Page 51 of Z For Butterfly Man
“No! We can’t loseyou. I’ll find that douche later, one way or another.”
“How? He escaped before I could engage and wire him with a tracker like you ordered.”
Concha de la lora. “It’s all right. It was a long shot anyway. He’d have probably scrubbed himself clean before we could utilize it. Just head to the beach extraction point, I’m three minutes away.”
“Copy. But what about Mrs. Abel?”
My heart squeezes. My Birdie. My Reagan. “I’ll find her and kill the son of a bitch if it’s the last thing I do.”
“Then let me help. Please.”
“Let’s get you patched up first, Brandon.” I hang up.
The plan was simple. Let Ashford believe he is luring me into his trap, while Marcus calls the cops and tips them with the information we have on the detective. I lose Ashford a few miles before we reach the cabin, meet Brandon to give him a trackerto plant on Ashford when he sees the sirens and runs because a coward like him sure will. Then follow that douchebag straight to wherever he’s keeping Birdie.
Instead, he shot Brandon and disappeared into the woods like a cockroach scurrying for the shadows.
I take the turns too fast, not caring. Brandon is bleeding out somewhere on a beach while Ashford is free and Birdie—
God, Birdie.
I don’t let myself think about what is happening to her or what happens next. If I do, I’ll lose focus, and I need every ounce of control I have left.
Marcus calls.
“Tell me you have good news.” I reach the beach extraction point. No sign of Brandon yet.
“Depends on your definition of good.” Papers shuffle on his end. “I just got off the phone with our connection in Oak Bluffs PD. Their chief is treating this as an officer-involved incident. Ashford’s car is being processed, his locker at the station is being searched, and there’s a manhunt underway for an armed and dangerous fugitive.”
“What about the narrative?”
“Clean. Detective Reid Ashford, operating on false pretenses under the alias Jacob Torrance, obsessed with victim Birdie Abel, staged her kidnapping to frame you. When confronted at the decoy cabin, he panicked, shot one of her security personnel, and fled. The evidence trail leads straight to him. Miami connection to Blake Abel, suspicious behavior, the works.”
Not enough. “He’s still out there, Marcus. Still breathing.”
“Not for long. Every cop on this island is hunting him. He’s got nowhere to go.”
Something doesn’t sit right with me. “He’s been planning this for years. Blake’s partner doesn’t just show up on Martha’s Vineyard by coincidence. He followed Blake here. Watchedhim. Studied him. Learned everything about Birdie.” My jaw clenches. “Psycho fuckers like that always have a contingency plan.”
“So what do you want to do?”
What I want is to tear this island apart until I find him. What I want is to put my hands around Ashford’s throat and squeeze until he rattles his last breath. What I want is blood and screaming and justice delivered with my bare fucking hands. “Get someone to access his financials. Bank records, credit cards, property holdings under any name he might use. If he rented or bought anything on this island in the last two years, I want to know about it. He has to be keeping her somewhere here.”
“On it. What about you?”
“Picking up Brandon. I’ll patch him up at the main safehouse. Keep me posted as soon as you have anything.”
Brandon appears, dragging his feet toward me. I end the call and jump out of the SUV with the first aid kit. He is holding his shoulder, blood seeping through his fingers, but he’s conscious and alert.
“How bad?” I ask.
“Through and through. Missed the bone.” He winces as I cut away his shirt. “Hurts like a bitch, but I’ll live.”
I work quickly, packing the wound, applying pressure. “Did you see which direction he went?”
“North. Toward the cliffs. But there’s a dozen trails he could’ve taken from there.” Brandon’s eyes meet mine. “Sir, I’m sorry. I fucked up. I should’ve been faster, should’ve—”
“You did exactly what I asked, and you survived getting shot.” I finish bandaging and help him into the passenger seat. “Ashford is the one who fucked up. He showed everyone exactly what he is.”
