“That was only the last two. Could be a fluke. The raid before that there was a—” he waved his hand as he searched for the word “—variety.”
“I think those women had been locked up as long as Missy had. These were shorter time frames. Something has set him off.”
Julian spoke up. “Are you sure it’s him—this Xander scum?”
I nodded. “It’s him—it’s definitely him. It’s like he’s—” I shook my head “—I don’t know what, but I don’t like it.”
Julian studied the table, the documents, maps, and lists we had laid out. He frowned. “I agree. Something is up. What changed recently?”
The room was quiet for a moment, then a voice I shouldn’t be hearing in this room spoke up.
“You took me.”
I whirled around. “Just because you have the passcode for the stairs, you aren’t supposed to roam the building. Get out.”
Missy crossed her arms. “No. I can help with this.”
I didn’t want her to hear this. I knew it would upset her. “You’re already helping. Your computer work is helping a lot.” I pointed to the door. “You know the way back upstairs. Find it.”
She tossed her hair in a defiant gesture I had come to know well. Too well. “No, I think I’m good here.”
Julian spoke. “Marcus, back down. Maybe Melissa has a different perspective.”
I swung around to tell him off, but he was standing, his hands on the table, frowning, in full commander mode. I knew I was being overridden.
Missy sat down across from me. She was pale and intense-looking. My anger eased off, and I stopped shooting her glares because I could tell she had come down here with a purpose that wasn’t just to piss me off. Her hand gripped a file so tight, her knuckles were white.
“What did you find?”
“I found him,” she stated simply.
“What?”
“I found Xander.”
Now she had all our attention.
“How?” I demanded.
“His real name is spelled with a Z, not an X. He swapped it out with the first initial of his first name. I am sure he thinks it’s clever.”
“This isn’t some fucking game.”
“It is to him. He’s—” she shivered “—he’s horrible.”
“Tell us,” Julian said.
“Xavier Zander. Age thirty. Only surviving family member of the Zander family. His parents were murdered. His sister committed suicide.”
“Murdered?”
She nodded. “If I’m right, by him, I think.”
“Jesus. And his sister?”
She pulled out a photo and slid it my way. I picked it up, shock making my eyes go wide. I met her anxious gaze. “You look just like her.”
She nodded. “My eyes are grayer, but you would only see that in person. I am almost identical.”
I handed the photo to Julian, who studied it, then handed it on to Damien and Egan. Leo got up and strolled over, whistling low under his breath.
“Mystery solved,” he murmured.
“What is your theory?” I asked.
“I found an old profile on social media. His sister’s. She mentioned him in some of her posts. I think she had more than one account, but this was the only one I could find. Then I went to the dark web. That’s how I found him. He was, ah, in love with his sister. Obsessed. He didn’t try to hide it. He had all sorts of posts about her—before and after she died. I think his parents tried to interfere, and he murdered them. His sister killed herself not long after.”
“I assume she didn’t share his feelings?”
“I don’t think so.”
“So, what?” I growled. “He’s trying to replace her?”
“Yes. I went through a bunch of the reports. How often the missing women had similar coloring to mine.” She paused and swallowed. “Why he got so excited when he saw me. I look like her. I’m almost identical. That’s why he told my capturers good job and why I was put in the cage.” She leaned on the table. “There was something in my mind, something I couldn’t remember. When I was in front of the camera, the man—this Xavier—said something. One word, but it sounded like an endearment. But it wasn’t—it was her name. He whispered ‘Xyla’—almost as if it was a blessing.”
“That’s why you were the only one taken that night,” Julian mused. “Why none of the other women reported missing were with you in that group.”
“Yes. I was transported here for him specifically.” She drew in a long breath. “I know Zander is into selling women. But he keeps his eyes open to replace his dead sister he was consumed with,” Missy said. “I was kept aside for him.”
“Wouldn’t you be given deferential treatment, then?” Leo asked. “If you were so special?”
“No. That was part of his plan,” she murmured.
“She’s right,” I said, seeing where Missy was taking this. “She would be treated terribly, so when she was given to Zander, his treatment of her would seem like a gift.” I studied Missy, who was nodding. “Perfect Stockholm syndrome. He gets a look-alike to fulfill his sick fantasies, and the girl has no idea.”