He stopped at the streetlight. He looked down and saw the blood staining his shirt. Veronica had died easily. No long, pain-filled death. Just a quick kill, with minimal pain. He figured she’d deserved that.
Poor Veronica. All her life she’d never been worth much.
But she’d sure been one fine piece of ass.
He fished out his phone, dialed the number, and when old Fuck ’em Frank answered with his trembling voice, he told him, “It’s time.”
CHAPTER Ten
Spotlights shone down on the body. Max stood behind the yellow police tape, but he could see the woman, see the red that bloomed from her chest. The blood that mixed with the trash and the mud beneath her.
“Let him through!” Dante’s order broke the air, and suddenly, Max was pulled under the tape and led closer to the scene.
“You know what’s happening,” Dante said.
No, he didn’t have a clue. He just knew dead bodies were turning up and that wasn’t good.
“The lead kidnapper’s covering his tracks. Taking out his team and eliminating anyone who can ID him.”
“What about Quinlan?”
A muscle worked in Dante’s jaw. “At this point…” Dante ran a hand over the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, Ridgeway, but the odds of his survival are slim.”
Max took that hit, and his hands fisted.
“We were so damn close to her.” He could still see her face. Wide eyes, staring at him with recognition before she’d run into the night. “If she’d just talked to us…”
“Then she might not have wound up with her heart nearly carved out.” Brutal.
The agent wasn’t pulling any punches.
“You’re seeing this!”
Max turned at the voice. Samantha’s voice. Angry, fierce, and splitting with emotion.
She was at the south side entrance to the alley. Her hand was clamped around another woman’s arm—the redheaded bartender who’d alerted the blonde and who’d tripped Samantha when they gave chase.
Those few moments… if they’d just had…
“Uh, Sam?” Dante rushed toward her, even as he motioned for Max to stay back. “Sam, what are you—”
She ducked under the police tape and hauled the woman after her.
The bartender screamed, “No, f**k, no, I don’t want to—”
“I don’t give a damn what you want.” Samantha jerked to a halt and glared at her. “Your friend is dead, and you are going to see her.”
The woman shook her head and tried to back away.
Samantha didn’t let her budge.
“Sam…” Dante closed in on her. “Crime scene, remember? You can’t just—”
“I’m out of time.” And just like that, the heat was gone from her voice. She sounded flat. Sad.
Max stepped toward her. Instantly a cop was there, putting a hand against his chest and stopping him. Making sure he didn’t contaminate the scene. Right. Like he probably hadn’t screwed the scene when he’d trampled through the alley the first time.
“I’m out of time,” Samantha said, “and so is Quinlan Malone.”
The bartender wasn’t looking at the body on the ground. “I-I don’t know any—”
“My brother,” Max snapped. “His name’s Quinlan Malone, and he’s missing.”
Samantha glanced his way. Their eyes held for a beat of time. Then she dropped her hold and stepped to the side. The redhead got a full view of the dead woman. “No!” The bartender whirled away, shaking.
Samantha stared at the woman’s back. “You were friends, Gina.”
Gina gave a fast nod.
“You warned her to get out of the bar, but you should have listened to me. I told you I could help her.”
Gina’s shoulders shook as she cried—loud, gulping sobs.
“I need to find the man who did this,” Samantha said.
Gina glanced back at her and did not let her gaze drop to the body again.
“I need to find him because if I don’t…” Samantha shook her head. “More people are going to die.”
“Cover the body,” Dante ordered the tech who’d just finished photographing the scene. “Now.”
Gina’s lips trembled. “I-I don’t… know any-anything—”
“You knew her.” A jerk of Samantha’s thumb over her shoulder toward the body. “And now we need to know her. We need to know everything about her.”
A white cloth was pulled over the body.
The redhead’s eyes dropped, and she stared at the cloth.
“He left her with the garbage,” Samantha said. “Is that what she deserved?”
“N-no…”
“Then help me find the bastard who killed her.”
A tear trickled down Gina’s cheek, and she nodded.
“Good, good.” Samantha caught Gina’s shoulder. “Let’s start with her name. What was her name, Gina?”
“V-Veronica. Veronica J-James.”
“And where did she live?” Samantha asked as she guided her away from the crime scene.
“Seventeen-oh-nine Belmont…”
“Near Georgetown?”
“Y-yeah.”
They disappeared, turning right at the edge of the alley.
“Get the body out of here,” Dante ordered the team around him. “And I want a unit to head with me to Belmont.” He fired a glance at Max. “You in for this, Ridgeway?”
Try to keep me out.
Sam went with the uniforms to 1709 Belmont. The officers immediately went to work searching the one-bedroom apartment. Max came with them, but Luke ordered him to remain outside until they’d secured the scene.
Ignoring the team around her, Sam sat at Veronica’s keyboard, tapping quickly. The password was eliminated in five seconds. Veronica’s favorite band. Luckily, Veronica had left a stack of their CDs near her desk.
She scrolled through the files. Nothing. Nothing. E-mails flew past her, names, dates. She checked as fast as she could, looking for something that would tie Veronica to the kidnappings.
“Anything?” Kim asked from behind her.
Sam shook her head and went deeper into Veronica’s search history on the computer. Wait… driving directions.
She pulled up the archived file. Directions to 2917 Kyler Boulevard in Fairfax, Virginia. Directions that Veronica had looked up the day before the first victim went missing. The day before.
Fairfax was right in the middle of the kill zone. They’d mapped out a geographic zone for the kidnapper, and that area of Fairfax was within driving distance to every disappearance. She glanced back at Kim, who already had her cell out.