Chapter 14

Nothing like beingabrupt with your new lover.

"I've got to go." My naked ass rolled out of his bed.

"Duty calls?" He lay against the pillows, muscled upper body tempting me to ditch duty for fun.

I wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed and lick those hard pecs. Instead, I turned away and left the room, hunting for my clothes. "Yeah. Our killer struck again."

"Again?" He didn't hide his shock as he followed me out of the bedroom.

"Apparently. Which is why I need to leave. Sorry. I don't mean to fuck and run." I didn't mention the fact my initial plan had me leaving early so as to not freak out Hannah. At the same time, had I not gotten the call, I might have extended my stay.

"Don't apologize for doing your job. Someone's got to catch that bastard. But promise you'll be careful," he growled as he stalked for me, so many inches of delicious man.

"Where's the fun in that?" I quipped, dragging on my pants as he pulled me close for a kiss. A nice kiss that had me tingling despite my many orgasms. "While I'd love a round three, I gotta go. I'll give you a holler tomorrow."

I left somewhat bemused, a little giddy, sated, and hungry all at once. You'd think the multiple orgasms would have solved that, but no. I still wanted Aidan.

Despite knowing Belle waited downstairs, I hit my place to change and advise Hannah of the change in plans.

"How was the movie?" Asked with finger quotes.

I blushed.

Me.

Shocking to anyone who knew me. I got over it and grinned. "Most excellent movie. So good we watched it twice."

"I'm impressed. Kind of jealous too. Maybe I should see if the handyman for my building is hot."

"Quickest way to meet him is to break something," I joked as I stomped to my room.

"Why don't you look like a woman who had fun, then?" she called out as changed into something a little more appropriate for field work.

"I did until I got a call that the wolf struck again. I'm heading out right now to the crime scene with Belle."

I skipped down the stairs and waved to Gerome as I passed. Got a grunt in return. I exited to find Belle and her deathtrap waiting.

The passenger seat remained as snug as I recalled.

Belle offered a wan smile. "Sorry to drag you out of bed. As on duty agent, the police contacted me claiming we had a Grimm crime scene, however, soon as I heard what they found, I knew it was linked to your case."

"Where did the killer strike this time?"

"Regent Park."

"The killer returned?" I'll admit to being shocked.

"Yes, and while the woman died, we finally got a victim who fought. Prelim report states she has traces of blood on her fingers."

"About time," I muttered. I'd been bothered by the fact we'd not seen any signs of violence in the other cases. I'd like to think that if confronted, even by a wolfman, I'd fight with my dying breath.

"Who found the body?" I half expected to hear Walden's name.

"Crime podcaster called Barry Grimes. He was doing a live broadcast about the Red Cap Murders when he stumbled across the body in the clearing where we found the first group of bodies. It's possible he interrupted the killer before he could finish."

"Holy shit. Have we confiscated his footage?"

"Yup. Cinder's in the office studying it to see if he happened to catch any vehicles parked or even perhaps the killer fleeing the scene."

The park loomed, especially ominous with all the flashing lights. I didn't really want to enter the gloomy forest but tramped along with Belle and Patterson, who'd spotted us the moment we arrived.

The clearing had bright portable lights set up to illuminate the area. The hut that once stood there was barely a mound under the moss that had crept over its remains. Quicker than normal but not so unexpected given the entire forest shouldn't exist.

The body lay sprawled, face down, blonde hair fanning the ground. The victim wore a red hooded sweatshirt and plaid cotton bottoms.

The sight of it had me muttering, "What happened to not wearing red when going out?"

Patterson cleared his throat. "She wasn't technically out. Appears she popped down to the basement of her building to do a load of laundry. Given the clothes strewn all over, the killer nabbed her there."

"And no one heard anything?"

"We're still canvassing the apartments, but so far, no one heard or saw a thing," Patterson noted.

I walked around the body and frowned. Why was she here? The killer had kept the latest victims near or at the location where they'd found them, yet they'd brought this one to Regent Park. Did it mean something?

I crouched and noticed the bagged hand. Blood stained the fingertips. "She fought," a low murmur that had Belle huffing, "Meaning the killer will have scratches."

"Lots of people have scratches, but here's to hoping we'll get a hit on the DNA. Who was she?" I asked no one in particular.

"One Jessica Lawson. Lives in that apartment with her grandmother."

"Someone checking on grandma?" I cast a sharp look over my shoulder at Patterson.

"The grandmother is fine. She left earlier that day to visit her sister. We've also done a wellness check on the boyfriend."

"He have any scratches on him?" I knew it was a long-shot, but figured I could ask.

"Negative. But the team did report back a description of him. The man's a park ranger. A big beefy guy with a full beard wearing flannel pajamas. All he was missing was an axe over his shoulder."

This was more than someone simply caught wearing red. "Meaning the killer specifically targeted her, trying to force her into a macabre version of the curse."

"Seems like," Patterson replied with a shrug. "This perp is getting more brazen. Breaking into homes. Killing daily. We have to stop him."

"I'm aware, trust me," I growled.

Belle dropped to her haunches by my side. "What's the end game?"

"My death?" I wasn't being sarcastic.

"No offense, but he could kill you anytime."

"The Knights—"

"Are only human and fallible. Let's be honest, if he truly wanted you dead, I don't think we'd be talking." Belle shook her head.

"Then how do you explain the red hair at the other scenes and the note with the gift basket?"

"Oh, I didn't say he wasn't taunting you. Just that I don't know if murdering you is his goal. This feels off somehow. Like there's a reason behind it."

"He's a psychopath. I don't think he needs a reason," my dry retort.

"Don't get me wrong. I think he's enjoying himself. The attention that sprang up after we found his stash of bodies is what I think led to him getting fancier."

"Fancy?" I made a moue of disgust at the word.

"Wrong word. I think he liked the reaction he got. Probably made him feel important. But at the same time, maybe he got offended by the headlines."

"What headlines?" I rose as I asked.

"The ones that called him a butcher, a psycho serial killer. It's as if he got offended and hence why he began posing the next victims. And look, it worked. Now the headlines are calling him the Big Bad Wolf, the Red Cap Killer."

"Not exactly titles to aspire to."

"Because you're a normal person. He's not," she emphasized. "I'll bet he's got a huge ego and couldn't handle the way they denigrated his kills."

"Maybe, but how does that help us find him?"

"It doesn't. But at the same time, if he's looking for infamy, he won't stop and he'll likely get bolder and more creative."

"I wonder why he brought her here and didn't leave her in the laundry room. Or wait to kill her until she was back to her apartment, and pose her there."

"Maybe he felt nostalgic? Could be he planned to bring her here and pose her, then go back for grandma and the boyfriend, too, only the podcaster interrupted."

"What's so special about this place, though?" Before it became Regent Park, according to my mom, it used to be a farmer's field, full of cornstalks that, in the fall, the farmer mowed into a huge maze for people to run through. My mom was one of them. It was how she met my sperm donor. According to her, I was most likely conceived somewhere around here.

Blech.

The next hour I spent walking the crime scene, not finding anything. The first break in our case came when they moved the body into a bag to send to the morgue. In the spot where she lay, I spotted something.

"What's that?" I pointed to the black business card that barely showed against the dark ground.

A tech with gloves picked it up gingerly and placed it into a plastic bag before handing it over. Belle leaned over my shoulder as we read the card.

Looking for some help around the house? Plumbing, electrical, painting, and more. Call Dan the Handyman for a quote.

"This is it. We've got him!" I crowed.

"You can't be sure," Belle chided.

"The one thing those home invasions had in common was they were getting work done. Want to bet this is the fellow they hired?" I waved the card. "It would explain how he got in. Why he could get close enough to attack without them getting freaked and lashing out."

"Don't get too ahead of yourself. Let me send a pic to Cinder so she can trace who owns that number. Once we get a location, we'll head over to have a chat."

Would Belle look the other way if my fist did some of the talking with Dan? Actually, she might start hitting before I could.

"There's nothing left to do here. We should head to the bureau so we can help Cinder," I suggested.

"Only if we're grabbing coffee on the way."

"And donuts," I chirped. I needed the sugar rush since there would be no sleep tonight. Not when we were finally closing in on the killer.

I could feel it.

As we drove away from the park, Cinder rang, and Belle's car answered, playing her call through the speakers.

"The card is a match!" she crowed before even saying hello. "Dan the Handyman is the guy who was doing work for those families."

"I knew it!" I crowed. "Do we have a name and address?"

"The number is registered as a business with a postal box, but it shouldn't be long before I track down who owns it. Thank goodness the databases are cooperating again." Cinder hummed, and I could hear her fingers clacking as she typed. "Jumping mice, you won't believe this. The partial plate Walden gave us? Guess who has a truck registered to that business with the license plate CQCFMJ?"

"Score!" Belle slapped the steering wheel. "About time. We've got him now."

While she celebrated and Cinder kept poking, I mulled the plate letters over. I didn't have my note on me, but it seemed like the last three were the ones Walden had given me.

"Okay, I've got a name," Cinder announced. "Dan the Handyman is owned and operated by one Aidan Malcolm, living at—"

"I know where he lives." My stomach sank. All of me deflated as I realized the man I'd been falling for, the guy I just fucked, was a serial-killing wolf.

"What do you mean you know where he lives?" Belle glanced at me for a second, taking her eyes from the road.

"He's my building's maintenance guy." And then because I wouldn't be able to hide it… "And he also happens to be the guy I hooked up with earlier tonight."

Dead silence.

Cinder broke it first. "Oh, Blanche. I'm so sorry."

She was sorry? I'd fucked the serial killer—I'd fucked the wolf from my cursed story. Even worse, I enjoyed it!

Belle increased the speed in her little vroom-vroom, making that one hamster under the hood work hard to get us going. "I am going to bash his face in. If anyone asks, though, he tripped."

"I'm going to see if I can find out what food he hates and make sure they serve it to him in his cell!" Cinder huffed.

Sometimes it was nice having friends.

Despite almost being to the bureau, we rerouted for my apartment building. Much as I wanted—and didn't want—to confront Aidan, the Grimm Knights moved in fast for the arrest as soon as Cinder advised them of the identity of the killer.

Would Aidan give himself up or die rather than be captured? I couldn't have said in that moment which I preferred. I did know I hated him for lying, for being a psycho, but I also ached because I'd been falling for him.How could I not have seen the signs?

"You okay?" Belle asked softly.

"Not really." The honest truth. "He seemed like a decent guy. I mean ornery as fuck, but then again so am I. I would have never suspected." I shook my head.

"I'm sorry."

"So am I." My whispered response.

Before we turned onto my street, we got a text from Hannah.

Wolf in custody. Taking him to the bureau for processing.

I hated the relief that flooded me knowing he'd not been killed.

"Should we head to the office?" Belle queried, hearing the news.

I shook my head. "I want to be there when they search his apartment." See what kind of morbid evidence he'd held on to. What trophies he hid. As we pulled up, I was just in time to see Aiden emerging, hands cuffed in silver, ankles shackled, too, forcing him to shuffle.

Despite the flashing lights and Knights surrounding him, he still knew I'd arrived and turned his head as I exited the car.

His gaze caught mine, and my heart hurt. I also felt stupid. Stupid for not realizing the wolf had been seducing me the entire time as part of his sick game.

I turned away from Aidan and marched for the building, only to veer and head behind it to the parking lot.

"Where are you going?" Belle huffed as she trotted to keep up.

"To see something," I muttered.

His truck was parked in the back, reversed in so I couldn't see the license plate. I skirted it and stared at the license plate. CQCFMJ. Which in Call of Duty stood for Close Quarters Combat and Full Metal Jacket. Above his license plate, a sticker featuring the skull Walden had mentioned, which also happened to be the COD emblem.

Fuck me! Under my nose this entire time. He must have been laughing at me. Murdering people then weaseling his way into my affection. How could I have been so dense?

Belle put a hand on me. "You had no way of knowing."

"Didn't I?" I swept a hand to the truck and its plate. "I should have seen it. I'm supposed to be a fucking investigator."

"You don't expect that kind of thing from people close to you."

"We weren't close." We had only just started the process of getting to know each other. I knew he hated mushrooms on his pizza. Loved to eat chips while gaming. Hummed when he worshipped my body.

I closed my eyes and bent my head.

"You don't have to do this." Belle's soft suggestion had me snapping to attention.

"I'm fine. Let's go see what they found inside."

Hannah stood outside his apartment door when I reached it, as grim-faced as me.

She pursed her lips. "Sorry, Hood. My psycho radar must be on the fritz. I never once suspected him."

"Says the woman who had him at knife point?"

"But didn't gut him because, despite him being inside your place, he didn't give off a bad vibe."

"Yeah, well, guess he fooled us all." I moved from Hannah and glanced through his apartment, careful to not touch anything. Not that it mattered. The forensics team would find traces of me. On the wall. In his bed… Even in his bathroom from when I used it to shower.

What I didn't see? Any signs he'd killed anyone. I wore gloves to open the closet door for a peek. No bloody clothes or shoes. But then again, he'd have been the wolf when he killed. A sluice of his fur and the evidence would be washed away. Even if he"d dirtied his garments, he most likely ditched them, and good luck finding those. A guy doing construction probably hit the dump often with materials to get rid of.

Hannah poked her head in the bedroom, where I stared at the unkempt bed. The bed we'd lain in together.

"You sure you should be here?" she asked.

"I'm fine," my terse reply.

"You don't look fine."

I turned and pasted a fake bright smile on my face. "Couldn't be better. I mean look at the bright side. I foiled the curse. The wolf didn't get me."

And neither did the huntsman.