Page 84 of His to Possess

“Hey. I need a favor and it’s one that could be considered dangerous. Are you game?” I closed my eyes, waiting for the answer. I breathed a sigh of relief after a few seconds. “No, I’ll text you where I am. Get here as fast as you can and text me when you’re near. I’ll meet you there. And don’t tell anyone you heard from me and I do mean anyone.”

I ended the call, shoving the phone into my pocket, inching back toward the front windows. The two guys were still in the front, waiting as if prepared for the worst. I had one shot at this and figured they would check on me soon enough. I eased upstairs, grabbing another round of ammunition as well as a jacket.

I was ready to head down the stairs when I found myself walking toward Max’s actual bedroom. I knew he hadn’t been here in years, but the cabin wasn’t devoid of some personal possessions. While the place had been well taken care of, I had the feeling he’d left in a hurry and not because he’d entered law enforcement training.

His room was exactly like the man, rugged in every manner, the furniture larger than life. The massive bed was made of exotic wood, carved in an intricate design. What surprised me was the headboard held an almost romantic feel.

I turned on a single light, studying the dresser, my curiosity piqued. For some crazy reason, I glanced over my shoulder before daring to open the drawers. There was nothing of real interest, until I opened the last drawer. The small cardboard box was kept closed by a rubber band. I pulled it into the light, chastising myself for invading his privacy.

But I couldn’t resist.

The box held photographs, dozens of them, many actual Polaroids from years before. The much younger version of Max’s father was entirely different than the man I’d met. He was happy and the woman standing beside him beautiful, her blonde hair shimmering in the bright glow of the sun.

And I knew instinctively that she was very human.

You are my mate…

The realization was interesting, although I wasn’t certain what meaning it did or should have. I continued to dig for a few seconds until found a picture of Max, likely from only a few years before. The photograph was similar to the one of his father, the girl another gorgeous female. This had to be the girl Max had mentioned.

Sighing, I glanced around the room once again, finally putting everything back and shoving it in the drawer. I had to find the real answers. Maybe Max had been brainwashed or drugged.

After turning off the light, I crept down the stairs, checking on the two guards one last time. I had one shot at this. I was ready to leave when a thought occurred to me. I moved to the computer, quickly pulling up the gruesome pictures of the crime scenes, selecting one. After printing the photograph in vivid color, I folded and shoved it into my pocket. This should do the trick. The moment I walked out the back door, a shiver ran down my spine. I was either losing my mind or had a death wish, but I refused to remain in some kind of nightmare.

As I crept into the woods, I prayed the limited level of cell phone power would guide me to my destination. If not, I was shit out of luck.

I half expected that I’d hear the call of men chasing me, possibly even being captured within a few hundred feet of the cabin. When that didn’t happen, I knew without a doubt that what Max believed about his life and his past was a lie.

However, there were still murders to solve.

* * *

I stood in the shadows, waiting. Biding my time. I knew the timing like the back of my hand, could predict the moment of his entrance down to the second. This was golf game day, the one excuse he gave himself for taking time off. Not to be with family. Not to give a shit about his wife or kids, but to drink with his buddies while swinging a golf club.

I folded my arms as I leaned against the wall, listening to the tick-tock of the old-fashioned clock he’d insisted on keeping in his office. When the door opened only two minutes later, I couldn’t help but smile.

“Hello, Father.”

“Shit.” He jerked around to face me, his chest rising and falling from actual surprise. I noticed he closed the door immediately, as if he knew there would be a confrontation. “Kathleen. What are you doing here? You look terrible.”

“Why, thank you so much, Father. You truly expect me to believe you didn’t anticipate I’d figure it out?”

“What are you talking about?”

I exhaled, taking a minute to observe his body language; the slight but definite nervous tic in the corner of his mouth, the two beads of sweat that had already formed near his hairline, and the shake of his hands as he walked closer. I pushed away from the wall, moving toward the easel that remained like a beacon of glory. I took my time, looking through the pages, finally laughing when I noticed the name scrolled on the bottom.

“Roselake, Father. You have plans to bulldoze the majority of the city, replacing the quaint buildings and homes with high-rise condominiums and hotels, restaurants and gambling facilities. A multimillion-dollar project and one that would certainly bring a very high return. That is, if you were able to find the right investors.”

I darted a glance over my shoulder, studying his reaction. There was a good deal of surprise as well as something I hadn’t expected. Fear. However, my father was excellent at masking his emotions and within seconds, he was stone-faced as usual.

“I’m a real estate developer, Kathleen. I’ve developed projects for years. Why does this surprise you?”

“Because I’m well aware that the people of Roselake won’t sell. Not a chance.” I walked closer to him, a smirk on my face. “Now, if they were to be run out of their city by either a tanking economy or perhaps some ancient secret that would be exploited, then my guess is that you and your investors could buy the land for a song. The profits would be huge, but only if you’re willing to destroy the lifestyle and livelihood of some decent people.”

He twisted his mouth, huffing in his usual arrogant manner. “Those are very tall accusations. I am many things, Kathleen, but I’m not a monster nor am I unscrupulous.” Why did the words seem to catch in his mouth, as if lying actually bothered him?

“That’s crap and you know it. What I can’t figure out is how the murders of innocent people fit into all of this, or at least I couldn’t. Until now.”

“Murders?” He walked closer, swaying just enough I knew I had caught him off guard. “Now you’re accusing your father of being a murderer?”

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