The Bounty Hunters: The Marino Bros.: Box Set (126 page)

“Don’t apologize. It is not necessary. I know when a man wants to put me in my place.” She gave him his out. She knew he didn’t want to say those words to her. Knew it was a ruse to keep her safe and his family. But she was hurting, and she wanted to let him know it. “I really believed you were different.” She rolled her eyes and blew a wisp of hair out of her face. A sad sigh escaped her before she continued. “I still do. When you choose to explain that ridiculous display, I’ll be more than glad to hear it. But, I warn you. I am nobody’s toy any longer, Andreas.” Her voice cracked.

His heart cracked.

“I did not know what love was until I met you, Andreas. Don’t make me wait too long. Don’t make me doubt you.”

He was broken, but he did not have the words. He saw her intake of breath before she spoke again. She was taking in air, long slow gulps of it, but tried to appear nonchalant. It was killing him to let her go. “Maybe I don’t know what love is though. But, thank you for teaching me what it could be, and keeping me physically safe. I wish you well.” With that she turned and walked away. The doors slid open in front of her and she walked in, Mitch and John following. He stayed until the doors slid closed and she was swallowed up by the glass and stone of the Sheraton-Marriott hotel.

Wherefore Art Thou?

T
wo weeks flew
by and a miserable Andreas buried himself in work. Romeo had evaporated into thin air. Any leads they had or got quickly went cold. The incident with Angela escaping must have spooked him, he thought. Salvatore never went back to his apartment or to work, and now there was a nation-wide manhunt for the man formerly known as the Rosedale Romeo. Every time he turned on the news there was some sound bite about the case. But there hadn’t been any new leads in over a week. The case and investigation was stalled.

With his cover blown, the press splashing all his pictures and all Salvatore Mazzelli’s aliases on the sound waves, he was bound to show up. Come up on someone’s radar. But it hadn’t happened. Each day that Andreas woke up in his bed alone reminded him further of his failure. And he missed Cat.

Three days ago the police had come to him with an idea. They wanted him and Cat and others involved to be interviewed. They thought it could help shake things up, and perhaps bring in new leads. Everything was hastily arranged.

The story, set to appear tonight on Forty Eight Hours, would ask for anyone with information on this man, or any of the aliases he may have used in the past to call the authorities. The police needed to fill in the pieces so they could figure out what his next move might be. The police felt it might lure him, prevent him from going deeper under cover if they were prominently featured, and the psychologists agreed. It would keep him in the area.

Both he and Cat had been interviewed as well. They had both been briefed on what to say, and had communicated through Lucas. Andreas knew if he talked to her himself it would break him. He needed to stay focused for her and his family. He let Lucas pass along a message of what he planned to say so it would not be a shock to her. Well, most of it anyway, asking her to forgive him for whatever he said as it was only meant to keep her safe, and his family.

She had not replied.

The report aired tonight. It had been filmed quickly with sound bites going out on all channels about the upcoming show entitled, “The Hunt for Romeo. Wherefore art thou?” Clever, he thought wryly. Very clever. The police hoped he was watching and hoped he would make another rash mistake.

All of his brothers had been interviewed. Their women kept out of it as no one wanted them to become targets. No one talked about it though, not to him anyway except to say they hoped this would lure him out. In fact, his family had been pretty much giving him the silent treatment after he told them he sent Cat away. Ronnie even called him an ass after he tried to explain his motives.

Everyone was on pins and needles all day waiting for the show to air. He planned to watch the show alone. Kick Lucas out of the study to do it. But he found Lucas already standing outside the study when he went downstairs shortly before nine PM.

Andreas raised one eyebrow at him questioningly.

“Everyone is inside, sir. I’ll give your family some privacy.” Shaking his head, he braced himself to face the crowd still upset with him for Cat and his increasingly horrible mood. Like a man about to face his executioner, he entered the study knowing they weren’t going to be any happier after watching tonight’s show.

He opened the door and the television was already on. The lead in was airing. Nikko came with a drink and offered it to him. He accepted it with a curt shake of the head, and then went to sit behind his desk.

Everyone else remained where they were seated. Ronnie was glowering with her arms crossed in front of her. Bella gave him a tentative smile. Gio did too. Everyone else focused on the program and the opening monologue.

The room was deadly silent as the reporter recited his opener looking directly into the camera, the huge clock ticking menacingly behind him. He started by giving a rundown on the crimes of one madman named Spiro Makas aka Salvatore Mazzelli and Darryl James. As the reporter spoke the victims’ names, a photo of the person was shown in an inset in the top left corner of the screen. When his parent’s picture flashed his gut twisted. He took a sip of his drink. It was as quiet as a funeral. Lisa placed her hand in Gio’s lap and he took it. Nikko put his arm around Ronnie who uncrossed her arms. Bella put her head on Blaze’s chest. It made him miss Cat even more.

He did not flinch or move.

The show broke for commercial then, but the reporter promised to return and try to delve into the mind of the mad man. What led him on this killing spree?

Nikko got up to pour himself a drink. “I know why. He is sick bastard. Period.”

No one disagreed with him. Blaze glanced over his shoulder to check on Andreas.

When the reporter returned, pictures of Spiro were shown. The reporter announced that they were gathered from the FBI investigation of Spiro’s father, a criminal of the worst kind. The FBI investigation into the sex slave industry revealed a man who kidnapped and purchased young women and boys, mostly foreign born, and used them in the United States to satisfy the needs of the depraved. Only 21 when his father was captured, Spiro disappeared, although testimony of the young girls revealed his father treated him brutally, embarrassed by his son’s disfigurement. Spiro had brought them treats, given them extra food, and was always quiet. When he was in one of the homes where the girls were kept, he had chores assigned to him by either his father or one of his father’s men. The FBI searched for him in the hopes of having him testify against his father. But he never resurfaced.

“They are making him sound like one of the fucking victims,” Gio cursed, getting up and pacing briefly before standing behind his wife who still remained on the sofa.

She reached for the hand he placed on her shoulder. “Honey, he was, then, but it is still no excuse for what he did.” His response was a grunt, but he made no comment.

The reporter continued. “His obsession with one of the slaves, in his father’s employ when the bust went down, triggered this madman’s killing spree. Catarina Stone, nineteen, dubbed the Tampa Madame in recent news, was that girl. His obsession with her beauty, and her kindness to him, started it all psychologists believe.” An FBI profiler appeared on the screen and he explained how Spiro, neglected, became obsessed with the one woman who looked on him not with disgust but pity. He took that for love, and became obsessed with her. When she was taken into protective custody, she was lost to him, and he snapped.

The reporter asked his next question. “Dr. Figueroa, but what made him kill?”

The camera panned over to the doctor. “He tried to find that acceptance elsewhere. From the crime scene photos, forensic evidence, the autopsy reports, we know he always damaged the eyes of his victims. Perhaps the first woman he came into contact with sneered at him, couldn’t look at him, and that triggered his first kill. He was looking for love, acceptance. This is a primal need everyone has. If this is not given it causes people to literally go berserk, to snap, as you say. And I think it is worth mentioning that the very first victim looked the most like Miss Stone.”

“This man has killed fourteen people that we know of. Eight victims, a decade ago. Six more recently. Why the gap? Why the Marinos?”

“Hmm, the crimes started in New York. This was a few years after Catarina had gone missing to him. He probably tried to live a normal life, but then the first victim probably brought it all back. She looked very much like his Catarina, his Beauty, as he called her. When he began to kill it was random, the murders had larger time gaps between them than what we have seen recently. He had another life, a normal one, and was probably trying to keep the balance between the two. But once he started, he couldn’t stop. It made him feel powerful. In control, and he never had that before. When Detective Marino began to tighten the noose, started getting close, he felt like he was losing that control. And so, the death of Detective Marino’s parents was about revenge. Spiro had found some kind of stability in his marriage, a calm in between the storms of his urges. When the police found out his identity, his wife and child went into protective custody. It was simple revenge against the cop who took them away in his mind.”

Andreas sighed. He knew this already. He had earned Sal’s wrath and it had cost his parents’ their lives. It was the price he had paid for working vice and sex crimes. It was also the reason he got out. He didn’t want to lose anyone else.

“So, what brought about the recent crime spree? Why did he resurface?” asked the reporter.

Dr. Figueroa smiled and then looking into the camera explained what occurred from a psychological perspective. “Yes, the man then went into hiding, tried to live a normal life again, as far as we know, but,” the doctor shrugged his shoulders, “he may have killed others. We don’t know that yet. Perhaps he used a slightly different MO and probably moved around a lot to avoid detection. Police are looking into that now. However, the recent crimes stemmed out of the fact that his obsession, Catarina Stone, had resurfaced. Fate. Bad luck. Geographical proximity. A freak run in. Unluckily so, he had found her after all those years. It brought his feelings to the forefront again. From what police have revealed so far, his crimes in the Tampa Bay area resumed when he was no longer able to be near Catarina. He was employed in the building she lived in and was watching her for months from a neighbor’s vacant apartment before he killed again. When the couple he killed recently returned from their home up North, he wasn’t able to see her. He had drilled a small hole in their bedroom closet that looked into her room, to watch her. The first murder happened three weeks after their return to Florida. His easy access to her had been cut off, and his primal evil urges returned.”

The reporter thanked the psychiatric-criminologist for his insight, and then facing the cameras revealed that next, Catarina Stone, the woman behind the obsession, was going to speak out about the crimes, and give her first ever televised interview.

Andreas’ palms were sweating and his heart accelerated. He hadn’t seen Cat in two weeks, and he ached to hold her, soothe her. The daily reports he got on her safety were not enough. He had only communicated with her once, and that was through Lucas, when the show’s producers called to tell him when they would be filming his segment at his home. The police hoped new information would lead to an arrest, and because they had reached another dead end, he agreed. Cat’s communication had been that she would comply, but there was nothing else she wanted passed along to him.

Another commercial was over, and the reporter now stood in a darkened room, a bookshelf behind him. “What was in the mind of this madman as he killed fourteen people? I think our next guest can provide us with the most insight into that question.”

The camera panned to Cat. The interview was conducted at her hotel in one of the conference rooms. As per orders from the police, they had used a screen in the background depicting a window and curtains. Nothing was to be shown that would reveal her location.

Cat sat comfortably in a wing back chair facing the reporter. She looked elegant, yet business like. The questions they would ask had been given to her ahead of time and discussed with the investigative team. Andreas had received his questions in a similar manner and had been briefed by the Tampa Bay PD before his interview as well.

“Miss Stone,” the reporter began in a sympathetic tone. “I first want to ask you about your relationship with Spiro Makas.” At Catarina’s nod, he continued. “Now that you know what this man has done, have you been able to reconcile his actions with what you know of him?”

Cat shook her head sadly. “The Spiro I knew back then, he was like us, a victim of his father. I never would have suspected him capable of these acts, and even until recently with the kidnapping and identification of him by one of the escaped victims, I still had my doubts. He was gentle, quiet, and I saw pain in his eyes. I assume back then he saw me as another girl to pity.”

“I hate to ask this, but from what research states, and the profilers and psychologists, did you encourage his infatuation with you in anyway?”

“I just don’t know. Really. It was a long time ago, but what I remember about him was kindness. We were treated horribly, denied food and other things if we did not please our bosses. He would bring us things. Paper to write on, food, candy. The girls appreciated him. He never asked for anything in return. We had nothing to give him. I think that is why we appreciated what he did so much. When you have nothing, and someone, anyone shows you just the slightest kindness, it makes it more special.”

“Do you regret,” he asked, “your kindness to this man now that you know what he has done in the name of love for you?”

“Oh, you do ask some hard questions. But hindsight is better than foresight. I can’t say that I do. He was kind to me, to all of us, but did I encourage more? No, I did not. I wish he would not have killed those people. And, I hope he stops. I would do anything for him to stop. Those people are innocent victims too. But, no, I do not regret my kindness to a young man who helped me in a difficult time.”