“I loved her, you know,” he said, and reached into his waistband to extract a handgun. Not his service weapon—something smaller, easily concealed. “Not the way you think. Not like that. I just... admired her spirit.”
“What did you do to my granddaughter?” Ava’s voice was thin but unwavering.
Julius glanced at her, something like regret crossing his features. “It was an accident, at first. She came at me that night, screaming about how I needed to leave her friend alone. She called me a predator.” His jaw tightened. “She shoved me. I shoved back. She fell... hit her head on the stone edging by the porch.”
Naomi felt the air leave her lungs as if she’d been punched. All these years, the truth had been so simple, so mundane. Not a grand conspiracy, not a sex trafficking ring—just a stupid, awful accident.
But then Julius continued, and the horror deepened.
“I panicked,” he said, pacing now, the gun dangling almost casually from his fingers. “Her eyes were open, staring at nothing. There was blood. So much blood.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t let them find her like that. Couldn’t let them know what I’d done. So I hid her.”
“You buried her,” Naomi whispered, the pieces clicking into awful clarity. “You buried her like garbage.”
“I made it look nice,” Julius protested, his voice taking on a wounded quality that made Naomi’s stomach turn. “I wrapped her in her favorite blanket. The yellow one with the stars. I picked wildflowers. Left them with her.”
Ava made a sound like a wounded animal, a keening that started deep in her chest and died before it reached her lips.
“You should have stopped there,” Naomi said, her voice shaking with rage and grief. “One terrible mistake. But you didn’t, did you?”
Julius’ smile was sad, almost wistful. “No. I didn’t. That’s the strange part—I thought I would feel horrible. Guilty. Butinstead, I felt...” He considered his words carefully. “Powerful. In control. I’d taken a life, and no one even suspected me. I was the grieving cousin, the supportive brother. Everyone’s shoulder to cry on.”
His pacing took him to the window, where he peered out into the darkness before drawing the curtain. “After a while, I started to wonder if I could do it again. If Mary Rose was a fluke, or if I could recapture that feeling.”
“How many?” Naomi asked, needing to know and dreading the answer.
Julius tilted his head, considering. “Including Leelee? Thirteen.”
Bile rose in Naomi’s throat. Thirteen women. Thirteen lives snuffed out by the man she’d trusted, the cousin who’d comforted her through her darkest days.
“Richelle Twoteeth. Danielle Lankford,” she said numbly. “Chelsea Quequesah. Tara Rainwater. Jordann Pete.Were they yours, too?”
He nodded, pleased like a student being praised for correct answers. “All but Chelsea. I think they sent her to work in a brothel in Mexico. Richelle was the most challenging. She fought harder than the others. But in the end...” He trailed off, shrugging.
“Alice Doughtery?” Nomai whispered, barely able to get the name out past her dry lips.
“Nah, I had no interest in her. I don’t like blondes. She was one of Mitch’s Bitches. That’s what they call the girls they traffic. Mitch’s Bitches.” He snorted, then shook his head. “I don’t know what happened to her after they shipped her off. She’s probably dead.”
Dear God. Everyone thought Owen was cold, but he wasn’t anything like this. This wasn’t cold; this was empty, a black void where a human soul should be.
“How could you?” Ava’s voice cracked. “I raised you better than this.”
Julius’ expression darkened. “You raised me to be invisible. The good grandson. The responsible one. Never making waves, never causing trouble.” Bitterness seeped into his voice. “Do you know what that’s like? To fade into the background of your own life?”
“So you murdered seven women to feel special?” Naomi spat. “To feel powerful?”
“Don’t simplify it,” he snapped, his control slipping again. “It wasn’t just about feeling powerful. It was about... becoming who I really am.”
“A monster,” Ava said softly. “You became a monster, Julius.”
He ignored her, focusing on Naomi again. “Leelee was an impulse. I saw her at the casino, and something about her reminded me of Mary Rose. Same spirit. Same light. I wanted to see if I could extinguish it.” He sighed. “But she fought too hard, left evidence. That’s when I knew I’d need help cleaning up.”
“The trafficking ring,” Naomi said, finally understanding. “You didn’t start it. You just used it.”
Julius nodded, looking almost impressed. “I caught them using the old logging roads to move girls two years ago. Could have busted the whole operation. Instead, I made a deal. They pay me to look the other way, and occasionally, they help me with... disposal.”
“And when I came back, started looking into Leelee’s case...”
“I got nervous.” He shrugged. “You’ve always been too smart for your own good, Naomi. Too determined. I knew you’d eventually connect the dots, especially with that ex-CIA boyfriend of yours sniffing around. So I reached out to my contacts. Asked them to take you off the board for a while.”
