Chapter 19

I’m ready to settle down and suck the same cock for the rest of my life.

-Freya to Hanson Coller

Ridley

“You could’ve told me earlier in the day exactly why you were here. You knew before I left for the night that you’d be calling me,” I growled.

Freya touched my hand lightly, and I curled my hand around hers tightly.

Agent Fork shrugged.

“Being here is twofold,” he explained. “I didn’t know about the tattoo shop owner until you were leaving, and by then I figured I’d give you a couple hours to get some dinner before I brought you back.”

“Tell me what you know, and I’ll give you the same,” I said, pointing to my desk chair for Freya to take a seat.

She was justifiably upset, and I couldn’t blame her for the tears that were streaking down her face.

“Daisy Mendes was found outside her establishment dead, about fifteen hours after you left,” Agent Fork started without preamble. “She was found by one of the tattoo artists that opens the place around one in the afternoon. She was strangled.”

Freya’s voice squeaked out as she listened to the agent speak, but I had to give her credit, mostly she kept herself in check.

“Okay,” I said. “That was today?”

“Yesterday,” the other agent, Caldwater, answered. “It’s 0400 now.”

I looked at my watch and sighed, then lifted my hand to pinch the bridge of my nose. “Okay. So this was yesterday.”

Both agents nodded.

“We left the tattoo parlor around two in the morning, then drove back to the hotel to gather Freya’s belongings. She stopped in to say goodbye to her friend, then Michael Prosser drove her car back and she rode with me,” I said. “But you know all this, right?”

He nodded.

“And so you have to have a reason for being here if you have alibis on all of us. Who do you think did it?” I asked.

I had my suspicions.

I just needed confirmation.

Both agents exchanged looks, then Agent Fork pulled out a folded piece of paper from his jacket pocket and unfolded it.

Placing it on the desk between the two of us, he leaned back and waited.

“Fucking hell,” I said.

Freya gasped as the enormity of it all finally hit her.

“You think Hanson Coller did this?” she asked. “Why?”

“He was caught on surveillance there after you left,” Agent Coldwater said. “Then again at the hotel about an hour later. He was surveyed in the hallway that housed the room you were previously located in before you checked out.”

I sensed something else was amiss here, but I didn’t figure it out in time to brace myself for what he said next.

“He broke into your room first, and when he found it empty, he knocked on the door that belonged to the woman you said goodbye to before you left,” Agent Fork explained evenly.

“After we followed down the lead at the tattoo parlor, we ran Coller’s bank info and found him checked into the room that was directly above yours. When we reviewed the video feed, we found him trying to find you. When he couldn’t get to you, he went for Kelsey Kincaid in hopes that she could lead him to you,” Agent Fork’s eyes were focused entirely on Freya.

“Oh God,” Freya whispered. “Is she...is she okay?”

Agent Fork’s eyes said something different than his words.

“She’s okay,” he confirmed. “It’ll take a lot to get her back on her feet, but the doctors believe that in time she’ll make a complete recovery.”

I didn’t believe the words any more than Freya did, proving that she wasn’t nearly the innocent that we all thought she was.

“Tell me truthfully,” Freya demanded. “Now.”

Agent Coldwater sighed.

“She’s going to be okay…eventually. What was done to Kelsey…it wasn’t good. She’s going to need a lot of help. And when I say a lot, I mean therapy. Her body will heal physically, but mentally…what she saw…it was bad.”

“What exactly happened?” Freya asked carefully. “And where is she so I can go see her?”

“She’s at a burn center in New Orleans,” he answered her. “She’s going to be there for a while as she goes through the most critical part of the healing process.”

“How…tell me…what was done to her?” Freya asked, her voice just barely above a whisper.

“She was burned, repeatedly, over the course of a couple of hours. It was only one arm, but it was enough to cause quite a bit of damage,” Agent Fork answered. “The police arrived at the room, we think, and interrupted him before he was finished; otherwise, he wouldn’t have ever left her alive. Not with all the questions he’d asked her. She was able to give a clear accounting before they sedated her, and the questions she was asked, all of them centered on the two of you.”

“Oh, God,” she whispered. “That’s terrible.”

“Daisy…” I started. “Was the same done to her?”

Both agents nodded. “Yes.”

“And you think that he’ll be coming back here…for us.” It was a statement, not a question, meaning that I already knew the answer. I just wanted to know what they were thinking, too.

“So we’re not being brought upon any charges?” he asked.

Both agents shook their heads.

“No,” Agent Fork answered. “All we need from you is your cooperation. We’d like you to go into protective custody until we can find Coller. He’s being linked to well over thirty murders across three states with similar nuances.”

“So you’re thinking he’s a serial killer?” I asked.

Agent Coldwater confirmed my suspicions.

“Did you question the man that he brought into the ER, the one who had his foot chewed on by the alligator?” Freya asked suddenly.

Both men turned to her.

“What man?” I asked her softly.

“The day that you came, two days ago?” she said. “That’s why he was there. He brought in a man who was bitten by an alligator. Both of them were similar in looks now that I think about it.”

“His brother,” I said, turning to the two agents. “There’s a third brother, one that was a little slow. Everyone always thought he had autism or something, but Hanson kept him secluded at his house about ten minutes from here, directly on the river.”

“Will you show us the house?” Coldwater asked.

I nodded.

“She’s not coming with me, though,” I pointed at Freya. “I’ll have to get some men up here to watch her.”

“I’ll do it, son,” Sheriff Leslie said as he came into the room.

Leffron, the other deputy that’d been on the Coller case, followed him.

“We’ve had a sighting of Coller, and he’s not at his house. He’s at The Uncertain Saints’ clubhouse.”

Mother. Fucker.