I walked close to the screen. A man with a black jacket walked inside the back of the inn. He had the hood on his head and gloves on his hands. He rushed up the staircase, stopped at my door, knocked on it several times, dropped the sheet of paper, and walked away.
“He knew where all the cameras were.” Alexander got to my side. “He was prepared. Who would know where the cameras are?”
Horrified, Cory shook his head in disbelief. “T-the staff. . .maybe the. . .maintenance. I’m not sure. Do you think we are all in danger?”
On the footage, the man snuck back out the inn, but this time through the front. No one said anything or stopped him. There was no reason too. It was a peaceful quiet evening, and he’d offered no problems.
I turned to Alexander. “What should we do?”
“Get the police involved.” He turned to the manager. “Do you have cameras in the parking lot?”
Cory nodded. “Yes, but it’s close to the inn.”
“See if you can get the car’s make and model. The license plate. Anything. I’ll send some agents down to go over the footage with you.”
“No problem, sir.” Cory went through a back door in his office
Alexander gestured for us to leave.
I can’t believe the Angel Maker came to my door. You asshole. You think you can scare me away? You can’t.
“What do we do now?” I asked.
“Let’s get your stuff from the room and move it into mine.”
I parted my lips, but no words came out.
He smiled. “You’re still not comfortable with the idea?”
“No.”
“Trust me. I’m a good roommate.” He went for the stairs. “I would put you in another agent’s room, but I don’t think anyone will protect you as good as me.”
I grinned.
“You think that’s funny?”
“No. I’m grateful,” I admitted. “And. . .”
“Yes?”
“Shocked and scared.”
“That makes sense. You’ve watched someone die in front of you tonight. Now, as we try to find a serial killer, he has apparently found you. You’re going to be mentally out of it a little.”
“At least you’ll be around to provide more hugs.”
“Yes. Indeed.”
We climbed the stairs.
I went back to my room. Alexander walked through the space, probably checking to make sure no one had entered. I packed my stuff up. He called and woke up Stein updating him on everything. When I finished Stein passed the door and headed downstairs.
I turned back to Alexander. “Is Brett going to check on the cameras?”
“Yes.” Alexander grabbed one of my suitcases and handed me his gun. “For now, I only trust a few people on this.”
I tried to get my suitcase. “Thank you, but I can take my bags.”
“Not on my watch.” He took the other one from my hand and left the room. “You can hold my gun.”
“Oh, can I?”
“Be happy, Agent Barron. I never let anyone hold my gun.”
Shaking my head, I turned off the lights, shut the door, and locked it.
This is going to be a long week. We have to find this psycho.
Alexander carried my bags to his room, put them down, and unlocked the door. “Luckily, I’ve been keeping this place clean. I had no idea I would have an unexpected guest.”
I walked in after him as he brought my luggage inside.
“You can take up as much space as you need to be comfortable.” He grabbed a pillow from the bed, went to the closet, and pulled out a blanket. “Do you snore?”
“No.” I set our guns on the nightstand. “Do you sleep naked?”
“I will, if you request it.”
I drank him in. His muscular chest was a beautiful image to behold. Every chiseled layer was accounted for. Meanwhile, his pajama pants did nothing to hide his cock. While I didn’t know the length or thickness, I knew it was long and big. It kept swinging against the thin material.
Clearing my throat, I went back to the bed, wondering what the hell I was doing or thinking before I looked at him.
Alexander’s deep voice sounded behind me. “No answer?”
“Sorry.” I blushed in embarrassment. “What was the question again?”
“Does milady request her knight’s nudity?”
My mouth curved into a smile. “No, kind sir. I’ve been through enough tonight.”
“Well, I’m here if you need me.” He yawned. “By the way, you had your pants off when you came into the hallway.”
Pulling back the blankets, I climbed into the bed. “Yes. I did.”
“That leads me to assume that you sleep with no pants on.”
“You’re correct.”
“Feel free to get as comfortable as you need.”
Only he could make me laugh after such a crazy evening. “That’s fine, but I’m sleeping with my pants on.”
“As milady pleases.” He bowed and then walked over to the light switch. “We should get some sleep. We have lots to do tomorrow. I want to check out the deputy’s house. He’s not our Unsub, but we should check on it just in case. Are you up for another field trip to Colesville?”
“Yes.”
He flipped the switch.
Darkness filled the room wherever moonlight didn’t touch it.
I lay down in the bed that he’d just been sleeping in. His masculine scent surrounded me. His cologne was still on the pillow. I remembered the strength of Alexander’s touch, closed my eyes, and inhaled. It was like he was closer, wrapping his arms around my body and protecting me.
All thoughts of the Angel Maker or even the dead deputy’s face disappeared.
Alexander’s deep voice carried through the moonlit room. “Haven?”
“Yes.”
“Let me know if you need anything. I joke a lot, but I’m here for you.”
“I know you are. You’ve done more than enough. I don’t know many supervising agents that would give up their bed. Most would’ve just thrown me in another room.”
“I don’t want anything to happen to you. Do you remember what I said when I first met you?”
“Yes,” I whispered. “You said that you had enough nightmares and my death was not another one you wanted to add to the list.”
“I meant that.”
“I know you did. I’ll do my best, not to be a new nightmare.”
“Good.”
“Thank you.”
“No. Thank you. I like having a beautiful woman in my bed.”
Always the flirt.
Relaxing, I closed my eyes and sank deep into his scent.
Chapter 18
Dead Ends
Alexander
I went to sleep with Haven in my room, knowing it was the safest place she could be. Surely, when my father heard about this arrangement, he would lose his mind. If Haven was a man, it wouldn’t raise questions. But she was an attractive woman, and I had placed her in my suite, directly in my bed. And I didn’t care one bit about the repercussions that could come my way.
I needed Haven safe. I put her in my bed, and I told myself that it was mainly because she had been significant to bringing us closer to the Unsub. So close that even the Angel Maker had contacted her himself, attempting to scare her away.
But the real reason was that I liked Haven. It wasn’t a fall over heels, madly in love sort of way. But there was something underneath my flesh—desire, hunger, a yearning for more in life—and it was longing to break free. I wanted to explore this feeling with Haven, once this case was over. And I couldn’t do that with some mad man threatening and trying to kill her.
Additionally, I didn’t trust no one else to protect her as good as me.
So, she would stay in my suite until the case ended.
I’ll deal with the shit storm when it comes.
The next day was Saturday. We returned to Colesville and checked out Deputy Martelle’s apartment, poking through hi
s possessions with gloved hands and rifling through what was left of his life.
A Colesville deputy’s salary must not have been much. The place was a small one-bedroom apartment. It took Haven and I barely ten minutes to explore the living room and kitchen.
Stein had researched Deputy Greg Martelle. The man had been thirty-eight years old. No kids. No marriage. No affiliation with any church. He belonged to a bowling team that had lost their championship for the past six years. His mother told Stein that the deputy struggled with drug addiction and went to Narcotics Anonymous meetings for three years. Stein and Richards were across town, checking out his NA meeting attendance. If he was in a meeting during the time one of the girls was kidnapped, he probably would be innocent.
A deputy with drug addiction. Is that a clue to what you were trying to hide? Are the sheriffs and you involved with something dealing with drugs?
Part of me was annoyed with looking into Deputy Martelle. I was certain Colesville police were hiding some form of corruption. I doubted it had anything to do with my serial killer. The more time we spent in this town, the more we left Fullbrooke’s girls to be preyed on by a maniac.
Still, just in case I was wrong, we had to investigate everything.
Haven looked discouraged. “Nothing is in here.”
“We haven’t found anything, but most secrets are kept in the bedroom.” I flipped on the light and stepped into the space. “We should at least recheck that before going.”
Haven hesitated, just for a moment, then followed me inside the small room. “What do you think we’re going find here?”
“No idea. Probably nothing.”
Stein and other agents had already been over the place. Stein had excellent instincts and great training, so I doubted he missed much. But I always had to check everything out on my own. We were human after all. Anybody could accidentally skip an important detail.
“Should we even be here?” Haven asked.
“This could be a complete waste, but that’s the field. 80% brings up nothing, but it’s the 20% of value in the field that makes it all worth it. Because that’s what catches the bad guys, that’s what hopefully makes the world a safer place.”
“You should be a motivational speaker.”
“I would, but I’m only this positive 10% of the time.”
“And what about the 90%?”
“During that time, I’m dark, negative, and in desperate need of coffee.” I’d already chugged down two cups of the black stuff this morning. It had been impossible to sleep in the room with Haven—that warm, curvy body taunted me a few feet away. My cock lay hard against my leg the whole night, hoping she would sit up in bed and ask for a session of cuddling.
No request came.
And my cock mourned over the loss possibilities.
We searched through the apartment some more.
Haven walked over to the bed. Her gaze darted to a framed picture on the nightstand. I checked the photo out. In the image, Deputy Martelle hugged a blonde woman.
“This must be his girlfriend,” Haven said.
“Or ex-girlfriend.”
She picked it up. “If that’s his ex, would he still have the picture on the nightstand?”
“I think so.”
“I doubt it.”
“Your ex does.”
She looked up from the picture. “What?”
“Sean has a picture of you and him on his nightstand. It’s above his spank bank.”
“His spank bank?”
“Yes. A stack of X-rated magazines in his drawer with a bottle of lotion. Do you know what he likes to jack off to? Beautiful, curvy black women. But I doubt you’re surprised.”
“I didn’t need to know all of that.” She raised her hand in the air as if not wanting any more information. “And there’s no way Sean still has a picture of me in his bedroom.”
“He does. You’re wearing a red sweater with white hearts on it. Something I would have never pictured you in. You look more like a yellow sweater with black stars type of woman to me.”
She laughed. “He bought me that sweater. I didn’t like it, but I wore it on that day.”
“So, then I should get you the yellow sweater with the black stars?”
“No, thank you.” She turned the frame around and studied it. “ I can’t believe Sean has the picture in his bedroom still.”
“I can’t believe you’re not shocked by the contents of his spank bank.”
“I ignored that part of the discussion.” She took off the back of the framed picture and set it down. “Hmmm.”
“Did you find something?”
“Yes. A small piece of paper behind the picture.” She set the frame and image down. “I used to hide stuff in places like this.”
“What would you hide?” I walked over to her.
“Love notes.” She handed me the paper.
I studied it. Three numbers were written on the back with times and an address next to each one. I gave it back to her. “Hidden numbers with no names. That tends to point to something illegal.”
“Drugs?”
“Could be some sort of drug deal, since he was an addict. It also could be a pickup of another kind. Human trafficking. The exchange of guns. Or this could just be where he puts the numbers and addresses of his favorite prostitutes.”
Haven pulled out a plastic bag in her pocket and put the paper inside of it. “My bet is drug deal.”
“Me too. The sheriffs are both meeting at the bar which could point to them doing something underhanded together that affects both towns.”
“And the deputy is an underling that handles small parts of the operation.”
“If there’s something dirty going on, Deputy Martelle was definitely the cleanup guy.”
She frowned. “And whatever evidence he could have had in his house, would be gone by now.”
“If the sheriffs were smart, they cleaned it up when they told him to head our way last night.”
“Sheriff Michaelson probably went straight here.” She set down the plastic bag on the bed. “Will we call the numbers?”
“The other agents will. But we’re just grasping for straws at this point.” I went over to the other side of his room, yanked open the dresser drawers, and searched through the clothes. “On another note, are you surprised that Sean had the picture of you both on his nightstand?”
She lowered to the ground and looked under the bed. “It doesn’t matter. We’re not together.”
“All love is gone?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
I shoved the top dresser drawer closed and went to the next one. “Interesting.”
She looked up. “Did you find something?”
“No. I’m still being nosy about Sean and you.”
She rose from the floor and went over to the closet. “There is no Sean and me.”
“Good.”
She looked at me. “Why good?”
“Because Sean pointed us to Colesville, and this town has annoyed me.” I held her gaze and regretted it. Looking at her was starting to be another favorite pastime. Now that she was staying in my room, it would be hard to behave myself.
Those beautiful brown eyes ignited lust. She was the purest form of temptation. Here I was in the bedroom of a dead man, and all I could do was question Haven about her ex.
Stop acting like your jealous. They’re done.
I dragged my attention back to the drawer.
Focus. I’m in this godforsaken town due to the Fullbrooke Six. Not for the gorgeous agent.
I gritted my teeth. The living girls needed me. The Angel Maker would come again. I had no time to lust after Haven. I needed to keep my attention on the case and deaths that would come. I checked the last drawer and found nothing.
“Alexander.”
I turned her way.
The deputy had a small desk in the corner of his bedroom. Haven had the top drawer open and a black book in her hand.
I walked over
to her. “What’s that?”
“I don’t know, but more phone numbers along with street addresses.” She handed it to me. “This was in a compartment above the drawer.”
“Hidden?”
“Yes. From the average quick search, a person wouldn’t find it.”
I opened the book and skimmed some of the pages. “Yes. This definitely looks like dates for pickups.”
She pushed the drawer closed and checked the small ones on the side. The first was empty. The second was stuck. Dropping to her knees, she carefully pulled the drawer back and eased it out of the grooves that held it in place.
Haven pulled out an envelope from the drawer. “This was taped at the back of the drawer.”
“You’re good at finding hidden things.”
“Of course. I was a teenaged girl with a religious mother and a cop for a father. One must hide a lot in that household.” Haven opened the envelope. The top had already been ripped apart, the ends tattered and loose. “There’s at least five thousand dollars in here.”
“Definitely not a deputy’s wage.”
“Not at all.” She set the envelope back on the desk. “Nothing was on the front. No name or address.”
I skimmed through more of the pages in the book. “Lots of highlighted numbers, but no indication of what this is about. I’m going to have Stein call the DEA. Perhaps, they know something or want to check out our drug angle.”
She came closer and stood next to me, making it hard to focus.
I made sure not to look into her eyes. “We could probably check with ATF too if this involves gun trafficking.”
“Then, this wasn’t a waste of time at all.” She bagged the envelope of money.
“Not a waste for justice, but probably a dead end for finding our Unsub.” I put the notebook in its own evidence bag.
We searched the place some more, but those were the most significant clues that we found.
An hour later, we left Colesville. I chugged my third cup of coffee. Haven muttered to herself and gazed out of the window. A dark mood rose within the car. I knew how she felt. I had experienced the same sadness and self-doubt in every case I had worked on.
Missing Hearts Page 17