Disarming Detective (18 page)

But where did that leave them? With her returning home in a week at the very most? Especially now, when she’d obviously made the decision to resist this pull between them. How was he going to breach her defenses?
Could
he breach them?

He was an idiot. He was an idiot for getting drawn into the discussion about Lyla. He was an idiot for falling for Ella in the first place. Because what he’d told Lyla was true—Ella lived too far away.

And both of them had jobs that demanded all their time. It wasn’t as if the investigations would stop coming just because it was a weekend. Ella’s job was probably worse. Even if they
did
try to make something long-distance happen, how long before visits started getting cancelled because of cases? Too much of that and a relationship would fizzle, no matter how much he wanted it.

What chance did they have, really?

But as he looked at her now, her dark brown eyes so serious and wary as she stared back at him, he knew he had to try. Because as much of an idiot as it made him, he loved her.

It was ridiculous. He knew that. He’d met her fewer than two weeks ago; genuine love shouldn’t have been able to develop that fast. But he didn’t doubt that was what he felt. It was too intense, too tied up in things that went way beyond simple lust.

So, instead of denying himself what he could have in their short time together, he took her hand tightly in his. He locked his eyes on hers, wondering if her intuitive profiler mind could read exactly what he was feeling.

Her lips parted and he thought she was going to say something, but then she ducked her head and pulled her hand free. “We’d better get started,” she said, but her voice was barely above a whisper.

Dismay filled him, but he forced himself to focus. Laurie might have been past saving, but she deserved justice. And she deserved his full attention.

He pulled the folder closer for Ella. “We only recovered a partial body, because of the alligators, but Laurie’s body was dumped a few days ago. And she was burned, same as Theresa.” His voice caught and he cleared his throat. Was this ever going to get any easier?

“A few days ago? I thought officers checked the marsh when she originally went missing.”

“They did. But she wasn’t found in the same area as Theresa and we have a large system of marshes here.”

Ella nodded and opened the folder containing the autopsy photos. “There are a lot more burns this time.”

She looked up, staring vacantly ahead of her as she let out a long breath. “It doesn’t matter how much of this kind of thing I see, every time,
every time
, it boggles my mind how one person can do this to another.”

She clutched the edge of the table and he resisted the urge to reach for her hand again, knowing she’d pull away.

“I mean, I can get into the killers’ heads, deconstruct them on a psychological level. Abusive home life, lack of empathy, need for control, whatever.” Her voice picked up speed, picked up fury. “But at the end of the day, I’m just left wondering
why
.”

She closed her eyes and he could see her trying to regain composure. He expected her to open them again and go back to the folder, go back to her clinical profiler voice and tell him whatever else she could about this killer.

Instead, when she opened her eyes and turned to look directly into his, he saw tears brimming there. “After we made that pact—Maggie, Scott and I—I wanted this job with the FBI, this particular role at BAU, because I wanted to understand. Like maybe that would, I don’t know, make some kind of sense of it all. Make some kind of sense of what had happened to Maggie.”

A tear rolled down her cheek and Logan felt her hurt as an ache in his own chest. Not caring if she rebuffed him again, he took her hand in one of his and wiped the tear away with the other.

This time, she didn’t pull away. She squeezed his hand tighter as she told him, “It doesn’t. None of it makes any sense.” He could feel her shaking as she said, “But usually, I’m good at this. And being able to get into the killer’s head means fewer victims. That’s why I stay. Because I feel like it matters.”

She looked at the folder again, then shook her head. “Days like these, though, and I wonder what I’m doing.”

She released a loud breath that sounded almost like a laugh. “Sorry. That was morose.” She turned on her tough profiler voice. “I can do this. Let’s go over the details and catch this guy.”

Logan kept hold of her hand, rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. “I know you can. And I admire you even more because it’s hard for you and you do it anyway.”

Ella turned to him, her eyes unreadable as she studied him for a long moment. “You always know the right thing to say to make me feel better,” she finally said softly. “No wonder you’re so hard to resist.”

* * *

“
T
HERE
’
S
NO
QUESTION
we have a serial killer in Oakville.”

Police Chief Patterson made that announcement from a podium at the front of the briefing room, which was filled with officers from every shift. Most of them looked exhausted from pulling relentless overtime, and grim from the recent discovery of Laurie’s body.

“Until now, the serial killer angle was considered a remote possibility,” the chief continued and Ella glanced at Logan, sitting next to her.

Weariness showed in every line of his face, in the droop of his eyelids, and the longer-than-usual stubble on his chin. But beneath it, Ella still saw the simmering anger over what had been done to the victims, and the relentless determination that had driven him to fight his chief every step of the way to let him chase his serial killer theory.

“But Detective Greer was convinced enough about this to bring in an FBI profiler. And he was right.”

Surprise flashed briefly across Logan’s features. He’d probably never expected the chief to say those words.

Ella’s hand twitched, wanting to reach for Logan’s. He deserved the recognition. He was a dedicated and talented detective, and it was about time Oakville realized how lucky they were to have him.

She was biased. She knew it. But the truth was, she’d coordinated with a lot of detectives in her work at the BAU, and Logan
was
exceptionally good. How many other detectives would have seen Theresa’s case and recognized a potential serial killer? Heck, even her boss had turned the case down, which meant he hadn’t seen it. And he’d been dealing with serial killers his entire career.

“The FBI profiler is going to talk to us now, tell us new details about this killer to help us nail him,” Chief Patterson continued, refocusing Ella’s attention.

She wished he’d remembered to remind everyone that her consultation was unofficial, that the officers were supposed to keep any discussion of her involvement entirely in-station.

Her boss at the BAU knew she was here, but he’d told her in no uncertain terms that the trip hadn’t been approved. She might be sure they had a serial killer on their hands, but it still wasn’t an FBI case because it hadn’t been through the proper channels.

But hopefully they’d find the killer soon and it wouldn’t become an issue. Ella stood and took her place behind the podium, wishing she’d taken the time to put on something more businesslike. “Most of you know me by now. But for those of you who don’t, I’m Ella Cortez. I work for the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, creating profiles of killers like this one. I’m here on my own time, but I’ve been working with Lo—Detective Greer over the past week and we have some points we’d like to go over today.”

She looked down at the list she’d jotted, which was still pitifully short. But it was better than nothing.

Scanning the room, she said, “This killer has a type. If you haven’t already, look at the pictures of the victims. They’re both college age with long, dark hair. And when they were abducted, they were both supposedly leaving town. We’re working now to coordinate a piece with the local news warning women to be particularly careful as they leave town to head home.”

Lyla was going to do the story on tonight’s eleven o’clock news. They’d talked to her earlier in the day. It had been awkward, but when it was over, Ella’d had to admit that maybe she’d misjudged Lyla. And from the way Lyla had been looking at Logan during most of the meeting, she had a feeling Lyla was having second thoughts about their breakup.

A sour feeling climbed up Ella’s throat, but she tried to ignore it. As much as she might want a claim on Logan, she didn’t have one.

She continued, “The killer is a loner, unmarried, between the ages of twenty and forty. He’s socially awkward. We still don’t know how he’s luring his victims, but before he kills them, he’s burning them. And there’s a very good chance that the killer has scars from burns himself. If you know of anyone like that in the area, talk to Detective Greer right away. Otherwise, we need to look for someone who has these kinds of scars. But we need to do it quietly and carefully. Because if the killer thinks we’re getting too close, he might take drastic measures, including grabbing more victims.”

The officers in the room all stared back at her, listening intently.

“There’s one final thing. It’s possible the killer is using a dark blue van in the commission of these crimes. Any potential suspect with access to that type of vehicle should be approached with particular care.”

When Ella stepped away from the podium, the officers looked around, as if they’d been expecting more. As if they’d been expecting her to hand them a miracle. She could only regret her inability to do it.

“That’s all,” Chief Patterson said. “For everyone who’s not on shift right now, thanks for coming in. For those of you who are, get back out there.”

As the officers slowly filed out of the room, Ella looked at Logan. Finding Laurie’s body had confirmed the things they’d suspected. But it hadn’t really told them anything new about this killer.

On Logan’s face, she saw reflected the same thing she was thinking—did they know enough? Could they find him before he claimed another victim?

* * *

E
LLA
HAD
JUST
turned on the TV to watch the live segment on the news when her cell phone rang. She glanced at it across the room and debated ignoring it. It wasn’t Logan calling, because he and Chief Patterson were about to be interviewed live by Lyla. But it could still be about the case, so she hit mute and stood up.

Hopefully, it was one of Adam Pawlter’s shrimping crew returning her calls. She and Logan had tried to catch them after she’d given her profile at the station, but they’d gone back out on the boat. She would have rather talked to them in person, but over the phone was better than nothing.

She answered the phone just as it was about to go to voice mail. “Isabella Cortez.”

“Hi, there. Ella’s short for Isabella, is it? I like that.”

The voice was a man’s and it instantly gave her the creeps, but Ella didn’t recognize it. She tried to focus as an image of Lyla inside the police station appeared on the TV screen. “Who’s speaking?”

“This is Sean. Sean Fink. We met yesterday near my house, remember?”

Ah, that explained the slime practically oozing through the phone. “Mr. Fink. How did you get my number?”

Sean sounded proud of himself as he replied, “I got it from someone at the station. I told them I had some information you wanted.”

Unbelievable. Ella tried to keep her tone neutral as she watched Logan and Chief Patterson come on-screen for the interview. “What information is that?”

“Well, I was thinking some more about what you asked me the other day. About seeing Theresa and Laurie around town before they went missing? I realized I had some more details that could help you.”

As soon as Sean mentioned the victims by name, Ella’s attention was entirely on the phone call. When they’d talked to him yesterday, he’d referred to Laurie as simply the girl who’d gone missing. He would likely have seen her name in the news, but the casual way he’d just thrown out their names, as if he’d known them all along, had the hair on the back of Ella’s neck standing at attention.

She wanted to talk to Adam’s nephew and the others in the shrimping crew primarily because of the blue van that had seemed to set Adam on edge. But Sean Fink had a blue van, too.

She clicked the TV off and asked, “What can you tell me?”

“I thought we should meet,” Sean said. “I’m at your hotel now.”

Chills danced down Ella’s spine and she fought to keep the suspicion out of her voice. “I wasn’t aware that you knew where I was staying.”

Sean laughed and Ella realized he was at least a little bit drunk. “It was pretty obvious from what Logan said yesterday. I’m at the Traveler’s Hotel.”

The nerves clutching Ella’s stomach relaxed. At least he wasn’t here. But the Traveler’s Hotel was where she’d been followed by the blue van.

She’d dismissed Sean from her suspect list, thinking he was too sure of himself to be the killer, but she might have been wrong. Maybe the persona of confident, smarmy flirt was brought on by alcohol. Maybe when he wasn’t drinking, he was awkward and socially inept. Maybe he was a killer.

Ella reached for her gun. “Sure, I’ll meet you. But how about we do it at the coffee shop near the police station? Say twenty minutes?”

The coffee shop was open twenty-four hours and catered mostly to cops and tourists. It was closer to the Traveler’s Hotel than where she was staying now. Without a car, it would take her fifteen minutes to get there. That gave her five to change out of her pajamas and call Logan.

There was a pause. “Yeah, okay, I guess that’ll work. I’ll see you soon.”

As Sean hung up, Ella tried not to imagine anything ominous in his last words. There was a chance he was the killer, yes, but more likely he was just clueless, intoxicated and trying to use the case to hit on her again.

But as Ella threw on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, she had to wonder. What if he trolled for victims and set up meetings with them when he was drunk and full of liquid courage? Sober, and back to feeling awkward and shy, he might want the women somewhere isolated to grab them. And he certainly knew the area well enough to use the marshes as disposal sites.