Nightcrawler Read online

  “I’m sorry. I was bored.”

  “If you’re bored, you read. If you don’t feel like reading, you exercise.” I pointed at the stationary bike. “If you don’t feel like exercising, you meditate. Isn’t that what I’ve been teaching you?” I crouched beside her.

  “Yes.” She nodded. “I’m sorry. I’m lonely. You leave me here by myself for weeks on end and only visit when you have time for me.” Her bottom lip trembled.

  “I’m sorry.” I leaned into her and licked her tears and nipped at her lip. “Come, let me help with the boredom.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The following week, we entered Kevin’s home. Dafne sat in his office chair with her handgun resting on her lap. Even though the police had initially accused Kevin of killing her husband, Jack, he became a free man a month later upon newly discovered evidence that someone else had murdered Jack. He was allowed to roam wherever he wanted to and do what he wanted to do, which irked Dafne immensely.

  Kevin had been Jack’s business partner. At first, they had alleged Kevin had shot Jack because he had refused to sign over his share of the business. Kevin had openly denied this allegation. Because of the contract they held, when Jack was murdered, his life policy had paid out millions to Dafne while his share of the business had gone to his partner. But, because they had accused Kevin of killing Jack, they sold the business, and another firm, belonging to Kevin’s sister, had bought it, which meant he owned the company through his sister anyway.

  He was a sneaky bastard, but that didn’t mean I didn’t admire his business acumen. I did, and I could relate.

  The door handle twisted open, and Kevin entered his house. He flicked on lights as he walked through his home and switched on the kettle.

  I was sitting in a chair against the window in the corner and flooded by shadows.

  He turned to face me, but he was busy with his cellphone. All it would take was one glance in my direction, and I was sure he could see the outline of my body sitting in his favorite chair. The porch light left one side of my body faintly visible. It was possible for him to see me, but he was too preoccupied with his cellphone to notice me.

  I raised my gun, aimed at his face and felt the pressure of the trigger on my index finger. It would be so easy to pull the trigger. But it was Dafne’s kill; it would be her pleasure. I lay my gun in my lap and watched him make himself a cup of tea and walk to his office.

  The cup smashed on the floor. “What are you doing here?” he yelled, his voice full of confusion.

  I stood from the comfortable chair and traversed the hallway to his office and came up behind Kevin.

  He stepped backward when he saw Dafne holding a gun.

  I gripped his shoulders, forcing him farther inside the room.

  He turned to see who was holding him and tried to twist from my grasp, but I grabbed the back of his neck, dug my fingers into the tender points and applied pressure.

  “Stop moving,” I commanded, and he went limp in my grip, almost crashing to the floor.

  “What’s the meaning of this?” he asked hoarsely, his eyes wide and lips parted.

  “You killed my husband, Kevin. Or have you already forgotten who your partner was?”

  “I’m innocent, Dafne.” He shook his head hauntingly and as far as my grip would allow him.

  I relaxed my fingers from his neck.

  She harrumphed in disgust. “You can stop lying, Kevin. It’s only me. Well, us.” She pointed to everyone in the room.

  “I swear, I’m not lying. You heard what happened.”

  “For all I know, you were the one who hired the killer. They still haven’t found him or her.”

  Kevin exhaled a shaky breath. “That evening, your husband called me to the office, so we could review the final contract one last time. But, when I got there, he was already dead. They broke the window from the outside in, the safe was empty, and he was lying there, bleeding. I’m the one who called the cops. Why would I call if I did it?” His eyes glazed over as he recalled the memory.

  “Enough, Kevin. I don’t have time for your lies.”

  “Why do you think I’m free, Dafne? My private investigator found all that evidence that pointed to someone else, not me. I don’t know who the real killer is. You must believe me. I never wanted Jack hurt. Ever. I swear.” He pressed his hands together, prayerlike.

  “I don’t want to hear anymore, Kevin. I know it was you, because Jack didn’t want to hand over his share of the business.”

  Kevin’s frown deepened. “That’s not what happened, Dafne. You’re only listening to the parts of the story you want to hear. We were going to sell it to my sister’s company as planned. It was a gentleman’s agreement at first that we needed to bed down before he traveled.”

  “You’re lying, Kevin. He never mentioned any of this to me.” Her frown deepened.

  “Dafne …” He approached her, and I let go of his neck; I didn’t think he would do anything to her, since he was outnumbered and unarmed. “Jack was having an affair. He wanted to divorce you and travel the world with his girlfriend.”

  Dafne shook her head then lunged from the chair. She ran around the desk and hit Kevin in the face with the handle of her gun. “Enough with your lies, Kevin. Enough.”

  He grunted in pain. “The truth hurts, doesn’t it? Just like when Maddy left me, just like Jack wanted to leave you. They are the ones to blame, Dafne. Not us,” he whispered hoarsely, nursing the cut above his eye.

  Through tears, Dafne stepped backward and fell onto the couch behind her. “That can’t be,” she mumbled over and over. “I would’ve known if he was cheating on me.”

  “I didn’t know Maddy was cheating on me until she packed her bags and wanted half of everything. I only found out the day before Jack’s death. I would’ve told you sooner had I known. I swear. I wouldn’t want you to go through what I went through. It’s heartbreaking. And I’m sorry you had to hear it like this and from me. I wish it were different.”

  Dafne was too quiet as she stared at the floor.

  “Dafne?” I called after her. “You need to finish this. Now.”

  If we let Kevin live, it would set a precedence we could not afford. No perpetrator could leave alive once we had them. Once they were a target, we had to go through with it. They were all guilty in our eyes, regardless.

  “But—”

  “No, buts, Dafne. End this now!” I stepped forward and away from Kevin. If she didn’t do it, I would have to do it for her.

  She stood, lifted her gun and fired.

  Chapter Thirteen

  We parked the van and killed the engine. The evening air had a chill I hadn’t considered until we climbed out. Surveying our surroundings, I saw it was eerily quiet; I couldn’t even hear an insect.

  Riverdale at three in the morning was the safest time for us to drive through the area. We had two choices: either dump Kevin’s body in Little Camulet River or Kensington Marsh. Both were near the railway and a place where people could be forgotten.

  This would be our fourth body dump in two weeks. We had spread the locations of the bodies throughout Chicago to avoid obvious detection. I’d opted for the worst areas to do the drops, and everyone had agreed. We wanted the police to think it was related to other crimes relevant to that area.

  “I just realized the cops might not even think these murders relate to the area because of who all the victims are. They are either businessmen or someone higher up in the food chain,” Joe voiced his concern.

  “They aren’t dumb, Joe. They’ll eventually catch on to what’s really happening. But they don’t know what connects them. They won’t know it’s us, because none of it makes sense. If something doesn’t make sense, cops make misguided conclusions that hopefully steer them in other directions. Nothing will lead them to us, unless one of us leaves evidence.” I glared at each of the Horsemen wearing their animal masks.

  Joe remained silent.

  After the short drive to Little Camulet Ri
ver and then back to Kensington Marsh, we eventually decided on the marsh. Damian and Joe carried the corpse wrapped in a black tarp toward the water and threw him in while the rest watched for passersby.

  “Shit, shit, shit,” Dafne chanted, panicked. “Cop car,” she whispered and ducked between the trees at the end of the marsh.

  The winding road would lead them to us, and we caught sight of their lights at every corner. We’d parked the van between trees, hiding it. The others flattened their bodies in the tall grass and watched the patrol car cruise toward us.

  Dafne lay beside me.

  Sucking in the cool air burned my lungs as my exhaled breath mixed with hers.

  Her perfectly manicured nails adorning her thin fingers dug into the grass in anticipation.

  I moved my arm closer so we were touching, and I could feel her heartbeat.

  She’d removed her mask and clutched it in her other hand.

  This was the first time I’d been so near to her that I could really see her. I’d watched her before but never like this. She was on the wrong side of forty, but she looked after herself and didn’t look a day over thirty-eight. She used to be brunette, but now her hair was mostly grey. She’d dyed thick streaks of platinum and chestnut into it, so the brown and white blended well. Her eyes were the color of ice caps, and her lips were full and very kissable.

  She licked them, and my gaze flittered up to meet hers. She was watching me watching her. As time stood still, as we waited for the cop car to pass, all I saw was Dafne. I’d dated women older than myself, so age wasn’t the problem. My problem was I knew too much about her, and she only knew as much about me I wanted to show her. But, in those personal moments of being close and staring at one another, I felt something else, and I was sure she felt it too.

  “Okay, he’s gone, guys. You can get up now.” Neal stood and approached the edge of the road to ensure the cop was indeed gone. “Yeah, come, let’s get out of here. People will start waking up and going to work. One look at us and they’ll know something was up.” He removed his mask.

  I stood and watched Dafne stand, dust grass and sand off her top and walk toward the van.

  She glanced over her shoulder, her chin pointing downward but her eyes were on me.

  I pressed my hand against the curve of her back as I helped her inside the van to join the others and closed the door. I climbed into the driver’s seat, removed my mask and started the engine.

  The bar was quiet as we sipped our celebratory drinks. Aika sat closer to Damian; their elbows touched, and her crossed legs faced him. Joe and Neal nursed their whiskeys.

  When I turned toward Dafne, she was staring at me, waiting for me to give her some kind of attention—any attention. I jerked my chin in the door’s direction, indicating for her to follow me into my office. I’d bought an old house and renovated it into my personal bar with an office and a bedroom in case I needed to sleep here. It was another residence for my pleasure.

  “I don’t pussyfoot, Travis. I’m too old to play games. Something happened out there between us, and I want to know what’s going on,” Dafne said as she entered.

  I sat on the large sofa and slowly sipped my drink as I took her in—her graceful walk, full breasts, and shapely legs.

  “I appreciate your honesty, Dafne, and, to be honest, I don’t know. We’ve been friends for years, we’ve shared our heartaches, and we’ve cried on each other’s shoulders. We’ve even fought. Tonight was the first time I really saw you.”

  The lines between her eyes deepened as one hand rested on her hip. She stood straighter and held her head a little higher.

  It reminded me of a mating dance, and I stifled a laugh. The last thing I wanted to do was piss off a woman who thought I was hitting on her—which I was … kind of.

  I had to extinguish the fire even before it started. “But we can never be together. You are free to do as you please with any of the others, but I can’t.”

  She stepped closer until she stopped right in front of me.

  I arched an eyebrow and leaned forward. With my free hand, I caressed the back of her knee.

  She took a step closer as I opened my legs, so she could stand between them.

  I moved my hand up her leg, slowly, feeling each curve of muscle. She wore black tights which hugged her figure beautifully. My hand moved farther north until I cupped an ass cheek.

  A gasp escaped her lips, and they parted, wet from a lick. Her eyes closed as my fingers traced the front of her body and moved from one hip bone to the next then down to the bottom of that perfect V-shape.

  I removed my fingers and sat back against the sofa. “Like I say, we can never be together.”

  Her eyes fluttered open, a scowl crossed her face, and she threw her wine into my face then stormed out my office.

  I laughed as I licked my lips. “It’s a good year!” I called after her, chuckling.

  Placing my empty glass on the side table, I heard her grab her bag and tell the others she would see them in a couple of days’ time. I walked toward the exit and pushed my body between her and the door, stopping her quick getaway.

  “Get out of my way, Travis. I’m done playing.”

  “You’re done when I say you’re done. As much as I want to kiss you …” I whispered, leaning forward, and kissed her gently on the cheek. “And I really do want to kiss you everywhere …” I licked and gently nipped her lips, tasting berries.

  She opened her mouth and kissed me back.

  I pulled away. “I would love to do other things to your body.” My finger trailed her neckline and went south between her breasts.

  Her arms pebbled. She didn’t fight me when I cupped a supple breast. She didn’t say no. But she watched me, her blue eyes burning with desire and narrowing suspiciously.

  “We should rather stay business partners. I’m a much better business partner than a bedroom partner. And believe me when I say this”—I leaned in closer—“because you do not want to find out what I’m like behind a locked bedroom door and you misbehave.”

  She paled, but her pupils dilated. She would enjoy the thrill of the ride, but she wouldn’t endure my ending.

  “Can I—” Her voice croaked; she cleared her throat. “Can I go home now?” Her voice was quiet and uncertain. She wanted all those things I promised, but she had alarms telling her to back off if she knew what was good for her. Her instincts were excellent for a hunter; therefore, she knew not to become the prey.

  I knew then I had made the right choice in selecting her.

  Pushing myself away from the door, I opened it for her. “See you soon, Dafne.”

  Without responding, she ran down the sidewalk toward her car and sped away.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The ambiance of the bar was calm; Aika and Damian were holding hands and whispering in the corner while Joe and Dafne sat at the bar and told me about their mundane day.

  Neal arrived with Dylan, their voices raised, arguing about the visiting rights of Dylan’s two children. Red blotches formed over Neal’s face, illuminating the fact he had a fiery mustache that seemed alive with each swear word. Neal pushed Dylan to the ground and kicked him in the side to keep him down. “That’s for my sister, asshole!” Neal shouted at his ex-brother-in-law.

  “Jesus, Neal, you didn’t have to kick me.” Dylan moaned as he curled into the fetal position. He sucked in bubbles of air and wheezed. “I think you cracked a rib, dickhead.”

  “Call me one more name, Dylan, and I will kill you.” Neal chuckled menacingly as he glared at him. “You know what? Call me whatever you want and enjoy it, because it will be the last time you say anything to me.”

  Dylan stared at Neal with a shocked expression.

  “Okay, boys, that’s enough.” I walked around the bar and held out my hand for Dylan.

  He blinked wide eyes at me, opting to remain on the floor, and stared at Neal.

  “What’s going on?” Dylan asked nervously as he scanned his surroundings.
r />   “What happened that night, Dylan? The night you killed my sister?” Neal crouched, his dark gaze penetrating Dylan’s.

  “I didn’t kill her, Neal. I swear—”

  “You went to jail, Dylan, that tells me you’re guilty of poisoning her.”

  “I didn’t go to jail for your sister's death, Neal. They arrested me for possession of narcotics. Your sister wanted to score—”

  “She did not do drugs.”

  Dylan snorted. “She was a druggie, man. Full-on drug user. She used while she was pregnant and even while she was breastfeeding. Why do you think those kids never sit still?”

  Neal hit Dylan in the face; his jaw crunched beneath the impact, and his head rocked backward as he hit the floor.

  A tooth landed near my shoe along with a drop of blood on the tip of my boot. I wiped it off with a napkin. “Okay, that’s enough. You can play with him later.” I pulled Neal by his shoulders and away from Dylan.

  “I swear, man. Why would I lie? Your sister overdosed all on her own. I wasn’t even there. Didn’t you bother reading the report?”

  Neal glared at Dylan with murderous intent.

  “If you had bothered, you would’ve known it all, man.” Dylan shook his head. “You stuck your head in the sand like the rest of your family. You guys knew what she did, but you all ignored it, hoping the problem would disappear.”

  Neal pursed his lips, the red blotches spreading, and his bald head shone with perspiration.

  Dylan chuckled sarcastically. “Do your homework before you blame other people, Neal …” Dylan drawled out Neal’s name.

  Neal lunged at Dylan, grabbed his throat and squeezed.

  The color of Dylan’s face changed from a light pink to a deep purple as Neal crushed his larynx with his meaty fingers. Dylan tried in vain to scratch at Neal’s face, but Aika and Damian were there to hold his arms down and away from Neal. Gargling sounds escaped Dylan’s mouth as dribble oozed down one side. The sound of a bone snapping echoed in the bar as a last gasp of breath was audible, and Dylan’s eyes bugged with petechial hemorrhaging.