Ramsey Security (Ramsey Security #1-3)(112)

Saskia

No More Little Maven Encores

Leaving behind Little Maven sounds easy, but I still worry about the target on Brad's back. Nighttime is the worst, but he tries to relax me. We eat popcorn while watching Ghost Hunters. Even with all the laughing I do, my thoughts keep focusing on Marx. He's been in this house and sat on this couch. The Sloane family rebuilt their lives, only for Marx to show up wearing a disarming smile and working a devious plan. I want Marx dead, but I can't give up being the new Saskia rather than the butcher created by an evil mother.

"You shouldn't laugh at their fear," Brad says as I giggle hysterically at the cowardly ghost hunters squealing over every noise.

When I don't stop laughing, he finally gives in and laughs too. "I'd be scared shitless if I was in a haunted house."

Brad's confession only makes me laugh harder until I can barely breathe. Ruth appears at the hallway and looks at us.

"Make her stop mocking me, Mom," Brad whines dramatically.

Ruth grins. "She's right, though. Those shows are stupid."

I rest my head against Brad's chest. "I love them. In fact, I've never laughed harder in my life."

Brad's face loses his feigned outraged expression when he smiles at me. "I love when you laugh."

I hold his gaze and whisper, "I love everything about you."

"Wait until I reveal all my annoying habits."

Frowning, I say, "Oh, I thought you already had."

Brad narrows his blue eyes and gives me a dark, dirty look. My subsiding giggles start up again. He shakes his head at how I tease him. When we return to watching the show, I try not to laugh at the ghost hunters and mostly succeed.

As happy as I am with Brad and his family, I know the moment is coming when I can't hide any longer. Minka and Rafael arrive two days after the girls' night out with information about Fred Lorn and Marx. Brad insists on sitting in with me while they go over the info.

"Lorn died without much money left," Rafael says. "He suffered a stroke a few years after you returned to Texas. Most his estate went to pay for his treatment. We couldn't really tie him to Stein or Loucks. We can say it's very unlikely his estate had anything to do with the guy in New York. What's left of it is tied up in the courts between warring nephews. We checked them out, and neither is likely connected to the cult. "

"So Fred might be innocent?" Brad asks.

"Likely not. Lorn was the guy behind the show from the beginning. He created the concept and did the writing and producing. He sat on his pet project for decades until he located you."

"That still doesn't prove anything."

"No, but Lorn had a lot of noise complaint to his house back in the day. Neighbors complained about loud music and weird people hanging around. Some of those people were described in police reports as transients. So let's assume he was our guy for the original abduction. He's been out of the picture for a long time."

"How does that tie into Marx?" I ask.

"Well, we know Marx accessed the police reports involved in the abduction. He likely could have found the ones about Lorn. In them, the neighbors described Lorn's guests as Manson types. This rich and powerful guy in Hollywood was hanging out with strange people who howled at the moon. It wouldn't be too difficult to put things together if you knew what to look for. The cops never considered Lorn, so they never cared to look at his history."

"So you're saying Marx tracked down an old member and sent him to New York? That seems farfetched to me."

Minka frowns. "See, that's the thing. I can't imagine him finding any old members of the cult. The entire thing seems like Lorn's baby. We can't find anyone who cares about this obscure demon except the creator of your show and his weird friends. If we assume the cult lived and died with Lorn, the guy in New York wasn't involved in the original attacks. He's Marx's guy."

Brad becomes very still next to me. Until now, he believed others manipulated Marx.

"He got the package into the hotel room," I say. "He wouldn't even look suspicious going to the floor since he was staying there too. He knew about the New York trip before our team did and set up everything for his trigger man."

"What about the heart in the hotel room?" Brad asks in nearly a whisper.

"We don't know where he got it. Might have paid a mortician or killed a prostitute. Forensics couldn't tell much, and no bodies have been found missing a heart. We won't know unless we ask Marx."

My gaze focuses on Minka, and I shake my head. She doesn't complain or try to change my mind. I can't do the job, and that's that. Nodding, she glances at Rafael.

"Are you okay with us doing this, Brad?" Minka asks. "If you're not, we'll take what we know to the police and let them sort it out. I'll be honest that what we have isn't much, and Marx will likely walk away from this thing."

Rafael adds, "He'll know we're onto him, and he's aware of what we do for a living. He'll probably go into hiding."

I know Brad can't make this call. Despite everything he says, taking Dennis Stein's life still bothers him. I can't ask him to order the torture and death of a man he thought of as a friend.

"Let's not get the cops involved," I say as Brad goes rigid next to me. "If we want Marx to run, we scare him ourselves. Spell out what we know and what we can do. Give him the option to run or end up in a shallow grave. He'll run, and we'll be able to keep the law out of our way. The less official this thing gets, the better for us who don't need the extra scrutiny."