Page 37 of Ricochet

“Yes, one witness in the motel described a black mask with red stitching across the lips.”

“Red stitching, Will?”

“That’s right Martha. Police Chief Cox is reluctant to call this man a hero, and says he may be armed and dangerous. Possibly associated with a terrorist group, known as Achilleus X, who is being sought by both federal and state authorities.”

“I’d hardly call this an act of terrorism. He saved three girls who’d been reported missing from their suburban homes weeks ago.”

“The labelling is due to the nature of the murders, which is, uh, quite similar to a recent murder that took place off of Grand River downtown. Police, of course, declined comment on the details of the murder at this time, but did say that very sadistic methods were employed, including the torture of these men and the one female, while the girls were in the other room.”

“In the case of the murder that took place downtown, wasn’t that following the infiltration of a drug house?”

“Yes, that’s correct. The murderer apparently stormed the drug house, taking out a number of the drug dealers inside, before kidnapping the head dealer, Marquise Carter.”

“Hmmm. It seems this masked vigilante is something of a mystery. All right, thank you, Will.

“Yep, Will Thomas, reporting live from Cass Corridor in Detroit.”

The small screen disappeared and the camera zoomed in on Martha. “We’re receiving a flood of comments about this case, which is still under investigation at this time.”

Cox entwined his fingers, sinking into the leather chair across from Culling in the mayor’s home office. “Asshole brings new meaning to getting fucked. Ole Richie was found with his brother’s severed dick in his mouth and tied to a fucking machine, with a gun up his ass. Now Julius seems to have gone missing. His brother’s gonna go balls out to find him, I’m sure.” He scratched his chin. “Discovered another number on Jonathan. We got one and zero so far. Not sure yet what it means.”

“I don’t give a fuck about some masked crusader saving the world. I want you. To find. My. Wife.” Culling’s round, black eyes could’ve spun a hole right through Cox’s head, the way they drilled into him.

“We might have a serial killer on our hands here. Could be related to Achilleus X. These men … they’re part of the Crew, ya know.”

“That’s … wonderful. Great. I’m glad you’ve wasted ten fucking minutes of my life, talking to me about two worthless bastards in the world.” The crack of Culling’s fist slamming into his desktop had Cox’s muscles flinching. “Find my wife! Find my fucking wife, you fat piece of shit! Do you understand me? Find my fucking wife!” Nostrils flared, he adjusted his collar, straightened his tie, and smoothed his hair. “Not a single fucking camera in that shithole hospital caught one goddamn glimpse of this cocksucker. Not one!” Rubbing his temples, he closed his eyes and, in a moment of awkwardness, took deep, yoga-style breaths. “She has information. Information that, if found, could destroy our plans. Could destroy us.”

“Yeah. Yes, sir.”

“Whoever has her … I don’t want you to kill them.” Elbow propped on the desk, Culling’s hand balled into a tight fist. “I want them brought back to me. Alive. Is that clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Good. As for these three, good riddance.” Culling waved in dismissal toward the TV. “They were erratic. Sloppy. It was only a matter of time before somebody took them down, and I’m just glad it wasn’t some nosy fucking FBI agent with a hard-on for some deeper investigation.”

“The FBI are going to be involved, sir.” Clearing his throat, Cox straightened in his seat, preparing for another round of fire from the mayor. He’d long threatened that if the FBI got involved, he’d send Cox fishing for air at the bottom of the river. “There seems to be a link between this guy and Achilleus X.”

“I personally appointed you to keep the FBI off my ass, Cox. Do your fucking job.”

Not easy when the murderer seemed to make a goddamn spectacle out of every kill. The butcher clearly had it in for the Crew, but finding each of the bastards in the city before they got snuffed was damn near impossible. “Yes, sir.”

“In the meantime, not a word about Aubree’s disappearance.” Arm still propped, he flexed his fingers. “As far as the media’s concerned, she took some time to get away. A vacation. I don’t want to draw attention to this, do you understand?”

A fucking vacation. As if the asshole ever let the poor bitch out of his sight. “Yes.”

“Get the fuck out of my office. And don’t come back until you have something good to report.”

CHAPTER 17

Nick

I fell back onto my bed, cupping my face in my hands. Shit got to me tonight. It was one thing to see those kids propped in ads on the internet, done in a way that’d make some sick fucking pig think they wanted it. It was another to see it in person, to hear their screams. A barbed wrecking ball crashing into my head, ripping through every other thought.

That dark shit ruined a bastard.

I’d never get Danielle’s scream out of my head. It would continue to haunt me—a reminder that there were kids out there, scared, feeling hopeless and no one would ever hear their screams.

I heard them. And I hoped, for her sake, she felt free tonight.