Ashes, Ashes, They All Fall Dead (11 page)

“Apology accepted.” She cleared her throat and checked her braid.

One of these days he’d free all that luscious red hair, and he wouldn’t apologize afterward.

“We, ah, need to contact Casey,” she said. “Are we through here?” Her face flushed an adorable light pink. “I mean, is there anything you want to check out at the scene, or in Priceville, before we head back to Charleston?”

“No.” He resisted the urge to tease her about what he wanted to “check out.” That would be a mistake. She needed time to come to terms with what had just happened.

Not too much time, though, he hoped, because once his consulting contract was over, he wouldn’t have an excuse to be around her anymore.

Then again, if Casey was going to come into the investigation now, he might decide he didn’t need Matt anymore and cancel the rest of the contract. That was a sobering thought. How could he stay close to Tessa and make her realize how good they could be together if he didn’t have an excuse to be near her? His mood took a nosedive as he walked her back to the car.

T
ESSA GLANCED AT
Matt, sitting beside her at the desk they’d been relegated to in the Charleston PD squad room. He was typing on his laptop, acting as if nothing amazing was going on around them, while she was nearly bursting with excitement. She was trying to stay patient as she waited for her boss, but the waiting was killing her.

When she’d spoken to Casey on the phone, she’d told him about Matt’s special search program that had led them to the Sharon Johnson crime scene, and from there to the John Crawford crime scene. She’d also relayed the information Detective Jimenez had confirmed for her, that broken glass at the Johnson house could have been from a Molotov cocktail. As to whether Sharon’s driver’s license had been taken, that couldn’t be confirmed since her purse hadn’t been found. But Casey had agreed with Tessa and Matt’s conclusions—the odds of the Johnson and Crawford murders being related to the letters were too high to ignore, especially after Matt’s program had found so many other potential cases related to other letters. Casey was all in. He’d already flown into Charleston, and a team of agents from the Savannah office was due to arrive any moment.

John Crawford’s body had been found less than six hours ago, and already a special task force was being established. Higher-ups were flying in from Quantico and field offices from every state where a letter had originated. The “Ashes Killer,” as the Quantico muckety-mucks were already calling him, would soon be behind bars. He didn’t stand a chance against the brain trust the FBI was assembling.

Casey was deep in conversation right now with the Charleston police chief at the front of the squad room, along with the unit chief of BAU-2, the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit that focused on crimes like serial murder. There were all kinds of important people going in and out, drawing on white boards, comparing notes. And yet Matt was ignoring everyone in the room, completely focused on his computer screen.

Tessa leaned toward him. ”Do you know who that is?” She pointed to the man who’d just walked up to Casey.

Matt glanced up, frowned. “Can’t say that I do.”

“He’s the head of the BAU at FBI headquarters. I can’t believe he’s here. This is huge, huge.”

His mouth quirked up in a half smile. “You’re really excited about all this.”

“I shouldn’t be. It feels so wrong, when people have died and more lives are at risk. But if I find this guy, if I stop him, it’s a guaranteed promotion. I could have my pick of jobs. I might even get my own field office. This is the kind of case that can make, or break, a career.”

His smiled faded and he punched some more keys on his laptop. “And if you got a promotion, you’d be willing to leave Savannah?”

“Of course.”

“Do you have family in Savannah?”

“Sure, my mom and dad. Why?”

“You wouldn’t mind leaving them behind?”

“I’d miss them, but I’d come back to visit.”

He gave her an odd look and focused on his computer again. Did he think she was wrong to be willing to move away? For heaven’s sake, she’d left home when she was eighteen. Her parents didn’t expect her to live her entire life in the same city as them. They would understand that her career came first.

She shook her head. None of that mattered. It was all hypothetical. What mattered right now was pouring all her experience and energy into figuring out who the killer was. The rest would work itself out.

“Why does this matter so much to you?” Matt asked.

“Sorry?”

“Finding killers, serial killers in particular. You’re obviously familiar with all the main players at Quantico. And there’s more to your excitement, to your drive, than hoping for a promotion. So what is it?”

Her enthusiasm faded beneath his question. How could she tell him about the dreams, the nightmares, that had plagued her off and on for most of her life? She’d never told anyone about them before, not even her parents. Her dreams were of unspeakable evil, a man in the shadows, a little boy, a toddler, with curly brown hair and terrified eyes begging Tessa to help him. Other faces, of men and women, much older, with accusing eyes, as if she was somehow responsible for whatever horrors they’d suffered. They all pleaded for her help, but she’d never known what to do.

“Tessa?” His eyes narrowed with concern.

She shied away from sharing the horrifying details but decided he’d earned the truth, or at least a piece of it. “Nightmares. That’s why this matters, why I do this. To make my nightmares go away.”

His blue eyes softened with sympathy. “Is it working?”

She clutched her hands in her lap. “Not yet.”

The door to the squad room opened and six of her fellow agents from the Savannah office came in, carrying boxes and laptop cases. Several of them nodded at her as the police officers led them to desks around the room, desks that had been cleared out once Casey told the police chief how many people to expect.

Finally, her boss glanced her way and motioned for her to join him.

Her pulse leaped and she shoved her chair back from the table. She grabbed a pad of paper and a pen.

“Come on, Matt. Casey wants to see us.”

“I’m pretty sure he just wants to see you. I’ll wait.”

She tugged him out of his chair.

“These are important people,” she said. “They could mean a lot to your career too. They can send great cases your way. And I’m not going to ignore your contribution to this investigation. You’re the reason this task force was put together. You deserve the credit.”

His brows rose in surprise, but he didn’t fight her. He followed her as she hurried through the squad room toward her boss. Someone called out her name and she half turned to see one of the Savannah agents waving at her. She waved back, but she wasn’t looking where she was going and her feet tangled up in the cords by one of the desks.

She started to pitch forward, but suddenly Matt was there, catching her around the waist, pulling her against him.

He lifted his hand and brushed her hair out of her eyes. “Are you okay?”

She stared at him in horror. “Are you insane?” she whispered. “Don’t touch me. Let me go.”

He frowned but dropped his hands.

Tessa straightened her clothing and glanced casually across the room at Carter, the agent who’d called her name. Judging by his smirk, he’d caught the whole tender exchange, with Matt brushing her hair back.

Wonderful.

“Tessa?” Casey sounded impatient now as he waved for her to join him.

She cleared her throat. “Come on, Matt. Casey’s waiting.” She squelched the flare of guilt that shot through her at the way his face had tightened into a stiff mask. Yes, he’d saved her from a fall, but did he really have to add that
special moment
for everyone to see? It would be a miracle if her peers didn’t hear about it, especially since the agent who’d seen them was the biggest gossip in the office.

At least her boss had missed that moment. He greeted them as if nothing untoward had happened. Then he spoke to the man across from him. “This is Special Agent Tessa James, and the private investigator who consulted on the case, Matt Buchanan.”

Tessa noted the past tense of “consulted.” Matt obviously noticed as well, because a look of disappointment flashed across his face as he shook hands with the head of the BAU.

“Mr. Buchanan,” Casey continued, “used a computer program he designed to find links between the letters we discussed and the homicide cases that we’re now investigating. And Agent James has been driving the investigation and refused to give up, even though the rest of us were ready to file this away as a cold case. Because of her diligence and determination, people’s lives will be saved.”

Tessa shook hands all around, the incident with Matt no longer seeming important as she accepted praise from the men surrounding her. Finally, after all her years of hard work, she was one of the boys, an equal, on her way up, getting the respect she’d craved for so long.

“Tessa,” Casey said, “I’d like you to be in charge of the murder books for both Sharon Johnson and John Crawford. You can consolidate the investigations the chief performed with your findings. You’ll ensure smooth communication and coordination on those cases, with all the departments and agencies involved.”

She swallowed hard. Setting up the murder books for the task force was a huge show of faith. Casey was essentially telling these important men that he trusted her abilities, that she was a key member of the team.

“You can go ahead and start setting that up. The chief ensured we have supplies in the conference room next to his office. And some of our Savannah agents will bring in the evidence from our office so you can catalog that in the book as well. I’ll be in as soon as we’re done here.”

“Will do. Thank you, sir.”

“Mr. Buchanan,” Casey said, “the FBI greatly appreciates your assistance in developing leads on this case. But now that we have the task force, your services are no longer needed. If you don’t mind waiting with Special Agent James, I’ll talk to you in a few minutes and wrap everything up.”

Tessa stiffened and was about to remind her boss that they wouldn’t even have this task force if it weren’t for Matt. But, as if sensing what she was about to do, Matt moved slightly in front of her and cleared his throat.

She realized he was trying to keep her from saying something she would later regret. So, instead, she remained silent until they reached the conference room.

When the door closed behind her, Tessa whirled around. “I’m sorry, about when I stumbled. You caught me, and I appreciate it. I just—”

He held up his hand. “It’s forgotten.”

She gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you.” Her smile faded. “I can’t believe Casey is letting you go early. It doesn’t make sense. Who knows what other kinds of leads you could generate if he gives you a chance? We wouldn’t even have a case if it weren’t for you.”

“Thank you for your outrage on my behalf,” he said. “But it’s not necessary. I’m not hurting for clients or money, so cutting this contract short isn’t a big deal.”

“But it is a big deal. You deserve the credit. It could garner you bigger and better contracts.”

“Whether the FBI thinks highly of me or not doesn’t concern me. Seriously. It doesn’t matter. Shouldn’t you be working on those murder books?”

Murder books. The excitement she’d felt earlier flared back to life. Setting up a murder book—the physical and electronic files that would guide the investigation—was an honor. She couldn’t screw this up. She was anxious to get started, but saying good-bye suddenly seemed like the hardest thing she’d ever done. It shocked her to realize that she’d actually enjoyed being with Matt these past few days, and that she was going to miss him.

Maybe it was a good thing that Casey was cancelling the contract. Obviously Matt was a weakness for her, and that didn’t bode well for her career. Putting some distance between them should help her regain her equilibrium and focus on what was important—her job.

“Thank you for your help. I wouldn’t have this tremendous opportunity without you.”

“I’m not so sure about that. You’re a smart, determined woman. I know you would have figured everything out, with or without me. But you do have me for a few more minutes, at least until your boss gets here. Is there anything I can do to help?”

She glanced at the office supplies lying in piles. Two computers with a printer between them were set up on the table in the middle of the room.

“Okay, yes. I could use your help. The first thing I need to do is set up a database.”

“I might know a thing or two about that,” he teased.

Twenty minutes later, they had an impressive start of a database even Quantico would be proud of.

A knock sounded on the door, and Casey stepped inside. His long strides took him quickly across the room.

“How’s it going?” he asked.

“We’ve got the basic structure set up. Matt put some controls in place to limit access, and some unique indexing that will make searches efficient and fast.”

“Sounds good. For now, I’d prefer that you not input the fingerprint details from Matt’s scanner. That will only muddy the waters, and it’s not an official, proven technology.”

“You mean, the fact that my fingerprints were on the letters?”

“We can’t prove that. And it would only clutter up the investigation.”

Some of her exuberance faded. “In other words, you believe I was sloppy and handled the letters without gloves, that my sequence of events is wrong. And you want to cover that up so I don’t embarrass our office.”

“That’s not what I said, and it’s not what I meant.”

Under the table, Matt put his hand on top of her thigh and gently squeezed. Once again, his touch threw her off-kilter just enough for her to pause, take a breath, and think. If Casey wanted to ignore a piece of evidence, so be it. She’d let it go, officially anyway.

Unofficially, she wasn’t about to ignore a fact just because it didn’t fit in with her preconceived conclusions. Matt had taught her the importance of details, of keeping all the facts at hand, no matter how trivial they may seem, because they might prove valuable in the future. The fact that her prints were on the letters was a clue. It might prove vital in stopping the killer, so she wasn’t going to just forget that little piece of information.