Page 59 of Never Always
I shake my head. “You didn’t see me today.”
He laughs. “You Men in Black or something? FBI?”
It’s my turn to laugh. “Worse.”
His smile vanishes. “Try the lab. I’m sure she’s there.”
I thank him, but he doesn’t reply. It’s running distance according to the map I’m looking at. Right on the water. A slice of real estate that I’m sure cost an insane amount of money. I take off my shoes and I run on the beach. It’s quicker than dodging cars on the road or people on the sidewalk. One mile. I can do that in four minutes if I had to. Today I did it in just under. Wearing a penguin suit, carrying leather loafers, in socks, and after months of not working out. Got a few strange looks from lingering construction workers when I rounded to the front door. I’m met with dead silence when I get inside though, the smell of new paint, new carpet, and that chemical scent that always hangs in the air inside new buildings. I keep my shoes off, quiet feet as I slide against the wall, disposing of my loafers in a fake potted tree. There’s a panicked male voice echoing the hall, followed by an angry woman’s command. I’m too far to discern anything.
I pick up the speed and peer around the corner. The building is structured very similar to how the one in Cape Cod is. This is the vet side, there’s a holding tank for a large mammal that’s filling with water. It doesn’t strike me as odd as they’re getting ready to open and house animals. The scream I hear next, though? The one voice that slices bone and tears apart standard operating procedure.
“Please don’t. Please,” Tennyson’s plea, then a muffled cry that shatters my heart.
I don’t pause, I blast into the room quickly. Unarmed completely but for fury. I see her, in the center of the filling tank, tied to a chair, face bleeding, eyes nearly swollen shut. Her mouth has a strip of duct tape covering it. She’s wearing a bathing suit and I see it. The freckles on her shoulder in the shape of the letter S. My mind races with all of the times I have seen this shoulder and never noticed or made the connection.
“Fire!” My voice is a command. I’d burn this whole building down to save her. When she hears me, her head whips in my direction. I see her hope. Love. A terrified sense that now I’m going to have to watch her die, too. “I’m coming.” Even as I say it, I also pray it, because these days everything is fucked up.
She tries to scream something under the tape, but I’m already jumping vertical to catch the lip of the side of the seven-foot tank. I pull myself up easily and drop into the thigh deep water that reeks of new plastic. I push the scent back, deep, into the place I keep burnt rubber, and check my nausea. The large tank seems like an ocean as I push the water back to get to her quicker.
The water is rushing in from five large valves. I should have looked for the shut-off first.
“Where the fuck is he?” I ask, letting my gaze stray from hers. I reach my hand into my pocket and pull out my phone and dial the first number on my recent call list. Mercer. After it starts ringing, I lock it and put it in my jacket pocket, speaker side up. I say the code word over and over. It means something to Mercer but will mean nothing to a civilian.
“Oh, really you again? I have to deal with you now, too? So inconvenient. Does every fucking man in the world love her?” Her voice comes from the side, next to a valve. Ariel is perched on the edge of the tank hidden by a shadow. “What is it about her? That everyone seems to want? The fucking ugly hair color? The fact you can play connect the dots with her disgusting freckles? Tell me, Grange.” She drops into the water, now up to Fire’s neck, sauntering toward me. “Will watching her drown destroy you completely? Were you scared when you saw the other girls I killed on the news? How about the chess piece? The S to match her shoulder freckles,” Ariel hisses. “When did you know I was coming for her? Tell me. Which was your favorite? That college girl who had the same eye color, or was it the single mom who studied biology in college? They have no idea it was me. The FBI is a fucking joke. Their suspect list isallmen.” Self-centered psychopath. This is typical behavior we’ve studied. She’s intelligent, but vanity is her downfall.
Professional Grange is here now, and I know I have to diffuse this situation. “Ariel Santos, shut off the water, let’s talk. Where is Grey? Is he here at the lab with you? Is he okay? Tennyson doesn’t have much time. She will drown soon.” I hold up my hands to show I mean no harm. I heard Mercer pick up, so I know he’s listening which is why I’m describing the scene, and God willing he’s getting help here quickly. “She didn’t do anything to deserve this.” The water is almost up to her chin, and her eyes are pleading with me even though I refuse to look at her. I’d snap. I feel them on me.
Ariel sneers. “And the other eight women did deserve to die? To drown? They were all Scarlet Tennyson Kline in my eyes, so she does deserve this, Grange. More, even. I did it all for you. I dated that wash bag Grey to get closer to her.” Ariel looks at Tennyson and malice transforms her face. “He’s obsessed with her, too. Why wasn’t I good enough for you? We had chemistry that night, Grange. You didn’t just fuck me, you made love to me. I should be by your side.” Even as she says it, she stares at Fire, a mad obsession blazing in her direction.
Now probably isn’t the time to tell her I don’t remember anything from that night except the fact that I hate her. Normal Grange would make a joke about how I have a certain effect on women, but that’s not helping me save Tennyson. I could strangle Ariel, or snap her neck. Would there be enough time to figure out how to shut off this water? I eye chains on Fire’s ankles. I could carry her and the chair if it’s not chained to something. How did I miss this? Because no one suspects a woman as a serial killer.Never downplay a woman’s scorn.All of the victims were small in stature. When you pit them against Ariel, they weren’t likely to have a chance if taken by surprise.
“You want me then? All of this, the murders, to get to me? You can have me, but not if she’s dead.” I nod to Tennyson, who is spitting out water, about to go into full-fledged hysteria. She’ll drown quickly. Her red hair is floating in the water. I close my eyes against the image from my nightmares.
I’ve intrigued Ariel. “I can’t let her go. You’re smarter than that. I’ll go away for life.”
“You’ll go away for life either way,” I deadpan.
She counters, “I’ll turn off the water if you fuck me in front of her.” More vanity.
This is what I need. More time. “Deal. Shut the water off.”
Ariel uses another chair to haul herself onto the ledge and I see her fumbling for a shut-off switch. Tennyson’s face is pointed up to the ceiling now, water trickling into her eyes, but her nose is clear. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Breathe easy. Gentle. Calm down. Calm. That’s how you fight drowning. Her ears are all the way underwater, so I know she won’t hear any directions I give her. We waterboard as a tactic to get information. I know what desperate panic looks like and she’s past that point. The water stops pouring in and I take a step toward Tennyson. Then another while Ariel is distracted with keeping her balance on the edge of the tank.
Reaching out, I touch Fire’s arm. She startles and winces, but I squeeze lightly once, and she opens her eyes that are now completely underwater. I mouth the word “Breathe.”
It works. She eases, muscles relaxing. The water is still at the moment, but all it will take is a light ripple for it to enter her nose and send her into hysterics again. I back away from the chair, reluctantly releasing her cold skin. Ariel approaches slowly, and for that, I’m thankful as I eye Tennyson’s nose, barely rising above the surface.
“She can’t watch. You have to drain some of this water.” I say it nonchalant, not like her life depends on it. Which I know for a fact it does.
Ariel considers it, but she knows we’re running out of time. She continues making her way toward me, and I know I’ll have to do this the hard way. When she’s in reaching distance, I have her in a headlock in a split second. Unfortunately, I disturbed the water and now Tennyson is coughing, spluttering, gasping, head flailing.
Grey drops into the water from the other side of the pool, a bloody fucking mess from head to toe and makes his way to Fire. He lifts the chair up until her face is out of the water, and I don’t think I’ve loved a wash bag fucker who is in love with the same woman as I am so much in my entire life. Ariel is clawing at my forearm, but she’s out of her fucking league. I’m not a petite woman being suckered by another woman. I’m a mother fucking Navy SEAL who is going make sure she gets what’s coming for her. I know exactly how much pressure to apply to her neck to keep her complacent and not kill. Her nails are no match for my bulk.
“How long can you hold that chair out of the water?” I ask Grey, but it’s also a goddamn command.
Grey, the battle-weary soldier, looks at me like I’m crazy. “Forever,” he deadpans.
Well, his obsession will come in useful after all. I should have seen it—realized the difference. He’s obsessed, sure, but he loves her. He never wanted to hurt her. I’m missing balls left and right these days. I haul Ariel over to the chair and step up. Her legs are flailing, and I’m sure she thinks she’s dying, and she kind of is because I’m depriving her brain of some of the oxygen it needs, but not all. When she passes out, I throw all five foot five inches of her over my shoulder and climb out of the tank, keeping eyes on Grey and Fire the entire time. Once I’m on the cement deck, I pull my phone out of my jacket pocket with my free hand and tell Mercer I’ve got it handled. I’ve never heard a more relieved sigh. He hangs up without saying a word.
