Constant Risk (The Risk Series: Bree & Tanner Book 3)

by Janie Crouch

  “Even more reason to move in now.” Penelope turned to the uniformed officer who had followed them from the house. “Kelly, you stay here. Keep an eye on Bree and make sure our perp doesn’t get away if he comes running out the front door.”

  Young officer Kelly nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Penelope looked over at Tanner and he gave her a nod. Knowing someone had Bree’s back freed him up to go inside.

  Penelope turned to them. “Okay, people, we’re going in there blind, so be careful. Leon and I will take the front door. Whit, you and Tanner take the back.”

  They didn’t waste any time. Tanner and Whitaker made their way around the back of the building, opening a rusty door as quietly as possible. As soon as they were inside, they realized there hadn’t really been any need to be quiet. Someone was screaming their head off so loudly, hearing anything was damn near impossible.

  “Please! The water! Please, he turned it up!”

  Tanner and Whitaker both darted in the direction of the voice. They both knew it could be a trap, but they weren’t going to leave a woman to die.

  Thankfully she kept screaming, leading them deeper into the warehouse, where four walls had been set up to give the appearance of a small room. There wasn’t even a proper door.

  This was where the footage had come from.

  As Tanner and Whitaker stormed inside the facade, the woman let out a terrified shriek garbled by the water that was now about to cover her face. There was no sign of the killer anywhere, and nowhere he could hide.

  Tanner kneeled down and reached under the woman’s head to lift her farther out of the water.

  “There’s a man,” she said, struggling to get in air. “I—I—”

  Tanner nodded. “Shh. Just focus on breathing. We’ll catch the guy who put you in here.”

  Whitaker already had his phone out and on speaker. “Penelope, we’ve got the victim alive, but there’s no sign of the kidnapper.”

  “We just spotted him coming out of the Northwest corner of the building.” Penelope’s voice was labored, obviously running. “Stay with the victim. Leon and I will catch him. Backup is en route.”

  Whitaker turned to Tanner, taking in the situation. “Let me get the water turned off and find something for us to bail out some of it, before it covers her face.”

  They wouldn’t be able to get her out of her shackles until more specialized help arrived. All they could do was keep her alive until then. Whitaker shut off the hose that was raining down the water then found an empty cup. It wasn’t much, but now that water wasn’t filling the box, it was enough for them to keep the woman from drowning.

  They both tried to talk soothingly to her as they got out as much water as they could. Tanner didn’t recognize her as anyone famous, but he didn’t live around here. His best guess was that she was in her thirties. She had reddish-blond hair and, like Shelby and Kelly Quinn, was about five foot three and one hundred pounds.

  Tanner reached down into the water and grabbed the woman’s hand, both to offer comfort and to stop her from pulling at the restraints. “Hey, what’s your name?”

  “Jean Adams,” she finally managed to get out.

  “You’re doing so great, Jean, okay? We’re not going to leave you. Someone is going to be with you every second until they get you out of here, okay?”

  She nodded, her breathing already a little bit steadier.

  Tanner looked over at Whitaker and raised an eyebrow. Whitaker shook his head and shrugged. Evidently Jean Adams wasn’t a celebrity to him either.

  Whitaker continued to bail out water and Tanner held Jean’s hand, talking to her about almost-nonsensical things. He didn’t want to question her about anything important or difficult and cause her to get upset again. It wasn’t long before the other members of the Dallas PD were coming through the door.

  But nothing was as good as the text Whitaker got just a few minutes later from Penelope. He turned it around so Tanner could read it himself.

  Fleeing suspect apprehended and in custody.

  It was over.

  Chapter Ten

  Six hours after she’d fallen asleep in an exhausted heap in the car, Bree was about to fade into oblivion again. But this time it was because Tanner was currently standing behind her in the large hotel shower and was washing her hair.

  “You fading on me again, freckles?”

  “Can you blame me this time?” She couldn’t stop her little moan as he rubbed his fingers more deeply into her scalp.

  He reached down and kissed her shoulder. “I didn’t blame you last time. You needed it. We caught Elliot Webster because of you.”

  She shrugged. “It was a team effort. But yeah, mostly me.”

  He chuckled and kissed her shoulder again.

  “Do you think Jean is going to be okay?” she asked.

  Tanner pulled her back under the spray of the water. “Physically, yes. We got to her before any real damage could be done by the water. She’s at the hospital, mostly for observation.”

  “But emotionally?”

  He cupped his hand over her forehead so no soap would run into her eyes and tilted her head back. “It’s hard to know exactly what sort of emotional scars this leaves on a person. I daresay she might not take a bath for the rest of her life.”

  Bree wouldn’t blame her. “But she’s alive—that’s the most important thing.”

  “Absolutely. Always the most important thing.”

  They finished rinsing and stepped out of the shower.

  She peeked over at him as she dried off her face, trying not to stare at his abs. Was it ridiculous that she still couldn’t get enough of looking at his body even after all these months? She finally tore her eyes away. “Did Elliot Webster admit to killing Whitaker’s friend and the other lady?”

  Tanner dried off that sexy chest, then wrapped his towel low around his hips. “Not that I’ve heard. I’m sure Whitaker will keep us posted, but as far as I know, Elliot hasn’t talked at all.”

  “I guess that doesn’t serve his best interests to admit to multiple murders.”

  “Speaking of multiple murders, you going to be okay with the whole Jeter situation?” Tanner leaned back against the vanity counter and grabbed both edges of her towel, pulling her up against him.

  She sighed and leaned against him. “Honestly, I’m just trying not to think about it. I’m definitely relieved about not having to testify. And I had never really thought about his sentencing. But I don’t guess I can blame him for working out a deal where he can’t get the death penalty. And I can’t blame the prosecuting attorneys for wanting to get this over with as quickly and inexpensively as possible.”

  “But?”

  She shrugged. “I guess it just all seems too easy.”

  “Sometimes people take the easy way out when they don’t have better options.”

  “Yeah, I know. But I think maybe I mean it was too easy for me.”

  Tanner pulled her in closer to his chest and she breathed in the warm, wet, male scent of him. “Nothing about the situation with Jeter has ever been easy for you.”

  “Maybe it was that I had accepted that I was going to have to face him when I testify, even though I was scared. I was finally going to look him in the eye and make people understand what a monster he is, not only for the terrorist stuff he did, but for what he did to me. Although, I guess in the greater scheme of things that’s really not what’s important.”

  His fingers came up to comb gently through her wet hair. “He had all the power when you were a child. He did unspeakable things to you—you’ve got the physical and mental scars to prove it. It’s more than understandable to want to finally take some of that power back. To look him in the eye and make him know that he holds nothing over you now.”

  “Yes.” All that. Tanner understood. He always understood,
even when she didn’t.

  “I’m sorry you don’t get to have that. You deserve it.”

  “No. The important thing is that Jeter is going to jail for the rest of his life. He’s not going to have control over anything, especially me.” She squeezed him again, realizing how much she meant it.

  They walked into the bedroom together. Bree smothered a yawn. She didn’t want Tanner to think she was too tired to utilize the lovely-looking king-size bed here in the hotel. He got so overprotective when she did stuff like pass out from exhaustion.

  But at least he was watching her as she dropped the towel to the ground and slipped under the sheets naked. “So, I guess our part is done here since Elliot is in custody.”

  “Yeah, Penelope will take over now.”

  “Perfect Penelope.” Bree knew she was sulking, being ridiculous, but couldn’t help it. She didn’t even like to hear the woman’s name.

  Tanner climbed in bed beside her. “Not perfect, but I was pretty impressed with how she’s handled this entire investigation. It’s a lot of pressure and she seemed to manage her people pretty well.”

  “And she also happens to be blonde and gorgeous.”

  “Why, Miss Daniels, I do believe you sound a little bit jealous.”

  “What could there possibly be to be jealous of? The woman is smart, has a career in law enforcement, could be mistaken for a supermodel and is attracted to you.”

  Before she even knew what was happening, Bree found herself rolled over and tucked under Tanner’s big, naked body.

  “There’s only one person I’m interested in, and she very fortunately happens to be in this bed with me.”

  Bree’s eyes drifted closed, her breath hissing slowly out of her as his mouth found her neck and began nibbling down the side of it. This man had taught her everything she knew about pleasure. Everything she knew about trust. Everything she knew about love.

  “I’m sorry for what I said at the ranch.” Before they made love again she wanted to make sure the air was cleared from that. “I know I said something wrong and it hurt you. I’m sorry.”

  Tanner shifted his weight onto his elbows and looked down into her eyes. “We’ve got some stuff to work out, that’s for sure. Things we need to sit down and talk honestly about—plans. What we both want now, and what we both want going into the future.”

  “I want you.”

  That handsome face broke into a grin. “Good, because I want you too. And as long as were committed to each other—”

  “—and no blonde, gorgeous detectives—”

  He kissed her. “—that’s all that we need to know for sure right now.”

  “Then kiss me, Captain Hot Lips, and let’s not let this gorgeous hotel suite go to waste.”

  “Oh, I’m going to do a lot more than kiss you.”

  All she could do was hold on to him as he did.

  * * *

  A LOUD BANGING on the hotel door jerked Tanner completely awake. He immediately reached for his Glock on the bedside table, quickly getting his bearings.

  Bree rolled over in the bed, muttering, “Want to sleep.”

  The pounding on the door came again. Tanner slipped on his boxers and glanced at his phone. It was 4:30 a.m. He cursed when he saw he’d missed a dozen messages from Whitaker, since his phone had been on silent so Bree could get some sleep.

  Sure enough when he looked out the hotel door security hole, there was Whitaker.

  Tanner opened the door. “You do know it’s four thirty in the morning, right?”

  Whitaker didn’t crack a smile. “We need you and Bree back at the station right away. We’ve got a situation.”

  Tanner left the door open for Whitaker to enter and grabbed his jeans from the bathroom, slipping them on. “Are you sure she has to come with us? She’s still pretty wiped from yesterday.”

  Whitaker shook his head grimly. “Yes, unfortunately we need her more than we even need you. We just received more footage.”

  Shock shot through Tanner’s body. “What? I don’t understand. Could it have been previously recorded?”

  Whitaker shrugged. “It doesn’t look like it, but let’s hope so.”

  “Did Elliot Webster have a second victim somewhere? A partner?”

  “We’re trying to figure out exactly what is going on. Jeremy is still in the hospital because of his burns, and Penelope is hesitant to bring an unknown person into the case at this point. So Bree is the best option.”

  “What’s going on?” Bree said from the bed, sitting up and holding the sheet pulled up to her body.

  “I’ll wait outside.” Whitaker immediately turned and walked out the door.

  Tanner walked over to the bed. “We’ve got a problem, freckles. More footage arrived at the station. With Jeremy at the hospital they need you to authenticate it and let us know what is going on—whether it’s old or new.”

  She stretched like a sleepy kitten, then rubbed her eyes. He should’ve let her sleep last night instead of keeping them both awake half the night. But neither of them had seemed to be able to get enough of each other. It was like both of them wanted to resolidify whatever parts had become shaky over the last few days.

  And they had. Their bond was 100 percent secure. They still needed to work out the details about what their always was going to look like, but that was all it was: details. That ring was still in his jacket pocket. As soon as the time was right he was going to slip it on her finger.

  He tucked a strand of her brown hair behind her ear. “You go hop in the shower. I’ll get us some coffee. It’s time to go back to work.”

  Chapter Eleven

  There was a skeleton crew working at command central when they got there. Penelope gave them both a solemn nod. “Thank you for coming in again. We are a little bit shaken up by this footage and just want to know what we’re dealing with.”

  Bree sat down and pulled up the footage. Tanner hated to see the pinched look back in her eyes.

  None of them spoke as they watched twenty-four seconds of what looked to be Jean Adams back in that damned water coffin. She wasn’t talking, wasn’t crying, but did seem to be lying there muttering something. With the voice modulator it was impossible to make out her words.

  When the footage shut off, they all looked over at Bree.

  She shook her head, looking confused. “I need a few minutes to see what I can figure out.”

  Tanner squeezed her shoulder.

  “Do you mind playing it again, or will that disrupt what you’re doing?” Penelope asked her.

  “No, I’ll play it again.” Bree sat down to work as the footage came back up on the screen.

  “Okay,” Penelope said. “What can we see? Anything. Different, same.”

  “The water is higher,” Tanner said. “By at least a couple of inches from the last footage we received.”

  Everybody looked closer.

  “He’s right,” Whitaker said. “But the water is still dripping at the same rate. Not gushing down like it was when we found Jean.”

  Tanner rubbed his eyes, trying to make sense of this. The footage had to be from earlier in the day, prerecorded. They watched the footage again.

  “Did we ever figure out if Jean is someone we should know?” Tanner asked. “Why Elliot was using a voice modulator and not ever showing her face?”

  Penelope shook her head. “Nothing so far.”

  “You guys,” Bree called out. “I’ve got something.”

  As soon as Tanner saw her face—and the worry in those beautiful green eyes—he knew they were in trouble.

  “What?”

  Bree looked like she wasn’t going to be able to get the words out.

  “Just say it,” Penelope told her. “Any information is better than not knowing what’s in front of us at all.”

  Bree shook her he
ad. “There’s bad news, and worse news. This footage is definitely not on a loop. It wasn’t something Elliot prerecorded to send out later.”

  They all muttered curses.

  Bree turned to Penelope. “Did the crime lab dismantle the camera that had been used to record at the crime scene?”

  Penelope nodded. “Yes, in order to take it in as evidence it was removed from the wall. But there are plenty of pictures of exactly where it hung.”

  “So since there was going to be no more footage being sent, I assume you sent your computer team home.”

  Penelope nodded again. “Yes. They’d been working nearly forty-eight hours straight. It seemed pointless to keep them around when they had already done their part.”

  “I understand,” Bree said. But she didn’t look happy about it.

  “So what exactly is your worse news?” Penelope asked.

  Bree typed on her keyboard for a few seconds.

  “Nobody was here, but the program I uploaded that recorded all the screens captured everything we need. The program everyone was mad at.”

  Tanner could see Penelope was getting frustrated with Bree for not getting to the point quicker. Bree tended to think that everyone wanted all the details like she always wanted the details.

  “Just hit us with the bottom line, freckles.”

  Bree’s green eyes flew to his. “It’s been nine hours since you rescued Jean Adams. But at the top of each hour since then there’s been another clip that was broadcasted.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Penelope asked.

  “It means there’s another victim,” Bree said. “And her water is already past where Jean’s was.”

  Whitaker muttered a curse under his breath.

  Bree sat back down at the computer. “I’ve got to work. We don’t have a lot of time.”

  * * *

  TANNER MADE SURE Bree had a steaming cup of coffee next to her keyboard, then walked over to Whitaker and Penelope.