Intrigue Books 1-6

by Delores Fossen, Rachel Lee, Carol Ericson, Tyler Anne Snell, Rita Herron

  The feel of the cold granite kept the rage at bay. For now. Because Kate had been right. Declan wanted to go after him. The Hunter had started this battle, but Declan would bring the war. “I was there, Kate. Both times. That can’t be a coincidence.”

  “If the Hunter wanted you out of the way to get to me, why wait over a year to try again?” she asked. “Why target those four other women when he had so many opportunities to take me?”

  “Maybe he couldn’t get to you, even with me out of the picture.” Blackhawk Security watched their own and had an entire arsenal at their disposal. Their killer wouldn’t want that kind of attention or heat.

  Declan ran a hand through his hair, focusing on the bowl of milk and egg she’d left on the counter. “Or it’s like you said in your profile. He wants us to see his work, rub it in our faces that we haven’t stopped him before now. Punishing us.” Air rushed from his lungs as the realization hit. Damn it. He should’ve seen it before. He should’ve known. “Punishing you. Because he can’t bring himself to hurt you.”

  “You’re saying I’m the focus of his kills.” Color drained from her face, her rough exhale loud in his ears. Profilers didn’t catch killers. She gave the men and women who did the details to accomplish their task. Being the target of a psychopath had never been part of the job description.

  Kate straightened. “Those women are being hunted in the middle of the woods—dying with arrows through their hearts—because of me? Is that what you’re saying?”

  Declan wrapped his hands around her arms, careful of the bullet graze on one side. The lit Christmas lights deepened the shadows in her eyes, an opposite effect of the night before, and everything inside of him went cold. The Hunter had put those shadows there, and Declan would make damn sure he paid for it. “This is not your fault, Kate. Don’t you dare let him get to you this way. The shooting, those women’s deaths, what happened to me, none of it is on you.”

  “I know all that.” Her words cut through him. “But this killer... He’s not like anything I’ve encountered before, and he’s good at what he does. He’s gotten in my head, and I can’t get him out, okay?”

  Nothing but strength and determination showed in her expression, and damn if that wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. Kate Monroe had been through hell and back, but the locking of her jaw said she wouldn’t be playing the part of victim anytime soon.

  “You don’t have to worry about my guilt,” she said. “If anyone should be worried, it’s him. I’m not going to let him get away with this.” Kate collected a handful of paper towels and scooped the broken egg off the floor. Throwing it in the trash, she set back to work on the ingredients for their dinner. “He thinks he’s better at hunting than I am, but I’m going to show him he’s wrong.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “If we accept our theory that I’m his ultimate prey, then the killer thinks he knows me. But I think finding a connection between the women needs to be the priority,” Kate said.

  Because there had to be one beyond just a similarity to her looks. Kate might’ve been the Hunter’s ultimate target according to their theory, but she didn’t know any of the victims. As far as she could tell, she’d never met them before. Not working as a psychologist and not for Blackhawk Security. It was too easy to assume their killer had found them on the street. So how was the Hunter coming into contact with them?

  “However small,” she said. “It’ll tell us how he’s choosing his victims and help us stop the next abduction. You and I both know he isn’t finished. If anything, I believe he’s just getting started.”

  “You read my mind.” Declan spun the laptop toward her, the mess of French toast forgotten on the counter as four young faces stared back at her from the screen. “Brittney Sutherland, Holly Belcher, Carrie Fleming and Mary Lawson.”

  “Wait, why does that second name sound familiar?” Kate shifted closer to the screen as instinct flared. She’d read that name before and not in the files Dominic had given her when he’d brought her onto the case. It hadn’t clicked until now. “Holly Belcher.”

  “I thought the same thing when I brought up her file. Turns out her brother went missing last year. She was all over the news.” Declan scrolled through the digital file. “She and her mother were pleading with anyone who had information about his disappearance to call Anchorage PD over every news channel who’d give them air time.”

  A missing person case.

  “I can only imagine what that mother is going through right now,” Kate said. “First her son, then her daughter.”

  Losing Declan had been one thing. Losing two children within the span of a year? Kate swallowed as her throat swelled. Then again, she’d lost a child, too, hadn’t she? She hadn’t gotten to meet the tiny life that had been growing inside of her, but a life had been ripped from her all the same. Her gaze slid to Declan, across his shoulders, down his spine, and it took everything in her not to imagine what that life might look like today.

  “Did they ever find him?” she asked. “The son?”

  “No. No sign of him according to the FBI’s report. He was finally presumed dead a few months ago by the lead investigating agent.” Declan shook his head, leaning back on the bar stool as he crossed his arms over his muscled chest.

  Kate eased away from the screen. “Now his sister is a serial killer’s trophy.”

  Didn’t seem fair after everything the family had already been through. Her heart broke a fraction more as she straightened. But she could still get them justice. She could stop the Hunter from taking more women.

  “Michaels was a former patient,” Declan said. “There’s a chance the Hunter is, too.”

  “It’s possible, but even if we knew his identity, we won’t be able to get those files from their current doctors without a judge,” she said. “If we were granted a warrant, any leads we get from them won’t be usable in court. I’m not a practicing psychologist anymore, but doctor-patient confidentiality is still in effect.”

  The Hunter was one of the most complicated killers she’d studied. He was organized, intelligent and controlled. If he’d been seeing a psychologist, it would be impossible to pick him out of a stack of files due to his ability to blend in, to lie. To make everyone around him believe he was just like them.

  Kate rolled her bottom lip into her mouth and bit down to keep herself in the moment. There had to be something they could use. Every victim had unknowingly attracted the Hunter in some way, brought him into their lives.

  “What if he targeted Holly because of her media appearances?” she asked. “Were any of the other women in the spotlight? The more we learn about the victims, the more we’ll learn about their killer.”

  Declan’s fingers flew over the keyboard, the screen switching from the second victim to the first. The Hunter had started with Brittney Sutherland, as far as the authorities knew. She’d been the first victim recovered, but there was a chance there were others out there. “You’re not going to believe this.”

  “What?” Kate forced herself to look past the photo of the victim and read the FBI’s report. Her heart jerked in her chest as she read through the lead agent’s notes. “Is that...”

  “Another missing person report,” he said. “Only this is for the first victim’s mother.”

  “Two victims, both tied to separate missing persons cases?” That was too much of a coincidence. What were the chances two of the Hunter’s victims had loved ones missing within in the same time frame? “Check the others. Carrie Fleming and Mary Lawson.”

  The screen changed as he pulled the next two files. “Carrie was brought in for questioning when her best friend disappeared from a bar a few months ago, and Mary’s roommate went missing last week.”

  “That’s how he’s finding them.” She tapped the screen. Her arm brushed against Declan’s, and her entire body caught fire with adrenaline. They had a lead. “The cri
me scenes where each victim was left are too complex, too clean. I’d originally thought he was a true crime buff, maybe studied a bit of forensics, but this points to law enforcement. Someone in the FBI is targeting women who’ve been brought in for questioning during missing persons investigations. It’s the perfect cover.”

  “The FBI has dozens of agents assigned to their missing persons task force, Kate. We know the Hunter is local to Anchorage, knows the area and is a big-time hunter, but the Bureau won’t ever give us access to the personnel files without a warrant. Even then, by the time we get through the files, another woman could go missing.” Declan smoothed his hand over his wound. “I have your back, but we’ll have to come at this another way.”

  Heat worked through her. She had his back, too, and in that moment, she trusted him more than she’d ever trusted anyone since his death. Over the last year, she’d fought to keep her head above water, fought for her team, fought with everything she had not to dissolve into nothingness, but with him here, it was easier. There was a light at the end of the tunnel.

  “Our unsub had to be assigned to all four of our victims’ cases to come into contact with them, right? He didn’t choose these women at random. He got close to them during the investigations, probably talked with them a few times. Became familiar with their lives.” She blinked to clear the exhaustion from her head. They’d been running on fumes and fear for the last few days. Barely eaten more than marshmallows and chocolate. Barely slept. But she wouldn’t stop. Not until they identified the Hunter and brought his victims and their families justice. “Who was the lead agent?”

  Scanning the reports, Declan confirmed a commonality. “Special Agent Kenneth Winter headed all four missing persons cases, but these are career-making cases. A lot of agents and officers wanted in. The chief of police included. Wait. I’ve heard that name before.”

  Her stomach sank. “He’s Dominic’s partner.” The BAU’s newest agent had always been desperate to prove himself on the hardest cases. If he was responsible for these women’s deaths, what was harder than making it look like some other perpetrator had delivered the killing shot while taking credit for the collar in the end? Winter was over six feet tall, close to one hundred and ninety pounds. Had he been the one to toss her in that pit to die?

  Kate cleared her throat, shook her head to dislodge the memory. Like Declan said, these were career-making cases. Winter might be one name out of dozens all assigned to work missing persons cases. They’d have to dig deeper into each case.

  “Blackhawk Security has a contact in Anchorage PD. Maybe she can give us some insight into who might’ve taken a special interest in the women during the investigations.” Kate refocused on the dinner mess on the kitchen counter. Her body ached from tension, from being shot with an arrow, from the last four days. She grew heavy as a wave of dizziness took hold. “I’ll let Dominic know he might want to take a closer look at the missing persons cases.”

  And his partner.

  “Kate, you’re bottoming out.” Declan pushed away from the laptop and caged her against the cool countertop. “You need to get something other than sugar in you, shower and sleep for at least few hours. You’re no good to any of those women if you’re dead on your feet. I’ll fill Dominic in and finish up the mess here.”

  “Thank you.” She gripped the granite. He was right. Of course he was. If she didn’t take a step back now, the Hunter would only take advantage of her weakness. But the thought of stepping away—even after Dominic had ordered her to cut ties to the case, even for a few hours—pooled dread at the base of her spine.

  The Hunter had made this personal. He’d recruited Michaels to do his dirty work. Twice. He’d taken her husband’s memories, taken her unborn baby, taken everything that mattered. The killer was still out there, and he wouldn’t wait around for her to get herself together. He’d strike when she least expected it.

  “For everything,” she said. “Truth is, I feel better when I’m with you.” Not scared. Not weak. Kate framed Declan’s face with her uninjured hand, his five-o’clock shadow bristling against her palm. She didn’t have to hide from him. No secrets. No lies. No pretending. He’d pulled her from the darkness and out into the light, given her a second chance. He’d saved her, and she trusted him straight to her core. He would catch her long before she ever fell. She’d fight like hell to keep him at her side.

  “I’ve hunted at least a dozen monsters between my job at Blackhawk Security and consulting for the FBI, but this one...” Dropping her hand, she took a deep, cleansing breath and shook her head. “I’m glad you’re here. I wouldn’t want to work this case without you.”

  “Me, too. If for no other reason than having my own personal partner with benefits,” he said. “Pretty sure Dominic and I never had that kind of relationship.”

  Kate pressed her lower back into the counter. Was this a relationship? Sure, they’d slept together in that perfect little snow fort he’d built out back, but it had started simply as a way to stop the nightmares, to distract her from the harsh reality crashing down around them both. Only, being with Declan had become so much more. Hadn’t it?

  He leaned into her, his mouth mere centimeters from hers. His exhale brushed against the thin skin of her collarbone as he studied her from forehead to chin. Sliding his hand to her wrist, he traced the oversensitive veins running up her arm. “Now stop stalling and get in the shower. Because, angel, you smell awful.”

  A burst of laughter escaped her lips, and she tipped her head up toward the ceiling. “Trust me when I say this, I don’t smell as bad as you do.” Desire pushed through her as she grabbed his shirt collar and tugged him back toward the bedroom. “But it’s a good thing I have a solution for that.”

  * * *

  DAWN BROKE THROUGH the trees, but the feel of a new day hadn’t struck yet. With Kate asleep in his arms, it was easy to imagine the nightmares didn’t wait outside these walls. They could lie here, waste the day away in bed, surviving off nothing but each other’s body heat and whatever they could find in the pantry. But the world wouldn’t stop for them and neither would the Hunter.

  “I can almost see the wheels spinning in your head.” Her fingers smoothed between his eyebrows. Kate pulled the sheets around her, hiking her uninjured hand beneath her head. Mesmerizing green eyes followed the path of her fingers as she reached out to trace one of his scars. “Trying to figure out how to sneak out of here without waking me up again? It won’t work.”

  “Quite the opposite. I was devising a plan to convince you to stay in bed all day long.” Taking her chin between his thumb and first finger, he rolled into her. He needed to tell her the truth. He’d become the one person in this world she could rely on, and he intended to keep it that way. Hell, he was a jerk for keeping her in the dark this long.

  Her soft moan vibrated against him as she closed her eyes. “Wouldn’t take too much convincing, but since you’ve already gone through all that trouble, I’ll let you plead your case.”

  He pulled her flush against him with his arm. His mouth crashed onto hers, and Declan pushed everything he had into that kiss. The loneliness of waking up in that hospital room alone, the pain from the bullet wound in his side, the fear of losing her all over again. She shouldered it all and expected nothing in return. That was the kind of woman she was. Considerate, caring, honest.

  Everything he wasn’t.

  “I’m beginning to see your point, but I think I need to hear a bit more of your defense.” She smiled against his mouth, then skimmed her fingertips along his bottom lip. Setting her ear over his heart, she ran one hand through her hair. “It’s also time we got on the same page. I know I said after this investigation was over it’d be better if we go our separate ways, but a lot has happened since then.”

  Anxiety clawed through him. “Kate, wait—”

  “Please just let me finish before I lose my nerve.” Straightening, she placed
a hand over the gauze taped to her shoulder. “For the past year I’ve been lost. I’ve helped dozens of patients move past their trauma in my career, but for the longest time, I couldn’t take my own damn advice. When it came right down to it, we were together for so long, I’d forgotten how to be alone.”

  She shook her head. “I hated it. I was cold inside. I’d given up hope of ever finding another person who could make me feel the way you did. I threw myself into my work because helping my clients was the only thing that made me feel alive. Until you walked back into that house five days ago.”

  Kate hiked the sheets farther up her body. “When you kiss me, I see a light at the end of this dark, lonely tunnel I’ve been stuck inside. You’re the strongest, most selfless man I’ve ever known, and I don’t want to give that up. I don’t want to give you up.” She smoothed her hand over his chest. “I want you to stay. I want us to try to make sense of whatever’s happening between us. It won’t be easy, but I think it’ll be worth it.” She placed her hand over his sternum. “So that’s how I feel. Now you tell me how you feel.”

  Heat worked through him, and he fisted his hands in the sheets. Committing the past few minutes to memory, Declan filled his lungs with her sweet vanilla scent. He had to tell her the truth, pray she’d still want him despite the lie. And if she didn’t... His gut tightened. Things would have to go back to the way they were. He’d rebuild his life. Without her. “Kate, there’s something you need to know before we—”

  A soft ringing reached his ears, and she lowered her forehead onto his chest. Her hair tickled his overheated skin as she pushed away to reach for her phone on the nightstand. “Hold that thought.” Bringing it to her ear, she pegged him with a smile, and his blood pressure spiked. “Kate Monroe.”

  The smile disappeared, her gaze sinking into the sheets. Her tongue swiped across her bottom lip, and she pushed herself upright. She threw her legs over the side of the bed and positioned the phone between her neck and shoulder as she reached for her discarded clothing on the floor. “When?”