Jane Doe's Return (13 page)

“Actually, I like talking with you.”

“God, you’re such a flirt. Hey, honey, its Gumby Boy.”

Travis shook his head. That woman would never let him forget his stupid youth.

“What’s up?” Jake had spent fifteen years as a Green Beret working in top-secret government stuff that he was never allowed to talk about. Travis knew Jake had spent a few years chasing down members of Al-Qaeda in some remote area, but something happened and Jake retired. Now he ran his own private investigating firm and constantly bugged Travis to join him.

“You know anyone with the Saratoga Police?”

“As a matter of fact I do. Why?”

“Would you mind asking him to do a little digging?”

“I never mind. Who?”

“Shauna Morgan.”

“You’re going to dig on your own partner?”

“No, you are. She’s been collecting information for years on my guy. She even did a paper on my sister’s file in school.”

“Hmm. That’s interesting.”

“That’s all you have to say?” Travis stared at Jane Doe’s picture on his ceiling.

“What do you want me to say? She’s your partner.”

“Don’t you find it odd she’s spent so much time on this?” Travis asked.

“I suppose. Have you thought about asking her?”

“Of course not, that would be too obvious. Besides, if she’s hiding something from me, she’d still lie.”

“Have a little more faith in your partner,”

Jake remarked.

“I have faith in my instincts…and you.”

“Gee, thanks. I’ll let you know what I find out.” The phone went dead. Jake had a way of hanging up when he was done, regardless of the other person. “Thanks.” Travis turned out the light and prayed for sleep. Slowly, it came to him. That was until an ear-piercing scream came from his guest room.

Springing from his bed, he grabbed his gun and took off toward another scream.

“No! Leave me alone!” Shauna sat in the bed and punched at the air. “Stop! You’re hurting me! No! Please. No,” she whimpered.

“Shauna?” Travis put his gun on the nightstand, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Please don’t hurt me.” She sobbed.

“It’s okay.” He pulled her close. “I’m here. No one’s going to hurt you.”

She continued to cry, wrapping her arms around him. She held him tight and shook like a scared baby animal left alone to fend for itself.

He tucked himself in bed with her and stroked her hair until he knew she had fallen into a deep sleep. “What happened to you?” he whispered at her temple, planting a kiss there.

Her secret might be as simple as someone hurt her.

But who?

And why?

Chapter Seven 

God, that smell
. Shauna inhaled deeply, taking in a scent she could wake to everyday. It smelled like a mixture of early morning mist rising from the lake and soft pine from the mountaintop on a cool fall morning. It smelled like Travis.

She opened her eyes in shock. That delicious aroma was right under her nose.

A faint gasp escaped her before she could cover her mouth. The male version of Sleeping Beauty lay curled up next to her, his hair perfectly rumpled. Why the hell was he in her bed? She didn’t remember him joining her. Worse, she didn’t seem to mind.

She blinked and then looked beneath the sheets. Thank God, she was fully clothed. With a sigh of relief, she crept from under the covers, grabbed her running clothes, and then snuck out of the bedroom.

The clock on the wall said it was six. She’d have plenty of time for a run, but a better idea came to mind. She peeked back into the bedroom. He lay on his side, one hand tucked under the pillow, the other where her body had been. He looked peaceful. God, he was a perfect specimen.

Don
’
t
d
o
it
,
Morgan
.
She tiptoed toward Travis’s bedroom. You could learn so much from what a man kept in his room, and she just couldn’t help herself. Taking in a deep breath, she pushed open the door and scanned. Way too neat for her taste. Not a stitch of clothing lined the floor. He had a few magazines on his nightstand, but even those were organized.

She glanced around the room and had to admire his taste as she ran her hand across his hunter green bedspread. The walls were a lighter green and the curtains were blue and green with some khaki folded in. She chuckled. Travis Brown was unique.

She picked up the latest fishing magazine. “Oh my.” She tossed that one aside and glanced at some French cooking magazine. “Fishing to cooking to…well.” She laughed, tossing the fishing magazine over his girlie mag, mildly amused.

A warm sensation filled her body. Just thinking about him sent her hormones into overdrive. In hopes of stifling her inappropriate reaction to her partner, she glanced at the ceiling. “Oh, God.” Pictures of girls stared down at her. “Good, God. Is that…oh shit, it is.”

Without a second thought, she climbed on his bed and glossed over her own picture, which was next to Marie’s and slightly separate from all the other girls she knew to be
his
victims. So many more than she’d found, but Travis had been doing this longer. Thank God he knew the real killer lurked behind a dark shadow.

“What are you doing?” Travis asked.

The bed didn’t hold her footing and she fell over, landing on her butt. She bounced.

“What are you doing?” he asked again.

He had the sheet from her bed wrapped around his waist and a gun in his hand. And his hair was…messed up, but still looked damned good. Not fair. She ran a hand through her hair, then squinted. “Care to explain?”

“Victims who I think were murdered and

raped by the same guy, but no one else does.” His tone was terse.

She shook her head. “Not that. Why were you in my bed?” She waved her arms, feeling her face flush. She tried to keep an angry look, but she really wanted to run her fingers through his thick dark hair.

In less than two paces, he stood in front of her, placed his gun on the nightstand, and continued to look at her. His intent unmistakably sexual. “You had a bad dream.”

“So? Everyone has them.”

“You screamed, I came running. I didn’t leave.” He shrugged.

“So much for being a gentleman.” She had to bite her tongue, when what she really wanted to do was laugh. So much about this man intrigued her, and not just professionally.

“I was a gentleman.” He inched closer. “I didn’t do anything but this.” His soft lips barely brushed against her temple. “But I wanted to do this.” Cupping her face, he pressed his mouth hotly against hers.

She inhaled sharply, then gripped his shoulders, feeling dizzy. She closed her eyes and glided her hands down his strong, bare chest. Clasping her fingers around his back, she welcomed his tongue in her mouth.

Abruptly, he pried his lips from hers, hands still cupping her face. “We can’t do this.” His voice sounded dark and low. “My job. Our jobs.” His hands dropped to his sides.

“You should have thought of that five minutes ago.” Shauna touched her lips. She’d never felt like this before. How could his kiss tell her that he would understand?

She sidestepped him and headed out of his room.

“Shauna? Your dream…who hurt you?”

“What?” She stopped at his door, but didn’t turn around.

“In your dream, you begged someone not to hurt you.”

She felt his breath on her neck before his hands gently touched her shoulders, turning her to face him.

Her eyes burned. What did he know? Or think he knew? She’d had bad dreams before, but they didn’t plague her. And she didn’t remember having one last night.

When she looked into his eyes, she knew she would never be able to directly lie to him. “I was raped as a teenager.”

“By who?”

“A stranger, and no, he was never caught.”

“Are you looking for him?” he asked, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Her stomach leaped into her throat. She swallowed and turned from him. “I never really saw his face, but he’s part of the reason I became an agent.” She paused, then turned. “He’s why I studied your sister’s case and some others. I wanted to understand him, but there is no understanding.” She forced back the tears that threatened to drip down her checks.

“What did he do to you?” His voice rang out full of anger and contempt.

“He raped me,” she answered truthfully.

“Trust me, murder would come easily to me if anyone tried to hurt you again.” He lowered his chin.

She believed him and that scared her. Even more so, that his words comforted her. No way should the idea of murder comfort her in any way. Yet there it was, and she felt safe. So safe, she wrapped her arms around his solid middle

and rested her head on his shoulder, nuzzling her lips against his neck. “I can’t change what happened, but I can move past it and live my life.”

“Are you sure this is living?”

“I’m helping other people like me. I call that living.”

“All right,” he said. “If you ever want to talk about it—”

“I’m fine, really. I’ve had therapy, and in many ways, this job is therapeutic.”

“Running my ass off is therapeutic. Want to join me?”

“Definitely.” On impulse, she flicked her fingers through his hair.

He grabbed her wrist, kissing her hand. “Watch it, sweetheart.” He winked. “You’re going to get me fired. Get out so I can change.” He shoved her out the door.

Fumbling with her laces, she couldn’t get the image of Travis wrapped in only a sheet out of her head. He had to be naked under that white cloth. That meant he had to have been just as naked when he slept next to her.

She should have been mad as hell, but she wasn’t. And she didn’t understand why. She stretched her back making a mental note that her first phone call of the day would be to the rental office. She had to know if she got that apartment down the street. She hoped Travis would feel that was close enough because right now, they were way too close.

****

By Friday, Travis couldn’t take much more. He had Shauna and her damn scent following him wherever he went. The fresh smell of violets filled his office, his bathroom and even his damn truck. Thank God they had been scheduled for court that afternoon. The sport coat helped hide the mounting pressure below his waist.

“You ready?” He stood behind his desk and barked at her. He didn’t mean to sound so demanding, but she’d climbed deep into his skin. And he had to work with her. Not going to be easy without ripping her clothes off.

“What crawled up your ass?” She gave him a pointed look.

“You don’t want me to elaborate here.” He turned toward the door.

Steve leaned against the doorjamb, looking at his fingernails. “Trouble in paradise?” He gave Travis a smug grin.

“What’s up?” Travis moved to stand in front of him. Steve was a moron and a jerk. Not to mention crude and insulting and should never be trusted with a lady.
Get a grip.
Travis mentally shook himself.

“Heard over the radio they found a teenage girl in Washington Park.” Travis caught a hint of sorrow in Steve’s eyes. “Looks like your man.” He squeezed Travis’s shoulder.

Travis glanced at the hand on his shoulder, blinked, and then looked at Shauna. She stood, but fear lurked behind her eyes.

“Brown. Morgan,” Scott called as he maneuvered his way around Steve. “I need you two in Washington Park. Steve, you cover for Travis in court.”

“Sure.” Steve glanced at Shauna. “It’s ugly out there. No place for a woman.”

“I am an FBI Agent,” she said confidently.

Travis had to stand back when he really wanted to deck the ignorant ass. “What happened?”

“They actually think it’s the Princess Killer, even though there’s no dress or crown.”

“Then how are the police linking it to our guy?” Shauna asked.

“A note.”

“I take it we’re on the case,” she asked.

“You’re there as part of the Joint Task Force. You let the police do their job. Give them what we have, officially. Later, I’ll look at what you’ve dug up. I take it you didn’t listen to me and brought her in on this anyway.”

Travis looked from Shauna to Scott and smiled. “I figured. Go. Then go home. It’s late. Bring what you have in on Monday morning.” ****

Travis reflected on the crime scene during the drive home. It didn’t have much, except the note. The note disturbed him. The first part had been identical to the last one, except it added a line that said, ‘Not everyone is who they say they are. Some of us are living a lie.’

But who was the killer talking about? The killer himself? Or someone else?