by Cynthia Eden
Every muscle in Macey’s body locked down at the mention of Rainbow Falls. Not a coincidence, can’t be.
“There’s an old cabin up there,” Peter continued. “You just...you divert off the Rainbow Falls Trail and head over to Bullhead Trail.”
Macey’s gaze met Bowen’s. Oh, hell.
“Most folks don’t ever see that cabin because you have to go off the path in order to find it, but Susannah showed it to me. Said when she was younger, she and her brother would go up there all the time. It was their place... Their parents fought a lot, so they went up there to get away.”
Macey knew he was talking about the cabin that Curtis Zale had used with his victims. She knew it.
“I buried her there, because she liked the place so much.”
“Tell us exactly where,” Bowen snarled.
“There’s a...a yellow birch, about twenty feet from the front of the cabin. I—I put her under its branches. She always said that tree was so beautiful. That it was her favorite.”
This is all related. Everything. Susannah. The nails. The cabin. Curtis.
“Would you...um... Can you tell her brother I’m sorry?”
Macey turned to stare at Peter once more. “No one knows where Susannah’s brother is. We heard that he’d been gone from her life since he was seventeen.”
His eyes widened. “But he was in town, about two months ago. Wesley was looking for her. God, I had to stand right there, with her skull right behind him, and tell the guy that I hadn’t seen her. One of the hardest fucking things I’ve ever done.”
Peter Carter was a serious piece of work. “Even harder than killing his sister?” Macey snapped, pushed to her limit.
A muscle jerked in Peter’s jaw. “You know... Wesley was always so smart.”
No, I don’t know. Because I haven’t found Wesley.
“Susannah bragged about him all the time. Said even when he was a kid, Wesley could do amazing things. That’s why she hated so much that he left when he was seventeen. She’d wanted him to be something, wanted him to use his skills to be—” Peter’s eyes widened. “It was him!”
“What?”
“Wesley! It was him! He’s the one who put all that shit on the computers at the museum! Susannah told me he was a fucking computer genius, but I didn’t even think about him. Shit! I just saw everything and I panicked and—” He tried to lunge up in the bed, but the restraints wouldn’t let him go far.
The uniformed cop tensed. “Easy.”
But Peter wasn’t being easy. He was thrashing against the restraints. “Son of a bitch! He knew! All along, he knew! And he’s fucking trying to frame me!” He twisted his body and Macey saw the blood begin to seep through his paper-thin hospital gown.
“You’re reopening your wounds,” she said quietly.
“It was him!” He struggled harder. A doctor and nurse rushed into the room. “When I find that prick, I’m gonna kill him!”
The nurse injected something into Peter’s IV line.
“Just like you killed his sister?” Bowen said.
Peter stilled. “I want my lawyer.”
“Yeah.” Bowen turned away. “Good luck with that shit. Probably should have asked for him before you made a full confession regarding Susannah’s death.” He headed for the door.
Macey moved to follow him.
“Agent Night!” Peter bellowed her name.
She looked back at him.
“That little prick...you find him! He... Shit, the last time I saw him, he’d dyed his blond hair black. He’d put on about twenty pounds, wasn’t so scrawny anymore, not like in those old pictures of Susannah’s. The guy even told me that he was in school, at college. Don’t remember which fucking one.”
No, because he’d been too busy trying to cover up the murder of the man’s sister. Once more, Macey turned away—
“Agent Night. Why didn’t you kill me?”
Her shoulders stiffened. Bowen had turned to stare at her. He was holding the door and his eyes were on her. “Because I’m an FBI agent,” Macey said without looking back at Peter Carter. “And death would have been too easy for you.”
He’d murdered a woman. He deserved a lifetime of punishment. She’d make sure he got it.
* * *
THEY DROVE HELL-FAST toward the helipad. The SUV slid into the twisting, snaking curves of the mountain roads. Macey was in the passenger seat, her hand gripping the phone at her ear. “Right, yes, Samantha, the guy said Susannah’s remains are at the Curtis Zale crime scene. No, no, I have no idea why Dr. Lang didn’t find them. I thought she was using her equipment on the entire area there. I tried to reach her on her phone, but didn’t connect.” There was a brief pause. “She’s supposed to be out at the crime scene today. That’s where we’re headed now. We’re going to find Susannah. Absolutely. I’ll call you again when I have more news.”
Bowen waited a beat. “Any updates on the brother’s location?”
“No, not yet. Samantha did confirm that a Wesley Kaiser had enrolled at the University of Tennessee, but that was a year ago. The school is going to fax over his student ID picture. But, apparently, he never showed up for his fall classes.”
“Because the poor bastard realized his sister was dead.” And he went looking for some vengeance?
“Samantha said he had a history of drug and alcohol abuse. I’m sure the fact that his sister vanished wouldn’t have sat well with him.”
“What about the fact that Dr. Lang didn’t find the body that should be at the scene?” Bowen demanded as his hands tightened around the steering wheel. Because that shit isn’t sitting well with me. He braked the vehicle and they jumped out.
“I don’t know,” Macey said. “I’m not sure how she missed that.”
We’re about to find out.
It would take far too long to hike to the cabin, and he’d secured transportation on the chopper. He and Macey slid inside and buckled up, and a few moments later, the pilot was lifting them into the air. They rose fast, and the ground seemed to shrink beneath them. The pilot had been ferrying law enforcement personnel back and forth to that particular crime scene, so he knew exactly where they were headed.
Bowen’s gaze slipped from the scene below him and rose to look at Macey’s profile. She was staring out the window, seeming to be a million miles away, even though if he just reached out his hand, he could touch her. Her words to Peter Carter kept ringing in his ears.
Death would have been too easy for you.
Macey was right. Sometimes, death was too easy.
Far too fucking easy.
The chopper skirted through the mountains. The trees were a bright sheen of colors. Those trees just stretched and stretched as far as the eye could see. A thousand places to hide. A million.
It was—
Macey’s hand curled around his.
Surprised, his hold jerked in her grasp. She stared straight at him now. “You.” She spoke into her microphone and he heard her perfectly in his headphones. “When this is done, know that I choose you.”
His heart lurched in his chest. He wanted to pull her into his arms. To hold her fucking tight, but he couldn’t move.
Not then.
Did Macey understand how much her words meant to him? He needed her to know. “You’ve always been the one I chose.” Always.
Her lips lifted in a faint smile.
The blades of the chopper carried them away.
* * *
AS SOON AS the chopper touched down, Bowen and Macey leaped out. The wind beat at Bowen’s back as he took Macey’s arm and made sure she was blocked by his body. He hurried forward and saw the small group of law enforcement and crime scene analyst workers still there. Most wore their white uniforms, with gloves on their hands, moving carefully to make sure they didn’t contaminate the scene.
The chopper began to rise again, leaving as fast as it had arrived. Bowen and Macey hurried to the back of the cabin.
“Be careful!” Dr. Lang was sayin
g. “Absolutely careful! Those remains are fragile. We have to make sure everyone here understands that you can’t remove the bones too quickly.” She was leaning over a yawning grave as she talked to the man at her side. The guy was stooped on the ground, and a baseball cap covered his head.
“Dr. Lang,” Bowen called.
She glanced back.
“We need to talk.”
Her eyes had widened. “I didn’t realize you two would be at the scene today.” Her gaze skirted to Macey, then back to Bowen. “But, right, of course. Let’s talk.” She patted the shoulders of the man in the cap. “Carlisle, I’d like to introduce you to the FBI agents I mentioned before.”
The man in the cap glanced back. The fellow was younger than Bowen had first suspected. A dark beard covered his face.
“This is my assistant, Carlisle,” Dr. Lang said. “Carlisle, this is Agent Bowen Murphy and Agent Macey Night.”
Carlisle inclined his head toward them. He didn’t offer his hand, probably because the guy was wearing his gloves, and his gaze jumped between Bowen and Macey.
“Thanks for the work you’re doing here, Carlisle,” Macey said.
His shoulders jerked a bit. “I just... I want to help, you know?” His voice was a low rumble. “They had families. All of them. People who cared about them—people who wanted them back.” There was grief there, flickering in his gaze.
Dr. Lang squeezed his shoulder. “You are helping,” she assured her assistant. Then she exhaled and straightened her shoulders. “Keep supervising things here for me, would you? I’m going to talk with the agents for a moment.”
Carlisle nodded. He turned back toward the grave.
“Why don’t you walk this way with us, Dr. Lang?” Bowen invited as he motioned to the side of the cabin.
But as they started to pass around the side of the cabin, they nearly collided with Ranger Zack Douglas. The ranger staggered to a quick stop. “I was just coming to look for you, Dr. Lang.” But his gaze darted to Macey and Bowen. “I wanted to see if there was anything I could help with today.” Then he squared his shoulders. “The rangers have been helping to secure the scene. Not our normal type of work, but it seemed like an all-hands-on-deck situation, and these mountains? They are ours.”
But Bowen could see the guilt on the guy’s face. He still blamed himself.
“Give us just a moment, Ranger,” Macey murmured. “We really need to speak privately with Dr. Lang.”
“Oh, right. Sorry.” And then he was hurrying back toward the rear of the cabin.
Toward the graves.
Bowen led them about twenty feet away. He stopped when he was beneath the colorful branches of a yellow birch tree. “How many bodies have you found?”
Dr. Lang frowned. “So far...just thirteen. I’ve been checking the area all around the cabin, spanning out more and more as a precaution—”
“Have you checked here?” Bowen asked her. “And I mean, specifically...right here? Beneath us?”
She blinked and looked down at the ground. “Um, yes. My assistant reviewed this entire area. It’s clear.”
Macey and Bowen shared a hard look.
Then Macey cleared her throat. “We’d like for you to review it again.”
Dr. Lang seemed hesitant but she nodded. “All right. If that’s what you want, but it will take a little time.”
And it did.
But by the time Dr. Lang had finished using her equipment, they’d found another body. A body that was exactly where Peter Carter had said it would be.
Susannah Kaiser was resting beneath the birch tree.
“How did your assistant miss this?” Bowen demanded.
“I—I don’t know...” Amelia was obviously flustered. “I’ll find Carlisle. We’ll ask. Maybe the equipment malfunctioned...”
But they soon realized they couldn’t ask him. Because when they searched the area, Carlisle had vanished.
* * *
“IT’S HIM.”
Macey stared at the picture of Dr. Lang’s assistant Carlisle Adams...and the picture they’d recovered of Wesley Kaiser.
The hair was different...because, as Peter had told them, Wesley had dyed his blond hair.
The face shape was a bit different...because, as Peter had said, Wesley had put on weight.
He’d grown a beard, making his jaw appear stronger. He’d even dyed the beard black, too. He’d used contacts but... That is him.
Carlisle was Wesley Kaiser.
“We have an all-points bulletin out for him now,” Bowen said. He stood to her right, his gaze on Wesley/Carlisle.
“He knew we were going to dig up Susannah.” That was why he’d disappeared in the mountains. “He knew, all along, exactly what Peter had done.” She shook her head. “The hate nails—that’s exactly what they were. With every death, it was about his sister. He was trying to show her to us.”
Bowen raked a hand over his face.
“He doesn’t fit our profile.” That was Tucker speaking. His low voice seemed to hang in the air. He was seated at the conference table, right next to Samantha. “Not exactly. This kid was a mess. Substance abuse, in and out of rehab. The last thing this guy seems to be is organized.”
“We thought we were looking for an older, more seasoned killer. A practiced hunter.” Now Samantha spoke. “But this fellow...he’s young. He’s angry.”
Macey turned to face them. “He actually does fit the profile, in certain ways, at least. He knows the area. Wesley grew up here. He has a desire for vengeance, I think that’s obvious. He’s highly intelligent.”
“I swear,” Tucker muttered, “it’s like we’re looking at a perp with a split personality.”
Yes, Macey could see what he meant. Organized at crime scenes, so very careful, but...
Vengeance driven? Shadowed by addiction?
“And the guy is currently AWOL,” Bowen added grimly. “And that fact alone tells me that we have big fucking trouble. Jonah is still missing, and now Wesley is in the wind.”
Samantha tapped her fingers on the conference table. “Dr. Lang is in interrogation. Macey, I want you to have a run at her.”
Macey nodded as she turned for the door. Exhaustion pulled at her, but, determinedly, Macey pushed it back. She had a job to do. She couldn’t afford weakness. Not right then.
* * *
JONAH TWISTED AGAINST the ropes that bound him. This should never have happened to him. He’d been tied up all damn day. He could barely feel his fingers. Were the FBI agents looking for him? Were they still searching?
Shit, shit, shit. This screwed everything to hell. When he vanished, they would have immediately started digging into his life. And that meant...
They went to my house. They’d know that he’d been hacking at the FBI. But they didn’t understand...he’d just wanted to see what made the other agents so special. He’d wanted to find out what he was doing wrong in his sessions with the shrink. How could he fix things if he didn’t understand the problem first?
It was dark again. The light had vanished from the window. His stomach growled, reminding him that he’d been without food and water all day.
But the ropes...they were starting to give. He could feel it. He’d worked on them long enough. Hard enough. He’d be able to break away soon.
Soon.
The door to his room opened. His prison. A low, long squeak, and his head lifted. He couldn’t see the face of the man before him, there was too much darkness, but he knew he was looking at the bastard who’d ruined everything for him.
“They found my sister today,” the guy told him. And he sounded...happy. “Susannah is finally coming home.”
* * *
“I DIDN’T KNOW!” Dr. Amelia Lang jumped to her feet as soon as Macey stepped into the interrogation room. “I swear, I didn’t know he’d...he’d taken someone else’s name! He came to me as Carlisle. Carlisle Adams was the graduate assistant that had been approved to help me. I never had any reason to suspect otherwise—”<
br />
“We can’t locate the real Carlisle,” Macey told her. “At this point, we fear he may be dead. It’s possible that Wesley murdered him so that he could take the other man’s identity.”
Dr. Lang shook her head. “No, no, no...” Her body seemed to hunch in on itself.
“When did Wesley start working with you?”
Dr. Lang wrapped her arms around her midsection. “About...a month ago? Two? I needed help desperately for a project. He was like a godsend.” She rocked onto her toes. “You think he was involved in...all of this mess, don’t you? Curtis Zale, the police captain—”
“About that,” Macey interrupted smoothly. “You told me before that you saw a man in a police uniform near Agent Murphy’s SUV. You told us that you only saw the back of that individual’s head.”
Dr. Lang quickly nodded. “Yes, yes, he had dark hair and broad shoulders and—” Her eyes became saucers. “It could have been Carlisle—I mean, Wesley. I didn’t even realize...” She hurried back to the table and sat down, hard. She appeared shell-shocked. “The...the night that Captain Harwell died, Car—Wesley wasn’t at the motel. I went there, and I knocked on his door, but he didn’t answer. I just assumed he was sleeping, but now I have to think...he wasn’t there.”
Because he’d been killing Henry Harwell? “Where was he when Daniel Haddox was killed?”
Dr. Lang just blinked at her.
Macey unclenched her back teeth and gave Dr. Lang the specific date of the crime.
“I don’t know. We were on a small fall break at the university. I thought he was taking some time to relax, maybe he’d gone hiking in the mountains...” Her words trailed away. “When I got the call to come to Gatlinburg, I texted him. Told him that I needed him.” Her voice dropped. “And he was here within the hour.”
Because he’d already been there? All along? “You know that FBI Agent Jonah Loxley is missing.”
Dr. Lang’s hands twisted in her lap.
“Where was Wesley last night? When Jonah went missing, where was he?”
Dr. Lang could only shake her head. “I don’t know. I was dead tired. I passed out at the motel, and I don’t remember anything else.”
Not helpful.