Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Smoke

As soon as we walk through the door, Serena pulls out her phone, sits down on the sofa and calls her friend’s family with shaking hands. I can tell she’s super worried by her body language and the expression on her face.

There are numerous reasons why someone’s best friend might stop responding to their texts and calls. The most obvious reason is that the friend is initiating a hard break of the relationship. Maybe long-distance friendships aren’t her strong suit, or perhaps she is bearing some resentment toward Serena for leaving.

For some reason, I have a bad feeling about this situation, maybe it was the incomplete text she received earlier, that’s unsettling me. I don’t think this call is going to end the way she hopes it does. Therefore, I stick close to her just in case. A minute later someone answers the call, Serena jumps to her feet and starts pacing as she speaks.

“Hello, sir. This is Serena Sommers, I’m a friend of your daughter’s. I’ve been trying to get in touch with Gina for a while and haven’t had any luck. I just wanted to check on her and see if everything was okay. Have heard from her lately?”

Whatever the person on the other end of the line says, causes Serena to stop in her tracks. Within moments her legs buckle out from under her, and she sinks to her knees.

I rush over to her and drop my knees beside her.

Serena bursts out crying. “How awful. No sir, I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”

By this time, she’s crying so hard she can’t speak. I take the phone out of her hand and say, “I’m sorry, but Serena will have to call you back.”

Serena’s hands are covering her mouth and she’s shaking her head back and forth like she’s trying to deny the reality that something happened to her friend. I grasp her wrists and pull her hands down from her face. “Are you okay?”

She shook her head, “Gina’s dead. Murdered. They found her body dumped at a local park.”

I wrap my arms around her, pick her up and settle down on the sofa with her in my lap. “I’m so sorry, sweetness.”

“Why?” She asks tearfully. “Why would someone do something like that?”

“Because the world is full of ignorant fucks who don’t care about anyone but themselves,” I reply quietly.

“She didn’t deserve that,” Serena says through her tears.

“No one does,” I reply. Then I remember the unfinished text she got earlier, “When did it happen?”

“They found her three days ago,” she sobs. “Three days ago, that means—”

Her phone jingles again but she’s too distraught to answer it. I pull it out and turn it on. It’s a text from Gina, or at least whoever has her friend’s phone. My blood runs cold when I read it. Better look out. You could be next.

This is serious, her stalker is clearly someone she knew back in San Francisco, and I would bet my bottom dollar that they murdered her friend in an attempt to find out where Serena is. I pull back and look down into her tear-stained face.

“Serena, do you need me to call in a doctor to give you something to help you calm down, do you need to lie down for a while, or can you pull it together to talk to me for a minute?”

She wipes her eyes with the back of her hands. “I can talk. I can. I promise.”

She’s practically hyperventilating. She used to get panic attacks when she was younger, so I know just how to help her.

“Take a deep breath and hold it for ten seconds. I don’t want you passing out on me, sweetness.”

She did it a few times and managed to slow her breathing.

“Is that better?”

She nods, “I’m better. I just can’t believe this happened. Her dad said the police don’t have any clues. That means whoever did this is going to get away with it.”

“No, they’re not. Trust me on that, princess. We’ll figure out who took your friend’s life and make sure they pay.”

“Okay, I’ll do anything I can to help.” She wraps her arms around her stomach in a protective pose and rocks back and forth in some kind of self-soothing gesture.

I ask gently, “Who were you running from when you came here?”

She doesn’t even deny it. “My ex. He was a domestic abuser who got arrested. I got a restraining order. He was an attorney. Smooth talking. Charming until he wasn’t.”

“What made you finally decide to leave him?” I ask, trying my best to understand her situation.

“He threw me into a cabinet and I fractured my wrist. Then a couple of months later he came home drunk and tried to rape me. When I fought him off, he punched me in the ribs. It was the second time he hurt me. I quit my job, got a new phone, and filed legal charges. After that I stayed with Gina because he didn’t know where she lived. It was awful. I’m glad to be back here where things make some semblance of sense.”

“Did he know where she worked?” I ask, praying the answer is no.

“Yeah, he knew. She and I worked for the same law office, only in different branches. I met Gina at Bromwell and Perkins. She was their receptionist.

I display the message about her being next and hold it up for her to read. Her eyes get big.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying? You think it could be Stan?”

“I don’t know for sure, but rule number one is always start with the most obvious monster and work your way down.

“Stan is definitely a monster, but I never thought he was capable of cold-blooded murder,” she responds. Scrubbing her hand down her face, she blurts out. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“This is enough for you, for one night,” I say as I scoop her up and carry her to my bed.

I help her get undressed and put on one of my t-shirts so she can be comfortable. Then I tuck her into bed. It breaks my heart when she turns onto her side and begins to sob again. I sit with her until she cries herself to sleep and then I get up and call in the reinforcements.

My first call is to Siege.

He answers, still angry about Serena, “What the hell do you want? Is my sister still at your place?”

“We’ve got exactly zero time for your bullshit control issues. I just found out your sister has a stalker back in San Francisco. An ex who abused her until she ended up in the hospital.”

“Are you being serious right now?” Siege asks.

“Yeah, and that’s not all. I think the crazy fucker killed her best friend and sent Serena a message saying she was next.”

“Oh hell, no. This is not happening to my baby sister.”

“I told her we would handle it. So, we need to handle this shit.”

“I want to talk to my sister.”

“No can do. She cried herself to sleep and I’m not waking her up just so she can cry herself to sleep all over again when you’re done talking to her.”

Siege’s voice changes, sounding more sympathetic and concerned. “Alright, we’ll meet at your place ASAP.”

“We’ll meet in my pool house. I don’t want to wake Serena.”

“Sounds good enough to me. I’ll get everybody together we’ll be at your house within the hour.”

“Sounds good. We need to find this fucker and give him a dirt nap.”

As I wait for my club brothers to arrive, I start pacing in my living room. The moment I saw that threatening message I knew there was more to it than what Serena was admitting to. She was always the kind of person who minimized problems, but this is beyond anything I ever thought she was capable of ignoring.

I can’t believe that after having an abusive ex, she actually thought the threatening messages on her phone were meant for someone else. She’s a lawyer and has represented abused women, surely she knows how manipulating and dangerous these assholes can be? I sit down on the sofa and run my hands through my hair, totally exasperated with this situation.

I try to parse my way through what her thinking on this situation was. If all this happened months or weeks before she left San Francisco, that means the trauma is still fresh for her. Thank God, she got herself out of this situation reasonably quickly before she got seriously hurt—not that a fractured wrist was something to be taken lightly—and took out a restraining order.

She said she took precautions to make sure he couldn’t find her, and that included trading out her phone. I suppose it makes a certain kind of sense for her to think those messages weren’t meant for her, since he didn’t have her new contact information.

A certain kind of knowing comes to the forefront of my mind. If this man knew where her best friend worked, that would have been enough for him to get his hands on her. One quick look through her phone would have given him Serena’s new phone number. As an attorney he also would have been able to find out stuff that perhaps a regular person couldn’t. Did he know she was in Las Salinas? As an attorney, Serena’s professional contact details and place of work would be easy enough for anyone to track down. That means we have to be extra careful.

The missing piece of the puzzle is why kill her best friend? He has a restraining order against him, for domestic violence. Why exacerbate the situation by drawing yet more attention by law enforcement. Serena said the man was brilliant, maybe I’m missing some small piece of information that makes all this make sense.

***

I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting here mulling over the situation, but I jump up when my phone pings, and it’s a message from Siege saying they’re outside.

When I open the door, I see Siege, Tank, Dutch, Rider, and Zen. I automatically hand Zen her phone and lead everyone out to my pool house.

Siege starts asking questions right off the bat, “Are you sure my sister has an honest to God stalker? If she does, what makes you think it’s her ex?”

Zen speaks up. “From what I’m seeing there is definitely a stalker and a nasty one at that. He’s threatened to rape her, slit her throat, and all manner of grotesque stuff.”

I ask, “Can you tell who’s sending the messages?”

“No, the caller ID is blocked. I can tell you the signal is coming out of San Francisco. This is likely a burner phone. I might be able to get more once I’m back to the clubhouse.”

“Serena has been trying to contact her best friend for the past week. This evening, while we were out, she got a weird one-word text message from her. When we got back, she tried contacting Gina’s family, the woman’s father reported that she’d been murdered and dumped in a local park.”

“Shit,” Rider says.

“Just after she hung up, she got another text from her friend’s number. She previously thought the stalker was targeting whoever had the cellphone number before her—but this was a direct threat to her.”

“Zen,” Siege says with growing alarm.

“On it, boss. I pulled the friend’s name from the phone logs and I’m cross-referencing them with local news reports of deaths.” Within moments, Zen speaks again, “I found it. Regina Samson, age twenty-six, went missing five days ago and was found three days ago in Rigers Park near Buffalo, San Francisco. She was naked and bound, but the police aren’t releasing any details at this time as the investigation is ongoing.”

I curse under my breath. “Sounds like sexual sadist. That fucker isn’t getting within a hundred yards of Serena.”

“Speaking of which, why didn’t she come home like I asked?”

I shoot Siege a disgusted look. “You really need to stop. She didn’t come home because she feels like she has to get her own place in order to maintain her freedom and integrity as a person.”

Rigs steps in. “We talked about this Siege. I know you’re worried about your sister, but the way you’re going about it is all wrong.”

Dutch adds. “You’re starting to sound like the controlling asshole ex.”

Siege spins around to have a go at Dutch, but I shove him back with one hand. “No, he’s nothing like Serena’s asshole ex. Siege actually cares about his sister. He’s just confused about the difference between controlling and protecting.”

Siege sighs, “This is just harder than I thought it would be. Now, finding out someone might be trying to kill her has pushed me over the edge.”

“I get that, but the rest of us can’t let you crush her spirit to appease your fears.” He opens his mouth to object, but I interject, “Let’s grab a beer and chill out so I can bring you all up to speed on everything I know.”

Our club president somehow manages to get control of himself, and we spend hours brainstorming how to go about capturing this crazy fucker who seems hell bent on harming the woman I love.

Zen manages to dig up a wealth of information on Stanford Scott. He’s a pompous prick and I can’t wait to get my hands on him. When I track him down, I’m going to arrange a permanent solution to the Stan problem. I don’t want my Serena having to spend a lifetime looking over her shoulder. If the killer turns out to be her ex, there is no way on God’s green earth I will let him live.

When my club brothers finally take off in the early hours of the morning, I set the security alarm and go check on Serena. She’s still sleeping soundly. I crawl into bed with her, wearing only my boxer briefs. I know I said we need to slow our roll and I will. Cuddling is what she needs, not sex. Therefore, cuddles she will get.

She rolls over in her sleep and snuggles up on my chest. I wrap one arm around her, realizing that come what may, there will never be another woman for me. Serena is it. Maybe I’ve always known that deep down inside. It could be the reason I never warmed up to other women all that much. I’ve had lots of sex and my fair share of short-term relationships, but they were never like this. Not even close.