Page 44 of Savage Seduction

“Yes, but I have such a history with the department. They already think I’m crazy since I was too damaged to come back to the force. It would have led to nothing anyway since I have no actual proof of anything.” I steal a glance toward the restrooms. Again, I don’t see anyone.

“I’m sorry you went through that. I have so many questions related to the actual date, but I assume you’d rather not talk about that right now.”

I nod.

“I think we should go sit outside,” she says with a fake smile. “It’s a bit chilly in here for me.”

I grab my coffee and stand. We walk outside and find a set of chairs as far from the entrance as we could. Heavy traffic speeds by us as we take the only table that faces theroadway. “If we keep our voices low the traffic will cover us.”

I sit and lean in. “Who were you watching inside? I didn’t see anyone out of the ordinary.”

“I’ve had a feeling of being followed since I accessed The Butcher’s official police file. Not only that, but the FBI files on the guy are quite extensive. Max… they’re still looking for him.”

“The cops?”

“The FBI. And from what I can tell, they have not looped in the local police.”

I let her words sink in for a few seconds. “I guess that makes sense. This is confirmation he’s still alive, but they must not want the cops who screwed up his takedown to know.”

“Right,” she says. “From what I was able to read, his body was never found.”

“I knew that part… but I felt him get shot. I saw it with my own two eyes. There was no way he survived. To make it even harder on him, it was storming that night. The L.A. River was a torrent.”

She nods. “Yep, which is actually what saved him.”

“How so?”

“From the report, the FBI suspect that the police assumed his death and didn’t want to put an effort into searching for his body. Since the river was so high and running at top speed straight into the ocean that night, they let it go. Chalked it up as an unrecoverable body.” London leans forward. “Word is the FBI suspect him to be behind three ritualistic killings in Los Angeles in the past month.”

“Really? I haven’t heard anything about that on the news.”

“Not surprising.” She sits back and crosses her arms. “The FBI has put the killings together, but the cops haven’t. Eachbody was found in a different jurisdiction, and you know how cops are… they don’t like to share information.”

I nod. That was very true. Unless they have concrete evidence that they had the same suspect, each department wants to be the hero. It isn’t necessarily a bad thing, it’s just how it is.

“With everything that’s going on right now, the cops wanting to be heros makes sense. And if the FBI has put all this shit together, along with the information I found earlier this morning, things are heating up. From what I could tell, the FBI think The Butcher will strike again and soon. Max, I don’t have to tell you… you’re in danger. Clearly, he has his sights set on you and he’s been able to access you on multiple occasions. I would have called you to warn you as soon as I discovered this, but there’s no way to tell if your phone is being tapped. What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know yet. But what I can tell you is I’m not going to sit around and wait to be attacked. Would you be okay if I came over to your place in the next day or so and we searched the dark web, and whatever else you’re able to do with your outrageously good computer skills, so we can access and find him ourselves?”

She smiles. “You want me to hack someone, don’t you?”

“It’s more of a need than a want at this point.”

London crosses her arms and looks at me quietly. “I have a few errands to run for my grandmother, but I can come over and help later this evening. Would that work?”

“You think it’s best to do it from my apartment?” I ask.

“For now,” she says. “He already knows where you live so it won’t be giving up any of our secret hideouts… we can save them for later if needed.”

“Sounds great.” I feel a rush of relief at the idea that London is there by my side helping me. There’s no one I trust more. “I should be home around 3:00pm. We can order food,watch a movie, and get to it after that if you want? It can be like old times before I got this full-time curator job.”

“That museum gets in the way of all our fun,” she says. “Just you wait until I graduate, and we start working together. It’ll be so great.”

The chances we’d get to work together at the same museum once London graduated would be remote; curator jobs don’t come along every day, but it would be fun if we could pull it off. “I can’t wait.”

“Okay,” London says. “I need to chill for a few minutes. I’ve been worked up about this for days.” She lets out a deeply held breath. “Let’s discuss our weekend as if you’re not being hunted by a mad serial killer.”

We sit and laugh like old times for what seems like forever, but also no time at all. When London checks the time on her phone, we’ve been here at least three hours. Spending time with her is like being at Disneyland. She can bring light and life to the dullest of rooms.

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