Deadly Deception (2 page)

She scoffed, taking a few steps away. “As far as I’m concerned, the bastard’s already dead. I don’t need to watch him squirm.”

“No. But those families in there might. Hell, we didn’t come all this way just to back out at the last moment.” His footsteps sounded behind her a moment before his fingers closed around her wrist. “You promised.”

She glanced at his hand then drew her gaze up to his. “And you promised you’d respect my decision.” She sighed, looking over at the door. “You know how I feel about…” She waved at it. “This. About him.”

Cole pulled his lips into a thin line, apparently not missing the way she trembled slightly beneath his touch. “You could just admit you can’t stand to look at him. To remember what happened that night. No one expects you to forget.”

“No. But they expect me to continue to do my job, which becomes strangely difficult where he’s concerned. That… Watching that isn’t my job. Catching his ass was. A new case, however…”

“So you’re not going to admit it?”

She flashed him what she hoped was a stunning smile. “And ruin your badass image of me? Not a chance.”

She pulled her arm free and took two more steps before his voice sounded behind her again, stopping her in her tracks.

“I couldn’t help but notice Sawyer didn’t rearrange his life to be here, either. Are you sure this doesn’t have anything to do with that?”

She cringed inwardly at the tone of Cole’s voice. He wasn’t holding back this time.

She glanced at him. “We both knew he wasn’t coming.”

“Maybe. But I think you hoped he was…for support. Surely he knew how hard this was going to be for you.”

She laughed, shaking her head as she turned to face Cole. “Not as hard as facing me would have been for him. And even I know this isn’t the place for that kind of
reunion
. But I figure since he can pull the invisible man routine, so can I.” She motioned at the stairwell off to her right. “Now are you coming, or are you going back in there to watch a dead man die?”

Cole scoffed, nodding at her as they headed for the exit. “Fine. But if anyone asks, I’m blaming Fisher.”

Lightning flickered in the sky as Mallory pulled into the narrow alleyway, parking her black Jeep beside one of the cruisers. Red and blue lights reflected off the rain, bathing the street with a strobe-like glow. Yellow tape blocked the way, enclosing the area in a familiar box she’d seen far too many times. They’d driven straight, the long trip unusually quiet. Cole had muttered a few token words, but it was obvious he wasn’t pleased with her decision to ditch the execution.

She sighed. Just thinking about the creep made her shiver, though she’d never admit that to Cole, or anyone else for that matter. Davies was a weakness she needed to put behind her, and the sooner, the better.

Cole grumbled something under his breath about the weather ruining his leather jacket and the slew of cop cars blocking the road as he opened the door and stepped out, turning his collar up against the chill. Mallory followed, glancing up at the dark sky. April was usually one of her favourite months, but tonight, it had a desolate quality to it that made her feel lonely.

She sighed and followed after Cole, ducking beneath the tape as she made her way over to Fisher. He stood amidst a group of cops, a black sheet at his feet. She gave the covered body a quick glance, knowing just by the size and shape it had to be a woman, or worse, a teenage kid. The police officers turned as she stopped behind them, their faces clearly questioning her presence. She raised her badge and pushed through to Fisher, ignoring the looks the other men gave her.

“What’s so important? While I don’t mind your timing, I’m definitely going to catch shit over leaving the execution early.”

Fisher nodded, murmuring a quick, “Hey,” to Cole when the man rounded the sheet and stopped on Fisher’s other side.

He pointed at the body. “In this particular case, I think the body will speak for itself.” He knelt down and pulled back the cover, revealing bare, pale limbs and patches of pooled blood. “I also think this is going to make ‘catching shit’ seem a little less important.”

Mallory drew a deep breath as she stared at the body—a young woman, no more than twenty-two, with blonde hair and even features. She looked more athletic than most, with firm limbs and a lean torso. But it was the pose that held Mallory’s attention. Legs bent to one side with her arms raised over her head, the victim looked like a cheerleader jumping in the air.

The image hit Mallory hard, and she couldn’t stop from taking a step back. Her gaze skirted over the body, unerringly going to every detail without hesitation—the ligature marks around her neck, the imprint of rope on her wrists and ankles, the trail of blood down her inner thighs. The only new element was a four-inch wound on the woman’s right side, just below her ribcage.

Mallory shook her head. “Dear God.” She circled around to her left, looking for more evidence, certain the one answer screaming in her head couldn’t be correct. “From the look of the body, she’s only been dead eight or nine hours… This… It can’t…”

She looked away, staving off the sudden rush of emotions. She was obviously missing something—something that pointed this murder in a completely logical direction. It simply couldn’t be what it appeared.

A hand settled on her shoulder, drawing her back from her thoughts. She glanced up, looking into Cole’s dark brown eyes. They held the same disbelief she suspected hers did.

She took a deep breath, knowing he was waiting for her to speak but aware there wasn’t anything to say. “It can’t… I mean… Shit!”

Fisher moved over to her. “I had a feeling you might feel that way.” He turned towards the dead girl. “Confusing as hell, really.”

Mallory gave herself a mental shake. “There’s bound to be a rational explanation for this. Obviously, we’re dealing with a copycat here.”

Cole huffed behind her as he knelt beside the body. “This ain’t a fucking copycat and you know it, Mal. Look at the way the sash is tied around her waist. It’s identical to the other twelve victims…same knot, same way he tucked the ends back underneath the fabric. We never released that information to the press.”

“Shit gets out, Cole. You know that as well as I do. Someone could have shared that bit of information without us being any the wiser. Besides, the other victims didn’t have a knife wound below their ribs.”

Cole’s gaze clashed with hers, his expression sending icy chills down her spine.

He motioned towards her. “You mean the same kind of wound you have? In exactly the same place? No, they didn’t. But that just confirms our hunch. The bastard added that to mess with you…end of story.”

Malloy sighed, palming her hands on her hips. “Okay. Let’s say for one minute this isn’t a copycat. Care to tell me how in the hell John Davies murdered this woman when he was fucking killed just hours ago by lethal injection?” She threw up her hands as she stalked around the body, shaking her head. “What the hell, man? How did he pull it off? He’s been on death row for the last eighteen months. Let me guess…wormhole?”

Cole pushed to his feet as she stopped in front of him. “Damn it, Mal. I’m as angry and shocked as you, but you can’t look at this woman and tell me her death isn’t the work of that fucking psychopath.” He held up a hand when she scoffed at him. “I don’t have a goddamn clue how he pulled it off, but I’m certain of one thing. Nothing good is going to come from this investigation.”

Mallory stared at the dead woman, Cole’s words echoing in her head. She could deny it as much as she wanted, but he was right. Somehow John Davies had claimed another victim.

* * * *

Mallory reached for a mug, pouring herself another cup of coffee. The office was just starting to come to life, with agents ambling in. The grey light of a late sunrise chased away the shadows, taking some of her tension with it. Though it was hardly rational, something about the sun made everything seem just a bit less horrific, as if the light held some kind of magic. Whatever it was, she welcomed the brief reprieve that had haunted her every waking moment since Fisher had revealed the body the previous night.

Footsteps sounded behind her and she turned as Director Don Henderson walked through the staffroom doorway, his shoes squeaking slightly on the polished floor. She gave him a smile as she leaned against the counter, knowing he wasn’t here to simply grab some coffee or breakfast.

“Mallory.”

“Sir.”

He chuckled at the formality. Though she knew he preferred to be on a first-name basis with his agents, this didn’t feel like the kind of conversation where she’d feel comfortable calling him Don.

He nodded at the mug in her hands. “Late night, or early morning?”

“More of a late night that turned into an early morning.” She added some sugar, stirring it as she watched him over her shoulder. “Cole and I came back to go over some old files after Fisher’s surprise last night.”

“You two are stubborn like that. I think it’s one of the reasons you work so well together.” He poured himself a cup. “Come to any conclusions?”

“Just one. John Davies was a sick bastard who enjoyed killing and raping young women.”

“I think we’d already established that. And seeing as Davies is dead…”

She nodded, leaning against the counter again. “I know. None of it makes sense. Cole’s convinced this isn’t a copycat, but unless Davies somehow got out of his cell, there’s no way on earth he killed that woman. We’ve been searching the old records, trying to see if we overlooked anything—like the possibility of an accomplice—but haven’t been able to find any trace that would suggest we missed a previous connection.” She kicked her toe against the floor. “We’ll have a better idea once the lab gets back to us. They think they might have gotten some DNA from the body. We’ll compare it along with better images of the marks left by the rope and close-ups of the sash. If this is Davies’ work, that’ll confirm it.”

“And if it points towards Davies, then what?”

“Well, it’s a bit late to question the man, unless you’ve got better connections than I thought.”

Henderson smiled, but it quickly faded. “Something tells me you wouldn’t have been the first one in line to question him, anyway.”

Their gazes clashed. She’d known that he’d eventually bring up the execution last night. “Probably not.”

“Which brings me to the reason I came in here. I got a call from Captain Trevor Watts on the way here. You remember Trevor, don’t you? The cooperative Chief of Homicide who provided invaluable assistance during our investigation. He went on about how the only two agents who had bothered to witness Davies’ execution ditched the proceedings just as they were strapping the man to the gurney. Care to explain?”

She held his gaze, wondering if he’d already talked to Cole or Fisher. “The simple explanation is that Fisher called and said it was urgent. Since there were other officers present, I thought my time was better spent dealing with live criminals.”

“Davies wasn’t dead yet. What if the Governor had called and stayed his execution?”

“I considered that. But since it had about as much chance of happening as say, Cole getting a date, I figured the odds were in my favour.”

A hint of a smile touched Don’s lips. “Cole seems to think you couldn’t stand staying there. That being so close to Davies got to you.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Did he say that?”

Henderson scoffed. “Hell no. That man wouldn’t give you up if you’d pulled your gun and tried to shoot the bastard through the glass. Let’s just say I deduced it from everything he
didn’t
say.”

Mallory looked down at the floor. Why did it always come back to that night? “I think it’s fair to say Davies’ presence made me feel
uneasy
.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of traumatised, but I’ll go with your description for now.” He moved closer, checking the doorway before focusing on her face. “You know, Mallory, just because you put this in the books a while back, doesn’t mean you aren’t still dealing with it. If you need more time—”

“I’m fine, sir, as shown by the fact I passed the psych eval almost two years ago.”

“No one thinks you’re crazy, but…let’s just say John Davies cost you more than just a few weeks on the job.” He straightened, taking a swig of coffee. “Cole told me Sawyer neglected to show up.”

Mallory clenched her jaw. This was definitely not going in a direction she wanted. “Sawyer’s two thousand miles away. Maybe there was traffic.”

Don shook his head, the murmur of a chuckle drifting across the short space between them. “Right. Either way, he should have come…for more than one reason.” He took another sip, looking at the coffee as if he’d never tasted it before. “Damn. I don’t know how you drink this stuff.”

“Iron gut.” She took a deep breath. “If you’d like me to call the precinct and explain about last night, I’ll—”

“No need. I already explained the situation.” He dumped the rest of his coffee down the small sink behind her and headed for the door. “But if I lose to Watts on the golf course next week, you
will
be bringing me real coffee for a week.”

Henderson gave her a smile and left just as Cole walked into the room. He gave the director a nod, raising his eyebrow at her as he headed for the sink.

“Henderson giving you shit for skipping out on the execution?”

“More like asking me if he needed to send me to the psych ward for a few days.” She levelled a stare at him. “Somehow he got the impression I was creeped out by Davies last night.”

“Weren’t you?”

“Yeah. But he doesn’t need to know that.”

Cole held up his hands. “Don’t look at me. I didn’t say shit about that.”

“Henderson said as much. But apparently you’re not quite the blank read you think you are.” She sighed, watching a bubble float around the edge of her mug. “Forget it. Let’s just deal with the case. Any news from the lab?”

“Other than confirming the woman’s identity to be that of one Susan Bach, age twenty, nothing. Basically, they nicely told me to fuck off and leave them alone to do their job. Said they’ll call us when they’ve got anything remotely useful.”