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universitypenguin · 8 months

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Chapter 25

Summary: Doubts about Nguyen arise in the stalker case and the murder case. Princess and Lloyd review the evidence and decide where to focus their efforts as they race against the clock to rescue Laine Cruz.

Word Count: 6,182

Masterlist

Warning: This story contains content that is intended for those who are at least eighteen years old, such as strong language, sex, sexual content, and references to murder, kidnapping and criminal elements.

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Chapter XXV

Jake Jensen was in nerd heaven and you loved that for him.

He sat at a desk in the middle of the D.C. Metro Police station bullpen. A female detective from cyber crimes was leaning over his shoulder. She was slender with a pixie cut and delicate facial features that reminded you of Audrey Hepburn. Jake’s fingers flew over the keyboard of your work laptop as he explained how your system had been hacked.

You hung back, settling into the guest chair across from Detective Diskant’s desk, fifteen feet away from the computer nerd fest. Diskant hadn’t shown up yet. He’d called after your allergist appointment to ask if Jake could bring in your work laptop and go over it with cybercrimes. You looked around the semi-deserted bullpen. A few uniforms stood around, talking near the front desk. There were a couple offices around the central area that appeared occupied, but it seemed most of the detectives were out and about. This gave you mixed feelings. It might be good to have the police force on the street, present in the communities they served, but where was their back up? Was everyone else at a conference or a training in-service or was the station always this empty?

Trying not to stare at Jake and the lady cop, you searched your purse for a nail file. It had been ages since you’d gotten a manicure and long past time for a good re-shaping. As you filed, you tried to be subtle about glancing over at the computer nerds. The lady cop laid a hand on Jake’s shoulder and smiled.

You couldn’t catch the words but you knew body language. That head tilt and the sly glance that darted away once eye contact was made was straight out of Flirting 101. Despite the clear signals the lady cop was throwing down, they still went over Jake’s head.

“Princess, can you come over here?” Jake asked.

You winced at the expression that flashed across the lady cop’s face as she withdrew her hand from Jake’s personal space.

“What’s up?” you asked, moving to stand behind Jake’s chair but keeping a respectful distance between you.

“Look at this,” Jake said, pointing to the screen.

You examined the string of numbers he indicated. “What am I looking at, again?”

“It’s an IP address from Bishop & Howard.”

“Uh-huh.”

“This is where the attack originated. Also, it came through our server.”

“So we know who was behind the attack?”

Jake sighed. “Not exactly. We know where it came from. The naming convention of the IP address doesn’t exactly match the company’s standard, but some departments do use unique identifiers.”

“Don’t you guys keep an inventory list of all the active IP addresses?”

“I already ran it through the list. No match.”

“But it came from our server?”

The lady cop cleared her throat. “Is there any reason a particular department would have a computer with a unique IP address?”

“Usually they’re marking computers that are designed for sensitive information, but most of them aren’t connected to the internet.”

“We should ask what departments use unlisted computers,” she said.

“I doubt they’d just hand that information over,” Jake replied.

“But this narrows down the suspect list to employees of Bishop & Howard,” the female detective said.

“How else can we match this IP address?” you asked.

“I’ve set up one of the specialized computers for an investigation before. The format of the IP address includes a project code, security level, and identifying number for the system. If I do some digging, I might be able to figure out who’s computer this is.”

Reading between the lines, you knew ‘digging’ meant ‘hacking’ but didn’t call him on it in front of the cyber crimes detective.

“I didn’t realize those specialized computers were connected to our servers.”

Jake rubbed a hand over his face. “They’re not supposed to be. But clearly whoever’s stalking you is tech savvier than we thought. It’s like someone deliberately used the untraceable system to cover their tracks."

Detective Diskant finally entered the room, carrying a laptop under his arm. He stopped at the desk where Jake sat and placed it down.

“You need to see this,” he said, pressing play on a video file.

At first it seemed like footage of an airport, but when the angle shifted you recognized the platform at Washington Union Station. A train pulled up and passengers disembarked. Diskant pressed pause when the video reached a certain frame.

“Recognize anyone?”

“Nguyen,” Jake said.

You scanned the crowd, looking for the familiar face. It wasn’t until Jake pointed him out that you recognized Shun Nguye. He was in the center of the screen, blending into the blur of travelers.

“We need to reconsider the prime suspect in your stalking case,” Diskant said.

“What?”

“Look at the time stamp,” Jake said.

“August 16th, at 11 A.M,” you read.

“Unless Nguyen has developed the ability to be in two places at once, he couldn’t have attacked Princess in Lloyd’s backyard and been in the train station.”

You closed your eyes feeling weak. “That explains the photos,” you murmured.

“What photos?” Diskant asked.

“The pictures left on my car. It was right after the birthday dinner with my family. I remembered them yesterday. The timing didn’t make sense. Nguyen couldn’t have taken them, not by himself.”

“Right. Based on this, we can rule him out, but it’s suspicious that he’d return to Virginia.”

“We’re back where we started, with no idea who my stalker is,” you said.

Diskant inclined his head, acknowledging your statement. “No, we don’t.”

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Lloyd spent the afternoon in a coffee shop transcribing his interview with Tate Corbin. Despite his aversion to such establishments, they offered reliable internet which was a service he desperately needed. Still, the saccharine sayings painted on the walls, boldly advocating the joys of chemical dependence in Brush Script font, were hard to stomach. He didn’t find the artistic photos of coffee plants hanging beside his table any more palatable than the quotes.

The pictures grated on his nerves; at least the drug dens he’d frequented hadn’t been plastered with photographs idolizing the coca plant. In truth, these images were captured with the same propagandistic intent as the works of other renowned visual manipulators like Dmitri Baltermants. However, the Soviet photojournalist had composed his photos with nuance and emotion - qualities sorely lacking in these uninspired shots.

Lloyd glanced at his watch and saw that it was still too early to call you. He sipped the last of his mint tea, watching the crowd queuing for their 2:30 fix.

“I can’t get anything done after noon unless I’ve had three shots of espresso,” a woman in line declared.

He waited for her companion’s response, anticipating that three shots of espresso per day ought to warrant some kind of self-reflection, but the woman’s associate nodded understandingly. Really? That was it? Why did no one offer her the intervention she clearly needed?

Behind the counter baristas poured beverages into plastic and styrofoam cups and passed them to waiting addicts. Cocaine was an indefensible habit, but at least its packaging wasn’t a significant driver of microplastic pollution. Those damn cups had to rank among the worst inventions society had ever dreamt up. They were somewhere near the top, probably right in between Jake Paul’s career and neonicotinoids.

At 2:45 his patience had worn thin. Lloyd grabbed his keys and headed for the door. Driving back to D.C. wasn’t part of his agenda, but he was on the cusp of an outburst that would earn him an invitation to never come back, so the forty minute drive to Zach’s office was worthwhile.

He set up in the spare office you’d taken over and laid out his notes when the door swung open, and you stalked in, looking upset.

“Princess?”

You shrieked and jumped a foot in the air. Lloyd blinked, ears ringing from the assault on his eardrums. You were pressed against the wall clutching your heart with one hand and cradling your purse to your abdomen like it was a shield. He sat very still.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

You groaned, closing your eyes and sinking down the wall, crumpling. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah? Well, you don’t sound fine. Or look it.”

Lloyd stood up, moving around the desk and approaching you. He took the purse from your hands and dropped it on the spare chair, then dragged you into his arms. You melted into the embrace, tucking your head in the crook of his shoulder. He smoothed a hand down your back and listened as you breathed deeply.

“Bad allergist appointment?” he asked.

“Not really. It turns out that I have an aspirin allergy, which we already knew. How was your interview?”

“Unsatisfying.”

“Why?”

“It ended up killing more leads than it generated. What’s wrong?”

“I had a meeting with Detective Diskant after my appointment. Nguyen isn’t my stalker.” You filled him in. “So, Jake’s running down the information from the hack but we’re back at square one.”

Lloyd reached behind you and closed the blinds to the office window, then took your hands and guided you to the office chair behind the desk. He sat down and drew you onto his lap, positioning your legs to rest over the arm of the chair.

“I wrote up some timelines for the Harmony case,” you said, looping your arms around his shoulders.

He glanced over at the murder board you’d arranged on the office wall. Part of him wanted to dive into your meeting with Diskant but looking at your face, he knew that wasn’t a topic you were ready to pursue. Not right now, at least.

“I see that. Did you learn anything at the bible camp?”

“Li Wei had a secret boyfriend during the spring of 1999.”

Lloyd groaned. “Not another secret relationship. What is it with women and hiding their love lives from investigators?”

“Don’t ask me. Anyway, that revelation was the highlight of the trip, but it got me thinking about the timelines of the case.”

“Timelines, plural?”

“Yeah. I’ve been playing around with the theory that the cases weren’t actually connected since the beginning. I know it might seem unlikely for two prolific killers to be operating in the same area at the same time, but the differences in victimology are so stark it has to be considered.”

“And the timelines changed your mind.”

“If there was evidence of two killers, it seems like we’d have found something pointing in that direction by now.”

“But you’re not letting the theory go?” Lloyd asked.

“Not yet, but I’d rather focus on the evidence. I started by reviewing the events from 1999,” you said, pointing to the wall. “Li Wei’s boyfriend is the first event. Then, on June 14th, she and her daughter, Zoe, disappear. Two weeks later, the first of Harmony’s missing women, Stacey Moore, was abducted.”

“You think there’s a connection?”

“The timing makes me wonder if that killing was a trigger for the perpetrator. Another possibility is that he viewed Li Wei and Zoe as a… test run, of sorts.”

“That speaks to his behavior. He’s controlled, premeditated, and careful. If he captured Zoe first that would have given him leverage over Li Wei.”

“Exactly. And if we look at our suspect list, something else that comes up on the 1999 timeline is the connection between Shun Nguyen and the other parties.”

Lloyd straightened, adjusting you on his lap. “There’s something linking Nguyen and Li Wei? What is it?”

“Nothing. I looked high and low, but there’s no connection. I can’t even establish that he was ever in Fredericksburg. His only connection to Li Wei is through Julia, who he didn’t meet until late 2000.”

“When was his residency interview at the hospital?”

“June 18, 1999. After the interview on Friday, he spent the night at a hotel, drove back to D.C. in the morning and took a train home to New York.”

“Which we already knew,” Lloyd grumbled.

“I know, I’m just trying to organize things so they make sense. And you know what really doesn’t make any sense?”

“The idea of Nguyen commuting between New York City and a small town outside of D.C. to kill random strangers almost a full year before he knew he’d be living there,” Lloyd said.

“We don’t have much in terms of physical evidence, so we’ve been using behavioral profiling to try and understand the killer’s actions. Know what’s more accurate than behavioral profiling? Geographical profiling. Scientists use it all the time.”

“I’m not arguing with you. The case against Nguyen always hinged on his connection to Julia and his knowledge and access to chemicals.”

“There’s a distinct pattern in these early crimes and it points to someone local. Abducting nine people and never leaving behind a trace requires planning and preparation. Nguyen couldn’t have spared the time for all that in 1999.”

“Which brings us to 2000, when he moved to Harmony.”

“He moved in July. A week later, Kayla Ballesta went missing, which sounds damning until you account for the car accident Nguyen had been in two months earlier.”

Lloyd grunted. “Yeah, but who could fake an injury better than a doctor?”

“Radiology doesn’t lie. He wasn’t in any shape to abduct Kayla that July.”

“Do we have his radiology reports?”

“No, but Peter Shaw had them. According to his article in the Rolling Stone, he had two different orthopedic surgeons review the images. They both confirmed the severity of Nguyen’s fracture.”

“It’s compelling, but you know what else is compelling?” Lloyd asked.

“What?”

“After Nguyen was arrested the disappearances stopped. That’s too much of a coincidence to ignore.”

“You know what else is too much to ignore? An open book pelvic fracture.”

“Mmmh.”

You chuckled at the wrinkle of disgust that passed over Lloyd’s face and stroked his jaw with the back of your fingers. “I went through all the evidence from 2001, which didn’t take long because there’s almost no evidence to speak of.”

“There was more evidence at Julia’s crime scene than any of the others,” Lloyd said.

“She went missing either on April 17th or 18th and her body was found encased in concrete beside Cub Run Trail a few days later. Police identified the remains about a week after finding them and Nguyen was arrested in August.”

“Going back to the behavioral evidence, we can establish a few things for sure. Starting with the obvious, the serial killer is knowledgeable and capable at using chemicals. He has access to them somehow and might have a secondary location where he can treat the bodies.”

“Which we know from the remains found at the trail,” you said.

“Right. Julia’s bones were brittle and crumbled when touched, which is a property of exposure to a strong base. If they’d been soaked in acid the bones would’ve been rubbery and flexible. Nguyen’s chemical training and access to materials through the hospital led the police to focus on him.”

“But he was never tried for any of the other murders and everything that made him a suspect was circumstantial.”

“Ninety percent of the case against Nguyen amounts to fact that the disappearances stopped after he was out of the picture,” Lloyd reminded you.

“It’s also interesting that Li Wei, Zoe, and Julia’s remains were all treated the same, even though there’s three years between their cases.”

“All the bodies found beside the trail were disposed of by the exact same method. It’s too specific for a copy cat - unless the original perpetrator told someone precisely where they left the first two victims.”

“Wouldn’t they have had to describe the chemicals and methodology, too?” you asked.

“For the results to be this uniform? Absolutely.”

“What about victimology? That’s always been a huge question for me. All the killer’s known victims are female but aside from that, things start to get murky.”

You gestured to the photos on the wall, where the six portraits of the missing women were grouped. “They match a specific type. They were average build, natives of eastern coastal Virginia, with advanced degrees and professional jobs. Li Wei doesn’t match the pattern, and neither does Julia.”

“But the real outlier is Zoe,” Lloyd pointed out.

“Agreed. Which is why we’re paying Annabeth Green a duke’s ransom to run a paternity test on her remains and identify her father.”

“You set me up for that one, Princess.”

“I have to spread the blame around. Do you know what she charges for that kind of a test?”

Lloyd snorted. “Do you?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Her secretary just emailed me the invoice.”

“What’s the goal of the paternity test?”

“To identify a new suspect. After going through all the evidence, our suspect list is pretty barren. Nguyen was too far away to have killed the victims from 1999 and there’s no connection between him and Li Wei Chapman. He wasn’t able to kill the first victim from 2000 because of his injury. And when it comes down to it, I don’t think he killed Julia, either.”

Lloyd ran his tongue around his teeth.“I agree. He didn’t have the opportunity. That was established by the Virginia Supreme Court beyond any reasonable doubt. Did you find anything on Leo McKenzie?”

You shook your head. “Nothing new. The Fairfax Sheriff’s Department hasn’t sent me a copy of their file on him, either.”

“They’re not known for their inter-agency cooperation.”

“Well, it probably doesn’t matter if I have their file or not, because Zach got a copy of McKenzie’s discharge papers from the Army. His back injury is serious enough to exclude him from suspicion. That leaves Tate Corbin. How’d your interview with him go?”

“Not great. He has an alibi for two of the abductions thanks to a biennial fishing trip with his merchant marine buddies.”

Lloyd gave you the details of Corbin’s alibi and you scribbled down the information, making a note to contact the witnesses tomorrow morning.

“Also, get this. There was only one other person who bothered checking out Corbin as a suspect. You’ll never guess who it was.”

“Detective Roth?”

“Peter Shaw.”

You chuckled. “Ouch.”

Lloyd gathered you closer, his eyes falling half closed as he nuzzled your neck. “Yeah.”

“He didn’t give an alibi for Julia’s murder, though.”

“I knew he wasn’t the one before he produced the alibi,” Lloyd said.

“How?”

“His reactions were off. This killer has flown under the radar for too long. His public mask is impeccable.”

“And Corbin…?”

“Corbin is weird. There’s no mask. He wasn’t interested in talking about the missing victims. Then, when I finally got him talking, he wasn’t curious.”

“Why would the real killer be curious? He knows more about them than we do.”

“He’d want to know what we had. The question of evidence would’ve been brought up, but Corbin couldn’t have cared less. The real killer would’ve been excited by the conversation, but he’d have masked the reaction. Corbin was ambivalent. And the last reason is the same as the first,” Lloyd said. “He’s too weird to be the killer. He’s loud, opinionated, and obnoxious. He doesn’t fly under the radar at all.”

You giggled. “Eliminated from suspicion because of his personality…”

Lloyd rolled his eyes. “We’re looking for a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Corbin is a peacock.”

“Well, we’ve shaved the suspect list down to zero. Nguyen’s off the list for lack of opportunity. McKenzie isn’t physically capable of abducting anything bigger than a puppy. The most promising suspect, Tate Corbin, is off the list for being sane, and he has an alibi for multiple abductions.”

“We’re out of suspects.”

“Which sucks, because there’s a missing woman who needs us to figure this out.”

“Well, at least we know we’re looking for a strong base. Corbin completely sealed his innocence in my mind when he brought up an acidic mine as the potential disposal site.”

You sat up in Lloyd’s lap, nearly elbowing him in the stomach. “What acid? Where?”

Lloyd grumbled and caught your legs. He wrapped an arm around your knees, holding you captive. “Copper Ridge Quarry. It’s south of Harmony and it’s been abandoned for decades. The government has spent billions containing the toxic sludge.”

“Copper Ridge Quarry. That sounds familiar.”

“It’s a super-fund site. Every year the exposed ore reacts with rain and ground water and produces new runoff. Until someone figures out how to stop the reactions, the acid will keep getting more concentrated every year.”

“Gross. Hang on, let me check something.”

Lloyd eased his grip and let you reach your laptop. He waited as you typed, flipping through pages of the database you’d organized months ago.

“Here. Copper Ridge Quarry is in the database.”

“They already checked it out?”

“Mmmhh… According to the file summary, NASA sent a robot into one of the acid pools in the 80s and it was never seen again.”

“Did it return any data?” Lloyd asked.

“No. It looks like the investigation into Copper Ridge wasn’t very thorough. The first time they checked it out was in October of 2000. The local police’s resources were stretched thin. Between processing evidence from the abduction sites, organizing massive searches, and running down other leads, Copper Ridge didn’t get much attention.”

“What about later?” Lloyd asked.

“They tried again in 2001 when Stephanie Young disappeared, but there were conflicts with the search warrants. Some of the land around Copper Ridge is privately owned and required a compelling reason to search private property, which they didn’t have. In the end, they searched all the public land they had consent to access, but that’s it.”

“An acidic mine site is an intriguing lead, but we don’t have any evidence the killer uses acid.”

“Is that really a logical jump?” you questioned.

“Scientists use strong bases in labs to remove flesh from skeletons. If you expose the bones for longer, about five to six hours with some heat, they crumble.”

“That’s not possible with acid?”

“It would work,” Lloyd admitted. “It might even do a better job of completely dissolving them, but it’s more dangerous. The acids strong enough aren’t safe to handle. Sodium hydroxide on the other hand, comes as a salt. It’s much easier to obtain and if you got it on your skin it might cause a rash, but that’s it. You have to dissolve it in water before it’s dangerous.”

“But Copper Ridge would eliminate the need for him to obtain chemicals. Assuming he had a way in, it mitigates the risk of being caught by purchasing records or his professional access.”

“If he had a traditional education, he’d lean towards a base,” Lloyd said.

“If he’s smart enough to use a base, why not use an acid? It’s all chemistry at the end of the day.”

“Following the same logic, why not dispose of Julia’s body the same way as Li Wei and Zoe’s? The crimes were three years apart. He’d have had time to perfect his methods,” Lloyd said.

“That’s been my biggest gripe with all the victims being connected. But this afternoon, I remembered something Marco said when I explained the case. He commented that it was ‘like he put the sisters together,’ with how he disposed of Julia. It meant more to me before we learned Li Wei was actually Julia’s cousin. But now, what if he had the same motive both times?”

“We haven’t considered his motives.”

“I have. If you lay out the whole timeline, Li Wei and Zoe were his first victims and they’re both anomalies in victimology. Li Wei wasn’t born in the U.S., but she did grow up here. She dropped out of college freshman year and didn’t finish a bachelor’s degree, let alone a masters. She worked at her parent’s bible camp, which was a far cry from a professional job, like the other victims. And she doesn’t fit the physical victim type, either. She was too tall.”

“And Julia’s the same. Too tall and too thin, no degrees, no job. Plus, she really was foreign.”

“Right. Li Wei could have passed for a Virginia native, but there was no way he mistook Julia for an American. Where’s the motive, though?” Lloyd asked.

“If they don’t fit victimology there must be a motive. That’s why I really wanted the paternity test on Zoe. Usually, with a child victim, the perpetrator is one of the parents. We can rule out her mother, which leaves the father.”

“What about Julia?”

“She was digging into Li Wei’s death. If the killer found out, wouldn’t he have been compelled to interfere?”

“Yes, but why not dispose of her like he did all the other victims? If your theory about Copper Ridge is correct, he had the perfect disposal method. I can imagine him failing on his first attempt to dissolve a body with a strong base, but going back to the failed method three years later? That’s stupid.”

“Or it’s incredibly smart. Anyone who found all three victims, encased in two different concrete slabs, beside a popular jogging trail, albeit, in a remote area of said trail, would’ve connected the dots. Then they would’ve connected the victims. Julia arrived in the U.S. in 1997. It’s plausible to imagine a connection. We only know there wasn’t one because of Aliyah.”

“The killer was making sure the cases would be connected.”

“But when no one found the second slab, Nguyen was arrested and the rumor mill started up, claiming he was connected to the six missing women,” you said.

“The killer was handed the perfect scapegoat on a platter. So, he stopped killing and as far as public opinion went, no more disappearances meant they’d collared the right guy.”

“I know it’s a lot of theory, but looking at the whole sequence from 1999 to 2002, how the killing started with Li Wei and Zoe, then stopped after Julia, it’s almost like a full circle.”

“He didn’t stop, though. If he had, Zach and I wouldn’t be spending our Monday night on a search party for Laine Cruz,” Lloyd said.

“What if this is a copycat?” You sighed at your own question and shook your head. “The problem with all this theory is that we don’t have any evidence to back it up. Paradoxically, we have more evidence than anyone else who worked the case ever did.”

“We’re here because Roth searched an old crime scene and got lucky,” Lloyd said.

“There’s solid evidence suggesting the killer is knowledgeable in chemistry. He’s proven capable with them, and we have physical evidence that two of his victims were disposed of with a strong base. We also know his access to these chemicals wasn’t a fluke because he used them twice - once in 1999 and again in 2002.”

“And the concrete slab itself is evidence,” Lloyd said. “He knows how to mix, form, and set a concrete slab by himself. It’s not as specific as his advanced chemical knowledge, but it’s still a proven ability.”

“He’s prepared and careful, so disposing of the bodies wouldn’t have been the first time he worked with concrete. That makes sense,” you said.

“He’s also shown to be quite knowledgeable of the local area. Abducting six women without leaving any witnesses isn’t easy. Also, he’s familiar enough with Cub Run Trail to dispose of bodies there twice. It was a remote section of the trail, sure, but that points to him knowing the area.”

“And getting them up there? He’s got to be physically fit.”

“Unlike Leo McKenzie. We have evidence that Julia’s teeth were destroyed with a gunshot, and the .22 shell casings found in Nguyen’s yard after she went missing. It’s not difficult to get a gun in the D.C. area, but let’s add it to the list.”

“Also, the last fact, but maybe the most important: he had the opportunity to commit all nine murders.”

Lloyd grunted. “How do we know so much about him, but still don’t have a suspect?”

“He’s careful and prepared. Speaking of that, what about the woman that went missing on Friday night? Have they found any evidence at the scene of her abduction?”

“Laine Cruz. The search isn’t going well. They found her car abandoned in town with a dead battery. It could have been sabotage or the perpetrator saw an opportunity and took advantage. Her purse was in the car, but not her cell phone. There’s been no activity on her bank cards and her phone is turned off.”

“What are they doing to find her?”

“The usual - tracking dogs, a search grid. It seems futile,” Lloyd said.

“Isn’t the definition of insanity doing the same thing over and over and hoping for a different result?” you asked.

“According to Einstein.”

“Search grids and dogs didn’t find any of the other missing women, did they?”

“No,” Lloyd conceded.

“We were brought in to investigate the new evidence and figure out if it was connected to the missing victims.”

“Are you saying they should call off the search?”

“No, but searching is their job - not ours. I think we should focus on following the evidence and investigating what we have.”

“You’re saying Zach and I shouldn’t join the search,” Lloyd said.

“Copper Ridge Quarry is a fresh lead. I think that’s where our time would be best spent.”

“Alright. We’ll do it. Are you okay with staying late at the office? I don’t know how long this’ll take.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ve got a mountain of paperwork to catch up on.”

Lloyd studied your expression and noted that you still looked upset. He slid a finger under your chin, turning your face up to his.

“Hey. It’s okay. Jake will find a new lead.”

“What if my stalker isn’t someone we would suspect?” you asked. “What if it’s totally random?”

“Don’t think about that. Let Jake and Landon worry about the stalker. Let me worry about him.”

Your eyes scanned his, filled with concern. There was nothing he could say, Lloyd realized. He changed tactics and lowered his gaze to your chest.

“How do your nipples feel? Still sore?”

“I…” you squirmed.

He ran a hand over the curve of your breast, feeling the gentle curve through the thin silk of your blouse. There were three layers of cloth between his fingertips and your flesh but he still felt the hardening of your nipple. You hissed and he paused.

“They’re not sore,” you said, reassuring him. “Just… tender.”

His lips curved. “What’s your current opinion on nipple clamps?”

“It’s an eighty-twenty split.”

“For or against?”

“For,” you admitted, lashes fluttering as you fought back shyness.

Lloyd squeezed you tight and explored your throat with soft, teasing kisses. You relaxed instantly, muscles loosening as your head fell back to give him more room. His free hand went to the fastenings on the front of your blouse, flicking open each tiny pearl button.

You caught his hand. “There’s a window on the door.”

“I closed the blinds,” Lloyd said.

“Oh.”

You let go and when he arched a brow, you nodded. He carefully undid each tiny button, flashing you an amused look.

“Did you plan on making it hard for me to undress you, or this coincidence?”

“Actually, I just thought the buttons were pretty.”

“They are. However, this is prettier,” Lloyd said, pushing open the silk and sliding off the thin straps of your camisole. He purred at the sight of your cream colored bra. “Front-clasp. I forgive you for the buttons.”

He flicked open your bra and you shivered at the sensation of cool air on delicate skin. Lloyd shifted you again, turning your body so your back was positioned to the door of the office. It wasn’t necessary, but you appreciated his awareness.

“Mmmhhh… still a little swollen,” he murmured, caressing his thumb over a puckered nipple. “They’re warm.”

You trembled when his hand moved up to curl around the back of your neck. He kissed your sternum and his mustache brushed your skin in a teasing dance. His facial hair wasn’t bristly, but it wasn’t soft, either. His hand slid from your throat to your collarbone and slowly cupped the weight of your left breast. Your eyes closed in pleasure.

“Lloyd.”

His cheek pressed to your sternum and you felt his hot breath against your tight nipple. The slow, gentle stroking of his thumb over your breast was restrained and controlled. You shuddered. Part of you wanted to beg for more. The other part knew the office door might have the blinds lowered, but it was still unlocked. Lloyd’s tender stroking was making your head go fuzzy. You arched your back in offering, but he didn’t react.

“Please,” you whined.

Lloyd made a rough sound and dropped his head, kissing a slow path across your chest, down your sternum to suckle the inner curve of your breast. Your fingers threaded into the cool strands of his hair as you pulled him toward where you needed him the most. As his mouth fastened around your nipple, you felt his lips curve into a smirk, but couldn’t bring yourself to care.

He’d finished lapping at the first straining nipple and moved onto the second when the door to your office swung open. You were so caught up in the moment that the noise barely registered. It wasn’t until the sound of a masculine voice cut through your mental haze that you gasped.

“What the fuck, Lloyd?! Hang a damn sock on the door next time!”

Zach’s shout brought your head around. The man had turned his back and clamped a hand over his eyes. Lloyd slowly released your nipple and raised his head.

“Have you heard of knocking?” he asked.

“I didn’t know you were in here!” Zach protested.

For some reason, you weren’t scrambling to fasten your bra in a panicked rush. Instead of embarrassment you felt dizzy with lust as Lloyd re-fastened your bra and returned the straps of your camisole to their original position. His eyes caught yours and he smiled, eyes glinting with something like pride. Whether it was at his own work or your lack of reaction to the embarrassment of being caught, you weren’t sure. He started from the bottom as he re-buttoned the tiny pearl fastenings of your shirt.

“Can I turn around?” Zach asked.

You grined at Lloyd, who’d only fastened two buttons of your blouse.

“Sure,” you said.

Zach turned half way, peeking from the corner of his eye. He nearly wrenched his neck out of place when he spun away again, unleashing a string of curses that would’ve made a sailor blush.

“Do you two mind? I don’t like walking into the middle of a porno in my own office!”

Lloyd snickered. “Please. Grow up, Zach. There were racier scenes than this on T.V. when you were a kid.”

“I’m going to wait in the truck!”

You giggled as Zach raced out of the office like something was chasing him and smirked at Lloyd when he finished doing up your blouse. “I take it you don’t share details about your sex life with Zach anymore?”

“If did, he’d probably knock my teeth out.” He wrapped his arms loosely around your waist. “Speaking of things that would send me to the dentist, why are you so calm about me forgetting to lock the door?”

You linked your hands behind his neck and shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought getting caught in a compromising position would be embarrassing but it wasn’t. I mean, Zach didn’t see any parts of me he hadn't seen before. We weren’t hiding the fact that we’re sleeping together, so he didn’t learn anything new.”

“Funny. You were a virgin three months ago and Zach’s the shrinking violet,” Lloyd snickered. He bent down and kissed you thoroughly. “I won’t be back until late. You’re sure you don’t want one of the guys to give you a ride home?”

“No. I’ll wait for you.”

Lloyd reached for his jacket and paused. “Princess, if you have time tonight, can you do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

“Go back through the footage of Nguyen’s interviews. There was a moment in there, something he said that I didn’t quite catch. It was like he had a slip of the tongue and then backpedaled to cover it up.”

“You just described his whole communication style,” you said.

“Yeah, that’s why I was driving myself nuts in Qatar, listening to the tapes over and over, trying to figure out what it was.”

“Okay. Do you remember which day it was on?”

“It was on the first day of interviews. I didn’t notice the slip until I listened to the audio of the interview on the flight out of Singapore. Maybe it’s nothing, because I haven’t been able to find it again, but at the time I was absolutely sure he’d said something important.”

“Maybe another set of ears will help.”

“Thanks, Princess. Don’t expect me until late, okay?”

“Good luck tonight.”

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Next - Chapter XXVI

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Masterlist

#series: the princess & the lawyer #the princess & the lawyer #series: the princess and the lawyer #the princess and the lawyer #lloyd hansen au #lloyd hansen fanfic #lloyd hansen x princess #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x y/n #lloyd hansen x female reader #lloyd hansen #chris evans characters #chris evans characters au #the gray man #the gray man fanfiction

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