by Katee Robert
Emma made a visible effort to nod. “Okay.”
“He doesn’t get to win. If we stop fighting, that means he wins. If we give in to fear, then he’s going to walk. I can’t live with that. Can you?”
“No.” This time the word came out stronger. Surer.
“That’s my girl.” She gave Emma’s shoulders one last squeeze and straightened. “If Britton doesn’t give his full support of this, I won’t go. I want this to end, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to make rash mistakes.” She caught her friend’s look and sighed. “Any more rash mistakes. I did apologize about earlier.”
“I know.” Emma sighed. “I’m sorry. I know I’m not the steadiest under the best of circumstances, but I’m turning into a complete basket case.”
“Considering how things are going lately, I think you’re holding up remarkably well.” It was more or less the truth, too. Emma might be on the verge of a nervous breakdown—they might both be—but she hadn’t curled up in a ball and given up. She was still fighting, albeit in her own way. “We’ll get him, Em.”
“Promise.”
“I promise.” Even as she said the words, she hoped to God she wasn’t lying.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“Are you sure this is something you’re willing to do, Lei?”
Dante held the phone on speaker between them. Half of him wanted Britton to tell Lei this was a mistake and that under no circumstances was she to go to California to talk to her ex, the serial killer. The rest of him knew better than to try to make this decision for her. As much as he wanted to wrap her up and tuck her away somewhere safe until this was all over, that wasn’t the way of things. She had a part to play, whether he liked it or not, and she wouldn’t forgive him for trying to keep her out of it.
It didn’t make it any easier to see her blanch. “I’m sure. I think he’ll say things to me that he wouldn’t say to your agents.”
“I’m inclined to agree with you. There always was a connection between you and Travis. I know it’s not a comfortable thing, but most serial killers move on even if their victim gets away. They rarely take the time and effort to track the survivor down and attempt to finish the job, let alone orchestrate something of this magnitude. While I do believe Emma’s walking out of that house irked him, his true focus has always been you.” Britton didn’t say it like he was apologizing—it was simply a fact.
She wrapped her arms around herself. “If I can help, I’m helping, Britton. This is bigger than my fear. This is about making sure no one else has to identify another girl in the morgue. I’m the only one who can do this, and you know it.”
Britton didn’t sigh, but the sound came across in his tone all the same. “I don’t like it, but there are a lot of things about this case that I don’t like. I’ll book your tickets for tonight.”
Tonight? Lei mouthed.
Dante took over. “I’ll get us on the flight. I have an updated report for you once you’re settled, but Tucker can deliver it.”
“Dante, please take me off speakerphone.”
He exchanged a look with Lei and shrugged. What Britton wanted, Britton got. Dante obeyed and put the phone to his ear. “You’re off speakerphone.”
“Good. I’d like Tucker to stay at the house. The local police are stretched thin as it is, and frankly, they’re not going to do much good parked just out of sight down the driveway. In addition to that, Tucker’s got a way about him that might prompt Emma to share whatever information she’s been withholding to this point.”
“Why do you think there’s information being withheld?”
“Because she’s Emma. Neither of these women deal well with feeling helpless, though they work through it in different ways. Lei sprints toward confrontation, just as she’s doing by agreeing to speak with Travis. Emma, on the other hand, hoards information like a squirrel storing nuts in preparation for winter. It makes her feel more in control, and while I don’t think she’d hold back anything important to this investigation, I can’t guarantee it. Tucker has a better chance than anyone else of getting her to talk about it.”
While Dante didn’t disagree with that, he couldn’t imagine Emma would be okay with the idea of a man staying in her beloved house—especially a man she’d just met. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“I spoke with Detective Smith about Clarke. Her rental car was spotted heading south toward Portland. His response has been less than comforting—he would believe Clarke decided to take an impromptu trip—but I’ve sent two agents down there to see what they can find.”
“Clarke wouldn’t leave an open case, let alone without a word to anyone.”
“I know that. You know that. Everyone who’s ever come in contact with her knows that. Unfortunately, our good detective is overwhelmed, and I think this is the straw that broke the camel’s back.”
He didn’t give a fuck about Smith’s being overwhelmed. Clarke was in danger, and that bastard was willing to pretend it wasn’t an abduction because he was stressed out. “I’m glad you’re here” was all he said. Britton might be a father figure to half the agents in the BAU, but Dante knew better than to spew his emotional bullshit all over his boss. There was no denying how comforting it was to know the man was in his corner—in Clarke’s corner. Britton might not let emotions get the better of him, but no one would accuse him of not caring about the agents under his command.
“I’ll forward you the information about your flights.”
It was a dismissal, so he hung up and turned to Lei. “I guess we’re doing this.”
“I guess we are.” She looked like she might be sick at any moment, but she made a visible effort to straighten, a lean sapling standing in the face of a gale-force wind. Bend or break. Lei glanced at the doorway leading into the office where Emma and Tucker waited. “The longer I wait, the more I’m going to second-guess my sanity. I know in my heart of hearts that this is the right choice, but it doesn’t mean it’s an easy choice.” Something flickered through her dark eyes, and she shivered. “I’m not whole, Dante. I might fake it really well, but there are parts of me missing that I’m never going to reclaim. I’m not even sure I want to at this point.”
He didn’t blink at the apparent change in subject. She’d said something in that vein earlier in the yard, and he hadn’t directly addressed it then. “No one is really whole. We’re all carrying some kind of baggage.”
Her lips quirked up. “Even the perfect unruffled FBI agent?”
“Maybe especially him.”
Knowing she’d be facing the object of her nightmares would be dredging up shit she might have thought was long buried. He offered her information like a life preserver. “I’ve been accused of being a robot more times than I can count. Or Spock. Or more of a sociopath than the monsters I hunt.”
Lei’s eyes went wide. “What?”
“I never set out to emulate my father—the brain surgeon—but whether through conditioning or genetics, holding people at a distance is just what I do. It’s my default. It isn’t because of damage—my childhood was mundane enough despite growing up affluent. It’s just the way I am.”
“I like the way you are.” She held his gaze for a long moment and then looked at the ground. “I don’t think you’re broken. Not like I am.”
Dante shifted closer to her and waited for her to look up at him. “Are you telling me this as a warning for the meeting with Berkley? Or are you trying to warn me off you? Because I’m not sure if you got it from our earlier conversation, but that ship has sailed, Lei.”
She bit her bottom lip, her brow furrowed. “You know, most guys just meet people online or something. They don’t use a murder investigation as a dating service.”
“Don’t. Don’t do that. Don’t cheapen this or make it sound like I’m just out to bag a freak show or whatever fiction you’re currently constructing in your head. I’m interested in you, Lei. More than interested. I would be if we’d met on the street.” He raked a hand over his head. “I’d rathe
r we’d met on a street, because it’d be a whole hell of a lot less complicated than escorting you to California to have a meeting with your serial-killer ex.” He grimaced. “That came out wrong.”
Against all reason, she burst out laughing. “God, you’re right. This is like some kind of sick sitcom. All we need is a damn laugh track and we’re in business.”
As happy as he was to see her looking surer of herself, Dante couldn’t let things stand between them as they currently were. “I do want to see where this goes. After.”
“After,” she agreed. Lei touched him almost hesitantly and ran her hands up his chest. “It’s not just one-sided. I don’t know what to do with this feeling. I don’t exactly have the best track record.”
He covered her hand with his. “We’ll take it one day at a time.” It was all he could offer her. They couldn’t be sure of tomorrow, and he wouldn’t do her the disservice of promising something he had no control over. Dante would do everything in his power to keep Lei safe. Beyond that, it was out of his control.
Doesn’t matter. I’ll figure it out.
She took a steadying breath and smiled. “Life is weird sometimes.”
“Like is most definitely weird.” He kissed her because being this close and not kissing her was as unnatural as breathing underwater. Lei melted against him and slid her arms around his neck, letting him take the lead. Dante kissed one corner of her mouth and then the other, savoring the way her body quivered in response. Her tongue darted out and licked his bottom lip, and that was all the encouragement he needed to turn and press her against the wall.
Lei was fire in his arms, her body lean and strong and in constant motion. She arched against him at the first touch of his tongue to hers, her fingers digging into his shoulders, a silent demand for more. He wanted more, too. He craved hours spent exploring each other and learning what it would take to re-create the little whimper she made when he rolled his hips against hers.
He kissed along her jawline and dragged his mouth down her neck. Dante inhaled deeply, taking in the clean scent of her, and closed his eyes. “We can’t do this now.”
“I know.” She panted lightly, her fingers making little kneading motions on his shoulders. “I know,” she repeated, sounding slightly more in control. “As tempting as it is to drag you upstairs . . .”
He rested his forehead against hers. “I want our first time to be somewhere you’re comfortable enough to let loose. To not have to muffle your moans because you’re afraid of someone overhearing. I don’t want anything holding either of us back. I want it all.”
She shivered. “God, Dante, you’re too tempting for my own good. Yes, I want that. I want all of that.” She took a shuddering breath. “Though I think now might be the time to remind you that we have cameras set up all over this place, so we more than likely have an audience. Again.”
Damn it. He knew that. He did know that. He’d just forgotten in the midst of Lei.
Dante took a breath and then another. “Right. I suppose I should let you off the wall, then.”
“I suppose so.” She sounded amused and totally unafraid for the first time since he’d arrived today, so that was a win even if the situation was less than professional. It hasn’t been strictly professional since I met Lei. He stepped back enough to let her slide down his body. She’d wrapped her legs around his waist at some point, and he mourned the loss of the squeeze of her thighs against his hips.
Lei started to move away from him, but paused. “Dante . . .” She seemed to brace herself. “This isn’t just a convenient sexy distraction. I mean, you’re offering me comfort in the middle of a pretty traumatic situation, but that’s not all this is.”
“I know.”
She smiled. “Good.”
Things went quickly after that. Privately, Lei would have liked to talk this damn situation to death, if only to keep from having to do what she’d promised for a little longer. But the decision was made, the tickets were purchased, and she had packed an overnight bag into her Jeep. Emma remained closeted in her office—she’d never been one for good-byes—but Tucker stood on the porch, watching her and Dante closely. “You sure about this?”
“Too late to worry about it now.” Lei double-checked to make sure she had everything she needed in her wallet.
For his part, Dante had been quiet since they’d made out in the hallway like horny teenagers. She flushed to think of it. She was used to handling stress, though admittedly she’d never been under quite as much stress as she had been lately, and Lei had never thrown herself at a man the way she kept throwing herself at Dante. The only thing saving her pride was the fact that he couldn’t seem to control himself any better than she could.
That he wanted more as much as she did—in a way that had nothing to do with sex.
She glanced at him, but he was having some kind of silent communication with Tucker. Taking a hint, Lei climbed into the Jeep and closed the door, giving them the illusion of privacy. She glanced at her phone and found a text from Emma. I’m no good at good-byes.
She typed out a quick response. It’s only for twenty-four hours. I’ll be back close to this time tomorrow.
I feel like something bad is going to happen.
She stared at her phone. It would be easy to say something pat or comforting and push off Emma’s fears. It was something she’d done time and time again over the years. Emma let fear dictate her moves . . . But hadn’t Lei done the same thing, if using a different method? She might not hide, but she was reactionary when it came to something that made her afraid. In the end, who was the smarter of the two?
She didn’t have an answer to that any more than she had comfort to give Emma right now. The same dread apparent in her friend’s text had been building in her ever since she’d volunteered to see Travis again. Rationally, she knew he was locked up, but that hadn’t stopped him from reaching across time and distance to strike at them here in Washington. It didn’t matter if it was his hand doing the damage or not—he was behind this. No one could convince her otherwise.
Still, she needed to respond. If it does, we’ll deal with it. Stay safe.
You too.
She set her phone down as Dante rounded the front of the Jeep and slid into the passenger seat. Lei glanced at him. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Tucker’s not too impressed with my lack of professionalism with you. I might be written up for it once Britton finds out, but . . .” He shrugged. “It’s worth it.”
She didn’t know what to think of that. No, that was a lie. A wisp of pleasure coursed through her at the realization that he was effectively putting her before the job. Even knowing him such a short time, she realized what a novelty that was. Dante was so by the book, it would have been funny under other circumstances.
As they turned off her driveway and onto the narrow highway, he pulled a laptop out of his bag. “I have to write an updated report with the information we have from the last twenty-four hours.”
“Go for it.” She was talked out, to be perfectly honest. Round and round and round they’d gone, over and over again. None of it made any difference. What did it matter if Travis wasn’t acting according to his profile? He was behind bars. He might be responsible, at least in part, but the profile they needed to be focusing on was the current killer’s.
She let herself relax as much as she was capable of as they drove through the winding pass and down into the greater Seattle area. The tickets were on Dante’s phone now, so she headed straight for the airport. Straight for Travis. Lei’s skin crawled, but she ignored the sensation of tiny ants marching across her arms as best she could. The choice was made. Now all that was left was to live through it.
Dante didn’t talk much as they parked and made their way into Sea-Tac airport. Lei wasn’t exactly a nervous flier, but there was something about going through the extra security that set her teeth on edge. She hated feeling like she’d done something wrong, but that was her issue, not the TSA’s.
; For all that, the security line moved quickly enough, and they made it to their gate with plenty of time to spare. Lei dropped into an open seat and sighed. “At least that’s over until the flight back tomorrow.”
“How are you doing?”
She glanced over to find Dante actually looking at her for the first time in almost two hours. “I could ask you the same thing. You’re kind of checked out.”
He hesitated, and she could actually see him considering whether to let her in or not. Finally, he sat next to her. “I’m worried about Clarke. Detective Smith isn’t taking her disappearance seriously for whatever damn reason, and even with Britton in Seattle, he can only do so much without local police support.” He glanced out the window at the plane currently taking off. “Every hour a person is missing heightens the chance they end up dead. If she’s not already . . .” He shook his head. “Clarke and I have been partners for three years. We’re friends. I trust her with my life, and she does the same with me—and I wasn’t there when she needed me.”
He’d been with Lei instead. She reached out and laced her fingers through his. Comfort wasn’t her forte, whether physical or verbal, so she tried to picture how she’d want someone to talk to her if their situations were reversed. “The chance this isn’t connected is a whole lot less than the chance that it is.”
“I think so, too.”
She tried to picture the timeline. “It’s possible he left the house and started back for Seattle but changed his mind for some reason and turned around.” That rest station was twenty minutes from the house, maybe a little more. Honestly, it didn’t make sense that Clarke had stopped there instead of pushing through. She frowned. “Why was she at the rest station to begin with?” Maybe that was a more important question than how the killer had known she’d be there.