“That’s when I looked at her face again and realized who it was.”
“What happened?” Alexander stepped back, straightening his spine.
“I won’t have a definitive answer until the medical examiner does his exam and issues a cause of death. Right now, I’m operating under the assumption she’s another victim of the Castle Island Killer.”
Alexander nodded, staring at the barrel. At least every other day for the past month, a report of another murder appeared on the front page of the Boston Globe, the police attributing it to the Castle Island Killer.
“It fits his M.O. Assaulting the victim, killing her, then stuffing the body in a barrel and leaving it in this area of the city. The only thing giving me pause is that her throat wasn’t slashed, unlike all his other female victims, and the physical assault appears to be substantially more severe and brutal. He may be progressing. Does she have any family or—”
“They were raised by their grandparents, but they died years ago,” Alexander interrupted with a heavy sigh. “They have a few distant aunts and uncles, but no one who would care that she died. Landon was all she had left before…” He trailed off.
The fact he worked in a dangerous field was never lost on Alexander. Over the years, he had lost some of his best men on various assignments his company had been contracted to orchestrate and oversee. He took each one of those deaths personally, but none of them hit him as hard as Landon’s. He wasn’t just an employee. He was a friend, a brother in every sense of the word except blood. They could go months, even years without talking, then pick right back up where they left off, as if the passing of time had changed nothing. Their bond went back to the beaches of Coronado, where they were broken down and built back up as some of the most highly trained weapons in the United States military.
“Got it,” Dave said quickly. Apart from the sound of trucks beginning their early morning deliveries and seagulls squawking over the water, it was silent for a moment. Suddenly, Dave cleared his throat. “I have to ask.”
Alexander shot his head up, knowing the question that was about to follow. He would ask the same one if he were running the investigation.
“Do you have any idea who—”
“Could have beaten this woman so badly as to be barely recognizable?” Alexander paced back and forth, the stink of the fishery no longer making him nauseated. “I have no idea. If I did, I’d—”
“When was the last time you saw her?” Dave asked, cutting him off.
Alexander stopped in his tracks, his face burning with guilt. An ache settled in his stomach as he remembered the promise he had made to Landon time and time again during their time together on the same SEAL team.
“If anything happens, promise you’ll look after Mischa,” Landon said.
“Nothing’s going to happen to you, pussy,” Alexander joked back.
“I know. If anyone’s going to get shot, it’ll be you,” he sneered, jabbing Alexander in the shoulder.
They laughed nervously, although they tried to hide it. They had been trained to be dropped into any number of remote locations and take out some of the most dangerous threats to national security. Still, the anticipation never got easier, the adrenaline never going away. Would they come home in the passenger compartment or the cargo hold of the plane?
“But seriously, Alex,” Landon pushed, looking him in the eyes. “I’m all she has. If anything happens to me, I need to know she still has family out there.”
Nodding, he shook his friend’s outstretched hand. “You bet. The only easy day was yesterday,” he said, repeating a line they said to each other over and over again during their training days.
“Fucking A.”
“The only easy day was yesterday,” Alexander mumbled, returning to the present.
Failure was never something he coped with easily. Not acting a certain way could have disastrous consequences in the field. Why didn’t he foresee that his failure to fulfill his promise to Landon would have those same disastrous consequences? Alexander had always thought his promise to Landon was an empty one, something one says to another before parachuting into some remote terrorist hotspot, not something he actually had to follow through with.
He kept meaning to call Mischa, but as the weeks turned into months and the months turned into a year, the time between phone calls had stretched until, one day, she was no longer a blip on his radar. He had no idea what was going on in her life. If she was dating anyone, if she was still trying to save the world one impoverished kid at a time. All he could think was this could have been avoided if he had just been true to his word, had taken his promise seriously. Instead, he had practically forgotten about the promise he made to the friend whose death made headlines exactly one year ago today.
“It’s been a while,” he admitted finally. Staring at the swollen eyelids hiding those same blue eyes Landon had, Alexander couldn’t help but feel as if he had failed him all over again.
“Can you ballpark it?”
“At a holiday party maybe?”
“Recently?”
“Last year,” he added in an uncharacteristic soft tone. “Olivia kept pushing me to call and invite her to our house, but one thing led to another and it kept slipping my mind.”
They stood in silence, staring into the barrel for what seemed like an eternity, regret swirling around Alexander’s brain.
“Well…” Dave cleared his throat.
Alexander snapped his attention away from Mischa’s face, her soft features now mutilated.
“My partner will probably be here any minute.”
“And I probably shouldn’t be here.”
Dave nodded. “Slight breach of protocol for me to call you before the forensics team. I’ll be sure to keep you posted.”
Alexander shook his outstretched hand, then started back toward the warehouse doors, welcoming a breath of comparatively fresh air. Pausing, he looked over his shoulder. “And you’ll let me know what the M.E. finds?”
“The second that report hits my desk, you’re the first phone call I’ll make.”
“Thanks for calling me, Dave.” He gave his brother-in-law an appreciative smile.
“You bet.”
With a heavy heart, Alexander left the warehouse, walking in the brisk night air back to his darkened SUV. The rain had started once more, coming in at an angle, the cold drops stinging his face. Instead of running to the car to escape the elements, he slowed his steps, the icy droplets cutting through him like a blade. On a night like this, he’d normally want nothing more than to curl up next to his wife in their king-sized bed, a fire crackling in the hearth. But tonight, he couldn’t gaze into her eyes and tell her what happened.
Tonight, he just needed to be alone with his guilt.
Chapter Three
December 18
6:05 AM