скачать книгу бесплатно
Noelle’s steps quickened as she approached that study door. Thomas was close. She could hear him following her. “Senator Duncan,” Noelle called, raising her voice, “I hope you—” She fully pushed open the door, and her words broke off.
Noelle didn’t see the senator in the office. He wasn’t at his desk.
“I told you,” Paula said, voice tight. “He’s asleep. He’s upstairs! Now, leave.”
But...Noelle could smell something in that room. A familiar, gut-tightening scent. Instead of leaving, she advanced. Every muscle in her body tightened.
She glanced over her shoulder and saw Thomas’s eyes were narrowed and currently sweeping over the room.
She looked behind the desk. Looked behind the leather couch...
And saw the body.
“That’s not sleeping,” Thomas said flatly as he peered down at the senator. “That’s dead.”
Paula ran toward the sofa. When she saw Duncan, Paula screamed.
* * *
“OUR CHIEF SUSPECT is dead.”
Noelle glanced over when Thomas made this grim announcement. They were at the sheriff’s station in Camden, in fresh clothes, and the two of them were currently heading the investigation into the senator’s death. When they’d found the body, Sheriff Hodges had pretty much gone into shock.
“Things like this just don’t happen in Camden...” Those had been the sheriff’s hushed words once Paula Quill finally stopped screaming. It had taken at least fifteen minutes to calm down that woman.
To Noelle, it appeared as if the quiet town of Camden was having one hell of a night.
“Yeah, Mercer, I’m sure the guy in the truck wanted us dead. It was no mere hit-and-run. We were targeted.” Thomas turned toward Noelle as he kept the phone to his ear. “My money was on the senator being behind that attack, but with him dead...” Thomas exhaled. “I’m not sure what’s going on now.”
Neither was Noelle.
“Right,” Thomas said into the phone as his shoulders straightened. “We’ll keep the FBI cover, and we’ll report back on everything we find.” He ended the call and tossed his phone onto the nearby desk.
They’d taken over one of the empty offices at the sheriff’s station so they could have some privacy—and a base for their operations.
“Mercer wants us to stay here until we find the killer.” Thomas ran a hand through his hair. “Our FBI cover positions us to lead the case, so he thinks we can control the investigation.”
They could. If Sheriff Hodges called to verify their credentials, Noelle knew Mercer would just pull strings to make sure that verification went through without a hitch.
“Tell me what’s happening,” Thomas said as he crossed his arms over his chest and studied her. “You’re the one who knows killers so well.”
Yes, she did. Noelle cleared her throat. “The senator knew his killer. There was no sign of a struggle, and since none of the alarms were triggered in the house, I’m thinking Duncan even let the guy inside.” A bad mistake. He’d trusted the wrong person. “There were no hesitation wounds on the senator’s body. The knife sliced straight across his carotid artery. The senator...he would’ve been dead in moments.” With his throat cut, the man hadn’t been able to cry out for help. He’d just been able to die.
Noelle forced herself to take a long, deep breath. “I think we’re looking for a man who has killed before.” If it had been the killer’s first time, the attack would’ve been more disorganized. Senator Duncan might have even been able to fight back. “And knife attacks...they’re more personal. Using a knife is a type of intimate kill for many perpetrators.”
His golden eyes gleamed. “So you think the man we’re looking for was a friend of Duncan’s.”
“Friend, relative, maybe even an employee. He was someone who had access to the senator. Someone who could come to his house late at night and expect a meeting.” She wasn’t going to ignore the obvious. “I can think of one main reason for a meeting that late.”
Thomas nodded. “A meeting that probably occurred right after our accident on the bridge.” His hands dropped back to his sides.
Yes, they had both heard the M.E. reveal the estimated time of death.
“We already suspected that the senator didn’t like to get up close with his dirty work. He sent someone in D.C. to attack Mercer, so maybe he sent someone to take care of us, too.” She licked her lips. “Only that someone turned on the senator.” Why? It was her job to find out why. Her job to understand the killers. Their motivations. Their darkness.
“You think we’re looking at a professional.”
“Of a sort, yes.”
“So...” Thomas cocked his head to the right as he studied her. “What will this professional do when he realizes that he didn’t succeed in taking us out? If, of course, he was the one who came after us.”
Well, that was easy enough to answer. “There are two choices. He’ll just cut his losses and get out of town or he’ll try to finish the job.”
Thomas’s lips curved into a chilling smile. “I’d like to see him try.”
* * *
HIS HANDS WERE SHAKING.
The killer glanced down at them. They were trembling again. And even though he’d thrown away his bloodstained gloves, he could swear he saw red on his fingertips.
Duncan’s gone.
It felt so good to be free of the jerk. Duncan had always been controlling him...warning him.
No more.
The sun had risen. The snow had finally stopped falling. It was his day. No more taking orders. No more hiding.
He’d do what he wanted.
The FBI agents were gone. She was gone.
And the senator’s body would be found at any time.
He was free.
The sound of laughter drifted on the wind. The light, musical sound caught his attention. He glanced over at the diner on the right. It had just opened for breakfast. He watched as a young girl—looked as though she was barely sixteen—tried to push back the drift in front of the entrance. She was laughing because the snow kept falling back on her. Her red hair glinted in the light.
He stared at her, remembering the past.
She was so busy at her job she didn’t even see him. The road was empty. The diner always opened first thing. It would be a while before any locals wandered into the place.
He started walking toward her. She didn’t even look up as he approached. He could see her name tag.
Jenny.
Jenny must be new at the diner. He’d never seen her there before.
Then he was just a few feet from Jenny.
Her hair was a deep, dark red. She’d braided it and the braid hung over her shoulder. He was so close to her. Close enough to touch.
Jenny looked up then, and she gasped when she saw him. A hand rose to her chest, and the shovel slipped from her fingers.
He smiled at her. “Morning, ma’am.”
She blinked, and some of the alarm faded from her gaze. That was good. That was real good. He didn’t want her scared. Not yet.
He drew even closer to her. Close enough to catch her scent. She smelled sweet. He liked that. His gaze slid toward the diner. The shades were still pulled. He couldn’t see in. That meant no one could see out.
“We’ll be open in about ten more minutes,” Jenny told him. “The cook’s getting things going now.”
The cook. That would be the big, ex-lumberjack named Henry. But if Henry was getting things going in the kitchen...
Then he can’t see us out here.
And Jenny was so perfect. She reminded him of what he’d lost.
His hand lifted and brushed over her cheek.
Her eyes widened as she sucked in a sharp breath. “Mister—”
“It will hurt, Jenny,” he warned her.
Too late, Jenny opened her mouth to scream.
She never had the chance to make a sound.
* * *
NOELLE WAS ABOUT to fall flat on her face. It took all of the energy she had to climb the steps leading up to their cabin.
This place wasn’t like the one-room shack they’d slept in before. This cabin was more like a luxury resort and as far from the place in her nightmares as possible.
The EOD was footing the bill for these digs, so Noelle was more than happy to escape to the fine lodgings.
She’d been up for over thirty-six hours, minus that one rough hour of sleep she’d gotten while she’d been in Thomas’s arms.
Her gaze slanted toward him. I want you, and unless I’m mistaken, you want me, too. His words kept echoing through her mind.
The problem was Noelle wasn’t used to taking what she wanted. She was used to closing herself off from others. Used to waking from dark dreams she could never fully remember—alone.
“We need to head back to the sheriff’s station at eighteen hundred hours,” Thomas said as he secured the front door behind them. He glanced around the cabin. A spiral staircase led upstairs. “That gives us a few hours to sleep.”
And sleep was certainly her priority because of the whole almost-falling-on-her-face bit, but...
She kept thinking about what it had been like to be held in his arms. To kiss him. To touch him.
His head cocked as his eye raked over her. “Something wrong?”
“I’m just...trying to figure out who could’ve killed the senator.” Well, she should be doing that, anyway.
He grunted as he headed toward her. “Mercer is arranging for new clothes to be delivered to us.”
Since their bags were at the bottom of an icy lake, she appreciated the arrangement.
“Get some sleep, get some food, and then you’ll be able to work up a profile.”
He sure sounded confident. But it wasn’t as if she just waved a wand and magically figured out a killer. “I’ll need to head back to Lawrence’s place. I want to search every inch of that house.”
He flashed her a hard smile. “Already on the to-do list. Mercer wants us to find evidence proving Lawrence is our guy—and if the senator was working with anyone else in the attack against the EOD, we need to find out just who that person is.”
Right. Because the case wasn’t closed, not even with the death of their chief suspect.
“There are supposed to be two bedrooms upstairs,” Thomas added as he glanced up at the winding staircase. “Pick which one you want, and I’ll take the other.”
I’ll take the one with you.
Wait, no. She had not nearly said that. She must be more exhausted than she’d realized. Noelle turned on her heel and hurried toward the stairs.
“Do you need to talk?”
Her hand curled around the bannister. His voice had been so rough. “About what?”
“About the nightmares you have.”
How could she talk about what she didn’t remember?
“You begged someone not to hurt you. Pleaded for them to let you go.” The hardwood floor creaked beneath his footsteps. “And you promised not to tell...”
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “I don’t remember any of that.” Her heart raced in her chest.
“You do when you let down your guard. When you sleep, that veil in your mind falls away.”
She shook her head. “I... No, you’re wrong.”
He was just a few feet away. “Have you ever thought that maybe you just don’t want to remember?”
The dead man on the floor...the blood on her hands...
“I want to remember.” Those forty-eight hours had shattered her life. Her mother had wanted to push them away while Noelle had desperately wanted to grab that time back.
His gaze held hers. “There are plenty of moments from my life that I wish I could forget.”
She thought of the scars on his body. His captivity. “What if you had the scars, but no memory of how you’d gotten them?” She didn’t have scars on her body. Not on the outside, anyway. But those two nights had left deep marks inside of her. “Every time you looked at them, wouldn’t you wonder?”
He took another gliding step toward her. She tilted back her head to keep meeting his gaze.
