Hunting (39 page)

Sebastian's week long
absence away from Carrie had probably made him antsy for his wife.
They'd not even been married for a year, and Al suspected they'd
spent almost as much time apart as they had together. It was nature
of the beast that was their job.

Carrie had probably texted
him, and he'd ran out to spend a few extra minutes before Carrie's
shift began.

Once again Al couldn't help
but think that Carrie Lorcan was one heck of a lucky woman. She
watched the couple for a moment, feeling that bit of envy and
loneliness that had been plaguing her for a while. Since
Thanksgiving, at least, when her oldest brother Malachi and Jules
had first gotten together, and in the months since, Al had felt a
bit...rootless. And she couldn't shake it. But she was happy for
Jules and Mal
and
Carrie and Sebastian. And for all the
other couples who'd found each other through PAVAD. Inner-Bureau
romances were usually frowned on, but PAVAD was full of them
lately. Even the deputy director in charge of PAVAD had recently
married the head of the forensics department. Romances in PAVAD
just seemed to work, for some reason.

But not for her.

Romance
just didn't
work for her, and that was one of her greatest sorrows. Still, she
had pretty much everything she wanted from life, and the people she
loved were happy and safe. So that was just fine with
Al.

Carrie cried out, and Al's
attention sharpened. Sebastian had his arm wrapped around Carrie's
neck
and was pulling her back toward the SUV. Carrie was
fighting
him. Carrie wouldn't fight Sebastian. And Sebastian
would
never
hurt Carrie.

Al sped up, every instinct
she possessed telling her this was wrong. Something wasn't
right.

She was close enough now
that Carrie could see her, and there was fear, confusion, and
pleading on the younger woman's face. Carrie was
terrified.

And now Al could see
why.

The man had
Sebastian's
face; she couldn't deny that.

But it definitely wasn't
Sebastian Lorcan wrapped around Carrie...

Loved Jules? Catch her in
Georgia and Hell’s book, first in the PAVAD series,

WATCHING,

now available as a free
download at participating retailers.

Chapter One

Thank God it wasn’t
her
child’s crime scene they were hiking toward. That
thought ran continuously through Dr. Georgia Dennis’ mind as she
picked her way over fallen branches and loose rocks, only steps
behind her partner.

What would the girl have
felt as she’d been forced up this hill? What fears would have run
through the child’s mind as the leaves cracked beneath her feet, as
the mud slipped out beneath her steps? Had her hands been bound the
entire time? Had she lost her balance? Had he pushed her down? How
would the UNSUB—the Unknown Subject—have controlled
his…catch?

Georgia’s breath caught in
her throat as she tried to put herself in the girl’s shoes. She
pushed away the feelings the girl’s parents must have felt, though
those
thoughts threatened to choke her. How could someone do
this? To a child? How could he do this and not think of the pain
and terror the child would be experiencing; how? “He may be a
sadist or a mission killer.”

“
Any evidence to back up
your theory so early in the investigation?” her partner and
supervisor Michael Hellbrook asked.

“
Method of
death...sir.”

“
Continue. Talk it out for
me.” Impatience was evident as he waited for her to climb the
log.

The local agent, Elias
Stanton, had met them at the base of the mountain to lead them to
this crime scene. He darted nervous glances between her and
Hellbrook. The tension between her and her supervisor was old news
to her, something that just 
was
. She hardly
noticed it anymore.

Georgia adjusted her
backpack, scanning the overgrown trail for any signs of the killer
the locals may have missed. She continued on. Her foot slipped on a
loose rock and she kicked it aside. Had the killer considered that
stone? Had he carried the rocks with him up the trail? “Stoning.
It’s a traditional method of killing, used as far back as Biblical
times. A young girl, just becoming aware of her sexuality. He sees
it, decides to cleanse—therefore, mission killer. He could also be
a classic sadist. Someone who wandered into the idea of stoning,
possibly by throwing rocks at a small animal—or even a smaller
child. Someone who enjoyed
watching
his victims suffer.
Someone who picked those who couldn’t retaliate. Or those he put
into positions where they couldn’t fight back.”

“
So someone who enjoyed
hurting others?” Confusion tinged the local’s tone. It didn’t
surprise her. Many agents—even if they were
good
agents—struggled with the idea of profiling.

“
Yes. And he’s raging
against all females, especially those similar in type to the four
victims. Were there any signs of sexual assault?” Georgia hated to
ask, especially since the victims in this case were all teenage
girls. She hated when the victims were kids, always imagining her
four-year-old son Matthew in their place. Imagining herself in
their parents’ places.
That
was what she took from each case
that dealt with children—the pain on the parents’ faces.

She slipped her hand into
her pocket, running a finger over the toy car her son had tucked in
there that morning before they’d left the house.

He
 was why she
did this. For each of these monsters she took off the streets, the
chance that one would get her baby lessened. She never lost sight
of that. 
Her
son would not be a victim.

“
Preliminary findings were
inconclusive. M.E. was nervous about doing an extensive autopsy.
They're waiting for our go ahead to bring in our own medical
examiner.” Hellbrook barely looked at her. That also didn’t
surprise her. They didn’t have the strongest of relationships, by
any means. His fault. She’d tried.

“
And nothing’s been found
in the seven hours since we were first notified?”

“
Uh...no,
ma’am.”

Georgia kept her eyes on
Hellbrook’s back as she followed him and the other man when they
began hiking again. “I take it our medical examiner is on
the way?”

Calling for one would have
been Georgia’s job had she been left behind at the precinct. She
normally handled the miscellaneous tasks that other agents didn’t
have time to handle. That was her normal lot with Hellbrook’s team.
Six months since she’d been assigned to his unit, and today was the
first he’d let her out of the precinct. He’d had no choice—his
customary partner was too sick to leave the precinct, and there
were too many crime scenes for the rest of the team to
cover.

She hated that it had come
down to necessity for him to grant her request—one she’d made on
every new case—but she was glad he finally had. She wanted to do
her job, all aspects of it. And she really wanted the creep who’d
targeted these four little girls for his sick game.

She wanted to be out
there, 
needed
 to be out there, stopping the
monsters who preyed on the weak. 
That
 was why
she’d joined the FBI in the first place, 
that
 was
why she’d studied hard and earned two doctorates by the time she’d
hit twenty-five.

“
Of course. Come on. It’ll
be sunset soon and we need to get what we can before that
point.”

Georgia hurried to keep up
with him as his long legs ate up the trail. She understood his
impatience; she needed to be at the scene just as much as
he, but both she and Stanton were struggling to keep up. What good
would that do Hellbrook?

Hell kept one eye on
Georgia, wanting to make certain she—the smallest member of his
team—could handle the hike to the first crime scene. The animal
trail they followed was not an easy path for any of them, but the
petite Georgia would have a tougher time. She had to stretch in a
few places or climb over logs and rocks that he and Stanton had
little difficulty scaling.

He wanted to grab her arm
and drag her along. He had always been an impatient man, especially
when on the hunt for child-killers. He forced himself to keep his
hands off his partner, letting the local agent help her when
needed.

Hell sensed the other man
enjoyed helping her. And
she
would fight like the devil if
he
ever offered to help. That was mostly his fault for the
way he’d treated her over the last six months. But habits were hard
to break. Even for him.

“
He’s athletic,” she said
when they took a short break. “Comfortable in this
area.”

“
Local,” Hell added.
It had been a tough climb for them, and he suspected it
would get worse. The man they were searching for would have known
that. And would not have attempted the climb if he hadn’t thought
he’d be able to complete it. Confidence? Arrogance? Or just
skilled? “Stanton, how much farther?”

“
The pit’s about another
mile or so. Three or four decades back this area was mined for fill
dirt. These pits scar the hills, most are overgrown now, most are
filled with water. Terrain made it difficult to dig large holes
around here, so there are quite a few smaller ones. Steep sided,
and not very wide at the bottom. Made it easy for the guy to trap
these kids and use them for his target practice. First body was
found in a forty-foot hole. Cadaver dogs sniffed her
out.”

They hiked the rest of the
way in silence. Hell ran a quick eye over his partner, making sure
she was still with him. She looked fine, as if she’d barely broken
a sweat. She looked
better
than fine, if Hell was being
honest. She always did. Had he ever seen a woman look so put
together when climbing through the mud-drenched woods? Only Georgia
Dennis,
princess
of the division her father had
created.

The late April sun tangled
in the dark brown curls poking out the back of the FBI issue cap
she wore, distracting him for a moment. Dr. Dennis was an
incredibly attractive woman; Hell couldn’t deny that. He had been
aware of that from the moment they first met. Even when dressed in
nondescript jeans and windbreaker like she was today, that small,
exquisitely formed woman with pale skin and dark hair had a way of
drawing male eyes. Had a way of tempting male hands to touch, to
stroke. To tangle in that dark hair.

Dammit;
Hell shook
off thoughts of his unwanted partner and refocused on the job at
hand. He didn't have time for the distraction that was Georgia
Dennis.

The crime scene was as the
photos had portrayed and taped off with standard yellow police
tape. They stepped up to the barrier and studied the forty-foot
hole. Hell’s stomach clenched in reaction; he’d struggled with
heights since the age of five when he’d fallen out second story
window.

Georgia suffered no such
weakness. She fingered the crime tape and peered down into the pit
with careless disregard that she was four stories above the bottom.
“The hole’s what? Forty feet deep?”

Both Stanton and Hell
nodded.

“
Still, with the
overgrowth on the sides, the grade’s about fifty to sixty degrees.
The fall would injure, but probably not kill,” Stanton said. “We
figure the guy used these pits as a type of holding
pen.”

“
An organic cage, hard for
his victims to escape, but not impossible,” Georgia said, her tone
full of disgust and fury. Hell understood. He felt the same. “He
likes to play games.”

Hell itched to grab the
handle of the black backpack she wore everywhere and yank her back
to his side. And hold her there. Far away from that damned edge.
She stepped back seconds before he acted on that
impulse.

She turned to Stanton. “How
many miles from the other three crime scenes?”

“
Six miles. Is that
important?” Stanton asked.

“
It may tell us something
later. No detail is too insignificant at this point.” The nerves in
Hell’s stomach loosened as Georgia took another step away from the
edge.

“
Has anyone other than the
search teams and the local M.E. and deputies been down there?”
Georgia asked.

“
No, a spring snow came in
on the heels of finding the first and second bodies. Then there was
the race of keeping up with the body count. Last two victims went
missing two days ago and yesterday. Both bodies were found
yesterday evening, less than six hundred feet apart.” Stanton
peered over the side once more. “Why?”

“
Because we need to go
down there.” She didn’t ask or wait for Hell’s permission, ducking
under the crime tape and disappearing from his view within
seconds.

Hell cursed before
following. “Dennis—you could have waited for
permission!”

She moved quicker than a
damned goat; the weeds, brambles, and mud slowing her only
slightly. Hell stumbled the last few yards, then stopped a foot
from his wayward agent and glared down at her. “Next time, Dr.
Dennis, you wait for my orders before entering a sealed off
area—especially one forty feet down! What if you’d
fallen?”