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Apprehension needles my chest. I could very well be building the profile of a serial killer. All the traits in Colton’s past portray an ideal life one needs to lead in order to avoid suspicion. To lead a double life.
But without a trigger, there’s no plausible derailment.
I scroll down to the bottom of the page, my eyes flicking over the details of his life as I try to figure out what I missed. He’s never shown signs of antisocial behavior. But that doesn’t mean it’s not there, below a well-constructed guise that fooled even me.
There’s no traumatic incident in his history to denote he’s a sociopath. Nothing that stands out amid his life to set off a chain reaction to create a serial murderer. And I had completely disregarded the possibility of him being a psychopath before—because one born into psychopathy has never known differently. They have never truly experienced guilt, nor have they ever truly felt emotional attachment to another life. I want to believe that I can recognize this disorder above the rest; it’s the most difficult to hide from a trained professional.
And I want to believe that the connection I feel to Colton is real. That it’s felt and desired equally between us. I close my eyes and envision Colton’s blue eyes blazing with emotion as he looks at me. Feel his touch, tender and then maddeningly aggressive, as he takes me. My heart races, and my eyes fly open.
I don’t need a background check to tell me what I already know. Colton may have some darkness buried, something he’s trying to forget—but he’s not antisocial. He feels with a depth that I have craved to feel forever…and I’m furious that I’ve broken his trust.
One day, I will tell Colton about my abduction. And that might be the day he invests his full trust in me to reveal the missing pages of his life. Until then, I refuse to let my twisted brain turn him into the monster.
I know who the true monster is—I’ve known her for a long time.
Moving the pointer to click off his information, I notice a flashing arrow. It wasn’t there moments ago—it was just flagged. My heart knocks my chest hard as I drag the curser across the screen to hover over the arrow.
A field pops up with a name: Julian Reed.
Colton has been flagged as a person of interest. And it has nothing to do with his possible connection to the victims. It’s because of his relation to the owner of The Lair.
Before I allow my brain to start formulating possibilities, I click Julian’s name. A new page blinks on, the scrollbar becoming shorter and shorter as the data overwhelms the screen. As I read, a vise-like force clutches my throat. I can’t breathe.
The rabbit hole I’ve tumbled down becomes darker, deeper, pulling me farther into the hollowness. I can’t find purchase along the dirty walls as I reach and claw. There is only down.
My hand trembling, I click “Print” and then collect the pages as they’re spit from the machine. Snatching the last one from the tray, I have just enough mental capability to grab my shoulder holster and slip it on as I leave my office.
I weave a path through the crush of uniforms and people crowding the bullpen, my sight focused on the office straight ahead. Someone calls my name, but I don’t respond. Don’t turn around. There is only one person I want to confront right now.
When I reach his door, I don’t knock. I march into the office to find Carson behind his computer screen. His wide gaze captures mine as I fling the pages down onto his desk.
“You better start talking, and you better have a fucking good explanation as to why I shouldn’t go to Quinn right now and have you removed from this case.” The words rush out hot past my lips as my chest heaves. I ball my hands into fists to keep them from shaking.
After he looks over Julian’s file, Carson stands, hands raised. “All right. Just calm down, and I’ll fill you in.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down,” I snap. I close the office door and lower the blinds, blocking out the chaos. Then I move closer to Carson, my eyes taking in every facial tick, bead of sweat, his posture and movements. I’m tuned in to his body language as I wait to hear his justification.
“You flagged Colton Reed,” I accuse.
He nods. “Yeah, I did. Just now, but it’s warranted. I missed the connection the first time around…but that’s because I was so focused on the brother.” He runs a hand through his auburn hair. “I was a rookie detective. And I was cocky. I thought I could nail him all by myself.”
“You’re still a fucking rookie, Carson. This just proves it.” I shake my head. “You’re working an angle behind my back. Behind Quinn’s back. He’s going to lose his shit when he finds out you got transferred here to pursue an old case.”
Carson’s brow furrows. “Quinn knows.”
And the betrayal is complete. Quick and cutting. Gritting my teeth, I fall down into a chair.
/> Quinn knows.
I piece together everything then. The killings making headlines, the departments made aware. Carson contacting Quinn about a possible connection between the two cases. And Quinn bringing him in. All without including me in the know.
What’s worse? My own damn interference, which ultimately kept me from seeing clearly. I came across this victim during my initial ViCAP search and didn’t follow through. In fact, as soon as I realized the vic’s association to a serial killer case I had worked, I shut it down.
As far as I was concerned, that case was closed.
I was sure of that.
There was no way that the perpetrator from the Roanoke killings could be responsible for the Arlington murders.
