Deadly Dance (25 page)

She shook her head, turning her back on the window—on Sunderland. Tomorrow she was going home. And from there, she’d work to find center again. Hannah had said it would take time. But maybe that had just been a platitude. Maybe some things were beyond recovery, their imprint changing a person forever.

Certainly whatever had been left of her childhood was gone. She’d been forced to grow up in an instant. Face a reality that most people never even imagined. And yet, at the end of the day, she was alive. Still standing. Surely that had to count for something.

She blew out another breath and moved toward the door connecting the bedroom to the living area. She was hungry. Reid hadn’t woken her for dinner, the FBI agent no doubt choosing instead to let her sleep. Although the guy was predictably stoic, he’d been really great overall. Making her feel not only safe, but less alone.

Of course, Hannah had been with her every step of the way as well. Especially after Jasmine had been taken. Tina wasn’t sure how she’d have managed without her mentor. She’d always admired Hannah’s intelligence and self-assurance. But it was her compassion that had really impressed Tina. She genuinely cared about students, sometimes even putting their needs above her own.

Case in point.

And now Tina had experienced Hannah’s caring firsthand, in a way she’d never have been able to anticipate. Murder was an ugly thing. And when it was personal… She shivered again, pushing the thoughts from her mind. Just a few more hours and Roger would be here, and all of this would be behind her.

She opened the door, surprised to find that the lights were out in the living room as well. Of course it was late. And although Reid had agreed to staying inside the apartment because she’d asked him to, he’d made it more than clear that he preferred to be outside in the hallway. Preferring to maintain a tactical advantage. Whatever the heck that was.

The fact that she was even using those words showed just how much her world had changed in the last few days.

Irrevocably.

The word echoed in her head as she stepped into the living room, torn between checking on Reid and getting something to eat. Her stomach grumbled, and she settled on the latter, reaching for the light switch as she moved into the tiny galley that served as a kitchen. She flipped the switch. And her stomach tightened when nothing happened, the room still dark. Fear filled her gut, acid churning up into her throat, but then she remembered that there were two switches, the first meant to attach to a lamp or appliance or something else connected to the electrical outlet on the wall behind the counter.

She hit the second switch, and the kitchen was flooded with fluorescent light, the accompanying buzz comforting in an almost tangible way. The living room looked ghostly as the light spilled through the doorway, but
at least for the moment the shadows had retreated. She opened the refrigerator, the door momentarily blocking her view of the room, and as she studied the contents, she suddenly felt the hair on her arms raise.

Fighting for control, she slowly closed the door, turning to survey the room, her heart pounding. There was no one there. It was just her imagination on overdrive. But suddenly, she’d lost her appetite. Better to check in with Reid. He’d make her feel safer, if only because of the gun he carried. Again, she marveled at how much her life had changed in such a short span of time.

She closed her eyes, mustering strength from deep inside, the vitriol of everything that had happened threatening to overwhelm her. Hannah had said she had to be strong. For Sara. For Jasmine. And while she knew that Hannah was right, she wasn’t so sure suddenly that she could actually pull it off.

Ashamed at her own weakness, she squared her shoulders and headed for the front door. It was a heck of a lot easier to be brave when you had company. She reached out to release the deadbolt on the door, surprised to find that it was already unlocked.

For a moment, caution reared its head, but as she paused indecisively, she realized that Reid wouldn’t have locked the door if he was on the outside. She was just having a moment. A justifiable one, certainly, but that didn’t mean she needed to invent problems where there were none. Shaking her head at her own foolishness, she turned the knob, surprised when the door didn’t immediately open.

Frowning now, she put her weight into it, surprised when it suddenly gave, swinging inward just as the lights
in the apartment went dark, something heavy hitting the floor—faint light from the corridor illuminating the entryway. Her voice froze in her throat, her stomach twisting into a knot as her brain telegraphed what lay across her foot.

A body—Reid’s body.

Swallowing a scream, she ran forward but tripped, the momentum sending her sprawling across the floor. Something sticky coated her palms, and as she lifted her hand, the metallic smell of blood filled her nostrils. Her stomach threatened full revolt, and she choked back bile.

Self-preservation kicked in and she tried to scramble to her feet, but the floor was slick and it was difficult to find purchase. Heart threatening to break through her chest, Tina pushed up again, still fighting for balance, and this time she won. But she hesitated on the threshold of the front door, trying to decide the best course of action.

Behind her was a phone. In front of her freedom. Each option tantalizing in its potential reward. But in the end, freedom seemed the better course. Taking precious seconds, she bent to search the body with shaking fingers, her mind assuring her that Reid was long gone. She reached in his pockets and felt carefully under his body. There was no sign of his cellphone, but his gun was still in its holster, and she pulled it free, not certain that she could actually use it, but feeling stronger just holding it in her hand.

She stepped into the hallway, pressing herself against the wall, praying to be invisible as she strained in the dark for some sign of the intruder. She had no doubt he was out there somewhere—waiting for her to make the first move. Hunter and prey.

She swallowed and pushed away from the wall, taking the hallway on a sprint, focusing her attention on the stairs at the end of the corridor. They were lined with windows that opened out onto the front of the building. Just above where the men were stationed outside the door. If she could get the window open and scream—surely they’d hear her and come running.
If they were still alive
, the little voice in her head whispered, and she stumbled.

This time, however, she managed to keep her balance, to keep going. The head of the staircase was in sight now. Just a few more feet. She could actually see the light from the windows illuminating the stairs.

Then suddenly the light was gone, the door to the stairway slamming shut, the echo filling the corridor, the harsh ringing sounding a death knell.

Blood pounding in her ears, she whirled around, heading back the way she’d come, still gripping Reid’s gun, praying for a miracle. The deserted building had seemed like a sanctuary with Reid alive and protecting her. But now, it seemed like a prison. A tomb. And she pushed herself faster, heading back to the apartment. If the killer was behind her and she could make it to the apartment and lock the door—

She fought the urge to turn and look, instead concentrating on the end of the hall. Three doors more. She passed the first and then the second, and then just as she reached the apartment, a shadow loomed out from the darkness behind her, a hand closing around her hair, yanking her backward. With panic driving, she jerked the other way, knowing that her hair was ripping away at the skull, the pain a price worth paying if it bought her freedom.

For a moment, she felt the pressure lessen, and she sprang forward, still intent on gaining the safety of the apartment, but he was faster, his hand closing on her arm. Desperate, she lifted the gun, her finger closing around the trigger, fear overriding any hesitation. And with a muffled curse, she fired, bracing herself for the recoil. But there was nothing. The gun was empty.

The killer had set her up. This was all part of the game.

Rage rose hot and bitter inside her, and she swung out, striking him with the gun. But the blow glanced off his shoulder, and with a roar of anger, he slammed her back against the wall, her head hitting the plaster so hard it cracked beneath the blow. Pinned there, she could feel his breath against her skin, his fingers digging into her shoulders as she struggled against him.

“It’s no use,” he whispered. “You belong to me now.”

Her heart twisted, even as she continued to fight, knowing intuitively that he was right and the battle already lost. He covered her face with something cool and sweet smelling, and she tried to turn her head, to find some way to jerk free, but the chemical was already taking effect, her mind starting to swim, the edges of consciousness going fuzzy.

She thought about Roger. And Hannah. Feeling as though she’d somehow let them down. That if she’d only been a little bit faster or smarter, she’d have found a way to escape. But her thoughts were growing scrambled because suddenly it was Reid she’d failed. Reid and Jasmine.

She’d wondered how her friend had felt when facing certain death. And now, it looked as if she was about to find out.

“I feel like it’s right here in front of us, and we’re just missing it,” Hannah said, pushing back from her dining room table and the computer screen she and Harrison had been studying.

They’d been at it for what seemed like hours. Studying the photos the killer had left for her, the footage from the videos, the crime scene evidence, the autopsy reports, and everything else they’d collected in the process of the investigation. But there was nothing new. Nothing to give them any idea where Walker had gone or where he might strike next.

“It’s late,” Harrison said, his eyes dark with worry. “You need to get some rest.”

“There’s no way I can possibly get any sleep. Not with that bastard out there taunting us. Besides, every time I close my eyes, I see Sara and Jasmine—and what he did to them.” She shuddered, tilting back her head, fighting tears. “I just feel so helpless.”

“I know. It’s part of what gives him power. Knowing that we’re always one step behind. But he’s going to make a mistake, Hannah. We’re going to catch him.”

“I wish to hell I believed that,” she said, shaking her head as she let the sound of Harrison’s voice wash over her. Despite the severity of the situation, there was comfort in having him close. Just listening to the rhythm of his breathing made her feel calmer somehow. Helped her to keep focus.

She blew out a breath and pulled her chair back up to the table, her eyes back on the computer. “I just keep thinking that we’ll find something. That he’s left us a clue that we just haven’t seen. I mean everything points to his wanting us to find him. Right?”

“I don’t know,” Harrison said, shaking his head. “I thought so in the beginning. But now, I just feel like he’s toying with us. Getting off watching us chase our tails.”

“Maybe,” she conceded. “But if Tracy’s right he’s also letting himself fall into the fantasy. Letting the killings build into something more. A craving of some kind. Which means he’s not going to stop. It’s like an alcoholic taking just one drink—it’s never enough.”

“So do you want to go through all of this stuff again?” Harrison asked, frowning down at the scattered reports and photographs.

“No,” Hannah said, pushing away from the table again, her mind made up. “I want to go see Tina. Maybe there’s something else she’s remembered. Something that we overlooked the first time. Besides, she’s alone, and I’m guessing she’ll be happy for the company.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, not looking particularly pleased at the suggestion. “I wasn’t kidding. It really is late. Surely she’ll be asleep by now.”

“Seriously? Jasmine was Tina’s best friend. If I can’t close my eyes, you can be damned certain that she isn’t sleeping either.”

He opened his mouth to protest, then clearly thought better of it. “All right. We’ll go over there.”

“You don’t have to come.”

“Hannah, I’m not letting you go out there on your own, even if you are armed to the teeth.” He nodded to the gun she was slipping into her holster. “We’re in this together—remember?”

A sliver of heat shot through her as their gazes collided, the little voice in her head reminding her that the connection was situational. That she shouldn’t let herself
come to count on him. Better to hold on to her heart. It was safer that way.

“Okay, fine,” she said, turning her back, the effort costing her as she forced her attention back to the situation at hand. “We’ll go together. But I think we should go now.”

“All right then, let’s go.” He reached for his jacket and gun, and Hannah had the fleeting thought that Harrison Blake was the kind of man a woman would be a fool to throw away.

Fifteen minutes later, they were walking across the quad toward the administration building. The night sky was moonless, the stars burning pinpoints in the black-velvet sky. The trees moved in silent undulation as the cold wind whispered through the branches. The air was crisp, the smell of dying leaves punctuating the soft smell of wood smoke from somewhere nearby.

The upper floor of the building was dark, and for a moment, Hannah hesitated. Harrison had clearly been right. Tina was sleeping. And the idea of waking her to rehash the horror seemed unnecessarily cruel. But then a flicker of something against one of the upper-floor windows sent a shiver of dread coursing through her. Right or wrong, she needed to see Tina. Make certain that she was really safe.