Into the Fury (BOSS, Inc. #1)(33)
He picked his shoulder holster up off the side table and slid into it, walked over to the entry hall closet to retrieve the black blazer he’d brought to wear over his T-shirt and black jeans for the service.
His cell chimed just as he shrugged on the coat. He dug the phone out of his jeans, saw Dirk’s name, and pressed it against his ear. “What’s up?”
“Turn on the TV. Local news. KIRO 7.”
Ethan picked up the TV remote and pressed the power button, brought up the guide and tuned in the channel.
“What is it?” Val asked, but as their attention focused on the flat screen above the bookshelves, the reason for Dirk’s call was clear.
“. . . new information has surfaced on the brutal murder of supermodel Delilah Larsen. A reliable source has confirmed that within the last two weeks, Delilah, as well as nine other top La Belle models, received notes threatening their lives.”
A cell phone image of the first note flashed up on the screen, the photo clear enough for each word to be read.
SINNERS, SLUTS, and WHORES--BEWARE. Your TIME is at HAND.
Ethan swore softly. “Just what we didn’t need.”
“A second note similar to the first was found at the murder scene,” the commentator went on, “which clearly establishes the killer as the same man who had previously threatened the women.”
A photo of the second note appeared.
Sinners, SLUTS, and WHORES--BE WARE. REPENT or you WILL be NEXT.
The reporter’s voice came through the speaker. “The question now—will another La Belle model be the target of this deranged killer? And if so, what are the police doing to protect them?”
Ethan silently cursed.
“For more on this breaking news story and the killer the press is calling the Hellfire Preacher, we go to Sheryl Altman, standing outside the Evergreen Memorial Cemetery where Delilah Larsen’s funeral is set to commence today at one P.M.”
Angrier by the minute, Ethan listened to the rest of the segment, then clicked off the TV.
“The Hellfire Preacher?” Val repeated. “That’s what they’re calling him? How did they find out about the notes?”
“I don’t know, but I’d like to get my hands on the bastard who leaked the information.”
“A lot of people knew about them. It’s hard to keep a secret like that for long. It’s going to make everything more difficult, isn’t it?”
Ethan worked a muscle in his jaw. “Yes.” He didn’t say more, and in the silence that followed, the sound of voices coming from outside filtered in through the window.
Crossing the living room, Ethan pulled back the curtains and stared through the panes at the crowd of reporters gathering on the front lawn. “Jesus, they didn’t waste any time.”
Val walked up beside him. “Oh my God.”
Still connected on the phone to Dirk, Ethan lifted his cell back to his ear. “You still there?”
“I’m here. Meg’s with me. I’ve got you on speaker.”
“The vultures are already out front.” Even the heavy mist hadn’t deterred them. “No way we can get to my Jeep without a problem. We’re in Montlake. How far away are you?”
Megan answered, her voice tinny over the open speaker. “My house isn’t far from Val’s. It won’t take us long to get there.”
“There’s an alley behind the house,” Ethan said. “Call me when you get close and we’ll meet you out there.”
“On my way,” Dirk said.
“Get away from the window,” Ethan said to Val. “We don’t want to stir them up.”
She cast him a glance. “You mean like a nest of angry hornets?”
His mouth edged up. “Exactly.”
“My neighbor, Mrs. Oakley, is going to freak out.”
“You can phone her as soon as we get on the road. Let’s head for the back door, be ready to go when Dirk calls.”
“Give me a sec.” Val ran back to her bedroom, came out a few seconds later wearing her sneakers, her black high heels in her hand. “I’m a heckuva lot more sure-footed in these.” She lifted a shoe to show him and he chuckled.
“Good thinking.”
The call from Dirk came a few minutes later. So far the media hadn’t wanted to risk trespassing into the backyard, and the alley was kind of hidden by the foliage at the end of the block, not easy to spot if you didn’t know where to look.
Val grabbed her umbrella. Ethan strode over and opened the back door, stepped out into the chill. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Thirteen
Val folded her umbrella and slid into the backseat of the big black Cadillac Escalade Dirk Reynolds was driving. Ethan followed her in. Megan sat in the front seat next to Dirk.
“Thanks for the ride,” Ethan said as the vehicle shot on down the alley, and Val hurriedly buckled her seat belt. The windshield wipers slopped back and forth as the SUV pulled into the street. The weatherman had nailed it. Dark and overcast, perfect day for a funeral.
Meg turned around in her seat. She was also dressed in black: black leggings, black boots, a black wool skirt, and a black V-necked sweater. “You okay?” she asked Val.