Page 89 of Protected from Malice
“Now?” I ask, removing my hand from his mouth again.
“Fine,” he whimpers. “Fine. Just don’t… Please. Don’t kill me.”
I’m almost disappointed he folded so quickly.
But I’m not here to break all his fingers. I’m here for the truth. “Tell me. Start at the beginning and tell meeverything.”
So he does.
And of course, we record all of it, making sure to disguise our own voices. Not that we could tell the policehowwe extracted his confession, but if it ends up in their hands anonymously? Well, they could consider it good fortune. A helping hand in solving the case.
Rickard starts with his first sighting of Eden, not in person, but on social media. “She was a friend of a friend,” he explains weakly. “And she was so pretty, I had to find out more about her. So I started looking for her online. All her accounts. Mentions on her company website. All her research.”
Almost dreamily, he adds, “She’s brilliant, you know. Beautiful and brilliant. And modest. She never brags about herself online. All she posts about are fundraisers for veterans. How could I not fall in love with her?”
“So you decided to stalk her?” I ask. “Terrify her?”
“I just wanted to see where she lived. Watch out for her. And I thought… if we ran into each other, I could introduce myself. Maybe ask her out.”
“But you didn’t stop there.” My voice is flat. A cold warning.
“I—” Rickard shakes his head. “No. I don’t want to. I’ll go to jail.”
This time I break two more of his fingers. “You’ll wish you were in jail,” I threaten. “But trust me, I can come after you there, too.”
And I can. Not directly, but I have plenty of contacts in the prison system. Contacts who could be convinced to arrange for an unfortunate accident to befall him.
Rickard clutches his injured hand to his chest. “You’re crazy!”
“No, I’m not. I know exactly what I’m doing. And if you don’t want more broken bones, you’ll keep talking.”
“Fine,” he blubbers. “Fine.”
From there, he tells us about the dawn of his idea to kidnap Eden. How he’d bring her to a little hunting cabin his family owns up north. Keep her locked up until she realized, in his words,that they were meant to be together.
He tearfully explains how he discovered the website on the dark web, and how it seemed like the perfect solution to his dilemma. “I thought about doing it myself, but if I could pay someone instead… it seemed safer.”
At that, I can’t contain my roar of rage. “Safer to hire a fucking killer to kidnap her? What if he took her for himself? What if he assaulted her? Hurt her? Killed her?”
The remaining color drains from his face. “I didn’t think about that,” he whispers. “I never wanted Eden to get hurt. I just wanted her for myself. She… she’d be relieved when I rescued her from the kidnapper. Grateful.”
Indy mutters a series of low curses. He doesn’t just look angry. He looks murderous.
“I want evidence,” I demand. “All of it.”
“No!” Rickard replies quickly. “No. I won’t—” He stops. Shudders. Swallows hard. “If I do, how do I know you won’t just kill me?”
“I won’t.” After a long pause, I add, “I want this over. I want Eden safe. So I give you my word, if you do what I ask, I won’t kill you.”
Now, at least.
But if he somehow gets off and comes after Eden again? Then I won’t hesitate to kill him.
Rickard glances at Indy. Then back at me. In a low, defeated tone, he asks, “What do you want me to do?”
“I want the phone you used,” I reply. “I want your laptop with all the photos I bet you have stored of Eden. I want to know about the hunting cabin. About your arrangement with your hired kidnapper.”
“Okay.” He nods. “Okay. I will.”
