He picked up the bag of s’mores ingredients. Pulling her inside the snow fort, Declan rolled onto his back, on top of layers of blankets he’d laid out, and she did the same. “What do you think? Just like your childhood?”
“Not exactly. I wasn’t allowed to have boys inside my fort as a kid.” Gleaming ice surrounded them, but nothing but warmth penetrated through her clothing as she shifted beside him. “I’m thinking after the past few days we’ve had, we can break another rule while we’re at it and have s’mores for breakfast.”
“Coming right up.” Declan made quick work of starting the fire in the pit outside their snow cave door as she unpackaged the ingredients. He slid back inside, claiming his roasting stick and an oversize marshmallow. Within a minute, the marshmallows were perfectly brown, the scent of fire and pure sugar in the air as they assembled their treats.
He bit into the mess, leaving a bit of marshmallow and chocolate on his chin. “All right. You’ve got sugar for breakfast and a guy in your snow fort. What other rules are you interested in breaking today?”
“Just one more.” Reaching out, she skimmed her thumb over his bottom lip to wipe away the remnants of their sugar rush. Piercing blue eyes focused on her, and every cell in her body fizzed with awareness. Sunlight bore down on the fort, droplets of freezing water pooling at the edges of the blankets. A chunk of ice landed at her feet, but she wasn’t going to rush this. “But with the fort coming down around us, I recommend we make this first time fast.”
Kate set her chocolate-and-marshmallow breakfast aside and reached for her jacket. Sliding her one arm out, she tossed it aside and went for the Velcro on her sling. No more stalling. No more living in the past. The future sat right in front of her, waiting for her to make a choice she never thought she’d have to make. And she’d made it.
She planted her hand over his sternum. “Screw the rules.”
Declan threaded his fingers in her hair, then shifted her onto her back as he flashed that brilliant smile. “I was never a fan of them anyway.”
* * *
DECLAN SLIPPED FROM the king-size sheets they’d spent the rest of day underneath and grabbed his clothes before stalking toward the door. No more mistakes. He’d let that bastard get his hands on her once. He wouldn’t let it happen again. He wasn’t about to let her go, and he’d do whatever it took to protect her.
Even if it meant lying to her a bit longer.
Because once she discovered the truth, discovered he wasn’t the man she thought him to be, she wouldn’t want him anymore.
Oranges, yellows and reds bled through the cabin’s windows as the sun set in the west. He dressed quickly, then extracted her laptop from her bag beside the door. Taking position on one of the bar stools at the granite countertop, he dimmed the screen and typed the online access address for the FBI into the browser. The window changed, demanding a login and password. That bit of memory had come to the surface while he dug out the snow fort, and he typed in Special Agent Declan Monroe’s credentials.
Access granted.
Kate’s teammate, Elizabeth, had been assigned to review his old case files for the BAU, but she wasn’t an agent. She didn’t hunt the monsters in the dark. He did, and there had to be something he could work with—a clue, anything in these old files—he could follow to nail the perp with one of his own damn arrows. Somehow, the Hunter knew him, and Declan would make him pay for dragging Kate into his sick game.
He read through countless case files, one after the other. Crime scene photos, witness statements, arrest reports. Nothing jogged his memory, none of it linked to any other cases where an arrow was part of the killer’s MO. He had...nothing.
Declan rubbed at his eyes as frustration burrowed deeper. A single file on Kate’s desktop peeked out from behind the window he’d been working in. Case 306-AK-4442. The FBI’s internal offense code 306 categorized the file under serial killings, AK assigned the file to the Bureau’s Alaskan field office and the last number was unique to the case. The Hunter’s case.
Double tapping on the file folder, he scanned the evidence from the Hunter’s latest trophy, the woman Kate had found in the field. Kate and Declan might’ve been banned from working the case officially, but the FBI hadn’t ordered her to delete her case files. An oversight on Dominic’s part, but Declan wasn’t above taking advantage. Not when Kate’s life was in danger.
Mary Lawson. She fit the unsub’s MO, making her the perfect prey. But what were the chances the killer had found not two but four single women close to their thirties with blond hair and green eyes in this city? What was the connection? His rage boiled hot inside of him, a blistering fury that demanded he end the son of a bitch. “When are you going to try for her again, you bastard?”
The kitchen lights brightened, and his spine went rock hard as he closed down the file window.
“You want to go after him alone.” She moved into his peripheral vision, her fingers trailing across his shoulders, and his grip on the counter relaxed. She took a seat beside him, her voice devoid of emotion. No plea to get him to stop. No disappointment in his decision. Nothing. “Even though we’re off the case, you can’t let the Hunter get away with what he did.”
“He tried to kill you.” But he couldn’t think about that right now. He had to focus on the evidence, had to find a lead. Because the Hunter wasn’t finished. He’d come after Kate again. He’d try to take her away. That wasn’t happening. “And for all you know, I could be researching different s’more recipes.”
“Okay, first, you’re a horrible liar,” she said.
If only that were true.
“Second, I know you, Declan.” She reached across the laptop and hit a command to bring up the Hunter’s files. He inwardly flinched. “You might not have all your memories, but some things are ingrained too deep. Doubling down on a case is something you used to do as an agent, even when you only had a hunch. Third, there’s no other way to make s’mores. I don’t care what the internet says.”
Her green gaze glowed from the laptop’s brightness. She pulled her hand away as she stood. “Besides, I’m not sure he was trying to kill us. There were faster ways to accomplish the task, and he wouldn’t have worn a mask or disguised his voice if that was his intention.”
“What then? He’s dressing up for Halloween?” he asked.
“I think he was testing us.” Her thin robe fluttered around her knees as she moved to the refrigerator. She pulled a carton of eggs and a gallon of milk from the fridge and set them on the island in front of him. “He killed Michaels and broke his own MO. He’s not operating out of some undeniable urge to kill like most serials. The Hunter wanted us—wanted me—to see what he’s capable of. Maybe to prove he’s above my skills as a profiler, which is certainly looking to be true for the time being.”
Declan stood, coming around the countertop. “We’re going to catch this guy, Kate.” They had to. Otherwise... He shut down that line of thought. No. He wouldn’t think about that. He wouldn’t think about losing her like that.
“I let my personal problems get in the way of doing my job. Again.” She twisted the cap off the milk and selected a brightly colored ceramic mixing bowl from the cabinet. She cracked one egg into the bowl, then another. “How exactly are we supposed to catch him when I can’t even wrap my head around the fact you’re standing in this kitchen with me?”
“You need to know, there was nothing you could’ve done for Michaels,” he said. “He didn’t become one of your patients by chance. He was placed in your path. Someone sent him to shoot you.”
Her mouth dropped open, and she stumbled away from the counter. The egg in her hand fell to the floor, but she didn’t move to clean it up. Eyes wide, she licked her lips. “What did you say?”
“Right before I heard those gunshots in the woods, I found Michaels.” Declan lowered his voice.
It’d all been in his statement t
o the Anchorage PD and FBI while she was in surgery, but Kate had been removed from the case right afterward. She had no reason to believe she still had access to those files. No reason to go back and read his statement. If anything, she’d probably made the effort to avoid anything to do with the case since being pulled from that damn hole in the ground.
“His throat had been cut, but before he died, he told me he was hired to fire those shots. Someone paid him to pull the trigger a year ago and again the other day. He was a pawn, Kate. You did nothing wrong.”
“You think that person who hired him is the Hunter.” She worked to swallow, her gaze distant as she studied the broken egg on the floor. Her fingers went to the scar at the collar of her T-shirt, a nervous habit that had increased over the last few days.
“I guess that explains why both Michaels and our serial killer were in those woods at the same time, but that still doesn’t make sense. The Hunter is the one with the fascination for blonde women with green eyes. Not Michaels.” She looked up at him. “Why would he send one of my patients after me at all? And with a gun? Serial killing teams are rare, but if they were partners, wouldn’t they have the same MO? They build off each other, they work hard—together—to distort the evidence and confuse law enforcement. Studies have shown they have a smaller chance of getting caught that way because police think they’re only after one unsub instead of two distinct killers.”
He’d given it a lot of thought since walking out of those woods with her in his arms and again as he’d traced the scar tissue across her chest while she slept. There was only one explanation. Declan rested his hip against the counter, folding his arms across as his own scars burned with awareness. “I don’t think the bullets were meant for you.”
She lowered her hand. “There was only one other person in that house, which means—”
“Michaels was sent to kill me.” The bastard had almost succeeded. Twice. Only, Kate had gotten caught in the cross fire. Was that why the Hunter cut Michaels’s throat? Had it been punishment for his partner nearly killing the target he was really after?
The feel of the cold granite kept the rage at bay. For now. Because Kate had been right. Declan wanted to go after him. The Hunter had started this battle, but Declan would bring the war. “I was there, Kate. Both times. That can’t be a coincidence.”
“If the Hunter wanted you out of the way to get to me, why wait over a year to try again?” she asked. “Why target those four other women when he had so many opportunities to take me?”
“Maybe he couldn’t get to you, even with me out of the picture.” Blackhawk Security watched their own and had an entire arsenal at their disposal. Their killer wouldn’t want that kind of attention or heat.
Declan ran a hand through his hair, focusing on the bowl of milk and egg she’d left on the counter. “Or it’s like you said in your profile. He wants us to see his work, rub it in our faces that we haven’t stopped him before now. Punishing us.” Air rushed from his lungs as the realization hit. Damn it. He should’ve seen it before. He should’ve known. “Punishing you. Because he can’t bring himself to hurt you.”
“You’re saying I’m the focus of his kills.” Color drained from her face, her rough exhale loud in his ears. Profilers didn’t catch killers. She gave the men and women who did the details to accomplish their task. Being the target of a psychopath had never been part of the job description.
Kate straightened. “Those women are being hunted in the middle of the woods—dying with arrows through their hearts—because of me? Is that what you’re saying?”
Declan wrapped his hands around her arms, careful of the bullet graze on one side. The lit Christmas lights deepened the shadows in her eyes, an opposite effect of the night before, and everything inside of him went cold. The Hunter had put those shadows there, and Declan would make damn sure he paid for it. “This is not your fault, Kate. Don’t you dare let him get to you this way. The shooting, those women’s deaths, what happened to me, none of it is on you.”
“I know all that.” Her words cut through him. “But this killer... He’s not like anything I’ve encountered before, and he’s good at what he does. He’s gotten in my head, and I can’t get him out, okay?”
Nothing but strength and determination showed in her expression, and damn if that wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. Kate Monroe had been through hell and back, but the locking of her jaw said she wouldn’t be playing the part of victim anytime soon.
“You don’t have to worry about my guilt,” she said. “If anyone should be worried, it’s him. I’m not going to let him get away with this.” Kate collected a handful of paper towels and scooped the broken egg off the floor. Throwing it in the trash, she set back to work on the ingredients for their dinner. “He thinks he’s better at hunting than I am, but I’m going to show him he’s wrong.”
Chapter Eleven
“If we accept our theory that I’m his ultimate prey, then the killer thinks he knows me. But I think finding a connection between the women needs to be the priority,” Kate said.
Because there had to be one beyond just a similarity to her looks. Kate might’ve been the Hunter’s ultimate target according to their theory, but she didn’t know any of the victims. As far as she could tell, she’d never met them before. Not working as a psychologist and not for Blackhawk Security. It was too easy to assume their killer had found them on the street. So how was the Hunter coming into contact with them?
“However small,” she said. “It’ll tell us how he’s choosing his victims and help us stop the next abduction. You and I both know he isn’t finished. If anything, I believe he’s just getting started.”
“You read my mind.” Declan spun the laptop toward her, the mess of French toast forgotten on the counter as four young faces stared back at her from the screen. “Brittney Sutherland, Holly Belcher, Carrie Fleming and Mary Lawson.”
“Wait, why does that second name sound familiar?” Kate shifted closer to the screen as instinct flared. She’d read that name before and not in the files Dominic had given her when he’d brought her onto the case. It hadn’t clicked until now. “Holly Belcher.”
“I thought the same thing when I brought up her file. Turns out her brother went missing last year. She was all over the news.” Declan scrolled through the digital file. “She and her mother were pleading with anyone who had information about his disappearance to call Anchorage PD over every news channel who’d give them air time.”
A missing person case.
“I can only imagine what that mother is going through right now,” Kate said. “First her son, then her daughter.”
Losing Declan had been one thing. Losing two children within the span of a year? Kate swallowed as her throat swelled. Then again, she’d lost a child, too, hadn’t she? She hadn’t gotten to meet the tiny life that had been growing inside of her, but a life had been ripped from her all the same. Her gaze slid to Declan, across his shoulders, down his spine, and it took everything in her not to imagine what that life might look like today.
“Did they ever find him?” she asked. “The son?”
“No. No sign of him according to the FBI’s report. He was finally presumed dead a few months ago by the lead investigating agent.” Declan shook his head, leaning back on the bar stool as he crossed his arms over his muscled chest.
Kate eased away from the screen. “Now his sister is a serial killer’s trophy.”
Didn’t seem fair after everything the family had already been through. Her heart broke a fraction more as she straightened. But she could still get them justice. She could stop the Hunter from taking more women.
“Michaels was a former patient,” Declan said. “There’s a chance the Hunter is, too.”
“It’s possible, but even if we knew his identity, we won’t be able to get those files from their current doctors without a judge,” she said. “If we were gra
nted a warrant, any leads we get from them won’t be usable in court. I’m not a practicing psychologist anymore, but doctor-patient confidentiality is still in effect.”
The Hunter was one of the most complicated killers she’d studied. He was organized, intelligent and controlled. If he’d been seeing a psychologist, it would be impossible to pick him out of a stack of files due to his ability to blend in, to lie. To make everyone around him believe he was just like them.
Kate rolled her bottom lip into her mouth and bit down to keep herself in the moment. There had to be something they could use. Every victim had unknowingly attracted the Hunter in some way, brought him into their lives.
“What if he targeted Holly because of her media appearances?” she asked. “Were any of the other women in the spotlight? The more we learn about the victims, the more we’ll learn about their killer.”
Declan’s fingers flew over the keyboard, the screen switching from the second victim to the first. The Hunter had started with Brittney Sutherland, as far as the authorities knew. She’d been the first victim recovered, but there was a chance there were others out there. “You’re not going to believe this.”
“What?” Kate forced herself to look past the photo of the victim and read the FBI’s report. Her heart jerked in her chest as she read through the lead agent’s notes. “Is that...”
“Another missing person report,” he said. “Only this is for the first victim’s mother.”
“Two victims, both tied to separate missing persons cases?” That was too much of a coincidence. What were the chances two of the Hunter’s victims had loved ones missing within in the same time frame? “Check the others. Carrie Fleming and Mary Lawson.”
The screen changed as he pulled the next two files. “Carrie was brought in for questioning when her best friend disappeared from a bar a few months ago, and Mary’s roommate went missing last week.”
Caught in the Crossfire Page 12