It’s almost eight in the evening when we arrive, the darkening sky lit by street lamps. I brace myself for another verbal attack from Eli but when we get out of the cars, he ignores me. I, in turn, ignore Jude.
I can feel Jude’s eyes on me, but I need to create some distance between us or I’ll never be able to focus. I’m a detective. They may have taken my badge, but I still have all the training and it’s my job to get justice for the person whose life was so brutally ended.
River parked up in a military housing neighborhood and we follow him across the road towards a kids’ playground. Blue and red police lights flash off the shiny surface of a plastic slide and what looks like a pirate ship.God, I hopethe body wasn’t found by a kid.
My steps falter for a moment and Oz comes up beside me. I don’t know where I stand with him yet. He seems to be the quietest of the group and he doesn’t say anything even now, just waits beside me and falls into step when I start walking again. “So, are you Team Jude or Team Eli?” I ask.
Oz shrugs, his brown leather jacket rustling in the quiet night. “Consider me neutral ground for now.”
I tap my fingers against my leg and nod. I can work with neutral.
“I do have one question though.”
I glance across at him. “Shoot.”
“Why didn’t you ever go to the police?”
It sounds like a simple question but it’s really not, and as a profiler he must know that. I wonder whether he wants an answer or whether he’s just trying to get a read on me.
A Uniform walks past us and I drop my voice before replying. “Growing up, my father had me convinced I was just as guilty as him. When it came down to it, I was too scared to go to the police.” I look up to gauge his reaction, but his face is blank, so Icarry on. “A month after I faked my death, I made an anonymous call to 911 and gave them his name. I told them I used to walk my dog past his house, and I’d seen him with one of the victims. You were part of the team that raided the place, so you know he was long gone by then.”
Oz sighs and runs a hand through his russet hair. “We never managed to trace who made that call.”
I chew the inside of my cheek, debating how much to tell him but they already knew of Carmen’s existence, even if they didn’t know her name. “That’s why I waited. I know I should have called sooner but I needed to make sure I wouldn’t be found. When I was doing my police training, I realized the chances of me being prosecuted for what I’d done, what Maxwell made me do as a child, were practically non-existent. But by then I’d broken about a dozen other laws. I always planned on stopping him. I was just going to do it as Freya Danvers, not Angelica Maxwell.” It’s the truth but not all of it and I wonder whether Oz can tell.
He nods but, unlike with most people, I can’t read what he’s thinking. We’ve reached the edge of the play area now, where the grass turns to wood chips. I stop before going any further and turn to face Oz. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes but believe me when I say finding my father has always been my top priority.”
Oz’s gaze is steady but when he looks over my head to the park behind me his throat bobs. “Looks like he might have found you first.”
A chill runs through me at his words. I already know I don’t want to see what Oz is looking at but like too often in my life when it comes to dead bodies, I don’t have a choice.
I breathe in the cool night air to steady myself, but the tang of iron makes me feel sick. If things were different, I would have run far away from all this after I faked my death. Gone to some small town and opened a bakery, lived in a cottage by the sea. It’sa dream that shatters into pieces every time I remember why I didn’t do just that. Why I couldn’t. I shake free the broken image from my mind and turn to face reality.
The kill is different this time. My father always left the bodies where they’d be found but he never displayed them quite like this.
Half the fun, Angelica, is what comes after.
The woman is sitting on the swing, her arms drawn up and tied around the metal chains. Her head is tilted back like she’s praying to the sky but the deep gash across her throat means it’s far too late for prayers. There’s no blood on the wood chips so she can’t have been killed here. She’s completely naked and as my body carries me closer, my eyes drop to her chest.
I’m vaguely aware of Oz following me. Of River, Jude and Eli watching as I approach. I pay them no attention. I can’t. The only thing I can focus on is what’s carved into the woman’s chest. There’s just one cross this time. A large X cutting through the letters of my name. Not Angelica. Freya. Oz was right. My father’s found me.
I turn away from the body and leg it to the trash can at the edge of the playground. I grasp the cool metal edges and throw up the contents of my stomach. I stay there for a moment with my head in the trash can, taking shallow breaths as sweat chills my burning skin. When I’m relatively sure I won’t hurl again I straighten up to find Eli has wandered over. I freeze.
“Would’ve thought you’d be used to seeing dead bodies by now,” he quips. He could be referencing the fact that I’m a detective, but I know he’s not. He’s talking about the twenty-four bodies I’d seen before I even left school.
I glare at him. “Screw you, Elijah. Next time I’ll throw up in your precious cowboy hat.”
He scowls as I stalk past him and reaches up to take his Stetson off, cradling it to his chest.
I hide my smirk and stomp away, letting him think I’ve gone off in a huff. When I’m sure no-one is looking, I slide the folded piece of paper I’d found, wedged under the rim of the trash can, into my pocket. I had needed to throw up, but I’d also needed to check the trash can without anyone noticing. It wasn’t a coincidence this body was left in a park. That was where we always left our notes.
CHAPTER TWENTY
River
I TAKE IN the scene around me. The lab techs are marking up all the evidence. There’s about twenty people on the scene and I cast my eyes over each and every one of them, double checking everyone here is who they say they are. I’m being overly anal about it all, but I’ve been on high alert ever since Freya managed to slip into my last crime scene. Twice.
My brain has a virtual map of the area, cataloguing where everyone is and what they’re doing.
