Before the Dawn--A Novel of Romantic Suspense

by Cynthia Eden

  Red’s eyes fluttered open. Did he even see Tucker? The fellow’s gaze was bleary, pain-filled. His lips moved as if he’d speak.

  You can’t speak, buddy. Some bastard cut your throat open.

  “Hold on,” Tucker said. “I’m going to get you help. You’re going to be okay—”

  Footsteps rushed behind him, and Tucker looked up. He’d put his gun down when he ran to Red’s side, and if the perp was coming back to attack again...

  But, no, Anthony stood in the doorway. His eyes were wide, his weapon drawn. “I heard your voice,” he said, stepping closer as his frantic gaze took in the scene. “Fuck!”

  “Call an ambulance!” Tucker barked.

  Anthony yanked out his phone.

  Red’s body jerked. His eyelids twitched then began to sink closed.

  “Red?” Tucker said.

  No response.

  “Red!”

  * * *

  SHE WAS STARING out at the city lights when she heard the ring of a phone behind her. Not her phone, though, because she didn’t recognize that ringtone, and a moment later she heard Bowen say, “Hey, man. She’s good. Got my eyes on her right now.” A brief pause. “Now tell me you found our witness.”

  Silence.

  “I see.” Bowen’s voice had become stilted. “Right. Yes, I know you made the right call. Never doubted it. No, no, don’t worry. I’m not going anyplace and neither is she.”

  Her shoulders stiffened.

  “I’ll be here when you get back. We’ll both be here.”

  More silence as he ended the call. She kept staring out at the city. From her position, she could see a barge on the river. Lights were on that barge, but the river was just darkness beneath it. Jason got lost in the darkness.

  The Mississippi was so strong. The authorities had sent dive teams in the water, but they hadn’t found Jason’s body. They’d said that gators might have gotten to him...or maybe his body had been pulled out by the current. Pulled deeper into the Mississippi...that he could have been taken all the way to the Gulf.

  That it would be impossible to ever find his body.

  She heard the squeak of the couch and the faint rustle of Bowen’s steps behind her. “Let me guess,” Dawn finally said as she stopped staring at the barge but instead caught sight of his reflection in the window as he approached her. “You get to keep babysitting me while Tucker and Anthony are interviewing Red?”

  “No.” A quick, curt response. His reflection looked big and dark, tense. Dawn glanced over her shoulder.

  The man looked the exact same way. He exhaled. “Red is dead.”

  Shock beat through her body.

  “When Tucker found him, Red had been stabbed in the chest and in the throat.”

  She forced her knees to stiffen. For a moment there, it had almost felt as if they wanted to give way.

  “When Tucker got to him, Red was still alive, but the guy only lasted for mere seconds.”

  Dawn shook her head. “That’s...that’s not how Jason kills.”

  Bowen blinked at her. “Jason?”

  Oh, shit. I slipped up. I’m not supposed to say that I think Jason is still out there. People think I’m crazy when I say stuff like that. Even Tucker didn’t believe me. “That’s not how the Iceman kills.” Her words were very careful now. “He’s never attacked a man. And he doesn’t leave his victims behind. He lets them die in the freezer.”

  Bowen stared at her. “Maybe he didn’t have an option this time. If he realized Red could identify him, then he would have needed to get rid of the guy right away.”

  Another death. “Why is this happening? After all these years, why now?” Just when she’d gotten her life together. Just when she’d found a place—people—that she could truly connect with. It seemed as if everything was falling apart.

  “Our unit won’t give up.” Bowen’s tone was flat. “Know that. Agent Dark is right when she says that our personal ties to killers are strengths. We understand just how devastating their attacks can be...and we know that victims need justice.”

  She couldn’t just stand there with him any longer. “Excuse me. I’m...I’m tired.” She brushed past him, made sure her steps were certain. Steady.

  She shut the bedroom door behind her with a soft click.

  Jinx. Red. Heather Hartley. Her lips trembled. And she let herself cry there, alone in the dark.

  * * *

  “ANOTHER BODY FOR JULIA.” Anthony gave a sad shake of his head. “I did not want the night to end this way. We needed Red to ID the perp.”

  The body had been taken away. The blood had been washed from Tucker’s hands. Police lights still swirled at the scene, but the other folks at the motel had finally gone back into their rooms.

  No one had seen anything. No one had heard anything. In that kind of place, folks tended to mind their own business. If you heard a strange sound, you didn’t investigate.

  And that meant a man died.

  “How’d the perp know Red was in that room?” Anthony suddenly asked him. “I talked to the desk clerk. He said you didn’t even come inside when you arrived...”

  Tucker rolled his shoulders, trying to get rid of the heavy tension that had gathered there. “The door to room number 104 was open. It worried me, so I went to check it out.” His gaze slid to Anthony. “That’s when I found our guy.” But the perp had been long gone. Damn it.

  “You know this could be unrelated.” Anthony put his hands on his hips. “Our homeless community is pretty big. Dawn gave the guy one hundred dollars. Maybe Red told the wrong person about that cash. I didn’t see it in his room. Maybe it was just a robbery gone wrong and not the copycat we’re after.”

  “Red was a witness. He told Dawn what he saw and hours later, he’s dead.” Tucker didn’t move. “I’m not buying that as a coincidence.”

  “But it doesn’t fit the killer’s MO. I mean, I get that I’m just some detective to you, but I read those case files. The Iceman doesn’t attack this way—”

  “MOs can change. Especially when circumstances demand that change.” He was certain on this. “Red saw the killer, and now he’s dead.”

  Anthony sighed. “Did Red say anything to you? I mean—”

  Tucker gave a bitter laugh. “Hard to talk when your voice box is gone.” Such a sad fucking waste. “He didn’t get the chance to say anything.”

  Anthony looked a little green, but after a few deep breaths, he said, “There was a lot of blood spatter in there. Maybe the perp left evidence behind we can use.”

  Their techs were combing over the scene right then. “Maybe.” Had Bowen already told Dawn? She’d wanted to come with him to the motel, but he’d been afraid the killer would be there. Waiting. Looking for her.

  But the killer beat me here.

  “Who gave you the tip on this place?” Anthony asked him.

  “Jones.” And they’d be talking to him. Seeing if the guy had mentioned Red’s location to anyone else. This shouldn’t have happened.

  Crime scene tape fluttered in the faint breeze.

  The killer was moving too fast, striking too quickly. Almost taunting them. The perp was confident and determined, and the attack on Red proved that he wasn’t afraid to make a kill right under the nose of the authorities.

  Red was still alive. We missed the killer by minutes. Damn minutes. They’d already checked, hoping there was some kind of video surveillance system in place at the motel, but there was nothing.

  Just blood left behind in a killer’s wake.

  “Dawn is safe, right?” Anthony questioned Tucker, and there was something in the detective’s voice...a deeper edge of worry that had Tucker turning his head toward the other man and studying him a bit harder.

  “She’s safe,” he replied curtly.
<
br />   Anthony held his stare and stepped closer. “Is she?”

  What in the fuck?

  “Is Dawn really safe with you?” Anthony’s voice had gone quiet and cold. “I know this has to be a damn nightmare for her. She and Jinx were close. Those two damn women lit up when they were together. Fastest friends you ever saw.”

  “I didn’t realize you knew Jinx.” Is Dawn really safe with you? The guy’s words echoed in his head and Tucker found himself clenching his hands into fists.

  Anthony’s lips turned down. “Who do you think hooked up Dawn and Malone? The guy wanted help with his daughter, but Captain Hatch wasn’t giving me the go-ahead for the investigation—and I knew Dawn would find that girl. She doesn’t give up.” Admiration lit his gaze. “And she doesn’t back down.”

  The man sure seemed to know a lot about her.

  “I knew Jinx and Malone long before Dawn did. And hell...” His fingers raked over his face. “I was the one who went to tell Malone about Jinx’s death. That’s why it took me so long to arrive here. I wanted to give him the news in person. Thought he deserved to hear it from me.” Faint lines of strain bracketed his mouth. “I hate telling people their loved ones are gone. Worst fucking part of the job.” He shook his head. “No, check that. Having a killer get away, knowing he’s still out there, possibly hunting his next victim right this minute... That’s the worst.” His eyes sharpened on Tucker. “So I ask you again...is Dawn safe with you?”

  “I’m a former fucking SEAL, and a trained FBI agent. I know how to keep a victim safe.” He had to bite back the fury rising in him. “I would never let anything happen to her.”

  “Because it’s so personal to you.” Anthony’s voice was still quiet.

  So was Tucker’s. Lethally so. “All the more reason to keep her safe.”

  Anthony’s lips tightened. “You think it’s not personal for me, too?”

  And there it was. The undercurrent that Tucker had sensed when Anthony was near Dawn.

  “You’re her past,” Anthony said. “And when I talk about danger to Dawn, I’m not just meaning the prick out there killing. You’re bad for her, Agent Frost. I know it. You know it. And so does she.”

  Fucking hell.

  “So maybe someone else should be in charge of keeping Dawn safe. The NOPD knows how to protect victims, too.” His eyes glittered. “And being with me wouldn’t wreck the world that Dawn has built for herself.”

  Tucker took a step closer to the detective. There were eyes on them. Cops. Reporters. Local FBI agents. “Dawn isn’t for you.” The warning carried only to the man before him.

  But Anthony gave a grunt. “You really think she’d ever be truly happy with you? You made the woman run screaming before. When she looks at you, deep down, we both know...she’ll always see him.”

  Tucker’s greatest fear. Right there.

  Anthony glanced around, as if making sure they weren’t being overheard, and then he said, “So how about you just focus on profiling this bastard. Let me take care of Dawn. Before you screw up her world even more.”

  Tucker’s back teeth clenched. His control cracked. He reached out toward Anthony.

  “Agent Frost.”

  He stiffened. Tucker knew that feminine voice, one rich with command. His gaze jerked to the left. Samantha Dark stepped forward from the shadows.

  “Agent Frost... I got to the scene as fast as I could.” She hurried toward him, her steps brisk and her heels clicking across the pavement. “Once my flight touched down, I went to see Macey and Dr. Bradford. Sorry I didn’t get here faster when the call came in.” Samantha’s gaze swept toward Anthony. “And you must be...Detective Deveraux.” She offered her hand. “Glad you called us in on this case.”

  “Yeah, me, too.” Only he didn’t sound especially glad as he shook her hand. “Though I wasn’t expecting the bodies to pile up so fast on me.”

  “No.” Her voice was emotionless. “And they shouldn’t have. The fact that you have three dead in this city now—dead that could all be linked to the same killer—means that we are dealing with a very unstable predator.”

  Anthony’s gaze trekked back to Tucker. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  Another cop called out to him.

  “Excuse me.” Anthony stepped away.

  Tucker watched him go.

  “Your hands are fisted,” Samantha noted.

  He forced his hands to relax.

  “It appeared to me as if you were about to lunge at an officer of the law.” Again, no emotion was in her voice. “Something you want to tell me?”

  Deveraux wants Dawn. He’s not getting her. Not when her scent was still on Tucker’s skin...the sweet scent that had finally pushed past the cloying stench of blood and death. Not when Tucker could still hear her sighs and her moans in his ears. Not when he could feel the silk of her skin.

  Not when I want her more than anything else.

  “Personal connections can work to our advantage. Your link to Jason and your understanding of his crimes is beneficial to this case.” She reached out and touched his arm. “But your link to Dawn Alexander could be a liability.”

  Slowly, his head turned. His gaze met hers.

  “If you’re so consumed by her that you don’t see the threat coming, you won’t be any use to her. So I’m asking you—and I need you to tell me the truth right now—is your control in place when you’re around her? Can I count on you to do your job?”

  To protect Dawn? To hunt the killer? “Yes,” Tucker said with certainty.

  But...was his control in place around her?

  Hell, no. Only Tucker didn’t see that as a weakness, either. The fact that she was the one person who made him wild, who pushed him over the edge...that just meant that he would do anything for her. He wouldn’t rest until she was safe.

  There were no limits for him, not when it came to Dawn.

  Never when it came to her.

  * * *

  TUCKER OPENED THE door to the hotel suite. He took a few steps inside, his shoes sinking into the thick carpeting. If Dawn was sleeping, he didn’t want to wake her.

  “You should really let me know before you decide to waltz right in.” A lamp flashed on and he saw Bowen sitting up on the couch, a gun cradled in his hand. “You know, knock politely at the door. Something to signal that you’re coming inside and not just sneaking around like a perp in the dark.”

  Tucker stilled.

  Bowen studied him a moment. “Judging by your face, I’m guessing it was one hell of a scene.”

  It was. More shit that would haunt his nightmares. “If I’d arrived just ten minutes sooner...”

  Bowen stood up and holstered his gun.

  “Red was still breathing when I arrived,” Tucker added. “But I knew he was dying, and I knew there wasn’t anything I could do to save him.” He’d hated that helplessness. His gaze slid toward Dawn’s room. The door was shut. “Did you tell her?”

  “Yeah.” Bowen ran his hand over his face. “She got quiet and went in her room. I don’t think she’s the kind of woman who lets others see her pain.”

  No. “Dawn’s very private.”

  His hand dropped. “She was pissed as all hell at you for leaving her behind.”

  He paced toward her room, caught himself and stopped. “I’m glad you kept watch on her here. One dead body a day should be enough for anyone.”

  “You were afraid the killer would be there, that he’d be watching. That he’d go after her.”

  Tucker turned his head toward Bowen. “I’m still afraid of that.” It was just the two of them, and he heard no sound from Dawn’s room, so he figured he could speak freely to the other agent. “It’s all about her. The first kill—Heather Hartley—she wasn’t even living in this city. The killer brought her here.�
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  “Because Dawn was here.”

  He nodded. “Dawn told me that she’d been feeling as if someone watched her for the last few weeks. That someone was in her home.” That son of a bitch will pay. “I think the guy was accessing her place from Jinx’s, coming and going as he wanted. Since Jinx was continuing on with her life as normal during that time, we have to assume the perp is someone she knew. Someone she felt comfortable giving the security code to her building...and a key to her house.”

  “A lover,” Bowen surmised.

  That’s what Tucker thought, and it was good to talk over his theories with a teammate. He stepped away from Dawn’s door as he focused more on Bowen. “He was using Jinx in order to get close to Dawn. When he was ready for his games to really start, that’s when he eliminated Jinx and left those roses for Dawn. He wanted her to know that he’d been studying her. That he’d learned her secrets. Jinx probably told him everything she knew about Dawn, not realizing what was happening until it was too late.”

  Bowen swore. “That’s one cold, methodical bastard you’re talking about.”

  He absolutely was. “And we both know just how dangerous a guy like that truly is.” He glanced at Dawn’s shut door once more. He wanted to go in there and see her, touch her. Just make sure that she was safe, but...

  You have a job to do. Do it. Protect her. He looked away from the door. “There’s a possibility I never considered before.”

  Bowen lifted a brow.

  “When Dawn first told me about her stalker, she wondered if it was Jason.”

  He saw Bowen’s shoulders stiffen.

  “I shot him in the chest. I know I did. Body or no, he’s dead.” He was adamant on that. “But...fuck me, what if he wasn’t working alone?”

  Bowen gave a low whistle. “You know serial killing teams are extremely rare.”

  “But they do exist. One is usually the dominant, and the other follows his orders. Jason would have been the dominant partner of the team. And maybe...maybe with his death, the perp we’re looking for now spiraled. For all we know, he could’ve suffered a mental break and been institutionalized for the past few years.”

  “Or been arrested,” Bowen mused. “If his partner vanished, he would have been at loose ends.”