“I’m not risking anything but them surviving if we deviate now, Jake. Have a little faith. I’m better than them. They’ve not even laid a hand on me.”
His lips thin, and his gaze flicks to the bullet graze on my bandaged cheek, but he doesn’t argue as we pack our separate vehicles with the paint.
“Quit dawdling. We have an entire town to terrorize,” I say when I know he’s about to press the issue.
He’s worried about me surviving.
I see a life too empty to be concerned with the notion of survival.
Chapter 10
The road to perdition has ever been accompanied by lip service to an ideal.
—Albert Einstein
LOGAN
“You’re fucking kidding me,” I snap, glaring at Johnson as he pokes his chest out, posturing like a motherfucking gorilla about to beat the damn thing.
“You have your orders. You and the rest of your team are to return to Quantico. The director signed off on it. That’s what happens when you stray from the current case to work on a closed case from ten years ago, while people continue to die in this town. Four people in one night died, and you didn’t even bother to ask any questions. Nor did you bother to show up to where all the officers set up to canvas the surrounding woods in that area.”
Donny grips me before I can launch myself at the smug son of a bitch smirking at me.
I brush Donny off, grabbing my phone as I walk out the door, ignoring the stupid fucking deputy who has the audacity to act like he’s going to lead me to one of the SUVs.
Collins finally answers, and I immediately start snapping at him.
“You’re letting this happen? You’re letting them pull us out so they can do what? Launch a new witch hunt like the one they did ten years ago? It’s obvious they didn’t learn their lesson. You’re really going after a pro athlete with a fucking lawyer girlfriend?”
Collins heaves out a breath. “It’s out of my hands, and the girlfriend already knew about the intent to arrest before it was ever decided. Obviously they have a leak, and she’s pretty much squashed their entire case. It’s not going to be like last time.”
There’s no fucking leak. Lana or Jake knew this was coming and warned them through Diana most likely. Or in a way that didn’t give them away. Or maybe they just don’t care who knows at this point and are gambling more.
They can’t manufacture evidence this time, because Diana’s son has airtight alibies. It’d be too obvious.
“Get back,” Collins says.
“Fuck that. I’m not going anywhere.”
“You have to, Logan,” he says, exasperated. “The director has called a meeting to see about having you removed from all your duties, pending an investigation into your actions. He’s claiming your entire team is compromised and exhibiting signs of empathy with the killer. He even said you helped a woman and child leave town, despite her husband’s murder, along with two other murders in her home, before you even reported the latter two murders. I told you to be discreet when looking into the past case. You ignored me.”
“So you’re playing politics. I thought you were better than that. And the woman had no hand in those murders. Someone else acted on her behalf in self-defense. Those men were sent to silence Cheyenne Murdock.”
He grows quiet for a moment, and I turn to see the rest of my team already packing up, giving in so easily. I can’t fucking leave Lana in this town. I’ll quit and stay here on my own if they try to make me.
“I’m not playing politics, but I do have to play their game until I can see if that evidence you recovered is enough. If you don’t leave and return to us willingly, Johnson will arrest you for obstruction, and I can’t save you from anything while you’re there. It could be too late before I get there. Don’t risk it. It’s not worth it. Keep a lid on what you’ve discovered. Just come back. Don’t let them toss you in one of their cells. You know what that town is capable of.”
My eyes rake over the men here. No doubt Lana wouldn’t trust me to take care of myself if I was locked up here. Too many violent memories from the past would have her risking her life to come after me.
And that’s the only reason I won’t risk it.
“Fine,” I bite out. “But you better have this resolved by the time I return so I can come right back.”
“I’m trying, Logan. I really am. Just give me some time to—”
A loud white noise sound comes over the speakers, and my eyes flick to the television in the living room. I vaguely remember the only innocent deputy telling me the sheriff owned the television network service, and he had a special broadcasting ability.
But that’s not him broadcasting.
“Logan?” Collins prompts, but I ignore him as I walk into the living room, watching the slideshow unfold on the television. It’s just a few pictures of the town at sunset, all of them flicking around at random.
A voice comes on, speaking like the damn creepy voice from SAW.
“Citizens of Delaney Grove. It’s time to purge the town. You have until sunset to leave…to save yourself. We’re claiming this town now. For your sins, you shall repent. For your past, you shall endure the nightmares you caused. And for your eyes that you closed so willingly, now you shall see.”
The slideshow starts to make sense, and my stomach roils as I see a familiar young girl and boy on the street. Someone fucking recorded this?
A younger version of Kyle Davenport appears in front of them, and the screen cuts to Victoria on the ground, and Marcus right behind her. His screams almost make me heave as he begs them to stop, but Victoria fights. She fights with all the limited strength she has.
They hold her down.
Thirteen to two.
Their fingers dig into her arms to restrain her. All ten fingers. Which is why she cuts them off.
“Someone fucking stop this!” the sheriff barks, running out of one of the cabins. “Call Hank and tell him to pull the plug now!”
“He’s trying!” a deputy shouts back. “The sick fuck is overriding the system.”
The screen cuts away from the horrors, like whoever was filming got too tired to keep on, and the next screen is that of Robert Evans suffering a fate just as sickening.
I turn my head away as the deputies do their worst on the screen.
“Now!” the sheriff shouts. “You have to kill it now!”
He’s on the phone, but I barely notice him, because my attention turns back to the TV when the voice comes on again.
“Hear no evil.”
The black screen is blank, but several screams of agony are coming out loud and clear.
“See no evil.”
The screen lights up with both disturbing movies playing side by side on a split screen.
Then the screen fades to black again, before a cloaked silhouette comes into view. All you can see is the dark hood. The face is nothing more than a shadow as a red-gloved hand comes up. One finger extends, covering the spot where the lips would be if you could see them, making the universal ‘shush’ sign.
“Speak no evil.”
The screen goes blank again, then lights up with images of different people as they watch their TV. Screams and panic erupt. It’s like the jumbo-tron at ballgames flicking to different people, and them noticing it on a delay. Only instead of excitement, there’s pure horror when they see their faces.