Arran’s Obsession (Body Count, #1)

Sprinting around the building, I saw nothing for a long moment. Then my peace was shattered. A body left naked on the ground, her face covered by one of my own crew’s masks, and her neck glistening with blood.

Genevieve.

Gen with no choker protecting her throat. Gen with no chance of survival from the depth of the cut.

Anguish clamped hold of my stomach, and I stopped, unable to take another step. Subconsciously, I knew it couldn’t be her, but it gripped me all the same.

All the life she’d given me iced over and died, like she had. Tyler jogged past, two of his team with him and the rest monitoring the other side of the building.

He squatted next to the body and peered closer. “Fucking hell,” he bit out, then raised his focus. “This a police job? Lot of cameras around here. There’ll be eyes on us from the flats down the way.”

He was right.

I couldn’t move my lips.

“Shit. Did you know her?” He tugged the mask from her face.

The terror released me. It wasn’t Gen. Not her beautiful eyes in these unseeing duplicates, not her lips.

My heart restarted, beating too fast. Packing away my horrified, gut-wrenching thoughts, I managed to speak.

“Her name’s Natasha Reid. I’ll make the call.”

A short while later, Natasha’s body was being scrutinised with photographs taken from every obscene angle, an ambulance arriving with lights swirling. Cops swarmed the place, Detective Dickhead lauding it up.

I handled him, getting Manny to pull the CCTV footage. Not that there was any concern over the facts: There was no blood on the ground where the body had been dumped. Nothing like the scene where Cherry had been killed, despite the reused method.

Natasha hadn’t been murdered here.

She’d visited earlier and made a scene, though. Alicia had told me. The mask use made me think it referenced that. Perhaps that had been the intent.

Whoever had laid a dead body on my doorstep did so to tell me something, yet I had no fucking clue what that message could be. The graffiti around the other side was a single red line, mimicking a slit throat.

The fact they’d picked someone who looked like Genevieve drove fear through me like nothing else.

From across the wide harbour promenade, Shade reappeared and gave a single headshake in the negative. “Lost them. I tried every which way. They were a street ahead and I was faster, but it’s like they were a ghost. They just vanished.”

“And they wore one of our masks?”

He glanced over at the body which was quickly being concealed by a forensics unit, hours of work ahead for them. A van zoomed up, a TV crew hopping out, the female reporter instantly talking into a camera.

Shade and I strode inside without pause.

Kenney was in the operations office, one only used for CCTV monitoring. Alisha didn’t even come in here to do the rotas.

He set his gaze on Shade. “Mr Michaels. I just watched your actions on the cameras. Any specific reason why you were hanging around outside at the moment the body was left?”

“He came down with me to investigate the graffiti,” I snapped.

The chief constable huffed. “Both of you will need to come in to give a statement.”

“Later.” I turned my back and walked away.

Shade followed.

In my office, and well out of the earshot of Kenney, I dropped into my seat. “For three days, we’re on complete lockdown. All events cancelled. Staff can come here if they want to stay safe. If they were scheduled to work, they’ll be paid. I’ll make a public statement about doing it out of respect to the dead woman.”

Shade sent messages. “You’re expecting trouble.”

I exhaled hard. “I don’t know. It was a warning, but to what end? How many people saw Natasha? A couple of hundred when the strip club was raided. A lot more if she was still around when the club kicked out.”

My phone buzzed. I scowled at the incoming message.

Red: Not us.

I held it up for Shade.

His eyebrows rose. “The Four Milers are denying it. Would they lie?”

We both stared, baffled. They’d been on my suspects list, and in the past, Red had happily lauded his victories over me.

My phone buzzed again, Gen calling.

I let it ring out.

“Does she know what happened?” my friend asked.

“No. Go ahead and tell her, then stay up there and make sure Jamieson does, too. There’s something I need to do.”

He watched me for a beat then stood. “Stay alive.”

“Always do.”

My best friend left, and I changed into a pair of dark jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. An inverted bandanna over my hair made up the rest of my disguise, and I slipped out of the back of the warehouse unseen even by the dozens of prying eyes.

The scare I’d had at seeing Natasha and thinking her Genevieve had loosened something inside me. Gen was in love with me, she’d said the words, the first person to ever have done so. I was holding on to the mistrust that had been there since the night she came to my warehouse.

It was time to get to the truth.

From the car park, I took on the hill that rose steeply beyond, passing rows of terraced houses and blocks of flats. I didn’t stop until I was outside the church where Cherry had been murdered, but I passed that, too, continuing on until I reached the Crescent. On the steps outside Gen’s flat, I barged the street door. It popped easily, and I was inside.

Up the stairs, I revisited the route I’d taken on my first and only other visit, then I was outside Gen’s flat. The lock was busted, tape keeping it closed as if someone had broken in and a proper repair job hadn’t yet been carried out.

I prowled through the shadowed rooms until I found the master bedroom. Entered and sought out the pictures on the wall. Enough light came through the uncovered window to fall on two girls in a family photo in the middle of many. A twelve-year-old Genevieve and a toddler.

I unhooked it and slid to the floor.

After all these years, I was finally getting to see another picture of my sibling. Gen was right—all kids didn’t look the same. Addie was so recognisable, grinning and in a padded snowsuit, not the rainbow dungarees. They were outdoors, and from the warm clothes, it was autumn or winter. Months after our mother’s death.

Addie must’ve known Flora well to have been so content so soon. Was Flora in a relationship with Audrey? Were they neighbours or co-workers? One thing was clear. Audrey had a contingency plan for her baby after she died. She’d supplied evidence on my dad then expected the worst from it, and he’d delivered.

Another point hit me. Genevieve had told the truth. Her story was real, and Addie existed in her past. Her dad would be able to help me fill in the gaps.

In a decade of creating my own world, and bringing people closer to me, this route in through my past tripped me up. Connected up parts of my life that in the same moment felt out of control and utterly needed.

Another photo caught my attention—a family portrait. A very young Gen and her brother, and their parents with their arms around each other. Even after they’d separated, and the mother died, her dad kept the picture up. Not out in the living room for the sake of his kids, but in here, right in his eyeline when he was at rest.

“Hello? Who’s in there?” an elderly female’s voice came.

With a sigh, I stood, taking the picture of Addie with me. Out in the hall, a woman poked her head in the door. She spied me and reared back, her stick raised.

“I’ve called the police already. Don’t you move.”

I did move. My time here was done, and I had a home to go to. I exited to the hall, the woman cringing away. Then recognition dawned, and she narrowed her eyes.

“I know who you are. Your face was on the late-night news. I have an alert set up and I saw everything about you and those… those naked women! You should be in prison.”

“And yet here I am,” I drawled, dropping down a couple of steps. Wait until she copped the news about the second murder. She’d probably be fainting away and calling me the Devil.

“What are you doing breaking into people’s homes? Even the lowlifes who live here don’t deserve that.”

With annoyance, I turned around. “I didn’t break into anywhere. I own the place.”

Her mouth opened. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

The woman set her stick down, her stance wobbly. “I had a message from my landlord saying he’d sold the Crescent. Surely not to you?”

I gave her a winning smile. “Correct, Arran Daniels, strip club owner and your new landlord. Actually, to be more specific, it’s in Genevieve Jones’ name, so she’ll now be collecting your rent, and that of everyone else who lives here. I was looking for property to invest in, somewhere to renovate and offer as a home to my staff. This is close to work and will do nicely, if Gen agrees.”

Bullying old ladies wasn’t in my nature, but the neighbour was pissing me off.

I tapped the wall to mark my point. “Be nice to your new neighbours, or it’ll be you with the eviction notice on your door.”

At the warehouse, the front was even busier with two new reporters doing pieces to camera about the murder. I stole in through the back and took the stairs up to my apartment, knocking on my own goddamned door so I didn’t end up almost dead like earlier.

Returning here had never felt like this in the past. The desire to stay in, rather than always be out. I had someone to come home to now.

From the sofa, Gen watched me enter, Jamieson and Cassie with her and Shade on the phone. I held her gaze, recognising fear and worry, and my fucking heart hurt.

“Everyone out,” I ordered.

Cassie’s jaw dropped in outrage. In her hands, she brandished a notepad and pen. “Hell, no. A dead woman was dumped on your doorstep. We’ve been continuing the detective work. Give us five minutes then you can have the room, m’kay?”

Gen’s gaze held mine, the space shrinking to just the two of us. “Where did you go?”

“Your flat.”

She sniffed. “Not for much longer.”

I crossed the room. Set the photo down then collected her to my lap and just fucking held her. “I bought the Crescent in your name. Is that security enough?”

Her focus lifted from the picture frame to me. Strong emotion clogged my throat.

“A choker to protect my neck that I can’t get off. A property purchase based on a single word from me. Arran. Do you know what this is?”

“Taking care of what’s mine, that’s all.”

She huffed in disbelief.

Cassie made a cooing sound. “Ye guys are so cute. But can we focus, please? Genevieve said that Natasha woman had been here earlier in the evening, kicking up a fuss and making a spectacle of herself. She pissed off a lot of people, but who’d kill her for that?”

Shade ended his call. “Councillor Slaughter has an alibi for the murder. He was in the brothel all evening and only left half an hour ago.”

“We’re assuming whoever killed Natasha also killed Cherry,” Cassie explained. “That could be a duo, though. Slaughter is meant to have had a friend, so the second person could’ve been tonight’s murder culprit.”

“The mayor is close to Slaughter,” Shade took up. “He was here earlier, too, but left about an hour before Natasha was killed.”

I brushed my fingers down Gen’s cheek, wallowing in the need to clamp her to me, and to get her to understand that I was hers, even if she didn’t get the exact words she wanted.

Jamieson spoke. “Does anyone know the mayor? Why would he kill a random woman? I can see a motive with Cherry if he was protecting the reputation of his council member, but that’s still a stretch and fucking risky. Plus Natasha would be a complete stranger.”

Shade snorted. “Don’t think he doesn’t enjoy risk. He’s ruthless.”

Cassie tilted her head. “Ye know him?”

Something dark swirled in Shade’s eyes. He gave a short nod.

Gen adjusted her position. “I have his daughter’s phone number. I can call her and ask a few subtle questions to help us work it out.”

With a recoil, Shade stared at Gen. “Why do you have Everly’s phone number?”

“She was here this evening. We spoke.”

He wheeled away, hiding whatever was in his expression. “Lose it. She has no business being here or speaking to anyone.”

“Shade,” I said, low and clear. “Order Genevieve around like that again and see what happens.”

He heaved in a breath, annoyance simmering.

Cassie gazed between us, her head swivelling as if she were at a tennis match. “So by my count, we have Councillor Slaughter for Cherry, the mayor of Deadwater for Natasha, but without any real evidence, Red from that other gang⁠—”

“Who’s already rejected the claim,” I added. I told them about the message Red had sent.

“Do ye believe him?” Cassie asked.

“Actually, yes, in the case of Natasha. That execution style fits a gang MO, but he’d be the first to claim it. With Cherry, there’s no motive.”

“Huh. Well, maybe there’s honour amongst thieves. Who else, oh yeah, Don the scary gangster, some alternative friend to the councillor who allegedly knocked Cherry up, and another unknown copycat, perhaps. That’s a lot of dudes. Let’s not forget ladies. Don’t leave us girls out.”

Gen gave a short laugh. “Do you want your name added to the list, Cassie?”

“Not me, silly. I’m just trying to be thorough.”

Gen pondered that. “If we’re looking for women, how about my elderly neighbour? She hated Cherry. Or Moniqua? She was here tonight. And even perhaps Alisha. If we find a link between any of them and Natasha, that’ll narrow it down.”

I pulled back. “Alisha? Why the hell would you suspect her?”

“I don’t, really. Except she would’ve been pissed off at the scene in the club, oh, and she’s in love with you.”

“No, she isn’t.” I rejected that out of hand.

Gen shrugged. “What if she followed when you visited my flat on the night Cherry was killed? Jealousy is a motive.”

Shade answered. “She wasn’t there. I trailed Arran as backup. I even saw Cherry in the churchyard.”

I stared at him. “You followed me? I didn’t know,” I added quickly to Gen. On that evening, Gen had asked me if I’d come alone. I hadn’t lied. It also didn’t surprise me that Shade had fucking stalked me.

Gen paled. “Did you talk to her?”

“No, I watched her, but she didn’t even know I was there. She was alone the whole while.”

“Did you see Don’s car?” I asked.

“It passed me. I saw Genevieve react but couldn’t make out the occupants. It didn’t return. I gave the plate to Convict, but he couldn’t trace it, and Don still hasn’t been found.” Shade paced the room, his gaze distancing.

I sat back. We were no closer to working this problem out.

“Add Chief Constable Kenney to your list,” I instructed Cassie. “He drove out to find me to warn me off messing with the councillors. He could’ve been acting on their behalf with Cherry. I’m less sure about Natasha. He was at the station with me then came straight from there to respond to our call.”

Cassie jotted his name. “Was there technically enough time for him to do it?”

My brief consideration of the timeline worked. “Possibly.”

“Then he’s on the list. Does anyone have anything else to add? Because this is a hot mess full of assumptions and maybes.”

“Then ye know what we do? We pick a fucking direction,” Shade suddenly said. “Technically, everyone on our list could be guilty, but that’s going to get us nowhere. Occam’s razor says the more assumptions you make, the less likely it is. Ergo, the most obvious answer is the truth. Everyone, simplest solution, now.”

He pointed at Jamieson who stretched. “The gangster. He was right there at the church when Cherry died.”

Cassie peered at her sheet and ticked a name. “Two votes for knifey Don.”

Shade swung to Gen, and she slowly gave the same name.

“From the start, I thought it was him,” she said.

I shrugged.

“Choose a fucking side,” Shade ordered.

“Then I’ll go with Don,” I agreed. “Cherry feared the councillor’s friend, but all those men use my brothel, and none have ever hurt or scared a woman here. Who’s to say she told anyone about her pregnancy? Or even knew herself.”

Shade rubbed his hands together, doing what he did best. Deciding on a death sentence. “All roads lead to Don. Gang affiliated, known to be violent, wanted Gen and saw her with another man so had a trigger to go into a murderous rage. Think about it, he tracked ye down, Gen. That shows purpose. Killing Cherry was an outlet.”

Gen shivered, curling in on herself.

I hugged her. “Plausible, but how about the murder method and the link to Audrey’s death?”

“Either he heard about that from elsewhere and emulated it, or it was a coincidence. One of the main factors we considered was the fact Cherry and Audrey were both sex workers. If we put Cherry at wrong place, wrong time, that reduces it down to a typical for-show killing method.”

Cassie made more notes. “And tonight’s murder?”

Shade continued pacing, working out his thoughts. “The timing is interesting as the two of ye are public now. Fuck, that’s it. His gang now knows—they had confirmation tonight. He followed Genevieve’s brother and his girlfriend here and picked another target to show Arran his anger. It fits that he’d use the same method and the woman he grabbed resembled Genevieve. It has to be him. All we need to know is if it’s possible.” He turned to Gen. “The one person who’ll know more is your brother. Good for me to question him?”

Gen climbed up. “If I’m in the room, sure.”

The three of us left my place and entered Shade’s across the hall. His apartment mirrored mine with the oak floors and exposed metal beams, but there was more of his personality on display including knives on a wall, not all of them decorative.

He stopped outside a bedroom and unlocked it. The light sprang on, and a disorientated, still masked and bound Riordan stumbled to his feet.

Gen gasped. “You left him tied up?”

“Of course I did. He could’ve jumped me when I released him,” Shade replied, miffed.

I stepped into the plain room. “Riordan, my name’s Arran. I’m going to remove your mask so we can see each other.”

He held still, and I peeled the skeleton bandanna over his head. Pillow marks lined his flushed face, and his brown hair was flattened. In his features, I could track the connection from the boy I’d seen in the family photo to the man who shared a strong resemblance to my woman.

He blinked in the light, taking me in with a dirty scowl then seeking his sister. “You okay?”

“I’m good. Sorry you’ve been tied up for hours.”

Riordan rolled his shoulders. “Yeah, maybe I had that coming from barging in like I did. What time is it?”

“Six,” Gen replied.

He brought his focus back to me. “I have to get to work. You letting me go?”

“I will once we’ve had a little chat. What can you tell us about Don?”

Riordan frowned. “Not much. What do you want to know?”

“Is he a known killer for his gang?”

A slow nod followed. “He boasts about it. Each time his boss gave him a job like that, he’d brag how he’s one step closer to a top spot. I had no time for his bullshit so didn’t pay him any attention.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“Couple of weeks ago. He was at Moniqua’s when I stopped in for a quick… I mean, I went to see her.”

From the doorway, someone snorted a laugh. I twisted to spot Cassie listening in. My narrowed gaze did nothing to deter her.

“Where does he usually sleep?” Shade pressed.

Riordan named a block of flats in the no-go area, but a flat-lipped expression from Shade told me he’d already checked it out.

“Anywhere else he’s likely to be?” I continued.

Riordan gave an exasperated huff of breath, like we were taking up his time. “Why do you want to know? I’m not his fucking keeper.”

I let a cold mask descend over my expression, allowing the man to see who he was talking to. “Because you let a man into your sister’s life who intended to do her harm. If it wasn’t for you, Gen would never have met that piece of shit and he’d never have followed her home. Now tell us what we need to know so we can stop him from hurting anyone else.”

Riordan stared at me, then his shoulders dropped. “Fuck. You think he killed the woman on our street?”

Gen confirmed his guess with a nod. “He was there that night. I didn’t want to tell you in case you worried.”

“Of course I’d fucking worry, and rightly so.” Riordan gazed incredulously at his sister. “I would’ve slept at home rather than on the work site. All I heard was a rumour from Moniqua that he was interested in you. I warned him off over text because he wouldn’t answer my call and said that we’d have a problem if he went near you. He never replied. That’s why, when you and I spoke on the phone, I asked if you were seeing him. Just to be sure he hadn’t somehow sweet talked you into his bed. Having you anywhere near the gangs is fucking killing me. I blame myself.” He glared my way.

“Another woman was killed tonight,” Shade added. “She was brought here and left outside. Could Don have followed ye and your girlfriend this evening?”

Riordan stared then swore. “To grab Genevieve from us once I got her back? Then killed someone else when he couldn’t? Fucking hell.” He hung his head. “Not that I knew of, obviously, but you’re thinking Moniqua is in touch with him.”

We all went quiet. After he’d tried to take Gen from me, I wasn’t about to throw Riordan a welcome party into my life, but I liked his quick mind, and more, I pitied him. It was the very thing I feared—that my lifestyle would hurt her. From his point of view, it already had.

Riordan took a heavy breath. “I’ll see her tonight. She claims she’s worried about him, so we can do a drive around. I’ll let you know what happens. If she tells me not to bother, that’s also a message.”

I swapped a glance with Shade, and he slid a hand around Riordan’s throat.

“Double-cross us and you’re a dead man walking. We don’t tolerate men who hurt women, understand? I’ll see ye out. Need a ride home?”

Riordan blinked at the two sides of my friend. The hard line and the helpful. “I brought my bike. It’s parked in your fucking car park because I wasn’t hiding.”

Shade reinstated his blindfold, and we left the apartment, Gen hugging her brother goodbye then coming back to me. She drooped with exhaustion.

The lift took the two men away. Jamieson stood in my doorway.

“What now?” he said.

“The five minutes is up. I’m kicking you all out and taking my woman to bed.” I curled an arm around Genevieve. “If Don is the culprit, which sounds likely considering he was escalating in violence and Riordan accepted the accusation easily, we need to find him. Until then, he might act again. We’ll stay locked down until Friday night, and my crew will be out looking for him in force.”

“If ye don’t find him?” he asked.

“Then we open the doors again. Once a club night has passed, we’ll see what’s arisen. By then, Riordan should’ve shaken something out of his girlfriend, and Kenney should have results back from Natasha’s post-mortem.”

Cassie snorted. “Doesn’t take a genius to tell how she died.”

I eyed her. “Cherry’s gave us a motive we believed for a while, so don’t dismiss it.”

Jamieson palmed his sister’s shoulder. “On that note, we’ll head home. My family is missing me. Cass, let’s go.”

Cassie hovered, her eyes rounding and a small plea coming my way. “Okay, but can I come back? I like it here, and this has been more fun than I’ve had in forever.”

I sighed but agreed, once the heat was off. Having Cassie under my roof meant I could keep an eye on her, and fuck knew she needed something to do.

One by one, they all left. Jamieson and Cassie hitting the road, an angry but resigned Riordan escorted off the premises, and Shade to his own bed.

At last, I closed the door on the world and took Gen to our room.

She let me hug her. “I can’t help but feel my brother’s in danger.”

“The acts have all been against women, plus he’s a big guy. He can handle a world he chose to go into.”

“Just like I wandered into yours and am due whatever comes my way? Great. Will you take the choker off now?”

“No.”

“Fine.”

In my arms yet so distant, Gen curled up and slept.

I couldn’t. All I could think about was how in this lull of the storm, I was going to prove to her we had everything we needed, exactly how things were.