She wanted to get back to work, wanted to prove herself, no matter what it took. There had been another murder, another torture victim. Not a lieutenant this time, but a cashier at a corner store, someone who didn’t even have any apparent ties to the Ghost Militia.
Jenn knew one thing for certain, though: the Investor had to be stopped. And soon, before he found what he was looking for and left the area, only to begin again somewhere else, with a new city to terrorize.
To her relief, when the uniformed officers picked her up, they took her straight to the crime lab, where Maya was waiting for her, ready to try hypnosis if Jenn was on board.
Jenn’s answer to that was a succinct “Hell, yes.”
“I thought we should go back to Dennison’s apartment. Sometimes revisiting the location can help bring things back.”
Nerves jittered at the thought of returning to the scene, but Jenn nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”
“Then, let’s go.” Maya climbed the stairs to the main floor. “I cleared it with Tucker this morning,” the profiler said over her shoulder. “He said it was okay for us to use the apartment. Gigi and Alyssa have been through the scene a couple of times, but haven’t really gotten any smoking-gun stuff. Which means you and I can go in there and see about jogging your memory without worrying about destroying evidence.”
Jenn winced a little at the reminder of the potentially crucial evidence she’d lost, but nodded. “Thanks for setting it up ahead of time.”
“We didn’t think you’d want to ease into things.”
“You were right about that.” The time away had been good for her, but she hated that she still couldn’t remember the attack, couldn’t picture her attacker’s face or recall what evidence she had packed away after Gigi left.
“Tucker insisted on us taking backup,” Maya said as they hit the main floor, where doors led to the bullpen on one side, the main lobby on the other. Kelsey Meyers was at the front desk, dealing with the phone and keeping tabs on the waiting area. A crutch leaned up against the counter and her K9 partner, Amber, sat beside her.
The sight of the yellow Lab brought a twinge of memory, though not the kind Jenn was searching for. Nick had befriended Kelsey early during his stay in Bear Claw. He hadn’t been flirting with her; no, he’d been drawn to Amber, wanting to know everything there was to know about working with a K9 partner.
When Jenn had suggested he should get a dog of his own, though, he just shook his head and said a guy like him couldn’t have a responsibility like that, not when his work took him away for days at a time, sometimes weeks. Sometimes longer.
He’d given her plenty of warning, she had to admit. He couldn’t have said it any louder if he’d hired a plane to write “This is only temporary” in puffy white vapor across the sky.
“An officer is going to meet us out by the car,” Maya said as they headed for the parking lot. “Tucker said you’re to stay in his sight at all times, and sound the alarm immediately if you see something suspicious, or even get a weird feeling on the back of your neck. Better safe than sorry.”
Jenn nodded. “I’m not going to do anything stupid, like try to lose my bodyguard. Promise.” She was still a potential witness—short-term memory loss could reverse at a moment’s notice, after all.
They stepped through the door, into the secure area where the P.D. members parked their cruisers and personal vehicles. But then, as they approached Maya’s dark green SUV, a figure straightened away from the bumper with a hands-in-pockets move that put Jenn on red alert and sent a surge of heat through her system—one she wanted to believe was anger. Nick. She knew him by the way he moved, the way he looked at her, the way her body reacted.
She hadn’t seen him for two weeks, hadn’t thought she’d missed him. But the sight of the thick, raven-black hair brushing his shearling collar had her wanting to bury her fingers in it, and one look at his stern, uncompromising lips made her want to kiss him long and hard, until the planes of his face softened and his breathing came fast.
She wanted his body against hers, inside hers, pounding them both to oblivion, to a place where it didn’t matter anymore that he’d dumped her or that she couldn’t remember the Investor’s face, it only mattered that they were there, together, riding each other blind, stupid and satisfied.
Even as her blood heated, she cursed him, then herself. Damn him for having been so good, for being there now. And damn her for not being able to let it go.
“What are you doing here?” she bit out as she and Maya got in range of the car, and the man.
“I’m going along to the Dennison place as your backup,” he announced without preamble, without
really looking at her. “Hope you don’t mind.” But his tone said it didn’t matter if they minded or not, that was the way it was going to be.
* * *
NICK WAS BRACED FOR AN ARGUMENT, and didn’t intend to lose. Now that Jenn was back in the city, with all the risk that involved, he intended to watch out for her, whether she liked it or not.
“I thought Tucker was going to assign a uniform.” A light flush stained her cheeks, hiding the dusting of freckles he’d once traced his fingers and lips across.
Wearing wool pants that outlined her curves and a clingy reddish-brown sweater that brought out the burnished highlights in her hair, she looked more like herself—the bruises had faded and the cuts had healed—yet there was a deep wariness in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. He wasn’t sure if it was because of him or the situation, or both.
“He changed his mind,” Nick answered, not bothering to mention that he’d pretty much changed Tucker’s mind for him, unwilling to leave her safety in somebody else’s hands. Two weeks after the attack and he still flashed back on it, still kept thinking, “What if?” What if he’d been a few minutes later? What if her attacker hadn’t bolted, but rather stayed to finish the job?
She set her jaw. “This isn’t a good idea.”
“He thinks it is. So do I.” Usually, Nick wouldn’t have tried to push himself in where he wasn’t wanted, especially when it came to a woman. But the situation—and the woman—were far from his usual.
What was it about her that wouldn’t let him walk away? She wasn’t all that different from the other women he’d dated over the past six years, since his divorce. They were almost invariably career-minded, self-sufficient, sexy and independent. In other words, nothing like Stacia’s blond vulnerability and home-and-hearth sensibilities, which had made her an incredible mother but a terrible match for an undercover cop.
There was some of that home-and-hearth in Jenn, too, though. She was tough and self-sufficient, yes, but the more he’d gotten to know her—not just during their time together, but also over the past month, when he hadn’t been able to stop himself from watching her—the more he’d realized that she wasn’t as much like him as he’d thought. She wasn’t looking to work for a bit and then move on. She wanted roots, wanted a home base. A family.
He knew there was something in her past, some blot on her record she was trying to get away from—she’d hinted at it, and Tucker had volunteered to give him the whole story at one point. He’d turned down the offer, though, and hadn’t given in to the low-grade temptation to look into the matter on his own. She was entitled to her secrets. God knew he had his own…and it wasn’t as if they had been in that kind of relationship back then. Still weren’t, which made it none of his business. Hell, she was none of his business.
Yet here he was.
To Maya, he said, “I wanted to take another look around the scene, anyway, and wouldn’t mind bouncing my impressions off you for the psych perspective. And no offense to Tucker’s uniforms, but I’ve got far more time in the trenches. I see things they don’t. So I volunteered to play bodyguard.”
The psych profiler pursed her lips but didn’t argue. “You don’t need to sell me on your qualifications…but I need to be sure that you won’t interfere with the hypnosis.”
“I won
’t make a sound,” he promised.
“That wasn’t what I was talking about. I need Jenn relaxed and concentrating on me, not you.”
Damn. He hadn’t thought about it like that. He’d been so focused on keeping her safe—and potentially getting his own look at her attacker if the bastard came back—that he’d lost track of the whole point of the exercise, and that he might jeopardize it.
Spreading his hands in what he hoped was a gesture of innocence, he said, “I just want to make sure you’re safe, and get in a few minutes extra at the crime scene, that’s all. If it’ll help, I can wait out in the hall during the actual hypnosis.”
But Jenn looked away and shrugged. “That won’t be necessary. Sit in, don’t sit in, your call.” She might as well have said, I don’t care what you do. Certainly implied it.
He hadn’t meant it as a challenge, but that was how she’d taken it. That probably should’ve brought a wince, maybe even made him back down. Instead, he nodded. “Then I’ll sit in. Thanks.”
He didn’t think he’d just played her, certainly hadn’t meant to. Sometimes it just came as second nature, though.
They rode to the Dennison apartment in silence and without any evidence of a tail, and parked close to where he’d lost sight of Jenn’s attacker. It had been a couple of weeks, but part of him still wanted to duck around that corner and have another look, try to put himself inside the Investor’s head. It wouldn’t do him any good, though. He’d tried it already—more than once—but just couldn’t get inside the bastard’s mind. He knew all the details of the case, knew the kind of man they were dealing with—smart, meticulous, ambitious, already powerful and seeking more—and what that sort was likely to think and do…but the Investor’s actions didn’t fit the pattern, which had Nick off his game.
Normally, a guy like this would’ve left town right before the militia went down. Or if not then, right after. He would’ve cut his losses, found a new city and started over. Someone this careful, this meticulous, normally wouldn’t have stayed put, and he certainly wouldn’t have gone on a killing spree when there hadn’t been any evidence before that he’d done any of the actual killing.
The Investor, though, had stuck. Was still sticking. And according to the word on the street—and Nick’s gut instinct—he was doing the killing. Where are you, you bastard? What are you up to? What do you want?
“You coming?” Jenn asked coolly, making him aware that he’d paused on the sidewalk, out in the open.
“Yeah. I’ve got your back.” And, damn it, he needed to make sure of that. Focus.
He kept his senses maxed as they headed upstairs, but he didn’t see anything out of place. The carpet was the same, the stairwell had the same echo and, when he popped his head into the second-floor hallway, one of the residents gave him the same semi-bored look the cops had gotten before, with even less interest now because of the police presence over the past couple of weeks.
When they reached the apartment, he went in first and took a quick look around before returning for the women. He stepped back out into the hallway, saying, “It’s clear.” Maybe too clear.
The apartment had been stripped, cleaned and repainted, the floors refinished, and it didn’t look anything like it had before. The bones were the same, but the space echoed now, and smelled of paint, sawdust and polyurethane. He questioned whether it would trigger any of the memories Jenn and Maya were hoping for. It sure as hell wasn’t giving him anything to work with when it came to getting inside Dennison’s head, or the Investor’s.
Maya went in first. When Jenn slipped past him, he said quietly, “Last chance. I’ll wait in the hall if you’d rather.”
She hesitated, but then shook her head. “You should be in here with us. If I start remembering, who better to ask the questions?” Her lips twisted in a bitter-seeming smile. “You’re one of the best interrogators I’ve seen.”
Her expression made him wonder what she’d seen, and why. He didn’t ask, though, wasn’t sure he wanted to know. So instead, he said, “You’re not a suspect.”
“But I’m a witness. Or at least I should be. Fingers crossed.” She entered the apartment, leaving the door open behind her.
Nick hesitated. Was she testing herself or him? Or did she really not care if he was in the room? Maybe she didn’t, he acknowledged. Maybe he was the only one who was having trouble moving on from a relationship—an affair, he corrected, not a relationship—that he’d been the one to end.
So he followed her in, hoping this wasn’t a mistake.
In the absence of furniture—or anything, really—the women sat cross-legged on the floor, right near where the bloodstains had been sanded away, the floor refinished. Not letting himself picture Jenn lying sprawled in that same spot, motionless and bloodied, Nick wandered to the bedroom and glared out the window, toward where her assailant had disappeared.
Behind him, Maya spoke softly, telling Jenn to relax and count her heartbeat, her breaths, and picture a happy place. And while Nick wasn’t about to volunteer for hypnosis—he didn’t want anyone crawling inside his head, thanks—he found himself breathing along with them, maybe even relaxing a little.
Letting out a sigh, he headed back to the main room and paused in the doorway. Jenn had her back to him, sitting cross-legged with her hands on her knees, in a compact fold that made him think he could scoop her up one-handed and toss her, laughing, over his shoulder to carry her to bed. Only he couldn’t. Not anymore.
And he needed to get the idea—and the woman—out of his head, except in a professional capacity. He was her bodyguard right now, nothing more and nothing less.
“You’re in this room,” Maya said quietly, “only it’s not empty anymore. What do you see?”
Jenn hesitated for a moment, but then said slowly, “There’s blood spatter around a chair. Ropes. Kitchen knives. And the smell.” Her voice sharpened on the last word. “God, I hate that smell, hate seeing things like this. Gigi’s here, though. She knows I can’t stand this part. So she’s talking to me, making it a little easier.”
He hadn’t known crime scenes got to her, never would have guessed from seeing her working them. The detail shouldn’t have tugged at him. If anything, it should’ve made him want to back off even further than he already had—he didn’t go for vulnerability, after all.
“Okay, good,” Maya said. “That’s good. But Gigi gets a call. She needs to leave.”
Jenn nodded. “I tell her it’s fine, I don’t mind finishing up.”
“Then what happens?”
“Then…” Jenn’s expression clouded. “Then Nick is there, looking down at me. Why is he there? Why is he staring at me like that?”
He shifted a little against the door frame, not sure what she’d seen in him.
“It’s okay, you’re okay.” Maya shot him a raised eyebrow, but said only, “Let’s back up a little. Gigi is still there. She’s leaving, though, heading off on the other call. You tell her that you’ll take all the case evidence back with you… . What happens next?”
Jenn frowned, but then her expression smoothed out. “She makes me promise to get one of the officers to help me carry everything, then she leaves and I keep working.”
Nick tensed and shared a quick glance with Maya. This was new. Always before when Jenn had tried to talk about the attack, her memories had stopped before Gigi left the room.
Granted, it had been long enough, and hypnosis was inexact enough, that they could be dealing with false memories she had unknowingly created to fill in the crucial gaps. He was willing to take that chance, though; they all were. They would take just about anything if it had even a chance of producing a new lead in the Death Stare investigation. With the murder of the store clerk and two more overdoses in the past week, the death toll was still on the rise. This had to stop, now.
“Okay, so you keep working after Gigi leaves,” Maya confirmed. “What evidence do you collect?”
They had been through the list of samples that Gig
i and Jenn remembered collecting, and nothing had jumped out as a potential smoking gun, something important enough that it would’ve been worth the killer coming back for. Which meant that either it had been something routine that the Investor had been worried about, something the analysts hadn’t seen that he’d taken away when he left the apartment the second time…or it was something Jenn had found after Gigi left.
“I finish up in the main room and start in the bedroom. There’s a pair of boots in the corner with soil in the treads. Maybe that’ll help.”
Maya’s eyebrows rose and she glanced at Nick, but he shook his head and said quietly, “Alyssa collected the boots after Jenn’s attack. Compared to the original crime scene photos, it didn’t look like they’d been touched.”
She nodded. “What happens after you notice the boots?”
“Someone comes in.” Jenn straightened and looked toward the apartment door. “Gigi must’ve sent one of the officers—” Her face blanked, but not with terror. It was more the confusion of someone coming awake. She blinked a couple of times. “Nick’s here. What’s he doing here? Why is he looking at me like that?”
“Damn,” Maya muttered under her breath. She sent him a sidelong look and shook her head. “That may be all we get.”
“You took her further than she’d been going before. Keep trying.”
She did, but it didn’t work. Even under careful questioning, Jenn’s memories kept skipping from looking at the boots to seeing Nick as she regained consciousness. The intervening minutes were gone.
It took Maya a few minutes to bring her back around and brief her on the results—or lack thereof.
Jenn shook her head and winced a little, pressing her fingers to her temples. “Well. That was a big waste.”
“It was worth a try,” Maya said, but didn’t argue that it had been a failure.
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