Desperate Girls

by Laura Griffin

  “He’s proven it, Brynn. That’s what concerns us,” Mark said. “That’s what makes these communications so threatening. The vast majority of people who make threats never attempt to carry them out. And those who do often fail. That’s a fact. What’s different here is Corby’s track record. His experience. His success.” Mark looked to Ross, then back to Brynn. “He’s killed before, and we feel certain he’ll attempt it again.”

  “I want the FBI involved,” Reggie said. “These marshals are incompetent.”

  “The Bureau is involved,” Liam said. “They have agents on the task force, which also includes people from the sheriff’s office and several local police departments.”

  Lindsey leaned forward to look at Reggie. “We shared the letters with the task force as soon as we discovered them. We’re doing everything possible to cooperate with the other agencies involved here, and we expect the same courtesy from them. Apprehending this suspect is everyone’s top priority.”

  Brynn looked at the profiler again. The man was serious. Calm. Composed. And absolutely convinced of what he was saying about Corby’s mission.

  Reggie’s phone vibrated on the table. He got up to take the call, giving Brynn a dark look as he stepped out of the room.

  Mark spent another few minutes describing further tests that would be conducted on the notes to prove they’d been sent by Corby. Brynn tried to listen, but her mind kept going back to Jen and the horrible details of her death. And then there was Lindsey’s theory from this morning, that some of Corby’s rage toward the authorities might actually be justified.

  “Brynn?”

  Erik’s low voice beside her jerked her back to attention. He was watching her intently, a look of concern on his face.

  “That about covers it,” Mark was saying. “I’ll continue to work on my assessment, but the rest of the test results won’t be back for another few days. I’ll notify you as soon as we have something.” His gaze rested on Brynn, and silence settled over the room.

  “Well.” Brynn glanced at her watch. “This has been . . . educational. But Ross and I have to get back.”

  Mark looked at his brother.

  “With all due respect,” Liam said. “It seems like you’re not getting the gravity of the situation here.”

  “Actually, I am.” She gave a thin smile. “I’m definitely getting it. Because in exactly”—she checked her watch again—“six minutes, I have to be in a courtroom to defend an innocent teenager who stands to spend his life in prison for something he didn’t do. What happens this week will affect his entire future, as well as the lives of his family members. And every day of his trial, I’ve been distracted by threats from a homicidal maniac who has somehow eluded every cop in the state.” She glanced at Lindsey, then Liam. “So yes, I’m fully aware of the gravity of the situation and the consequences if any one of us here fails to do our job.”

  She stood and looked at Mark. “Thank you for coming and for sharing your analysis with us.” Then she looked at Erik, who was already on his feet. “Could we get back now? The last thing our client needs today is the judge finding his lawyers in contempt of court.”

  Erik had no trouble keeping up with her long strides as she navigated the crowded hallways back to the courtroom.

  Brynn was shaken, and despite her glib comments and casual shrugs, Erik could see the truth. He’d learned to read her. He’d picked up on all her little tells—the tap of her fingers, the twitch of her mouth. She tried to appear confident, but Erik could see she was scared.

  He wanted to pull her out of the traffic flow and tell her that yes, the danger to her was very real, but he’d protect her.

  And what would that get him? Probably an angry shove and a thorough tongue-lashing.

  She sliced through the crowd, glancing at him as they neared the courtroom. “What?”

  He said nothing.

  She looked back at Ross. “Come on.”

  Erik paused beside the door and caught her arm. “Shake it off, Brynn. You’re ready. You’ve got this.”

  She gave him a puzzled look. “How would you know?”

  “Because I do.”

  THE AFTERNOON was a marathon, and by the time Linden dismissed everyone, Brynn was tapped. Erik had disappeared somewhere, so Jeremy accompanied both her and Ross down to the prisoner bay, where the SUVs were waiting.

  Erik was behind the wheel of the Tahoe. He got out and reached for Brynn’s door as Ross and Jeremy slid into the Expedition.

  “Just you?” she asked him.

  “That’s right.”

  “I’d rather ride up front, then.”

  She walked around to the other side and stashed her attaché case on the floor. Erik wasted no time getting them moving and navigating the congested route out of the parking garage. Brynn kicked off her heels and leaned her head back against the seat. Her feet were screaming, and her shoulders were in knots. She was craving a cold margarita or a hot bubble bath.

  Or a massage from someone with strong hands. She glanced at Erik’s on the steering wheel and sighed.

  “Rough afternoon?”

  “Horrible,” she said. “The state rested its case.”

  “Already?”

  “I should have seen it coming. I knew they were haystacking us—”

  “Haystacking?”

  “Putting so many names on the witness list. We didn’t know who they were going to call, but we knew they couldn’t possibly call everybody. The prosecutor made a clever move by calling only a handful of people so he could wrap up on a Friday, which means jurors have the entire weekend to ponder his case against Justin before the defense has a chance to put anyone on the stand.”

  “Sounds bad.”

  “It is. And today was Conlon’s best day. This afternoon, he put up evidence of gunshot residue on Justin’s hands and trace amounts of the victim’s DNA on Justin’s shirt.”

  “I thought it was a drive-by?”

  “Not exactly.” She closed her eyes and squeezed the bridge of her nose. “It was a drug deal gone wrong. The victim was standing right beside the car when he got shot, so it happened at very close range, hence the blood—according to Conlon. The bottom line? It’s not looking good for Justin.”

  It was an understatement. In truth, it looked dismal. Because of Conlon’s slick timing, the jury was going to spend the entire weekend mulling the evidence of Justin’s guilt.

  Feeling deflated, Brynn stared out the window at the sidewalk crowded with evening pedestrians. Downtown cleared out early on Friday afternoons, but people drove in, too, for the nightlife.

  Erik cleared his throat. “So. I had an idea.”

  “What?”

  “You up for a run?”

  “A run?”

  “Yeah, I was thinking you might want to blow off some steam, and we could go jogging. I know a nice outdoor track in a secure area.”

  Her eyebrows shot up with surprise. “Outdoor?”

  “Yeah. With birds and trees and fresh air,” he said, parroting her words from Sunday. “You up for it?”

  “Um, yeah, but I don’t have any clothes with me.”

  “I grabbed your workout gear from the chair in your bedroom.”

  He’d gone all the way back to the apartment? Now she really couldn’t say no. Plus, she was sick to death of being cooped up. It was making her stir-crazy. She looked over her shoulder at the back seat, and sure enough, there was a shopping bag she recognized, alongside a duffel that probably belonged to him.

  “Did you bring my sports bra?” she asked skeptically. If not, she wasn’t running anywhere.

  “Everything’s in there. I threw in your earbuds, too.”

  “And where is this secure area?”

  “A friend of mine’s DEA, and they’ve got a training campus about twenty minutes from here. They have a track, a firing range, an O-course.”

  “What’s an O-course?”

  “Obstacle course. This place has everything. My friend offered to get us
in on a visitor’s pass.”

  “Did he, now? Well, wasn’t that nice of him?”

  “You interested?”

  “That depends. You’re not going to make me climb a rope or scale a wall or anything, are you?”

  “The O-course is optional.”

  “I opt no. The track will be plenty for me.”

  He glanced at her. “So are you in?”

  “I’m in.”

  The training campus was beautiful—wooded paths, lush green grass, glimmering fish ponds—and being outdoors was heavenly. Even the distant snap-crackle-pop coming from the pistol range added to Brynn’s feeling of tranquility as she and Erik pounded along the track.

  It was five miles, though—a little feature Erik forgot to mention, probably because the distance was hardly noticeable to someone in prime athletic condition.

  Which he was. Wow. After changing into her workout gear and stepping out of the bathrooms near the trailhead, Brynn had been struck speechless by the sight of him stretching his legs against a tree. Wide shoulders, lean waist, muscular arms. She’d noticed it all before, but the details of his body were even more obvious as they stretched together and then started jogging side by side. In an olive-green T-shirt and cargo shorts, he looked like a Marine, which made him fit right in with all the law-enforcement types using the track.

  Mile one was fabulous. Erik set a nice, doable pace, and Brynn had no trouble keeping up with him. But the heat was a factor, and by mile two, she was soaked. At mile three, her quads started to burn, and by the time she reached the four-mile marker, she was fighting a cramp in her side.

  Just when she was about to wimp out and walk, a water fountain came into view.

  “Water break!” she yelped, sprinting ahead.

  He caught up to her, of course, and gave her a look of concern. “We can walk the rest, if you want.”

  “I’m fine!” She guzzled some water down, then dipped her forehead into the cool stream.

  “You sure?”

  She stepped back to give him a turn at the fountain. “Absolutely.”

  He took a brief sip, then straightened and looked her over. “No need to push.”

  “I’m not.”

  He lifted an eyebrow in a way that told her he knew she was full of bull.

  “Let’s go,” she said.

  He started up again but at a more relaxed pace.

  “You usually do four, so I figured five would be no problem. I wasn’t thinking about the heat.”

  “I have a confession.” She darted a look at him. “I usually do two miles. The four is just this week. You guys shamed me into it.”

  He looked at her. “We shamed you?”

  “Yes! You’re all muscle-bound action heroes.”

  “I don’t know about action heroes. But we try to stay in shape.”

  “Are you kidding? Your whole team could be out of a comic-book movie. I mean, Hayes could be Captain America.”

  She glanced at him, but she couldn’t read the look on his face now. She was definitely affected by all those long glances and hard stares. He had the silent badass thing going, and it totally worked for her. He had to know that, since she’d practically jumped him the other night in her bedroom.

  Thought you might want to blow off some steam.

  How thoughtful was that? Not just that he’d listened to what she said but that he’d noticed something she needed and rearranged his whole day to get it for her. She felt touched.

  “So,” she said, wanting to keep the conversation going. “Will we get to see this friend of yours? I’d like to thank him for getting us in here.”

  “He’s really more my brother’s friend than mine. They went through training together.”

  “Your brother’s a DEA agent?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How come I didn’t know this?”

  He didn’t respond, but the answer was obvious. Brynn knew almost nothing about his family because he was so guarded about his personal life. Meanwhile, everything about hers was on full display.

  “Tell me about the rest of your family,” she said. “I need something to get my mind off this heat.”

  He gave her a wary look. “What do you want to know?”

  “What do they do?”

  “My dad was a lieutenant colonel in the Marine Corps. He’s retired now, does some consulting for the Pentagon. My brother Jake is in the Marines, too. Just promoted to captain. And then there’s Brad, the youngest. He’s DEA.”

  “Damn. What a bunch of underachievers.”

  He smiled slightly.

  “Are you guys close?”

  The smile faded. “Not really. They’re all back east. I travel so much that I don’t get back there very often.”

  Brynn thought that was a shame. She’d always wished for a big, traditional family, and so many people who had them let the relationships go. Brynn was close to her mom and sister, but she wouldn’t recognize her father in a lineup. He’d walked out when she was three, and she hadn’t seen him since.

  “So your mom was a teacher,” she said. “Sounds like you guys are all about public service.”

  He didn’t comment.

  “You ever miss it? Being part of something big like that?”

  “What, you mean the Corps?”

  “And the Secret Service.”

  He got quiet, and the only sound was the rhythm of their breathing and the distant pop of gunfire. Brynn waited. Was he finally going to tell her why he’d left that job?

  “There are a lot of downsides,” he said. “The politics, the bureaucracy, the bullshit. I like working for Liam. Wolfe Sec is lean and agile. Any operation can turn on a dime in response to a threat. It allows us to be creative.”

  Brynn had never thought about personal security as creative. Her work was creative, too, although most people didn’t realize it.

  “Is working with Liam your dream job?”

  “There are some negatives. I’m on the road a lot. My hours are crazy. I’m hardly ever home.”

  “Now, there’s an interesting point. Where do you live, anyway?”

  “I’ve got an apartment near headquarters. It’s basically a crash pad. There’s nothing to it.”

  “Hmm.”

  He cut a glance at her. “What’s that mean?”

  “You don’t see your family. You’re rarely home. Do you ever get lonely?”

  “That’s not something I think about.”

  Which was different from a no. Maybe he dealt with it the same way she did—by doubling down on work.

  He glanced at her. “You want your music? Might pass the time easier.”

  “What, you don’t like to converse while you run?”

  “Not usually.”

  “Figures.”

  “What?”

  “You don’t like to talk about yourself.”

  “Yeah, well. Not everyone’s as extroverted as you.”

  “Actually, I’m a natural introvert. I used to be painfully shy.”

  He laughed.

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “If you say so.”

  “Really,” she said. “I was always the quietest kid in the class. Until I hit fourth grade.”

  “What happened in fourth grade?”

  “Kids started teasing me about my red hair. I don’t know what prompted it, but it kind of caught on.” She blew out a breath. “There was this one kid, Shannon Snyder. He was merciless. He came up behind me in the lunch line once, pulled my hair, and called me fire crotch. I didn’t even know what he meant. But the way he said it, I could tell it was something bad, and it made me really mad.”

  “What’d you do?”

  “I turned around and stomped his foot as hard as I could.”

  “Excellent.” Erik smiled.

  “Yeah, not so excellent when I got sent to the principal’s office.”

  “Let me guess. Detention?”

  “I got off with a stern warning.” She glanced at him. “I discove
red the benefit of having a clean record. But that’s how my shy phase came to an end.”

  Erik smiled again, and Brynn tried not to get distracted and miss a step. He was so handsome when he smiled, and he didn’t do it much. But he seemed relaxed out here with the grass and trees and distant gunfire.

  Brynn imagined what it would be like if they could be this way all the time.

  They rounded a curve, and finally the five-mile marker came into view. Brynn sprinted ahead to reach it first, then halted and bent over, gasping for air.

  “Five miles,” she wheezed. “I haven’t done that in ages.”

  Erik’s big running shoes appeared in her field of vision. She stood up to face him, dismayed by his easygoing expression while she gasped for oxygen. His face was slick, but he wasn’t even winded.

  “You good?” he asked.

  “Good? No. But you don’t need to get the paddles, if that’s what you’re worried about.” She staggered over to a water fountain and slurped some down.

  When she stood up, he was watching her calmly, hands on hips. He eased closer, towering over her, and her stomach fluttered as he reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, the same hair that had brought her so much grief in fourth grade but was now a socially acceptable shade of auburn.

  “I’m glad you’re not shy anymore,” he said. “And I’m sorry people tormented you in school.”

  “I’m over it.”

  “If I had to guess, this Shannon guy probably took some crap for having a girl’s name, and he was looking for someone to pick on.”

  “Hmm. You might be right about that.”

  “I’m also guessing he had a secret thing for you.”

  Her heart sped up as he gazed down at her. His eyes were a warm brown, and she wondered what he was thinking. She wanted him to kiss her. She wanted to kiss him, but she’d already done that. The next move was his.

  But he didn’t kiss her. He turned away, and they started walking back to the parking lot in silence. When they reached the SUV, Erik dug a key fob from his pocket and unlocked the rear cargo door. He twisted the cap off a water bottle and handed it to her.

  “Thanks.” She sighed and shook her head.

  “What?”

  “You didn’t even break a sweat.”