Chapter Six

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Ruby sipped her coffee and watched as the photo loaded onto the monitor over Owen's fireplace.

Someone on his team had worked darn fast to get the shot of the new crime scene since, according to the Austin cops, McKinney's body had only been found an hour earlier. McKinney's neighbor had been the one to call it in after McKinney had failed to show up for their usual morning workout at the gym.

That old adage of a picture being worth a thousand words was certainly true in this case.

Retired Detective McKinney was lying dead on his living room floor.

Like Howie, there was a pool of blood around him, and the angle of the picture was clear enough for her to see the blunt force trauma to his head that had almost certainly been the cause of death. Or else it'd greatly contributed to it by resulting in him bleeding out anyway.

Nothing else appeared to be disturbed in the room. Like at Howie's, there were no signs of a struggle, and Ruby couldn't see any defensive wounds on McKinney's arms that were sprawled out to the side.

Why wouldn't a cop have fought back?

That was the question of the moment, and no good answers came to mind. But there were some bad possibilities. Because all of those answers would point back to Brynn. McKinney hadn't fought because he would have been shocked to see the face of a woman he'd helped declare dead. Or he could have simply thought she wasn't a threat.

Not until it was too late.

McKinney wasn't a lightweight. He was well over six feet tall and weighed at least two hundred pounds. And even though he was retired and nearly sixty, he was still physically capable of fighting off an attacker. However, the killer had obviously managed to get close enough to bash him in the head.

Owen's phone dinged twice in quick succession, and he frowned when he looked at the first of two texts that he'd just gotten.

"The thugs from last night are out on bail," he relayed to her. "Marty says we should watch our six since they're still pissed."

That caused her to frown, too. Hell in a handbasket, she didn't want to deal with those three assholes again, not when Owen and she had something much more important on their plates.

Owen looked up at her after reading the next text. "The second text is from a member of my team, Declan Brodie. Hayes' brother. A neighbor spotted someone matching Brynn's description leaving McKinney's house around the time of his murder."

Ruby groaned. But then reminded herself this might not be Brynn. That mask could be playing into things again.

"The neighbor took a picture with her phone and gave it to the cops," Owen added.

He clicked something on his own phone and seconds later, the crime scene photo slid away, and a new one replaced it. A grainy image that had obviously been taken from a distance and then enlarged. Also, it had been snapped at night so there were only a meager light coming from McKinney's porch.

The person was wearing the dark hoodie and baggy clothes again, and the neighbor had managed to capture a fairly decent shot of the face. The light caught it just right so it was in full view.

Yeah, that was Brynn's face, all right.

"That slight shimmer isn't there the way it was in the first photo," Ruby remarked. "But we can maybe still see it once the image is enhanced. You want me to send it to my techs?"

Owen muttered a "thanks for the offer," but then he shook his head as he fired off replies to the two texts. "My team can handle it this time since you're doing the search for who might have purchased the mask." He paused a heartbeat. "How's that going, by the way?"

Ruby opened the tablet that she'd brought with her and looked at the latest results, something she'd been doing every five minutes or so. "Of the 312 retailers, 94 have been ruled out since they haven't had any custom orders of a human face. Thirty-six more don't have their purchases compiled in any databases or storage clouds that can be legitimately accessed without a search warrant. Those are all foreign companies, which makes the chances of getting warrants slim to none. So, that leaves 182 possibilities."

"Legit," he muttered.

She had to clamp down her kneejerk reaction, which would have been a huff. Then, Ruby reminded herself that Owen was desperate. So was she. But she wasn't ready to step over any legal lines by using a hacker.

"You employ at least one black hat," she said, speaking of someone who did indeed do hacking. She didn't wait for him to confirm that because she knew it was true. He employed someone she'd fired for going too far. "But I have a white hat team that can mine data, just a little slower. They'll search for other ways to confirm purchases from those thirty-six retailers."

"Other ways, like calling each and every one of those retailers and hoping they get lucky enough to speak to someone to confirm such a mask was made," Owen muttered, not sounding completely happy about that route.

She nodded. "If they run into a retailer that doesn't cooperate with them, then I'll get involved or send an operative to that location. Give me six more hours," she tacked onto that when it looked as if Owen might insist on using his own team. "After that, if we still don't have answers, I'll turn over copies of everything I've found to your guys."

He seemed to debate that. Then, he smiled. It was a potent weapon in his manly arsenal because it made his already hot face even hotter.

"I'm not gloating," he insisted, the smile staying in place. "I just didn't expect you to…bend."

Neither had she, and that spoke to her own desperation. "In the little sleep I got last night, I dreamed of Olivia."

His smile vanished. "I'm sorry," he muttered, going closer to her.

"It's okay." It wasn't, but best for her not to spell out the details of the nightmare since sometimes that only fixed the images of it in her head. "It was just a reminder of the promise I made about keeping Brynn safe."

Owen continued to stare at her and nodded. "Redemption. We both need it. But I'll try not to ask you to compromise any of the things that make you Ruby Maverick."

For some reason, that sounded…intimate. Then again, the look he was giving her was doing that, too. Apparently, the hunt for redemption could chip away at barriers that Ruby wanted to keep in place.

He moved even closer to her. So close that she caught his scent. Holy moly. The man could bottle that scent and make another fortune.

When he kept inching toward her, Ruby thought he might intend to kiss her, and, of course, she would have to shut that down.

Wouldn't she?

She didn't get the chance to make that decision because his phone rang, and he did more frowning after he glanced at the screen. "It's Marlie. The call's coming from my dispatch, which means she rang Strike Force headquarters."

Ruby wasn't surprised that Marlie was trying to get in touch with Owen. The woman had almost certainly heard about Howie's murder, and she might be spooked about being on some kind of revenge list.

"You're on speaker," Owen said, answering the call. "Ruby Maverick is here with me."

"Good," Marlie snapped, and her tone didn't convey that anything about this call was good . "You have to stop Brynn. She's killing people, and I don't want to be the next victim."

"Oh," Owen remarked. It wasn't a question, didn't give away any info, but Marlie must have accepted it as an invitation to continue her rant.

"Brynn killed Howie," Marlie went on. "And now she's murdered that cop. Find her and lock her away where she belongs."

"So, you think Brynn's alive then?" Owen said after a long pause.

"Of course she's alive. Brynn. Killed. Howie," she snapped, emphasizing each word.

"Maybe," Owen muttered. "You think Trent and she are working together on this?"

Marlie gasped. "No." She stretched that out a few syllables. "Trent's not a killer."

"No? He's just an abusing asshole," Owen fired back.

This time, Marlie made a sound of outrage. "He didn't abuse Brynn. She lied. And now she's a killer." She huffed. "I'm wasting my time. You won't see your precious niece for what she really is. You know what I think?" But Marlie didn't wait for Owen to respond. "I think she murdered Trent and set it up so it would look as if he'd attacked her. Then, she ran and has been in hiding all this time, waiting to strike."

"To strike?" Owen repeated. "Why would Brynn want to do that if she'd killed Trent? There'd be no reason for her to kill Trent's friend or the cop who investigated her disappearance."

Silence. For a long time.

Apparently, Owen's logic had shot some serious holes in Marlie's theory. Of course, if Marlie was doing the killings to set up Brynn, she would have already known about those holes.

"Find Brynn and stop her," Marlie snarled, and she ended the call.

"I didn't get a chance to tell her that she might be a target," Owen said. It wasn't a flippant tone, either, but rather one of concern. "I don't believe Brynn is killing people," he went on, pinning his attention to Ruby now. "But if she's alive, I don't know who she's crossed paths with during these past three years."

True. And someone who'd entered her life, someone who wasn't anywhere on their radar, could be carrying out these killings for her.

Hell.

That just gave them an unlimited suspect list.

Ruby was silently cursing that curve ball when her tablet beeped. Not a text but an indication that the program she was running had gotten some kind of hit.

Owen stepped next to her side as she opened the program and had a look at what had caused the alert.

"Sheer Illusions," she read. It was a small company in California that specialized in custom silicone masks for theater and film production.

And her team had gotten the list of people who'd made purchases from them.

Ruby started scrolling through the more than fifty customers, but the scrolling came to a quick halt when she saw a familiar name. Owen saw it, too, because he cursed.

"Come on," he said. "Let's pay her a visit and find out about this mask she bought."

Ruby couldn't agree fast enough.

Because her was Francine Barber, Trent's mother.

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