A Raging Dawn (24 page)

His father was a psychopath, his half-brother a sadistic serial killer. I’d seen Devon kill, but it had been in the heat of battle. We’d been fighting for our lives. I wanted to believe he wasn’t like Leo or Daniel. I’d seen true compassion in Devon, had seen how he’d sacrificed everything for those he loved.

“No,” I finally answered his question. “It’s wrong. Those victims deserve justice, not vengeance.”

“They left Jacob for dead. Your family might be next.”

I looked away, squinting into the bright lights reflecting from the stainless steel counters. “I know. But if we start randomly killing men based on Littleton’s word, where does it all stop? We don’t even know for sure that Manny is involved.” I shook my head. “Who’s to say Littleton’s not setting Manny up as one of their victims and using you as the proxy this time?”

“Guess that’s up to me to find out.”

“How?”

“I’ll pay Manny a visit myself.”

It was clear that the type of visit he had in mind didn’t involve hospitality gifts.

“Devon. No. What if Littleton is playing us? What if it’s part of their twisted game?”

“One other way to find out.” He pulled out a small plastic bottle containing pink capsules. The PXA that Louise had prescribed me. “Found this at your place. Not sure who you were planning to use it on, but why not Littleton? Then you can read his mind, find the truth. Protect your family. Get justice for Jacob and Tymara, those folks from the school. That’s what you want, isn’t it? Justice?”

I stared at the bottle. Pharmaceutical grade. More than enough PXA to put a man Littleton’s size out for hours and induce the kind of coma I could reach. To have Littleton’s memories polluting my mind? On top of the nightmare horrors that I already carried, thanks to Leo? I really would be better off dead.

“You said no one could lie when you’re inside their head,” Devon persisted, his voice dipping, low and insidious. “Got a better way?”

“No.” I grabbed the bottle, shoved it into my pocket. “No. I won’t. I can’t. You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“Same as what you’re asking me. I’m taking care of what needs taking care of.” He shook his head as if disappointed in me. “You know what you are, doc? A hypocrite. At least I’m honest about who I am and what I’m willing to do to stand up for what I believe in. You talk a good game about protecting the innocent, but you won’t put your money where your mouth is.”

“Go to hell,” I snapped.

“Oh, I am.” His teeth sparked as he flashed a grin. “Just want to be sure I take some company with me.”

We stood in silence for a long moment.

“Why is this so important to you? That I go along with what you want?”

“You saw what they did to Jacob,” he said. “What they made us watch.”

“This isn’t about justice. This is about your stupid wounded pride.” He didn’t deny it. “Jacob is the last man on earth who would want vengeance. He believes in justice, the law.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “Even more than Ryder. Don’t get me wrong. Ryder’s a good guy—good for you, especially. But Jacob…he’s…decent. Probably the most honest, decent man I’ve ever met.”

I couldn’t trust my voice, so I simply nodded.

“That’s why this has to be done,” Devon finished. “Because a guy like Jacob—he’d never do it himself. That’s why men like him need men like me, even if they don’t want to admit it. Someone’s gotta take out the trash.”

He pushed off from the wall, his decision made. I reached for his arm. “Devon, no. You’re better than this. Call Ryder. He can help. See if Littleton is telling the truth.”

“I will. I promise. Once it’s over. I can’t take the chance they’ll walk free.” He pulled away from me. “Go home, Angela. Or wait here with Gena and her client. They aren’t going anywhere until I check things out for myself.”

“I’ll go with you then.” Maybe I could keep him from doing something he’d regret.

He shook his head. “No. You don’t want no part of this. Call Ryder if you want. But think what these guys did to Jacob, what they could still do to him and others if we don’t put an end to them. Now.”

I reached for my phone, pulled up Ryder’s number. My finger hovered over it, but God help me, I couldn’t press it. My vision blurred, and all I could see was the alley, the men beating Jacob, his sobs of pain, his blood mixing with the dirt and grime…

I put my phone away. Devon didn’t smile or meet my eyes. He wasn’t triumphant, more like resigned. “We all do what we need to do.”

RYDER FOCUSED FIRST
on Littleton’s past. He started as far back as possible. Found not only a sealed juvie record but also numerous earlier adjudications removing Littleton from his biological parents. Five times before Littleton was eleven and he was permanently placed in a group home.

The family court cases were sealed as well, but there were several social worker summaries available. They didn’t make for pretty reading. Both parents were meth users and alcoholics. Mom supplemented the family income by turning tricks. A younger sibling had died under suspicious circumstances when the house burned down in a methamphetamine-related explosion. Hints of further abuse of every kind. All this before the kid was eleven.

Given his background, the fact that as an adult Littleton held a steady job and had never been convicted of anything more serious than criminal trespass should have been a testament to the success of the juvenile system—if Ryder hadn’t met the rat-faced bastard in person, seen the way he enjoyed wreaking havoc with his mind games. Littleton might look like an upstanding citizen on paper, but Ryder knew the truth.

He might not have killed Tymara or the people at the school, but he was a sadistic son of a bitch just the same.

Ryder was surprised that when he searched Sylvie Wysycki’s name on his computer, the first results were visits she’d made to the Advocacy Center, all for physical assaults from a partner. She’d spoken with the center’s social workers but had declined to name her abuser or make an official police report.

The ninety percent of the iceberg that was domestic violence, usually invisible to law enforcement.

In Wysycki’s case, she received treatment for her injuries—several times from Rossi, he noted—as well as counseling, including a referral to a safe house. After four more ER visits over ten months, she finally went. A follow-up note from the social worker said that she’d left her abuser, severing all ties.

It was dated two weeks ago. Long enough for her abuser’s sadistic anger to simmer and boil over at the school tonight.

Maybe all that anger at Tymara’s murder scene this morning hadn’t been directed at Tymara, but rather at Wysycki? If Littleton’s partner had killed Tymara in a warped tit-for-tat, it made sense he would do to his proxy victim, Tymara, everything he wished for his real-life target, Wysycki.

Talk about your co-dependent relationships. Littleton and his so-called brother were more than friends, trusted each other more than most family, the roots of their violence twisted together. Which meant time to grow and nurture that relationship. A lot of time.

He switched to the law enforcement databases. Wysycki’s only offense was the prescription-drug thefts from last spring. Felony charges, but a first offense, so instead of jail time, she’d received shock probation. Then he saw the attorneys involved: Gena Kravitz for the defense; Manny Cruz for the prosecution. Figured. Talk about your friends with benefits.

Good thing he had friends in high places as well. As if just the thought of Rossi conjured her, his phone rang. “Great timing, I was just going to call you. Everything okay?”

“I’m home, safe and sound. Everything’s fine,” she answered, sounding rushed, as if she’d just walked in the door. Strange, because she and Price should have made it back to her apartment an hour ago. Maybe Price had been able to get her to eat something. He was good with Rossi, persuading her to take care of herself even when she didn’t feel like it. “Why were you going to call me? Is Jacob—”

“Still in surgery as far as I know. Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Can I ask a question about an Advocacy Center case you worked on? The patient is dead, if that makes a difference.”

He could almost hear her frown. “Is this to help Jacob?”

“In a way, yes. The patient was Sylvie Wysycki. She’s the woman the school massacre centered on. Do you remember treating her?” He gave her the dates.

After a pause, she answered. “Yes. I think so. What do you need to know?” She sounded hesitant. Worried about patient-confidentiality rules, no doubt.

“Can you tell me anything about her abuser? I’m guessing he might be Littleton’s partner.”

“She never gave us a name.”

“Okay, it was a long shot—”

“Wait. She did say one thing.” Again with the hesitation that was so unlike her. “What makes you think her abuser is working with Littleton?”

He explained his theory about Littleton and his partner trading off violent attacks. “As if it’s a game or something. Anyway, just like Littleton raping Tymara started all this, I thought Wysycki leaving her abuser two weeks ago could have triggered the school attack. It would have taken that long to plan, coordinate with Littleton’s trial. But I’ll bet Littleton and our other actor knew each other going back a long, long time. So when I saw you’d treated Wysycki, I hoped—”

“She said her partner was an attorney,” she interrupted. “Said that’s why she couldn’t press charges or get a restraining order.”

“A lawyer?” He would have guessed another blue-collar worker like Littleton.

“Was Manny Cruz ever involved with Littleton? I mean, have you seen any suspicion that Manny could be involved?”

“Involved in these cases?” Now he was truly surprised. “Cruz? Why would you think that?”

“Littleton said he was one of his partners. Said he helped rape Tymara.”

“Was Manny one of the men who attacked Jacob tonight?” His tone was brusque, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“No. They wore masks, but, no, I don’t think so. But Littleton said there was a group of them, all rich, well connected. Said Manny was the only one he could identify.”

“When the hell did you see Littleton?”

“Devon was the one who convinced Gena to take his case. He called her, and she arranged a meeting.”

He bit down on his anger. Price was supposed to take her home, keep her safe. Not start playing vigilante. “Tell me everything.”

“That’s it. Really. Except, Devon’s on his way to Manny’s now. And after seeing what they did to Jacob, he’s not exactly in a talking mood.”

“Shit, Rossi, why didn’t you call me?”

“I did, I am.”

“I mean before you went to meet with a rapist,” he snapped.

“I’m sorry. I should have. I almost did. But—”

“But you trust Price to get the job done more than you trust me.”

“It’s not you I don’t trust. But if Manny is involved, there’s a good chance others in a position of power are as well, and you already almost lost your job after what happened last month.”

“This isn’t about protecting my job, and you damn well know it.”

“It’s crazy, right? Manny couldn’t be involved with a man like Littleton. Doing that to Tymara—or Jacob.”

“Or the people at the school. Christ, Rossi, if you’d seen them…” He trailed off as he remembered the way Manny had interrupted just as Littleton had been ready to talk to Ryder. And the way he caved in to Gena’s demands earlier today.

“You think it could be him,” Rossi said.

“I think I’d better get over to Manny’s before Devon Price screws up any chance of our finding out for certain.” He grabbed his coat and shut down the computer. “Are you sure you’re okay there?”

“Just walked in my front door, safe and sound. Seriously, don’t worry about me. But Ryder—”

He winced, knowing what she was going to say before she said it. Something about taking it easy on Price, no doubt. That his heart was in the right place even if his methods crossed the line. He’d never understand how she and Price got to be so close. There was some invisible bond between the two that defied reason.

“What?” he snapped.

“Please be careful.” She hung up before he could say anything more.

He slammed out the door, his anger directed as much at himself as Price and Littleton and everyone else involved in this fucked-up bloodbath of a night. How many more innocent people had to die?

<<<>>>

I HUNG UP
from Ryder and glanced at the kitchen clock. Eleven twenty-seven. I’d ended the day almost exactly where I’d begun it: exhausted, wide awake, and staring at Tahiti sunsets. I felt hollowed out, empty. Somewhere along the way, during this miserable, harrowing, blood-drenched day, I’d lost something.

Mechanically, lacking any appetite, I prepared a protein shake, the whir of the blender the only noise in the apartment. With the bar closed, the building was empty except for me. It was the first time I’d been alone—truly and utterly alone—in weeks.

I missed Ozzie’s snoring. More than that, I missed Ryder.

I called the hospital and checked in with the OR charge nurse. Jacob was still in surgery. They’d found some additional internal bleeding, were removing his spleen. She hoped he’d be in the ICU in a few hours.