No Longer Lost: Secrets Of Stone: Book Nine Read online

  “You should. A good family is too valuable to let go. They seem so few and far between. Oh, my God, though. Can we stay on one subject? We’re worse than Margaux and Claire right now. What were you going to suggest regarding ways for me to defend myself? I think this is serious enough to talk about.”

  “I couldn’t agree more. But you need to really listen to me and not huff off,” I chastised before she even did it.

  “Huff off? I don’t huff off.” She put her hand on her hip in defiance.

  I tilted my head, my unspoken message clear. Are you fucking kidding me?

  “Maaaaaccc!” she burst out. “Come on. Suggestions. Speak them. Now.”

  “All right, all right. Just stop with the bossy stuff.” I adjusted myself again while she flopped back in the stack of pillows. Her blond hair fluffed all over her face. “That shit does funny things to me too.”

  I couldn’t help but roll on top of her, pressing my semi-erect cock into her belly. When I eventually uncovered her face from under the mess of hair, she was grinning like a fool. “You are in hopeless territory, Clown. No doubt about it.”

  “Yes, but do you love me anyway?” I kissed her pert little nose, barely resisting the urge to bite her.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Her blue eyes twinkled with mischief as she looked up at me.

  “God, you’re killing me.” I looked to the heavens for strength before continuing. “But really, while I have you here and you can’t get away, illustrating my point beautifully, you need to really consider letting me hire someone to protect you when I can’t be with you.”

  As predicted, she balked.

  She couldn’t get me off her, but she wanted to argue fiercely. So, I did the only thing I could. I covered her mouth with a passionate kiss, dissolving her ire quickly and swirling it into sensual heat. When I ended the kiss, she opened her eyes and her mouth at the exact same time and launched into a tirade.

  “There is no way in Sam Hill I’m going to have a fucking bodyguard. Can you imagine how ridiculous that would look? Walking into work with some gorilla-sized man following me around? For Christ’s sake, do you even think before you suggest things sometimes? Seriously, Clown, this one might take the cake.”

  My grin started small, but as her rant continued, it spread until I felt like my face would split in two.

  “And what, exactly, is so funny, Dr. Stone?” She tried to imitate Detective Johnson with terrible results. “God, that was awful. You’re so much better at it.”

  “Be honest with yourself, Sassy. I’m so much better at a lot of things.”

  “I would knee you in the balls if you didn’t have me pinned down right now. In fact, that was such a dickhead thing to say, I may still do it when you finally let me up and have forgotten all about it, just to remind you what a dick you really are.” She gave me a quick kiss to ensure I caught the mirth beneath the blustery threat.

  “My second suggestion is, maybe you should take a self-defense class or possibly carry a weapon of some sort. I don’t know your stance on any of that—the weapon thing—or even the laws in this state…what you can or can’t have on your person. But you must do something to protect yourself, damn it.”

  The words couldn’t tumble from me fiercely enough. All I could think about was how much I was going to worry about her. I was already dreading Monday morning, when she had to go to her work and I to mine. The only saving grace of all this? I’d be able to keep a better eye on John at the hospital, at least to a small degree. Hell, it was something. I was grasping at any straw I could. Even though she was adamantly opposed to the bodyguard idea, I was considering talking to Killian about it anyway. I was sure it was grounds for an enormous fight between Taylor and me when she found out, but I had to find some sort of peace of mind.

  Somehow I convinced her to go out to breakfast before we went to the apartment. I knew she couldn’t resist the offer of chocolate chip pancakes. They were her favorite. Maybe it was a dirty move, but I never said I played above the board all the time.

  With full stomachs, we headed toward Mission Valley. The chorizo burrito I’d chosen from the menu churned in my gut with each mile we covered on the way.

  “Why are you driving so slowly? Are you nervous about getting there?” She looked at me over the top of her sunglasses.

  “What are you talking about? The speed limit is seventy. Just not in the mood to deal with more cops. Kind of had my fill lately.” It seemed like a decent reason, even if I just made it up on the spot. Of course, she saw right through it.

  “Uhhhh, okay. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re full of shit.”

  “Well, good thing you know better, then.”

  She was totally right. Killian had told me a little bit of what to expect when we got there, and it was about to be a really long day.

  “Damn it,” she said suddenly while looking out the window.

  “What’s wrong? Did you forget something? Do we need to go back?” A man could hope, right?

  “No. I just realized I never asked Detective Johnson about Sally. It would’ve been better to know what to expect going in, you know?”

  “I hear you. I’m not sure anything can prepare us for this, though.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Well, the only thing I can draw from is the one time I’ve had something stolen. I was doing my residency in Philadelphia. The hospital was in a bad part of the city, and a lot of the residents parked on the surrounding streets because the parking passes for the parking structure were expensive. At that point in your career, you don’t have two nickels to rub together, so any opportunity to save money seemed like a good idea.”

  “Was it a flashy car like the ones you have now?” she asked, always interested in the small details of a story. She should’ve been a detective herself.

  “It was a BMW, but a used, older model, apparently easy to break into.” I laughed but thought back affectionately to the little 3 series. “I came out one night after my rotation, and it was gone. The cops recovered it within a few days, but I didn’t really want it back.” I shrugged. “I felt so violated. It smelled like weed and cheap beer. That’s all I can remember. The seats were all marked up, and I just couldn’t stop imagining all the things they must have been doing in my car in the few short days they had it.”

  “What did you end up doing with it?” she asked, genuinely interested in my story.

  It took me a few moments to remember. “I think I sold it to one of the orderlies for way less than it was worth. I just wanted to get rid of it at that point.”

  I took the exit off the freeway and pulled into her apartment complex before I could come up with any other excuses to delay the inevitable.

  “Well, here we are. Were you able to get in touch with your homeowner’s insurance folks?” I asked, circling the property looking for a parking spot.

  “Mac, be serious. I’m a renter. I have nothing. That chessboard was the most valuable thing I own. Well, that and Sally. I didn’t say anything yesterday while the detective was saying all of that because it’s embarrassing.” She stuffed her phone in her purse as we parked.

  “Why would you be embarrassed?” I asked.

  “Well, let’s see. I’m twenty-five, work like a dog, and I literally have nothing to show for it. You don’t find that cause for embarrassment?”

  I waited in front of the car until she got out and closed her door. I set the alarm with the key fob and stashed it in my pocket.

  “No. I know people twice your age in the same situation. People with salaries probably three times yours. People who don’t have addict mothers sucking them dry. You are an amazing, responsible, level-headed young woman. I can’t think of a single thing you have to be embarrassed about. Well, maybe your singing voice.” I gave her a sideways grin, and she smacked me in the chest with the back of her hand.

  “Ouch.” I rubbed over the spot. “Maybe you don’t need self-defense classes after all.”

&nbs
p; The telltale yellow crime-scene tape was easy to spot from across the apartment complex. As we approached, Taylor twisted her hand tighter against mine.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” As hopeless as the cause likely was, I wanted to give her one last option to back out. “We don’t have to go in there, baby. I can send a cleaning crew instead. They can pack up your things and have them sent to my house.”

  “No. I need to do this. It…it just looks so ominous…with that tape. Like you see in a movie,” she said as she dug through her purse for her keys.

  “I don’t think you’re going to need those.”

  “Why?”

  “Looks like the door is already ajar.”

  “Are you kidding? They left my door open this whole time? I’ll be lucky if whatever crap I do have hasn’t been stolen.”

  As we got closer, I could see the wood around the door frame was splintered. Clearly Busby used a crowbar or some other means to force the door open.

  I pulled the yellow tape down, crumpled it up into a wad, and then tossed it on the patio. I hadn’t even thought to bring trash bags with us for the cleanup. “We’re going to have to run up to the store and get trash bags. We should’ve stopped on the way. I should’ve thought about that.”

  “Well, let’s take a look around first and make a list. That way we make just one trip,” she replied, pushing the front door open.

  “Good idea.”

  I followed her inside.

  But neither one of us were prepared for what we encountered.

  Her once cute and tidy apartment looked like it had been through a 7.0-magnitude earthquake. Things that had previously hung on the wall were on the ground. Furniture was overturned. Even the contents of the kitchen cabinets were strewn about.

  “I can’t imagine the reason for all of this. He must have been in a full psychotic episode when he broke into this apartment,” she muttered, turning in a full circle.

  “Are there security cameras on this property?” I asked, doing the same turn-and-gawk.

  “I think out in the parking lot. Maybe in the common areas. This is unbelievable.” She turned to look at me, shaking her head in disbelief. “What would make him do this?”

  “I can’t imagine.”

  “Why did you ask about the cameras? They won’t show what happened inside here.”

  “I just thought it would be interesting to see his demeanor—you know, his general state—as he approached your apartment. Maybe we could see if he was agitated or spoke to anyone. Or if he was acting strangely.” Then I quickly added, “Well, stranger than normal. And, now that I’m thinking about it, if he were shown on video here, it would blow a hole in the alibi he fed the cops.”

  Taylor started to ask more about the alibi comment, but all train of thought was lost when we rounded the corner and went into the bedroom. This must’ve been what Killian warned me about. Taylor’s bed looked like a human sacrifice had taken place. Her bedding was covered in what looked like blood. So much blood, it soaked through to the mattress. The smell was overwhelming.

  “Oh, my God!” She covered her nose and mouth and turned away, burying her face in my chest. I wrapped my arms around her, shielding her from the horror of the sight and stench.

  “We can leave. Let’s just go.” I started stepping backward out of the bedroom, but she stopped our progress.

  “No. He’s not going to win like this.”

  “This is not a contest.”

  “That can’t possibly be real blood,” she said, looking back at her bed.

  “The asshole works at a blood bank. If he’s as sick as I think he is, it’s probably your blood.”

  “Oh God, Mac, don’t say something like that. Why does it smell like that?”

  “There are a number of reasons. But oddly enough, the predominant odor doesn’t smell like blood.” I looked around the room from where we were standing in the doorway. I didn’t want to voice my thought out loud, but it smelled like decomposing flesh more than blood. Both had very distinct odors, and I was shocked some of this hadn’t been cleaned up by the police department when they collected evidence.

  “What on earth is that?” Taylor pulled from my embrace and started across the room. On the wall was line after line of chicken-scratch handwriting in what looked like black marker. Killian had warned me about that as well.

  “Let’s just start packing up the stuff you want to take and get out of here.” If I could dissuade her from reading the messages, she’d be better off.

  “Oh, this is disgusting. What a pig. He’s more delusional than I thought. Oh…yeah…no.” Her eyes grew wider the more she read.

  She turned to me where I was still standing in the doorway. “He’s really disturbed. This…” She pointed at the writing. “If they don’t arrest him after seeing this, I will lose all faith in those who are paid to protect the citizens. I mean, he’s written threats here, on my fucking bedroom wall. How he’s going to fuck me and kill me and then fuck my dead body. That’s not enough to arrest him? Really? What’s it going to take? My actual dead body?” Her voice stepped up in pitch with each question, panic transforming the features of her face.

  “Taylor. Taylor, look at me.” I strode across the room when she kept staring at the wall. Physically turning her by the shoulders to face me, I bent down to be directly in her line of sight. Her eyes were brimming with tears. “Listen to me.” She still didn’t meet my regard. “Baby. Look at me. Taylor!”

  Fully yelling her name snapped her to attention.

  “What?”

  “Get what you want to get from this place, and then we’re leaving. I won’t take no for an answer this time. I don’t want to stay here. I don’t want you to stay here. Tell me what you want to take, and I’ll help you pack it up.”

  She stared at me for a few moments before saying, “Clothing?”

  “Okay, let’s look in your closet. You walk over there with me. No more looking at that wall. Do you understand me?” I kept my face right in line with hers, not letting her eyes drift anywhere else.

  A quick nod of her head was all I needed to see before I towed her with me toward her closet. I carefully slid the rear door open on its track and was so thankful to see the things inside had been untouched.

  “Okay, we can do this,” I declared. “Do you have a suitcase around here? It will be easier to pack your things that way.” I felt like I was talking to a small child, but she was so spooked, and neither of us knew what we would find around the next corner.

  She answered like a robot. “Under the bed.”

  “I’ll get the suitcase. You start taking what you want from your closet out to the other room, and we’ll make space out there to fold.”

  My natural inclination to take charge worked perfectly in the situation. She was in the ozone, and I couldn’t blame her. I got on my knees beside the bed and lifted the bed skirt to look underneath, and I almost threw up from the smell that blasted me in the face. Something was under her bed, and it was definitely dead. I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and pressed the icon to make the flashlight illuminate. I saw the suitcase first and pulled that out of the way, dragging it to the middle of the bedroom floor. I ducked back down, shining the flashlight into the space left from where the suitcase was.

  “Oh, Jesus Christ,” I grumbled.

  “What’s wrong? What is it?”

  Taylor had come back into the room for another load of clothing. She was walking past just as I was cussing about my discovery. I rose to my knees and looked at her, trying to decide if I should tell her or make something up.

  “What’s under there? The smell is like thirty times worse since you pulled the suitcase out.” She was definitely doing better than when she first read the threats on the wall.

  “What does Mrs. Miller’s cat look like?” There was no way I was going to be able to hide this from her. The smell was taking over the room.

  “Jonah? He’s a big orange tabby. The biggest lover boy you�
��ve ever seen. Why do you ask?”

  The look on my face must have clued her in. That and the unmistakable smell of a dead carbon-based life-form.

  “Noooo. No, Mac. Nooo. That cat was all she had. Why would he do this? What am I going to tell her?” She held her face in her hands and dropped to her knees, sobbing. I quickly got up from where I was kneeling beside the bed and went to console her. Of course she pushed me away at first, in perfect Taylor fashion, but I knew better than to let her. I pulled her into my lap, cradling her in my arms, and let her cry it out.

  “Ssshhhh. It’s going to be okay, baby.” I knew things were far from being okay, but I didn’t have much more to say. Really, what kind of human being killed an innocent pet to prove his disturbed point? Which brought up an even more frustrating question: What point was he trying to make with all this destruction? That he was a tough guy? He was big and scary? Interesting how he had to do all of this while we were halfway across the world. Fucking coward. Like every other bully, nothing but a fucking coward.

  Her sweet sniffles shook me from my internal rant. “I’m okay.” She patted my chest softly. “I’m okay.” I leaned her back in my arms so I could look down at her face.

  “This is a lot to deal with. We can leave, and I can have people come do this.”

  “It’s all right. Let’s just get the stuff packed up, and then we can go. I’ll figure out a way to tell Mrs. Miller about Jonah.” She sniffed again and pushed up to stand. I followed suit and was reminded of the problem under the bed.

  “What do you think I should do about the, umm…” I motioned with a tilt of my head toward the bed.

  “I don’t know. If we leave him under there, that smell is just going to get worse. But I don’t have any trash bags.”

  “Okay, I’m going to go to the store on the corner for trash bags. Can you think of anything else we need? Wait. I can’t leave you here. Come with me.”