CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“WE’VE GOT HIM,” Macey said, her voice catching with excitement as it filled Bowen’s ear. He stood outside a cabin—another damn cabin that he’d been searching with Tucker. “Jonah just did a reverse DNS query and tracerouting and some pretty much computer voodoo magic—and he found the guy.”
“What? Slow down, Macey.”
“The perp was watching Dr. McKinley through his computer. Jonah found the email that was sent with the Trojan file attached. Jonah traced him—we’ve got the bastard! The guy is at the museum, Bowen. The file was emailed directly from the oddities museum!”
Fuck. “He was screwing with us.”
“Jonah and I are going there now—I left a cop to stay with Dr. Lopez. She just arrived. Are you meeting us at the museum? I—I know you’re supposed to stay back, but—”
“Tucker and I are on the way.” He’d let the other agent take lead, but Bowen would be there for his team.
She disconnected the call, and he turned to Tucker. “They got him!”
Tucker bounded toward him.
“The ME’s computer was being hacked. Jonah traced it back—he said the guy was at the oddities museum. The fucking place with the hate nails.” And the museum director had been so calm and controlled during their meeting. Peter Carter.
But Tucker shook his head. “The signal from your cabin wouldn’t transmit that far.”
“Then keep the men here searching. Maybe he has a second base here.” Tricky son of a bitch. “But Macey and Jonah are closing in and we’re their backup.”
Tucker barked orders to the local agents, and then they were rushing for Tucker’s rented SUV. They jumped inside and sped down the mountain.
“Do I need to remind you that you don’t have a fucking gun?” Tucker snapped at him. “You can’t go running into that place—”
“Then I’ll make sure he doesn’t run out,” he replied grimly. “You go in with Macey and Jonah. You watch her back.”
They rounded another curve. As they went down the mountain, Tucker could feel his ears popping. The road was steep and small, and dotted with cabins to the left and to the right.
“We checked that list of employees,” Tucker said as he held tight to the wheel. “No one came up as raising a red flag.”
“Then our perp just doesn’t have a record. He’s been good at hiding in plain sight.” But not good enough. “He didn’t count on Jonah.”
Tucker’s hands tightened around the wheel. “Right, Jonah.” But there was a note in his voice. A hesitation when he said the other agent’s name.
Bowen’s eyes narrowed. “Something you need to say?”
Tucker was silent.
“The guy is with Macey right now. She’s about to confront a killer. I need to know that the man with her can be counted on.” Wait, what was he even saying? Of course, Jonah could be counted on. The guy was FBI.
“I was the one who didn’t want Jonah on the team.” Tucker paused at the stop sign. Darkness was falling fast and his headlights flashed onto the road up ahead. “He doesn’t have enough field experience.”
Shit. Bowen had expressed that same worry—
“He’s done the training, yes, but then the guy sat behind a computer for years. When he’s confronted by a guy with a gun... I just wasn’t sure what he’d do.” He exhaled on a rough sigh. “Macey pulled for him,” Tucker continued as the vehicle accelerated. They’d left the subdivision of rental cabins and were snaking down the twisting mountain roads that would take them to Gatlinburg. “She worked with him on a few cases.”
And she got him to try to find Haddox.
“She knows more about his past than I do, and she convinced Samantha that the man would be an asset.” They crossed a bumpy, wooden bridge. “I have no doubt that Jonah Loxley is smart as hell, but I wanted to know that his instincts in the field were good.” Tucker slid him a quick glance. “You shot a man less than twenty-four hours ago. And it’s like you have freaking ice in your veins.”
No, that wasn’t what was in his veins.
“I would trust you under any high-pressure situation, any day of the week. Because I know you’d get the job done. You’d do anything necessary to protect your teammates and to protect any victims out there.”
Bowen cleared his throat. “You’d do the same.”
“Yeah, because you and I...we’re alike inside. We’ve seen the monsters, and we’ve both had to make the hardest fucking choice of all.”
The choice to kill. Because Tucker had taken out his brother.
“What choice do you think Jonah would make?” Bowen asked quietly.
“I’m afraid that’s what we will all have to find out.”
Bowen stared into the darkness before them. Macey was out there. “Hurry the hell up, would you, man?”
* * *
“IS IT ALWAYS this busy here?” Jonah demanded as he pushed through the crowd in downtown Gatlinburg. The small town was at the bottom of the mountains. The streets were lined with stores—the buildings connected one after the other. Families strolled the streets. Bands played. Cars honked. Chaos reigned.
“I think so,” Macey replied as she skirted a group of teenagers. Her holster was a reassuring weight at her side, hidden just beneath her coat. A chill was in the air, and the chill seemed to sink straight to her bones. She could see the oddities museum up ahead, but it was dark. She checked her watch. The sun had set just a few moments ago. Darkness came fast in the mountains, something she’d learned. Very, very fast.
“The sign says they shouldn’t be closed yet,” Jonah muttered.
No, they shouldn’t be. But the place was pitch-black.
“Guess someone decided to go home early,” he added darkly.
The police force in the area was stretched too thin. With their captain gone, with their mayor’s office in chaos, the cops had been divided—half were still at the Curtis Zale crime scene, searching for bodies. Some were with Tucker and Bowen, checking the cabins there, while other officers were tending to the basic safety needs of the people in the area.
So Macey and Bowen didn’t have a big backup force with them. They’d called the PD, but it was going to take time to marshal the officers, and time was a luxury they didn’t have. So she and Jonah had come alone.
But Bowen and Tucker are en route.
A big Closed sign hung on the main entrance. Macey put her hand to the front door. She expected to feel resistance from the lock, but instead, the door swung right open. Her head turned toward Jonah.
“Like that’s not suspicious.” He’d pulled out his gun.
She had hers at the ready. If the door was open, they’d be going in—especially with their intel pointing to this building.
“The guy could have just cleared the hell out,” Jonah said. “Maybe he realized we were onto him at the ME’s office.”
“Maybe.” She squared her shoulders. “I’m going in first. Cover me?”
“Right.” He nodded briskly. “Let’s do this.”
Macey pushed the door open and she rushed inside.
* * *
“YOU STAY OUT HERE,” Tucker directed. They’d finally arrived at the museum, but the place was dark and quiet. Tons of people lined the streets but the museum... It’s like a grave. “I’m going to check the back of the place.”
“Macey and Jonah are inside.” He knew it. They’d had a head start on him and Tucker. They had to be in there.
Tucker glanced at the building, and then he slid toward the front door. He put his fingers around the handle and he pushed it open.
Not locked.
“You cover the front,” Tucker said again, “and I’ll get the back.”
The guy rushed around the building. And Bowen pulled out his backup weapon, more than ready to face any threat that came.
His gaze strayed to that unlocked door.
Was Macey okay in there?
He took a step toward the door.
* * *
THEY CREPT UP the stairs. The place was as quiet as a tomb. Macey remembered her way around, thanks to her previous trip, so she knew the business office was located on the second floor.
The displays were turned off. The mannequins and animatronics were all still. In the dark, they created big, hulking shadows. Creepy as hell.
At the top of the stairs, she turned to the right.
Then she heard the stairs creak behind her, beneath Jonah’s feet.
He immediately stilled.
So did she.
“His office is to the left,” she said, barely whispering the words. She had a flashlight in her hand, one that she used to sweep out around her. A few more feet and she was at his office. The door wasn’t shut. Macey walked right in, with Jonah behind her. He pushed the door closed and then flipped on the lights.
Only they didn’t turn on. She took a step forward and heard something crunch beneath her shoe.
Macey’s flashlight swept the scene and she saw the destruction. Every computer there had been smashed. Glass and broken hard drives were scattered on the floor.
Her flashlight danced over the material once more. “Guess someone didn’t want us to see what was on those drives.” She hoped that Jonah could still recover the information. “We need to search this whole building,” Macey said. “We have to make sure he’s not still here.” She pulled out her phone and called Bowen. His line rang once, twice.
“Macey, where the hell are you?”
“Inside,” she told him, keeping her voice barely above a whisper. “Second floor—in the office. But the place is wrecked. Every computer here is smashed.”
Bowen swore. “I’m right outside the building, in the front. Tucker is around back.”
So they had the place surrounded. Good. “Jonah and I are going to search all the rooms.”
“Macey...”
She could hear something nearby. A faint moan.
“Someone’s here,” she whispered to Bowen. “I have to go.” She shoved the phone into her pocket and picked up her flashlight again. Jonah was already on the move. He’d left the office, following that low moan.
And, up ahead, she could see that a light was flashing. On, off, on, off. The strobe light. Everything else in the building was pitch-black, but the strobe light had power in that display room.
How the hell is it still working? And I swear...it wasn’t on a few minutes ago.
Jonah entered first. The strobe light kept flashing, and the moaning was definitely coming from that room. Jonah’s flashlight aimed to the right, catching the mummy there.
It was moaning.
She saw Jonah’s shoulders sag.
“Just a special effect,” he muttered. “Just—”
Someone lunged from the darkness, racing right at Jonah and slamming into him. Jonah lost his grip on his light and it went flying.
A man was screaming, yelling, and Jonah’s gun went off. The thundering blast was deafening.
* * *
WHEN HE HEARD the gunshot, Bowen grabbed for the front door. He raced inside the darkened building, and he immediately saw the flash of lights coming from the second floor. He grabbed for the banister and rushed up, barely hearing the squeak of stairs beneath him. His heart raced in his chest, and he couldn’t get up to the second floor fast enough.
“FBI!” Macey’s voice called out.
She’s all right. She’s all right.
“Freeze!” Macey shouted. “Put down the weapon now.”
Bowen burst into the room behind her. The strobe light was flashing, and it made the scene before him appear to be in slow motion.
Macey stood with her body braced. Her gun was aimed and pointed at her prey.
Jonah was on the floor, but his weapon was still in his hand, and his gun was also locked dead center on his target.
Peter Carter.
Peter’s shoulder was dark—was that blood? Bowen couldn’t tell in the flickering light, but he could see the gun clutched in Peter’s shaking hand.
“Ac-accident...” Peter stammered. “That’s what it was... I don’t care what you think... I never meant to kill her!”
“Peter, drop the gun,” Macey demanded. “Now.”
But he didn’t. The weapon kept shaking in his hand as it swung between Macey and Jonah.
“I l-loved her.” Peter took a stumbling step back. “That’s why I couldn’t let her go!” His words tumbled out too fast. He took another step back. The strobe kept flashing. “I wanted to keep her close, that’s all. But when you took her...I knew I had to leave.”
“You aren’t leaving,” Jonah snarled. “You aren’t getting away. You killed too many people. You hurt too many—”
“No, no!” Peter yelled. The gun in his hand locked on Jonah. “I didn’t! Trying to frame me! That’s what’s happening! I checked the computer—I saw! I saw what happened!”
“Did you destroy those computers?” Macey asked quietly. She edged closer to the museum manager. “Are you the reason they’re smashed into bits?”
Peter nodded.
Bowen stalked up behind Macey.
Peter’s frantic gaze immediately jerked to him—and so did his gun. Peter stared straight at Bowen. “I didn’t do it... Just her. Just her... An accident.”
The guy was making zero fucking sense. “Put down the gun,” Bowen ordered him. “And you can tell us your story.”
But Peter didn’t. He shook his head. The gun kept trembling. “You’ll lock me up. I’ll never get out. I can’t...I can’t live that way.”
“Then maybe,” Jonah growled at him, his voice hard and cold, “you should have thought about that shit before you killed the police captain. Before you went after Daniel Haddox and Patrick Remus and—”
“I didn’t! I never did that!” Peter’s voice was a screech.
A scared screech.
Peter’s hand jerked. “Who else is here?” he called out. “Who is here?” Now he was almost yelling.
“Calm down, Peter.” Macey’s voice was calm. Soothing. She took another step toward him. “We all need to be calm. I want you to lower your weapon, and when you do, we’ll lower ours, too. No one has to get hurt today.”
But Peter looked down at his shoulder. “I’m already hurt.” The gun flew toward Jonah. “He shot me.”
“Because you ran out at me in the freaking dark,” Jonah snapped back. His grip on his weapon had never wavered.
Peter’s body sagged. “I loved her,” he said again. “That’s why... I was just... I was so mad at first. She said she loved me, too, you know? But she was cheating on me. Screwing around with him. I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t let her go, not to him.”
“Who?” Macey blasted.
“The cop,” Peter said. “She was screwing around with him.”
“With Henry Harwell?” Bowen pushed as a puzzle piece slid into place.
Peter’s gun rose. “Couldn’t let her leave... It was an accident but... So mad...” His eyes squeezed shut.
The strobe light flashed.
“Sorry...so fucking s-sorry.”
And he whipped up the gun. Bowen knew what the guy was going to do. Peter had already told them he wouldn’t go to jail.
So he’ll go to the grave.
“No!” Jonah yelled.
A gun blasted.
Peter’s body jerked, like a marionette who’d just had his string yanked hard, and he stumbled back. The gun was still in his hand.
But only for a moment...
The gun fell to the floor. Then Peter fell.
Bowen ran toward him. Jonah rushed to the left. Jonah kicked the gun away, and Bowen tried to find the wound as the strobe light flashed.
“Left side,” Macey said quietly. “That’s where I aimed because I didn’t want to kill him.”
And Bowen found the wound. He put pressure on it, and Peter screamed, “No! No! I won’t go to jail!”
“Yes,” Bowen told him grimly. “You fucking will.”
* * *
THE POWER WAS back on at the museum—back on everywhere. Apparently, the power had been shut down to all the rooms, every room except the one that had been home to the skull and its hate nails.
Peter Carter had been taken away in an ambulance—one complete with an armed police guard. Macey and Jonah had been grilled about the shooting—and she knew the FBI brass would want official statements from her soon. Another officer-involved shooting. Only this time, the perp wasn’t dead.
Because she’d made sure of it.
Lights flooded the area, and Macey stared at the destruction that had been left in the business office on the second floor. “Think you can save anything from those computers?” she asked as she motioned toward the wreckage.
“You’d be surprised by just how much damage one of the machines can take,” Jonah muttered back. “But I can’t make any promises, not yet.”
“Do your best.” She turned away and headed for the door. But Jonah placed a hand on her shoulder to stop her.
“Who was he talking about?” Jonah asked her. “Who is the mystery woman?”
Macey glanced back at him. “I don’t know yet, but I do know how to find out.”
Jonah’s brows furrowed.
“I’m pretty sure we have her skull,” Macey said softly.
His eyes widened.
“That’s why he panicked. That’s why Peter was trying to get away. We have him dead to rights, and he knew it.” She gave a bitter laugh. “That’s why he wanted death. Because we’re going to have enough proof to lock the guy away for a very long time.”
“I don’t understand...”
Macey parted her lips to respond.
“It was the skull that put things into motion,” Bowen answered before Macey could.
She glanced toward the door and saw him filling the space. His eyes were on her and Jonah.
Jonah’s hand slipped from her shoulder.
“We’re going to need to thoroughly examine the skull we took from this museum,” Macey said. “Because I suspect it’s not some ancient relic like the info card next to the exhibit said. I think it’s the skull of Peter Carter’s victim.” A girlfriend, one who’d been involved with Captain Henry Harwell.
“You’re telling me the guy kept his ex’s skull on exhibit?” Jonah sounded disgusted. He shook his head. “That’s some twisted shit.”
“Some people are twisted,” Macey replied as she pulled down the edge of her sleeve. “Some people just can’t let go.”
“So what...we think Peter Carter is good for the kills? That he offed the girlfriend, then also took out the captain?” A line appeared between Jonah’s brows. “Why everyone else? Did the guy get a taste for killing?”
Macey shook her head. “I don’t think he did kill the others.”
“But the nails...” Jonah began. “He used them on the skull. If that is the dead girlfriend, he used them on her, and our perp has been using that same sick MO with every single kill.”
Yes, he had.
“Get to work on the computers,” Bowen said. “When you make some headway, let us know. Macey and I will be heading to the hospital.”
“I want to check on Dr. McKinley.” He should be out of surgery by now. As for Peter Carter, she knew he’d be staying in the hospital—under guard—for the time being.
She turned and followed Bowen out of the office. The building was teeming with activity, hardly surprising considering everything that had gone down. No strobe light was flashing any longer. In fact, every light in the place was on, and as she walked past the exhibits, the whole scene almost felt surreal.
They slipped down the stairs, past the cops and investigators, and when they were finally outside, Macey wasn’t the least bit surprised to see the crowd that had gathered there. Her gaze swept the scene, curious about the bystanders there.
So many people were avidly watching the scene unfold. Morbid curiosity was in full effect as the police lights flashed. Reporters were there, too. She figured they’d run out of time as far as the news was concerned. But Macey didn’t stop to talk with the reporters. Tucker was handling them, and as they eased past the throng throwing questions at him, Macey heard Tucker say, “The FBI will be issuing a full statement soon. Again, I just want to reassure the public that the FBI has contained this crime scene, and one suspect has been placed under arrest.”
For suspicion of murder. “I need to see that skull,” Macey said as she and Bowen finally cleared the crowd. The identity of that victim was key. They climbed into Tucker’s SUV—she knew Tucker would be hitching a ride back with Jonah.
She sat behind the steering wheel, her gaze darting around the parking lot. There was so much she wanted to do. So much she needed to do.
“You okay?” His deep voice rumbled in the quiet interior of the vehicle.
“Never better.” She reached forward to turn the key.
His hand flew out and curled around her wrist. She could feel his fingertips brush over the scars on her wrist. “I thought we were past the bullshit point.”
Her head turned toward him. “I’m okay, Bowen.”
“He wanted to kill himself.”
“Or he wanted us to kill him.” Because she wasn’t so convinced that he would have pulled the trigger. Peter had waved that gun at them again and again, so desperately, wanting them to fire. “He attacked Jonah. Came right at him. Peter wanted to die. He wanted an out because he didn’t want to spend his life in prison.”
“Too bad, because that’s exactly where he’s heading.”
Right.
His fingers slid from hers.
She turned the key. The vehicle’s engine immediately growled to life.
“You never thought about killing him, did you, Mace?”
She pulled out of the lot. “Our job isn’t to kill the perps. We’re supposed to arrest them. Give the victims justice.” She swallowed and kept her grip tight on the steering wheel as she slowly navigated through the bumper-to-bumper traffic in downtown Gatlinburg. “Every bit of evidence we have points to this guy as being our perp. McKinley’s computer—Jonah traced the hack back to the museum. The fact that all of the victims had nails in them—just like that skull...” Her breath blew out. “Jonah is right—it does fit the MO. Peter is the right age, he’s a local, so he knows the area. He had a personal vendetta against Henry Harwell. So much about him being the killer makes sense.”
He shifted in his seat. “But there are things that still don’t add up.”
She kept her breath nice and easy. Her fingers wanted to tremble and that was why she had a death grip on the steering wheel. A shooting was never easy, and she kept seeing that moment again and again in her mind. She’d have reports to complete on the shooting, but Macey didn’t think she’d be pulled off fieldwork. Not now—there was too much at stake. Things were moving too fast.
Bowen should have been completely benched after the Zale shooting, yet he’d been right in the thick of things with her, and she’d been grateful to have him there.
She always felt better when Bowen was closer. Safer. Stronger.
She’d made the decision to wound Peter, not kill him. But what if that had been the wrong decision? What if he’d fired back at her? Or at Bowen?
“Why go after Haddox?” Bowen wondered. “After Remus? If Peter is our perp, why would he go after such big game?”
“We’ll be asking him that question,” Macey said as she finally pulled free of the traffic and headed toward the giant, gaping tunnel that had been carved right through the mountain itself. The SUV shot into that tunnel. “We’ve got him in custody. He’s not going anywhere. We’ll find out the truth about him.”
She risked a glance to her right and found Bowen staring straight at her. She shivered.
“You were supposed to stay outside,” Macey said.
“Fuck that. I heard the gunshot blast. You were in there.”
He said the words...like I matter. But then, they were partners. Partners mattered. “It’s good to have a partner like you on my side.”
The tension in the vehicle seemed to deepen. “Macey.” Her name was a growl. “I think we need to get a few things straight.”
He sounded angry.
“There’s a pullover right after the tunnel. Park there,” he said.
She knew the spot. There were plenty of places like it in the Smokies. Spots to stop and take pictures. To see the streams. The wildlife.
“Pull over, Macey.”
She eased off the road. She shifted into Park and turned toward him. The light from the dashboard provided a bit of illumination so that she could see his face.
“We’re not just partners.”
Her breath slid out. “Right. Everyone knows now, don’t they? They have to know that we slept together because he was watching—”
His hand curled beneath her chin. “It’s not just sleeping together. Not just fucking. At least, that’s not what it has been to me.”
Her heart slammed into her chest. “Bowen?”
“I’ve wanted you for a long time, Mace.” Her nickname rolled off his tongue and seemed to chase some of the chill from her body. “But I didn’t want to scare you. I know you were hurting.”
Damaged. She stiffened.
“Don’t.” He seemed to bite the word off. “Don’t tense up, not with me. Don’t block me the way you do everyone else. I don’t need your mask or your shield. I need you.”
Macey couldn’t look away from him.
“You’re not my secret. Having you in my bed isn’t something I want to hide from the world. I want you, Macey. I want you at my side. With me. And I didn’t fucking run into that building just because you were my partner. I did it because I can’t stand the thought of anything happening to you.”
He leaned toward her.
“I wish I could take all of your pain away, Macey. I wish that I could have been the one to stop Haddox. I wanted to make him pay for what he did to you. I never want you to hurt again, and if I have my way, you won’t.”
She wanted to kiss him. His mouth was close to hers and the adrenaline rode her hard. She wanted to throw her hands around him and hold on tight. Don’t let go. Don’t.
“That’s how I feel,” Bowen rasped. “Now you need to figure out how you feel. The case will end. We’ll go back to our lives. What do you want that to be like?”
He was putting the choice in her hands.
Need and fear clawed within her. “Bowen...”
He kissed her. Her mouth was open and his tongue slid right past her lips. Her hands flew up and locked around his shoulders, holding him as tight as she’d wanted moments before. Holding him as if she would never let go.
There was desperation in the kiss. Passion. Raw need. She wanted to let go—to finally just let all of her emotions go and be with him.
Bowen pulled back. “Your choice, Mace.”
Her breath was coming too fast and hard.
“In the end,” he said, “it’s always going to be about you.”
* * *
THE MURDERING BASTARD wasn’t dead.
The crowd was still thick in front of the museum. People twisting their necks and whispering about the crime that had happened. Or what they thought had occurred.
Peter Carter had been taken away. Not in a body bag.
In a freaking ambulance. He’d been moaning and spouting about his innocence the whole time.
Peter should have been dead. The feds should have gone in there and shot him. The scene had been set. And Peter...the fool would have been armed. He’d found all of the evidence, all of the videos, everything on his computer. The guy should have panicked. He should have attacked.
And then the feds should have taken him out. Every move had been planned perfectly and he’d been promised this ending.
What went wrong? Because something had.
Now Peter Carter was alive. He was in a hospital, not on a slab in the morgue. And that wouldn’t work.
Not at all.