“I’m afraid I’m about to make you more uncomfortable, but I’m not going to dress it up in flowers.”
“Flowers die.”
He tore off a hunk of bread and swallowed it down. “True enough. All right. I’ve been on the Field-Dresser case for nearly three years. A pair of murders occur every year, exactly one year from the last set. The pattern began in St. Thomas, and then moved to St. John a year ago yesterday. I believe he’s begun the cycle in Tortola.”
The metal fork clanged on the ceramic plate and then clattered to the table. Her heart beat so hard she’d swear it left impressions on her chest. Nausea rolled like a wave in her belly. “You think she’s dead, not missing?”
“I honestly hope I’m wrong, but—”
“You are wrong.” He opened his mouth to speak, but she forged ahead. “You’re talking about the women killed by that maniac. He’s in custody. Just last night they showed a snippet on the news about the beginning of the trail.”
“It’s not him,” he whispered.
“What are you talking about? Granted, I don’t have a TV, but I’ve heard people talk about it. And they said the prosecutor had all the evidence they needed to go for the death penalty.”
Nathan set his fork on the edge of the plate. It didn’t make a sound. He placed the napkin next to it, grabbed his thighs, and straightened. “They have every scrap of evidence they need. They have a verbal and written confession from Robert Inman. But one thing didn’t match up between his story and the evidence. That thing is big enough to get the case thrown out. And it’s big enough that when he told me, I wanted to cut him loose right then and there.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because I’m not self-employed.”
“What was the thing?”
He simply shook his head.
“Fine, what does all that have to do with Nichole?”
“She matches the profile of the victims. Tall. Dark hair. Trim physique. The timing fits, along with some other things.”
“Like?”
His chest expanded on a breath and he released it slowly. He wasn’t going to answer her question.
Fine.
As the shock ebbed, reason seeped back into Madelyn’s brain. “I think she ran away with someone…a man, maybe. That’s why she didn’t say anything to me.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Well,” she began. “You know her husband was abusive and jealous enough to make anyone want to leave.”
“But she didn’t leave him. You said it yourself. She wouldn’t leave no matter how much you tried to convince her he would do it again and no matter how badly he treated her. She didn’t leave.”
She knew he was right. Nichole had been loyal to a fault. Still, she pushed ahead. “Yes, that’s what I believed up until a few hours ago. Last night I did some investigating of my own.”
His jaw clenched. His eyes clouded charcoal black.
Though the change was subtle, she noticed it immediately. She noticed it the way people notice the darkening of the sky before a storm. Gooseflesh prickled her entire body. “Before you lecture me about my place in all this, you should know I got a lead.”
“A lead?” He ground the words between his teeth. “Who are you, Nancy Drew?”
“She was seen driving down the beach at two in the morning, Friday morning, with someone else in the car.”
“Who told you this?”
“Mr. Malik. He’s an old fisherman who lives west of here about five miles up the beach.”
“Old?” His eyes narrowed.
“He’s eighty, but he is sharp as a tack.”
“Okay, what was this sharp eighty-year-old doing outside at two in the morning?”
Madelyn bit her cheek to hide her smirk. “I was curious myself. He said, ‘Sugar, when you get to be my age you don’t sleep much at night and you have to pee every few hours. I like to look at the moon and the stars when I pee.’ He said it gives him a sense of being one with nature.”
Nathan considered that. “If this pans out, you did better than I did last night. Nobody would talk to me and intimidation didn’t go far either.”
“I hate to be the one to break it to you, but you’re not very intimidating.” She hoped her bluff was working, because in truth he was intimidating the hell out of her. Every sentence he uttered in his dungeon-dark voice sent chills down her spine.
“I may not be,” he agreed, “but my gun is.”
She blew it off. “Don’t take it to heart. You’re not a local and you don’t have boobs. So, nobody’s going to talk to you.”
“In that case,” Nathan countered with a sly grin, “you only have half of the criteria.” When she cocked an eyebrow he continued, “You’re not a local. You only moved here three years ago.”
“So, you read my file?”
“No. Di…Special Agent Kepler told me.”
Her stomach knotted. “So, he read it.”
“No, I have it locked up. But he did make nice with the courthouse receptionist. She pulled real estate and insurance records for him.”
She nodded, unable to speak for the momentary relief. After a few moments she said, “The locals welcomed me quickly. For some it takes longer.”
“It’s the boobs.”
“Excuse me?” Her cheeks flamed.
“Hey, you brought it up.” He smirked.
“What?”
“That’s why they welcomed you so quickly.”
“No, it is not. I am a nice person and I have taken an interest in the island’s culture, the community, and the children.”
“Uh-huh.”
How dare he talk about her boobs. They were body parts that had not gotten much attention in an uncomfortably long span of time. She’d all but forgotten about them. Even in her wardrobe they blended in like unfashionable accessories. And here this stranger was making her all too aware of their sudden wanting presence. She struggled to ignore the tingling, made worse by his knowing gaze and her constricting sports bra. Setting her jaw she tried to burn a hole in him with her gaze. Undisturbed, he gave her a killer smile and returned to his food.
“You need to eat,” he said after a beat.
“I’m too irritated to eat. Nichole…my friend can’t be dead.”
They held each other’s gaze for too long. She gulped the raw emotions clawing their way up her throat. “Are you finished?” Her hand shot out to take his plate.
His warm fingers encircled her wrist. Instead of going rigid and cold all over, the contact heated her someplace deep inside.
“I’ll get these.” Nathan’s touch slid from her wrist, taking all the oxygen in her body with it.
He retrieved the plates and cups, stood, and looked over his shoulder at her. “Lock the back door on your way in.”
Since when did she take orders from a man? Apparently, this was a banner day. She pulled herself up, sucked in a deep breath, followed his wide shoulders into her house, and locked the door behind her.
Nathan moved through her space with such easy assurance, like he’d been there a thousand times. But then that’s probably how men moved through life, taking every bump and crossroad in stride. He stepped over Deacon, placed the empty dishes in the sink, tucked her uneaten salad into the refrigerator, and then peered out the two wide slats of the window over her sink.
He turned and walked toward her, only stopping when he was within touching distance. “I need you to do something to help with this investigation.”
“Anything. I want to help.” Maybe contributing in some way would dull the helplessness plaguing her.
“Close and lock the bottom slats of your windows. Keep both the doors in your house and car locked whether you’re in them or not. And stop your investigation.”
Madelyn placed her hands on her hips. “Are you worried I’ll take your job?”
“I’m worried you’ll find something you don’t want to find.”
Her gaze dropped to his chest. She fought to b
lock the gruesome images buffeting her mind.
“Hey.” Her gaze found his. “I also need you to give me directions to Mr. Malik’s house.”
10
Excitement and dread coalesced, braiding Nathan’s traps with tension. He waited for the snick of the lock before jogging up the beach toward the spot where he’d left the upgraded rental. When he got far enough away from her open windows that he wouldn’t be overheard, he grabbed his phone and dialed.
“What do you want, asshole?” Dick grumbled.
“Still mad about the car, huh?”
“Hell, yes. I’m not your whipping boy, you know. I’m sorry Hunt got shot, but I can’t change that fact. You’re stuck with me for the duration of this circus, as that hillbilly called it. I can make this time as easy or as difficult as you want me to.”
“You practice that speech all morning?”
“Dam—”
“Listen up, I need you to meet me at Paradise.”
“We canvassed the place last night and didn’t find out a damn thing.”
“We’re not meeting there to question people. We’re going to grid off the west side of the island and start looking for Nichole.”
“You mean her body, don’t you?” For the first time since they’d arrived on the island, and maybe the first time ever, he heard sincerity and remorse in the man’s voice.
“There’s a chance it’s not our guy and that she’s still alive. But you know if the sick bastard is behind this, he’s already done the deed and he’s waiting for us to find her.”
“I know.”
“Look, I have to make a stop along the way to check out a source and hopefully get a physical description of our killer.”
“No shit,” he breathed.
“Hope not.”
“Well, don’t rush on my account. It’ll take me a few hours to walk there.”
Nathan opened his mouth, but a feminine voice cooed on the other side of the line. “I’ll drop you wherever you need to go, babe.”
“See? Saved by a good Samaritan,” Dick said.
“If you’d slept in your hotel room last night, instead of with some stranger, you’d have seen the key I slipped under your door this morning.”
“Drop me at my hotel?” he asked the woman.
“Mmm,” she agreed.
“Have you done anything case-productive this morning?” The rustle of sheets or clothing grated on Nathan’s nerves. “Dick for brain, pay attention.”
“Huh?” the guy responded dazedly.
“Have you done anything productive this morning other than add to your collection of STD’s?” Nathan hollered the question, drawing a snicker from the group of kids still loitering on the beach.
“He’s screwing around,” Dick explained. His voice sounded far from the mouthpiece. A bang acted as a gong in Nathan’s ear. “I promise. He’s a kidder. A joker.” A slam sounded farther away. “You son of—”
“Say something bad about my momma,” Nathan breathed. “I’ll have another missing persons report on my hands.” Dick panted his hostility. “Now answer my question.”
“I’ve been going through files of Nichole Gallow’s known associates and cross checking names with the previous victims. So far there’s no commonality apart from the physical. But on this island there are several known associates that fit the killer’s forensic height and weight profile.”
“Who?”
“There’s like ten names on the list.”
“Well…”
“Well, I’ll bring it with me, if I make it there. You jackass.”
Nathan pulled opened the door to the white SUV that was three times the size of the car he drove yesterday, slid behind the wheel, and headed toward Malik’s house. Well, there was gold and there was shit. The two opposites existed in the world and in this situation.
The gold was the fact that he had a jump on this sick killer people referred to as the “Field-Dresser.” To top that, Nathan even knew who the man’s subsequent victim would be. He was in a prime position to catch him before he completed the second act of his twisted play. One Nathan was so intimately familiar with, he could almost see it unfold, as if on stage before him.
The shit was that if he didn’t work fast and catch the sicko before his second act, the most alluring creature he had ever seen would soon be ravaged and eradicated from the earth.
Nathan had been on this icy case for nearly three years, but had managed to collect more bodies than clues. The psychopath left one pair of carved women each year hanging for the world to see, within two weeks of one another. No meaningful evidence was found at the scenes or on the bodies. No hair, fingerprints, DNA, or weapon.
The only fibers left were microscopic bits of cotton and the lengths of rope he used to hang them. Neither had been any help to the investigation because it webbed into a universe of possibilities. Camouflage heavy-duty utility rope stocked the shelves of every other outdoor and home improvement store around the world. The manufacturer didn’t catalog dye lots. So, they couldn’t narrow the point of purchase. Unable to refine the search or come up with any information to cross check against it, the heap had become useless. The cotton fibers found on the bodies all matched from scene to scene. The clues were two freight trains on the same track barreling head first toward one another.
A dead end.
Though the victims were dead, their bodies told an epic story of suffering at the hands of their killer. They also told a little about the killer himself. The man was large enough to subdue his victims with a single blow. Brains more scientific than his own had run tests and taken measurements on all the victims, then thrown around words like density, thrust, angle of the wound and so on. They determined the killer was between six-feet-four inches and six-feet-six inches tall, and in the neighborhood of two hundred sixty pounds. From the size they could rather accurately guess the killer’s gender as male, unless there was an Amazonian woman walking around with a beef for her more petite kind.
Most importantly, Nathan knew the man’s patterns. But would it be enough?
In order to succeed, he needed to get a grip and focus. He’d nearly fallen off the wall when Adrian Tau removed his uniquely large frame from blocking Madelyn Garrett’s striking features. And damn him to a lifetime partnership with Dick, but the more time he spent in her presence, the deeper her troubled eyes tugged on him.
She was a beautiful woman. He’d seen them before. Hell, he’d had them before. Which was why he couldn’t understand his reaction to her. Perhaps it was because her life was in his hands, though she didn’t know it.
****
“Maybe we need to take another look at the husband.” Static crackled through the two-way radio and sputtered in the humidity. A bird screeched in the distance, as if echoing the Dick’s belligerent opinion.
Thick greenery clouded his line of sight. Fallen branches and dead leaves grabbed at his boots. He was in shape, but the effort and heat caused his muscles to weep. Nathan shoved a thick vine out of his way and marshaled forward.
The scratch of the communicator blared again. “He’s never hidden one before. They’re always out in the open. Easy to find. Nobody likes being wrong, but maybe were making something out of nothing.”
He’d swear the guy had given voice to the ramblings of his conscious. Nathan had never known the man to be so insightful, but the more boxes they X-ed on the map the more obnoxious those thoughts became. Yesterday afternoon they’d split and covered three square miles before the slipping daylight had forced them to stop.
Nathan plucked the walkie-talkie from his utility belt. He pressed the button, cutting of another of Dick’s pleas. “I finished section seven and I’m wrapping nine. Where are you?”
“Finished eight and starting ten.”
“You’re slackin’, Kepler,” Nathan smiled and waited for the ugly words.
“You gave me the steep side of the mountain, jackass. If I plummet to my death out here, I’ll haunt you forever.”
Curving lines of topography polluted Nathan’s map along with black Xs smeared from the raining beads of his sweat. “I agree this isn’t his usual MO. Adrian Tau assured you he’d stay on Jim Gallow. If it turns out to be the husband, it’s not our jurisdiction. So, we finished what we came here to do. Find out if it’s our guy or not. We can’t do that if we don’t clear the woods, which is the last place Nichole Gallow was seen alive.”
“If you’d told Tau, we could’ve had a human chain clear this sauna yesterday.”
“And have any potential crime scene polluted with ten or more people’s DNA. Thanks, but no.”
“You don’t trust him do you? Then again, you don’t trust anybody.”
“There’s a short list of people I trust. Tau isn’t on that list, but I’m betting he’s on your list.”
“My list?”
“Your list of people who fit the forensic profile.”
“I forgot all about the damn list last night.”
“We were both beat.”
“Yeah to all of it. He’s on the list, the husband, her karate instructor, that guy’s nephew, a couple of bouncers at the bar, a few fellas at the gym, and a man who works with her husband.”
“Only a tiny percentage of the population is over six feet tall and you’re telling me all of them live on this island.”
“I looked into it. The place used to be the number one exporter of sugarcane for the Brits. They couldn’t work the fields themselves. So, like our lazy ancestors they shipped in slaves from Africa. And Darwin’s theory pervaded for the next century.”
“Meaning all the biggest and strongest survived, and then reproduced.”
“That’s about it.”
Nathan slashed through the nine. They’d cleared another two miles this morning and only had two more to go. He put one foot in front of the other and pushed ahead.
Suppose he was wrong. Then Madelyn wouldn’t be in danger. Through college, law school, his two years with Miami PD, and his six with the FBI, nailing the bad guy was all that mattered. For as long as he could remember it’d been his singular goal. And that suddenly paled to his desire to keep this woman safe.
For All to See (Bureau Series Book 1) Page 6