Mason ran his fingers through his hair. It was an enormous relief and an unsettling wave of fear both at once. According to Kylie and the police, the Lullaby Killer had gained entry to the house, then headed upstairs looking for his prey. Kylie said that he’d brandished a large hunting knife, which suggested he had no intention of kidnapping. She had fought him off, destroying the room around them as they punched, grappled, and tumbled. Kylie had taken a couple of hard punches, but here she was now with only a couple of bruises to show for it.
She’s always been a survivor, Mason thought quietly.
By the time the story was out, the new police captain—well, he had been there for some time now, but he was new to Mason—stormed in. He wore a navy three-button suit and a shimmering blue tie that matched his eyes. But they weren’t kind eyes. They scowled at him, his gray eyebrows curving as the skinny, bald man caught sight of him.
“You,” he said, pointing directly at Mason. “I’ve seen your photo before.”
“Probably.” Mason stood up to show off his height. He towered over the captain, but it didn’t seem to make an impression on him one way or the other. “Former Detective Mason Black. I used to work in the homicide department.”
“Used to?”
“Retired from the force. Now I’m a private investigator and concerned friend.”
“He’s here with me,” Kylie said. But her voice was drowned out in all the ruckus.
The captain stared harder at Mason, piercing him with his steely eyes. Mason stared back, feeling great discomfort but showing none of it. It was always important to stand your ground with these sorts of people. Women called it a pissing contest. Mason called it a rite of passage.
“Though you might be welcome here at any time, Mr. Black, now is not the time.” He gestured around at the busy scene, driving attention toward the officers and crime scene technicians who had stopped working to watch this little altercation play out. “We have a lot of work ahead of us, and the Lullaby Killer is closing in on us.”
“I understand,” Mason said, sneering as he realized the captain knew none of the truth—that they had taken the killer to a shipping container and had their fun before killing him. Even if it wasn’t illegal, shame would have kept him from announcing it.
“Stay with me,” Kylie said, taking his arm.
Mason pulled away gently. “It’s all right. You’re safe now.”
“We’ll take care of her,” the captain said, stepping aside from the door.
“You better.”
Mason exited the house, keeping a steady pace as if to prove that he was leaving of his own volition. Bill shrugged at him as he passed, and Mason simply waved at him—a short gesture that looked more like a salute. He didn’t mind being sent away from the scene. Kylie was safe, and the killer was still out there. Which meant he was needed elsewhere.
His own family needed protection.