Chapter Twenty-three

Lacie sat in Simon’s rental car, riding along to the police station for the line-up, twisting her hands in her lap. A knot of dread settled in her stomach, pooling and eating away at her.

She had to do this. The fact the suspect might possibly be one of the ones who’d broken into her house should have been enough. But the fact he’d been apprehended breaking into another woman’s house shook her to the core.

There were other women being targeted, living through this hellish nightmare, and they didn’t have the stalwart Simon by their side.

A sudden thought struck her. “What about Emily? We bought the modifications together. Is she in trouble?”

Simon’s hands whitened on the steering wheel. “It’s a possibility. But it looks like this guy has a particular ‘type’ he’s looking for. Thankfully, Emily doesn’t fit it yet.”

Emily was a little overweight. Did that keep her safe?

“Should I call her? Warn her?”

Simon nodded. “Yes, we’ll call her this evening when we’ve got a place to stay. I’m going to talk to someone at the police station about issuing a public warning against these modifications. We may end up needing to talk to a news outlet. But I’d really like to know who’s behind it, or our warnings to the public will just make him go underground.”

He spoke of the media as if a trip to hell were preferable, and Lacie smiled at him in spite of her trepidations.

But she was still scared. What if she choked and couldn’t recognize him? She’d been told it was the man matching the description of her second attack, and she’d tried to remember the events of that night to refresh her brain, but they were all so vague. What if she failed the other women by not being able to pick him?

What if she picked the wrong man? What if her hazy memories failed her and she condemned an innocent? She’d heard of that happening a lot recently, especially in light of recent DNA testing that had exonerated hundreds of convicts. There wasn’t any DNA from her scene to match him to, so what if she fingered the wrong man?

Or what if, somehow, he saw her? He’d been to her house once. What if he came back and killed her after she picked him out and accused him?

Her breathing had gotten fast and shallow, and Lacie forced a deep inhale. If he wanted retribution, he would have come back and gotten it already.

Simon reached over and steadied her busy hands.

“Relax. This is going to be okay. I promise.” His words and soothing tone reassured her immeasurably. Her breathing evened out as he clasped her hand in his and rubbed the back of it with his thumb.

When they arrived at the police station, it was much how she’d expected it to be: a bustling hive of activity in a maze of cheap but clean furniture. Men and women everywhere walked with a purpose, as if they were late for important meetings. It made Lacie feel both insignificant and very important, as if she were in the way and helping them meet their goal of putting away bad guys at the same time. It was a strange dichotomy and left her feeling out of sorts and uncomfortable.

Simon spoke quietly to an officer, then led her into a small room with a huge window. Lacie knew it was two-way glass—the people on the other side wouldn’t be able to see her—but she still trembled.

When the men were all filed in, though, her thoughts of not being able to pick him out were squashed. As soon as she saw his eyes, she knew. Lacie hadn’t been able to recall his eye color for the police, only that they were dark.

But when she saw this man, his eyes stared straight at her. His head was slightly down, but his eyes were open and straight ahead. She recognized the dangerous brown depths, the dark circles under them, the angry crinkles at the edges. He was dressed in a suit. Not a fancy one, like Simon’s, but his shoes were nice and probably expensive. It was a weird contradiction with him dressed like a mid-level executive and that dangerous face and eyes. She wouldn’t want to do business with him.

“That’s him, number five.” She shuddered as she whispered the words. With a sudden, dawning clarity, Lacie knew he would know it was her behind the glass, fingering him as her would-be rapist. He would know. He would remember. And she would never be safe.

After some more paperwork, Lacie was ready to go home with Simon. “I need to use the restroom first.” He was leading her down a hallway when he was stopped by a man. Lacie continued, feeling Simon’s watchful gaze on her back the rest of the way.

Lacie caught herself dawdling in the bathroom, needing the peace after the high stress volume of the police room she’d been in. Everything was constant motion in the APD main area—cubicles and people and phones ringing everywhere. After taking care of necessities, she splashed cold water on her face and pushed back the faint headache behind her eyes.

A friendly-sounding voice came through a small crack in the door. “Miss Hill? Mr. Pierce wants me to walk you to his car.”

“I’m coming.” It was weird. She didn’t think Simon would leave her alone until they’d caught whoever was behind all this, but if he trusted this police officer, she would too. She pushed outside and found a nice-looking, youngish policeman waiting for her. She managed a weak smile, and he took her by the elbow and started steering her to the door at the end of the hallway.

Simon was going over everything with Nguyen as well as the FBI agent that had just gotten there. They had facts but weren’t putting them together right. If the FBI knew something they didn’t, they weren’t telling Simon, not that he expected they would.

His phone rang while they were going over the list of perps—again. Simon was impatient, needing to get back to Lacie.

When he saw it was his sister, Simon answered. “Hello?”

“Hey, Quinten called and dropped the code word on me.”

So there was a reason he hadn’t been picking up his phone. Simon had been calling him most of the day.

“By the way, we really need to update the code word.”

“What did he say, Bonnie?” Simon tried to hide his frustration, not wanting to upset her, but the code word was only to be used in emergencies. And knowing what was going down, Simon felt fear for his brother and wondered why the fuck he’d called Bonnie.

“He told me to put down the pudding cup and meet him at this address. He made me write it down and repeat it back to him. There was a man in the background, feeding him the words. And he sounded funny, like he was drunk.”

“Okay, give me the address.” Simon grabbed a piece of paper and wrote it down as he went into the hallway. Nguyen gave him an odd look. It was a remote location in the new warehouse district. No telling where Quinten was, but the pudding cup reference was the siblings’ code word for danger. They hadn’t used it in years, and Simon never at all. The age difference made it a no-go for him. But when one of them was in trouble, the word pudding was what they used to alert the other.

“I’m on my way out there to scope it out for you. I’ll call back when I get there.”

“No, you’re not, Bonnie. This guy is dangerous. And there has to be a reason Quinten is involving you.” Simon’s heart leapt into his throat. “You stay where Zack can watch out for you. This is a really bad situation.” Jonas was definitely involved, and things were coming to a head. If he didn’t have the evidence before to prove it, the fact that he obviously had Quinten made it a certainty for him. Jonas would stop at nothing to ruin anybody with the last name of Pierce.

Simon made some hurried excuses about work to Nguyen and the FBI before turning to go find Lacie. She’d been in the restroom long enough. He knew she probably just wanted some quiet time, but now was not the time for luxuries like that.

He pounded on the door to the women’s bathroom, only for it to open and Amber Banks slide out. “I know the laws have changed, but I’m sure you’d find the men’s restroom more comfortable,” she joked.

“Is Lacie in there? Tallish, brunette braid, jeans?”

Amber shook her head. “It’s empty.” Thankfully, she grasped the seriousness. “I’ll put out a bulletin?”

“Yeah, do that,” Simon raced down the hallway. “Dex has been with her, he can give you details!” Calling over his shoulder, he didn’t bother skidding to a halt before crashing through the door at the end of the hallway to the outside.

He had to find her and get her out of Jonas’s clutches. Sure as shit, he knew Jonas had her, or one of his accomplices was doing all the dirty work for him.

Either way, if he couldn’t save her, he wasn’t under any illusions about what would eventually happen to her. Pulling out his phone, he ran as he spoke to whoever answered.

“I need everyone to this address.” He rattled off the address Bonnie had given him to Miriam. “Leave Deena Rae and Zack there for backup. Quinten and Lacie have been taken, and Bonnie is on her goddamned motherfucking way.” He got to the stupid Kia he’d been rented. “Full gear. I want every bit of firepower we have. This guy’s dangerous. Everything in me says it’s Jonas.”