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Wide eyes met his, but she nodded and retreated. Ty retrieved his cell phone and used the camera to snap photos and then record a video. “This box was put on the front porch of 2122 Linden Lane, Blue Harbor, North Carolina, at 9:20 p.m.” He propped up the phone and removed the white tissue paper from the box. Blood hadn’t seeped through, but a postmortem body part didn’t bleed.
Not a body part.
He lifted out two wooden sticks that resembled rulers attached to black fishing line. What on earth? “Bex, you can come in.”
Bexley returned. “Marionette strings? What does that mean?”
He turned off the recording and studied the strings and wooden handles as the meaning settled like an arctic tundra in his bones. “He’s calling me a puppet. He’s pulling the strings. My strings.” A taunting gift reminding Ty he was nothing more than a play toy.
Puppets’ actions were controlled by the attached strings. How was he being controlled? Okay, the bodies brought his team here, but after arriving, they followed leads in the investigation. Could the killer be controlling even their investigation? Seemed likely with the information he fed them with the flash drive and video.
This went far deeper than a killer wanting revenge. This was a killer who wanted complete dominion over Ty.
Bexley wrung her hands. “What’s that mean, Tiberius? How?”
Tiberius massaged his chin. “Honestly, I’m not sure.”
But it must connect with the girls Patrick Swain hired for his fantasy land beach home business. Ahnah had been one—which he still wasn’t telling Bexley about. Not yet. Amy-Rose, Lily Hayes and maybe other girls who were on the missing list.
The killer had wanted them to know about Jenny Davis and Patrick Swain.
Why?
Was it someone who wanted Swain under scrutiny? He needed to see Skipper again.
Ethan Lantrip’s Good Samaritan act never did sit well with Ty. But what was at play here? How was Ty being this killer’s puppet?
Had Ahnah’s alleged nefarious activity landed her on this killer’s radar? Was the killer the person paying for the fantasy? Had he specifically asked for women with flowers in their names?
Patrick was in commercial property, which meant he had access to warehouses and abandoned buildings.
Commercial property. Just like Ty’s own father.
Could Patrick Swain have ties to Rand Granger? Had he been in the Family but not lived in the gated community, which was strictly for leadership families? Other members were spread all over Asheville and Charlotte. As far as Raleigh.
Maybe even the Outer Banks.
“Ty, I can see your wheels turning. What’s going on? Whatever it is, I can handle it. I need to know. I might even be able to help you.” Bexley stepped into his personal space. “I know you. Seventeen years have passed, but I still know you, and you’re keeping something from me. What is it?”
He hesitated. This would not be easy for her, and they had no proof. But she might be able to help somehow. “It’s going to be a blow.”
“I can take it.”
He sighed heavily. “Ahnah might have been prostituting.”
“Lie!”
The force behind the word startled Ty and Bex. Josiah stood in the hallway, his nostrils flaring.
“She would never do that!” Josiah ran back to his room.
“Let me,” Ty said, and chased after him, entering his room without knocking.
“Go away,” Josiah said, sprawled on his bed, his pillow covering his face.
“I said it was possible, Josiah. You weren’t meant to hear that. We don’t know for sure. But we do know that Skipper—the guy you told me about—he took girls out to a beach house where they did things that I can’t talk about.”
Josiah uncovered his face as he scooched up on his rumpled bed. Such a boy’s room. Musk and old sock smells permeated the small space. Clothes littered the floor, and empty food containers and soda cans cluttered the desk and dresser. “Ahnah could be kind of wild at times. But it’s Mom’s fault.”
