Resist (Sphere of Irony 3)
“How long has it been since the last kill?” I ask, already knowing the answer from my research.
“When you received the finger,” he confirms.
“Dallas,” I murmur.
“Yes.”
“And you found the body that goes with the finger in Dallas as well.” I’m merely speaking out loud as I put the pieces together.
“Correct. And we linked kills to multiple other stops on Gavin’s travel schedule, going pretty far back. Wolski has taken no commercial airline flights to any of the cities where victims were found. The other team is still at the suspects home right now, executing the search warrant.”
My mouth falls open. “So this guy has been driving to all of these places? Following Gavin and killing people in different cities?”
“Appears so. We didn’t understand the pattern in the locations until that finger showed up in Mr. Walker’s dressing room. We probably never would have figured it out,” Van Zandt admits.
“But you said he’s careful and deliberate. So why help the authorities connect his kills to Gavin?”
“That, my friend, is the million dollar question.”
I stare at Van Zandt and smirk. “So, we just have to find the right person to ask.”
Chapter 17
Gavin
My yeti companion pulls my SUV up in front of Dad’s hideous house, the light of dawn barely hinting at its arrival in the sky. Mitch never returned last night, probably still at the crime scene he wasn’t supposed to be at because he promised to be safe and to come home as soon as possible.
I scowl at the thought. He did eventually call, but being the brat that I’m always denying that I am, I ignored it, too pissed off to speak to Mitch. For the tenth time, I replay the message he left, listening to how exhausted he sounds.
Hey baby. I’m so sorry I didn’t call until now. I spent hours in my office and didn’t even realize how late it was until Sasha called to tell me they found another victim of this sicko.
Anyway, you’re probably asleep now (I wasn’t) and are angry with me (I was), so I’ll see you in the morning when I get done here at the scene.
Love you.
Another pang of guilt hits me. Mitch will be so mad when he finds out what I’m doing. But this is something I need to do alone. I have to face my father and find out why. Why he would send this sick man after me. Why he hates me so much he’d rather put a target on my back than admit that I’m gay.
At least I brought Bigfoot here with me. It had crossed my mind to sneak out alone. Then I thought about how furious I would be if Mitch pulled a stunt like that and decided against it.
“Wait here,” I tell the guard. “I’m sure I won’t be long, if he even opens the door.”
“Yes sir.” Bigfoot turns off the SUV and gets out of the vehicle.
I scowl. “Aren’t you going to wait here?”
“I’ll wait next to the vehicle, sir. It’s too easy for someone to sneak up on you if you’re inside a car. Plus,” he jams a thumb at my Range Rover. “Those expensive ones are soundproof and I want to hear and see everything around me.”
I roll my eyes. “Fine. Whatever.”
The big man leans against the Rover, his eyes alert and constantly scanning his surroundings. Satisfied he won’t follow me, I head up the long walkway to the front door. The sound of those damn pretentious chimes float through the thick panel of wood.
I don’t know that I actually expected my father to be home, let alone answer the door himself. So when the oversized, decorative door swings open, I’m shocked.
Apparently, so is my dad.
“Gavin?” His blue eyes bulge and his ruddy face blanches. “W-what are you doing here?” He closes the door until I can only see a small sliver of his body.
The anger I’ve kept inside for ten years grows, tearing and clawing to be let out. My hand darts out, shoving the door back and sending my father stumbling inside.