Killer Exposure

by Lara Lacombe

  “Me, too,” she said, giving his shirt an experimental tug.

  He laughed softly. “You need to recover.”

  “I can recover much faster if you’re distracting me from the pain.”

  Owen’s reply was drowned out by the sound of an exaggerated cough from the doorway. Hannah turned to find Nate standing just inside the room, his cheeks as red as a fire truck.

  “Uh, I can come back if this isn’t a good time.”

  Owen straightened and ran a hand down the front of his shirt to smooth out the wrinkled evidence of her grip. “No, you’re fine. Come on in.” He stood and gestured for Nate to sit in the nearby chair.

  Nate shot her an apologetic glance as he moved into the room. “What happened to you?”

  “I picked a fight with a car and lost,” she replied. It was a lame attempt at humor, but she hoped it would lighten the awkward mood. Nate laughed weakly, shaking his head.

  “Do you know who did it?” His eyes cut to Owen, who shook his head.

  “I came on the scene just after it happened. Called in the make and model, didn’t get any plates.”

  “Damn,” Nate muttered. “I don’t suppose you got a look at the driver?”

  It was Hannah’s turn to shake her head. “No. There was too much glare on the windshield—I couldn’t see inside the car.”

  Nate merely nodded, as if he’d expected that answer. Then he turned to Owen. “Same guy?”

  “Hell of a coincidence,” Owen replied.

  “And you don’t like coincidences,” Nate finished.

  With growing amusement, Hannah watched the two of them continue to talk. Did they even realize their conversation was all but indecipherable to an outsider? She could follow because the events had happened to her, but if she had just walked into the room, she’d be lost. Must be a cop thing, she decided. No, she amended after another moment. Must be a partner thing.

  “I haven’t even told you the best part yet,” Nate said, digging in his pocket for his phone. His finger tapped the screen, then he flipped the phone around to show Owen. “Check it out.”

  Owen’s brows drew together as he stared at the image on the screen. “What is this?”

  “It’s a flyer I found at the free clinic advertising an asthma study. Notice how there’s just a strip of phone numbers at the bottom?”

  “Sure.”

  “I compared it to all the other medical-study advertisements at the clinic, and talked to some of the clinic staff. Apparently, medical studies have to be approved by an advisory board, and that approval has to be displayed prominently on the advertising, along with information about the hospital or university conducting the study.”

  “I don’t see anything like that here.”

  “Exactly!” Nate’s excitement was contagious. Hannah caught herself leaning forward, and had to remind herself to breathe. Apparently, Nate didn’t have that problem, since he barreled ahead without pause. “Which means it can’t be an official study.”

  Owen nodded slowly. “It’s worth checking out. Do we have anything to tie this to our victims?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.” Nate took the phone and scrolled to another photo. “Remember the first victim? The one found wearing jeans?”

  “Yeah. But we didn’t find any ID on him.”

  “We didn’t, but Forensics retrieved a scrap of paper from his front pocket. A scrap of paper that just happens to be the same size as the phone-number strips at the bottom of this ad.”

  Owen’s head jerked up, his eyes growing bright. “Tell me they’re working on a match right now.”

  Nate grinned. “They are indeed.”

  “How long until we’ll know?”

  “I asked the guys to call as soon as they knew something. Maybe another hour or so?”

  “We’ve got to find out who answers this number.”

  “It’s a cell phone. Waiting on a warrant.” Nate ran a hand through his hair, letting out a deep sigh.

  Owen shook his head. “That’ll take too long. We need to move on this before they figure out we’re looking at them.”

  “What do you propose?”

  A sly smile took over Owen’s mouth, making him look positively mischievous. Hannah felt her stomach clench at the sight, and realized in that instant she wasn’t going to like what he said next.

  “Done any undercover work lately?”

  * * *

  Marcia stared out the windowed wall of her office, the impressive view of Houston’s skyline failing to hold her attention. Lunch with the detective had gone fairly well, but he seemed to be the determined type, and it was highly unlikely a few hours of distraction would be enough to redirect his focus, especially when she hadn’t had any decent red herrings to throw in his path.

  “Dammit, Dave,” she muttered. He wanted her to control the situation, but he refused to give her the resources she needed to do a good job. Was that because he wanted her to fail? If she couldn’t handle this situation, would that give him the ammunition he needed to hang her out to dry?

  A spike of pain pierced her stomach, making her reach for the antacids. Her hands shook as she fumbled with the top, but she managed to shake out a few tablets. She chewed slowly, then took a sip of water to wash everything down.

  What were her options? Dave was like a wild animal. She expected him to turn on her at any second. And what had she done to protect herself? Not enough. Oh, she’d made notes of their phone conversations, but he was too smart to commit anything to writing. She still had the debris from the lab explosion in her desk drawer—perhaps the police could get prints off the threatening note that was still attached. But something told her they wouldn’t find anything.

  Her best bet would be to outmaneuver Dave. If she went to the police first, it would be her story they listened to, and Dave would be put on the defensive. She didn’t have a ton of evidence against him, but the one thing she did have in her favor was the fact that he didn’t expect her to betray him. He thought she was totally under his control, a good little soldier who carried out his orders without question. If she did throw him under the bus, it would come as a shock, which meant he was more likely to make a damaging mistake as he scrambled to control the fallout.

  She didn’t try to stop the smile curving her lips as she imagined the look on his face when he learned of her defection. What she wouldn’t give to see him get the news in person! She took a moment to enjoy the thought, then shook her head. As much fun as it would be to gloat over Dave’s fall, it wouldn’t be safe. He probably had any number of safeguards in place, complete with patsies set up to take the fall for him. If Dave managed to get away, it wouldn’t take long for him to seek revenge.

  A chill skittered down her back on spidery legs. The thought of Dave’s retribution had been enough to keep her from going to the police before. But now, with the bodies of innocent victims piling up, she couldn’t keep silent any longer. Even the fear of going to jail herself wasn’t going to stop her this time. Things had gone far enough.

  She turned to face her desk and took a deep breath for courage. Then she reached for her phone and started to dial before she could change her mind.

  Chapter 11

  It took a few hours and some fast talking, but Owen managed to convince his captain that they couldn’t just go in, guns blazing.

  “As soon as these guys get a clue, they’re gone. Besides, we don’t know if they have a victim with them now. If we bust down their door, it could turn into a hostage situation.”

  “Assuming they have their next target,” Captain Rogers pointed out. “They might be alone.”

  Owen nodded, conceding his point. “It’s possible. But consider the timing of the bodies we do have. The interval between discoveries is shrinking not growing. That makes me think they’ve ent
ered a new phase and are picking up victims more frequently. It stands to reason they’ve already got their next one.”

  Captain Rogers was quiet a moment. Owen resisted the urge to keep talking, knowing he needed to let the other man think. The captain was an analytical man who liked to consider a situation from all angles. Pressing him for a decision would only backfire.

  After a moment, the other man let out a long sigh that crackled over the line. “What do you want to do?”

  Owen sketched out his plan, making sure to include the latest updates from the forensics team. Nate had gotten the call about half an hour ago—the paper found in the first victim’s pocket was a match to the flyer from the clinic. While it wasn’t quite a smoking gun, the match did make for a compelling piece of evidence.

  He finished up and held his breath, waiting for his boss to make the final call. If the captain didn’t agree with him, it was back to the drawing board, something he didn’t have the patience for at this moment.

  After an endless second, Captain Rogers made a thoughtful sound. “Seems like a solid plan. But we need a few hours to get things set up. I don’t want you running in alone.”

  “But we need to move on this. The longer we wait, the more time they have to kill someone else or pack up and move on. We can’t miss this opportunity!”

  “No buts,” the captain replied firmly. “We’re not going to half-ass this. We do it right or not at all. That means waiting for the pieces to assemble.”

  “Captain—”

  “I want you on board, Owen. This has been your case from the beginning, and I want you there when it closes. But if you push it, I won’t hesitate to go forward without you. Are we clear?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. You’ll make the call in the morning.”

  “Yes, sir.” Owen disconnected and swallowed hard, pushing down the lump of disappointment rising in his throat. He had wanted to get started right away, but logically, he knew his boss was right. Better to wait for everything to get set up than to go in unprepared. After all, that was how John had gotten killed...

  Gray clouds of grief rolled in at the memory of his old partner, and Owen shook his head to dispel them before they dominated his thoughts. He didn’t have time to indulge, not when he had to stay sharp for tomorrow’s plan.

  With a sigh, he tucked his phone back into his pocket and stepped into Hannah’s hospital room. She’d dozed off and on over the past few hours, and he and Nate had been careful to speak quietly, not wanting to wake her. She was awake now, and both she and Nate turned to face him with curious expressions.

  “We’re on for the morning,” he said, unable to keep a note of pride from creeping into his voice. The fact that the captain had not only agreed to Owen’s plan but was letting him run the show went a long way to restoring his shaky confidence. Now he just had to pull it off.

  Nate grinned, his enthusiasm clear. “Good to hear. Was it a hard sell?”

  Owen shrugged. “Would have been a lot harder without the forensic evidence. That was a great find.”

  The tips of Nate’s ears turned pink. “Just got lucky.”

  “It was more than luck,” Owen replied. “It was good detective work.”

  Nate stood, clearly uncomfortable with the praise. “Well. I’d better head out. Get ready for the big show tomorrow.”

  “Call me if anything comes up.”

  “Will do.” Nate offered Hannah a smile. “Get some rest, okay?”

  She nodded. “I’ll try.”

  As soon as Nate had cleared the door, Hannah turned to rest her gaze on Owen. He could tell by the look on her face she was going to argue with him about tomorrow, but he wasn’t quite ready to hear it yet. He’d already defended his ideas to his captain—he didn’t want to have to defend them to her as well.

  He busied himself by walking over to the table beside her bed and picking up her water jug. He gave it an experimental shake and was rewarded with the sound of sloshing. “Want me to get you a refill?”

  “No, thanks.”

  “What about more ice? It’s all melted now.”

  “That’s okay.”

  He put the jug down, straightened the box of tissues. “How’s your shoulder?”

  “It’s fine. Are you done stalling?”

  The question made him pause. “What makes you think I’m stalling?”

  “I’m a professor. I see this kind of thing all the time from students trying to delay the inevitable. I’m a pro at recognizing it.” There was no mistaking the amusement in her tone, and some of his worry lifted at hearing it. Perhaps she wasn’t upset after all.

  He sat down and faced her. The chair was still unsettlingly warm from Nate, but he ignored the discomfort and focused on Hannah’s face. “Is there something you want to talk about?”

  “I’m just wondering if this is really the best approach.”

  “You don’t think the plan will work?” The insecurities he’d thought were under control came screaming back into his mind. She didn’t believe in his idea. Did she doubt him as well?

  She shook her head. “That’s just it. I don’t know what will happen.”

  “No one does.”

  “I don’t like uncertainty. Especially not when your safety is at stake.”

  Relief hit him like a strong gust of wind, making him feel curiously light. He gaped at her for a second, then threw his head back and laughed.

  She stared at him as if he’d grown an extra head. “What’s so funny?”

  He held up his hand, unable to stop. It felt so good, as though all the stress, worry and grief of the past few months was pouring out of him with each full exhalation.

  What a fool he’d been! Hannah didn’t doubt him, after all—she was simply worried about him. He’d been so paranoid, so quick to see the negative, that he’d never even considered the fact that she was reluctant about tomorrow because she cared about him. The thought made his heart swell, and he put a hand on his chest, half expecting to feel the bulge of it behind his breastbone.

  How long had it been since someone cared enough to worry about him? John had, of course. And Jessica—at least in the beginning of their relationship. By the end, he was pretty sure she only thought of him if he was standing right in front of her. The guys at work worried, but in that low-level kind of way that extended to everyone on the force. They certainly weren’t losing sleep over the thought of him in danger.

  Even though he hated the idea he was a bother to Hannah, he was perversely pleased at her reaction. She liked him enough to worry about him, which made him feel more confident that his feelings for her were not misplaced, and she wasn’t going to just walk away when this was over. A question loomed large in his mind though: Did she care enough to give their budding relationship a chance? More important, did he have the patience to find out, or was he going to blow it by pushing for too much too quickly?

  “Sorry,” he said, his laughter drying up. “I’m not laughing at you. It’s just...well, I’m not used to having people worry about me. It feels nice.”

  Before Hannah could reply, his phone buzzed in his pocket. “Just a sec,” he said. When he saw the now-familiar numbers on the display, he frowned. He really wasn’t in the mood to talk to Marcia again, especially so soon after their completely wasted lunch. Besides, he only had a handful of hours before tomorrow’s takedown, and he wanted to spend them talking to Hannah, not wasting his time with a woman who couldn’t take a hint and was of no help to his investigation.

  He sent the call to voice mail and slipped the phone back into his pocket. “Sorry.”

  “No problem.” Hannah’s gaze was direct, but he could see the fatigue in her eyes. “You don’t need to take that?”

  “Nope. They can leave a message if they need to talk to me that badly.”

/>   She nodded, then broke into a huge yawn. Owen fought the urge to do likewise and smiled at her when she opened her eyes again.

  “Sorry,” she said, her cheeks flushing a pretty pink. “That was rude.”

  “Not at all,” he assured her. “Why don’t you get a little sleep.”

  “What will you do? I’d hate for you to just sit here staring at me. Talk about boring.”

  On the contrary. Watching her sleep would be a pleasure. He wanted nothing more than to look on while she sank into oblivion, her body going limp in relaxation, her breathing growing deeper as she began to dream. Would those dreams show on her face? Was she a quiet sleeper, or did she make soft little sounds? He found he had a burning desire to find out.

  “I’ll be fine,” he said. “I’m going to run down to the cafeteria and grab a sandwich. I’ll be back in a few minutes, so why don’t you just close your eyes and rest?”

  She nodded, her eyelids already starting to droop. “Just for a little bit,” she mumbled.

  He stood there for a moment, mesmerized. She was so beautiful. Her delicate features should have made her look vulnerable, but he knew too much about her to see her in that light. To him, she was a warrior, a woman who kept going no matter the obstacles in her path. It was inspiring for him to be around someone like that. He wanted nothing more than to stay and watch her, but his stomach growled, a reminder that he had planned to get food.

  The nurses’ station was a few feet away, and beyond that, a security guard sat in the small waiting area, idly thumbing through a magazine. Perfect.

  The man glanced up as Owen approached. “Can I help you?”

  “I hope so.” Owen showed the guard his badge. “There’s a woman down the hall who I don’t want to leave alone. I’m just going to duck down to the cafeteria and grab a sandwich. Would you make sure no one enters her room?”

  The guard’s face brightened at the request, as if he was relieved to finally have something to do. “No problem. Take as long as you need.”