For All to See (Bureau Series Book 1)

by Megan Mitcham

  Did he follow her to the bedroom? No. He lifted his head, snuffed, and then lowered it next to Nathan’s leg.

  “Don’t get your feelings hurt. We talked earlier. I told him I was going to keep an eye on him tonight, so you can get some rest.”

  She grabbed the edge of the door, ready to slam the thing.

  “Door open tonight. Just in case. If you want to sleep naked, I won’t peek.”

  25

  Her puffy eyes squinted open on a new day. Sunshine billowed through the window. She rubbed both fists against her eyes and stretched her legs toward the foot of the bed. Her toes peeped out at the other end of the covers.

  Madelyn shot upright. She always tucked the end of her sheets under the mattress with military precision. But now the entirety of the bottom edge hung over the end of the bed or in a heap over her ankles. Her gaze shot left and right, looking for what? The killer, who’d menacingly untucked her cover?

  A hollow dented the pillow next to her and the cover had been ruffled back. In the corner a medium sized duffle bag yawned wide. Patterned blue boxers hung from the side.

  No way. He didn’t.

  She gasped and the delicious aroma of breakfast filled her lungs. Her stomach flipped, reminding her she’d gone to bed without dinner. But first she had some investigative work to do. She leaned into the pillow and inhaled. Nathan’s decadent scent shot up her nose. She melted, her face crashing into the pillow.

  That dirty, rotten, sneaky—

  “You hungry?”

  She rolled to the side to find his head peeking around the heavy wooden door. “Starving. Did you sleep in my bed last night?”

  “You’re a good snuggler. Way better than Deacon.” He shrugged and vanished behind the door.

  Madelyn launched off the bed and hurried to catch him. “You slept in my bed!”

  “I couldn’t find any bacon or sausage. So, we have eggs, toast, and fruit.” He shoved a plate toward her and winked. “We might want to think about going to the store today. You have a good amount of vegetables and other fixings, but your meat supply is non-existent.”

  “I would hope so. I don’t eat it.” She smiled, awaiting his reaction.

  “Oh, no.” His eyes bugged and his upper lip curled.

  “Oh yes.”

  “Is this some kind of payback for sleeping in your bed?”

  Deacon lay in the middle of the walkway between the island and the refrigerator. She squatted and rubbed his head. “You traitorous mongrel,” she cooed. “You could’ve given me a heads up.” He only blinked his big amber eyes. Madelyn hugged his face in her hands, and then sat at a barstool and took several bites. “I can’t believe you slept in my bed and I didn’t know it. That’s creepy.”

  “You were zonked. And honestly, I gave the couch a try. But only two thirds of me fit on it. I slept on the floor for a few hours, but woke to Deacon’s butt in my face and a crick in my neck.”

  “Fine.” She waved him off. “What exactly is the plan? And, are there agents watching the house? Because I didn’t see any on the way in last night.”

  “If you saw them they wouldn’t do us any good. They are there. Well, their surveillance equipment, taking in every inch surrounding your house.” He snagged a banana out of the bowl and peeled it. “They’re in a villa a little way up the beach, monitoring. If anything larger than an iguana moves out there we’ll know about it. And the plan is to wait.”

  He gulped down a bite and practically swallowed it whole. “It’s the hardest part of the job. The waiting game. Waiting for forensic analysis. Waiting for the bad guy to make a move or a mistake. Waiting sucks, but that’s what we’re going to do.”

  She finished her food and summarized. “So, I just hang around and be the bait.”

  He lifted his suit jacket and pointed to the gun tucked snuggly into its holster. “Bait with protection.”

  She’d slept later than usual and missed her morning run and gym time. “Did you turn off my alarm?”

  “Can’t go to the gym right now, so I figured I’d let you sleep a little longer.”

  “Why can’t I go…never mind.”

  “I’ll take those.” He grabbed her empty plate, put his banana peel on top, and scooped up her glass. “You don't have much time to shower and get to work.”

  “School,” she croaked. The grisly scene flashed in her mind.

  “You’ll get through it. I’ll help you.”

  26

  Unexpected. Madelyn Garrett was the most interesting puzzle ever created. If given a million other words to describe her, killer would’ve never blipped on his radar. From his beat cop days to his years with the bureau, Nathan had locked up more murderers than should exist. Not one of them had her compassion. Not one had her principles. Not one of them had her sweet vulnerability. Not one of them had her wistful eyes. Not one of them had her smile.

  Plenty of them had scars though, scars from abuse doled out by the very people meant to protect them. Parents’ harsh words maimed the innocence of the child. Their hands hardened them to love and peace. Their assault broke the frayed string that bound them to virtue.

  Madelyn had scars. The wounds—whatever kind—inflicted by her mother and stepfather still caused pain. She used that to build a barrier between herself and anyone with the potential to inflict more harm. But she didn’t let it turn her into a monster. No monster could light up a room full of children the way she did. No monster could light him up the way she did.

  A lanky kid, maroon shorts grazing his calves, rushed into the classroom. “Ms. Garrett, how’s Deacon? Do they know who—” The boy skidded to a halt. His fist tightened on the notebooks in one arm, while his other flew to the seat of his britches to keep them from hitting the floor. “Why are you here again?” He balked, narrowing two light brown eyes on Nathan.

  “Outside until you’re dressed properly, Suada,” Madelyn snapped before Nathan opened his mouth to answer. “And the next time you step into our workspace trying to flash your drawers, I’ll hook your belt loops over your ears.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He backpedalled the way he came and hung his head a bit, properly scolded.

  The guitar rift from Van Halen’s Hot for Teacher strummed through his brain. He shifted uncomfortably in the wooden chair in which she’d ordered him to sit. Watching her traipse around the classroom in a wrap dress that hit all the right places might be more difficult to endure than the interrogation evasion tactics class he’d had at Quantico.

  A small tidal wave of adolescents poured into the room over the next few minutes, all with similar concerns. Madelyn ordered them to their seats and Nathan took the opportunity to shift his back from the crowd. He wanted to see their faces as they asked their questions and be able to see out the closed window, just in case.

  “I want you to know Deacon was cleared to go home last night and is doing well. He’s sore and tired, but he’ll be back to his old self in no time. We don’t yet know who was behind the attack…and that’s all I can say about the investigation. If you saw something, remembered something that you think is relevant, Special Agent Brewer will speak with you after you’ve finished your work for the day.”

  She made it to the front of the classroom, turned toward her students, and softened her hard-nosed exterior with an empathetic smile. “I know we’ve all been through a lot over the past week, but we can’t let it stop us from living our lives. We have things to learn, places to go, dreams to conquer.” Her lips hardened into a line. “I want group one to work on your Hamlet essays. Group two, you finish up the BVI history timeline. Group three, get your Algebra workbooks out and complete pages sixty-seven and sixty-eight.”

  Two steps brought her even with a female student’s desk. Her gaze cut quickly to the girl and then back to the class. “This is not code for chat with your friends. We have work to do. We’ll rotate in thirty minutes. Any questions?” Hands shot up around the room. “About an assignment?”

  One by one the hands lowered, ex
cept for one.

  “Yes, Suada?”

  “If we don’t finish, will your boyfriend shoot us?” The boy lost it at the end of his apparently hilarious question. His open mouth disappeared behind his hand and he doubled over so forcefully he nearly cracked his head on his desk. The classroom followed suit, their shoulders shaking and mouths curving into severe grins.

  The question wasn’t particularly witty, but Nathan found himself fighting the urge to join in. His eyes must have given him away. When Madelyn’s gaze landed on him her eyes grew about two sizes and she popped both hands onto her hips.

  “Put your desk next to his and find out.” Madelyn’s straight face brooked no argument and showed no amusement. That sobered the masses.

  In the space of a minute the room went from straight rows to clusters. Kids argued softly over the villains in Hamlet or a history factoid, while others scribbled quietly on pages. And a dark faced, bright-teethed boy eyed his jacket warily in between equations that made Nathan’s head ache.

  Madelyn made the rounds, helping one student after another. Sauda’s eyes followed her for a minute. Nathan was about to tell the kid to quit staring at her butt—that was his job—when the kid turned toward him conspiratorially. “Are you Ms. Garrett’s boyfriend?”

  “Why do you ask?” He could have gone the this isn’t any of your business route, but he wanted to see where this was going.

  “It’s just,” Sauda shrugged, “she’s not married…and she’s never had a boyfriend.” The kid whispered as though too much noise would rouse a pack of guard dogs.

  No boyfriend, the entire time she’d lived here. That surprised him. With the collection of goodies in her drawer, he’d assumed she had lovers, at least on occasion. He hadn’t expected a relationship, but in this small town people would have assumed a fuck-buddy was a boyfriend.

  “Sauda, working, not talking,” Madelyn called from the front of the room.

  “Her back was to you, how’d she know you were talking?” Nathan practically mouthed.

  “Agent Brewer, you too,” she added.

  Nathan folded his arms and huffed, but scanned the perimeter outside each window. So she used all those toys on herself. Man. Heaviness gathered in his balls. His cock surged to attention. What he wouldn’t give to show her how much better it could be with a partner.

  “Most of the men are scared of her,” the boy whispered.

  He arched a brow. When the boy looked away to find Madelyn in the classroom Nathan discreetly adjusted himself in his pants. Crown him king of inappropriate timing.

  “My father was at Paradise Bar one night and he told me that she broke this guy’s arm because he grabbed her...uh, you know…behind.” Sauda’s head bobbed and a palm was up as though he preached the gospel.

  “I only sprained it.” Madelyn braced two hands on Nathan’s desk. “Why don't you go sit behind my desk.”

  Nathan stood, walked around the desk, grabbed her upper arm, and brought his lips a whisper away from her ear. “Do you want me to stay after class too?”

  Her skin flashed hot under his touch while her mouth formed a beautiful O. A grin morphed the shock. “Yeah, I’ll introduce you to Melody.”

  “Is Melody your WE-Vibe?” he breathed.

  Madelyn pressed her lips between her teeth and turned a pretty shade of pink. After a few breaths, she found her composure. She stepped from his grasp. “Class, Agent Brewer isn’t scared of Melody.”

  ‘Ooh’s’ and ‘oh no’s’ erupted. He narrowed a look at her.

  “Bottom left desk drawer. You’ll know her when you see her.” Madelyn placed one hand on her hip and scooted him along with the other.

  The way the students followed his every move, he half expected a giant anaconda to spring from the drawer and swallow him whole. He pulled back the drawer and stared at Melody.

  “Go ahead. Pull her out,” she encouraged.

  It took both hands to maneuver the thing out of the depths. He dropped it on to her desk. The thud echoed in the room. And the kids looked ready to bolt.

  “She has a five page minimum. The offender has to complete as many pages as it takes for them to promise never to do what he or she got in trouble for doing ever again. If they break that promise the next step is fifty pages. Melody works like a charm.” Madelyn beamed.

  “I’ve seen smaller New York City phone books,” Nathan awed.

  “That’s the idea.” She winked.

  “I’ll be quiet. I swear.” He placed his hand over his heart and lifted the other to the sky.

  “What do you think, guys? Make an example of him or let this be his one free pass?” Madelyn turned to the clumps of students.

  The girls opted to give him a pass. The guys elected to keep his trigger finger busy. Luckily, there were more girls in the class than boys.

  “Looks like you’re off the hook for now,” Madelyn said.

  Nathan tucked the gargantuan book away and meandered around the room. A few minutes into the second group rotation movement outside the window caught Nathan’s eye. Two wide green leaves of a short tree lolled…in the breeze? None of the branches around it shifted. He stopped walking and studied the landscape.

  Situated on the west side of the building, it would have been a great place for the killer to hide before making a move. His gaze bore into the foliage. The shadows of the vegetation stained dark amidst the blazing daylight. He adjusted his line of sight to that of a six-foot five-inch man.

  And found the whites of two eyes staring back at him.

  Nathan’s hand slid over the cool grip of his Sig. The figure bolted. Leaves and branches shook and shimmied in his wake. Nathan left the gun in its holster, flipped the lock on the window, and shoved it wide. “Lock the window behind me.”

  “What are you doing?” Madelyn’s voice trailed after him through the window, but he didn’t stop to explain.

  He reached for the radio clipped to his belt and barked into it. “Suspect on foot, moving west away from the school.” Nathan cleared the gravel and plunged headlong into the thicket.

  The guy drove through the woods like a bulldozer, marking a clear trail for Nathan to follow. He stretched the limits of his tailored pants and fancy shoes, cutting through the brush and churning up dead leaves and dirt. The fleeing suspect’s thunderous footfalls grew louder.

  Nathan blinked through the perspiration slipping down his forehead. His arms swung faster. He gained ground on the monster. He gained ground on Amadi.

  On his arms and legs chiseled muscles bulged under midnight skin. His close-cropped hair glistened in the sunlight reflecting off the beaded sweat. He moved fluidly through the undergrowth, but his height and bulk could only condense so much.

  Stretching and digging deep, Nathan closed the distance. Only a handful of feet stood between him and answers. He didn’t want to shoot the guy. Not until he got answers anyway. So, he pushed harder.

  Amadi jumped over a wet patch of earth. Nathan followed too closely to see the puddle in time and didn’t give a flying fuck if he got his shoes muddy. All he cared about was plowing this guy into the ground.

  His foot hit the puddle and found nothing beneath it.

  One section of a rotten log gave way, along with the ground around it. His entire leg plummeted into nothingness. Every ounce of momentum he generated met with the immovable planet in a catastrophic explosion of pain in his ribs.

  On impact, the radio flew from his fingers. It landed some thirty yards away. Amadi’s frame shrunk with the distance he put between them. Nathan’s lungs refused the oxygen he struggled to deliver with every busted gasp. Still, he shoved both legs into the hole to boost himself out.

  Nothing solid revealed itself. He kicked wide. He stretched deeper. Yet, he found no bottom, no side, no back of the chasm.

  Nathan dug his fingers into the soggy ground, drove the toes of his shoes into the crumbly earth and pulled. He crawled out of the hole like a subterranean animal, and then collapsed onto his back. One by on
e molecules of air returned to his lungs, along with the knowledge that he knew who the killer was, and had let him escape.

  27

  “Stop being a baby,” Artie chided.

  “Stop poking my ribs.” Nathan shot back.

  “Dead people are so much easier to work with,” the old man huffed.

  Madelyn stood with her arms crossed in the middle of her otherwise empty classroom, waiting to find out what the hell had happened in the woods.

  Artie rocked back in her desk chair and wiggled his jaw side to side. “Shirt up. I’m going to need a better look.”

  “I said I’m fine,” Nathan reminded.

  “And I said I’d like answers,” Madelyn yipped. “If I’m not getting answers, you’re not getting out of this exam.”

  “I’ll tell you. I’m just waiting for confirmation on something first,” Nathan explained.

  “Then you can let Artie examine you while we wait.” She settled him with a glare.

  The old man didn’t wait for Nathan’s compliance. He yanked Nathan’s shirt from his pants and hoisted it into the air.

  “Hey, watch my gun.” Nathan twisted his torso and every link of fibrous muscle contracted into a gorgeous set of abs stained with a vibrant bruise from one oblique to the other. Breath hissed between his teeth.

  Artie slapped Nathan’s hand away from the holster. “I’ve seen plenty of guns in my day, kid. And there aren’t many worth getting excited over.”

  Madelyn would have stifled a giggle, if she weren’t so angry at Nathan for holding back. Of course, she held back plenty…but that was personal. This was business. Business was the entire reason he stepped into her life in the first place.

  The medical examiner prodded the purple and red areas as though playing in finger paint. Nathan’s lips and jaw clamped tight, and his face paled. “All right, get dressed so no one gets a peek at your gun.” The guy stood and waltzed to the door.

  “You can’t jab around like that and not tell me what you found.” Nathan shoved his shirttail in his pants, winced, and then continued the task with gentler stokes.