Chapter Twenty-Seven

The man they’d rescued from the trunk had been officially identified as Mason Black, the private investigator from San Francisco who’d had way too much bad luck already to end up here. Morgan had read his file countless times, unlike Gary who’d only skimmed it and moved on to the next huge folder in the pile. Now, that knowledge would come in handy, and it was the only reason Gary let Morgan sit in on the interview, despite Captain Bray’s unease.

All it’d taken was an ambulance and two paramedics, and Mason was able to stand. At least that’s what the reports said. He’d demanded water, food, and a shower at the police station, and three hours later he was in a spare MPD training uniform—a white tee with one sewn-in badge—waiting at the table. His hair was still a mess, but now it was clean. The god-awful stench of urine and excrement had gone, but Morgan still caught sight of some dirt under his nails. It seemed the job hadn’t been thorough enough, but he understood. There was a lot of the man to clean.

“I just need to ask you some questions,” Gary said, taking a seat.

Morgan pulled out the small metal chair beside him, watching Mason.

“I bet,” Mason said. “But can we keep it quick? I have a family to get home to.”

“Of course.”

Gary opened a file and pulled out some sheets of paper. There was a handwritten statement that had made its way onto a bunch of different pages. Morgan, who’d already read them while he was waiting for the room to become available, kept busy by introducing himself.

“It’s really a pleasure to meet you,” he said, watching Mason’s head snap back to him. “I’m Morgan Young. I’ve actually spoken to your daughter.”

“You spoke to Amy?” he asked, scowling.

“And Diane. But it was Amy who hired me.”

“You’re not a cop?”

Morgan shook his head. “Private investigator, like you were. Well… not exactly like you. I’ve been studying your work since I took the case, and I have to say I’m quite impressed. All this stuff with the Lullaby Killer is really quite amazing.”

Mason seemed to shrink at the mention of the Lullaby Killer. Blood rushed to his cheeks, but it wasn’t clear if it was from anger or humiliation. There was one obvious emotion, however: discomfort. It was the kind of discomfort one could expect from the most personal of questions, and Morgan wondered if he’d struck a nerve. He didn’t mean to—it was intended as a compliment, no matter how it’d come out.

They sat in uncomfortable silence until Gary finished reading, finally setting down the pages and closing the file. “Right. You should know, the woman who held you captive is named Erika Givens. We have officers and techs exploring her home right now. Is there anything out of the ordinary we can expect to find?”

Mason smirked. “Yeah, an underground bunker.”

“Like a safe room?”

“More like a metal dungeon.” Mason reached for his bottle of water and emptied it, crunching up the plastic when he was done. “There’s nothing safe about it. She kept talking about the others too, like I wasn’t the first person she’d had down there. I’m no genius, but considering this is the first you’ve heard of it, I’m willing to bet they didn’t live to tell the tale.”

“Lucky you got out, then.”

“I’ve had worse.”

Morgan crossed his arms and thought back through the files. How much had this man endured that the trauma of captivity was so easily washed away? Surely he wasn’t so completely unaffected by recent events that this didn’t faze him? “You seem quite relaxed.”

“Why shouldn’t I be?”

“Some psychopath was targeting you. She tricked you into coming to Washington and then kept you in her… how did you put it? Dungeon.” Morgan licked his lips and wished he had some of that water. He knew he was pushing his luck, and that only made his body heat up like he’d been set alight. “I don’t know about you, but that would make me nervous as hell. Makes me wonder why you’re so calm.”

“What are you accusing me of?”

“Nothing at all. Just trying to figure you out.”

Mason sighed and scratched his stubble, tossing the empty bottle to one side. “Look, you’ve read my file. You know about my past. There’s only so many things a man can endure before it gets old. A younger version of me might even want to stick around and find this bitch, but I’m too long in the tooth to go chasing weirdos. You know what I really want?”

“What’s that?” Gary asked, reminding them of his presence.

“I want to go home and see my family.”

“We’re not stopping you,” Gary said.

“This guy is.” Mason pointed at Morgan. “It’s great that you admire me. I’m even flattered. But can we just get on with the tedious questions so I can get back home? It’s been a long few days, and I’d kill for some fresh air.”

Morgan sat in silence. The truth was, he was a little embarrassed. There was something overly authoritative about Mason Black, something that couldn’t be read in a police file. Thinking back, he’d expected a certain amount of bravado, but he sure never expected to feel so emasculated by the man’s sheer bluntness. On the other hand, he couldn’t blame him—if Morgan had been through what Black’d been through, he wouldn’t want to hang around either. A steak dinner and a night in a soft bed would be more than welcome.

“Perhaps you can wait outside?” Gary mumbled, leaning in close to Morgan.

“What? Why?”

“It’d just go a lot smoother.”

Morgan craned his neck to stare him down. “You’re kidding, right?”

“I’ll fill you in, don’t worry.”

“I shouldn’t have to—”

“Please,” Gary said.

As well as feeling embarrassed, Morgan felt as though he’d been removed from his own case. He hadn’t forgotten that his access into this room had been an act of courtesy, but to be evicted now only made him feel further apart from Gary. He couldn’t take it to heart—not if he wanted to keep their friendship intact, at any rate—so he did the only thing he could.

He stood and went for the door.

Before he closed it, he got one last look at Mason Black, expecting some kind of smug grin. But Mason didn’t acknowledge him at all. There wasn’t so much as a nod of the head to say goodbye, and after all he’d done to track him down, Morgan expected something more. It made him feel as though he’d been wasting his time, but as he shut the door and made his way back to the police precinct lobby, he reminded himself of one important fact.

Regardless of the lack of gratitude, he’d saved that man’s life.

But Erika Givens was still out there.