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The classically handsome man leers over my body, and I strain my eyes and brain to see if I know this guy. He wears stylishly long brown hair, a trim beard, a perfect face, and a fit body. If I saw the guy on the street, I’d probably give him a second look… until I saw his eyes. His eyes are dead and soulless.
“Who the hell are you, and why am I here?”
The man smiles, shoves up the sleeves of his cream cable knit sweater, and steps closer. Ignoring my question, he says, “My name is Dolion. Did you like the flowers I sent? They reminded me of you.”
“What are you talking about? I don’t know you.”
“But I know you, Birdie. The first time I saw you was at a science fair. You were wearing white shorts with yellow flowers. Your demonstration was about manipulating dye colors with various PH levels. You used flowers and plants to make the base dyes. I think you had plans to become an artist.”
All the air whooshes out of my lungs, and I struggle to draw more in. “That… that was fifteen years ago.”
Dolion licks his lips, moaning. “Yes, it was.”
He comes closer, propping an arm on the headboard, sending me to the extent of my tether. “I was in the community center and saw you setting up for your presentation. I decided to stick around and wait to see how you placed. After you won, I followed you home. That friend of yours was with you.”
Meals. And it wasn’t my house. It was hers.
“You were such a special, smart girl that I had to get closer. I hacked into your home’s network and learned your digital habits. I reached out to you and cultivated the perfect cover. You were practically eating out of my hand.”
“It wasn’t my house,” I whisper. It should have been you from the start. Oh god, Amelia.
“I know. Imagine my surprise when I showed up to meet you, only to learn I had been grooming the wrong girl. By the time I figured it out, your friend knew I wasn’t a teenage boy. I couldn’t let her live. At the same time, I didn’t want my effort to be a complete waste. Even though my first toy didn’t turn out to be you, I enjoyed my time with Amelia. Sadly, she didn’t.”
No. No. No. No. “You bastard! You’re just another fucking pedophile.”
“Now, Birdie,” he chides. “Name calling is so childlike. I simply prefer to pick fruit when it’s ripe, juicy, and still firm instead of rotting and falling off the tree.”
“You are one sick motherfucker. Let me GO!” I yank desperately at the chain, wishing I could choke him with it.
“That’s no way to talk to a partner. Especially after all the help I’ve given to your cause.”
I don’t get his fucked-up delusion, so I keep my mouth shut and keep tugging.
“Of course, you wouldn’t know about my work. I’m a vigilante hunter, just like you. I find men who entice girls and get them off the streets. When one gets close enough, I take his victim and set him up to take the fall. Bam. Another predator behind bars.”
My arms tire, and I freeze at his revelation. “How fucked up do you have to be for that to make sense? You’re still victimizing these children.”
Dolion shrugs as though that particular detail is insignificant. “They would have been anyway. At least when I’m finished with them, their suffering is over.”
“God, I can’t… I can’t hear this. Why am I here? If you’re a monster that preys on young girls, I must be practically rancid to you.”
“On the contrary. I see you like a fine wine that’s been put up to age, only to find that you’re still as fresh and youthful as when you were hidden away. You’re the fruit I never got to taste. You should have been my first, and I’ve never gotten over losing you.”
I back away as Dolion advances a step toward me. The closer he gets, the more he comes into focus. Spying my only weapon, I gather up the chain, dropping a loop long enough to swing like a bat. Unfortunately, taking up the length to do this brings me nearer to the bed and Amelia’s killer. “Don’t come any closer,” I yell.
Dolion walks a wide circle around me, bending to pick up the mattress and placing it back on the bed. “It doesn’t have to hurt, Birdie, but I will make sure it does if you don’t obey.”
Bastien
I warn security that I’m coming in hot and blow through the open gate once I turn into the drive. I skid to a stop at the curb beneath the portico. Two seconds later, I’m yanking open the stairwell door.
The executive reception area is full of people. I shove them out of my path to Knot’s office. His tie is on the floor next to the sofa, and his shirtsleeves have been rolled up. Birdie’s been missing for almost an hour and a half. “What’d the cop say? What’d you find?” he demands.
“We found her phone. Nothing else. What about you?”
“Cle’s gotten into the clinic’s employee records. She’s running down everyone, starting with the males.”
“I’ve traced two back to childhood. Neither is our guy. I’m working on Dr. Lee now.” Her voice draws my eyes to the large screen across the room. The woman with pale skin, strawberry blond curls, and black frame glasses is seated at a large desk with multiple computer screens. Two large males fill the space behind Cle, and one other is seated behind a laptop.
