Page 30 of Royal
“We believe it plays into the vanity aspect,” Agent Stone answered. “He wants them to still appear beautiful, even in death.”
The agents surprised me. I’d expected them to come in and take over everything, but they instead respected the work we’d put in and workedwithus.
“Since the guy isn’t local, I’m going to check rental properties to see if any have been rented out recently,” I said. “He has to be staying somewhere.”
“We’ll check motels, too,” Ruby added.
It turned into another long day.
The check on rental properties led nowhere. There’d been a few rented out in the past month, but they’d been to families with children, newlyweds, and single people who didn’t fit the profile. It was harder to get information from the motels in the area, but when we finally did, it came back less than satisfactory, as well.
The killer must’ve been either living in his car, staying with someone, camped out in one of the multitudes of abandoned places in town, or deep in the woods somewhere.
Around midnight, I got into my car and left the station. The one positive thing that’d happened today was I learned Trevon Mills wasn’t going to be prosecuted for his dad’s death. The prosecutor agreed that it was self-defense, and the case had been closed. Trevon had been released and sent home to his mom.
Just one stream of sunlight in a shitty, dark sky.
When my phone rang, I checked the caller ID before answering.
“Hey, Aunt Abby.”
“I saw that the FBI came to town.”
“In a dream?” I asked before yawning.
“No, silly boy,” she scoffed, and I grinned. “On the news. I tell you what, that Royal is just as handsome as ever.”
He’d gone back to work? That was a bit of good news, I supposed.
“The feds are helping us with the investigation.” I pulled onto the main road, finding there weren’t many other cars around. Made sense, since it was a weeknight. “Don’t worry about it, okay?”
“Just…tell me you’ll be careful. My dreams have been intense as of late. More abstract, so I couldn’t make out faces or places, but the emotions were strong. Pain and sadness.”
She needed to watch more Disney movies or something instead of the weird shit and horror movies. No wonder she had bad dreams.
“I’ll be careful,” I said, not giving her worries much thought. “Goodnight.”
Once I got home, I stripped down and showered. Although I was tired, I wouldn’t be able to sleep otherwise. The case had me disgusted. No amount of scrubbing my skin could take away the sick feeling in my gut, though.
When I became a detective, I suspected I’d eventually get some tough cases, but I’d never imagined something like this.
Serial killers were the monsters on TV or in bestselling crime novels. They were the psychos you heard about who terrorized people in other states—not smack dab in the middle of your own town.
And just like the other day when I’d been too much in my head, I had the urge to reach out to Royal. But we weren’t close anymore.
I’d gone eight years without him. Eight years dealing with shit on my own. However, when Ruby and I stood on his doorstep the other day, and I’d seen him in person, something had shifted inside me. Emotions I’d buried began surfacing again, ones that made me want to say I was sorry for being an asshole that night at the party and beg him to take me back.
Beg him to forgive me for everything. For picking fights with him because I’d been terrified of the happy future he liked to talk about. I’d been afraid of him leaving me and thought it’d be better if I pushed him away first. I wanted to beg him to forgive me for getting drunk that night and dumping him over the phone before hooking up with a guy I hadn’t even liked. For breaking his heart and not being there when he’d needed me most.
I grabbed my phone and opened a new message to Royal. I’d called him a few times, but I didn’t know if he’d programmed my name into his contacts.
Me:It’s Grayson. Just checking in with you.
Royal:Grayson? Doesn’t ring a bell.
Despite the block of ice in my chest caused by all the shit I’d seen that day, I smiled at his text. Even just with words, he had a way of making me forget about the crap in my head.
Me:Oh? So you’re not the blue-eyed babe I saw the other night?
