Cold Silence, page 19
“I want you to help me catch this bastard. I want to put him in a place where he can never hurt anyone ever again.”
“He always seems one step ahead of us…” Her voice sounded small and she felt a surge of fury that this one man was able to affect her this way. As if he had a right to run roughshod over everyone else and use them like pawns. It wasn’t the first time she’d felt this way and the resentment burned a hole through her chest. She hadn’t hated like this in a long, long time. It felt good.
It was love that destroyed.
“We’re catching up with him.” Alex’s smile was determined. “He’s starting to make mistakes.”
Yael thought about Wayne Stockwell, Dave Monteith, and Anya Baker. All the others who’d come before them. All the innocents who’d been murdered to feed one man’s greed and corruption. “Let’s get there faster, Alex. Let’s catch this bastard before he hurts anyone else.”
17
A few hours later, Shane pulled up outside the task force building near the FBI’s National Academy. Lights were on inside. “I need to go over to the HRT compound. I’ll be back in an hour. Will you pass that message on to Sloan for me?”
Yael nodded. She’d been quiet on the drive back. Her cheeks were pale, mouth drawn, eyes tired.
He was thankful she hadn’t gotten a look at the dead night clerk. That wasn’t an image anyone needed in their brains. He shoved the memory aside and concentrated on his target. Evi1Geni-us. The fucker was going down. It was simply a matter of when and where.
Yael put her hand on the door lever and he caught her arm.
“You did good work again today.” She looked like she needed something to believe in and he wished he had more to give her.
“Two murders in two days, not to mention what he did in Houston. It’s a lot.” She tried to smile but it fell away before she left the cab.
He watched her enter the building. He wasn’t worried about her safety here, not really. But Evi1Geni-us was audacious and conceited. Shane wouldn’t put anything past the guy. EG could attempt to sneak onto the grounds by impersonating a Marine or an FBI agent. It was important never to drop your guard although, as all the FBI agents were armed, he doubted EG would have the balls to confront them head-on on their home turf. If he did, he wouldn’t last long.
After a team from the EGMURD joint task force arrived in Ruckersville he, Yael, and Alex Parker had hit the local Walmart. The store hadn’t had any security cameras that covered the farthest corners of the parking lot but Yael had spotted an intersection that might, and sure enough, traffic cams had revealed a small shadowy figure emerging from the wooded area to the west then walking across the far edge of the parking lot in the darkness. Crime scene techs had been sent to look for any obvious clues—like discarded cell phones—but it was a long shot.
The figure had been too indistinct to make out any features—but Evi1Geni-us didn’t know that. They might be able to leverage this angle and manipulate the guy into making another mistake.
EG had driven away in Wayne Stockwell’s stolen Buick and agents were now trying to trace his route. Even though he’d probably switched out the plates it was a lead that, considering the lengths EG had gone to in an effort to cover his tracks, Shane doubted he’d anticipate they’d get to this quickly.
They’d managed to keep news of the latest murder out of the press for now. Guests who’d asked had been told someone had passed in their room. EG had booked the motel for a week, so unless the guy could access FBI reports, he might not know Wayne Stockwell’s body had been found yet.
Shane drove to the HRT compound and headed inside wondering where everyone was. Funny, he hadn’t even thought about the guys today. He’d forgotten how good it felt to work a case. When he was eventually forced to leave HRT because he could no longer keep up with the younger guys, going back to being a street agent might not be so bad.
He strode inside the building and spotted Jordan Krychek deep in conversation with the top dog, Daniel Ackers. Shane paused. He wanted to ask them if there were any more details about the air crash that had killed Montana, but Ackers paused in the conversation then put his hand on Jordan’s arm, drawing him away. Jordan sent Shane a look over his shoulder and did not look happy.
Shane got the message. Whatever they were talking about, Ackers did not want them to be interrupted. Exactly what had Krychek and Montana been up to in Africa? Shane wanted to know but it was classified way above his pay grade. Even so, the HRT operators who’d worked with Kurt deserved to know exactly what happened to make that aircraft fall out of the sky. So far no one had given them any answers.
He jogged up the stairs to his equipment cage. He stored everything away, turned around and bumped into Will Griffin. A sliver of guilt moved through him. “Hey, man. How’s it going?”
Griffin gave him a stiff nod. “Good. Spent the day running drills in the shooting house. Any news on the injury?”
Shane raised his arm and glanced down at the sling that hung uselessly around his neck. “It’s fine. I’d be back to work tomorrow if it were up to me.” Except, he realized, that was a lie. He wanted to catch this motherfucker first.
Griffin scrubbed a hand through his short black hair. “Shane, I wanted to say something. I know how difficult it is to lose someone you’re close to in an unexpected and violent manner.” He swallowed loudly. “And then to pretend everything is okay.”
They both drew in long breaths.
“And I get you don’t want me here, trying to replace your buddy—”
“Hey.” Shane grabbed Griffin by both arms and gave him a little shake. “Don’t ever say that.”
Griffin looked startled.
“Don’t ever say that,” Shane gritted the words out between clenched teeth. “I want you here. Scotty wanted you here. We both voted for you to be offered a place on Echo team.” Emotion clogged Shane’s throat. He should have made more time for the guy but this case was consuming him. “You joined us at a bad time but I don’t want you to ever think that you aren’t one of us or that I don’t want you here. I do.” Shane sniffed and pretended he wasn’t being slammed by emotions he’d been busy trying to avoid. “I also wish things were different and that me and Scotty were giving you and Kincaid hell, you know?” He squeezed Will Griffin’s shoulders one last time and let him go.
Griffin was visibly moved by Shane’s words—which he should have spoken as soon as Griffin arrived. He’d been busy wallowing in grief. Scotty would have kicked his ass if he’d been here.
“I know you lost your fiancée. I know you and Hunt Kincaid both almost died trying to save her and his girlfriend”—not to mention hundreds of thousands of innocent lives from a weaponized anthrax threat—“that’s why we chose you. Not because of how many pull-ups you can do or how many miles you can run.” Body strength mattered but not as much as heart. “We wanted you because you’re an asset to this team. Because you’re a fucking good agent. And because you care about your teammates. We chose you for your grit and integrity and Scotty would have been damn proud to call you partner.”
Griffin looked down at the floor, clearly at a loss for words.
“Right now, it’s rough, and to be honest I am so fucking desperate to get this motherfucker I can almost taste it.” Shane rubbed his good hand over his face.
Griffin’s gaze narrowed and he held Shane’s stare. “You’re my partner now. You need any help, anything at all, you call me. Understand?”
Shane felt tears form in the back of his eyes. He nodded. There was a noise and Hunt Kincaid and Aaron Nash walked noisily around the corner having clearly gotten back from the gym.
“Everything okay?” Kincaid asked, squaring his shoulders as his gaze went warily from his friend to Shane.
And Shane knew he needed to remember he wasn’t the only one in pain around here.
Griffin gave a slow smile. “Yeah. Everything’s good.”
“Damn right, it’s good.” Or it would be. As soon as he found and stopped Evi1Geni-us from performing more of his heinous crimes. Shane checked his watch. “And now I apologize that I need to bail, but I have to report in to task force headquarters.”
“They found this wet wipe yet?” Nash asked stripping off his sweaty shirt.
Nash was one of the more serious members of the unit, a good foil to Cowboy’s unrelenting humor. He was clever as hell and liked to think outside the box when they ran into problems.
Shane shook his head. “We’re getting closer though. Don’t forget to watch each other’s backs,” he warned. Because EG liked to play games.
“Who’s watching yours? The brunette with the impressive rack—”
Shane had Nash in a one-handed grip against the metal of the cage. “A little respect for the lady, please.”
Nash grinned and Shane knew he’d fallen for the oldest trick in the book. Insult the girl to find out how a guy really felt about her.
Shane dragged the guy closer and kissed his teammate on the cheek. “And mind your own fucking business.” Then he shoved Nash away and the three of them were laughing and joking as Shane slipped out of the room. Time to head back to the task force and the woman who was beginning to sneak beneath his guard and make him forget his primary focus.
He told himself not to let it happen. Knew he was lying to himself.
What would Scotty think of Yael?
Shane felt a smile stretch his lips as he strode along the corridor. Scotty would get a kick out of her. Scotty would tell him to go for it.
But Scotty was dead and Shane needed to find his killer. Maybe then he’d pursue this thing with Yael a little. See if they had anything in common besides physical attraction.
Maybe.
It was almost ten p.m. by the time Yael was finally able to leave task force headquarters. It was dark and a low fog clung close to the ground, making everything a million times spookier than usual—or maybe that was the threatening shadow that seemed to hover over everything lately. The sense of danger tainting the world in a way that made her resent the serial killer even more.
She glanced at Shane who looked calm and competent in the driver’s seat and a feeling of dèjá vu stole over her. He’d insisted on staying at her place for another night while EG was still at large. They’d dropped by Shane’s apartment to pick up fresh clothes and check his mail, then to a pizza joint to grab dinner before heading to her townhouse.
On top of all the other happenings of today, Alex had traced the sale of the sound recording of Anya Baker’s murder online. Sold as a non-fungible token for forty thousand US dollars’ worth of crypto. The law was a little murky around NFTs and the dark web in general but paying for a recording of a murder to use as a source of entertainment had to be as illegal as well as it was immoral. It was also possible Evi1Geni-us had arranged to buy the item himself via proxy to jack up the overall value of the merchandise which wasn’t uncommon in this emerging market. The buyer was under surveillance from local police in England as were his communications. He’d be detained for questioning as soon as the FBI gave the word.
The FBI’s sound technicians were working to obtain a copy to examine in minute detail. Yael had a few possible ideas for getting hold of a copy.
They pulled up at her house and she opened the garage door. Shane drove inside. She needed to add some additional information to her other searches. Then it was simply a question of waiting. Exhausted, she dragged herself out of Shane’s truck as he held her door. She unlocked the house, turned off the alarm, and tossed her keys on the kitchen island.
“Go shower,” said Shane as he locked everything behind them and re-set the alarm.
“Want one?” The words left her mouth like an invitation and her heart stopped in sudden terror.
Shane’s eyes darkened but he took a step away, into the kitchen. “I’ll grab one later if that’s okay.”
Despite their shared kisses, he seemed determined to keep everything professional between them which she appreciated. There were obvious reasons for not getting involved. If things became awkward between them and they still had to work together it would suck. And maybe the attraction was all one sided. She glanced at him.
The guy was good-looking and built. Women probably threw themselves at him on a regular basis.
Did he spend a lot of time apologizing for kissing people or was that just her? Under normal circumstances she doubted Shane Livingstone would look at her twice but he’d assigned himself as some sort of personal bodyguard for this case and they were stuck together.
She headed upstairs feeling more despondent than ever and not sure why. She made sure there were towels in the main bathroom and that the spare bed was made up. The guy didn’t need to sleep on the couch and get a crick in his neck in order to babysit her.
She stood at her window and noticed Kevin Karvo standing in his front room looking across at her. He raised his hand. She nodded and closed the blind and the drapes.
Laura was supposed to stay over tomorrow but Yael didn’t really want her friend here. Was her reluctance tied to the fact she didn’t want to lose this unexpected intimacy with Shane? There was no guarantee Shane would even be here tomorrow night. She had no idea what was going to happen from one day to the next, but she did crave a little mental space. She hadn’t been alone in way too long.
She stopped on the landing and texted her friend before she could think better of it. “I need to cancel you staying here tomorrow night. Sorry.”
Yael grimaced as she watched the three dots appear and disappear several times. Laura was outgoing and gregarious. Yael wasn’t. She was a terrible friend.
Finally, “How come?” Then… “Do you have a date?!!”
Laura was always urging Yael to go on dates. As if going out for a meal or the movies followed by some vigorous sex would mean Yael finally, magically, had a life worth living. Yael hated herself but she lied. It was the only excuse Laura wouldn’t try to bulldozer. “Yes.”
Even though the date would probably be eating take-out while working the case.
“Who with?” asked Laura.
“No one you know.” The woman was exhausting.
Laura sent through a thumbs up and more vegetables which Yael understood but really didn’t want to think about.
“Talk soon.” She ended the chat because she needed to shower and revive her brain and she needed food. Even though it was late, she and Shane planned to go over the records of the ex-con who’d stayed at the motel Tuesday night—the same night as EG had murdered poor Wayne Stockwell. It might be a coincidence, but they couldn’t ignore the possible connection no matter how tired they were.
She scrubbed herself clean but didn’t wash her hair. After she dried off, she put on her pajamas along with a baggy white hoodie. She brushed her out-of-control hair and tied it back in a scrunchy. She didn’t apply any makeup or perfume. She didn’t want to send Shane any of the wrong signals. They were work colleagues. He was protecting her from a murderous psychopath, not planning the fine art of seduction. She didn’t want any more apologies.
She slipped quietly down the stairs and found him watching the late evening news.
“Anything?” She knew he was looking to see if anyone had linked the dead nightwatchman to Evi1Geni-us yet. The longer they could hold off, the less worried EG would be that they were onto him, and the more likely he would be to relax and stop looking over his shoulder, which might give them time to catch up.
“Nothing.”
The news item changed and she immediately recognized footage from a school shooting.
“Turn it off.” The words came out harsher than she’d intended.
Shane flicked the off button and didn’t seem to notice her tone. But maybe she was kidding herself because he didn’t miss much.
She grabbed two beers from the fridge and offered him one. Their fingers connected and she pretended she didn’t feel the flare of electricity arc between them.
He turned to look at a pencil drawing she’d hung on the kitchen wall, indicated it with his beer bottle. “You drew this?”
It was of a tiny, solitary wren. Every feather was lovingly detailed. She nodded. She’d signed it with a faint single “Y” that was barely visible in the bottom right-hand corner.
“It’s fantastic. You ever think about selling anything?”
She shrugged, uncomfortable now with the subject. “It’s just a hobby.”
She sat on a bar stool that Lincoln Frazer had left behind and grabbed a slice of pizza and cupped her hand under it to stop it dripping onto her clothes.
“Ohmygod,” she chewed. “This is delicious.”
Shane nodded and devoured his own slice. They’d both been working flat-out since before dawn but he didn’t look tired.
She noticed someone had been working on an unfinished crossword she and Laura had started last weekend. “You finished the puzzle?” She pulled the newspaper towards her. “‘Pictures of Yosemite’ is ‘cels’? What the hell?”
“Yosemite Sam. The cartoon character.”
“I can’t believe you knew that.”
He shrugged. “We spend a lot of time hanging around or in transit. Nash always has a crossword going and sometimes we turn it into a contest.”
“Shocking,” she said dryly.
He stood there grinning in his green utility pants and tight black t-shirt and she swore her mouth started to water for something other than food.
Damn.
She made herself concentrate on the pizza and why he was here. Not to get lucky. To protect her. He was stuck here. She needed to get a grip.
“What are you thinking about?”
She jumped. “Nothing.”
He grabbed a second slice. “You always this quiet?”
A slight smile tugged her lips. “I better be. I live alone, remember.”
He took a large gulp of beer and Yael watched the way the strong muscles in his throat worked. He put the bottle behind him on the counter. “Have you always lived alone or…”
