38. Daddy

THIRTY-EIGHT

Daddy

Rus was in his SUV, two counties to the west of Fret, about to raid a kids’ summer campsite that had been closed for the winter, but it was reported someone was squatting up there.

Since everyone wanted in on the takedown of Ezra Corbin or the Crystal Killer, against his advice, they were working with a huge team that included the local sheriff, some of his deputies, Moran, some of his deputies, and a cadre of FBI agents.

Over-fucking-kill.

As the men geared up for what would either be a shitshow, or more likely, pissing in the wind and a waste of all their time, Rus took some of his own to make a call.

“I haven’t made a decision,” Ezra said by way of answer.

Last night, Lucinda had fucked him, before he’d finished it by fucking her. But it was all him doing the fucking that morning. He’d also had good whisky and a full night’s sleep. And when he returned to his room after they shared breakfast in her suite, he saw she’d had his clothes taken away and laundered. So he further had fresh running gear, pressed shirts, the whole thing.

There.

Yeah.

He wasn’t even her man, and she took care of him how he needed it.

Or maybe he was her man. He’d been in high school the last time that happened to him. He wasn’t sure when that shit became official.

Though for him, he could peg it at her pressing the whisky in his hand the night before, then kissing his jaw.

Or when he’d told her to do it, and she’d got off on it, when he fucked her that morning, and she got an orgasm from her new daddy.

Needless to say, he was in a lot better mood.

“I know you’re scared. I get that,” he told Ezra.

“I honestly didn’t know she was going to do that to Brittanie. It was sickening.”

“Where’s the hammer, Ezra?”

“Dunno,” he mumbled. “It was in the bag with her stuff. She took it with her when we parted ways and she took off.”

“Who sedated Brittanie? You? Or Carrie?”

“I don’t know why she did that,” Ezra said. “I mean, that’s when I knew things were going to get weird. It was supposed to be about…about…”

He didn’t finish.

But Rus knew.

Apparently, Ezra found it a lot less fun to rape a sedated woman.

Jesus, this guy was a piece of shit.

“How’d Brittanie get the carpet burns?” Rus asked.

Ezra was silent.

Then he said, “Okay, yeah, it was me. I moved her around. I did what Carrie told me to do. And she kept messing with the tarp. She had some big thing about that tarp. Like, keeping it super clean. And when I moved her, I kinda…dropped her.”

Total fucking piece of shit.

“Why was that? Her thing with the tarp?” Rus asked. “Did she have some fetish around serial killers?”

“I didn’t even know what all that was about. I mean, at the time, it was just like…a new dimension. She told me when I was freaking out after we left that I didn’t have to worry. You’d be chasing your tails looking for a different killer. I’d heard of this crystal guy. It’s on the news. But I don’t keep up with that kind of thing. Though, I remembered it after she told me we’d be cool.”

So she told him it was about throwing them off the scent.

Rus didn’t buy it. Not completely. She’d planned intricately to murder someone. There was something else there.

But now, since Molnar was dead, he’d never know.

“You’re not the only man with a kink,” Rus said to try to lull him into doing something.

“No,” Ezra sulked.

“Let us help you.”

“Like a deal?” he asked hopefully.

“Ezra.” He sighed. “You need to get what’s going on here. This is serious. It’s very serious. There aren’t going to be any deals. The killer is dead. If you’d come in, talked about what Carrie did, you would have had leverage. Now, all you got is our desire for you not to get dead. And you share that same desire, I’m assuming. So work with me here.”

“I don’t think I’ll make it in prison,” he whispered.

He’d be perfect for prison. Fit right in being somebody’s bitch.

Rus didn’t tell him that.

He was done with this conversation.

“I sense you need more time. I just hope for you, you don’t take too much of it.”

He disconnected that call and jumped out of his SUV.

Dickerson was there, staring at his phone.

“Something up?” he asked.

The deputy looked to Rus.

“My girlfriend. She’s a real estate agent. She says Sherri Corbin put her house on the market and put an offer on a place in that neighborhood where the coven lives. She was accepted.”

Rus didn’t blame her.

“We doing this?” one of the local deputies called, giving whoever was in the campsite not too far away, but at least they had cover of a thick copse of trees, audible indication someone was coming.

It didn’t matter, nothing would come of it.

But they were doing it because the sheriff in the next county ran a boondocks half-ass operation.

Rus reached in his SUV, pulled out the vest with FBI in white on front and back, and he put it on. Then he shrugged on the blue windbreaker with FBI in big yellow letters on the back, and little ones on the chest.

He clicked the safety off his gun.

And they rolled out.

* * *

It was late,he was in the elevator going up to his room.

Lucinda was at work. She told him she’d be back at the hotel around ten or eleven, and he told her he wanted her in his bed that night.

She was going to sort her sleepover bag and head his way.

He’d had dinner with Moran and Dickerson at the Double D.

Dickerson had gone home to his girlfriend.

Moran had gone home to his dogs.

Rus had at least two hours until Lucinda came, and until that time, he was going to do absolutely nothing.

His phone rang, and it was Jennifer.

It was late for her, so even if he wouldn’t have taken the call if it was at a decent hour for her, since it was after midnight her time, concerned something was up with one of the kids, he took the call.

“Hey, everything okay?” he asked as the elevator doors opened.

He kept sharp as he walked down the wide hall.

No one there with him.

“I just…do you have a second to talk?”

Goddammit.

“Jenn, is everything okay?” he asked, touching the keycard to the pad on the door of his room.

“No, it isn’t.”

His blood pressure spiked. “One of the kids?”

He entered the room, flipped a switch, focused on her but did it still trying to stay alert.

He didn’t sense anyone there, but with one hand on his phone, one hand on his gun at his hip, he did a walkthrough.

He did this while she talked.

“No. The kids are fine. It’s me.”

“It’s you what?”

“Well, you and me, really.”

He stopped and closed his eyes.

“Jenn—”

“I think I made a mistake.”

That was said quickly.

The room clear, he walked back to the door, flipped the latch, then shrugged off his windbreaker as he headed to the couch.

“This is going to sound harsh,” he said. “I don’t mean it that way, I’m just going to be brutally honest so we can get passed this because, frankly, I don’t want to be here with you.”

“Rus—”

He didn’t let her get in there.

“First, you’re married. If you’ve used up your man like you used me up, that’s not on me. I don’t want any part of it. Second, we’re divorced. I do not want you anymore. You betrayed our marriage and my trust. But truth, we stopped being happy a long time ago. We’re never going to get that back. Though, I need you to understand I have no interest in trying. Third, again, we’re divorced. I’m not yours anymore. So in case you’ve been fixating on the fact you phoned when I was with someone else, there’s nothing between us to make your jealousy rational. But so you know, I’m with someone else. It’s serious. And I’m not going to have you insinuate yourself into something that works for me. So I have to say, I don’t want to get to the point where I’m not picking up calls from my kids’ mom in case something happened with them. But if you don’t back off, I’m going to stop taking your calls, Jenn.”

“You’re right, Rus, that was harsh,” she replied, sounding hurt.

“Did it get through?”

“I think I’m still in love with you,” she said nervously.

“That’s not my problem,” he replied firmly. “I know that’s harsh too, Jenn, but you fucked another guy knowing I’m a man who would not countenance my wife fucking another guy. It’s your mistake, but I’m not the one who’s going to live with it. I’ve moved on. Honestly? If you love me? Let me go.”

“That was harsh too.”

Now he was on the couch, the fire lit, his still-wet boot up on the edge of the coffee table.

But he said nothing.

“Are you still on assignment?” she asked.

“We’re not now going to have a conversation. And no, I’m not close for you to come over. But honestly, I’m tired and I’m done talking to you.”

“Rus—”

“Take care of yourself, I mean that. But if I get this again, I’ll hang up before we get anywhere near this far. And if you call after that, you won’t get me. Bye.”

With that, he hung up.

Then he reached for the remote, flicked on the TV, hauled his ass out of the couch and got himself a beer.

* * *

Lucinda cameout of the bathroom from cleaning up after sex wearing a beige satin bra and what looked like a matching loose pair of short shorts.

She just kept getting better.

He knew she intended to sleep in this awesome getup.

He also knew the next morning he was going to fuck her in it.

Though, those sexy shorts would have to go, obviously, but maybe he’d just drag them down to her thighs and do her on her knees.

“It’ll catch on fire if you keep staring at it like that,” she interrupted Rus making mental plans as she put a knee in the bed.

He reached and dragged her the rest of the way, mostly so she’d end up on top of him.

“Madden comes home tomorrow,” he noted.

She smiled huge. “Yes.”

“She doing good at her dad’s?”

“He’s concerned about what’s going on here, but she’s doing okay.”

Rus wasn’t surprised about this. He’d be concerned too.

“He the kind of guy who’ll go carefully since she lost someone?”

Her face got soft, she trailed a finger down his hairline, and she nodded.

“Ready to sleep?” he asked.

“Yes.”

As a demand, or she could consider it an invitation, Rus touched his mouth with a finger.

Whatever way she took it was the right one.

She kissed him.

They turned out the lights, snuggled under the covers, only Rus making the pillows the perfect fit, because he was acting as hers.

He was not a man who had trouble getting to sleep, he was a man who had trouble staying asleep.

Night two, he was out in a way he wasn’t going to wake up.

Until his phone rang.