Secrets of Mine

Chapter Sixteen - River

River's POV

Freya knocks on the door of the guest house early doors with two cups of coffee in hand. It's early for her but I've been awake for the past two hours writing up reports and planning our next moves. My mind is fully in work mode but that slips away the second I open the door and see Freya's inked up body.

She's dressed in a short sleeve blouse and every inch of her arms is covered in sprawling designs. I track my eyes over her, drinking in the drawings on her skin. "Jude's been busy."

Freya grins. "You like?"

I hum and take one of the posh, matt black coffee cups off of Freya. I step back to let her past and she walks over to the breakfast bar. The guest house is just beside the pool and glass doors open out onto the patio. There's three bedrooms, two with their own ensuite and then there's a kitchen/living space in the middle. It's a little less obtrusively rich in its décor than the main house and if we weren't in the backyard of the woman who'd made Jude's childhood hell I might actually like it here. From what Jude's shared, I gather this is where he escaped to for a lot of his teenage years and a few traces of him remain in the chess board mid game by the sofas and the guitar in Eli's room.

"I take it the grumpy one is still sleeping?" Freya asks.

"Of course."

Freya places the second cup of coffee on the breakfast bar. "This is for him."

My gaze zeroes in on her wrist and I catch her fingers in mine. I turn her arm over, satisfaction humming inside of me as I make out the cuffs Jude has inked onto her skin. My lips curl into a smile. "Remind me to talk to Jude about making some of these permanent."

Freya narrows her eyes at me. "You wouldn't dare."

I quirk a brow. "Wouldn't I?"

Before Freya can get all fiery on me, Eli comes out of his room. He runs a hand through his sleep mussed hair, stopping short when he sees Freya. "Hi,' he says the word like he's forcing it out.

Freya pulls away from me. She crosses her arms over her chest and nods towards the cup. "I got you a coffee."

Eli swallows. I see him taking in the illustrations on her skin, but he doesn't ask any questions. He walks over to the bar and picks up the coffee. "Thanks. Appreciate it."

Freya shifts her weight on her feet so she's leaning in towards me. "No problem."

I curl my arm around her hip and pull her against my chest. I haven't had a chance to talk to Eli yet but it's clear as glass that Freya's right. Something's wrong with him and it's affecting his relationship with her.

Eli dips his head at the files I have spread out across the surface of the bar. "Where are we at?" he asks.

Freya lets out a soft sigh then steps out of my hold. "Actually, that's why I came out here." She looks up at me, her gaze wary. "I remembered something about my mother."

"Another nightmare?" Eli asks.

She twists her lips. "Sort of. I woke up and it was kind of just there."

I watch her carefully. I get the sense Freya's not telling us everything, but I let it go for now. I know she's reluctant to go down this path and I don't want to put her off anymore.

I nod for her to go ahead, and Freya drags her teeth over her bottom lip. She sighs again.

"My dad used to say he saved her, and she had these marks on her arms. I think," Freya takes a breath. "I think she was being abused before he came into the picture."

Eli freezes. His throat bobs before he blinks, locking his emotions down.

"If that's part of his victim profile it could help us narrow down his next target," I say.

"I'll go through the previous victim's coroner's reports. Double check for any signs of abuse." Eli takes out his laptop from his computer bag by the couches.

I turn my focus back to Freya. "So, you just woke up and remembered this?"

She pulls back her shoulders and shrugs. "I guess Oz digging around made stuff come to the surface a bit more. That can happen right?"

I keep my gaze steady on her, tracing the stiff lines of her face, the flicker in her eyes. "Yes. It can."

Freya's saved from further interrogation when my phone rings.

I pick it up and put it on speaker. It's Grant from Danville. "Captain Ward, what have you got for me?"

"Coroner's report came in first thing this morning." The gruff, worn edge to his voice has the hairs on the back of my neck raising.

"And?" I ask.

He blows out a breath of air. "Adelaide was pregnant."

Fuck.

Eli looks up from his laptop.

Devastation tears at Freya's face for a single moment before she goes cold. A few weeks ago, she wouldn't have even let me see that one moment of vulnerability. I have to remind myself of the progress she's made, the trust she's gradually handing me, because if I don't, I'll become obsessed with the inkling feeling that she's hiding something again.

"I'm sorry, Grant."

He clears his throat. "Just catch the son of a bitch, okay?"

"We won't stop until we do," I assure him.

"I'll send over the report."

My phone buzzes with an incoming call from Zach and I say goodbye to Grant before switching lines. "Go ahead Zach."

"There's been another murder."

The blood drains from my face. "What?"

"A second murder in L.A., the same MO. They found the body a couple of hours ago."

Freya catches my eye, her inked hands gripping the breakfast bar. "He doesn't do that," she says. "He never kills that quickly again. It doesn't give him enough time to prepare. It's too much of a risk."

Zach's quiet for a moment. "Is that Freya?"

Not everyone at the FBI was happy when Chief Syed hired Freya. Most people were just disgruntled because she's less experienced but as Farrah's PA Zach is one of the few in the know about her true identity.

"Yes," I say, my voice hard. I don't like the idea of him judging her. "Is there are a problem."

Zach pauses. "No. Sorry. I'll send you the details of the latest victim. They're expecting you at the crime scene." He hangs up, clearly not having enough balls to stick around.

"He's devolving." Freya looks up at me. "That's what this is right?"

I dip my head. "Potentially, yes. The shorter time gap between kills could mean he's losing control of his impulses."

"Okay." She swallows, processing news that potentially changes everything. "That's good. It means he's more likely to make a mistake."

"It's also bad." Eli's face is grim.

Freya glances between us. "Why?"

"Because," I say, "a serial killer in control is lethal but a serial killer out of control is a bomb waiting to explode."

I feel the pressure of the countdown closing in on me.

Our timeline just got exponentially shorter.

If Maxwell is devolving, he's going to take with him as many people as he can.