CHAPTER FIFTEEN
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Brett’s road and driveway were currently inundated by local and state police cars. Her parents were in the kitchen, and two of her closest friends were keeping her company in the living room while she waited for Coen to walk back through her front door.
She was relatively safe from the totally insane psychopath who had managed to take Martin Eyles’ life, as well as more than eighteen women who’d suffered horrible deaths from torture dispensed at his hands.
Yet she didn’t feel secure at all.
She wouldn’t…not until Coen held her in his arms again.
“Can I get you anything else?” Chad asked, releasing Louise’s hand to reach for Brett’s now cold tea she never drank from earlier. She quietly shook her head and walked to the window where she parted the sheer curtains. Her fingers were still trembling, so she closed the coarse fabric tightly into the palm of her hand. “Brett, it’s going on three o’clock in the morning. He isn’t going to make it here tonight. You need some rest, and so do your parents.”
“Linda and I are fine, Chad,” Jim Lambert replied firmly, though his eyes went directly to Brett. She gave him a small smile over her shoulder before training her gaze back on the patrol cars outside. Why did all of them insist on staying outdoors in the cold? Granted, she could visually see the condensation rising from the exhaust pipe of the various vehicles, but they would still be more comfortable inside. “If Brett wants to wait for this…agency…to arrive, we will. Then we can all get some sleep once things settle down.”
Brett’s gaze warily crossed over Mr. Koett’s wrecked vehicle that was still buried in her yard. The two local tow truck companies had been busy all day removing cars and trucks from ditches and accident scenes that had all but been ignored during the storm. Rudy, from Rudy’s Garage, told her that Mr. Koett’s car was on the schedule for first thing in the morning once the crime scene folks sent the release. Until then, the wreckage was nothing but a reminder of Heidi and Martin’s deaths.
“Honey, can I get you more tea?” Brett finally let the curtain drop back in place. Her mother was always fretting this way and that, and now was no exception to the rule. She gathered the other cups, most of them empty, frowning at the sight of her daughter’s full one in Chad’s hands. “Or I can warm yours up, if you like?”
Brett shook her head and wrapped her arms around her waist. She hadn’t even wanted her parents to be here, considering they were only putting themselves in danger by showing themselves as available targets. The same could be said for Chad and Louise, both of whom still appeared shaken by the news of Martin’s death after he was taken into custody.
Martin was dead, just like Heidi.
Brett hadn’t been able to tell her parents or friends of the significance of what Sheriff Whitney had shared with her earlier. All she had told them was that Heidi might not have been the intended victim, and that Martin’s death had been a result of that specific oversight. She’d been overwhelmed with questions and demands until she’d broken down into tears, but she’d made a promise to Coen not to say a word about Shepherd Moss.
She wouldn’t break her promise to a man who valued honesty above all else. A man she needed to have back here in her arms before she would ever feel safe again.
The beams of headlights drifted across her ceiling, indicating that someone was pulling into her driveway. She lowered her arms and quickly made her way back to the window so she could see who’d arrived, hoping it was Coen instead of another police car.
The snowdrifts were quite high, especially the ones surrounding her yard where Coen had purposefully shifted the snow in order to clear her driveway. The lone streetlight glinted off the endless white blanket and shone on the black sedan, but she couldn’t identify the men opening all the doors at once. Panic began to build that these individuals were not part of Coen’s agency when she finally caught sight of him striding up the sidewalk that he helped to clear.
She met him at the door and was in his arms before anyone in the room could ask who had arrived.
“I’ve got you, sugar,” Coen murmured against her hair. The material of his jacket was cold, but the warmth of his body more than made up for the chill. She rested her cheek against his chest and didn’t question the reason why the fear she’d been experiencing finally evaporated. “You’re safe, and I’m going to keep you that way.”
A rather loud, deliberate cough echoed throughout the living room.
Brett slowly untangled herself from his reassuring embrace. She hadn’t given a second thought about her parents’ reaction to Coen’s sudden presence or their intimate embrace. Her father, mother, Chad, and Louise all stood in a line looking somewhat shocked at the two of them. She tried not to take offense to their reaction, though she supposed it was to be expected. It wasn’t an everyday occurrence that she flung her body at someone they would consider a stranger. Unfortunately, it wasn’t something she’d even given a second thought.
“Coen, you’ve met Chad and Louise.” Brett stepped back and gestured toward her mom and dad. “These are my parents, Jim and Linda Lambert.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you both, though not under these horrible circumstances.” The front door was still hanging open. It almost appeared as if Coen had waited to ensure someone else was guarding the entrance. He delayed until two men joined him in the entryway before he took a step forward and offered his hand. “My name is Coen Flynn, and I work for a private firm named SSI—Safeguard Securities and Investigations.”
“How exactly do you know my daughter?” Jim asked, holding tightly onto Coen’s hand a little longer than necessary. Brett gently set her palm on Coen’s forearm to let her dad know he didn’t need to act like an overbearing father. “Brett, I’m asking the man a question.”
“Brettany didn’t explain the situation in detail? I expected she would.”
“You asked me not to,” Brett responded softly, unable to keep her gaze off the two other men whose presence was rather overwhelming. “Please, come in. I’m—”
“You heard me.” The voice carrying through the doorway was deep and raspy, almost to the point it sounded somewhat strangled. “Do it, or I’ll find someone else who will.”
A large, intimidating man appeared in the entryway. It wouldn’t have surprised Brett had her parents and friends taken a step backward in reaction to the arrival of such an individual who would no doubt be more comfortable in a biker bar than he was here in the middle of the mountains. On second thought, give him an axe with a flannel shirt and he might fit in quite well.
There was a two-inch scar on his jawline that she expected was more prominent in this cold weather than down in Florida. His long hair tied at the base of his neck and the black tattoo covering his neck were intimidating, but Coen obviously trusted him. That was good enough for her.
“Brettany, I’d like you to meet Sawyer Madison, Keane Sanderson, and Townes Calvert—the owner of SSI.” Coen shifted as the other introductions were made as well, though he was careful not to step on her hardwood floor with his wet-soled boots. She would have found that endearing had her apprehension not been off the charts. She didn’t care about the minor facets of maintaining a clean house right now. Being the target of a serial killer certainly put things in perspective for her. “Um, Mr. and Mrs. Lambert, please have a seat. There are some things that should be clarified to ease your concerns. Chad and Louise, you’re going to want to hear this, as well.”
Brett shook hands with the three men, taking note that although Mr. Calvert contained an underlying threatening demeanor, the others weren’t to be taken lightly as they were dominating figures all by themselves. The all-encompassing fear that had taken ahold of her earlier didn’t seem so overwhelming now. She ushered them into the living room, even after Coen had asked them to take their boots off. She reassured him that whatever mess was left by their passage could be cleaned up later.
“Ms. Lambert, I’m truly sorry you’re having to deal with this situation.” Mr. Calvert’s grey eyes dropped to where she’d taken ahold of Coen’s hand. She let her fingers slip out from under his, realizing that this man might take it that Coen had acted inappropriately. That hadn’t been her intention, and she crossed her arms over one another in order to chase away the invading cold that took hold once more without Coen’s warmth. “There’s been some developments that you, your family, and friends should be aware of.”
“Something else has happened?” Brett switched her gaze from Mr. Calvert to Coen, searching for any sign that her situation was about to get worse. She fought the urge to reach for his hand once more.
“Please, take a seat.”
Brett’s heart squeezed when her parents exchanged concerned glances with one another. Was Mr. Calvert going to go into detail about Shepherd Moss? She’d purposefully withheld information from her parents and friends because she hadn’t wanted them to be any more worried than they already were.
“It’s okay.” Coen spoke low enough so that no one could hear him as everyone situated themselves to hear what Mr. Calvert had to say. His warm hand on her back centered her for her parents’ reaction to hearing their daughter was now the target of a serial killer. “Sheriff Whitney has already been given instructions on how to handle this situation in the press.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Lambert, my agency is aiding the FBI and the U.S. Marshals Service in the search for an escaped serial killer by the name of Shepherd Moss. I’m sure you’re aware of Shailyn Doyle’s connection to him from the reports in the news, along with the fact that her subsequent survival led to his initial capture.” Mr. Calvert paused when Brett’s mother gasped and pressed her fingers to her trembling lips. “Moss has targeted some of Ms. Doyle’s old friends and acquaintances, which was the reason one of my agents was assigned to watch over your daughter more than a month ago.”
“So you’re saying Martin didn’t kill Heidi?” Louise asked as she leaned into Chad for comfort. She wiped away the tears that had formed upon that discovery, her concerned gaze landing on Brett. “Did this Shepherd Moss mistake Heidi for Brett?”
“No, we don’t think so.”
Chad and Louise appeared to be hanging on every word Mr. Calvert said, but Brett was more interested in Coen’s reaction. What did Mr. Calvert mean that she wasn’t the intended target? Coen stroked her back in reassurance.
“I don’t understand,” Brett said, having to clear her voice a couple of times in order to be heard. “I thought…”
“Heidi Connolly wasn’t killed by Shepherd Moss. At least, we don’t think so.” Mr. Calvert shifted so that his stance was shoulder width apart, appearing confident in his theory. “We believe that someone, and it could very well have been Martin Eyles, murdered Heidi Connolly in cold blood.”
“But Martin was killed last night,” Chad said somewhat skeptically before asking what everyone else was thinking. “Wouldn’t that mean someone else killed both of them?”
“Not necessarily,” Coen responded, drawing all eyes toward him. Brett shifted uncomfortably when that meant she, too, was under scrutiny of his teammates. It was obvious Coen hadn’t mentioned that they’d been intimate. Then again, she hadn’t told anyone either. Unfortunately, that meant their reunion in the doorway was under careful examination by all parties present. It hadn’t been her intention to cause him any trouble with his boss. “Shepherd Moss leaves a signature mark on his victims. He carves the dates of his victims’ deaths into their skin, specifically across their abdomen. The same was done with Eyles, though the date wasn’t technically complete.”
“And the marks were hesitant…unsure…unlike Moss’ practiced handiwork,” Mr. Calvert continued before taking his phone out of the case attached to his belt. His black leather jacket fell back into place, but not before revealing his shoulder holster and weapon. It was the same with the others, telling Brett that they’d come prepared for anything. “The lack of torture and the indecisive nature of the mutilation of the deceased signified by whoever tried to mimic Moss’ M.O. tells us that we’re dealing with an amateur. It’s quite possible he or she is an acolyte of Moss’. We’re here to rule out that the person responsible wasn’t doing so on Moss’ direct orders.”
“Why else would someone go to those lengths, though?” Brett asked what everyone else was wondering. She wasn’t certain this new information meant she was safe from Moss or that she was still the intended victim. “It sounds like Shepherd Moss is involved in some way.”
“That’s what we’re here to determine,” Mr. Calvert advised, still not answering her clear enough to give her peace of mind. “Until we do, Coen will remain here inside the house with you while the local police maintain their cordon around the perimeter. Your parents will also have a police presence with twenty-four seven protection until Moss, or whoever is behind this, is caught and neutralized. The rest of my team and I will take the reins of the investigation and see if we can’t shake something loose that will have your life returning to normal sooner rather than later.”
*
Nothing was going as he’d planned.
He’d had to improvise, but even that had failed.
He had no choice but to finish what he started…removing Brettany Lambert was the only acceptable result for the scenario he’d set into play.