Ruthless (29 page)

He had certainly climbed his way to the top, and he’d done so based on an outstanding job, not whom he knew. Daniel Burnett was the real thing. A genuinely good man.

Something else she remembered about running into
him on Christmas Eve ten years ago—they’d ended up back at his place having mind-blowing sex. God, she must have been out of her mind. Actually she’d been celebrating a much anticipated promotion. Dan wasn’t so much celebrating as he appeared to be grateful and relieved to have his second divorce behind him.

He’d also been sporting much longer hair and two weeks’ beard growth. She almost hadn’t recognized him when she bumped into him that evening at Publix. He’d laughed and told her that he was playing Joseph in a big church production his mother was coordinating. Jess had gotten a good laugh out of that as well.

Dear old Katherine. She’d always had her son wrapped around her little finger.

Jess’s hand went to her belly. Good Lord, the thought of that woman being the grandmother to her children was terrifying.

Stop, Jess.
No borrowing trouble… yet.

There was a little girl out there who needed her. And all those parents who just wanted to bring their little children home for a proper burial. Damn the Man in the Moon.

Damn you, Fergus Cagle.

Moving along the fringes of the audience, she scanned the crowd. Harper was right next to her doing the same. She doubted Cagle would show up here, but it wasn’t unheard of.

Deputy Chief Black stepped to the podium and gave an update on the search for the three women in the photos Spears had sent. Jess noticed that he didn’t mention their names or anything about the bait Spears had used to lure them to wherever the hell he wanted them. Black relayed
only that two had been identified and that every effort was being made to identify the third young woman.

Reporters fired questions at both Dan and Black about Cagle and the missing Higginbotham child. The Man in the Moon case was uppermost on their minds. It hit squarely home, and everyone wanted it solved.

Jess had him. Sierra Campbell’s blanket could be connected to the box of Christmas decorations. To top it off, they had that playroom in the basement… all those little girls had left their names and drawings on the walls. Sick bastard.

She had him all right, and she was going to get him, preferably alive.

The families of the rest of his victims deserved to know where their children were.

Jess tried to get a deep breath, but the crush of the crowd was getting a little uncomfortable. She didn’t usually feel claustrophobic, but today it was getting to her. She leaned toward Harper. “Let’s move away from the crowd to some place with a better view.”

He gave her a nod and started cutting a path. She followed close behind him. Someone tapped her on the left shoulder. She twisted to see who had touched her and she came face-to-face with the dark-haired man and his snazzy sunglasses.

She reached into her bag for her weapon.

He pivoted and made his own path through the crowd.

Jess went after him, her hand jammed into her bag, fingers around the Glock.

Keeping up with him was impossible, but she kept his head and shoulders in view. She wanted to call out to him, order him to stop, but she couldn’t draw attention or her weapon in this crowd.

Harper moved up beside her. “Where are you going?” he called out above the applause that had started.

“It’s him—the dark-haired man. Navy suit jacket. Dark glasses. Up ahead.” As if he’d known she was talking about him, he glanced back.

Harper spotted him and started slicing through the crowd. Jess slowed down, had to catch her breath.

“Keep going,” she muttered. Dredging up a second wind, she burst forward again. She didn’t want the guy to get away this time. She cut around to the left in hopes of intersecting with what appeared to be his destination. Harper was closing in on him.

A body slammed hard into her.

She cried out… went down on her hands and knees.

Her bag hit the ground, the contents scattering.

Hands and knees stinging, she shoved her Glock back into her bag and gathered her things, muttering one blistering curse after the other.

A hand grasped her elbow and helped her to her feet. She turned to thank whoever had decided to be a gentleman but he was already walking away, moving effortlessly through the mob of bodies. The back of his blond head was all she could see…

… and still she somehow knew.

No.

The world seemed to lapse into slow motion as the blond man stopped. He looked back over his shoulder as if he’d felt her watching him.

He smiled and the ground beneath her feet shifted.

Spears.

She grabbed her bag, jammed her hand inside for her weapon.

But he was gone.

“Are you all right, Chief?”

Jess turned to face her detective.

“I looked back and didn’t see you.” Harper shrugged. “I had to come back for you.”

Which meant the dark-haired man had gotten away, just as Spears had gotten away.

She blinked once, twice, struggling to wrap her brain around what just happened. “I think I need to sit down, Sergeant.”

He grabbed her when she would have hit the ground. “Come on, Chief, let’s get you out of this heat.”

Dunbrooke Drive, 9:20 p.m.

Jess was neck deep in hot water and it felt amazing.

It wasn’t her tub, it was Dan’s. He’d insisted she come home with him and the fact of the matter was she didn’t want to be alone tonight any more than she had last night. Maybe she never wanted to be alone again.

Spears had gotten that close to her.

He’d touched her just like he had when she’d interviewed him. Back when she was still Special Agent Jess Harris.

What the hell was he trying to prove? In a park filled with cops and reporters at a press conference?

More important, why hadn’t he done what she would have expected him to do?

He could have killed her.

Jess’s body trembled in spite of the delicious heat of the water. Eric Spears could have plunged a knife deep into her back or used a hypodermic needle filled with the drug
ketamine, which he used on all his victims. He could have shot her with a silenced weapon during one of the many outbursts of applause. He could have taken her with him by force.

But he hadn’t done any of those things. Instead, he’d helped her to her feet and he’d walked away unnoticed, but he’d wanted her to know it was him.

Mostly, she suspected, so she would punish herself for not going after him or shooting him. She wouldn’t have been able to catch him even if she hadn’t gone into shock.

She’d frozen.

Eric Spears was here.

Why?

If the Bureau was right and he already had at least two of those women in his lair, why was he here? He never took a victim and then ignored her. Could those women be here with him?

She closed her eyes and tried to block him out. She’d beaten herself up for not shooting him in the back as he walked away or screaming for him to stop so other cops could have done something. But the risk that Spears might have started shooting into the crowd had been too great. His friend the dark-haired man had been in that crowd, too. God knows what he would have done.

There was nothing she could have done… and for now, she couldn’t let him distract her.

Right now, her job was to focus on finding Cagle and that little girl.

Cook was unsuccessful in his search for the daughter. He swore he was going to work on it all night if he had to. But he was young, and Jess doubted he would make it past his first invitation to hit a club. It was Friday night.

Since Cagle had basically vanished and his coworkers,
Kennamer and Gifford, confirmed Ruthie Jeffreys’s assertion that Cagle was intensely private, Jess’s only hope for getting a lead on his whereabouts was finding his daughter. With his face plastered everywhere it was possible someone would spot him and call it in, but that wasn’t something Jess intended to wait for.

Apparently his daughter didn’t live in the area or she would surely have seen her father’s face on the news and called. Unless she couldn’t call.

A soft rap on the door came before, “You doing okay in there?”

Dan had been understandably irate when he learned that both the dark-haired man, who remained unidentified, and Spears had been in this evening’s crowd. He’d been even more irritated that Jess had gone after the dark-haired man in the first place and that Harper had left her side to go after him as well.

And no sign of Cagle.

“You still alive?”

Jess cleared her throat. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“I thought you might like a glass of wine.”

Jess tensed, that pounding started in her chest. Still no period. A responsible person would avoid alcohol just in case. She did a mental harrumph. A responsible person wouldn’t be in this predicament.

“No thanks. I need a clear head to ponder this case some more tonight.”

“Dinner’s ready whenever you are.”

“Thanks.” Eating had been the last thing on their minds when the press conference ended. By the time they’d gotten here she’d just wanted a bath. Her lips lifted into a weary smile. Leave it to Dan to take care of her.

Her heart rate slowed to a more normal pace. Most likely because the mention of dinner had her stomach rumbling. She washed her hair and scrubbed her body. The idea of Spears touching her creeped her out. Once she was out of the tub and had dried off, she surveyed her reflection. Blow-drying was too labor intensive and she was just too tired. She towel-dried her hair and left it at that.

Her knees were skinned but good. The heels of her hands not so much.

She stared at her nude body in the big mirror. What the hell would she do if her period never came? Eventually she’d have to go to the doctor.

Anyone but Collins. He was far too judgmental and narrow-minded when it came to the needs of women.

The smart thing would be to pick up a test and just get it over with. As soon as she found Janey Higginbotham she would do that. Then all this wondering and worrying would be behind her.

With Dan’s robe cinched around her, she opened the bathroom door and followed the wonderful smells to the kitchen. Whatever he had prepared, had delivered, or poured out of a can had her mouth watering.

“Wow,” she said, as she entered his kitchen, “smells good.”

“This is a test.”

He placed a plate in front of her. On the plate was a bed of noodles with some kind of gravy like sauce and meat chunks, maybe beef. Asparagus spears were piled next to it.

“You said I never use my kitchen and you were more right than I wanted to admit. I decided to do something
about that. From now on, I plan on preparing dinner at home for the two of us as often as possible.”

Jess bit her lip and wondered if he’d mind making it for three a whole lot sooner than maybe even he had anticipated. She swallowed at the massive lump in her throat. “You cooked this…?” she ventured, her voice a little high-pitched. “From scratch? No boxes? No cans? No lessons from Gina?”

“I did.”

Oh Lord.

“Try it.” He was like a kid about to get his first star from his favorite teacher.

“I’m not eating unless you’re eating.” Good move. If it tasted terrible she’d see it on his face.

He grumbled something unintelligible as he prepared his own plate. She patted the stool next to her.

When he’d settled there, she picked up her fork. “Bon appetit.” But then she waited until he stuck a forkful in his mouth. He chewed, made a pleasant little sound. Well, all right then. She took a big bite. The sauce or gravy was really quite tasty. The meat—beef—was a little chewy. The noodles were not overcooked, and the asparagus was still the tiniest bit crisp and lightly seasoned.

“It’s good,” she said between chews.

The relief on his face was priceless.

That face was reason enough to eat every single bite even if it killed her.

She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she dug in. She finished off the plate and had to resist licking it clean. A yawn escaped her before she could stop it. “Sorry. I’m just exhausted. I may call it a night and do my pondering with my eyes closed.”

She did some of her best analysis with her eyes closed.
Somehow the details that often hid from her came to the surface in that place between asleep and awake.

“You should let me take care of those scratches first.”

“Just show me where the Band-Aids and the Neosporin are and I can handle it.” It wasn’t that she didn’t want him to touch her… she did. She wanted way more than that, but she didn’t trust herself not to tell him she might be pregnant. She’d almost told him last night and the night before that. The rules had gone out the window this week.

Guilt pricked her, but if she told him he’d only worry and hover some more. He did too much of that already. She needed to stay on top of this case, and arguing with him about whether it was safe or not was just a distraction she didn’t need.