9

As soon as he answered the phone, Monty’s face went slack. He stared at Alex, who wrestled the phone from his grasp and clicked the speaker button. A voice said, “I’ve got your grandmother here, Monty.” Alex held the phone out so everyone could see. They all watched as a large man in a dark leather jacket, wearing a ski mask and gloves, stood next to an elderly Asian woman, a gun held to her head. His voice was high and unnatural. He was obviously trying to disguise it.

Alex gently set the phone in the middle of the table, resting it against a pile of files. Everyone moved to one side of the table so they could see the unthinkable. Gorman grabbed a nearby notebook, wrote something down, then slid it to Monty, who picked up a pen and quickly scribbled something beneath Gorman’s message.

Gorman grabbed the notebook and hurried out of the room, handing it to a nearby officer. Alex was pretty sure it was Mrs. Wong’s address. Although Gorman had to try, there was no way anyone could get there in time.

“I guess you know what comes next, don’t you?” the man said. “And by the way, say hello to your friends for me. Let’s see. There’s Kaely Quinn. Pretty famous, huh? Or should I say infamous? Alex Donovan. Made quite a name for herself, saving the world from a possible contagion. And Logan Hart. Right by Alex’s side again, huh, Logan? Got feelings for the pretty lady? I’d bet anything you do. Kind of like Kaely Quinn and Noah Hunter? But I digress. We were talking about Monty, weren’t we? This is his moment to shine.” He laughed, but it was dark and merciless.

Alex shivered at the coldness that seeped through the phone. “What do you want?” she asked. “Tell us. Maybe we can help you.”

“Don’t try to handle me,” the man said, his tone changing to one full of anger. “You have nothing I want. But Monty does. I want to hear the panic in his voice. And I want to hear him beg. Sadly, I didn’t get to enjoy that with Davis. Not that it will do any good. So it’s your turn, Monty. One . . . two . . .”

Monty’s grandmother suddenly spoke loudly but firmly into the phone. “Bae,” she said. “You will not give this man what he wants. Do you hear me?” Then she spoke in Chinese before the man hit her in the face with his free hand.

Monty stood and yelled, “No!”

The man took up the count again. “Three . . . four . . . five . . . six . . .”

Monty’s grandmother yelled something else in Chinese, and the man hit her again.

As Monty reached for his gun, Logan and Gorman grabbed him. Gorman held him in a tight grip, and Logan took his weapon away.

“Give it to me!” he yelled, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Please. You don’t understand—”

“I understand that your grandmother doesn’t want you to do this,” Logan said, his voice firm. “That’s what she just told you, Monty. Do you really think she’ll want to live without you? Besides, we have no idea if this guy will keep his word.”

In the background, the macabre counting continued. Monty fought hard to get away from Gorman. After securing Monty’s gun, Logan helped to hold him back.

“Twenty-one . . . twenty-two . . . twenty-three . . .”

Monty’s screams alerted officers in the outer room, and they threw the door open, their guns drawn.

“Get out,” Gorman yelled at them. “We’re okay. Close the door.”

At first the officers didn’t move. But when Gorman yelled at them again, they finally left. Alex couldn’t think about them. All she could do was watch the phone and pray quietly.

“Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine . . .” The man stopped counting and stared at them through the screen. “You should have been faster, Monty. You and your friends are making me do this.”

Alex jumped, and a small scream escaped her mouth as simultaneously the screen went dark and a shot rang out.

“No. No.” Monty’s body went limp, and he fell back into his chair. “How could you do this?” he asked through the sobs that racked his body. “You had no right . . .”

Kaely got up and walked over to him. “Monty, what did your grandmother say to you?”

“She . . . she said she was ready to go home to be with her ancestors.” He had trouble getting the words out. “That this was what she wanted. And that I still had a life to live.”

“If you love her, then you have to honor her wishes,” Alex said. She couldn’t stop the tears that slipped down her cheeks. She was devastated for her friend. “She didn’t want you to die, Monty. If you’d killed yourself, that pain would have been worse than death to her. Do you understand?”

For a moment, Monty just stared into Alex’s eyes. As tears still streamed down his face, he finally nodded. “Yes. I know you’re right, but—”

“You don’t have to finish that,” Logan said. “We all understand.” He slipped into the chair next to Monty and put his hand on the distraught man’s arm.

“We didn’t see him shoot your grandmother, Monty,” Gorman said. “I have officers on their way to her house. Maybe it was just a threat. Remember, the other messages were prerecorded.”

Alex knew he was trying to give Monty some hope, but she was certain the elderly woman was dead. This video was different. The UNSUB wasn’t fooling around. He was responsible for three deaths, but this was the first time he’d directly taken a life. A complete departure from his previous MO.

“I need to go to her house,” Monty said. “She shouldn’t be alone.”

“Not a good idea,” Logan said. “He was trying to kill you, Monty. We don’t know where he is. He could be watching you.” His eyes swept the room. “We need to stay together. No one goes anywhere alone.”

Monty stood. “I understand what you’re saying, but you can’t force me to stay here. I have to be with my grandmother. I don’t want a lot of strangers with her now.”

“Monty,” Alex said, “Logan’s right. You’d be telling us the same thing. Besides, we need to talk about this. I’m sorry. I realize this is the worst time possible to bring this up, but . . .”

“But everything’s changed,” Kaely finished for her.

Alex nodded.

Monty slowly sat down again.

“What do you mean?” Gorman asked.

Alex took a deep breath. “The first two, John Davis and Evan Bayne, could have worked together on a case, but Monty’s never been involved with them. They both retired years ago.”

“Then why—” Monty’s eyes suddenly got big. “You’re right. He’s not going after people who were involved with him or his family, he’s . . .”

“Pursuing us,” Logan said, his expression solemn. “I think his targets are behavioral analysts.”

He drove slowly away from the old lady’s house, the ski mask thrown onto the seat beside him, angry that he’d been forced to kill her. He hadn’t wanted to pull the trigger, but it certainly wasn’t his fault. If her grandson had really cared for her, he wouldn’t have put him in a position like that.

He looked down at his jacket, spattered with blood. He liked this jacket, and now he’d have to get rid of it. That made him even angrier. Monty Wong was selfish. He was almost glad Monty would have to live with the guilt of causing his grandmother’s death.

It took him almost an hour to reach the out-of-the-way motel where he’d been staying. He parked the car and walked quickly to his door, unlocking it and stepping into the cheap room that barely took care of his needs. This was the kind of place where you could pay cash without anyone caring who you were. Where the guy in the office didn’t even look at you. Even if he did, he’d only see what he was supposed to see—an overweight bald guy with a big nose and dark mustache.

He carefully removed his jacket and put it into a plastic trash bag. He’d toss it into the dumpster out back when he left. Then he took off the padding underneath the jacket and hung it in the closet. After that, he removed his colored contacts and put them in their case.

Then he undressed completely and got into the shower. Even though no blood had touched his skin, he felt the need to cleanse himself. As the hot water washed over him, he smiled. Three down, three to go.