The Enemy Inside (45 page)

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Authors: Vanessa Skye

BOOK: The Enemy Inside
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“It’s over, Captain—or should I call you Janet? You’ve got nowhere to go.”

Leigh laughed coldly. “That name means nothing to me. Janet died alone in the woods thirty years ago. And it’s not over, not even close. I’m disappointed at your lack of foresight, Alicia. Pity, I had it all planned. I had been made chief, and I was going to name you captain. Just think of what we could have done from those positions of power to rid the world of predators.”

Berg shook her head is disbelief.

“Oh well. We’ll just go to plan B. And make no mistake, there is a plan B, Alicia. I have been waiting a long time for you.” Leigh paused for a moment. “I must admit, it was a bit of a shock when my girls brought back your partner here instead of that desiccated old liar,” she said. “I was greatly looking forward to cutting out his tongue after months of playing with him and sending him the photos of his dead
boys
. Pity. But we’ve had some fun, haven’t we?”

Berg heard her again prod Jay with the gun. She shifted slightly, sneaking a peak under her left arm. Leigh was still standing over Jay. The gun, however, was now held loosely in her hand.
 

Berg felt sickened as she saw how much blood he had lost. Some of it was still trickling down the drain underneath his chair. His eyes were black and swollen shut. One of his arms looked broken, and one ankle was twisted at an odd angle. His shirt was open, and blood seeped from what looked like an endless array of knife wounds all over his body. There was also a strange citrus scent mingling with the blood in the air.

“Face away, please, Alicia,” Leigh said in a singsong tone but with heavy threat in her voice. “I don’t want to have to end our party early by putting a bullet in your partner’s brain. And I will, without hesitation.”
 

Berg believed her. She faced away, hands still clasped at the back of her head. But her mind was racing, seeking some kind of opportunity to get Jay out of the room.
 

“Where was I?” Leigh asked. “Oh yes. As I was saying, I have done what I set out to achieve, bar one tiny task that I’ll have you take care of shortly . . .”

“And what’s that? They’re all dead; there’s nothing left to do.”

 
“All in good time. Tell me, Alicia. When you found out what they did to me, were you disappointed that you didn’t get to punish them yourself?”
 

Berg tried to ignore her singsong voice and the constant, irritating use of her name.
 

“They all suffered adequately. They made thirty years of waiting worth it. I’m sorry you missed it. I have a feeling you would have enjoyed it.”

“Why?” Berg asked. “Why go to such extreme lengths?”

“Haven’t I made that clear? Twenty years of dedicated police service to serve one purpose and one purpose only—to hunt them down and make them
pay
. I could have named them back when it happened. Perhaps they would even have gone to prison if anyone had believed me, but this way was so much more fun, don’t you think?”

Berg didn’t know how to respond to that.
 

“Besides, the police who interviewed me in the hospital were bastards,” she said. “They assumed I’d asked for it. A young woman with no name and no family—they couldn’t have cared less. No, this was better. I made them wait. I let them think they got away with it. Then, when they least expected it, I ripped their lives away from them like they did to me. Of course, they all knew exactly what they were dying for in the end. The first one, in particular, appreciated the justice of experiencing the weapon he so enjoyed using on me.”
 

Leigh’s voice trailed off as she relived their torturous deaths. “Unfortunately, that part of my life is over now. Time for the next chapter. I think I’ll pick an exotic name next. What do you think of Nadia?”

“You’re sick.”

“I’m sick?” Leigh asked, her voice rising for the first time.

“Yes! What about Alan Winchester and Mark Dell? Stella?”

“Alan, I agree, was regrettable, but he should have left Amelia on the road to do her job. Nobody asked him to get involved. If it makes you feel better, he didn’t suffer,” Leigh said. “Mark was no innocent, though. He was a lovely little tidbit for me, very enjoyable. That reporter, well, after the leak that ended Consiglio’s career, I couldn’t have her telling anyone that was me.”

Berg grimaced in disgust. “So why change the database and delete those entries for Taylor and McEnery? If you left Taylor’s DNA intact in the database, he would have been caught for the various rapes and sent to prison . . .”

“Why would I want him, or the drugged one, in prison where I couldn’t get to them? I’m sure you’ll agree my style of justice is much more fitting than a few years in a cell?”

“If Taylor had gone to prison again, he wouldn’t have raped all those women. By setting him free, you helped him!”

“Casualties of war. A few had to be sacrificed for the greater good. Besides, he left me lots of lovely recruits.”
 

“You’re fucked,” Berg said.
 

“You think so? Do you know what they did to me?”

Berg didn’t answer, unwilling to show Leigh any understanding.

“I’m sure you know the basics. But do you know I was a virgin before the attack? Do you know that my legs were tied so far apart and so tightly they tore my ligaments? Do you know I will never have children? That I’ll never have a normal sex life? Not that I would want one,” she said, almost to herself.
 

Berg remained silent, but Leigh was on a roll, bitterness filling her voice.
 

“Do you know how I begged,
begged
for my life and they just laughed and called me a whore? Do you know that thanks to that old liar, they were not so much as questioned over my disappearance, meanwhile I was painted as a hitchhiking slut?” Leigh broke off, breathing heavily. “No. You don’t know anything.”

“It was horrible,” Berg replied. “It’s the worst thing I’ve ever come across in my career as a police officer, no doubt. No one deserves what you went through, and those animals deserved to be punished. But your kind of revenge is macabre.”

Leigh snorted. “Please. At the end of the day revenge is all there
is.

 

Berg could hear her walking around the small room as she spoke.
 

“It motivates everybody, every day. Revenge is what we all eat, sleep, and breathe in some way.” She stopped, moving closer to Berg. “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t like to go back in time for a few moments to exact some well-deserved revenge on your stepfather,” she whispered. “Don’t tell me that’s not why you became a cop in the first place. We actually have a lot in common, you and I.”
 

Berg looked up involuntarily, shocked.
 

“Oh yes,” Leigh said. “I know all about your past, Alicia. I know all about what
Daddy
did. I know what you would like to do to him,” she whispered. “I can see it on your face. I know in your deepest, darkest moments that you fantasize about what you would do to him to make him scream . . .”
 

Berg screwed her eyes shut, trying not to remember how she lay on her couch only twenty-four hours ago and fantasized about his slow, painful death. “I am not you.”

“I looked into his death, you know. Your
daddy
died much earlier than the doctors’ predictions. But he was riddled with cancer, so no autopsy was required. Tell me,” Leigh said, almost getting close enough to whisper in Berg’s ear. “What did it feel like when you killed him? Did you finally feel alive? Free?”

“Fuck you.”

Leigh laughed. “No need to admit it. I know what you are. I even know about the clubs, Alicia. I’ve known for a while.”

Berg gasped, then sat in silence, shame bubbling to the surface. She screwed her eyes shut.
Don’t let this woman inside your head.
“I assume you framed me by planting my hair,” Berg said, changing the subject. “Why?”

“I needed to keep Consiglio busy for a while. Consiglio believed it all too easily, quick to jump on any lead that would give him a quick solve. And you, well, you’re a bit too good at your job and I didn’t need you finding me out before I was ready for you. Your hairbrush supplied all the DNA I needed.”

Berg also suspected there was another reason. She remembered the hearing, how Leigh’s support had helped her. She had been so grateful . . . the perfect foil.
 

Leigh set her up and then rescued her to gain her trust.
 

Berg wondered if Consiglio knew how he’d been used. In one move, Leigh made him look a fool and gained her everlasting appreciation.
 

“Just kill me and get it over with,” Berg said, her voice dead. “I hate to disappoint you, but I have no intention of begging for my life. Fact is, you’ll be doing me a favor. I don’t have the courage to do it myself.”

“I don’t plan on killing you, unless you try something stupid,” Leigh replied. “But I
am
still doing you a favor. I’m giving you a gift, Alicia, a reason to live.”
 

Berg scoffed.
 

Abruptly, Leigh changed tack. “You’re an amazing investigator, you read people very well, as, of course, most abuse victims do,” she said. “But you’re special. You never give up, and you trust your instincts. We were meant to find each other. If it weren’t for you, I would have moved on by now. I left a very difficult trail for you to follow. I know I’ve been hard on you, but it’s only because I see such potential. You could be great. With a woman like you joining my team, we would be unstoppable. Inescapable justice.”
 

Berg felt a cramp coming on and gritted her teeth against the pain.

Leigh paused. “Well, there is no team. But we’ll find a new team. Society makes them every day.”

“You’re a psycho if you think I’d ever join you,” Berg said. “I’ve seen what you do to your teammates.”

“Maybe I am,” Leigh replied. “But then, so are you, my dear. What is a psycho, really? Our brains are just wired a little differently—a little better. We see things more clearly, and we pursue our goals with more determination. We see things in black and white. An eye for an eye—is that so bad? It’s in the Bible, for Christ’s sake. You must admit, there are people out there who deserve a little divine retribution. Everyone knows it. Look at TV crime shows. They are popular because the masses recognize the need for some good, old-fashioned justice, free of a corrupt justice system that favors the rich. Who better to dole it out than us? The system does nothing but tie our hands with its rules and regulations.”
 

Berg screwed her eyes shut, as if the pointless action could somehow stop her from agreeing with every single word Leigh said.
 

“Besides, you can’t have your childhood wrenched away as we did and not come out a little broken, can you?” Leigh paused to let this sink in. “Now, you can continue to try unsuccessfully to fit into society if you like . . . but you know, deep down, as I did, that it will never work. You’re better than them. All of them. You will always feel like you are on the outside looking in. You will always be in crowded rooms but still feel alone. People, like your partner here, will never fully accept you and your wonderful darkness. They can feel it, too, Alicia. You are irrevocably broken and you know it. Why else would you need to feed your addiction, just to feel normal for a few precious moments? Normal people don’t need to do that . . .”

Berg felt tears burning behind her eyes, and she was glad she was still facing away.
I’m not broken, I’m not
.
 

Yes, you are,
her mother’s voice whispered back.
 

“I’m going to leave you with that thought for a few hours,” Leigh said. “Hands behind your back, please.”

She prodded the back of Berg’s head with the barrel of her gun. Berg complied, allowing Leigh to handcuff her hands behind her back tightly before dragging her to her feet. She shackled her to the metal hooks above her dying partner, her arms stretched painfully out behind her. Already, her hands were tingling from lack of blood and her back ached.

Berg started awake in the darkness. She had no idea how long she’d been out. It could have been minutes or hours.

The basement was pitch-black, and the only sound she heard was Jay’s faint breathing.
 

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