Page 88 of Brutal Ice

Curran nodded. “You got something twisted and wrong inside of you? See, the more they look at you, that’s what the Feds—and their profile on you—is saying. Is that why you’re hunting these killers? You doing your own bad thing?”

He’d always felt twisted. “I was there last night to protect Violet. I wasn’t hunting anyone.”

Curran’s eyes widened. “I think that’s your first lie.” Soft. “You used her to hunt, didn’t you? And the fact that she almost died in front of you—how the hell does that make you feel?”

Like he was splitting apart on the inside. Like his control would disintegrate at any moment. Like he needed to see her—touch her—or he would lose his mind.

“She’s out there telling the world that you’re a hero, but that couldn’t be further from the truth, could it?” Curran pushed.

Oh, so now the man started asking actual questions. “I never claimed to be a hero.”

“So you’re the villain of the story.”

“No.” Not that, either. “That would be the man who abducted and murdered Marcella White, Bailey Brown, Fiona Law, and now, Simone Wilmont.” A pause. “The same man who also abducted Violet Murphy just over two weeks ago. The same man who tried to kill her last night.” His words came out flat and hard. “The same man you should now have in custody. How convenient is that? Almost like he was tied up for you with a red bow around his neck.”

“Royal—”

“Hope you don’t let him out. If he gets out, who knows what could happen?”

“Are you threatening to kill him? Telling a cop that you are going to kill someone?”

Royal shook his head. There’s a difference between a promise and a threat, my friend. You should know me well enough to understand that fact. “I’m telling you something that I am sure your new FBI buddies have already said. And if they haven’t said it, they should. Killers like this one—they don’t stop. They can’t stop. Compulsions drive them. If you let him go, he will attack again. He’s come after Violet twice now. He’ll try for a third time.”

He should be dead.

“Micah willingly gave us his phone,” Curran revealed. “The call from Simone’s number was there, just as the call from her was listed on Violet’s phone.”

That didn’t prove jack. “Maybe Micah was standing right the hell next to her when she made the calls. Maybe Micah had a knife at her throat and he ordered her to call his phone so he could try and set up this BS story. Then he got her to call Violet. Or, considering they were fucking and Simone wanted Violet out of the way, maybe they planned the scene together.” Another option that had to be considered. “A trick to get Violet out in the middle of nowhere. See, Violet was told to come alone. I insisted on going with her.”

“The better for you to hunt and use her as your bait.”

His shoulders tensed. “Maybe the plan wasn’t for Simone to die, but Micah decided she was expendable. After all, she wasn’t really his type, was she? Wrong hair color. He likes dark hair. Hair like Violet’s. Like Marcella White’s. Bailey Brown’s. Fiona Law’s.”

“There was a bloody wig in that trunk. Same shade as Violet’s hair.”

Royal’s lashes flickered.

And—

The door flew open. “Gentlemen!” A woman crossed the threshold. About five-foot-eight, with shoulder-length, black hair. She wore a blue business suit. Better quality and style than most FBI suits, Royal would give her that much credit, but he still recognized a Fed when he saw one.

“The hacker, I presume?” Royal murmured.

Her blue gaze flickered to him. “I have a question for you.”

“Seems to be that kind of day.”

“I’m Agent Teresa Duncan, and I want to know why…” She moved to the side. Another woman appeared. Golden skin. Long, dark hair that had been braided and now fell loosely over her shoulder. The woman’s intense gaze immediately landed on Royal. “I want to know why,” the federal agent continued, “the famous doctor of the dead has just shown up at the Savannah police station and requested to see you.”

Well, well, well. What a perfectly timed development. Fate could occasionally smile on him.

Royal rose and inclined his head to the doctor. “Dr. Rossi.”

“In the flesh.” Her gaze assessed him. “Didn’t expect to encounter you in prison orange.”

“A temporary situation,” he assured her.

Holy hell. Beau had actually done it. Pulled off one major favor for Royal. I will be repaying him for years to come. Because Royal was standing and staring at the real-life doctor of the dead. Dr. Antonia “Tony” Rossi. A woman who could find the dead better than anyone else in the US. Her exploits were legend, and, based on the way Agent Teresa Duncan eyed her, the Fed understood just what a big deal it was to have Tony make an appearance in town and ask to see Royal.

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