14. Methodical Precision

14 METHODICAL PRECISION

Keaton

“There’s no fucking way this can be right.” Shoving away from Waverly’s desk where I’d been focused on the computer screen, I tore my fingers through my hair, ripping at the ends.

“They ran it three times, Keaton,” Duncan voiced. He was stationed near the door; a tactical decision I now understood.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do with this information? A familial match? This is…I can’t even begin to process what this is.”

“Think back, Keaton. Are you positive your father never mentioned a half brother?” Waverly questioned.

The look I speared her with caused her to flinch, which in turn made my stomach sour with guilt. This wasn’t her fault; it wasn’t mine either, yet I was having a difficult time convincing myself of the fact. DNA tests didn’t lie and the one I’d been looking at moments ago showed, with unmistakable accuracy, the killer we’d been searching for these past few weeks was my uncle .

Fuck!

“I’ll take that as a no,” she uttered.

Duncan strode across the room, coming to a stop directly in front of me. The sympathetic look on his face—on both their faces—was almost too much to take.

“Get outta your head, kid,” he grumbled. “We need you at your best, not wallowing in self-pity.”

“Kinda hard to do when the ‘poor Keaton’ vibes are rolling off the two of you faster than a tidal wave in a storm.”

Placing a hand on my shoulder, he squeezed a little harder than necessary. There was fire in his eyes when he spoke next. “Don’t twist our concern into something it’s not. We’d show the same amount of compassion for any member of this team. But make no mistake, we’re fucking livid this is happening to you of all people.”

I blinked once, then did it again as I staggered back out of his grip. The overwhelming urge to take a swing at something was clawing at me from the inside and the last thing I wanted to do was strike out against my mentor. Although he’d take one for the team, the risk of breaking my hand on his jaw was too great.

“Speaking of the team, how do you want to handle bringing them up to speed?” Waverly rounded her desk, resting her butt against the corner; arms crossed over her chest.

When I stormed out of her office, I did it without a plan. The only thing I knew for certain was my team…my best friends would have my back. My steps faltered slightly when my thoughts shifted to Henley and how she would react to the news. Knowing my Little Bird, with her huge heart, she’d wrap me in her arms and assure me everything would be all right.

The problem was, I didn’t know if it would be .

“What the hell?” Koen leapt to his feet, his left hand immediately going to the service weapon on his hip. Not that I blamed him for overreacting, since I’m sure I looked half-crazed tearing into the room.

“Stand down, Agent Banks,” Waverly boomed; her high heels clicking in rapid succession on the floor as she tried to keep up with me.

“DNA results are back,” I announced without preamble.

“Okay. Still doesn’t explain why you charged in here like a bull going after a red flag,” Lanie quipped.

“I’ve got an uncle,” I blurted.

“Shit,” Duncan spat. “That’s one way to burst the bubble.”

“Congratulations, I guess?” Noah said.

“My uncle is our killer.”

Silence reigned supreme. Four federal agents—including Nelson, since he technically was one—and Sammy stood with their mouths agape. Eventually the quiet was broken by a chorus of “fucks.” Then questions were being hurled faster than I could keep up with.

At Waverly’s suggestion, we gathered in the interrogation room where I explained how the lab ran the blood sample they collected from underneath the fingernails of our latest victim through multiple databases, resulting in a match to our suspect as well as a partial familial match to my father.

“Why would your dad keep his brother a secret?”

“That’s the six-million-dollar question only a dead man can answer, Noah.”

“Hold on,” Lanie rapped her knuckles against the wooden table. “If this guy is in the system, then we have a name. ”

“We do.” I nodded, clearing my throat. “Declan Marches.”

“Never heard of him.” She shrugged.

I was poised to respond when my cell phone chimed with a text alert. Normally, I would have ignored it, however with the storm raging outside, I’d asked Henley to message when she got home. With all the craziness between the attack on Jennifer Collins––in which miraculously, she’d only suffered a non-life-threatening stab wound to the gut––and the discovery of my long-lost, murderous relative, I hadn’t realized how late it had gotten.

Standing, I moved away from the discussion going on and a smile lit my face when I noticed she’d sent a video instead of typing out a message. Swiping my finger up the screen, I allowed the facial recognition software to unlock the device, then pushed the triangular button in the center to play.

The video came into focus with Jade, front and center, her wrists zip-tied to the arms of the chair she was seated in, a gag in her mouth, with tears streaming down her face.

“Fuck!” I yelled, garnering a flurry of activity to happen around me. Metal chairs scraped against the floor as everyone crowded my back, but I was zeroed in on the screen and the robotic-sounding voice which sounded through the speaker.

“You thought I was playing with you before, Calvin. Well, you better hurry before the real games begin.”

Fear, like I’d never known, slammed into me as the camera panned to the right and I saw her. My Henley. My beautiful girl, lying seemingly unconscious on a disgusting bed wearing only her bra and panties. There was no way to stop my reaction even if I’d wanted to. My fist drove elbow deep into the nearest wall. I pulled back to strike again when arms the size of small tree trunks wrapped around my chest.

“Enough, Keaton,” Duncan growled in my ear.

“She is not a motherfucking game. She’s my whole life.”

“We know, K, and we’re going to find them.” Lanie got in my face.

“Fuck, yes we are,” Koen agreed.

“Let me go, Duncan.”

“You straight?”

“Not even a little,” I seethed. “But I’m going to fake like I am until we find this bastard so I can gut him with my bare hands.”

He loosened his hold enough to spin me around. Gripping the back of my neck, he drew me in until our foreheads touched. “I’ll help you hide his body if it comes to that.”

“I’m pretty sure we shouldn’t be talking about hiding bodies in front of our RAC,” Noah broke in. “Just know, I’ve got a shovel and five acres I can lend to the cause.”

“Jesus Christ,” Lanie snapped. “We are fucking FBI agents, not vigilantes. This fucker has a record, right? Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been in the system.”

“On it.” Nelson ran out of the room, presumably to access his computer.

“I’ll watch the video again,” Waverly picked up the phone from the table. “Maybe there’s something in the background which can point us to where he’s taken them.”

Methodical precision; it was the way we worked every single case in the past, only this time the stakes were high. Disastrously so. My love for Henley was the only thing keeping me grounded, keeping me from tearing the world apart looking for her. It wouldn’t do any good and would only waste what precious time we had. Every second of knowing she was in the hands of a serial killer had the blood in my veins boiling like a volcano ready to erupt.

“Holy shit,” Waverly exclaimed. “Her earrings, Keaton. She’s wearing the earrings I gave you.”

“Nelson!” I bellowed. Fast as lightning, he ran back into the room, laptop in hand.

“I’ve got a picture,” he panted, completely out of breath from the short jaunt.

“Fuck the picture. I need you to activate the tracker in Henley’s earrings.”

“Shit. Yeah, I can do that, but you need to take a look at this first.” He shoved the computer into my hands. Looking down at the screen, I saw the booking photo of a man around twenty years of age. There was something familiar about his face, though for the life of me, I couldn’t place him.

“Keaton,” Noah called out. “What was the name of the man who visited your dad in prison?”

“Now’s not the time, Noah.”

“Now’s the perfect damn time. I think I know who we’re looking for.”

His expression morphed into calculated rage when I said, “Creed Schalman.”

“Son of a bitch. It’s an anagram.”

“What’s an anagram, Noah? You aren’t making any sense,” Koen crossed the space between them.

“Creed Schalman. Declan Marches. They have the exact same letters, just rearranged.” He quickly scribbled the names on the whiteboard nailed to the wall.

“Still not following,” Lanie sputtered, plopping down into a nearby chair.

Suddenly, the photo on Nelson’s computer came into focus. The eyes, the slope of his nose. Noah spoke the name as the image became clear.

“Camden Charles.”

“Motherfucker!” I roared.

“I’ve got a location,” Nelson interrupted. “The tracker is pinging somewhere inside Camp Creek State Park. I can’t get you an exact location this far away.”

“I don’t need one.” Turning, I saw the moment Duncan realized where they were.

“Your dad’s hunting cabin.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s a little over two hours away by car.” He drummed his finger against his thigh.

“Get me something faster.”

Henley

My stomach rolled. I didn’t feel well. No, that was an understatement. My head was pounding and I swear there were a thousand cotton balls shoved in my mouth, it was so dry. Maybe I was getting the flu or something because I didn’t remember drinking excessively. With my diabetes, I avoided being drunk like the plague. Alcohol turned into sugar, and sugar was a big ole no-no.

Prying my eyes open, I blinked several times in rapid succession to clear out the cobwebs obstructing my vision. As the blurriness began to fade, I turned my head to the side and froze. Where the hell was I? Memories flooded my already aching brain. The storm. Jade pulling the car over to help. Camden, the bastard.

Oh God.

“Jade.” I wrenched up, the sudden movement causing the room to spin while my lunch threatened to reappear. Ignoring the dizziness and nausea swirling in my belly, I searched the room, my breath catching in my throat when I saw her tied to a chair in the corner. She was still breathing––for now––although, I couldn’t tell if she had any injuries. It was then I realized I was on a bed, and both Jade and I were stripped down to our underwear.

“Good evening, Sleeping Beauty.” His gruff voice sent shivers of dread down my spine. “Sorry about the side effects. Tranq dope isn’t the greatest stuff out there, but it’s efficient, especially when mixed with water.”

God, I was so stupid. I’d played right into his hands without even knowing it. About an hour into our drive, I’d complained about being thirsty. At first, he told me to keep my mouth shut, then Jade told him I was a diabetic. He seemed to change his tune rather quickly, but instead of having her turn into a gas station like I’d been hoping for, he pulled a bottle of water from his bag and handed it to me.

“We’ve got plenty of time before Calvin figures out all the bread crumbs I’ve left for him.” My heart rate spiked as he moved toward the bed. I scrambled backward, slamming up against the headboard. “Relax, Henley. There’s no rushing the process. It’ll take days until you’re begging me to fuck you.”

“That’ll never happen,” I spat.

“Of course it will. Women are all cheating whores when given the right”—he tapped his chin with a finger—“inspiration. Now be a good girl and go sit in the chair next to your friend. Don’t make me use this before I’m ready.”

He held a Taser in his hand, pressing a button on the side. I didn’t waste a second thinking about my decision as it crackled to life. I flew off the bed, running on bare feet across the room to my best friend’s side. Once he had me secured to the chair in a similar fashion as Jade, he left the room, flipping the light off on his way out, plunging us into complete darkness.

“Jade,” I called out for her, my voice a harsh whisper in the desolate air.

“Mmm,” she hummed.

“Jade. You need to wake up.”

“Why are you yelling?”

I blew out a breath. “It’s the drugs. It’ll get better soon.”

“Shit, so that wasn’t a bad dream then?”

“Nope, and it gets worse.”

“How the hell could it get any worse?” She shifted in her seat. “We’re tied up in the middle of God-knows-where, with some bar-owning motherfucker who kidnapped us off the street when we tried to help his rain-soaked ass.”

“I think he might be the serial killer Keaton and the others have been searching for.”

“Well, hell. That’ll do it.”

Testing the strength of my bindings, they dug farther into my wrists with every twist and turn I made.

“We need to figure out how to get loose from these blasted things before he comes back. Do you have any leeway with yours?”

She grunted in response, “Not even a little.”

“Keaton will find us. We just have to stay strong until he does,” I said out loud, more to reassure myself than anything else.

“Henley?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about being an editor.”

“It’s okay. I kept the fact I was homeless a secret, so I don’t have room to judge.”

“My parents were shitty human beings.” She sighed. “They liked to talk with their fists rather than use words. ”

From what little she’d said previously, I knew they were abusive, but having her confirm that her childhood was worse than my imagination had conjured was heartbreaking. No child should ever have to suffer at the hands of the people who were supposed to love them unconditionally. I swore when we got out of here, I was going to do everything in my power to find those pricks and make them pay.

“I’m sorry, Jade.”

“They didn’t touch Jett. I made sure of it.”

“You’re a great sister.”

The door flew open without warning, and the overhead light flickered to life, causing black spots to appear in my vision. Camden stood in the threshold holding a tray of some sort. Terror seized my veins, turning them to ice as I watched him edge closer.

“Dinnertime,” he announced. “Wouldn’t want you two thinking I’m a terrible host.”

“Why are you doing this?” I tried to hide the fact I was terrified, but the shaking of my voice was a dead giveaway.

“To you or to Calvin?” At Jade’s look of confusion, he amended. “That’s right, he goes by Keaton now.”

“Both, I guess?”

He sat the tray down on an old wooden dresser, then came back to stand in front of us. The backhand came out of nowhere. Jade screamed, struggling furiously in her seat, while I sat stunned with the left side of my face feeling like it was on fire.

“I’m in charge here.” Spittle flew from his mouth, coating my cheeks with the disgusting droplets as he yelled, “Shut up!” He turned to Jade, wrapping his hand around her throat, cutting off her cries and her oxygen supply.

“Please, stop,” I begged, yanking at the straps holding me down until my wrists were slippery with blood .

Jade fought against his hold, her face turning bright red. She kicked out, connecting with his shin which only made his grip tighten. He was going to kill her, I could see it in his cold, black eyes.

Suddenly it all stopped. Camden backed away, running his hand through his hair.

“Tricky little whores,” he tsked. “It’s not playtime yet.”

Reaching in his pocket, he withdrew a knife and flicked it open. Thinking this was it, I doubled my efforts to get free, pulling hard against the unforgiving hard plastic. Pain lanced up my arm as the edge of the restraint cut deeper into my flesh, but I wasn’t going down without a fight. Jade mirrored my determination with some of her own, twisting and turning in her seat.

“Knock it off. Both of you.” Camden’s booted feet slammed into each of our ankles in turn. “You’re not gonna make me kill you before I’m ready. If you want to know why you’re here, you’ll settle the fuck down and listen.”

Holding my bloodied wrist down, he slid the knife under the zip tie and sliced it off. “There. Now I don’t have to feed you like a child.” He repeated the process with Jade, then laid the knife on the tray before retrieving two sandwiches, holding them out to us.

Once we’d each taken a small bite, he began talking and we never took another.

“Keaton is my nephew.” He smiled when I nearly choked on the piece of bread in my mouth. “His old man, Simon, and I had the same cheating mother. Of course, we had no idea about each other until we were much older. Simon said we needed to keep our kinship a secret, which as it turned out, was the best idea he ever had.”

Camden went on to tell us—in great, sickening detail—how he and his half brother used to kidnap women from truck stops and bring them to the very cabin he was holding us in. They’d torture and rape them repeatedly before strangling them.

“It was Simon’s idea to cut off their ring finger as a trophy.” He chuckled. The sick bastard actually laughed about mutilating their victims. “Sort of a final ‘fuck you’ to his dead whore of a wife.”

He stood, snatching the uneaten sandwiches out of our hands, tossing them on the tray and pulling two new zip ties from his back pocket. “Storytime’s over.”

I brushed a loose piece of hair, which had fallen in my eyes, behind my ear and stilled when my fingers brushed over the emerald earring. Keaton. Tears flooded my eyes for a whole new reason.

We still had hope.