Chapter Thirteen
What did she know about murder? Cady would have laughed if not for the grim look in his eye. “I know about as much as anyone who watches prime time television. I know that the cops would have a field day with this room, especially the crime scene sketches. That’s what these are, right? Crime scenes?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“But you’re not a cop.”
“Not exactly, I work for a private organization.”
“Like a private eye?”
“Something like that.”
Another evasive answer, but she sensed they were moving closer to the truth. “The guy who attacked me, tell me how he fits into all of this.”
“The man who picked up you and your friend was part of a cult. They’re attacking women that meet certain criteria.”
“What kind of criteria?”
“The long hair for one, it’s a constant factor.”
Cady’s eyes swept over the sea of faces, he was right, each one did have long hair. “What else?”
“Virgins, if they can get them.”
“I guess I should be glad that ship has sailed, not that it did me any good, come to think of it,” she murmured. “So they like hairy virgins, it seems like comic book stores should be full of them. Or do they take girls only?” There were a few men sprinkled among the women, but more the exception than the rule.
“They’ll take anyone that captures his interest, but he tends to prefer women.”
“He who? Is there a ringleader to this cult?”
“Ah… yes, I guess there is.”
He didn’t sound so sure, and Cady called him on it, sensing he was holding back. “You guess there is? Don’t you know?”
“They’re very secretive. I’ve been studying them a long time, and unfortunately, most of the information I can get is more about tracking their actions and less about the people involved.”
“How come you have a picture of Penny?”
His mouth opened and closed without answering, and Cady knew he was about to lie to her. “I got a tip that she might be in danger.”
“A tip from who?”
“A reliable source.”
A reliable source, my ass… He was holding out on her. “How could they possibly know she might be in danger? And how did you know where to find her? Did you follow Penny to Inferno that night? If she was the one in danger, why am I the one he snatched off the street?” Ethan blinked at her rapid fire questions, looking like he wanted nothing more than to bolt from the room. “Just level with me for Pete’s sake, would you?” she pleaded, thrusting the drawing of her friend into his hands.
“A psychic told me she’d be there. He said she’d be his next target.”
She hadn’t expected him to say that, and her eyes narrowed in skepticism. “You believe in that stuff?”
“It got me there, didn’t it?”
“But Penny wasn’t the one in danger.”
“She would have been if you hadn’t kept her from leaving with the guy.”
He had a point there. If she hadn’t stopped Penny, there might have been another grisly drawing tacked up to the wall next to her picture. “How come the psychic can’t tell you who the cult members are?”
“It doesn’t work that way.”
“Sounds awfully convenient to me.”
“There’s nothing convenient about how it works, trust me,” he muttered.
“What do they want, this cult? Why are they killing these women?”
“To feed a demon.”
Cady was about to laugh, but she could see he was dead serious. “A demon,” she repeated. “So the cult offers the poor girl up to the demon, but when he doesn’t show… they cut her up anyway?”
“It’s not a literal feeding. The belief is that the demon feeds on the energy released in killing the victims in a certain way.”
In a certain way – a bland way of expressing the carnage caught so vividly on the page in the crime scene sketches. It was enough to turn her stomach. “How long have they been getting away with this?”
“For years and years.” Ethan wiped a hand across his weary brow. “Every time we stamp out one of the bastards, another one crops up somewhere else.”
“Then that’s what you meant, when you said it’s not over? There are other members of this cult picking up where Claudio left off?”
“Yep, pretty much.”
“And so you have all this stuff because you’re trying to track the cult down.”
“That’s what I do, yes.”
“How come you haven’t gone to the cops with any of this?”
“Tell the police that I’m tracking down a demon worshiping cult?” he snorted. “They’d lock me up instead.”
“Why not? There are plenty of sickos out there in the world. Besides, you’re not telling them that demons are killing the victims, just about people who’ve gone off their rocker.”
“Regular police aren’t equipped to deal with this.”
“But you are,” she deadpanned. “With your rusty knife and the stabbing yourself in the hand?” Unable to drop the belief that she was only getting half truths, she shook her head.
“These people are superstitious. I try to use that against them, that’s all. If reciting a few mumbo jumbo words gives me an opening to take them down, I’ll use it.”
“Yeah, but… what about that guy who came to see you? Rikard? What’s his connection to all of this? What private company would have you tracking down a satanic cult?”
“Forget you ever heard about the Company.” His expression darkened and she took a step backwards. A struggle took place on his face then, the flash of anger giving way to frustration and possibly worry. His voice was softer when he spoke again, the edge blurred with concern. “I mean it, Cady. For your own protection. In fact, you should forget about everything I told you here. Just be glad your part in it is over. As for me, I should get back to work. I’ve lost my lead on him, I’m completely in the dark as to where he’ll strike next.”
Guilt flooded through her. “I’m sorry you lost your link to them because of me.”
“I’m not, I’m glad you’re safe,” he replied, just as surprised to say it as she was to hear it.
“Well… let’s go through it all again. Maybe we’ll turn up something you missed?”
Ethan held up a hand. “There is no we, not where the hunt is concerned.”
“I know I’m not a trained investigator, but maybe a fresh pair of eyes could give you a new perspective?”
“No, thank you.” Placing a firm hand to the small of her back, he steered her out of the office, locking the door behind them. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ve already told you too much.”
“Ethan…” She was about to protest that he hadn’t told her much of anything at all, but the wild cast to his eyes had her think better of it. “Alright, fine, I’ll stop bugging you about it. I wish you’d let me help though.”
“You’ve already helped more than you know. Speaking of which… thank you for the soup.”
He was changing the subject, and she let him, dropping her questions for the moment. “It’s the least I can do. You should eat it before it gets cold.”
“I’ll walk you home first.”
She’d been hoping he would want to hang out a while longer, but Cady could respect that he had a job to do. “I’m pretty sure I can make it there on my own if you’re busy.”
“No, I think I’d better see you home safe and sound. You never know what could be out there.”
Was he making a joke? Cady wasn’t sure. She let him escort her out into the hallway, leaning against the scuffed, green door as she searched for something to say. “Thanks for walking me home.”
“Thanks again for the soup.” Ethan smiled, lingering beside her.
“Thanks again for saving my life.”
“Thanks for patching me up.”
“Thanks for taking care of me when I passed out.”
“Thanks for…”
Cady leaned up on her toes, cutting him off with a quick press of the lips because she knew he’d never make the first move. She saw him blink in surprise, but before she could rock back onto her heels, his arm circled around her waist, drawing her tight against him.
It was her turn to gasp in astonishment as his lips covered hers, nothing hesitant or innocent in his kiss. Her lips parted to accept him, and a shiver of anticipation fluttered through her midsection as the kiss deepened. She tasted the longing there, felt it along the length of her body as he held her close. Her hands clutched at his shoulders to keep upright as he held her off balance, stealing the breath from her body as naked desire flared between them.
What had happened to the awkward, almost shy guy who kept trying to hold her at arm’s length? She felt the pounding throb of his heart, beating as fast as hers was, and she knew he felt it too. A thrill went through her as she realized she’d been right, he was attracted to her just as much as she was to him.
“Don’t you have anything better to do?” Ian’s voice was like a blast of icy air, and Cady startled, breaking the kiss to see her brother approach, mail in hand. Ethan let go of her like a hot potato, clearing his voice uncomfortably. “You do know she’s only nineteen, right?” he smirked.
“Like that matters,” Cady scowled as her brother shouldered his way past her to get into the apartment. From the way Ethan stiffened at her side she wasn’t so sure he felt the same though.
“I should go,” he said shortly, already turning away from her and she grabbed a hold of his arm.
“Wait… This doesn’t change anything, does it?”
Ethan’s head hung low, looking at anything but at her. “I never should have done that.”
“You didn’t. I kissed you first, remember?”
“Not just that, I never should have let you in, in the first place.”
Cady thought he meant more than into his apartment. “Do you always do everything you should?”
“Yes. God, yes,” he laughed miserably. “Until you came along, anyway.”
“What’s so bad about that?” Her knees dipped, trying to worm her way into his line of sight. Once she caught his eye she held him there, puzzled by the torment she found. What was the big deal?
“Cady, you’re way too young to get involved with a guy like me.”
“It’s not that much of an age difference,” she protested.
“It’s enough. I’m twenty-eight. I thought you were at least twenty-one, maybe twenty-two or three. What were you even doing in that club?”
“Oh, like I’m the only person ever to have a fake ID. It doesn’t change who I am. Besides, it’s not like you’re forty.”
“You’re still a teenager for chrissakes.”
“And you like me,” she fired back hotly. “I don’t see how this changes anything between us. What difference does it make what it says on my birth certificate? I’m the one you’ve been spending time with, and I’m the one you kissed. That hasn’t changed.”
“What’s changed is I’ve realized I made a mistake.”
Her breath sucked in, pain twisting her heart worse than if he’d slapped her. Cady thought she might have seen regret on his face then, but she wasn’t sure if he regretted the harsh words, or kissing her in the first place.
“Just… the safest thing you can do is stay away from me.”
“The safest…” Her brow crumpled in confusion. “I don’t understand. I’ll stay out of your investigation if you want me to, but I thought...”
“It doesn’t matter what you thought, I don’t have time to babysit you,” he said coldly, his entire body rigid and unyielding.
“Jesus Christ, who asked you to?” Her temper flared, a tightening in her throat making speech almost painful. “Don’t me any favors, I don’t need this.” Turning on her heel, she left him in the hallway, unsure who she was madder at. Ian, for sticking his nose where it didn’t belong, Ethan, for being such a jackass, or herself, for letting him get to her in the first place. He was just a guy she’d met a couple of days ago – why did she care if he didn’t want to see her anymore?
There were plenty of other fish in the sea, tons of guys who’d fall all over themselves if she smiled their way. She didn’t need him and his weird hang-ups. That was probably all that intrigued her in the first place, the fact that she’d had to pursue him for a change. Her rational mind could recognize it easily. He wasn’t even her type when she thought about it.
So why did she swallow back tears as she leaned against the inside of the door?
“You suck,” Cady fired at her brother as she swept past the couch, intent on reaching her bedroom before the tears began to fall.
“You’re welcome,” he called back cheerily, waving a hand in the air. “I’m trying to look out for you and you know it, Cady.”
“Everybody’s trying to look out for me,” she breathed, plopping onto the fabric covered stool in front of her mirrored dressing table. It was one of the few pieces she’d kept from her childhood bedroom. The white paint was scuffed and yellowed now, the flowers scratched and rubbed off in places. She couldn’t lean much of her weight on it when she put her make up on, but Cady was loathe to junk it. Apart from a few picture albums, there was very little that remained of her life before.
Studying her reflection in the mirror, she tried to see what they saw. To her own eyes she didn’t look young and vulnerable, or in need of any protection. She’d always regarded herself as strong, able to keep the household going after their mother took off. Keeping Ian in clean socks and underwear after her father died. Giving up her dream of Stanford to keep food on the table.
Most days it didn’t bother her. She didn’t dwell on what her life had become. What was the point? Pragmatic, she’d done what was necessary to move on. Why else would she be working at a dive like Spanky’s? Just like she hadn’t spent months moping over Stefan; she’d moved on, deciding to give dating a rest. And then Ethan…
It hurt her more to think about Ethan than she thought it would. With a few minutes of reflection, she could recognize that his parting words were designed to push her away more than anything else. Her own heated response proved his theory that she was too young for him rather than disproved it. Maybe he was right? Maybe it was better to end it before it got a chance to progress beyond a kiss or two if he was unable to get past her age?
Taking in a deep, calming breath, she rubbed at her eyes, wiping away the smudges of eyeliner that had migrated south. Her life wasn’t so bad. She had Ian, and she loved him, even if she planned to put cayenne pepper in his coffee the next time he asked her for a cup. Screw romance, she didn’t need more than Netflix could provide. She’d spent plenty of time never more than glancing at her next door neighbor. She could do it again.