CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Ally

I followed Annie through the store, pleading with her. “Did you know they created my father?”

She shoved a granola bar into the pile of food clutched against her chest. “Who’s your father?”

“Daniel Simon Watkins.”

She stopped and slowly turned her head toward me, her lips turning up in an eerie grin. “You’re the Basement Killer’s daughter?”

I nodded.

She beamed, and given the subject, it made me uneasy. “Boy, that’s gotta piss you off. They only convinced my father to give my sister to that sick fuck, Charles. Shit, your dad’s on headline news. All those women. One of those council fucks had to be creaming themselves. Who was it, I wonder? Oscar, Clive, Arthur, Victoria, Bradley, Antonio, Rue, Kalvin?” She shook her head as she rambled. “Hell, I can’t remember the rest of them now. Boy, I bet they made a mess of your life.”

She knew the council members? But she didn’t know about Oscar. I pulled down the sleeve of my shirt. Letting her see my scar was probably not the best idea. “Yes. They ruined everything.”

She chuckled and continued to search the aisles. “That must really make you angry.”

“Yeah…you have no idea. How did you learn so much about them?”

She shrugged; foil wrappers crumpled with her movement. “I eavesdropped on the meetings my dad held at our house, snooped through his journals, and then there were the arguments he and my mom had. I also worked at their freakfest of a dungeon. They want you to think that Ellington House is for the sophisticated—some highbrow bullshit—but it’s a fucking dungeon, nothing else. And the shit that goes down there…the drugs…the abuse… The night I left was the night Charles came through the front door during a party with two young girls on his arms. They couldn’t have been more than ten, maybe twelve at most. No one batted an eye. The drugs, that’s how they keep their staff loyal.”

I had to ask. “Did you ever see Xavier at those parties?”

“No. But his wife, that was a different story. When Charles wasn’t doing little girls, he was bending Xavier’s wife over some piece of furniture. They are all fucked up. What is your name by the way?”

“Elaine.”

“I’m Annie Smith. I used to be Annie Groslyn, but I want no association with those people, so I changed my name.”

“Annie, I’m glad to meet you. They need to be stopped.”

She looked me up and down. “I highly doubt you’d be willing to dirty your hands with what will be necessary to put an end to them.”

Three days earlier, I would have agreed with her. “You might be surprised.”

Just then, Marco appeared beside me and grabbed my hand.

She eyed him suspiciously.

“Annie this is my boyfriend, Marco.”

He extended his hand to her. “Pleasure to meet you, Annie.” With his other hand, he tapped on my back.

Annie looked at her arms full of food. “Rain check on the hand shake.”

I smiled at her. “Why don’t you take everything up to the counter? I’m going to grab a few things, and I’ll be there to pay for it.”

“Sure.” She walked toward the front of the store, assessing the shelves for snacks she might have missed.

Marco instantly grabbed my elbow and spun me around. “What in the hell are you doing? That woman is a stalker. She’s dangerous. Why didn’t you wait for me?”

“I spotted her begging outside the building across the street. We knew this was her neighborhood. You knew why we were here, and I brought her into the store with you. I was cautious.”

“Do I need to remind you that she wants to kill the man you’re going to marry?”

I stared at him with an incredulous look. “Of course not.”

“You are insane,” he muttered, throwing his hands up in surrender.

“No, I’m compassionate and enterprising in equal measure, dear. Can I call you that? Do I need to have a different term of endearment for each of you?” My excitement over discovering Annie and her abundance of knowledge had energized me. Unfortunately, the excitement caused confidence to turn my responses flippant. “A couple of important things to note. Don’t mention my association with the Society outside of them manipulating my father, no mention of my wrist, and don’t utter Xavier’s name. Otherwise follow my lead.”

“God, I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“I do.” I inclined my head, and he took my cue, pressing his lips to mine in a quick kiss.

I walked to the counter where Annie fidgeted, tapping her foot. I handed the cashier my credit card, and she scanned each item, and placed them in a bag.

I then passed Annie her bag of goodies and turned toward the door.

She grabbed me by my arm. “Hey. Thanks.” She abruptly let go.

“No problem. Do you need a place to stay?” I couldn’t exactly take her back to Xavier’s but perhaps a hotel.

She looked down at the ground, and in a soft voice said, “I’m not exactly homeless. Close enough, though. But I am broke. Hard to keep a job. Being homeless makes people give you more.” She rubbed her foot against the pavement. “But I do need it, I assure you.”

“Annie… You don’t need to justify anything to me. I know what it’s like to be a victim of these assholes. If there’s any way I can help, let me know. Let me give you my number.” I started toward the SUV to find a pen.

Marco strode to the side of the vehicle.

“Wait.” Annie called out.

I stopped and turned to face her.

“You serious about wanting to stop them?”

“Absolutely.”

She sighed. “Then come with me. I have to show you something.”

“He’ll need to come with me.” I pointed to Marco. “You know, overprotective brute.”

“Are you sure he isn’t connected to them?” she asked, eyeing him cautiously.

“Positive.”

She inhaled deeply and fidgeted for a moment as she mulled it over. “Fine.”

With the SUV parked and the duffle bag stored out of sight, Marco and I followed Annie on foot for three city blocks.

She turned down an alley that smelled of rotten trash and urine, the pavement damp and musty. She took a key out of her pocket and slid it into the lock on the steel door. “This is where I live.”

We ascended a narrow set of stairs into what looked to have once been a boiler room. Sawed off pipes lined one of the walls. The room had a nice fresh coat of white paint, which tamed its eeriness. There was a small bed, a door to the interior of the building, and not much else. I spun in a slow circle, examining the small room. When I saw the wall behind me, I stopped moving, surprised by the display she had fixed there.

Notes scribbled in black markers, photos taped to the matte white paint, and stacks of books and notebooks lining the floor.

Annie moved to stand in front of the wall. “It’s all here. I documented every inch of Ellington House when I worked there. Everything I know about their hierarchy.”

“Why did they let you leave?”

“They pretty much asked me to. I don’t think they expected me to live. The heroin did almost kill me. They got me addicted, and when I asked too many questions, they tossed me out into the streets, cutting off my supply.”

“How did you make it?”

“There’s a cop who’s been helping me. He got me this place. Helped me get clean, and in exchange, I’ve been giving him everything I know about them.”

“What’s the detective’s name?”

“Mancini. You know him, right?”

“Yes. He arrested my father.”

“He’s been trying to bring them down for years.”

“You sure he isn’t one of them?” I asked, roaming closer to the wall to study her collage of information.

Annie peeled off her jacket and started tossing her groceries into a worn backpack. “Guess anything’s possible with those bastards. But he seems a little too clueless. I misled him a few times on purpose as a test. He passed. The problem is we can’t get close enough. Does Xavier Vincent still have the hots for you?”

Marco wound his arm tighter around my waist.

I shrugged. “Not sure, why?”

“He’s your ticket. I need you to seduce him.” She glanced up at Marco. “Hotness, you’re going to have let her get groped a little by doctor sexy for the greater good.”

Marco played along. “I don’t know if I like that idea.”

She grabbed my hands and stared into my eyes with desperation. “Xavier Vincent is the key. He’ll never listen to me, not after what I’ve put him through, but you…”

I wasn’t the only one who was enterprising. “How do you know you can trust me?”

“Oh, trust me. I’m going to check you out with Mancini, but if you’re really the basement killer’s daughter, you and I are sort of kindred spirits. Tell me you don’t want to end them.”

“Oh, I do.”

“You have more motivation than anyone else I can think of. I’m willing to take the chance.” She kicked the backpack out of the way. “But I’m still checking with Mancini. I know he worked your father’s case. He’ll be straight with me.”

I watched as she hopped onto the bed and opened a bag of chips. “Does the detective know you’re trying to kill Xavier?”

“Hell no. He knew I got in trouble in Paris, but I told him I was just trying to scare him. I do think he knows I like to torture Xavier.” She cackled. “He wants to bring them to justice. The only justice for them is death, otherwise they’ll manipulate the system.” She pulled a cell phone from her pocket, typed in my number from the piece of paper I had handed her earlier and then pressed a button. “There, I texted you my number. Now go find Dr. Vincent and make yourself irresistible. I’m going to get in touch with Detective Mancini, hope you check out, and let him know his trump card just arrived.”