Cold Silence, page 25
“You were in North Carolina for most of the day.”
“I was back when he attacked you.”
She looked away. Was she only a job to him? She swallowed with difficulty, her throat dry and scratchy.
“Yael.” His arm tightened and she looked at him. Those wintergreen eyes of his stared at her intently. “Are you sure he didn’t take anything?”
She blinked rapidly, not expecting the question. She hid her reaction by reaching for her drink and offering it to him. He shook his head and she drained the glass and put it back down on the table. The whiskey still burned but less now she was expecting it—a lot like heartache.
Avoiding his gaze, she snuggled back against him. “Not that I could tell.”
His silence felt accusatory and she didn’t want to have to deal with the questions that would follow if she told him the truth.
What did it even matter? Everyone in that photograph aside from her was dead. Whoever had stolen the photograph couldn’t hurt anyone else in it. Not anymore. They could only hurt her by revealing the truth about her family and telling Shane would accomplish the exact same thing.
She couldn’t think about it right now.
It was after midnight. She was exhausted. Her gaze lifted until she reached the honed lines of his face. The stubble on his jaw. Warm skin that still held a touch of a summer tan.
“Shane?” she whispered.
He made a sound that was a cross between a grunt and a sigh.
“Can we go to bed now?”
His face softened. He took her hand in his right and held his handgun in the other. He led her into a darkened bedroom and pulled back the quilt.
Much to Shane’s amusement, Novak’s FBI negotiator girlfriend Charlotte Blood had dashed back here from the bar to change the sheets and throw a few basic supplies into the fridge. He hadn’t missed the strip of condoms she’d put on the bedside table but Shane had no plans to use them tonight. Yael needed to rest.
He placed his SIG on the side table. Then removed the Glock from the ankle holster. Novak’s carbine was within easy reach should someone break down the door. Gold team had set up cameras in the hallways and stairwells, plus had people watching the entrances.
Shane knew Yael was being evasive about what had been taken from her house but he wasn’t sure whether or not it was important. Not all lies mattered, but Shane would be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed that Yael still didn’t trust him enough to confide in him completely. But he’d also been the guy having a beer when her house was being attacked so maybe he couldn’t blame her all that much.
She stripped off her clothes and his eyes almost popped out of his skull when she got down to her underwear even though she was too busy struggling to remove her jeans without pulling off her bandages to notice.
“Sit.” He knelt in front of where she sat on the edge of the bed and took her calf in his hand as he eased the material over her socks, one at a time. She smelled so sweet he closed his eyes and swallowed the punch of desire.
“I wore these for you.” Her smile was sad as she ran her fingers through his hair.
Unable to stop himself, he pressed his face against the softness of her thigh.
Black lace seemed to have been designed with the sole intention of destroying a man’s control. He nuzzled her skin, the warm womanly scent of her wrapping around his senses and snapping him to attention like a flagpole.
He gripped her thighs and pulled her closer to his mouth. He couldn’t afford to be consumed by his hunger, didn’t want to lose focus. They both needed to rest and they were probably as safe as they could get until this guy was apprehended.
He nuzzled closer and ran his nose over her vulva. She shivered.
He eased his tongue under the material and into the hot core of her and she bowed up off the bed.
“Relax,” he whispered.
“That is not very relaxing,” she countered.
He pulled away and rolled her gently onto her side. “Stay there. I’ll be right back.”
He turned off most of the lights in the apartment except for one under-counter light in the kitchen. Then he headed back to the bedroom and climbed into bed, fully clothed. Last thing he needed was to be caught in his skivvies should this UNSUB get past their defenses or should his boss arrive unannounced.
Yael grumbled in protest.
He slipped behind her, spooning her. She snuggled against him, her excellent ass pressed against his doomed-to-disappointment cock. He rested his head on his left arm keeping the cast on the pillow above her head. His other hand slid over her perfect body and cupped her full breasts over the rough scrap of lace. She moaned and squirmed against him. A different sound this time. He rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, feeling the peak grow hard beneath his touch. “You like that?”
She stretched against him and tried to turn over.
“Uh uh. My rules else I sleep on the couch.”
She grumbled again but the way she rubbed against him suggested she wasn’t too angry with him. Sex was a great stress reliever and if anyone needed help sleeping it would be Yael after what she’d endured today.
His hand returned to her breast, easing the bra cup aside as he nuzzled the soft skin behind her ear and at the same time tormented her nipple.
Then he smoothed his palm over the indent of her waist and over the curve of her hip. He hooked her thigh and wedged his knee gently between her legs and opened her up to his mercy.
His fingers gripped the scrap of lace and he started gliding the rough material gently back and forth through her folds and over her clit until she was gasping. Then he eased two fingers inside her at the same moment he pressed the heel of his hand firmly against her clit. She shuddered and her muscles spasmed as she climaxed fast and hard around his fingers.
He withdrew his hand, pulled the covers more firmly over them both, knowing he was going to burn tonight for more than one reason.
Then he kissed her hair again and she sighed. Thirty seconds later, she was asleep.
25
The task force meeting room was buzzing despite it being the weekend. Yael looked out of the window and wished this was all over. She hated living in fear. She detested this killer besting them yet again. She hated the fact he’d attacked her in her new home and made her run away like a coward.
The room was chock full of agents working hard to catch, and gather enough evidence for the DOJ to convict, this sadistic killer.
Shane wasn’t here.
Yael hated the embarrassment that hit every time anyone asked about the HRT operator’s whereabouts or mentioned last night or even looked at her for any length of time. She guarded her privacy as much as she valued her integrity, but last night had thrown a spotlight on her actions.
It was like the others knew exactly what the two of them had done in the darkness. How she’d woken in the early hours to feel him still hard against her back. And how she’d destroyed him the way he’d destroyed her.
She’d woken the second time alone. Alone, but a whole lot stronger and more determined that she wouldn’t become this asshole’s next victim. He’d sent her an unmistakable warning she wasn’t likely to forget. She’d received the message, loud and clear. Taking risks wasn’t in her MO.
She’d texted with Laura on and off all morning. Her friend was sick in her hotel room with suspected food poisoning. Laura said she felt awful not coming to see her but that the chances of her barfing were high and she didn’t want to inflict that on anyone. Yael had promised to drop by later to see how she was doing.
Tim wasn’t in yet either, but it was early and the young man tended to be more of a night owl as were many computer geeks.
“Attention, please,” Sloan called from the front of the room.
Yael knew Shane would want to hear this. She didn’t have her cell but thankfully her laptop was in front of her so she sent a quick message to his work phone. The techs had toiled all night long and there was no evidence EG or whoever had attacked her last night had gone anywhere near her machine.
Techs were almost done checking her cell and then Alex wanted to run some diagnostics of his own. He’d offered her a temporary one but she had declined for now. She wasn’t planning on going anywhere.
Alex sat next to a good-looking dark-haired guy and a woman with long brown hair tied back in a high ponytail. The woman wore a sparkling rock on her ring finger. Alex obviously knew them well. Yael remembered seeing them last night. They’d been in the bar and then on her street questioning her neighbors.
The woman caught her eye and sent her a smile which Yael returned. She was striving to appear calm and professional. Everyone must think she was crazed the way she’d run into that bar last night. Like someone out of a horror movie. And then there were her neighbors.
Gah. Her stomach churned.
Maybe she should cut her losses and move already.
She set her teeth. She didn’t want to keep running.
“Eric Pierce is awake following surgery but he’s refused to talk to law enforcement and his attorney is preventing us from even questioning him yet,” Sloan began. “Charlotte PD found his car and it’s being transported to the lab here. The bomb squad checked it out and when they opened the trunk, they found several kilos of uncut cocaine.”
Yael pulled a face. Presumably the guy was a drug dealer or some sort of mule. He could still be Evi1Geni-us and whoever attacked her last night could be a pissed off ally designed to make the FBI doubt their conclusions. Or Eric Pierce was innocent and being set up.
She frowned. If he was a patsy then Evi1Geni-us had chosen well because the guy apparently had a lot of reasons not to cooperate with law enforcement.
“There was nothing, apparently, to indicate he was a dealer at his house and we are still searching for a secondary residence or property where—”
Shane walked in the door with his boss from HRT, whose bed she’d slept in last night. Her cheeks did what they always did when it came to Shane Livingstone. They heated.
“Sorry I’m late. We had an HRT team briefing to discuss what happened last night so I can report any updates.” Shane took the seat next to hers, as always—everyone on the task force had fallen into a smooth working routine. Novak pulled out the chair on his other side and sent her a sympathetic smile.
Something cracked inside Yael’s chest.
“As I was saying,” ASAC Sloan repeated for them. “Local police found a significant quantity of Class-A narcotics in the trunk of Eric Pierce’s car last night.”
“Did Evi1Geni-us set Pierce up or is Eric Pierce Evi1Geni-us and not limiting his criminality to online torture and murder?” Shane asked.
“Or did Pierce hire someone to attack Yael—or maybe a list of potential someones—in the event he was arrested?” Alex put in.
“What do the profilers think?” Sloan asked Lincoln Frazer pointedly.
Lincoln Frazer put his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair. Anyone else might look relaxed. He looked thoughtful. “Our current profile suggests an organized offender who fits well into society. Age range is still wide twenty to forty-five. White—same race as his victims. He’s a good talker and socially competent but he uses those skills to manipulate. He’s probably a first-born son whose father’s work was stable but whose childhood discipline was inconsistent. He has a quick temper and will be known to lash out, probably violently, when angered. People like to keep on his good side. He probably considers himself quite the ladies’ man. He’s methodical and cunning and amoral.”
Frazer sat forward. “From all accounts, Eric Pierce fits many of these criteria and judging from the drugs definitely leads a compartmentalized lifestyle.”
A female agent spoke up. “His co-workers and boss said they generally got on well with the guy, but he had a rep as a bit of a Lothario when it came to dating.”
“Fits.” Frazer continued, “EG chooses victims he can control. Even the men taken were not particularly strong or athletic. Presumably he incapacitates them either with drugs or a taser to subdue them. Taser marks have been found on several victims including Wayne Stockwell. Once he has them where he wants them, he makes them beg. He makes them submit with his use of pain and restraints. The fact we now know that, at least in the case of Anya Baker, the auctions are not live means that he’s the one choosing to torture and to sometimes sexually assault his victims prior to their death. The fact he manipulates others into paying him to commit his dark fantasies suggests a high level of narcissism. We see no empathy, no remorse, no conscience. We’re dealing with the worst kind of predator and unfortunately, he’s smart in both the ways of computing and the dark web and also regarding forensics.” Frazer dragged his thumb over his bottom lip. “He hasn’t given us anything concrete to work with despite multiple crime scenes. I can’t say for sure whether Eric Pierce is Evi1Geni-us. He fits some of the profile but not all. I’d like to send some of my colleagues down to interview him, if possible.”
Sloan nodded. “Of course.”
“I do believe the fact he doesn’t broadcast the audio at the time of the murders to be significant,” Frazer added. “I think he’s stealing their voices. Perhaps he doesn’t feel like his voice has been heard in real life.”
“Did the agents find any sort of ‘murder kit’ in Pierce’s vehicle?” Alex asked.
“No. Nothing,” Ashley Chen spoke up. She looked tired. Yael could sympathize.
“Did he generally drive his vehicle to local jobs?” Alex questioned. “We can search for it on traffic cams at the time of some of the murders.”
“I don’t know. I’ll find out.” Ashley wrote the question down. “Traffic cam searches haven’t revealed anything as yet which makes me think he frequently swaps plates.”
“How does he find his victims?” Sloan asked. “Have we figured that out yet?”
No one answered and Yael looked around. She raised her hand. “I’d like to dig deeper into any potential apps he might have used. Check the victims’ purchase history on bank statements. I’ll need increased access to financial and cell records.”
Sloan nodded. “If you feel up to it.”
Yael pulled a face. “My feet are healing fine.”
“She’s not talking about your feet, Yael,” Shane said wryly.
She shifted in her seat. “I want to help figure this out. Catch whoever attacked my house last night.”
“Okay,” Sloan conceded. “We need to revisit all the reasons we picked up Eric Pierce and see if we missed anything.”
“Ashley and I are going to review that information shortly,” Alex said with a look in Yael’s direction that she was sure was meant to be reassuring.
She felt a shiver of unease race against her shoulders. Did she mess up in some way? She didn’t believe so but EG liked to muddy the waters…
“Our ballistics expert suggested last night’s attacker used a Colt M4 carbine.”
Shane stiffened beside her. “Some HRT operators use them.”
Sloan nodded. “Interestingly enough we got a hit on the weapon in the system. This gun has been used in other crimes.”
“When?” Shane asked.
“A series of bank robberies in Springfield, New Jersey. Last April.”
Frazer frowned. “It’s a big shift in MO for it to be the same guy.”
“But not out of the realm of possibility?” Sloan pushed.
“No…” But Frazer drew the word out enough for it to sound highly dubious. “But EG killed Randy Gomer April 18.” He looked at Alex. “We missed that one as we were lazing around the French Riviera prior to your wedding.”
Alex nodded, his expression impassive. “Gomer was in Phoenix. When exactly were the bank jobs?”
Ashley Chen checked the notes. “Twenty-first, twenty-second, and twenty-seventh. He hit three banks on the last day. Got away with over a hundred grand total.”
“He’s clearing easily five times that amount per murder,” Alex noted.
“And it’s a lot less risk killing some poor bastard restrained in front of a camera compared to robbing a bank.” Shane slouched in his chair.
Yael dragged her eyes away from his rugged form.
“I can’t see it being the same guy but do we have any footage of the bank robber?” Alex tapped his pen on the notepad.
“I’ll get a photo.” Ashley nodded and made another entry on her list. It never got any shorter, Yael realized.
“We’ve been chasing this guy for far too long.” Alex echoed her thoughts and looked pissed.
Yael clenched her jaw. Why couldn’t they catch this person?
She remembered something that, in the craziness of the last twenty-four hours, had slipped to the back of her mind. “What about the ex-con who stayed at the motel the night Wayne Stockwell was murdered?” The search to find and question him had fallen under the radar with everything else that had happened.
Ashley leaned forward and typed something into her laptop. She looked up with a gleam in her eyes. “There was a hit on the prints in his room confirming his presence there. Ronald Borisky.” Ashley read his file. “The guy is a known fence and we have a warrant out for his arrest.”
“You think EG set up a meet with this guy at the motel to buy the gun he used to kill Lloyd Zenko?” Shane sat forward.
Alex’s gaze was sharp. “EG never used firearms that we know of before the Zenko murder. It’s pretty much the only thing he hasn’t used to kill victims in the past.”
“But he planned to kill a former Marine with explosives experience and I’m guessing EG didn’t want to risk arriving without a gun. You know what this means…” Shane said, excitement lacing his words.
Alex grinned. “Yeah, this Borisky character has presumably seen Evi1Geni-us’s face.”
“Why use a fence when you can go to any store or gun show and pick up a weapon?” Yael asked with a shudder.
Shane tapped his pen in a rapid beat on the table. “One, a lot of stores have surveillance cameras. Two, maybe our guy has a record.”
