Page 66 of Throne of Secrets

“I know, right? Who kidnaps someone on a weekend? I had plans.”

“You found him,” he cut in, his voice tightening. “That makes you the next one.”

Star’s mouth went dry. “Next one? Like, for what? A special club? VIP treatment? Oh! Are you secretly a billionaire, and you just don’t know how to ask women on dates without resorting to kidnapping?”

His eye twitched. “I should’ve gagged you.”

She gasped dramatically. “Sir, that is a crime. You don’t just gag people! And anyway, if you think I talk a lot now, wait until you do gag me and all my thoughts have to come out in panicked humming. Do you know how many songs I have stored in my brain? Hundreds. It’ll be a nightmare.”

The cop let out a slow, controlled breath, rubbing his temples. “I don’t have time for this.”

“Same, honestly. I was on a great date tonight, and now, I have to reschedule.”

His nostrils flared as he stalked toward her, yanked her up, and threw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “I have a shift. I can’t babysit your crazy ass. It’s going to be a pleasure to cut you to pieces.”

Star let out a shriek of indignation. “Babysit?! That is offensive, sir! I am a fully functioning … wait,what did you just say?” Reality hit her. “Oh my God, you’re the one who killed the guy in the garbage can.”

“You’re fucking brilliant, aren’t you?”

Before she could answer, the man dropped her to the ground, shoved something into her mouth and used duct tape to secure it over her mouth. Star tried to talk, but whatever was in her mouth was gross. She gagged and coughed. He stopped to grab something before throwing her back over his shoulder. They exited the dark, dank place she’d woken up in. He ignored her trying to beg him to let her go and carried her out of the dim basement into a dank alleyway. Was it an alley? No, maybe a lot behind a warehouse? Dear God, the scent of garbage and wet asphalt filled her nose. He moved fast, clearly needing to stash her somewhere before he went on duty.

Half-hidden behind a dumpster, a rickety old storage shed sat at the end of the alley or maybe parking area behind the building. He forced the rusty door open and tossed her inside like a discarded bag of groceries. She groaned as she hit the ground. Her shoulder took all her weight, and a sharp pain shot through her body. She tried to move, but his knee fell on her hip, and he pushed a needle into her again. And then another.

The door shut, and Star heard a padlock click into place.

“I’ll deal with you later,” he muttered before his footsteps retreated, and the world went dark.

* * *

Ethan waiteduntil the Guardian who was told to leave his SUV in the parking lot was gone.

“Clear,” Max said. Ethan jogged out of his concealment and jumped into the SUV. He moved it a block over and grabbed the computer left in the vehicle. Powering it up, he hacked into the internet of the office building where he was parked.

“I’ve cleared the three breaches. You have my complete attention.”

“First question: Why a cop uniform? Imposter?”

“That uniform didn’t look fake. I couldn’t see his face because of the black hoodie he wore, but I got a damn good picture of his chest and body when he put that bullet in the driver’s head.” Ethan could hear Max’s fingers flying over the keyboard. “I have a side-by-side comparison up.” The pictures appeared on Ethan’s computer. “I can’t read the badge number, but the measurement of the badge and the weight on the fabric look the same as on a random picture of an NYPD patrolman.”

“Okay, so, we go with the cop is real. That means this cop knows Star somehow. We need to check the video of her finding the body.”

“On it. Sending it to you.”

“There are twelve cops on scene.” Blue boxes framed the uniformed police officers as they moved through the footage.

“Eliminating based on height and sex.” Ethan worked the film, and the boxes turned red on all but three of the uniformed cops. He leaned forward, watching the screen as video footage played on a loop. The timestamps flicked by as they analyzed footage from the day Star had reported the body in the trash can.

“There.” Ethan pointed the cursor at the man and froze the film. “That’s him.”

The grainy footage showed a uniformed cop arriving on the scene, speaking with Star, putting her in the back of the car, and then driving her to the station. A seemingly routine interaction. Except now, with the knowledge that she was missing, it wasn’t routine at all.

Max clicked a few keys and pulled up an internal database. “This is the officer assigned to the call, Anthony Lutz. Been with the department eight years, mostly unremarkable. No complaints, no commendations. Just there.”

“Eight years. So, my relocation thought was correct. That fits with the Pittsburg murder timeline. I thought maybe this guy landed in jail. What could have caused him to start again?”

“A triggering event? Death near him, rejection by a woman, being belittled. You name it. Sometimes, it’s nothing but a look or perceived slight. You know these profiles as well as I do.”

“I do,” Ethan agreed. “This machine is too damn slow. Run his background. Something’s not right.”

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