Sin stepped away, letting go of Rand’s hand as the emergency staff loaded him on the helicopter and took flight.
Sin asked Jack and Gonzales to drive to the hospital. She wanted Rand protected, and she wanted someone onsite in case he was able to talk, if and when he woke up.
Jack wasn’t happy, but he didn’t object. “Call me if you need me,” he said, as he and Gonzales turned to leave.
Biting down on her lower lip, she nodded as Duggen approached.
“Any sign of the killer?” he asked.
His question brought Sin back into the reality of the situation. She shook her head. “He was definitely here but he’s gone now. I have a feeling Rand’s impromptu raid spooked him last night.”
“What gives you that idea?”
“Rand’s still alive. If our killer had been thinking straight, I have to believe that Rand would be dead.”
Duggen nodded and took a deep breath. “I want to thank you and your men for your help. Without your information and assistance, we could have walked into a massacre. If you don’t need Metcalf and King any longer, I could use their help with transport and clean up.”
Sin nodded. “Did you find what you were looking for?”
“That and more,” Duggen said. The head of the cartel, Manuel Castillo, was found and captured. We have the drugs, the money, and the man himself.”
Sin reached out and shook his hand, “I’m glad it all worked out,” she said before walking away.
“You didn’t tell him about the note,” Fletcher said, walking beside her.
“It doesn’t concern him.”
“What note?” Garcia said.
Sin reached over and handed Garcia the envelope she found on Rand’s body.
He opened it and read.
“What’s our plan?” Garcia asked, handing it back.
She turned. “The best defense is a good offense. We’re going to take this war straight to the son of a bitch.”
“Is that why we’re headed back to his hideout?” Fletcher asked.
“It’s not his hideout, it’s his home. But, yeah, that’s why we’re headed back.”
“You want to stake the place out?” Garcia asked.
“Nope,” Sin answered. She stopped walking and studied the campus, from the buildings to the mass of surrounding trees. “I just want to leave the freak a message. A little correspondence of my own.”
Fletcher grabbed Sin by the arm. “Talk to us. You’re talking in fucking riddles. And what the hell are you looking at?”
Sin opened the note that she felt had been left precisely for her, and read the words for the umpteenth time. You’re next!
“He knows this place better than anyone,” she answered. She continued to look around. “I can feel him watching us. He’s here. Somewhere. And we need to even the playing field. Take away his homefield advantage.”
“How?”
Her eyes narrowed as she shot a cold stare at Garcia. “Take away everything he holds near and dear”
“Frank’s not going to be happy with the destruction of the crime scene,” Fletcher said.
“Relax, we won’t have his possessions hauled away until after the scene is cleared.”
44
Ash had watched with unbridled glee as Sin first entered the mortuary building, although his joy was lessened when he realized Captain Rand was still alive.
The night before it had just been a matter of luck; good luck, he thought that Captain Rand had chosen to split from his men and came to check out the smaller buildings. When Rand entered, he struck him over the head with a pipe. While deciding whether to use Rand as a canvas, he’d heard voices and bullets. He grabbed a rope, choked Rand unconscious, and hid the body. Not knowing if his lair would be discovered, Ash decided to leave a threatening note in case anyone found the body, hoping to scare away any intruders.
Now, his mental state all but crumbled as he watched men carry away all of his possessions.
“I told you that agent was not someone to screw with,” she shrieked. “Now look what she’s done!”
Her taunting brought his anger to a boil. He was about to explode when he heard the FBI agent’s voice coming from outside.
“I know you’re here. I know you can hear me,” he heard her yell. “Let me tell you a few things while I have your attention. I know you were tortured by a sadistic bitch when you were young. I know you’re sick for a reason. But none of that matters to me.”
Ash peered through the wooden slats at Agent O’Malley as she continued to talk, able to make her out in the moonlight.
“That place you called home is now an empty shell, just like your life. That’s the reality you live in. Since I mentioned your reality,” she continued, “Let me tell you something else. I will find you. And I will kill you.”
He began to tremble as she turned to walk away. His tremors and breathing stopped when her footsteps ceased, and she spoke again.
“One more thing,” she paused, “your artwork is shit. You have no talent. Just like that sick, good-for-nothing, Miranda.”
Ash could feel her begin to come apart at the seams.
The FBI agent could have said anything and she would have been fine…anything but that.
“She wants to play!” she screeched. “Fine, we’ll play. We’ll kill that no good bitch, just like the rest of them.”
Ash’s knees grew weak, and he collapsed on the cold linoleum floor. Instinctively, he curled into a fetal position and covered his ears although he knew it would do him no good. He expected her rant to continue, but instead she began to recite the poem.
“Cruelty has a human heart, and jealousy a human face…”
By the time she got to the fourth line, he knew what he had to do.
“And secrecy the human dress. Secrecy is forged in iron…”
Ash was now on his feet reciting the mantra along with her. His direction was clear. He had to finish his work. He had to create the ultimate masterpiece regardless of people’s opinions.
“You have one more work,” she hissed. “One that will be remembered for a long time.”
45
“That was some crazy shit,” Fletcher said
