But he’s made a grave, grave error in targeting Hudson. He has no definitive proof that my partner was involved with these men other than a picture of Hudson and Myer together, and a confession from a man named Delmarko. Who, I have to surmise, gave this confession under extreme duress.
I hear the hollow echo of footsteps from behind the door. Languidly, I move aside, so I’m not blocking it this time.
When Luke enters, he shuts the door quickly and goes straight to the plate he brought in earlier. I ate as much as I could, despite my reservations that it was probably poisoned. I reasoned that if Luke is going to kill me in the end, he’ll do so with his hands. Poison is more a woman’s choice for a murder weapon.
“You made a mistake in your research,” I say.
He picks up the plate. He hasn’t looked at me yet. “You ate. Good. You’ll need your energy.”
I ball the document I’m still holding and toss it at him. It bounces off his backside like a dry spit ball. “We both made a mistake.”
He sets the plate back down. I thought about breaking it. Using a sharp piece to stick in his jugular. I still could…later. But right now, I want to hear him admit he made a mistake. I want to see the moment he realizes he killed an innocent man in his fucking ice-blue eyes.
“Tell me,” he says.
I point to the board. “I was hunting down a lead from a girl named Laura Sanders. You were following a similar lead from your sister. Two girls in Seattle who went missing, and who ended up either disappeared or dead.”
He crosses his arms. Waiting.
“The dark web trade company specializes in importing girls,” I say, “as disgusting as that is. It’s the truth.”
“What’s your point, Mak.”
“My point is, it should be obvious. To anyone who doesn’t have a personal stake in this investigation. Laura and Jules were local girls. They weren’t kidnapped and traded. Neither one of us can link them to Phiser. There’s no evidence. There’s no trail. It’s an unfortunate coincidence.”
“Except for the Watchdog,” he says, observing me closely.
I lift my chin. “I know where you want to go with that, and don’t. You’re wrong. That’s where you’re dead fucking wrong.”
“Phiser brings in an ungodly amount of money. That alone should be enough of a sickening revelation to end the perverts who operate it.” He stalks slowly toward me. “But you’ve worked Major Crimes. You’ve profiled sadistic perps. You tell me if there’s a chance their interests fall outside the line of profit only. What would they need a watchdog for? Someone inside the system who could warn them, protect them. Make evidence go missing.”
I shake my head. “No. Nothing you can say or show me will ever make be believe that.” I get to my feet. “I made the connection. Now let me go.”
Luke moves to stand before me, his intimidating height towering over me like an imposing force. But I refuse to feel threatened. I’m weak and exhausted and drained, but I won’t back down.
“Grab a jacket,” he says.
My eyebrows draw together. He’s letting me go…with a jacket? “What?”
“It’s either a jacket or a leash.” He reaches into his pocket and produces a dog collar with retractable cord. “We can flip a coin on it.”
“You’re not letting me go…”
“I said when you made the connection, you could leave this cellar. I’m a man of my word. So grab your fucking jacket, and let’s go. If you try to run
—”
“I won’t.”
His blue gaze narrows. “I know you won’t. Because you’re curious. Because you’ve made it this far into the bowels of hell, and now you have to see the devil.”
He walks toward the cellar door, swinging the leash.
I toss my clothes aside until I unearth a hunter-green jacket. I slip my arms inside the sleeves, swearing that he’s wrong. I’ve looked into the devil’s eyes already, and he’s right here in this cellar.
14
Bone to Ash