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"He started learning how to use the charm early."
"Yeah. They cut him loose. Nothing after that point."
A headache was starting, stabbing behind her eyes like tiny daggers. "Tyler, I promise you, it's wrong. I don't know what happened, or why, but it doesn't fit. You have nothing to feel guilty about, hiring him for The Zone. The file was sealed, anyway."
"Yeah." He sighed. "My source had to relay it to me from memory, so I couldn't get any details on parentage or other clues. Maybe the answer's there."
"So you believe me?"
"Yes." And the more relaxed tone in his voice confirmed it, though she remembered Marguerite's gentle teasing about his God complex and knew he'd probably still rake himself over the coals for it. "My source agreed with you, which also helps," he continued. "She thought whoever harmed the animals had all the marks of a serial killer in training. Marius is good at masking, but not that good. And he's smart, but he's not a genius. I can anticipate and outthink him, and so can you."
Yes. But he still could surprise her. And had, several times, in both tender and sensual ways. "Okay. Thanks for the info. It may not have a matching piece in the puzzle yet, but it's another piece, and that's something."
"How's it going? Or would you prefer not to share yet?"
"Well, he invited me to meet his dad. Then promptly rescinded the invitation. Probably because his dad lives up in Raiford. But I'm thinking of taking a couple days off and going." Especially now.
"Raiford?" Tyler's tone sharpened. "That's where Florida State Prison is. The town would pretty much disappear if it wasn't there."
Eleven years old... The picture that formed in her mind was ugly, which summoned Marguerite's words about his childhood. It's a place that holds no safety for him.
"Okay." Her nails drummed the steering wheel. Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap. "Since we're violating his privacy, I have another question about him. Where does he live, Tyler?"
"I can give you the last address we had on file. He's moved several times in recent months. When Alex told me Marius was living at a Salvation Army men's shelter, I offered to help him find a better place to live, but around that time, he told me he'd found a new place. That's where he is now, far as I know. A basement room rented by a woman supplementing her social security."
"Care to share that address?"
"Thought you'd never ask." After he gave it to her, he paused. It made her smile a little, knowing what was coming and hearing it in the same breath. "You being safe, Mistress?"
"Not entirely. He'll only hurt me in the ways I allow to happen, though. Trust me."
"I do. But I also know you. Have you talked to Lyda?"
"Are you freaking psychic?"
He chuckled, a warm, masculine sound. "Sometimes, according to Marguerite. Glad to hear you ladies touched base. Let me know if you need my help in any way."
"You know it. And same to you." The BDSM community was tight-knit and supportive. One of the many things she liked about it.
Learning the flavor and shape of a new sub had always been another favorite part of her life in the BDSM world. With Marius, it had gone beyond that. She didn't want just those elements. She wanted the very soul of why he was as he was. She wanted to bring that soul into her service.
She just hoped she was prepared to handle what the core problem was and turn it into something that would work, for her and Marius both.
"Duncan's not there. He's gone for the next few days."
At the sound of a reedy voice, Regina looked up the concrete steps that had brought her from street level to the basement apartment door. At the top of a second set of stairs, the ones to the stoop of the house's front porch, a desiccated-looking black woman stood in a lavender house coat and fleecy thick knee socks. Her steel wool hair was tucked beneath a shower cap.
"Oh. Thank you. Are you his landlady?"
"I am. Volula Jones. He's not in any trouble, is he? I know they always say this kind of thing, but Duncan is a very good boy. A sweet boy. Does all sorts of things here I never asked him to do. Brings in my mail, rolls out the trash, keeps the hedges trimmed. Even does repairs. He keeps to himself, doesn't bring in any loud friends or loose women."
He
r wrinkled expression creased even more deeply as she looked Regina up and down. "He's a good boy, but you look way out of his league, honey."
"That may be true, but the best players always start in the minors, don't they?" Regina smiled up at her when the woman cackled. "Do you know when he'll be back?"
"He didn't say. Which is kind of strange for him. He usually lets me know. Just said he had to go out of town for a few days and might be a little while coming back. Left me money for this month's rent, though, so I'm sure he'll be back before the next payment's due. He's never been late."
