by Cynthia Eden
“He’s done it now,” Cedric murmured. He was almost rubbing his hands together.
“He named the killer. He gave him a moniker. What a wanker.” Chloe squared her shoulders. Then she spun and marched right up to the podium.
“Uh, is she supposed to do that?” Joel asked as he sidled close to Cedric.
“I don’t think Chloe ever does what she is supposed to do. One of many reasons Agent Richardson hates her.”
“I am not in law enforcement,” Chloe’s clipped voice rang out, “but I have a PhD in psychology. Dual master’s degrees in both forensic psychology and abnormal psychology…”
“She’s just flexing,” Cedric explained as his head angled toward Joel. “Because Richardson bugged her with something he said. Don’t know exactly what set her off, but she’s about to tear him a new one.”
“I brought down the Sunshine State Strangler.” Chloe’s shoulders were straight. Her chin up.
The who now? Who’d she brought down? Wait, wait…Sunshine State Strangler. That was kinda familiar. The moniker clicked for Joel. Sunshine State—that had been the killer who’d been strangling college co-eds down in Florida a few months back.
“I’m the one who told police officers what he would look like, the type of apartment he would live in, and that he would even walk with a limp on his right side. And when that wasn’t enough…” Her narrowed gaze swung to Agent Richardson… “When Agent Richardson here insisted on going by his ridiculous assumption that the man was a college professor, I’m the one who gift wrapped the perp when I set myself up as bait and lured him in.”
“What the hell did she do?” Joel’s breath froze in his chest. “Tell me that she did not say she became bait.”
“Oh, yes, she did. That’s Chloe.” Cedric’s words were grim. “Are you starting to see why I told you to run from her? Getting the full picture now? Wishing you’d listened?”
He wasn’t running. He was watching. She waved toward the officers. “You all listened really well while Richardson was giving his spiel, and that’s wonderful. But before you go searching for this perp, you need to know that his profile is flawed. Not the first time, not the last. He keeps making mistakes.”
Richardson’s face had gone back to being extra mottled. “You have no authority to—”
“You know me,” Chloe said to the cops. “Have I led you astray before?”
“Not even once,” Cedric responded. His voice was clear and certain.
Richardson fired him a dirty glare.
“Sorry,” Cedric didn’t sound the least bit sorry. “Thought she was waiting for a response. Don’t like to leave a lady waiting. My mama raised me better than that.”
Richardson turned off the screen. “If I’m so wrong, tell me what I’m missing.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Educate us all!”
Chloe’s gaze darted around the room. Lingered on Joel. She swallowed.
“That’s what I thought,” Richardson continued. Smug. So very smug. “You don’t have anything to add so how about you let me take over from—”
“It’s not about what the men—the victims—did now. It’s about what they did before. You neglected to mention that the victims knew each other. That they all shared a connection in the past.”
A furrow appeared between Richardson’s brows. “What the hell are you—”
“May I have the remote?” She didn’t wait for him to reply. She just took it. A few moments later, she had Ray Malone’s picture up on the screen. “Ignore the bloody mess that is his body,” she informed the assembled men and women. Her accent thickened just a little. “Instead, focus on the ring finger on his right hand.”
Joel squinted at it.
“That’s a state championship ring. A football ring. Focus on it. Think about it. And now…” She pulled up the image of Gregory Guidry. “Guidry was also big guy, yes, Richardson had that part right. He was big guy who once played high school football and took his team all the way to a championship ring. Go Pirates.” She clicked the remote a few times. Got to the shot of Gregory’s Guidry’s wife. “As you can see, Gregory had the same ring.”
“Uh, ma’am?” One of the cops raised his hand. “I don’t see that.”
“Where are we supposed to see that?” Another officer stood up and peered at the picture. He even shuffled closer to get a better view
Chloe walked to the screen. Tapped her finger against the woman’s bruised cheek. “Do you see the design there? The raised pattern? When Gregory punched his wife, he was wearing his championship ring.”
“Holy fuck,” Joel breathed. Now that she was tracing her finger over the spot on Michelle Guidry’s cheek, he could see it, too.
“A little emblem on the top. A V for Victory. Pretty distinct.” She stepped away from the screen. “If you dig into Donnie’s past, you’ll see that he played on that same team.”
Silence.
Chloe cocked her head toward Richardson. “Though, honestly, it would have been helpful to look up their pasts before you did this big profile reveal. How long does it really take to see if they all went to the same high school? I’m sure you could figure that out with a few clicks on a keyboard.”
He looked away.
“Ah.” Chloe nodded. “You already knew they went to the same high school. But somehow, that wasn’t important enough to note? What about being on the same football team? Did you know about that, too?”
“No,” he gritted out. “I didn’t.”
“Now you do,” Cedric drawled. “Good thing Chloe was here, huh?”
Joel was worried that Agent Richardson might be choking. It was not healthy to be that particular shade of red. He should probably see a doctor. One who gave a fuck.
That wouldn’t be me.
“Maybe this isn’t so much about a killer punishing them for bad deeds,” Chloe continued as she paced back toward Joel. “Maybe it’s about something that happened a long time ago. I do think our perp is patient. But the way he is killing, the way he is torturing those men? I don’t think that has anything to do with justice.”
Silence followed in her wake.
Over her shoulder, Joel saw Richardson glaring at her. He stiffened because the man was staring at her with hate plain to see in his eyes and on his face.
Not exactly what he’d expected from an FBI agent.
“This has turned out to be semi-informative for me.” Chloe gave Joel a faint smile. “But it is time to go now.” Her attention shifted to Cedric as her heels clicked across the floor. “We’ll touch base again later?”
“Damn straight. I’ve got some leads I want to run down. Talk soon.” His fingers brushed over her arm.
The meeting was breaking up. Cops dispersing. Chloe didn’t glance back at Richardson as she walked with Joel out the front doors of the station. It was freaking hot outside. No big surprise that the city was sweltering in October, and his motorcycle waited near the sidewalk. Chloe had seemed quite thrilled to ride on the bike with him when they’d traveled to the station.
She reached for a helmet.
He snagged her wrist. “You enjoy pissing off federal agents?”
Her pulse jerked beneath his touch.
His brows rose. “Chloe?”
She tugged her hand free. “I need to get used to that.”
Used to what?
“And, no, I don’t enjoy pissing off all federal agents. Just annoyingly pompous, wrong agents who seem to be missing major points in an investigation.” She stared expectantly at him.
He realized he was fighting a smile again. How did she do that? Joel didn’t think she was even being funny. Not at all. But she made him want to—
“Chloe.” A low, rough snarl. “You are not going to screw me over again!”
Joel whirled. He saw Richardson barreling toward Chloe. The agent’s rage was even more obvious now.
“You get off on trying to make me look bad in front of those cops? You think it’s one of your games?” Richardson’s hands f
lew toward Chloe as—
Joel stepped into his path. “No. Nope. Not happening.”
Richardson’s hands hung in the air.
“You’re not touching her. You’re not putting your hands on any part of her body. Got it?” Joel made sure he was blocking Chloe with his body. “I’m pretty sure this is not how a federal agent is supposed to act, so get your shit under control, buddy.”
“Thank you, Joel,” Chloe said, rather demurely, odd for her, “some people just have no self-control.”
“Chloe.” Richardson seemed to nearly choke on her name. “You think I didn’t put it together? You think I don’t know who this SOB is?”
“I can see why Chloe doesn’t like you.” Joel nodded. “I’m pretty sure you got my name earlier, so obviously, she thought you knew who I was. We all thought that. Since she told it to you.”
Richardson’s chin angled into the air. “You’re a killer.”
For a moment, Joel couldn’t breathe.
Chloe immediately moved to Joel’s side. “He’s a survivor.”
“Tell that to the man he beat to death.”
Joel’s hands fisted. “If you know he’s dead, then you know what he did to me. You know—”
Her fingers wrapped around his right fist. “Richardson understands just enough about psychology to be a true tosser. Don’t let him get under your skin. Joel, Joel, would you look at me?”
His head jerked toward her.
“He’s not worth your time. We have a case to solve.”
“My case,” Richardson fumed. “You need to stay away—”
“Sorry. The chief wants my help, so it’s help I will give him. I mean, we will give him,” Chloe corrected smoothly as she never broke eye contact with Joel. “Joel is my partner, so he’ll be working with me every step of the way.” Her fingers were still wrapped around Joel’s.
And…her touch was calming him. As was her gaze. Her bright gaze held no judgment. No censure. He could look into her eyes and almost forget everything else.
Except, what in the hell was a tosser?
“Another mistake,” Richardson warned her. “I figured you would have learned from your past. But I guess certain women just have a type, don’t they?”
Chloe tugged Joel toward the motorcycle.
Richardson’s footsteps stomped away.
“That man is a prick.” Chloe sounded both dismissive and annoyed. “Don’t take anything that he says to heart. And, absolutely, under no circumstances, are you ever to let what he says get into your head, either.” She was still touching him.
He was still liking her touch way too much.
“Joel?” Her head tilted. “He’s wrong about you.”
“An FBI profiler just called me a killer.” His voice was rough. Hard. “And I wanted to punch him.” He had been able to imagine driving his fist into Richardson’s face far too easily. Over and over.
Because I am a killer. Because he was right about me.
Joel looked down at their hands. Her fingers were so small and delicate. While his…
Once upon a time, I used my hands to save people.
Until he’d used his hands to kill a man.
“This is a mistake.” He pulled away from her. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I should…no, you should stay away from me.” He jumped onto the motorcycle. “I’m not some crime solver. I don’t have any business being here.” His fingers curled around the handlebars. “What was I thinking? This can’t happen. You aren’t safe with me. No one is safe. You are—”
She climbed onto the back of the motorcycle. Curled her hands around him. “I have my helmet on. I’m quite safe. I put it on while you were having your pity party.”
“What?”
“Pity party. Don’t you know what that means? If not, it’s when a person is just reveling in—”
His head snapped toward her. “I know what a pity party is.”
She smiled. And looked…fucking adorable in that helmet. He shook his head.
“Would you like for me to drive?” Chloe asked him. “I’m quite good on a motorcycle.”
“Of course, you are. Because I’m starting to think you’re some kind of secret ninja who is good at all sorts of things.”
“Ninjas aren’t good at all—”
He faced forward. Got the engine revving. “I’m trying to tell you…you aren’t safe with me.”
Her hold tightened on him. “Don’t be ridiculous. I think I’m at my safest when I am with you. After all, you’re the one with the hero complex. It makes you keep jumping in front of me at the slightest threat. You should probably stop doing that.”
He didn’t pull into the road, not yet. “I’m a killer.” His words were low. Maybe he wanted them to be drowned out by the revving of the motorcycle. Maybe then it could be like he hadn’t—
She laughed. As if he’d made a joke.
“I’m not kidding you,” he fired back.
“Anyone can kill, under the right circumstances. Your circumstances were—they were very unusual. I don’t feel threatened by you at all. Quite the opposite.”
His circumstances, huh? “You know so much about me.” Hardly seemed fair. “But I know nothing about you.” The revving quieted a bit.
“Oh. Would it make you feel better if I told you that I’d killed a man, too?”
“That is not the shit that I was—”
“Because I have.”
His whole body tensed.
“I guess that means we’re both killers. Now, if you don’t mind, we need to get to the coroner’s office. I’d rather not run into Richardson while we are there, and I’m sure he’ll be heading that way very soon.”
I guess that means we’re both killers.
He steered the motorcycle onto the road.
Chapter Eight
He’d been quiet during the entire drive. Not that it had been an overly long drive from the police station to the coroner’s office but…still. Chloe had expected more.
When he pulled into the parking spot and killed the engine, Chloe didn’t linger behind Joel. Mostly because she’d discovered that she rather enjoyed touching him too much. The motorcycle had vibrated between her legs, and he’d driven fast and hard to their destination. She’d found herself hugging him a little too tightly. Leaning against him a little too closely.
Getting turned on…a little too much.
An unexpected development. When she’d decided to bring him on as her partner, she’d certainly never anticipated that she’d want things to get physical, so quickly. Though, perhaps, that was her fault. She’d been aware of the attraction when they’d been pushed against each other in the tiny storage closet back at the bank. She’d attributed most of her response to adrenaline when it probably was due to—
“What are you thinking, Chloe?” Joel asked. He’d taken the helmet from her hands. Hooked it to the motorcycle. He climbed off the bike, kept his hands loose at his sides, and studied her with raised brows. “Because I can practically see the thoughts spinning through your mind.”
“I’m thinking that our attraction was probably originally due to the adrenaline rush that we felt when Harry pushed us into that little closet. We were forced into close proximity, and close proximity can lead to increased physical awareness. There is no current adrenaline rush, though, and I’m not physically touching you at this moment, yet I still feel the attraction. You are an extremely handsome, fit man, so it’s only natural to—”
His mouth had fallen open. He quickly snapped it closed. “Shit, I thought you were thinking about the case.”
“The case? What about it?” They hadn’t gone inside the coroner’s office. She didn’t have new information to ponder.
Joel dragged a hand over his face. “I cannot figure you out.”
“Good. That means you’ll never be bored by me. And, so far, you are most certainly not boring me.”
His hand dropped. “You want me.”
Hadn’t she just said as much? “I
t won’t get in the way of our partnership, don’t worry about that. I have outstanding self-control.”
“I just bet you do,” he muttered.
That hadn’t sounded like a compliment. “You want me, too. There’s really no point in acting all shocked and maidenly.”
His eyes widened. Then turned to slits. “Did you just call me maidenly?”
Her hand gestured toward his lower body. “You have this physical reaction to me. I notice—”
He spun away from her. “Fuck. Chloe, you’re not supposed to point out a man’s hard-on.”
Yes, she knew that. But he was oddly cute when he was flustered so she’d been messing with him. “You’re not doing anything about the attraction either. I thought it might be best for us to simply put things out there. This way, you won’t be uncomfortable when you have a physical reaction to me again.”
He swore. He had some truly inventive curses. She waited for him to get it all out and then Chloe delicately cleared her throat. “You didn’t ask me.”
He swung back toward her. “Ask you what?”
“Who I killed? Don’t you want to know?”
“You haven’t killed anyone.”
“You certainly sound confident about that fact.”
“You look like a strong wind would blow you over.”
“To be fair, a hurricane force wind would knock anyone down.”
He stared at her.
She stared back. Chatting with him this way was quite fun.
“Your brother,” he rumbled.
Now you’re on the right track. “What about him?”
“He wanted me to be your bodyguard.”
Technically, she’d been the one to send Reese with that offer. Her lips parted—
“No, correction, you sent him.”
Good of him to remember.
“That means you wanted protection. That means you were afraid of someone or something. If you were a cold-blooded killer, I doubt you’d want a bodyguard. You’d just go after the threat yourself.”
She crept nearer to him. Saw the flare of his nostrils and the slight widening of his pupils. He likes it when I’m close. Only fair. Chloe had discovered that she rather enjoyed being close to him, too. “What makes you assume that every killer is cold-blooded?”