Dark Deeds Page 12

  “Where is it now?”

  “It’s in my carry-on.” Catherine reached inside the bag at her shoulder and pulled out the tattered book.

  “Read it,” Damian said, pulling in closer. Catching the tension, Diego moved directly behind Becca. Thankfully, Matt was distracted with a phone call.

  Catherine opened the cover and read the inscription. “You might as well wear a scarlet A on your chest. Don’t hurt her again.”

  “Any idea what it means, or who you hurt?”

  “No. But if I’d known we were watching for notes from a stalker, I might have paid more attention to my surroundings last night.” Catherine’s tone turned accusatory. Her feelings were hurt, Becca realized. Catherine viewed SSAM as her family, and she’d been left out. “Why me, and why the reference to a scarlet letter? Who is the woman I supposedly hurt?”

  “His sights have been set on Becca lately,” Diego said. “Maybe he thinks you hurt her?”

  “Maybe he thought you were stealing my boyfriend, when you danced with Matt at the reception,” Becca explained when Catherine’s confused gaze shifted to Diego. Not that boyfriend. He had only been a temporary indulgence. And she hadn’t danced with him. That would have had her body in a tempest of hormonal need.

  “I wondered the same thing at the time,” Diego said. “How Becca’s date could be dancing so close to another woman like that. Before I knew Matt was her brother.”

  Diego had been jealous. The thought sent a thrill through Becca that she had no right to feel.

  “At least now we know a bit more about our Fan,” Damian said. “He’s expressing a loyalty to Becca. That’s one more thing we can use to identify him.”

  Diego pulled a picture out of his pocket. Beside her, Catherine inhaled sharply, taking in the image. It was a woman, tied up and duct-taped across the mouth.

  “Who is this?” Becca asked Diego.

  His shoulder bumped hers as he shrugged. “I received it Friday night, after I...left your room.”

  She looked up sharply, meeting his gaze. “And you’re just now showing it to me?”

  “He showed it to me,” Damian said. “We were going to discuss it at the meeting.”

  On Friday, after she’d practically accused Diego of working for the Circle, and he’d left, the Fan had sent him this? How had the Fan known? “What does it mean? And why do you think it’s the Fan?”

  He reached to turn the picture over in her hands. Unburden your conscience. Tell me no lies. A circle binds her forever...

  “Sounds like some kind of riddle,” Becca murmured.

  “I wasn’t sure it was from your Fan,” Diego said. “He didn’t sign this one like he did the others.”

  “He didn’t sign mine, either,” Catherine pointed out.

  “Maybe he reserves the Fan designation for those things he sends you two.” Diego gestured to Becca and Damian. “The reference to the Circle, and the branding—” he pointed to a mark in the picture, on the woman’s shoulder, “—originally made me think someone from the Circle had sent this.”

  Which must have alarmed him to no end, Becca thought.

  “But the riddle,” Diego continued, “sounds more like the Fan.”

  “But how would the Fan know about your work with the Circle?”

  “He might not have,” Diego explained. “He knows about you looking into the Circle, and he’s probably seen me with you.”

  Becca shuddered. “If he took this picture, he might have done this to the woman.”

  “I’m waiting for confirmation from a detective at the CPD, but I’m certain this is the woman they found dead in an alley a couple nights ago. Your fan has gone from friendly to stalker to killer in a very short amount of time.”

  Sunday, 4:05 p.m.

  Metropolitan Correctional Center,

  Van Buren Street, Chicago

  It was a shame to miss a chance to ride on the same flight as Becca and Damian, but it was necessary for his plans. The Fan had opted for an early morning flight, giving him plenty of time for the interviews he planned in Chicago. But his mind kept going back to his time among the wedding guests. He’d rubbed shoulders with his idols. And soon he’d be one of them. He wondered if Damian and Becca had viewed his SSAM Heroes DVD yet. There were more gifts to come.

  The first was entirely for Becca. James Powell wasn’t going to leave her alone. The Fan had hacked into Becca’s email account once more, wondering if he could gain a clue as to what was next in her investigation, or what she’d learned from Selina. Perhaps the building in Brooklyn had been it. He’d followed Becca there from the hotel, careful not to be noticed. The moment he’d seen her lurking near the fence from down the street, he’d turned and walked the other way, knowing he could get a closer look at the building later. Sending her the picture of the inside wall had been his way of telling her he could hold his own in the investigation, hinting at what they could accomplish if they worked together.

  Soon he wouldn’t have to resort to hacking her emails. She’d give him access to all of her information willingly, because that’s what partners did. They were there for each other. Just like he was there for Mother.

  But before James, he had Tony Moreno.

  He’d need to clear prison security to gain the next gift he’d send to the SSAM family. His family.

  “The reason for your visit?” the prison guard asked.

  “Interview. Part of the documentary.” He gestured to the camera case hanging at his shoulder, then set his bag down for inspection. He passed the new guy the documents that the warden had signed off on months ago. The Fan had been here often enough that any other guard would recognize him and buzz him through, but he didn’t usually do interviews on weekends. That was time reserved for Mother. Luckily, expecting him to be out of town all weekend, Mother had taken on extra shifts at the hospice where she worked as a nurse, so he had time to spare.

  After the guard examined the document thoroughly, the Fan was buzzed through and made his way down the familiar hallway to an interview room. Tony Moreno sat, his leg jostling under the table and his hands clasped in front of him. The guy was jonesing for nicotine.

  He tossed the carton of Tony’s favorite cigarettes across the table, where it slid to a stop at the man’s hands. Tony grinned, revealing two gold teeth among the tobacco-stained others. He was brown all over, except his soul. That was black as midnight.

  “Ready to unburden your conscience?” the Fan asked, sliding into the chair opposite Tony.

  “Aren’t I always?” Tony had already unwrapped the carton and was tapping a cigarette free of one of the packs.

  The Fan spent some time setting up the camera and making sure it was ready to film. He sat down out of range of the picture and slid the match he’d smuggled in across the table to Tony, who snatched it up greedily.

  Tony took several long puffs before meeting his gaze through the haze of smoke. “What do you want to know today?” The nice thing about Tony was that since he was serving several life sentences for rape, assault and any number of other offenses, he wasn’t going anywhere. And he liked to talk. Especially about the things he’d done.

  “Good versus evil,” he said.

  Tony grinned. “The usual, then?”

  “Actually, today I’d like to know more about the Circle.” They’d been dancing around the topic for months. Last week, Tony had finally told the Fan about the Circle’s brand. The one Fanta’s dead body bore.

  Tony’s smile faded. “Can’t. They’d kill me.”

  “I think I’ve proven my loyalty to you by taking care of Fanta.” Fanta had seen Tony driving away with his last victim. She hadn’t come forward to testify—because, let’s face it, who would trust her?—but Tony didn’t want to leave her as a loose end and the Circle had pretty much written him off. “You asked me to destroy her and I did.”

  “Using the Circle’s logo. Fuck! They know about my concerns about that whore.”

  “You’re in prison. Why would the
Circle think you were involved? I’m not going to tell them.”

  Tony jerked his head toward the camera. “You wouldn’t have to. Broadcasting that movie you’re putting together would be enough to condemn me.”

  “What have you got to lose?”

  Tony took another long drag on his cigarette. “Shit. I haven’t even told my lawyer about the Circle. Could probably have got my sentence reduced if I’d talked then.”

  “All five sentences?”

  Tony smirked. “Drop in the bucket. It could have been much, much worse if the cops were any good at their jobs.”

  “They caught you, didn’t they?” Actually, it had been Becca who’d caught Tony, with the cops’ help. It was part of what had drawn his attention to her...and what had led him to interview Tony.

  Tony’s eyes narrowed. “What do you want to know?”

  “Just one little thing.” He pulled a second carton of cigarettes out of his bag and set it at his elbow. Tony’s eyes went to it like a mother’s to her baby. “I want to know anything you know, or may have heard, about a particular event that went down twenty years ago.”

  Curiosity sparked in Tony’s bland brown eyes, giving them new life. There was nothing Tony liked more than having valuable information to impart. After all, everyone wanted to feel his or her life was worth something.

  “Something twenty years ago, involving the Circle?” Tony shook his head. “I would have been twenty-five. I had just started working with them.”

  “But you might have heard something.”

  Tony shrugged. “What about?”

  He slid the carton toward Tony, but left his hand on it in the middle of the table. “Samantha Manchester. What did the Circle have to do with her disappearance?”

  Chapter Ten

  Sunday, 4:17 p.m.

  O’Hare International Airport, Chicago

  After Catherine left with Damian, Matt hoisted his bag. “Dinner’s at six-thirty.”

  Becca sighed. “I’ll be there.”

  “We’ll be there.” Diego arched a brow that reminded her he was going to be there, wherever she was going.

  “Fine.” It wasn’t worth the argument. And if he wanted to spend the afternoon with her family, it was his funeral. “Let’s go.”

  “Where, exactly, are we going?”

  “My parents’. Be prepared for some serious interrogation.” Though her tone was sarcastic, inside she was worried. She’d never brought a man home before. There was sure to be a barrage of questions and curious looks aimed her way as well.

  “At least there will be one friendly face.” Diego watched her brother head through the doors to the taxi stand. Giving up his seat in first class had won major brownie points with Matt.

  “And it won’t just be my parents. All of my brothers live within a short drive, so they’ll be there.”

  Before she could reach for it, Diego grabbed her bag along with his. “Did you park?” At her nod, he maneuvered their way through the crowd to the sliding doors that led to the shuttles. A short ride later, they were in the lot where she’d parked. A half-inch of snow crunched beneath her shoes as she led Diego to her sky-blue VW Bug. She popped the trunk so he could load their bags while she dusted accumulated snow from the windshield.

  In the driver’s seat, Becca bit back a grin as Diego folded himself into the passenger seat of the small car. It was cold in the short-term parking lot and she held her hands up to the vents, praying the heater would kick on soon.

  Diego caught her watching him trying to shift his long legs into a less awkward position and winked. “I’m more man than your car can handle.” He was eyeing the situation with uncharacteristic good humor. Or maybe it was characteristic, and she hadn’t seen it much behind his grief last summer. There had been hints of his humor at times, and Becca had responded to it, trying to provoke more laughter from him when she could, like a junkie looking for a fix.

  “How far to your parents’?” His question pulled her back from distraction.

  “About twenty minutes. I’m sorry, but we won’t have time to stop by my apartment first since it’s not on the way.” And because she didn’t want extra time with him, alone in her apartment. She eyed his long legs. The denim stretched to outline his thighs and made her own thighs clench with the desire to wrap them around him. “You’re going to regret inviting yourself along, and not just because of the muscle cramps.”

  “Why? What kind of torture do they have in store?”

  “An anniversary party. It’s a special occasion, otherwise I would have begged off after the wedding and the travel and...” And having Diego glued to her. “My family values commitment. It’s what makes us a unit, so we celebrate anniversaries together.”

  “That’s nice.”

  She shot him a sideways look. “Yeah, it is.” His family was the same way, which was why Natalee’s death had hit them all so hard, like a ripple extending outward and touching everyone.

  “So, an investigation, an anniversary and a wedding all in one weekend?” He sounded impressed.

  “Yeah, life’s just ducky lately.” Especially with James Powell out of jail and this new Fan up to who-knows-what.

  “Sarcastic much?”

  “You left out the part I spent in an East Harlem precinct because someone didn’t have his priorities straight.”

  It was his turn to ignore her jab. He glanced out his window as she pulled into traffic. “How many years of marriage?”

  “Forty.”

  He whistled. “Quite a milestone.”

  “Lucky you, you get to be a part of it.” She gripped the wheel tighter as she entered the freeway that headed toward her parents’ home. They still lived in the house where she grew up. And Diego would soon be standing inside it. With her family. Making chitchat. Lovely.

  “Do you ever want that for yourself?” he asked.

  “A family?” She did. Badly. But history had warned her it might not be in the cards. “Do you?” she tossed back at him.

  “I wasn’t sure, but...” His words drifted off. She was surprised at how desperately she wanted to know the conclusion of that sentence. But when he spoke again, he’d changed the subject. “They sound like wonderful people. They put up with bossy little you all these years, didn’t they?” He grinned and her breath caught. She quickly looked away.

  Maybe she should let her brothers have a go at him, just to put him in his place. One evening of their incessant grilling and he’d cower in the corner with his thumb in his mouth and beg to be put on a flight home.

  “Does your family know about you and me?” he asked. “About our...past.”

  “I didn’t tell anyone.”

  “Because you were ashamed?”

  Startled, she glanced at him. “No. Because I was moving on.”

  “You did a good job of it.”

  She had to have imagined the hurt in his tone. He was looking out his window, so she couldn’t see his eyes. Not wanting to deal with the pain she might have inflicted, she chose to remain silent and think of what was to come. She remembered her familial duty. “Damn. We’ll have to make a stop. I’m supposed to bring the appetizer.”

  “You’re going to buy something from the store for your parents’ fortieth anniversary celebration?” His look of horror amused her.

  “You’ve never tried my cooking. Trust me, my family is expecting store-bought from me. In fact, they’re probably praying for it.”

  “This is the year you’ll surprise them.”

  In many ways.

  An hour later, Diego was lugging several grocery bags and a bottle of wine up the stone path to her parents’ brick four-bedroom home in Jefferson Park, and Becca was steeling herself for the barrage of questions that was sure to follow this impromptu change in plans. The most disconcerting issue would be explaining the ruggedly handsome man she’d brought home with her from New York.

  “I hope they don’t mind us arriving a little early,” Diego said.

  “Not at a
ll,” she assured him, touched that he’d care what her parents thought. He’d even thought to add their favorite wine to their purchases as a gift. “They’re not stuffy. Besides, you said that mysterious thing you’re making will take about thirty minutes. That’s perfect.” Everything felt just a little too perfect, when deep down she knew it would never be. Don’t fall for him again, it’ll hurt even more the second time.

  Her mother and father opened the door together, looked their fill at Diego, and their shock quickly turned to delight.

  “Well, hello.” Her mother’s smile was warm, her blatant inspection approving. Dolly Haney was a former beauty queen from the farming area of Illinois. Rumor had it, the moment Donald Haney had laid eyes on her, he’d known what he’d wanted for the rest of his life, and lured her back to Chicago where he was practicing law. So far, things had gone swimmingly for Dolly and Don.

  For Becca, not so much.

  Her mother turned a questioning look on her.

  “Mom, Dad, this is Detective Diego Sandoval. We worked a case together in New York last year, and he was Noah’s best man. He’s in town for a few days.”

  And yes, I know I’ve never brought a man home before. And no, having him here, now, during a very important family event, shouldn’t seem odd or at all significant.

  Despite a hole in her story large enough to float a cruise ship through, Becca continued with the charade. “He found himself with nothing to do today, so I thought we could take the poor stray in.”

  She couldn’t tell them the truth. They barely had an idea what she did for her daily job. Matt was the only one who really knew...thanks to Catherine.

  Diego lifted the grocery bags in his hands and turned his most charming smile on her parents. “I know this is an important event for you, and I’m honored to be here. I’m also happy to earn my keep.”

  “He cooks?” You’d think Dolly Haney had been notified the Rapture was upon them, so great was the glow of admiration in her eyes. When Diego handed her the wine with wishes for a happy anniversary to her father, her mother practically snatched his hand and dragged him inside. “Come right in.”