That was one of the hardest parts for Malachi—the lack of information.
This was his longest running unsolved case since his entrance into the FBI. The one bastard who’d eluded him the longest and he’d targeted Malachi. What did that say about Malachi’s abilities?
What kind of personality was he dealing with here?
Knight knocked on his office door and Malachi waved him in. They’d known each other for years—had worked together since the beginning of Malachi’s time in St. Louis almost five years ago. Before that they’d worked together a time or two. He liked Knight, and respected him as an agent. “Allan, how many weeks has it been?”
“About two weeks give or take. Your Thanksgiving party.” The day he and Julia had been kidnapped and taken to that North St. Louis basement. “How have you been? Any indications who it was?”
“I’ve been fine. And he’s still out there. In fact, I have a few questions for you that might help me. That victim you had transferred to our M.E.—indications are she was killed by the same guy.”
Knight nodded. “I figured as much when I saw the card.”
“Card?”
“I sent it over with all the evidence my team and the CSU team collected at the scene. A business card for a Dr. J. Bellows was found near the woman’s head. I called ahead, but your Dr. Bellows was out of her office, I think.” Knight settled into the chair in front of Mal’s desk. “I found it concerning. I would have called you myself but I was pulled away for one of my own cases.”
Malachi picked up his desk phone and dialed the forensics lab supervisor. Dr. Brewster answered. Mal requested the card be brought to his office immediately and the supervisor agreed.
“Allan, tell me everything that stood out to you. Where was she found?”
As he listened to Knight share all the details the other man had, once again Malachi was doomed to disappointment. Knight had no more than he had—because there wasn’t anything else to go on.
Someone out there was playing this game with Malachi, and Malachi didn’t even know where the board started or ended. Or who was now playing. He had a nasty feeling the game was getting far more personal.
Paige had been sent two pieces after the attack on her, and Malachi knew those pieces were meant to come to him. And now Julia had been targeted to find a piece, from a new set. That would eventually have come to him.
Dammit, why did it all have to circle around him? What had he done to pull this guy’s notice? What had he missed?
A tentative knock sounded on his door fifteen minutes after Knight left. He barely resisted the urge to bark at the intrusion. When the knocker entered, he was glad he’d refrained.
Julia was pale, but he could see a spark of determination in her pretty, pretty eyes. “I finished with Jane Doe. Do you have any leads on her?”
“Not yet. What’s your impression?”
“Someone will be looking for this woman. The manicure was expensive, the hair treated with some of the best coloring on the market, and though she was far too thin according to my charts, she was toned in a way that told me she took care of herself—probably through a gym membership.” She sank into the chair farthest from his desk, and Malachi wondered at it. Was she that apprehensive of him?
“I’ve missed you.” He said the words softly, then watched as she bristled. She hadn’t expected that, then.
“How could you? We’re colleagues, nothing more.”
“Friends who’ve spent several days alone together. Who’ve even slept together in several ways.”
“You having those delusions again?” There was heat in her tone, but not much. She was worried, wasn’t she? “I think you should seek medication for that.”
“Julia…look at me. Something is bothering you. And it brought you to me. What gives?” With everything he had he wanted to stand up, round his desk, and pull the stubbornly infuriating woman into his arms. Kiss her as thoroughly as he possibly could.
Hazel eyes stared directly at him. Her words were blunt, almost harsh. “Should I be worried about mine and Ruthie’s safety because of a wackjob playing this macabre game with you?”
He stared back at her for a long moment, angry with himself and the bastard responsible for involving her in this. Angry that he couldn’t give her the answer he—or she—wanted. “I don’t know. I don’t know if he’s targeted you or Paige or anyone else I care about. He never targeted anyone I’ve known before. But then again he’d never brought it right to my front door before either. Always before he’s been at a distance. Out of reach.”
“Out of the catching zone. You’ll find him. An 86% solve rate for your team isn’t chump change. But in the meantime, what do I need to do? I won’t be a victim of a crazy dude again.” She brushed a hand against the scar at her temple—the only visible reminder of Roger Stephenson’s attack so many months ago. “I won’t. Especially with Ruthie in the picture now. I’ll be damned sure to protect her.”
Like she had Matthew. He’d never forget what he’d felt when Hell had mentioned how he’d found Julia unconscious, her body in front of the cabinet where little Matthew had been hiding the day Roger Stephenson kidnapped Georgia. Malachi had been in Georgia’s former townhome so many times, he had no difficulty at all imagining the scene.
And he understood how the woman in front of him would feel about failing to protect the ones she loved completely. Because that failure was the same he felt. “Let me come home with you tonight.”
“What?” She practically squeaked the question, her eyes widening. “Are you freaking insane? How exactly would I explain that to Ruthie? And what could you do that I couldn’t, anyway?”
The question hung on the air between them. He answered slowly, not looking away from her. “Be there. As an added buffer between you and this guy.” Be there, to protect her and Ruthie with every breath he had.
“Or bring him to us. Have you considered that he’s just messing with us—if he is—because of you? That we’re incidental to him?” She leaned forward, and Malachi gave his damnedest try at not looking down the gap between the edges of her scrubs neckline. He found the hint of femininity this little wasp exuded far more alluring than anything any other female had tried on him. And he’d had plenty of his share of female attention. Did she even have a clue how he felt? Other than the sexual heat between them that he knew she was aware of between them?
And dammit, how long had he felt this way? Since Thanksgiving, since before? Was that why he’d been so drawn to her from the very first time they’d met in South Dakota so many months ago? Had it just taken them being kidnapped together before he allowed his feelings for her free? Was that why he’d felt the need to, well, aggravate her? Was he like a schoolboy pulling her damned braids? “Yes. I have considered that. But what if he decides to take that one step farther, and make you one of his victims? He sent Paige the white king and queen. With our faces. Making you the queen means you’ve moved up in the game.”
“And what exactly does that mean for me?” Though her expression was neutral he could hear the fear in her words.
“I don’t know. Those were frosted glass pieces, and usually the last pieces lost in a game. And they were the thirty-first and –second pieces I’d received. Equal amounts black and white. This is carved wood from an entirely different set.”
“So he’s started a new game with Jane Doe.”
It would all begin again. Mal felt sick at the implications, at the inevitable loss of life the UNSUB would be responsible for. “I think so. And once again, I don’t know where the board even is.”
Warm fingers wrapped around his arm. He looked into her pretty, pretty eyes. Compassion, understanding, even grief for him was there. “You’ll find it. Find him. I don’t doubt that Malachi Perfect Brockman will succeed.”
“Thanks. And it stands for Perry.” When had she started calling him by the nickname his siblings had thrust upon him in childhood?
“I know. But Perfect seems to fit a little better.
” Her words were rueful when she looked at him.
He was just happy she hadn’t pulled away yet. Malachi rested his chin on her hair, just breathing the scent of Julia in. “No, it doesn’t.”
“Mmmm. Guess you just don’t see it.” She finally pulled away, and he liked to imagine it was with some reluctance. “I can’t just take you home with me like a big guard dog. Not with Ruthie...I need stability for her. Not a man who looks at me the way you do.”
He didn’t have to like it, but he understood it. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t assign an extra security detail to her house. As soon as she left his office that was exactly what he did.
Chapter Forty-One
* * *
She’d spotted the security detail ten minutes after she swung by the baby-sitter’s and collected Ruthie. Malachi’s mother had volunteered to watch Ruthie once she’d learned that Rosa hadn’t been able to take on the added responsibility of a preschooler. The offer had come the second time Jules had taken Ruthie to church and it had come in the nick of time.
Jules would be eternally grateful to Meredith for the way she’d helped her out. And Ruthie loved it at Meredith and Kenneth’s house so far. Both had retired recently and it was a wonderful place for Ruthie to spend her days.
The security detail was right there waiting on Meredith and Kenneth’s street when she loaded Ruthie into the car. Jules shut the door and crunched through the snow to the standard issue Bureau sedan. She’d recognize a Bureau vehicle anywhere.
She tapped on the driver’s window, and it rolled down. A young agent she vaguely recognized was driving. “Dr. Bellows, ma’am.”
“Agent...Richards, isn’t it?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She looked past him. “And your partner?”
The young woman nodded. “SA Chloe Edmond, ma’am.”
Ma’am. Gah. She was a ma’am now. “Nice to meet you. So...whose orders?”
“Dr. Brockman’s, ma’am. He said there is a potential threat to you and your daughter. We’re here to ensure your safety. If you have any questions or need anything, we’ll be here for twelve hours. Our relief will be Josiah Geoffries, and Jack Fields. Are you familiar with them?” Richards looked past her shoulder at the second Bureau SUV that just pulled in.
Jules looked, too, not surprised at all to see her very own Galahad stepping out of the vehicle. “Yes, I’ve met both of them a time or two. Thank you. I’m sure Dr. Brockman is being overly cautious, but I appreciate your time and diligence.”
And she should have known he would have the last word. Hands on her hips, she crossed the short driveway and stomped through the snow until she was close enough to see the resolve in blue eyes. Yep, she should have known...
“I suppose it’s a compromise.”
He grinned. “Something like that.” Then he sobered. “It was all I could think of that I thought you’d allow. Stubborn ass woman.”
“You know, you can’t always protect the entire world.” But a man like him would certainly try. Was that such a bad thing? She felt a softening toward him yet again. Damn him.
“But I can do my damnedest to protect the people I care about.”
“So did you follow me here, too? Or is it just coincidence?”
“Pure coincidence.” He leaned closer, then tightened her blue knit scarf—a present from his mother—around her neck and chin. “I’m here to tell my parents I’m adding a detail to them, as well.”
Her breath caught. She hadn’t thought…they could be targets of this madman, too. “Do you think it’s that necessary? Or are you just being overly cautious?”
“Meredith Drive. That woman this morning was found on Meredith Drive as a body dump. The location was significant.” He walked her to her car, then opened it for her. “I know the UNSUB is sending me a message.”
Jules shivered, and it wasn’t from the January cold. “He’s coming after you, isn’t he? Through everyone else. Keeping you guessing so you’ll never know who to protect or where to focus.” Because he knew Malachi well enough to know where to strike to hurt him the most.
“I don’t know what he’s planning to do. But he’s making the game much more personal than I am willing to risk.”
His mother opened the front door and called to him. Jules waited until he responded to his mother then turned back to her before speaking. “I need to get Ruthie home. I have my weapon; I can start carrying.” Jules had been one of the top in her class at Quantico. She and Georgia had first met when they were roommates during training. But just because Jules had the training didn’t mean she wanted to have to use it. She was a forensic pathologist first, agent far, far second. But the fact that she knew how to defend herself had her breathing a little easier. But not too easy. She’d seen far too many women as victims to take it lightly. Especially for herself. And Ruthie.
“Carry it. Watch your back, and call me if you suspect anything out of the ordinary, understand?” He surprised her by tugging her knit hat down around her ears. She couldn’t miss the worry in his words, on his face.
Of course she would. She wasn’t stupid. And she told him that. He started to say something back, when both their phones started ringing.
Hazel eyes met blue. They both knew what it most likely meant.
Three minutes later Jules handed a not-very-happy little girl back over to Malachi’s mother. Ruthie cried and reached for her, but Meredith reassured the little girl over and over until Jules was in Malachi’s SUV. None of them liked it, but there was no real choice in the matter.
Jules sat in the SUV, shaking and upset. Was it fair, what she was doing to Ruthie? Getting her, and then leaving her with strangers while she worked?
Millions of children had mothers who worked. Millions.
Was it always this hard to leave them?
Malachi’s hand covered her knee as he drove to the address Mia had given her via telephone. “Ruthie will be ok. Mom can handle anything any child can dish out. She survived Al and Mick, after all. And they were horrible children.”
“I know. And she loves it at your parents. But I still feel like I’m abandoning her. Did you see her face?” Jules felt her own eyes tear up like Ruthie’s had.
“Yeah. I did. And I also know she’ll be ok, Mommy. Are you sure you will?”
“Don’t you worry, lughead. I can handle myself.”
His warm hand on her leg was nice. But Jules still sniffled.
Chapter Forty-Two
* * *
Julia took charge of the scene the minute she arrived, not giving the local LEOs a chance to insist it was theirs by right. Which technically, it was. At this point. This victim was not a federal case, yet. Malachi watched her accomplish the feat and he fought another surge of admiration—and irritation. She was silently stubborn, able to get her way in all things without any outward appearance of dominating obstinacy.
In this case, her ability worked for him, but he knew that wouldn’t always be the way it was in the future. Maybe he should just plan on giving Julia her way in the little things? Would that make their lives a little bit smoother?
Possibly. But then again, he enjoyed seeing her eyes spark at him with temper, loved watching her lips press together in her irritation, loved how her body nearly vibrated with energy when she was angry with him. Why would he want to deny himself those things?
“We really shouldn’t be here yet,” she said after they first flashed their IDs at the deputies surrounding the scene. “Locals have jurisdiction.”
“At times, it’s better to ask forgiveness than permission.” He quoted as they walked across the pavement, flashing badges at rookie local officers in their path.
“Yeh. I’ve heard that one before. Do you think this is him?”
“Yes. I’ve seen this scene before. Stay close to me, sweetheart.” He fought the natural inclination he had to pull her to his side and keep her there, with his own body between her and any possible threat. When had this need started to consume him?
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Was this how Hellbrook had felt about Georgia? He was finally starting to understand all the nuances and burning emotions his friend had possessed for Julia’s best friend—and he understood how Hell must have felt knowing Georgia was a possible target of Travis Byrum so many months ago.
He’d make damned certain no one harmed Julia again. No one.
The body was a man—they could see that from where they were walking. Malachi knew what they’d find when they got close enough. The victim would resemble all the other male victims. White. Mid-to-late thirties. Well-groomed, expensive suit, and clean hands. Professional hands, not those of blue collar employment.
This man would be identified sooner rather than later—ID most likely made by a spouse or girlfriend after only a day or two of being missing. Men like this were always identified, and quickly. It was another piece of the victimology puzzle. The killer always chose men of a certain socioeconomic status—businessmen who were successful in their fields. Men who had attractive wives or girlfriends, men who were loved. Men who would be missed by their women, their parents, their children.
She ignored the locals and approached the victim, stopping beside a young male leaning over the body. Malachi vaguely recognized him as an intern with the county M.E. He’d met the intern before. And so, apparently, had Julia. She and the younger man spoke a moment, then he stepped back, clearing the way for Julia. So there would be no issue from that department. He’d noticed it before, everyone in the forensic pathology field they ran into respected Dr. Julia Bellows and her work. And stepped aside for her easily. Exceptionally easy.
It was just a matter of time until she was at the very top of her field. He felt pride for her and admiration at her accomplishments.
Malachi hoped the approaching detectives felt the same. He sized them up quickly. He put himself between them and Julia, and nodded. “Detectives. Sorry you got called out on this one.” He flashed his badge at the two men, then passed each a business card with his contact information printed on it next to the Bureau emblem. “This is part of an ongoing investigation for us.”
HUNTING (PAVAD) Page 15