Winter's Rise

by Mary Stone

  Ladwig gasped. “How?”

  Even the attorney looked stunned.

  “Pulled it out of a woman’s stomach earlier today. And I mean, honestly, Ladwig, can you even do brain surgery? Much less keep someone alive after you cut into their head? It was a stretch, I’ll be honest. Pinning you as the mastermind mad scientist here.” Noah laughed, and Ladwig’s face turned just the shade of purple he’d been hoping for.

  “That’s quite—”

  The doctor let out a whoosh of air as his lawyer elbowed him in the ribs.

  A part of Noah smirked, but the other part couldn’t stop staring at the attorney. What the hell was going on?

  He looked at Ladwig again. “Now, I’ll tell you what, gentlemen. When we do find the killer, and we will find them, this can go one of two ways.”

  Chase Parker regained his composure first. “Do tell.” He looked bored, but his pupils were still dilated, Noah noted.

  “First,” he held up one finger, “your client can tell us who he’s covering for and we’ll go easy on him when it comes time for sentencing. Or,” he raised a second finger, “you can keep your mouth shut, and then when the real killer’s case goes to trial, you’ll go on trial right along with them. And I’m afraid our ‘no death penalty’ deal won’t extend that far.”

  For what felt like an eternity, Ladwig’s intent stare was on Noah. The silence was so complete, so pervasive, that they could have heard a pin drop in the next room over.

  “You’ve got twenty-four hours.” Bree’s voice broke through the quiet like a thunderclap.

  Twenty-four hours or twenty-four minutes, Noah thought. It wouldn’t make a difference. Ladwig’s stare told him everything he needed to know about the level of cooperation they could expect.

  They were on their own.

  He just didn’t understand why the man was offering himself up as the scapegoat.

  30

  Autumn leapt from her seat as soon as Aiden Parrish stepped through the doorway, then immediately regretted the movement. Her stomach hurt like a son of a bitch, but she’d be damned if she let the BAU chief witness it.

  She had been seated in the same waiting area for the past forty-five minutes, and she was about to lose her mind. There were only so many games of solitaire a person could play before their sanity slipped away.

  Despite the target a serial killer had painted on her back, she had decided to leave if no one came to update her in the next fifteen minutes.

  There was more to Aiden Parrish’s motivation to keep her around than he let on, but she couldn’t be sure of the precise reason for the man’s sudden interest in her. All she knew was that his motive was less than professional.

  Maybe the attention should have made her giddy. Maybe the idea that such a smart, handsome man had taken an interest in her should have made her cheeks flush, her stomach flutter, and her mind wander. And maybe it would have if Autumn was a normal twenty-eight-year-old woman.

  She was far from naïve, and she suspected that even without the sixth sense that gave her insight into other people’s behavior, she would still have been suspicious.

  When Winter rounded the corner after Aiden, she was so surprised by the wave of relief that she had to keep herself from stalking over to wrap the woman in a bear hug.

  As she made note of Winter’s stony expression, however, the cold claw around her stomach kept her rooted in place. Winter looked like she had come from a funeral to discover that someone had wrecked her car.

  “What?” Autumn blurted, glancing back and forth between her and Aiden.

  “He’s not our guy.” Even though Autumn’s attention was fixed on Winter, Aiden was the first to respond.

  Furrowing her brows, she turned to meet the man’s steely gaze. “Wait, what? Who the hell did you bring in, then?”

  “He is only an accomplice,” he answered. “Whoever did the actual killings is still out there.”

  With a sigh, Winter rubbed her eyes. “I’m sorry, Autumn,” she offered.

  As the implication became clearer, Autumn only opened and closed her mouth.

  So, there was still a serial killer out there who had painted a target on her back. Whether or not the Bureau had the tracking device, the killer had watched her movements for long enough to have a detailed outline of her routine, of her address, of her whole damn life.

  She cleared her throat. “Then what does that mean for me?”

  “For now, it means we’re going to make sure there’s an agent or a local cop keeping an eye out for you.” Though Winter’s tone was reassuring and kind, Autumn’s stomach dropped.

  “For now?” she echoed.

  Aiden crossed his arms as he shook his head. “It’s not a permanent solution. It’s expensive, and it’s not a joyous experience for you or anyone else involved.”

  “But we’ll find them,” Winter added quickly. She shot an irritable look at the taller man, but Aiden either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “Catherine Schmidt is our prime suspect now. We just have to find her. Bree has a couple contacts in White Collar Crimes who can expedite the investigation to find out where she went, since it looks like we’re dealing with a person who’s using a stolen identity.”

  “Motherfucker,” Autumn spat. “Well, can I go home now, or do I get a sleeping bag so I can stay in the FBI waiting room?” She knew Aiden and Winter both wanted to keep her safe, but she couldn’t help the petulance. She was exhausted and hurting. She’d just had surgery, for heaven’s sake.

  “No,” Aiden started, “I can take you home. We’ll get ahold of the local PD and have someone post up outside your apartment building.”

  Though Winter’s glance to Aiden was fleeting, Autumn thought there was enough venom behind her eyes to kill a regiment of soldiers.

  She didn’t have to touch them to recognize the tension in their dynamic. There were as many unresolved issues between them as there were between Autumn and her most recent ex.

  Was that it? Had Winter and Aiden dated?

  No, the man would have come up in conversation between either her and Noah or her and Winter. Autumn could tell Noah’s affection for Winter went beyond platonic, but he was respectful of her boundaries and valued her friendship.

  As Autumn turned her attention back to Aiden, the picture became clearer. Aiden’s affection for Winter went beyond platonic too. Unlike Noah, however, he was still at war with himself over the feelings. She could see it in the way he looked at her, could hear it in his voice when he addressed her.

  But what about Winter? Was she at war with herself over her feelings for Aiden Parrish?

  When the corner of Winter’s mouth twitched in a faint scowl, she thought she had her answer.

  “It’s fine.” Autumn waved a dismissive hand. “I’ll take an Uber. I need to check my stitches, and I’m so sick of this building I don’t think I ever want to see it again.”

  “I was about to leave.” Winter took a step toward her. “I’ll take you home. If it’s alright with you, I’ll stay at your place so you don’t have to deal with a stranger outside your door all night.”

  Autumn bit off a weary sigh and nodded. “Yeah, that’s fine. Sorry, Mr. Parrish. I’m going to have to go with my friend on this one, even if it means riding in a Civic instead of a Mercedes.”

  At first, the man looked like he might protest. Why in the hell were he and Winter fighting over her? Were they really fighting over her, or was this some sort of pissing match that went with their ill-perceived affections for one another?

  She fought against a groan. She had never wanted to be at home as much as she did right now.

  “Okay,” Aiden finally replied.

  Propelled by a sick sense of curiosity, Autumn extended a hand to him and feigned an amiable smile. “Thanks again for the food.”

  As he accepted the handshake, she wanted to release her grip and sprint out the door, but she held the agreeable expression together until she and Winter turned to leave.

  Aiden Par
rish might have had an ulterior motive for his actions toward Autumn, but mixed in was a sense of intrigue she hadn’t expected. She could only assume that the draw he felt to her was the basis for the conflict that raged in his mind.

  Still, she couldn’t fault him for the sentiment. The inner turmoil was just one more thing she and Aiden Parrish had in common.

  Only, in her case, the bridge had already been burned. Aiden still had a chance to pursue the woman who captivated him so, and Autumn did not have such a luxury.

  Neither she nor Winter spoke on their trek out to the familiar little Honda. As Winter turned the key over in the ignition, Autumn fastened her seatbelt and rolled down the window.

  “So,” she started, her tone as casual as she could manage. “How long have you and Parrish known one another? Seems like you guys must go way back.”

  A less keen observer might not have noticed how Winter stiffened at the question. “Yeah,” she answered. “Um, I’ve known him since I was about thirteen. So, thirteen years, give or take a couple months.”

  “Really? How’d you meet an FBI agent when you were thirteen?”

  Shadows from the ruddy streetlights shifted along Winter’s face as she clenched and unclenched her jaw, and Autumn felt a twinge of guilt. She was prying, and she hated when people pried into her past.

  “I told you that my parents died when I was younger, right?” Winter’s blue eyes flicked over to Autumn as they pulled up to a red light.

  “Yeah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring that up. I guess I just thought it might’ve been a funny story or something.”

  As Winter shook her head, a faint smile passed over her face. “No, it’s all right. Part of being friends is sharing stuff, right?”

  Autumn returned the smile and nodded.

  “Well, that’s how I met Aiden. My parents were both killed when I was thirteen and he, the guy who killed them, he hit me in the back of the head really hard. I think he was trying to kill me, but I woke up from a coma after three months.”

  “No way.” Autumn kept her tone light in hopes it would alleviate some of the wistfulness she saw on Winter’s face. “You had a traumatic brain injury too?” Before the light could turn green, Autumn pushed aside some of her auburn hair to point at a jagged scar on the side of her forehead. “I was in a medically induced coma for two weeks.”

  “Really?” Winter gawked, her eyes wide. “Holy shit. How’d it happen? Did you get smacked in the head by a serial killer too?”

  With a snort of laughter, Autumn shook her head. “No. I tripped and fell into the edge of a coffee table.”

  The lie was so practiced that, these days, it rolled off her lips like it was the truth. But in that moment, she suspected she wasn’t the only one of them withholding something.

  Winter’s moment of wide-eyed disbelief hadn’t been the level of surprise Autumn expected. She’d expected a string of four-letter words, repeated utterances of sympathy, or a stunned silence. Instead, Winter reacted the same way Autumn would have expected if she’d announced they had the same favorite flavor of ice cream.

  “Well, still.” Winter flashed her a smile. “TBIs suck. It sucks that you had one too.”

  “They do suck.” Autumn chuckled, pushing her friend’s demeanor out of her thoughts. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

  Winter shook her head. “No, I appreciate the levity. It’s been a long time since it happened, but it can still be hard to talk about. My parents, they were both killed by a serial killer named Douglas Kilroy. His moniker was The Preacher.”

  Though Autumn wanted to gawk at her friend, to vocalize her awe, she swallowed the sentiment down and merely nodded instead. Douglas Kilroy might have been fascinating from a psychological perspective, but the man had killed the parents of Autumn’s good friend.

  “I followed that case,” she replied. “That guy was a serious piece of work. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

  “It was hard,” Winter said, her voice lowered. “I won’t lie about that. But my grandparents raised me, and they’re both wonderful. They took me in like I was their own kid. That’s why I wanted to be an FBI agent, though. So I could track down Kilroy and put him away.”

  Autumn could tell the recollection had become more difficult. “Maybe someday you can tell me about it.”

  With a wistful smile, Winter nodded. “Yeah, someday.”

  Autumn hesitated before she spoke again.

  She wanted her friend to know she wasn’t alone, but at the same time, she didn’t want to reveal all the messy details of her relationship with her biological parents. Maybe she should have been proud of how far she’d come, but when she thought back to her childhood, all she felt was shame and isolation.

  “My parents are gone too.” She was sure at least a full minute of silence had passed before she broke the spell.

  At the last possible second, she’d decided she didn’t want Winter to feel like she was alone.

  Autumn knew the feeling well, and as long as she could help it, none of her friends would be forced to contend with that level of isolation when she was around them. She might have felt like Winter was holding something back, but she didn’t know what that something was.

  For all she knew, it could have been a case detail kept secret for her safety, or to avoid compromising the integrity of their investigation.

  “I’m sorry,” Winter murmured.

  “It’s okay.” Autumn’s tone was just as quiet. “I was eleven at the time. Honestly, they weren’t great parents. Mom overdosed on heroin, and I don’t even know what happened to my dad. He just up and disappeared. Probably got killed and buried in the woods somewhere for ripping off a dealer or something. But, like you said about your grandparents, my adopted parents took me in like I was theirs.”

  Winter’s smile was tiny. “I’m glad they were good to you.”

  “They were my foster parents to begin with, and they were just like those foster parents you see in feel-good movies. They’d never had any kids of their own, and they took their duties as fosters really seriously. I remember them getting a steady flow of thank-you letters from kids who were the first in their families to graduate high school or get accepted into college.”

  “Wow,” Winter said, her voice a bit thick. She cleared her throat. “That sucks, but it’s amazing all at the same time. They sound like great people.”

  “Probably the type of people who would be friends with your grandparents.” Autumn grinned as Winter looked over to her.

  “Probably,” Winter laughed.

  The only person with whom Autumn had ever discussed details of her parents was her ex, and they had been in a committed relationship for close to a year before she offered up as much as she had told Winter. Though she told herself she should be nervous about confiding in another person, she was relieved.

  With my back propped against a pile of pillows, I’d just opened my newest, hefty paperback novel when I heard the obnoxious clatter of my burner phone. I couldn’t remember the last time it had received so many calls in a single day, and I felt the corner of my mouth turn down at the thought.

  As I scooped up the device to glance at the screen, my scowl deepened. The number was the same that had called me earlier.

  “Yes,” I greeted, my voice as flat as I could manage.

  “We need to talk,” the man replied.

  “About what, Mr. Parker?”

  “They know about the tracking devices. They recovered one from a woman, and they brought it up during the interrogation. How many of those things do you have out there?”

  My heart picked up speed, and I willed it down to its normal rate. “Only a few.” I’d only been willing to take the risk with the patients who were most auspicious. Jensen had been one, and now there were only three left. One was an hour north of the city, one was in the city, and the other was still in Minnesota.

  Which meant if the FBI had discovered one, there was only one likely source.

&nb
sp; “Did they say who?” I didn’t want it to be Autumn. She was so resilient, so promising.

  “No, but everything I gathered from them indicates that whoever it is, they’re local. They had the device in their possession, and it’d have to be someone near here for them to have gotten ahold of it so fast.” There was a rare note of foreboding in Mr. Parker’s words, and I didn’t like the implications of his tone.

  But if I lied, if I kept Autumn’s name to myself, he would know. Parker always knew. I didn’t know the first thing about the man, but he knew everything about almost anyone with whom he worked. It was a one-sided relationship, and it always had been, but what choice did I have? As much as I disliked him, I knew well enough how dangerous Parker was.

  “I need their name, Sandra. I need their name, and I need to know how well they knew you so I can figure out how much we’ve got to worry about.” The chill was back in his voice, and honestly, I thought I preferred that to the menace.

  Autumn might have been promising, but she wasn’t nearly enough for me to compromise my own wellbeing.

  “Don’t kill her if you can manage it.” I closed my eyes. “Her name is Autumn Nichol. She’s in Richmond. She was a patient of mine seventeen years ago. I doubt she has a better recollection of me than anyone else.”

  “You’re going to need to lay low. Even lower than you are now. Take some time off work, and I’ll call you back when it’s clear.”

  I clenched my jaw. How was I supposed to manage that? Maybe Parker could take time off work whenever he wanted, but that wasn’t how hospital jobs worked.

  “I can’t just ‘take some time off,’” I grated.

  “You’re smart, Sandra. You’ll figure it out.”

  31

  Winter’s sore muscles protested with each step she took toward her couch. In part to offer security and in part because she was interested, Winter had gone with Autumn to her Krav Maga classes over the past few days. Even though her friend was still healing from surgery, Autumn still pushed herself further than most post-op patients should.