Page 37 of Haunted By Sin
Across the bar, Mindy was laughing at something Cav Buckley whispered into her ear. As expected, he was staring directly at Brook, his gaze lingering on her with an unsettling intensity. He wasn’t obtuse, and he understood that she was waiting to have a private word with him. She didn’t doubt that he would make her wait. Such a strategy would backfire, not that such a thought crossed his mind.
Five minutes turned into ten before Cav reached out and tucked a strand of Mindy’s blonde hair behind her ear. He slowly began to make his way through the throng of people standing near the bar. There was no mistaking the confidence in his approach. Before too long, he was standing right next to her as he planted his forearms firmly against the counter.
“Imagine bumping into you here,” Cav murmured as he leaned into Brook's space. A smile stretched across his face as if they were old friends reunited by chance. “I thought for sure you would have gone back to D.C.”
“I’d like you to ask yourself a question, Mr. Buckley,” Brook instructed in a flat tone. She had already made sure to stand, ensuring that her high heels gave her as much leverage as possible. “Do you value your freedom?”
Brook held his gaze. Twenty seconds was longer than one realized, but she didn’t back down. As a matter of fact, she stepped close enough to ensure there were mere inches between them.
Cav Buckly craved control, similar to that of her brother. Cav wasn’t a killer, though. He was nowhere near the level of Jacob Walsh, but the underlying tendencies of obsession were just beneath the surface. Brook refused to be hunted by a stalker with sociopathic tendencies. She would do what was necessary to end the man’s fixation.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Cav replied softly, his warm breath containing the scent of spearmint. Too bad, really. She wasn’t sure she would ever be able to enjoy that specific mint in the future. “And may I remind you that I’m a lawyer?”
“And may I remind you that I’m the sister of a serial killer?” Brook slowly smiled, though she made sure it conveyed her message. She allowed the silent challenge to hang between them for a moment. “I know all about the complaints at your firm. Most were brushed under the rug, but Talia Katics? She wouldn’t back down, and that restraining order she was awarded also got her a settlement, didn’t it? You have a history, Mr. Buckley. One that displays a pattern that I won’t be a part of, do you understand me?”
Brook allowed a moment of measured silence to hover between them. He was staring at her lips, as if he were mesmerized by the subtle coat of her lipstick. She noticed the moment her words registered in his mind due to his gaze lifting to meet hers.
“Those were nothing more than misunderstandings.”
“You and I both know better, so consider this a courtesy warning. I assure you, a restraining order will seem like a love letter compared to the measures that I’ll take if I see you again,” Brook warned as she finally allocated space between them. His smile had faltered the moment she had brought up her knowledge of his past. “I trust this is the last time that we’ll meet, Mr. Buckley.”
Brook’s words hung in the air, and she noticed the twitch of irritation in the muscle alongside his jawline. Without another word, Brook brushed past him, her movements as fluid and precise without the slightest hesitation. She didn't bother to glance over her shoulder at Cav as she made her way past the multitude of patrons who were lost in their own worlds. She had done what she set out to do, and she had categorically gotten her point across.
Stepping out into the cool night, Brook allowed herself a single deep breath, not caring that she was now getting soaked with rain. Men like Buckley became focused on an individual, and nothing but extreme action could shake their attention. Stalkers had a lot of traits similar to serial killers. Unfortunately, there were times when nothing said or done could prevent the situation from escalating into a grave situation. Only time would tell if Cav Buckley made the right decision.
The comparison between stalkers and serial killers brought her up short. Brook had made such similarities in her current profile, but she hadn’t focused on that specific fact. While Mary Four was the unsub’s current obsession, Sheila Wallace was where it all started. Again, the team was more than aware of that fact, but Bit needed to dive deeper into the woman’s life.
The answers were there…just waiting to be found.
Nothing seemed out of place as she began to walk toward her car, the rain soaking her suit jacket. She didn’t detect anyone in the vicinity. By the time she settled in behind the steering wheel, her brief moment of freedom from the stifling confrontation inside the bar had been replaced with a chill that not even the heated seats in her car could erase. Once she had the engine started with her phone connected to Bluetooth, she immediately initiated a call to Bit.
“Bit, I’m leaving the bar now,” Brook advised as she shifted the gear into drive. “Mind brewing up a pot of coffee for me? It’s going to be a long night.”
Chapter Twenty
Sylvie Deering
May 2024
Monday — 8:37 am
A faint fetid mildew made itself known as Sylvie pushed through the glass door of an aging office building located in the heart of downtown Ann Arbor. There were hints of upgrades here and there, but its history remained intact for the most part.
Fred Dawkins had postponed their initial meeting, not that he had bothered to call Sylvie before she had arrived at his place of work. He had phoned later Saturday night to apologize and reschedule their meeting for Monday morning at nine o’clock. She had intentionally arrived early, not wanting a repeat of Saturday.
“Bit, have you confirmed that Cav Buckley left town?” Sylvie asked, adjusting her cell phone so that the strand of hair that escaped her bun didn’t get caught against her ear. “The man’s history when it comes to fixating on someone speaks volumes. Brook needs to take this seriously.”
“From what Boss told me Saturday night, she took care of it. I also called Buckley’s office this morning, asking to speak with him. The receptionist patched me through, but I disconnected when he answered the call.” There was a pause before Bit confirmed Sylvie’s suspicion. “I was able to verify his departure another way too, but I know you’re about to meet up with Dawkins. There’s no need to go into specific details.”
“That’s probably for the best,” Sylvie murmured as she glanced to her right. She had spotted a small coffee shop on Saturday, but the place has been closed for the weekend. Given the number of patrons sitting at the tables and those lingering near the condiment area, it was the go-to place during the workweek. “Thanks for the update, Bit. I’ll let you know if Dawkins adds anything of importance to the investigation.”
Bit made it sound as if Brook had put the confrontation with Buckley behind her. Sylvie couldn’t shake her unease. The encounter had revealed just how far the man was willing to go for Brook’s attention. Would her warning only serve to pique Buckley’s interest, or had her veiled threat successfully deterred him? Sylvie trusted that Brook would let everyone know if she suspected the latter.
Sylvie made her way over to the short line in front of the cafe’s cash register. The lull promised a swift transaction, and she seized the opportunity. When it was her turn to place her order, which was her usual Chai tea, she also added a hot coffee. She would attempt to use it as liquid encouragement in hopes of acquiring Fred Dawkins’ trust.
The barista had both beverages ready in under a minute. Sylvie politely asked for a holder before securing both cups. She then retraced her steps toward the elevator bank. While she waited for the doors to slide open, she thought over the interviews that she and Theo had been able to conduct yesterday at the hospital. The administrative staff had nothing useful to add, leaving Theo and Sylvie back at the hotel for most of the afternoon performing some administrative duties of their own.
Theo was currently attempting to locate Shane Dawkins. The social worker’s son had all but dropped off the map after college. Not even Bit had been able to locate him through social media, financials, or other online footprints.