the day we first met.”
Jesus. She’d walked right past the guy?
“You were fighting for me.” He reached out again, this time tracing her hairline near her exposed temple. “You were telling him all about me. About how I’d killed those first two. Not me, specifically, of course. But you knew. Your brilliant detective mind figured out that their killer was the same person. Except he wasn’t listening.”
No one had listened back then. And now, here they were.
“So I left the note for you, hoping they’d bring you back onto the case. They didn’t. Not with her or the woman who came after. But I still thought of you. Your pretty face.” His fingertip trailed down her cheek. “Your long, dark hair.” He played with her disheveled braid. “It was like we were destined to cross paths, you and me.”
“I was trying to catch your ass so I could throw you in jail,” Riley gritted out. “It’s not destiny. It’s justice.”
Rather than become angry from her words, Dr. Gregory Hayes smiled. “Yes, well...we’ll have to agree to disagree.” He turned away, stepping into the bathroom to get something she couldn’t see.
Ignoring the fear ramping up inside her, Riley raced to get as much information as she could. On the off chance she made it out of this, she wanted to be able to pass along every possible piece to the sick fuck’s puzzle.
This guy, this monster, had hurt the man she loved.
Not for the purpose of prosecution. She’d meant what she’d said to Eric at the beach house.
If he comes anywhere near you, I won’t arrest him. I’ll fucking kill him.
“You never answered my question.” She needed to keep him talking. “Why did you leave the note in the third victim’s mouth?”
“Because you left me.” He turned back around, pouting like a disappointed child.
There was something in his hand, but his arms were down by his side, making it impossible for her to see what it was.
You know what it is.
“I had no choice.” Riley worked to keep her breathing steady. “They pulled me from the case.”
“I know.” He offered her a sad smile. “I kept up with the news. First homicide took over, and then the FBI. Agent Crenshaw, I believe was his name.”
Freaking Crenshaw. If he’d just listened to her, those other women’s lives would’ve been spared, and Eric would never have been hurt.
And I wouldn’t be lying here, cuffed to his bed, trying to figure out how the hell I’m going to get out of this mess.
The thought brought to light the painful aching in her shoulders and back. The stretched muscles burned, and the metal bracelets were digging into the skin on her wrists.
But she’d survived worse.
“Crenshaw’s dead,” Riley shared the random fact simply to continue the conversation.
The eerie grin on Hayes’ face caused a rush of shivers through her system.
“Succinylcholine is a magical drug.”
“What?” She looked at him like he was nuts because, well...he was.
