26

Much to Parker’s chagrin, Avery insisted on still working the rooms despite the fact they’d both been up for close to forty hours and despite the fact the victim was her friend. Because of the personal tie, the horror of what her friend’s body had been put through, he’d tried to talk her into letting another crew handle this one, but stubborn wasn’t a strong enough word to describe Avery’s unwavering determination.

Parker’s cell dinged, and he glanced at his phone. “Griff and Jason are here. Let’s go meet them. They’ll need our help to find this room.”

It took some trekking, but Parker and Avery finally made it out to the parking lot—well, what had at one time been a parking lot. Now grass and weeds cracked up through the crumbling asphalt.

“Thanks for coming,” he greeted Griff.

“No problem.”

Jason Cavanaugh, Griff’s partner, stepped out of the car. “Parker.” He nodded, then shifted his gaze to Avery. “Miss.”

“How many times have I asked you to call me Avery or Tate?”

“Sorry, miss. It’s either going to be miss or ma’am. Your preference.”

“Great.”

Finley’s car rounded the corner.

“Finley?” Avery said.

Griffin shook his head. “She was with me when Parker called and insisted on coming to make sure you had support.”

“That’s kind of her, but unnecessary, especially at this late hour.”

Griffin raked a hand through his hair with a smile. “You try arguing that one.” It was crazy to think in less than two weeks the two would be husband and wife.

Finley stepped from her car and hurried to Avery’s side.

“How are you?” Concern creased her brow. “What happened to your face?”

“She fought Sebastian off,” Parker said, pride imbuing his words. She was a fighter, and he loved that about her—loved so many things about her. The instant he thought he might lose her, it had all come into focus. He loved Avery Tate. Not just cared about. Not just admired. He loved her.

“I think I have an icepack in the car,” Finley said. “I’ll be right back.”

Two patrol cars pulled down the drive.

Griffin inclined his head in their direction. “Cavalry.” He moved to relay to the officers what had occurred and what they would be focusing on in the building.

Finley gave Avery the icepack, and she winced as she set it against her jaw.

Parker inhaled sharply. He wanted to kill Sebastian for hurting her.

The wind had picked back up, skimming over the dark water behind them, the somewhat-cool breeze actually refreshing after the stale air of the long-abandoned building.

They were closing in on Sebastian. They’d located where Skylar had been photographed, confirmed she’d been dead at the time, and the cause of death had most likely been strangulation. So far Parker had collected hair, clothing fiber samples, and a small spot of residue on the sheet draped over the sofa. He wasn’t certain if it was biological or chemical—if it had been on the sheet to begin with or if it had come from Skylar’s body or clothing. He was betting the latter, but he’d have to wait until he could fully analyze it at the lab.

He just prayed when their time here was done that Avery would allow him to comfort her, to shelter her in his embrace and let her cry on his shoulder again. He was there for her, always. He hoped she knew that.

“This place looks like something out of a horror movie,” Finley said as they approached the side entrance he and Avery had come through. It didn’t help it was pitch-black and the sound of bats echoed through the rustling trees.

He pulled the rotting plywood back, holding it for them. “Wait until you see the inside.”

“You weren’t kidding about the inside of this place,” Griffin said, holding a flashlight in one hand and Finley’s hand in his other, helping her maneuver over and around metal chairs tipped on their sides, piles of trash, and random gurneys.

“If someone were purposely making a haunted house for a carnival, this place would make a fantastic source of inspiration,” Finley said.

“Two more floors up,” Parker said.

He so wished they’d found Skylar alive, but at least they were finding evidence and viable leads. At least Skylar’s case wouldn’t become a cold case like Jenna’s.

Jenna.

The horrific images of her remains on the shoreline they’d grown up playing on still ripped at his soul. If only they could find her killer. Bring Jenna justice. It was so unfair.

He climbed the next flight of stairs, fearing he’d never see justice happen for Jenna’s brutal murder. But he knew one day justice would prevail. One day, if it didn’t happen on earth, her killer would stand before Almighty God and answer for the evil he’d done.

Parker wanted, ached, to deal out that punishment, but earthly punishment for murder was the court’s jurisdiction and in eternity, God’s.

It was infuriating at times not to take matters into his own hands, most certainly in regards to Jenna’s murder, but at least God had seen fit to bless him with the drive and skill required to help bring truths to light, to expose the deeds of evil men and women, deeds they thought they’d hidden so well. And they had not just let Jenna’s case remain cold, not any longer. They, as a team, were still working her case whenever they had the chance—evenings, weekends, days off—with each focusing on their area of expertise to hopefully, finally bring Jenna’s killer to justice. No matter how long it took, they weren’t giving up. Not until Jenna’s killer was behind bars.

“What’s your profile of Sebastian?” Griffin asked, holding the stairwell door open for Finley and Avery, Jason bringing up the rear.

Parker swallowed. “There’s darkness in this guy, a penchant for dancing with death.” Just like whoever killed Jenna displayed by his brutal actions.

“So you believe he killed Skylar?”

He blinked back to the present, fully focusing his attention on Skylar’s case before them. “There are no signs of a struggle here, but in pictures of her body I saw signs of her having fought back. We know Sebastian was at her trailer and took props for the photo, but there were no signs of a struggle there either. I don’t know where he killed her, but so far everything points to him as our man.”

Parker remained by Avery’s side as the cops canvassed the place. Edward was nowhere to be found—but they discovered that the tunnel system went throughout the entire complex.

“Dude, this guy is beyond creepy,” Finley said, studying the photographs and sketches of Skylar on Sebastian’s studio wall.

“Hopefully someone will spot him.”

“And if not?”

“We go back to his home? Come back here? I think he’s too attached to this place to leave it for long.”

“And in the meantime?”

“We search the grounds for Skylar’s body.”