Deadly Bonds (18 page)

* * *

The street was dark, the moon behind the clouds, as Holt picked his way across the strip of grass that separated Mrs. Mendelson’s house from his.

“It’s probably nothing,” the guard said from behind him. “I didn’t see anyone come or go.”

“Just keep your gun drawn.” Holt continued toward the front door. A perfectly round orange pumpkin was flanked by two pots of purple mums on the porch.

“You think Toxin would go after an old lady?”

He hoped to hell not. He hoped she was simply injured. But if Mrs. Mendelson was in trouble... He racked his brain, trying to remember her first name. He
should
remember her first name. They’d been neighbors for years. Elizabeth had always been friendly with her. The woman had brought over a casserole for Theo and Holt after Elizabeth passed. And she walked her dog Roscoe every evening at precisely five-fifteen.

So why couldn’t he remember her name?

Holt stopped at the door and turned to the security guard. “Make your way around back. See what the dog’s barking about. I don’t want to scare Mrs. Mendelson if everything’s okay. And keep an eye out for anyone approaching my house.” Sara was strong. She would use the gun if she needed to—he just didn’t want her to have to take a life to save herself.

As the man disappeared around the edge of the house, Holt knocked on the door and waited. Counted to thirty. Told himself that would be plenty of time for a healthy woman to get out of bed and to the door.

The doorknob turned easily in his hand and the door swung inward. The hairs on his neck rose as his brain silently raised the alarm. Mrs. Mendelson was always good about locking her doors. They’d even had a conversation about it, when she’d found out what he did for a living. She’d picked his brain about the monsters who masqueraded as normal people in society. She hadn’t trusted easily, yet her door was unlocked.

The kitchen was dark, but the sliver of light from the window indicated nobody was there. It was the soft light coming from the living room up ahead that drew him. And the silence. Roscoe had stopped barking, and Holt hoped to hell it was because the guard had calmed him. He hoped even more that it was because there was nothing to bark about.

But the stillness indicated something was horribly wrong. As if there was no life in the house, but there should be. Or somebody was holding his breath, waiting for him to discover something. His gaze was in constant motion, surveying the corners and doorways as he moved toward the light. There, his fears were realized. In the circle cast by a table lamp, Mrs. Mendelson lay, facedown, on her living room carpet. A pool of blood had formed around her head. The edge of the pool nearly touched a hypodermic syringe.

A tapping on glass had him looking up. A dark figure stood outside the sliding back door, with Roscoe’s shaking form pressed against his leg.

The guard slid the door open. “Unlocked. Must be how he came and went since I didn’t see him out front.” His gaze landed on Mrs. Mendelson’s body.

Whimpering, Roscoe pushed his way past the guard’s legs. The pug headed straight for his owner, but Holt scooped him up before he could get to her. “Poor Roscoe,” he murmured, stroking the quivering mass. “I’m sure you would have destroyed Toxin if you’d had the chance.” He turned to the guard, who still had his gun in his hand. “Check out the house. He may still be here.” But he doubted it. Holt withdrew his cell phone from his pocket and dialed 9-1-1 to report the murder. Then he phoned Noah. “Toxin killed my neighbor, this time in a fit of rage.”

Noah cursed. “I’m stuck at another scene but will be there as soon as possible. Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Except his stomach was twisting and his head was spinning. It could so easily have been him—or Sara—who Toxin chose to release his rage upon. It wasn’t any better that it was the innocent Mrs. Mendelson. “I’ve got to check on Sara. Call me when you get here.”

With Roscoe still wriggling in his arms, Holt hung up and raced out, his only thought on making sure Sara was safe. He planned to hold her against him until this horrible feeling—this premonition he would lose everyone he cared about—was gone. She seemed the only one capable of restoring the bright light of hope.

* * *

The light and shadow in the room shifted as the screen’s image changed. There, the animated woman with an accentuated hourglass figure kissed her buffed-out hero, rewarding him for saving her life.
Success.
But temporary victory over a video game didn’t relieve the angry ache that gnawed at Toxin. And beating an old woman to death with a fireplace poker hadn’t worked, either. Had Holt discovered her yet? Was he smothered by guilt?

Toxin turned his attention to a different computer screen and scrolled through the images he’d captured earlier that night, having to settle for hacking into the security cameras SSAM had set up and recording events at the banquet. He couldn’t very well be there in person when Holt would be watching for him.

But the waiter had done his job. And the poor schmuck hadn’t known what hit him. He’d died with his palm outstretched, waiting for his payment in that dark alley. He’d even demanded extra for his
trouble.
His payment had been delivered via syringe.

On the screen, Toxin again watched Rochard drinking the poison. When he toppled to the floor, Sara rushed to the asshole’s side, her body movements conveying concern. His breath caught, as it had many times, as he came to the image of her bending over Rochard, worry etched in the lines of her face—worry for an egomaniac who had wanted to ruin her. Tender and compassionate, she was the perfect complement for a hero like Toxin. Together, they could save the world and avenge his son’s death.

Unfortunately, Holt had chosen tonight to finally stop being a pussy and try to be Sara’s hero. The memory of what Toxin had seen through Holt’s kitchen window...and the image of what must have followed that passionate embrace...made Toxin’s blood boil.

It should have been
him
kissing Sara.
He
deserved her.
He’d
orchestrated everything that led to the intimacy he’d witnessed.

Though Toxin could no longer see them when they’d gone upstairs, it hadn’t taken a genius to know what was next.

Everything—
every goddamned thing
—Holt possessed was because of
him.

He threw the game controller across the room. It landed next to the box he’d brought home earlier that day. The shipment was ready. Syringes and the neurotoxins Henry had prepared were ready for the final act in this play. He had to see it through. It was the only way. True heroes never rested until full justice was meted out.

Poison.
The world was full of it. All that was good and right had been sucked out of reality, and it was his job to show certain people how they poisoned everyone else’s existence. He would be the toxin that wiped out all the others. With the amount of venomous shit being injected in the world, he didn’t think his mission would ever be complete.

One thing at a time.

He deserved some happiness after what he’d done. With Sara and Theo by his side, he would tackle the rest of the world more easily. And
he
would appreciate them.

Toxin smiled. He would have to wait to claim Sara, but not for much longer. He was ready, and what he had planned would wow her in a way that would win her heart. The grand gesture, like in the movies. The payoff for hours of hard work, like completing a video game.

In the meantime, Toxin knew someone who could make the pain go away, even if for a few brief hours. His reliance on Henry was becoming a liability. Someday, when he didn’t need him any longer, he’d rectify that. For now, though, Henry was part of the big finale.

And tonight...tonight he’d find oblivion with Henry’s help. He’d be with Sara and his son, a family, in his dreams. Soon, he’d make it a reality.

* * *

“Three murders in one night,” Damian confirmed over the phone.

Holt touched a hand to his aching head and sat at the end of his bed. He’d returned from Mrs. Mendelson’s home to find Sara where he’d left her, though dressed now in pajama bottoms and a tank top. His gun had been left on the bedside table, within reach. She was sitting propped against her pillows, trying to read, but the lines in her forehead told another story. She’d heard Damian.

Three?
she mouthed. He nodded and she shuddered.

“Mrs. Mendelson, John Rochard, and the waiter,” Holt said.

“If Sara’s there,” Damian said, “you might save some time by putting me on speaker phone.”

He pressed the button so Sara could hear Damian too. “We’re listening. Go ahead.”

“How do we know Mrs. Mendelson was one of Toxin’s victims?” Sara asked.

“Toxin left his calling card.” Holt recalled the horror of finding Mrs. Mendelson’s body. Though still melancholy, Roscoe’s shock seemed to have diminished somewhat, and the dog was currently settled on the cozy rug at Holt’s feet.

“But why Mrs. Mendelson?”

He had a feeling Sara was going to take this next bit of information hard, so he reached out and took her hand. “Remember when we were in the kitchen?”

“Yes.” Her tone was questioning. Suddenly, shock widened her eyes. “Toxin was watching us?” He saw the exact moment when she realized what he’d probably seen. Her skin paled.

“Probably from the back fence.”

“But if he wanted you and me together, why get angry? Why kill Mrs. Mendelson?”

“Either he didn’t like what he saw, or he changed his mind.” Something had made him angry enough to deviate from his normal methods and kill a woman with his bare hands.

“Noah’s been apprised of the situation,” Damian informed them. “He’ll take over processing the scene at the Mendelson home and interview neighbors, then meet us at SSAM later today.”

“I’ll drop Sara and Theo off at the school in a few hours and be at SSAM in time for the meeting with an updated version of Toxin’s profile.”

“Get some rest until Noah gets there. It’s going to be a long day.”

Holt hung up the phone and reached for Sara, who immediately folded herself against his side. She was shaking and he held her tighter.

“I don’t know how you do it.”

With a finger, he lifted her chin to look into her eyes. “Do what?”

“Deal with violent, sadistic killing on a regular basis.”

“It doesn’t always hit this close to home.” He looked away, dropping his hand. “Just recently. And any kind of death is hard.”

“Elizabeth,” Sara said, empathizing with the complexity of his emotions. “It must be tough, all of this loss.”

“No tougher than when you lost your parents.”

“It’s different.”

Yeah, she hadn’t had a little boy to console. Then again, she’d been Theo’s rock this past year. “Still difficult.”

“I wish I could help.” Her earnestness had him pulling away. He couldn’t put her through any more, especially not tonight.

“You can help by getting some rest. Theo’s going to need both of us when he learns about Mrs. Mendelson.”

“What are you going to do about Roscoe?”

The dog’s head lifted off the carpet at the mention of his name and sent a sad gaze their way. Reassured that they were still with him, he sank back down again. Holt couldn’t leave the dog by himself all day. “I don’t know.”

“Did Mrs. Mendelson have any relatives who would take him in?”

“No.” She’d been a lonely woman. And Roscoe had been great company for her. He deserved a devoted, loving family.

She curled her feet under her on the bed. “Bring him with us.”

“What?”

“I’ll keep him at the school until we can find him a home.”

Her generous heart continued to surprise him. His chest swelled with some unnamed emotion he was afraid to examine. It was too much like love.

* * *

Holt’s phone vibrated against his hip, waking him from a light doze to a foreign feeling. Contentment. He should have been exhausted, but the short rest, combined with his eagerness to get back to the crime scene and find justice for Mrs. Mendelson, had him alert in no time. Noah’s text indicated he’d gained clearance to have Holt at the scene. He slipped his arm out from under Sara’s neck and resettled her on the pillow. She moaned lightly but curled into her pillow without waking. Again he left his gun for her on the bedside table.

Locking the house behind him, he crossed the dark yard to the neighboring home. He moved past an officer in uniform and found Noah, the coroner, and a detective from the Evanston Police Department standing near the body.

“You discovered the body?” Noah asked.

“I heard her dog barking and came over. The door was unlocked.”

“Coroner says the blows to the head likely killed her. Not his usual MO. What do you make of that?”

Holt knew exactly what to make of it. “He was angry. He probably hadn’t planned to commit another murder tonight. He may even have been impulsive enough to leave fingerprints.”

“The crime techs will be here any minute to dust for prints. What made him so angry that he killed your neighbor? Why not you, or Sara?”

“Mrs. Mendelson was easy pickings. I think he has other plans for me. In fact, he probably knew
this
—knowing I was responsible for someone dying—would hurt me more than quickly ending my life.” Just as Sara felt after Rochard’s death.

“But what drove Toxin over the edge?”

“Dissatisfaction with how things went between me and Sara tonight.”

“I thought you did what he wanted.”

Remembering the feel of Sara’s hips beneath his fingertips, and her mouth beneath his, Holt knew without a doubt what had driven the man into a rage. Raw jealousy. “I don’t think he knew
what
he wanted. Not until he saw it, just out of reach.”

* * *

Holt found Sara in his bathroom, packing up her toiletry bag.

“Hope you don’t mind me using your shower.” She caught his eye in the mirror and a furrow formed on her forehead. “Are you okay?”

Her hair was still wet from a shower, her skin pink, but she was dressed and looking refreshed despite only a few hours of sleep. “I’ll be okay. I just want to get you back under Becca’s watch so I can hunt this guy.” And maybe beat him into the ground. Perhaps a couple hours in the SSAM gym was needed to work off some of this adrenaline.