Blood Indulgence: a serial killer thriller (Phineas and Liam Book 3) Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

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  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  BLOOD INDULGENCE

  Phineas and Liam, Book Three

  V. J. Chambers

  BLOOD INDULGENCE

  © copyright 2021 by V. J. Chambers

  http://vjchambers.com

  Punk Rawk Books

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  CHAPTER ONE

  HAYSLE Dawson shook her head. “Well, I know that it’s not technically our jurisdiction, since the bodies that we’re tentatively assigning to Destiny Worth were found in Delaware. But Phineas Slater is in jail here in Virginia, and he’s only speaking to me, no one else.”

  That wasn’t exactly true.

  Slater would have spoken to Liam Emerson. However, Liam wasn’t speaking to Slater, not anymore. Dawson couldn’t blame him, considering Slater had raped him, captured him, kept him imprisoned in a dog crate, threatened his stepdaughter, and psychologically tortured him.

  The two of them didn’t have what anyone might call a healthy relationship.

  But then, how did one have a healthy relationship with a serial killer?

  Ezra Jackson, who worked at the Cape Christopher district attorney’s office, was sitting with Dawson in his office downtown. He had sandy hair which he kept close-cropped to his skull, and he ran his hand over the top of his head. “So, let me get this straight, then. You want me to cut Slater a deal based on the fact he can give us information on this Destiny Worth person?”

  “Yes,” said Dawson. “I sent over information about Destiny Worth, but I’m happy to go through it with you again, if you’d like?”

  “Yeah, sure, refresh my memory.” Jackson sat back in his chair.

  Dawson didn’t mind that Jackson hadn’t read anything she’d sent over. She knew that his life was a mess of paperwork, and that he was busy. She also didn’t mind that they were both pretending that he had read it. She couldn’t let little annoyances like that get to her. She had to stay focused on her goal.

  “Well, we believe that Destiny Worth is not only a serial killer herself, but that she’s the head of a nearly cult-like organization, and that she has people brainwashed to do her bidding. She has been manipulating Slater since he was in college. He claims there was a long period of of time when he thought she was dead. We can’t confirm that, but we do know that she was actively killing people during that time, because of the bodies we found in the freezer in Delaware.”

  “This is the one where pieces of them were in that horrible bouquet while you were chasing Slater?”

  “Yes,” she said. “The bouquet had limbs from one of Slater’s victims, and then two of Worth’s victims.”

  “But how can you be sure that they’re not all Slater’s victims, and that he’s not just playing you?”

  “Well, we can’t be sure,” she said. “But when Slater was first caught, we did have the help of a profiler, and if Slater is also doing these other kills, then he’s like no other serial killer on record since the dawn of time. So, we’re fairly sure that this is the work of two different people, and we feel as though Worth has been pulling Slater’s strings.”

  “If she’s so good at manipulating him, why do you think he’s actually going to roll over on her?” said Jackson.

  “They had a falling out,” said Dawson. “She was supporting him financially after he escaped from prison, but then he broke away from her. In fact, he set up a meeting with her, killed two of her… I don’t know what to call them? Let’s say, two of her followers? And then he captured her. And he also captured me. Which is how we got him back behind bars to begin with.”

  “Right, right.” Jackson picked up a pencil and began tapping the eraser absently against his desk. “No, I remember all this. This is ringing a bell.”

  “He knows he’s never going to be free again,” said Dawson. “So, what he’s asking is to be transferred to a mental health facility instead of jail, and for the death penalty to be taken off the table. And if we can get a plea like that on the table for him, he’s going to tell me what I need to know in order to find Destiny Worth.”

  Jackson sighed.

  “I know,” she said. “I told him the mental health facility is a big ask. I do think he’s mentally ill, but he’s also diabolical.”

  “And he escaped from prison once already,” said Jackson. “So, putting him somewhere with less security? Why would we do that?”

  “Believe me, the reason it’s taken me so long to come to you with anything at all is that he’s got typical psychopathic grandiose notions about how he should be free again. It’s taken me months to finally get it through his skull that could never happen.”

  Jackson chuckled. “Really? So, he’s completely out of touch with reality?”

  “I’ve had his attorney talk to him about it too,” she said. “He’s stubborn.”

  “It’s not just the mental health facility.”

  “You don’t want to take the death penalty off the table?”

  “We have DNA,” said Jackson. “We have video evidence. There is no reason for us to make a plea deal. We take this to trial, there is zero chance that it doesn’t go our way.”

  She sighed.

  “Have you explained this to him?”

  She nodded, feeling dejected. She had known this likely wouldn’t go well, but she’d wanted to try to make the case to the district attorney’s office herself. She thought that perhaps if they knew that making a deal with Slater could help bring another killer to justice, it would make a difference.

  “Hey, have you ever seen those videos?” said Jackson.

  She lifted her gaze to his. “What? What videos?”

  “Slater’s snuff collection,” said Jackson. “Maybe you want to check those out before you continue fighting for this jackass’s life.”

  She licked her lips.

  “Unless you’ve seen them, and it didn’t faze you.”

  “I haven’t seen them,” she admitted. “But it doesn’t matter. I’m not saying that Slater deserves mercy. I know he’s a monster. But if we can catch another monster, a woman who has financial resources and utter influence over a group of people—”

  “I thought that women never killed like that, anyway,” Jackson said, shrugging. “I thought female serial killers were usually just killing for money, or knocking off one husband after another, or putting pillows over old people’s faces in nursing homes.”

  “Or having babies and killing all of them in the cradles, one right after the other, for attention?” Dawson glared at him. “Are we really going to have the conversation about how women can’t po
ssibly be evil enough to commit serial murder?”

  “I just thought the pathology was different,” he said.

  “Sure,” she said. “There are differences. What’s your point? Are you trying to say that Worth didn’t kill anyone? Because I have witnesses, and I have bodies, and I have evidence. But I can’t find her. Not without Slater’s help.”

  Jackson spread his hands. “Look, I’m not trying to be offensive or anything, Miss Dawson.”

  “Detective Dawson,” she said, nostrils flaring.

  “But, detective, I think we both know that there are differences between men and women. Don’t we? I mean, if there weren’t, you yourself wouldn’t have, um, been so confused when you were young, right? If there was no difference, you never would have tried to be a man?”

  Dawson went rigid. Who did this guy think he was? Yes, she’d transitioned and begun taking male hormones as a teenager, and then eventually realized she’d made a mistake and detransitioned. But to use that against her to makes some stupid point about a case was disgusting.

  “Anyway, I think if we look at cases historically in which a man and woman are killing together, we usually find that the man is the mastermind, and the woman is just being strung along, typically because she’s being abused and coerced by the man.”

  “Or,” said Dawson tersely, “the woman is diabolical and intelligent enough to make a deal with the police, alleging that she’s being abused, so that she can go free and we can preserve the idea that men are monsters and women are innocent lambs.”

  He laughed softly. “I’m not saying women can’t do horrible things, detective. I’m not saying this Destiny Worth person isn’t guilty. Of course, she needs to be punished. But I’m hesitant to make a deal with Slater just to get her.”

  “Right,” she said.

  “Slater’s going to get the needle,” said Jackson. “He can’t wriggle out of that. That man deserves to die, and I’m not going to be the person who lets him off the hook.”

  IT was still warm when Dawson got home that evening. The sun was heavy in the sky, but the early September air still felt like summer. She sat down on the deck on her roof and looked out over the row of houses that separated hers from the ocean.

  She couldn’t believe she was still paying the rent on this place. She couldn’t afford it, and she kept reminding herself that if she would move somewhere else, she could probably find room in her budget for little luxuries like grocery delivery or new bras. She could easily save a few hundred dollars a month if she moved.

  And yet, she stayed here. She’d managed to lock in the winter price for this place during the summer months this time, which had been pretty lucky, since this place was often rented out as a vacation rental. Her landlord liked her, probably liked the steady income in the winter as well, and had cut her a break.

  So, she convinced herself it was worth it to stay, and as she basked in the summer sun, staring out at the horizon where the ocean met the sky, it felt worth it.

  Something about that view gave her a sense of peace, and she needed it.

  She wanted this damned case over with.

  Right after they’d locked Slater up six months ago or so, she’d moved on from the case entirely to take another homicide case. It was fairly open and shut, mostly a matter of gathering evidence and making the arrest. She hadn’t liked it, not the way that she’d been captivated by Slater’s case, and so she’d asked her captain if she could be transferred to the Robbery Division, which was where her background was.

  She’d never worked homicide until this case, and she’d only been transferred in because of her ties to the LGBTQ community, because she could liaison with Liam Emerson. Now, Liam was out of the picture entirely, trying to move on with his life, and there was no reason for her to stay in homicide.

  Captain Moore had agreed, and she’d started to get settled into her new department, getting into the rhythm of those sorts of cases, which she liked, because they were all about locating lost things. Perhaps the manhunt for Slater had been right up her alley because it had been similar—only she’d been locating a lost man instead of a car or jewelry or a prize-winning poodle.

  And then, Slater had started requesting her to visit him in jail.

  Since it was her case, she had done it.

  Before she knew it, she was pulled back into this. She was working with the Branwen Police Department in Delaware, who were putting together a case against Destiny Worth and trying to bring her in. If they could arrest Worth, it was over.

  She could close the door on this entire chapter of her life. She found herself longing for that more and more often these days.

  Her cell phone rang, shattering her thoughts.

  She lifted it and was surprised to see that she was getting a call from Carter Simms, her ex-boyfriend. She hadn’t spoken to him in months now. She wondered why he might be calling, and she answered, more out of curiosity than out of any desire to speak to him again.

  “So, this is going to sound weird,” he said to her, after they’d gone through their greetings. She noted that he’d taken pains to call her Haysle, and not Hayes, which was the name she’d gone by when they’d been together. That had been difficult for Carter to remember in the past.

  “Weird good?” she said.

  “So, I’m kind of in a new relationship,” he said.

  “Um, congrats?” she said.

  “It’s serious,” he said.

  “I’m really happy for you.” Had he called to gloat or something?

  “We’re not getting any younger, and we’ve been looking into our options for, um, children,” he said. “And you and I both know what it’s like to try to adopt or do a surrogate. It’s prohibitively expensive, and, uh, well… I got to thinking about you.”

  “About me?” she said. “What do I have to do with you having a kid with your new boyfriend?”

  “Fiancé,” he said.

  “Congrats,” she said again. She was thinking strongly about hanging up. This was more painful than she liked to admit. She had been married to her job for months now, no time to date, not that it was easy to date when she had a deep voice and more body hair to remove than most women. It was difficult enough for anyone to find a person to make a meaningful connection with another person, but Dawson had her personal issues, and she wasn’t exactly young anymore, at thirty. She didn’t think the odds of her settling down with someone were favorable.

  “I was just thinking about how we had talked about a kid together,” he said. “And I know you still want to have a kid.”

  “I’m not being your surrogate, Carter.” Was he insane?

  “Not surrogate,” he said. “I’m thinking, like, a planned shared family. You know, when people get divorced, they split custody. This would be like that, only we’d do it from the beginning.”

  “That’s crazy,” she said.

  “Is it, though?” He was grinning. She could hear it in his voice. “Think about how tough it is to raise a kid, how much they say it takes a village and all that. Now, think of having built-in childcare if you get called in on a case in the middle of the night. Think of having a life balance between work and self-care and family because you’re sharing the responsibilities of raising a kid. And from my perspective, I always worry about raising a kid without a strong feminine role model, but our kid would have a mom, you know? I just… I know it’s unconventional, but we’re unconventional.”

  She was quiet. Maybe it wasn’t as crazy as she had initially thought.

  “I read some studies that they’ve done about trans men coming off testosterone to carry children, and the testosterone does not seem to have any bad effects on their eggs or fertility. So, I don’t think you’d need to worry about that.”

  She’d researched this already, of course. They both had.

  “We could be flexible in the beginning, especially if you want to breastfeed,” he said. “We could just have the baby for day trips and maybe only one overnight a week. We could
work out any schedule that would work for you. We’d let you run the show. We could also legally get the joint custody set up so that we could both be protected, but if you and I are the biological parents of the child, you know that we’re going to be in the best possible position never to have real legal problems.”

  “Carter…” She hesitated. “This is a huge thing you’re proposing. And I live forty-five minutes away now.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “But we can move. Jeff and I are willing to relocate to be closer to you. We like it in Cape Christopher. It’s great up there.”

  “You can’t expect me to just agree. I’d need to think about it,” she said. “And I suppose it goes without saying that we’re not, um, going to attempt to create this child by having, uh, intercourse?”

  “No way,” he said. “That would be incredibly weird. There are other ways to insert, um… I mean, I can easily bring…”

  “Your fiance is cool with it being your biological child and not his?”

  “Yeah,” said Carter. “He’s actually got fertility issues, low motility and stuff. He knows this because he was trying before. So, I’m the better candidate.”

  “Right,” she said.

  “You will think about it, though? You’re not saying no.”

  “I’m not saying no,” she murmured, gazing out at the horizon, at the peaceful water.

  Yes, what would be better than anything she could imagine would be to tie up this stupid case, to move out of homicide once and for all, and to start a family. She wanted to be a mother. It was one of the things that had convinced her to transition. She knew, deep down, she’d never be a father.

  “Well, great,” he said.

  “Yeah,” she said.

  “WHAT do you mean, he said no?” Slater’s face was a mask of fury. “After everything I gave up for this plea deal, you said that he would—”

  “They want to kill you,” Dawson interrupted. She was sitting on the opposite side of a table in an interrogation room in the Southeast Correctional Institution. It was an hour’s drive away from her home. Slater had originally been locked up in the Lowlands Correctional Facility, which was just outside Cape Christopher, but since he’d escaped from that prison, it wasn’t deemed safe for him to go back there.