Madison almost clapped her hands. “We’re collaborating? Oh, how fun! Do you have an image?”
“I do. So you know, it’s inside my jacket pocket.”
“Not going for a gun, huh?”
“No, I’m not, so don’t overreact.”
That he understood her capability flattered her. Few men would even acknowledge her talents, much less respect them.
Slowly he withdrew a small, crinkled photo and handed it over.
“Hmm.” Madison studied the black-and-white of a balding guy in slight profile, which showed a scraggly ponytail hanging down his neck. He had a very weak chin, an ugly smile and a few missing teeth. “I’m sorry, but he doesn’t look familiar.”
Kennedy gave up her suspicion of Crosby in favor of seeing the photo for herself. Silently, she stared at it. “Are you able to give a name to go with the image?”
Madison watched Kennedy more closely. She saw...maybe not actual recognition, but definitely a flash of something.
As if delivering a curse, Crosby muttered, “Rob Golly.”
Kennedy’s head jerked up. She stared in horror at Crosby, which brought him closer to her in a rush.
“You know him, don’t you?”
“No,” she said, stepping closer to Madison. “No, I don’t.”
Madison touched her arm. “But you’ve heard of him?” Was his a name she’d learned during her time being trafficked?
Or...was the bastard somehow tied to Jodi?
Starting to tremble, Kennedy asked, “Why are you looking for him?”
Crosby noted Kennedy’s unease and he solicitously indicated the chair.
Gripping the photo enough to add new wrinkles to it, Kennedy sank onto the cushion.
Madison chose a spot on the couch and patted the seat beside her.
Ignoring that, Crosby sat at the other end, as far from her as he could get, and retrieved the coffee. He sipped, no doubt using that time to formulate how much he wanted to share.
“You can tell me, you know,” Madison assured him. “I’m completely trustworthy.”
He shot her an incredulous look. “You’re completely...something. Trustworthy isn’t the word I’d use.”
Smart man. “Okay, give. Who is Rob Golly and why do you want him?”
Keeping his gaze on Kennedy, Crosby said, “I’ve been tracking him for a while. Over two years, actually. He’s a known abuser of women, the worst sort of scum you can imagine.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Madison murmured. “I have a very developed imagination.”
Kennedy gaped at her in horrified disbelief. “You’re treating this like a joke.”
Oh, my. Kennedy definitely knew something about the man. “I’m sincerely sorry,” she said, keeping her tone soft. “I never meant to make light of it.”
Kennedy firmed her lips and nodded.
Glancing at Crosby, Madison felt sure that he, too, saw how tightly strung Kennedy had gotten over the man. “Go on.”
He gave a small nod. “Golly moves around a lot, renting old houses where he’d keep women as prisoners. I finally tracked down his last house.”
Kennedy literally held her breath.
Until Crosby added, “But he wasn’t there.”
Covering her mouth with one hand, Kennedy frowned. “What do you mean, he wasn’t there? You had the wrong house?”
“Right house, but Golly was nowhere to be found.”
“How do you know it was the right house?” Madison asked.
“All the signs were there. A room in the basement meant to be a cell. A door with too damn many locks on it.” His right hand curled into a fist, and he rasped, “Blood on the floor.”
“That sounds horrid,” Madison whispered, no longer in a flirting mood.
“The worst nightmare a person could imagine.” Crosby sat forward, all his attention on Kennedy. “I had the right place, I know it. But Golly was gone, and so was his last victim.”
Kennedy said nothing, but her eyes went glassy with unshed tears.
Falling back on her training, Madison asked, “Did you check the yard? Sounds like old Golly might have a few bodies buried around the property.”
“Nothing at that house, but at another we found remains.”
Madison didn’t know how much longer Kennedy could hang on. She looked ready to implode, with fear, anger. Any minute now, Reyes would come crashing in and all hell would break loose. She would wait for him outside to warn him to behave, except that would mean leaving Kennedy alone with Crosby, and Reyes would be furious if she did that. If she took Kennedy with her, that would leave Crosby alone in Reyes’s house. Another sin in her brother’s eyes.
What to do?
“Tell me, Detective, when did you join the trafficking task force, and why were you tracking Golly in particular?” In her experience, most men enjoyed bragging. Not her brothers, not to strangers anyway, but for most other men it appeared to be a basic masculine trait.
Crosby surprised her silly by saying, “I’m not on a task force. My interest is personal, and you won’t distract me with your questions.” His smile looked the opposite of friendly, more like an issue of clear challenge. “I’d rather hear about you, your brothers and the head of it all, your father.”
CHAPTER NINE
REYES KEPT HIS foot pressed hard on the gas pedal, weaving in and out of traffic. With every minute that passed, every mile he covered, his blood burned hotter.
How fucking dare his sister let a stranger into his house? She knew better.
After he’d finished sparring with Cade, they’d both gone to their respective suites within their father’s immense mountain mansion to shower and change before meeting upstairs for drinks with Parrish. His father was keenly curious about Kennedy, and more than a little concerned about Reyes’s involvement with her.
He’d denied any involvement, of course.
Neither Cade nor Parrish had bought his denials. The McKenzies were razor-sharp and cut through BS like a hot knife through butter.
Reyes had geared up for the inquisition, especially when he informed Bernard that he’d be bringing Kennedy over to visit Chimera the cat. Then her text had come in, and his only thought had been getting to her.
Cade had made the spur-of-the-moment decision to follow him home, just in case there was real trouble, while Parrish had told Reyes to trust Madison.
Right. Logic told him that the cop likely wasn’t a stranger to his sister, but at the moment he didn’t care.