by Pat White
“Isn’t that rather odd, guv? The killer taking the chance he’d be seen?” Art asked.
“Maybe he hired another messenger,” Eddie offered.
“No, he delivered this one himself. It turns him on to get so close,” Max said.
“He could also feel shunned because Agent Templeton didn’t mention him or the previous murders in the news broadcast,” Jeremy said.
“Read the note, Agent Kreegan,” Max said.
“‘Another boy will fall/ Lose his way/ Lose his life./You can stop me, Inspector./ But first you have to find me.’”
She glanced up. “That’s it.”
Max walked to the front window, hesitated and turned to the group. “Quite civil of him to give us a warning. This note seems a little different from the rest.”
“Remorse,” Jeremy blurted out.
Max glanced at him. “This is a cold-blooded killer we’re dealing with.”
Jeremy knew that, of course, but sensed something about the note, about the whole process that was different this time around.
The team shared updates and opinions: Agent Kreegan said no prints were found on the latest note; McDonald reported that the family of the second victim said he was upset about grades, but was planning to get a tutor; McDonald said there were no similar murder cases in the past year in the States.
The front door swung open and Spinelli joined the team.
“Am I late?” Spinelli said.
“We needed to get an early start,” Jeremy said. “We received another note.”
“Hell,” Spinelli swore.
“Do you have anything for us?” Max said.
Spinelli settled at a desk and opened his notebook. “I’m checking out a few suspects from the frat house interviews—a plumber who’d done some work there and an advisor who knew both boys. Drew a blank on the scarf—could have been purchased from any number of department stores. There’s nothing special about it.”
“We need a connection,” Max said.
They were running out of time. Max could feel it.
He pushed away from the desk. “Agents Barnes and Kreegan will accompany me to the fraternity this morning for interviews and investigation of the victims’ belongings. Agent Spinelli, follow up on the plumber; we’ll interview the advisor. We’ll meet back here at four o’clock. And a word of advice—we have to be sharp to catch this bastard, which means we need our proper sleep and nourishment.”
“That means no cold pizza for breakfast,” Cassie said to Eddie.
Max glanced at Bobby. “And let’s take it easy on the pub-crawling. If you want to get out and let off steam, fine, but make sure you get your seven hours of sleep, got it?”
Max dismissed the group. Barnes cornered the forensics agent and asked her a question, Art patted Bobby on the shoulder and Bobby shook his head in embarrassment.
“What about me?” Cassie said.
Max glanced at her, taking in her sweet, fair skin, rosy cheeks and bloodshot eyes.
“How about a day off?” he said.
“What if I don’t want the day off?”
“I assumed after the night you had that you could use a little time to yourself.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t need you making decisions for me.”
He’d made her cross. By caring about her?
“I can’t win with you, can I?” he said. It was one thing to be a target of a crazed killer, but he didn’t need to be a target of her anger as well. “I was trying to help. I guess that’s where I keep making my mistake. Barnes!” he called, and walked away from her.
Barnes looked up from his conversation with Agent Kreegan.
“We’ll meet out front in fifteen minutes and head to the fraternity,” Max directed.
“Yes, sir. Agent Kreegan wanted you to see this—a report on the substances found in the Cunningham boy’s system.” Barnes handed him a folder.
“And I’ve got those e-mails, sir,” Eddie said, walking up to him with a handful of papers.
“Thanks.” Max took the stack of papers and started up the steps.
A woman’s cry pierced his heart. He gritted his teeth and kept climbing, determined not to collapse in full view of the team. He wouldn’t allow them to see his post-trauma breakdown.
That cry, a familiar sound, he’d heard it before. The sound of a mother finding her dead son in the rubble at King’s Cross.
More like the sound of a mother’s anguish after being told her son was brutally murdered by a serial killer.
A killer Max couldn’t stop from killing again.
Take me, he thought. Pick on someone who can fight back.
And Max would fight, injury be damned, if the bastard would show himself.
“Max?”
He ignored the sound of Cassie’s voice. It was all he could do to push aside the spell and get up to his room. He needed a few minutes alone, away from the rush of the investigation.
“What is it?” she said.
She touched his arm but he kept on climbing. He reached the second floor and headed for his room, bracing himself against the wall for support.
“That’s it, I’m calling a doctor,” she said.
“No, leave me alone.” He went into his room and slammed the door.
He leaned against the wall, wondering what had brought on this spell and why he couldn’t will it away.
He tossed the file to the bed, his heartbeat hammering against his eardrums. At least the woman’s gut-wrenching cry had stopped.
“Sit down.”
Cassie. She was there in his room, guiding him to the bed.
“I told you to leave me be.” Through the haze he read concern in her eyes.
“Breathe,” she said. “Come on, focus on my eyes, stay with me.”
He followed her order and stared directly into the light-blue depths that reminded him of the August sky back home: bright, blue, brilliant.
“You’re okay,” she said.
Something squeezed his right hand, subtly, as if through layers of padding.
“Feel my hand?”
“Yes,” he said.
His head cleared a bit. “I’m okay,” he said, starting to get up.
“Stay.” She pressed her hand to his shoulder. “We need to talk.”
Here it comes. Her resignation.
“Your spells,” she started.
“It’s none of your business.”
“I’m making it my business.”
“No.”
“No? You’re going to tell me what I can and cannot do?”
She was giving him a headache.
“No more arguing,” he said.
“No arguing, listening. You listen. You want to be able to trust me. Fine. But in order to help you I need to know what’s going on. What happens when you have your spells?”
“I get dizzy.” He glanced at the floor.
“And?”
“I lose my balance.”
“And?”
“And nothing.”
She tipped his chin so he’d look into her eyes again.
“Don’t,” he said.
“What are you afraid of?” she whispered.
“Not finding a killer before he kills again.” He stood and walked to the window. His vision cleared, his feet felt like he was on solid ground. The spell had passed, thank God.
“Our problem is we’re a lot alike, you and I,” he said. “Both of us are too proud to accept help.” He turned to her. “Although, you didn’t have a problem asking Eddie for help. So it must be me. You don’t think I’m up to the task?”
“I didn’t ask you for help because I figured you had enough on your plate.”
“Right, got it.” He looked back out the window.
She came up beside him. “Stop the self-pity crap.”
“Out of my way.” He started for the door, but she stepped in front of him.
“I asked Eddie to help me find my mother and sisters,” she said.
“You’re in charge of a murder investigation, you’ve got trauma that gives you nightmares and it seems a killer is focused on you.” She planted her hands to her hips. “Sorry if I thought I should spare you more angst. I didn’t want to put that on you.”
“Because I couldn’t handle it.”
Her eyes burned fire. “No, because I care about you.”
She turned to leave, but he caught her arm and pulled her against his chest. As he looked into wide, blue eyes, he lost himself for a second, forgetting where he was and who she was and…
…he kissed her. Just like that. Tasted her sweetness and absorbed her goodness. Her warmth touched a part of him he thought had been destroyed in the blast.
This was wrong, but instead of letting go of her, he let go of his cane. It hit the floor with a thump, and he slipped his hand to the small of her back, pulling her even closer. God, she tasted heavenly.
A knock at the door made them break apart. Max lost his balance, took a step back and sat on the bed. Cassie stared at him, pressing her fingers to her lips.
“What?” Max said to their intruder, keeping his eyes trained to Cassie. She looked…horrified.
“Everything okay, guv?” Bobby asked.
“Fine. I’ll be down in a minute.”
“Yes, sir.”
Cassie leaned against the door, listening to the footsteps echo down the hallway.
“It seems I’m not the only one who cares,” she said.
“But you’re the one I kissed.” He searched her eyes, hoping for a sign that she’d welcomed, maybe even enjoyed the impulsive gesture.
Instead, she closed her eyes and sighed.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Me, too.” She opened the door and raced down the hall to her room.
“Now what have you done, Templeton?” he whispered.
FORTY MINUTES LATER, Cassie went into the kitchen of the frat house in search of a glass of water. Max, Jeremy and Agent Kreegan interviewed fraternity brothers in the living room. A campus police officer supervised, along with their college advisor, Gil Jenkins.
She opened a cabinet and found a clean glass. Turning on the water, she heard Max’s apology over and over in her head.
I’m sorry.
Although she’d said “Me, too,” the truth was, she wasn’t sorry. Not about the kiss anyway. It was amazingly tender, and it scared the wits out of her.
She wasn’t ready to get involved with a man, especially not a complicated man like Max Templeton who’d surely hurt her with his misplaced pride and unresolved grief.
“You sound like a coward,” she muttered.
She took a sip of water and glanced into the backyard. It had all started as a plan to help him work through whatever haunted those brilliant green eyes of his. Eyes that tore at her heart whenever he had a spell.
“I’m surprised you came along.”
She turned at the sound of Jeremy’s voice.
“Why?” she said. Good heavens, was it that obvious that she’d been rattled by her encounter with Max?
Girl that ain’t no ordinary encounter—that was the Fourth of July!
He walked up beside her and glanced out the window. “I don’t know. You look tired today. Max said not to wake you. But here you are.”
He studied her and she looked away. Jeremy Barnes was an intuitive man, and a gentle one. Some girl would be lucky to have him.
But not Cassie. She wasn’t ready for a man, not now, not for a few years.
“I’m okay,” she said. “How’s it going out there?”
“As well as can be expected. Some of the boys are rattled, others think it’s a coincidence.”
“What do you think?”
“I think,” He hesitated and eyed her. “You’re a brave girl.”
“Brave? Why?”
“I think you know.” Jeremy smiled.
Someone cleared his throat in the doorway. She spun around to find Max standing there.
She automatically took a step away from Jeremy, feeling guilty. Oh for pity’s sake.
“You’re needed upstairs to search the rooms,” Max said, looking at Barnes. “Unless you want to stay here and continue flirting with my assistant.”
Jeremy raised a brow and nodded at Cassie, then left the kitchen.
Max hovered in the doorway. “You coming?”
“Of course.” She walked across the kitchen.
He placed a hand to her shoulder. “You sure you’re up to this?”
When he looked at her with such concern in his eyes it took her breath away. It had been such a long time since a man had cared about her like this. Or had a man ever cared?
Get a grip, girl.
“Let’s go.” She went through the living room and started up the stairs.
He followed her at a distance. Good. When he got too close she fought the urge to touch him again, reach out and rub her thumb across the faded scar on his cheek. This was bad. Very bad.
Sure, she’d been attracted to Karl at first. But the attraction began to fade, turning into a conscious need for stability and someone to lean on. She’d figured that was the normal evolution of things.
In reality, it was the beginning of a nightmare.
When she looked back on her years with her ex-husband, she realized there had been signs, but she’d chosen to ignore them.
She wasn’t ignoring anything about Max. She knew he was a tortured soul who took out his anger on the people around him. What on earth would compel her to walk into that mess?
His eyes. The glint of hope and promise she saw there. A glint of hope he probably didn’t know existed.
Maybe Max was right: maybe she was a sucker for lost causes.
No. Max was far from lost. If he’d only accept his imperfections, and his gifts.
He passed her and went into the bedroom where Jeremy and Agent Kreegan were poking through bookshelves and items on a desk.
Max had many gifts. His keen instinct and loyalty for starters. Then there was his kissing ability…
She couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss. And that scared her.
She should leave, hop a plane and fly away from her past and Max. But she couldn’t until she helped him through this case, until she helped him accept who he was.
He fingered a notebook on the desk and glanced at her, as if reading her mind.
She crossed her arms over her chest and stared back at him. She was being silly.
“I’ll check the TV room,” Jeremy said, passing by Cassie and disappearing into the hall.
“This is odd,” the forensics expert said. She handed something to Max. It looked like a coin.
With latex-gloved fingers, Max took it from her and went pale.
Cassie casually strode up beside him.
“You all right, sir?” Agent Kreegan asked.
“Fine. Get started in the TV room, will you?”
“Yes, sir.” She disappeared into the hallway.
“Max, what’s wrong?” Cassie asked.
“I’m fine,” he said, a blank look in his eyes.
“No, you’re not. Max, look at me. Look into my eyes.”
If she could get him to focus, she could bring him back down to earth.
Thundering footsteps echoed up the stairs. “Hey! Somebody, help!” a man shouted.
“What’s happened?” Cassie heard Jeremy ask in the hallway.
“Lyle Cooper, no one’s seen him since yesterday.”
ANOTHER ONE TAKEN and the dream team wasn’t even close to finding the mastermind who served up true justice. The boys would fall, one by one, followed by the arrogant Max Templeton. He would fall the hardest. That’s what he deserved for getting in the way.
Chapter Nine
Max’s gut twisted into a knot. He strode into the hallway. “Who saw him last?”
“His girlfriend, Beth,” a redheaded kid said.
“And you are?”
�
��Adam, his roommate.” He ran his hand through shaggy shoulder-length hair. “I thought he was with Beth last night, so I didn’t worry when he never came home. Sometimes he stays at her apartment.”
“What time did she leave him?” Barnes asked.
“She had lunch with him around one,” Adam said.
The boy wet his lips, twice, three times. He was nervous. Why?
“Lyle told her he had to cram for a physics test, and he’d call to say good-night but he didn’t. She figured he was studying so she didn’t want to bother him.”
“We’ll need to talk to her,” Barnes said.
“She’s downstairs.”
“Barnes,” Max ordered.
“Yes, sir.” Barnes started down the stairs and the boy followed.
“Adam?” Max said, and the boy turned to him. “I’d like a word with you.”
“Sure.”
Max motioned him into the bedroom. “Continue in the TV room,” he ordered Agent Kreegan who had come out into the hall.
“Yes, sir.”
She’d found the strange medallion in the boy’s bedroom. Maybe she’d get lucky and find another lead.
“Does this look familiar?” Max said, holding up the coin to Adam.
“No, sorry.”
Max adjusted himself to lean against the desk. “About your roommate, what was his mood like the past few days?”
“He was a little stressed about his physics test.”
“Have you noticed anything unusual?” Max passed the coin to Cassie. “Hanging out with new friends, missing class, odd phone calls?”
“Not really.” He shoved his hands into his sweatshirt pockets and licked his lips. Again.
“How long have you known Lyle?”
“Met him last year.”
“Were you close?” Max asked.
“Yeah, no, I don’t know. Define close.”
“Ever party with him?”
The boy’s head snapped up and his gaze locked on Max. “Yeah, we went to a few.”
Max leveled a stare at him. “Think, boy. Did anything odd happen in the last few weeks? New friends, accidents, chance encounters?”
“No.” He studied his shoes.
Max slammed his cane to the floor to get the kid’s attention. “Whatever it is you’re hiding isn’t worth your roommate’s life.”