Sophie Oak - Lost in Bliss

Nate frowned. He opened the bag. “It’s just a sandwich. I don’t know if that will feed me. Hope was right. I get cranky if I don’t have proper sustenance.”

“Fine.” Nate Wright was a greedy bastard. She obviously wasn’t going to get anything out of him. “Do you mind if I use your bathroom? I still feel grubby.”

He waved her toward the bathroom as he took a long drink of the coffee his wife had brought him. “Feel free. Apparently we have time.

I tell you, I don’t like being on someone else’s timetable. I’m going to call over and see if Caleb’s gotten started.” On the autopsy. Laura stood and tried to approximate a smile.

“Okay. You do that. Rafe and Cam should be here soon.” She turned and walked into Nate’s private bathroom. She closed the door behind her and took a long, deep breath. The events of the week crashed over her. She choked back tears. She couldn’t lose it now. Later, when Rafe and Cam were surrounding her, she could lose it, but now she had to keep her composure.

She walked to the window. Fresh air. Nate’s office had a window with a broken lock allowing for the pane to open. Laura opened it and breathed in the cool air. Despite the fact that it was summer, the mornings were still cool. She let her head rest against the sill.

She had to find the strength to get through this. She wasn’t alone, and she wasn’t walking away this time. She wouldn’t leave her home.

Never again.

She straightened up. As she went to close the window, she noticed a car in the alleyway. It was a big, black SUV. One of the feds. Damn it. Now they couldn’t be bothered to park in the lot?

Why wouldn’t they park in the lot? There was plenty of parking in the front and side of the building. The alley was narrow, and anyone who parked there would have to walk all the way around the building to get to the front. Not to mention if Nate saw it, he would ticket the person who parked there.

A cold chill went across her skin. It was illogical, unless the person didn’t want anyone to know the car was here.

“Nate,” Laura called out. She leaned over the sill trying to see if she could get the plate number off the car. It was almost surely a rental, but at least they could tell who had rented it. “Nate, get in here.

You need to see this.”

The door to the bathroom opened. Laura turned to give Nate a chance to look out the window.

Brad Conrad stood in the doorway. “You need to come with me.” Laura shrank back. She couldn’t miss the look in Brad’s eyes or the gun he held. Primitive fear threatened to take over. She pushed it back and tried to figure a way out. If she tried to get out the window, he’d be on her before she could get through. She would fit through the window, but she’d land face first and have to scramble to get up. Then there was another problem.

“What did you do to Nate?” Nate Wright wouldn’t have allowed this asshole to walk in. Her stomach rolled. Please don’t let Nate be dead. He was so close to having his family with Callie and Zane. She couldn’t even think about it.

Brad frowned. “I didn’t do anything, but he’s out cold. Look, Laura, you’re coming with me. I’m sorry, but I can’t take no for an answer.”

He reached out to grab her, and Laura feinted to her left. She punched out with her right hand, catching him in the jaw. Brad groaned, and Laura pushed her way around him. He fell back, hitting his head hard against the sink. The sound thudded through the room, and Laura couldn’t miss the blood that started to pool around Brad’s head. She shoved her way out of the door and froze at the sight in front of her.

Joseph Stone slipped from the small closet behind Nate’s desk, a Taser in his hands.

And Laura realized she’d made a deadly mistake.

“You’re certain?” Rafe asked, his heart racing as he put the SUV

in reverse and jammed his foot on the gas. He was pretty sure he hadn’t locked the motel door, but it didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered except getting to Laura.

Cam clicked his seat belt into place and turned to Rafe, gesturing toward the computer. “It’s right here. I know it’s not conclusive, but this is it. This is what we’ve been looking for. The lipstick connects the cases. Purple Passion. The lipstick is listed in the evidence log for Marla Stone’s suicide. Joe’s wife is the connection. She’s wearing the same lipstick that the Marquis de Sade puts on all his victims. That can’t be a coincidence. Tell me you think I’m wrong. Tell me Laura isn’t in the same building with the man who almost killed her.”

“It was a suicide.” Rafe said the words, but he no longer believed them.

“I don’t think so. I think she’s the first.” Cam still had his laptop up and running. He struggled a little to keep the thing steady. “She slit her wrists. Damn. And she was pregnant according to the autopsy.

She said in her suicide note—which was typed and unsigned—that she couldn’t handle what she had done and called herself a whore.

The police concluded she’d been having an affair with a coworker.” Rafe let his eyes close briefly. “That’s why he tortured the victims with shallow wounds to their lower abdomen. That was probably what he wanted to do to her the first time, but Joe has always been a disciplined bastard. He planned it. He knew he couldn’t get away with torturing her, so he staged a suicide, but he couldn’t let it go. The first victim was killed a year after Marla, and every six to seven months after, he killed again. He was killing her over and over again.”

“That would be my take on it,” Cam replied. “And after we found the first couple of victims and the news reports started, he couldn’t help himself. He had to control his image. He needed more than just the killing. He needed the attention. He asked for our team to be assigned to this case, you know.”

“I remember it well.” Rafe remembered how Joe had gone over all the evidence the DC metro police had found before deciding it was a serial case and calling in the Bureau. He’d thought Joe was excited about taking on a big case. The bastard had talked about how smart the killer was. He went on and on about how hard it would be to catch this one. At the time, Rafe had taken it as Joe issuing a challenge to his team.

Joseph Stone had been bragging.

Cam broke through Rafe’s thoughts. Fingers flew across the keyboard in a flurry. “It gets worse. Did you know Joe had a brother?

He’s in a mental institution and has been for years. He was discovered torturing animals and was accused of raping a neighborhood girl. Do you know who the star witness was in his trial?”

“Joe, I’m sure.”

“His brother’s IQ is under 80. It would have been easy for Joe to make him the scapegoat. The girl didn’t see who it was because the attacker wore a mask, but forensics led to someone from next door.

Apparently Joe’s mother had some rare plants in her home that tracked to the crime scene. Joe gave up his brother. Joe testified that he’d covered his brother’s violent streak for years. The fucker was seventeen years old. And his father divorced his mother for cheating on him. God, what a pattern.”

For the normal person, it was a pattern that would lead to bitterness and a host of self-destructive tendencies. But with that rare person, it led to focusing the rage outward. Joe was a super predator.

The tendency had always been there. Rafe knew the story well. Most serial killers had similar stories. Joe had undoubtedly been the one to torture animals as a kid. Joe had been the one to rape his neighbor.

He’d been lucky that there was an easy scapegoat, or Joe would have been discovered. Rafe could guess how things had gone after that close call. Joe had hidden his monster for years until the inciting incident—discovering his wife was pregnant with another man’s child. Then he couldn’t hold it in any longer. The fact that he’d planned his wife’s death was a testament to Joe’s discipline.

If Joe intended to kill Laura, he would have an excellent plan in place.

Cam was staring at the screen as though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “He’s hidden this for years. Do you think he laughed the whole time we were profiling the Marquis de Sade?”

“I bet he did,” Rafe replied.

He’d never known the man. He’d worked beside him for years, and he’d never seen the monster behind the mask. Joe had been the one to sit down with him after Laura left. He’d listened. He’d bought him beers, and Rafe had gone over everything that had happened to her.

“The fucker enjoyed listening to me,” Rafe said, finally understanding.

Cam nodded, his lips a grim line. “Yes, he would. He would enjoy the misery he caused. Being so close to the case had to have given him an enormous amount of satisfaction. He was able to manipulate things his way. And when Laura got too close, he tried to kill her.”

“Is the radio working?” They had tried a couple of times already.

Bile rose in Rafe’s throat at the thought of Laura being in the same state as Joe, much less the same room.

Cam switched some dials on the radio he held. “This is Cameron Briggs. Can anyone hear me?” He groaned. “And no one is answering. What the hell? The station is supposed to be manned. I know there are at least five people in that building. Why aren’t they answering?”

Rafe hit the gas again, cursing the fact that the motel was on the outskirts of town. “Try the direct frequency for the sheriff.” Frustration dripped from Cam’s voice as he closed the laptop and set it at his feet, his whole attention focused on the radio in his hands.