Web of Deceit

by Susan Sleeman

  “Stop it, Kait.” Sam gripped the arm of her chair and spun her toward him. He got in her face until she looked at him. “You had no reason to suspect a tail, and you sure as shootin’ can’t go through life feeling paranoid.”

  “But I—”

  “Shh.” He pressed his fingers to her lips. “I won’t hear you take responsibility for this, too. You’re not to blame for any of it. Rhodes is behind it all.”

  “Right,” she replied, though she couldn’t put any conviction into her voice.

  “Let’s not focus on how you feel, but look at the details in the pictures. Maybe you’ll see something that will give us a lead. That’s the best way to repay Rhodes.”

  She turned back to the computer, but no matter how hard she tried to concentrate, she kept seeing her life through Fenton’s eyes, and Sam’s earlier warning finally rang true.

  Fenton was eventually coming after her. If she wasn’t prepared, she, too, would wind up chained to a floor, unable to move while Fenton rode off into the sunset with Lily.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  FEELING USELESS, Sam paced in the walkway behind Kait and Nina’s cubicles. The pictures held nothing of value, so they’d moved on to searching ViCAP. Kait hunted for blown lungs while Nina input the other criteria.

  The search was going slowly—too slowly—with Rhodes breathing down their necks.

  Marcie had called with Youngblood’s official time of death, confirming that they now had precisely seventeen hours before Rhodes killed again. Sam tried to shrug off the tension, but Kait’s frantic strokes on the keyboard had made him antsy, and he couldn’t stand still.

  “Got one,” she called out.

  He rushed back to her cubicle to find her pointing at the picture on the monitor of a thirty-something male. “Died seven months ago in Salt Lake City. About Fenton’s height and weight. Looks like him, too.”

  Sam scanned the case details. “Victim was a computer programmer.”

  Kait nodded. “And Fenton hails from Salt Lake City.”

  “You think he might have moved back there to stay with his family?”

  “He has no living family members,” Kait said, turning to look up at Sam. “His mother took off when he was a kid and died of an overdose a few years later. His father died a year and a half ago. He had no siblings, which would leave him to inherit the family house, but he never showed up to claim it. So, the city foreclosed on the property and put it up for sale. I personally knocked on the door of the people who bought the place to be sure there was no connection to the Rhodes family.”

  Sam didn’t doubt she’d knocked, and he assumed she’d also run a thorough background check on the family. As consumed as she was with finding Rhodes, she’d have delved into even a hint of a lead.

  “What about friends?” Sam asked.

  “None that I know of. After Abby died, Nina and I spent a lot of time in Salt Lake City. We went all the way back to Fenton’s childhood, and he was a loner then, too. The only person who remembered him very well was his high school technology teacher, but she said Fenton didn’t talk to anyone. Not even the other techies.”

  Not surprising. “But you still think he might have gone back to Salt Lake?”

  “If he was hiding out to lick his wounds and plan his revenge, it’d be easier to do so in a familiar place.”

  “It would also be easier to get caught there.”

  “True.” She tapped the screen. “But this guy died seven months ago, and Fenton could have waited to return to Salt Lake until then. The official investigation had ended long before that, and he wouldn’t have been worried about us.”

  “It’s worth following up on.” Sam snapped his phone from his belt. “Print out the detective’s information for me, and I’ll give him a call while you keep searching.”

  Kait started the printer, then turned back to the screen. Sam stepped away to make his call without disturbing Kait’s concentration. He got the detective’s voicemail and left a message requesting a return call and a faxed or e-mailed copy of the case file. As he hung up he heard Nina shout, “I may have something, too.”

  By the time Sam got back to them, Kait was leaning over Nina’s cubicle. She’d taken the clip out of her hair, letting it softly fall over her shoulders. Her blouse had come loose from her waistband. She looked a bit disheveled, and he liked the less-than-perfect version of her. Made her seem as if she could lose control and act on the feelings the two of them had bottled up.

  He stepped up next to her. She tossed her hair back, sending a hint of vanilla into the air. He was even more aware of her and had to put distance between them. He sidestepped her cubicle and moved closer to Nina who was studying him.

  “What did you find?” he asked pointedly, to shift her focus.

  She crossed her legs and leaned forward. “A sudden heart failure with trachea abrasion of a thirty-four year old man in Denver.”

  “Let me guess,” he said. “Fits Congdon’s height and weight and even looks a bit like him?”

  “What do you think?” She turned her screen to face him.

  Sam let out a low whistle. “I think Rhodes did indeed have a few dress rehearsals.”

  “The guy worked in tech support like Congdon,” Nina went on. “When he didn’t report back to work after his vacation, the supervisor went to his house. Found him on the floor in his office. The ME discovered the trachea abrasion, but didn’t find any drugs in his system.”

  “Doesn’t rule him out, though.” Kait’s voice was filled with conviction. “Marcie said finding rocuronium in a body after a few days could go either way.”

  “No need to convince me.” Nina smiled. “Sounds like a viable lead to me.”

  Sam got the detective’s phone number from the screen and entered it into his phone. “I’ll talk to the detective. Plus I’ll issue a multi-state broadcast in the event we missed any other suspicious deaths fitting our criteria.”

  Kait shot him a surprised look. “You really think there are more?”

  “Rhodes clearly has no qualms about killing, and these victims might just be the tip of the iceberg,” Sam replied, though at the raw pain taking over the enthusiasm in Kait’s eyes, he wished he’d kept his big mouth shut.

  SAM REMOVED THE Texas-style pizza loaded with chicken, jalapeños, and red peppers from Kait’s oven. His mouth watered despite the tension in the air. He glanced at Kait who sat at the counter flipping through the police files they’d received via fax.

  After they’d located two additional cases that fit their criteria, one in Minneapolis and one in New Mexico, she’d wanted to stay at the office and work through the night, but he wouldn’t let her. They both needed a meal and at least a few hours of sleep. He’d been forced to agree to let her bring the files home, but at some point, he fully intended to take them away from her and slip them under the cushions on the sofa. She’d have to roust him to gain access, because he also intended to sleep there tonight and every night until Rhodes was locked behind bars.

  Sam rolled the cutter through the thick dough. “Come and get it.”

  Kait looked up and smiled. “I didn’t think I could eat anything, but it smells so incredible. You’ll have to fight me off to get any.” She closed the files and stacked them neatly on the corner of the island.

  Good. He’d thought he’d have to force her to set them aside. “Let’s eat on your deck.”

  Her smile fell.

  Idiot. Remind her of Rhodes’s phone call, why don’t you. “I didn’t mean to make you think about this morning.”

  “It’s okay,” she said. “Being here doesn’t take much to get me thinking about Fenton. The only spot in the house that’s free of him is my bedroom.”

  He gave her a fiendish smile. “If that means you’re inviting me into your—”

  “Ho
ld up, sport.” She flipped up a hand. “Pizza on the deck will be just fine.”

  He was glad to see her humor had partially returned. After the photos, he’d thought she might never smile again. “Why don’t you take our plates out, and I’ll bring the drinks?”

  “Let me guess. Now you’re trying to get me drunk.” She winked at him.

  The lighthearted grin that followed kicked his pulse into gear. “Trust me,” he said, letting his eyes lock on hers. “If I ever try to get you drunk or really try to get into your bedroom, you’ll know about it.” He expected her to run the other way. Instead, a shy smile flitted across her mouth.

  She nibbled on her lower lip as she picked up the plates. He had to turn away before he snaked an arm around her, jerked her close, and soundly kissed her. He planted his hands on the cool granite and waited until he heard her step outside. He took a few deep breaths, something he’d found himself doing way too often around her. He should leave her to eat alone before he acted on his feelings and then regretted it.

  “You waiting for that wine to ferment?” she called from the doorway.

  “Be right out,” he replied, and poured a glass of the hearty Merlot for her.

  He took a long drag on his ice-cold beer, then joined her on the deck. A soft breeze brought the sweet fragrance of jasmine onto the deck, but his mind stubbornly clung to the scent of her shampoo.

  She’d sunk into a plush dining chair at a small glass table. He set her wine in front of her. She’d placed his pizza at the seat next to her, but he needed space between them. Lots of space. The whole state of Texas space.

  He slid his plate across the table, garnering a questioning look from her, but he ignored it and sat. They ate in silence for a while, both avoiding eye contact. It was awkward and tense, and Sam couldn’t stand it. Even stilted small talk was better than this.

  “Did you get a chance to phone your mom or Lily today?” he asked, grasping at any safe topic.

  She nodded as she chewed.

  “They get settled all right?”

  “Fine.” She picked up her wine glass and took a sip. “They made cookies, and Mom said the house was clean enough.”

  “A win-win then.”

  She frowned again. “If you can say putting your parents and niece in a safe house is a win at all.”

  A cell phone chimed from inside, and she looked at him.

  He patted his pocket. “I have mine.”

  She rushed inside to answer, though he couldn’t help but wonder if she was more rushing away from the tension charging the air between them. In truth, he was thankful for the call giving him time to clear his head. But it wouldn’t clear. Not a bit.

  He kept seeing her after the emotional onslaught of the pictures. Then her resolve surfaced, her shoulders straight and rigid again. Her control back in place, as usual. Ready to tackle ViCAP and find anything to bring Rhodes in. She possessed tenacity in boatloads, and he valued her as a partner in this investigation. Unfortunately, he was beginning to value her in too many other ways and having her around was clouding his thoughts

  Twining up her hair, she returned to her chair. The breeze caught strands she’d missed, blowing them softly against her slender neck and tempting Sam to action. He slugged down the last of his beer and waited for her to tell him about the call.

  “That was Nina.” She snapped a clip in her hair and let her hands fall to her lap. “Quinn got a look at Fenton’s medical records. X-rays show fractures consistent with childhood abuse.”

  He watched her for a moment, gauging how the news was affecting her. All he could see was a surprising wave of sadness. “You feeling bad for him?”

  “What?” Her eyes flashed wide. “No! Never! I was thinking about Abby, and wondering if he ever hit her. I never saw any signs of abuse, but he’s a monster, so it stands to reason he probably hit her, too.” She wrapped her arms around her stomach and sat staring into the distance.

  Shoot. She didn’t need another thing to eat away at her. And he didn’t need another reason to want to offer comfort. For that very reason, he would move on.

  “Quinn find anything else?” he asked, but Kait was lost in thought. “Kait?”

  She looked up, her sadness deeper. “What?”

  He fisted his hands. “The SEAL. He learn anything else about Rhodes?”

  She nodded. “A portable ventilator went missing from a Navy base a little over a year ago.”

  He ran through the dates of the victims they’d discovered tonight. “About the time of the New Mexico killing.”

  She swirled the wine in her glass. “You’re thinking Fenton stole the vent and traveled to New Mexico to claim his first victim.”

  “Then headed to Minneapolis, Denver, and Salt Lake City before coming here.”

  “If you’re right, then he must have thought moving from state to state would make it harder to catch him, and it has.”

  “So, other than Salt Lake City, any guesses on how he chose the other locations?”

  “Maybe by the people he friended online. Something we can try to track.” Kait thumbed through her phone. “Jae was still at the office when we left. I’ll text her to add the cities to narrow the focus of her research.”

  Sam chewed on pizza that now tasted like sawdust and watched her. He’d run into motivated family members in his homicide investigations, but never anyone like Kait. If they didn’t find Rhodes, or he didn’t kill her, she’d go to her grave feeling guilty for losing her sister. Now, she added Congdon and Youngblood to that list. She’d likely assume guilt for every victim they located. Not a good way to live.

  When she got off the phone, he set down his pizza and looked her in the eye. “I meant what I said at the office. You’re not to blame for any of this, Kait. You need to let it go before it destroys you.”

  She arched a brow. “You mean the same way you’ve let go of the guilt over your former partner?”

  He felt bad for letting her think Stacie’s death continued to haunt him, but he’d never told anyone about his final argument with Hannah, and he didn’t know how to start. Besides, what was the point? He couldn’t do anything about it.

  “C’mon, admit it,” she went on. “You’re as eaten up with it as I am about Rhodes, and your every decision is motivated by it.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” he said, still avoiding spilling his guts. “Maybe you’re projecting your own guilt onto me.”

  “Maybe,” she said. “But I don’t think so. We’re a lot alike, Sam. And if the person who killed your partner wasn’t dead, you’d be doing the same thing I’m doing right now.”

  He felt like a heel for not clarifying that his issues were all about his wife and son, but Kait had enough to deal with without feeling sorry for him, too.

  At least, that sounded like a good enough reason to keep his mouth shut.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  IF KAIT WAS GOING to be at her best tomorrow, she needed to sleep, but she couldn’t manage it. She’d tried everything. Counting sheep, imagining herself in a happy place, even deep breathing. None of them worked.

  With a groan, she climbed out of bed and paced, hoping to eliminate the thoughts buzzing in her head like a mosquito looking for blood. Her mind refused to clear. It remained consumed with thoughts of Lily. Not for her safety—she was with top-notch agents and the decorated officer Sam insisted join them. Lily would be fine. But it was Fenton’s serial killer status that was keeping Kait awake. What would happen when Lily grew older and became curious about her birth parents?

  Kait would make sure she knew all about Abby, but what should she do about Fenton? News was everywhere these days, and lived on the Internet forever. Lily would surely find posts about these murders. Maybe see the video tape from the TV story this morning. And she’d discover that her father was not only a ser
ial killer, but a taker of hearts. A monster.

  Then what? What kind of damage would having a psychopathic killer as a father do to her niece?

  Thinking about it was almost more than Kait could bear. She had to do something to free her mind. Painting. She could get started on the dining area to blow off this nervous energy then get the sleep she needed.

  She jumped into a pair of jeans and an old T-shirt, then padded toward the door leading to the garage. Moonlight filtered through the large overhead window, the soft, hazy light landing on Sam. He was stretched out on the sofa, one arm flung over his eyes, his bare feet hanging over the end. She listened for telltale signs that he was sleeping, but the man didn’t snore. Didn’t even breathe deeply. Another positive in a list far longer than his negatives, making it hard for her not to think about what it would be like to be in a relationship with him.

  Something else to work out with a paintbrush.

  She tiptoed to the door and input the first number of her alarm code. The resulting beep sounded through the space.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Sam said before she touched the second button.

  Startled, she spun. He was sitting at the end of the couch, his weapon drawn.

  “It’s just me,” she said, trying to catch her breath.

  “I know who it is.”

  “Then why the gun?”

  “Ever heard of being prepared?” He sounded angry. “Never know what might happen when you open that door without thorough recon first—which you did not do. Not to mention when you hightail it out of here while you think I’m sleeping.” He stood and holstered his weapon. “Mind sharing where you’re headed at this time of night? Alone?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but I couldn’t sleep, and I was going to do some painting. I didn’t want to wake you.”

  “I wasn’t sleeping.” He approached her. He’d removed his dress shirt and wore a white V neck T-shirt. A thick chain trailed down the vee. A lovely, musky, manly scent clung to him. Even in the dim light, his toned muscles were visible. His belt lay on the table, and his jeans rode on his hips.