Blackmail

Blackmail
Sam's POV

I went home, got my bath, and changed into something appropriate, and all through, I tried my possible best to get my mind off Rowan.
It wasn’t exactly easy, but not having his phone number or any way to ever contact him helped a lot. It saved me from giving in to that stupid, naive, and crazy side of me.
Last night was our last time together, and I pray it will be the last time I ever see him.
Thirty minutes after I got home, I walked back out of my door in my usual turtleneck and jacket, and my hair was heavily shampooed, the fragrance minting the air around me. Considering I had given in to a wild night on a beach, the hair needed thorough shampooing.
The events of last night crashed down on my mind as I strode for the car, and I found myself smiling into space, remembering how we made love on the beach, how beautiful it had been, and how passionate and desired I had felt. I realized a few minutes later that I was still standing beside my car, holding the car door and staring into space like a damn fool. Holy hell, I grunted to myself and shook it off, refusing to taint my thoughts any more so early in the morning.
I jumped into the car, taking my eyes off the biting sting of the harsh sunlight, and I drove to the precinct. I steered the car into my designated spot in the parking lot, and I hurried into the desk, falling behind my desk.
I looked around, making sure Alex wasn't around and none of the people that would spy on me for him were near, and then, I pulled out Lucy's phone from my pocket to look through it for the first time since Rowan left it for me. Captain James could take the case from me, but that doesn't mean I would take myself off the case.
This case has cost me so much in just a few days that I'd rather let it go to someone I knew would surely make a mess of it.
I went first to the call log, and like I suspected, there were a couple of unsaved numbers, and from those numbers, a particular number stuck out.
I snatched a pen and paper, and I scribbled it down, but I didn't move to check for it. It was probably a burner phone. Warden Karo wouldn't be stupid enough to call her with a real, traceable number. Also right now, I couldn't get the approval on the affidavit to get the number checked from the D.A.'s without alerting Alex or Captain James to what I am doing.
I tapped on the SMS log, and I didn't have to scroll for long when I spotted an SMS chat with the tag of the likely burner phone number. I flicked my finger on the phone screen, and it opened up a long chat.
I scowled fast at the top of the text.
“Hi, Lucy?” Warden Karo had texted on the evening of the 17th of two months ago, which would approximately be two months and a few days ago today.
Then no response from Lucy. A day after, he texted again. “Hello Lucy,” he said again. And still, she gave him no reply. An hour after the text, he texted again, “I know what you and your friends did that evening eight years ago. She was a sweet girl, but you all didn't give her a chance,” he had said.
For the first time then, Lucy replied to him. “What are you talking about, and who the hell are you?” I could almost picture her being here. Her tone and choice of words suggested she was really guilty of whatever the killer was talking about.
“You know what I am talking about, Lucy. And as for who I am, you will find out soon.” Warden Karo replied.
I could already tell what this was setting up to be—blackmail. Warden Karo didn't just kill them; he was blackmailing them. That must be why Cecilia had been terrified when she received his call that day and Lucy had also refused to say anything. I couldn't tell what his deal was with Rebecca Griswold, though, but by his mention of you and your friends, then Rebecca could be a part of the group too.
“I don't know what you are talking about,” Lucy had replied. “Don't you ever contact me. In fact, I am going to block this number.”
Warden Karo typed immediately, before she could block his number. “Don’t you dare block me off, Lucy, or I will have your pictures from that day when you were standing around the pool in the media by tonight, and the world will know who Lucy Callaghan really is. It would only be a shame that the others would get caught up in this too, even though they are proving to be more cooperative than you are.”
“You don't have any pictures. And besides, I did nothing.” She challenged.
“Then prepare to explain by tonight to the police and the whole country what happened eight years ago. And I have to say you look very pretty in the pictures. That red cheerleading uniform fits you perfectly. You were always a fairy in it. Do you remember it was stained with blood that night, and you lost it just after you took it off in the washroom? Well, lucky you, I seem to have found it in my basement today while I was arranging some stuff. It was carefully wrapped to protect your DNA on it and her BLOOD.” Warden Karo said.
Lucy's tone changed instantly. “What do you want?” She demanded.
“Meet me alone in…the hotel, room 503, tomorrow. And no funny business. I have all the evidence backed up to go live if anything happens to me. So come alone and alone.”
“Okay,” she replied.
The next message began the next day, and there Lucy asked. “I am here,” signaling that she had gone to the hotel room he asked her to go to.
And he’d replied, “Come in.”
Whatever happened in the room was a blur, but that same evening, Lucy Callaghan messaged first. “I guess since you have gotten what you wanted now, you can destroy the pictures and their copies and give me back the clothes.”
There had been a laughter emoji from Warden Karo, and then the message. “Bold of you to think today absolves you of your crimes. There will be many of today before I can even consider doing what you asked.”
“You bastard, you promised you were going to destroy it once I let your cheap, ugly form go down on me and take sexy videos of me.” Lucy had challenged.
“Those were just for more collateral, darling. Now I have twice as many pictures to ruin you if you don't cooperate with me, and by the way, you enjoyed it. You were screaming the whole room down.”
“Bastard.” Lucy replied. The rest of the messages that followed were obscenities, then onto the next meetup, and the next.
I stopped at another interesting turn of events, where Warden Karo had messaged. “Today is going to be a threesome, Lucy. You, me, and a special friend.”
“No, hell no. I am not doing it. One cheap ugly bastard is enough. I can't do two.” She had challenged.
“Then be ready to give so many explanations to the media, love, especially about your erotic videos. They will be the first to go. So many high schooler are going to be wanking to the video of the almighty Lucy Callaghan getting banged…”
Then Lucy had replied. “Okay, just this time.”
And Warden Karo replied. “Yes.”
But as I scrolled further down, I realized it didn't happen just that once. It happened many other times, where he’d pimped her to strange masked men, most of whom were older and with potbellies, according to her texts.
The messages had continued, and then my eyes narrowed on another interesting text, this time from Lucy reading. “So you were doing this to the four of us, fucking us and pimping us to strange men.”
And Warden Karo had replied. “You are all guilty, aren't you, so you all have to pay for your crimes.”
My mind pinned down the number in Lucy's message—four. That means there was still someone left, someone left to be killed, like he’s done the rest, after fucking and pimping them to strange men.
I sifted through the rest of the messages, which included more and more meetups and pimping, all of which further appalled me, and details of which grew more and more horrifying to read. Whatever their crime was, which from the look of things seemed like murder to me, Lucy Callaghan, Cecilia Rosewood, and Rebecca Griswold still didn't deserve what Warden Karo put them through, stripping them of their womanhood just because they made a mistake.
The messages ended with one from four days ago, where he asked her to book a room and stay for a few days in the hotel until he killed her and Rebecca.
I jumped up from my seat then, though not with enough flair to draw attention to me. I switched off the phone and threw it in my pocket, and I snatched my keys and phone from the table. I had one last look at my table, and I marched out of the room, hurrying fast for the door. Whoever this fourth person was. I damn well have to find her, and find her fast.