“Are you two finished?” Kara interrupted, annoyed. “You sound like two high school twits and it’s giving me a headache. Are you ready to work or not?”
Dillon leaned conspiratorially toward Matthew and said in a whisper, “Look what we have to deal with when she hasn’t had her coffee yet. We should get hazard pay.”
Matthew almost smiled. “Got anything new?”
Kara’s brows pulled into a faint frown as she answered reluctantly. “It’s just a weird hunch…but I want to go over the details of each victim again. Something about that nursery rhyme is stuck in my head. There’s got to be a clue we’re missing.”
“That’s the whole point, isn’t it?” Dillon said grimly. “The Babysitter wants to stump us. He thinks he’s going to outsmart us.”
“Right. And what kind of person has an ego like that?”
“A genius,” Matthew put in, and Kara nodded.
“Exactly. I think we’re looking for someone with an above-average intelligence and a superiority complex. Start compiling data on the universities with gifted programs in the cities where the vics were found. Something tells me our perp likes to be around people who also think they’re smart just so he can show them up. This person has a sizable ego. He’s going to want to show off just how smart he is.”
“What makes you go there?” Dillon asked.
“The nursery rhyme itself. D’Marcus pulled some historical data on the rhyme, origin, meaning, things like that. I didn’t think anything of it at first but as I reread the findings, I found that the rhyme has all these hidden meanings.”
“Oh, goody, a history lesson,” Dillon said, rolling his eyes. “Go on. I’m all ears.”
“The rhyme goes all the way back to seventeenth-century England, then it eventually spread to the colonies. But it was a work song used by weavers using large loom racks.”
“That makes perfect sense,” Dillon interjected sourly. “I’m sure there’s some kind of point coming?”
“Shut up and let her finish,” Matthew said, interested in seeing where Kara was going with this. “Go on.”
“Monkey and weasel were slang for the children they employed to sit inside these huge industrial loom machines and chase the loom shuttle around, unsticking it when it got off track and correcting any mis-weaves that happened as a result. The weavers started calling the kids ‘monkeys’ and ‘weasels’ because of all the hopping back and forth they did with their job and because they had to weave in and out of narrow passages between the racks like little weasels.”
“A lot of kids died back then in the weaving factories,” Matthew said, nodding. “Dark. Just like most nursery rhymes. Fitting. But how does that tie into the Babysitter?”
“I don’t know,” Kara admitted. “But I know there’s something there. That’s why I want the team to research the universities for their gifted students. You know they say there’s a fine line between genius and crazy. It’s obvious our perp crossed the line between the two.”
“I’ll get D’Marcus trolling the university records and let you know if anything comes up. In the meantime, I’m going to see if Tana has those sample results you collected from the paranoid old man,” Dillon said, and disappeared from the room.
“He’s good, right?” Matthew asked, still eyeing the door where Dillon went out. “I mean, he’s some kind of wunderkind, right?”
Kara’s smile was brief and fatigued. “My entire team are experts in their field. And Dillon’s no kid. He’s our age. Good genes, I guess. Why?”
“I don’t like him.”
“Why not?” She looked puzzled.
“Maybe the accent. Maybe it’s the fact he looks like Brad Pitt and talks like Hugh Grant.” Matthew shrugged. “Maybe it’s just because he got the chance to know my daughter when I didn’t.” Damn it, he hadn’t meant to say that, but like Kara, he wasn’t operating on much sleep and his mouth had gotten the better of him. Thankfully, he got a hold of his faculties before he let slip that he was torqued by the fact that it was obvious Dillon had slid into the spot that he should have occupied. As a mentor to Briana. And that above all else put him in a really foul mood. He told himself he could give a shit who Kara had in her life, but he resented that anyone but him could be close to his daughter. But now all that mattered was Briana. At least that much was true.
“She calls him Uncle Dillon,” Kara acknowledged. “He’s the closest thing to a father figure she’s ever known even though Dillon’s not what one would call conventionally father-figure-ish. Still, he’s a good man. You should give him a chance.”
“I have enough friends. I just want to find my daughter and once she’s home, I will be her father.”
“You’ve made your point, Matthew,” Kara said, her back stiffening. “You don’t need to ram it home with a ball-peen hammer.”
Rubbing at his eyes, he willed the banging headache he was getting to go away. She was right. He was being a jerk. There’d be plenty of time for that later when they were haggling over custody and birthdays and…suddenly a thought occurred to him. “When was she born?”
Kara inhaled a short breath as if needing the strength, then answered, “September 17.”
“That’s my mother’s birthday.”
“I know.”
If that didn’t beat all… He shook his head. “I know you had your reasons and they probably seemed pretty solid at the time but…I wish to God you’d told me. That’s all I’ll say about it for the time being. But—” he eyed her solemnly and he almost detected a delicate shudder in her frame “—when this is all said and done…”
“I get it, Matthew.” Whatever Kara was feeling was gone in the next minute when her gaze hardened and there was nothing but an FBI special agent left behind. “But for now, stow it. We’ve got work to do,” she said.
Matthew smothered the grin that tugged at his mouth. For whatever it was worth, Kara Thistle had grown up to be one tough chick.
And, he kind of respected that.
Kara was onto something, she could feel it buzzing at the back of her skull, gnawing at her consciousness, demanding that she dig deeper.
And, there was something else, too. She couldn’t deny it. She’d heard a child’s voice singing even though she knew there was no one in the room aside from her. She’d never been the superstitious type, never one to believe in fairy tales or ghost stories, but it was hard to shake the idea that something otherworldly was in on this case. Was it Hannah’s ghost? She shuddered at the thought and then immediately felt silly for even thinking it. Ghosts. She exhaled a short breath and shook her head at the ridiculous direction of her thoughts. But…the more she thought about it, the more there was no getting away from the fact that twice she’d heard things that couldn’t be there.
She groaned and stuffed the rest of her Danish in her mouth. She’d brought it with her when she and Matthew had returned to her room to continue on with their work.
“What’s wrong?” Matthew asked, looking up from the topographical map he was studying.
“Nothing,” she grumbled. Like she was going to share that particular tidbit with Matthew. He’d think she was bonkers. Hell, she was one step away from thinking that herself. “Just frustrated.”
He nodded, accepting her answer. “I know the feeling. How do you handle this kind of pressure day in and day out?”
“It’s my job,” she answered simply.
“Helluva way to earn a paycheck. How did you raise a child with the hours you keep?”
“I had Mai to help me.” Kara leaned back in her chair but avoided making eye contact. Talking about Mai was hard now that she was gone. They’d become more than employee and employer; they were friends. “I met Mai in Chinatown. I was looking for an address on a perp we were tracking and she was looking for work. She just so happened to live in the building where we ended up and even though the perp wasn’t there, I discovered she was looking for a nanny position. She was first-generation immigrant from Vietnam and she came here to make money for her fami
ly.”
“Did she speak English?”
“Enough but her accent was pretty thick. For a while it was hard to decipher what she was saying but we worked it out and she came to love Briana like her own. I couldn’t have asked for a better nanny than Mai.” She pushed down the lump that had risen in her throat. It took a moment before she could continue. “I need to call her family. I’m sure they’ve already been contacted but I need to talk to them personally.”
“She was a live-in nanny, I assume?”
Kara nodded. “Like you said, with the hours I keep, I needed someone who could be there 24/7.”
“Doesn’t leave much room for a life,” he commented, and she bristled.
“Mai loved her job and I paid her well. I paid her enough to eventually move her family from Vietnam to here.”
“I wasn’t talking about Mai,” he corrected her softly, and her ire deflated like a punctured tire.
“Sorry. I guess I’m a little defensive about that. It was something I worried about with Mai but she always assured me she loved her job and had more time off than she needed. But you’re right…neither of us have…had…much of a life to speak of. Briana was at the center of both our worlds. If Mai had survived, she’d likely be suicidal right now. She’d blame herself over what happened.”
“Like you?”
Unexpected tears sprang to her eyes. How did he still know her so well after all these years? She blinked away the moisture but gave a jerky nod.
“It’s not your fault,” he said gruffly, and she looked at him in surprise.
“How is it not? I led this maniac straight to her. I put her in harm’s way with the very nature of my job.”
“Don’t go there. I’m sure you are a good mother.”
“How can you say that when I’ve kept her from you all these years?”
He looked at her squarely. “I said you are a good mother…not a good person. And I can say that because I know you, Kara. You have a loving heart—if not always the best judgment.”
“Gee, thanks.”
He shrugged. “You asked.”
“You’re right, I did. I won’t make that mistake again.”
He chuckled in spite of the tense set of her shoulders, and the sound reached deep down into the pit of her belly and warmed the chunk of ice settled there. A grudging smile followed. So much had changed, yet Matthew at his core remained the same. Solid, dependable…and a straight shooter.
“Do you miss Neal?” she asked, knowing full well she should probably steer clear from that discussion, but what the hell, she figured. She was curious as to his answer.
“Of course I miss him. He was my best friend. Do you miss him?” There was an edge to his voice but Kara didn’t take offense. She’d expected as much. “You’re the one who left him behind, not me.”
“I didn’t leave Neal behind,” Kara said softly. “He chose to stay.”
“Whatever.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Kara, Neal told me what happened. There’s no need to try to clean it up for my sake.”
She stared at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”
The hard edge returned to his eyes and his mouth tightened. “Kara, you left Lantern Cove behind when you no longer had any use for it. You used Neal to get into the department and to put you through school to get your degree. Then when you got accepted into the bureau, you split. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that one out, but Neal told me that when you left you told him that you’d never loved him and you were glad to finally leave us all behind.”
Kara could only stare. Neal said that? Why would he spread such lies? When Kara didn’t say anything, Matthew continued with a curt shake of his head. “You destroyed him just as sure as that car took his life. You had to know that your words would’ve devastated him. You were his world.”
Yes, she did know that. She’d carried the burden of that knowledge for years and finally had to stow it away in a deep, dark place in order to function after he died.
But she never would have imagined that Neal would spread lies about her to Matthew, of all people.
“And you believed him?” was all she asked.
“Of course I believed him.” Matthew looked taken aback. “Why wouldn’t I?”
She shrugged. “Why indeed.” What was the point of dragging all this out now? Neal was long gone. But it rankled that Matthew thought so little of her character that he’d automatically believed something so awful of her when Matthew had always known her better than anyone—even Neal.
Her brain said let it go but she just couldn’t. For some reason she couldn’t let Matthew believe that she was that kind of person. It was bad enough she’d kept his daughter from him. She wasn’t going to allow him to think she could’ve hurt Neal like that.
“I never said that to Neal,” she said quietly, watching for Matthew’s reaction. “He lied to you.”
“Neal never lied to me,” Matthew said, refusing to believe her.
“He did. Neal was a phenomenal liar. He probably would’ve made a decent operative in the CIA or some other agency where honesty is subjective to the situation. Did you know that Neal and I tested together for the bureau?”
Just as she knew it would, the news shocked Matthew. “What?”
“Yeah. Except he wasn’t accepted. He didn’t pass the psych test. I begged him to come with me when I left. I put my pride aside and begged him. He refused. He demanded—not asked—that I stay. He wanted me to choose between him and my career. I knew I couldn’t stay here in Lantern Cove forever. It would’ve killed me.”
There was another reason she desperately needed to get away and it had everything to do with Matthew. That night together had done more than create a child; it had sparked a hunger she’d never known was there and it had scared the shit out of her. She couldn’t have feelings for Matthew. She was in love with Neal. And so she’d been eager to run.
“I figured after he calmed down, I could talk him into coming with me. But he died before I got the chance.”
Matthew sat silent, the struggle apparent on his face, but there was anguish there, too. She knew what he was feeling. She’d seen sides of Neal that were hidden to the world. Love was blind but somewhere, deep down, Kara had known that Neal’s character was weak. But it was so easy to forgive him his little transgressions, for Neal had a way of charming the skin from a snake.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She barked a short, mirthless laugh. “Tell you what? Would you have listened?” She shook her head and said, “Don’t kid yourself. You were just as loyal to Neal as I was. You never would’ve listened and I didn’t want to drive a wedge between you. I figured you and I had done enough damage.”
It was the first time she’d mentioned their night together. Sure, it was there between them because they’d already acknowledged that they’d made a child as a result, but neither had mentioned the reason they’d fallen into each other’s arms that long-ago night.
The memory should have been distant and faded with the passage of time but it had never lost its power to make her draw a sharp breath each time she ventured there in her mind.
That in itself had always bothered her. She’d always chalked it up to guilt, that her mind wouldn’t let her forget because she was ashamed for betraying the love of her life with his best friend. But being here with Matthew again made her wonder if the reasons were different.
Fabulous timing, she thought darkly.
“Did you tell Neal about us?” Matthew asked.
She shook her head vehemently. “God, no. I wanted a life with him. I doubt that would’ve gone over very well. Why? Did you tell him?” she asked, suddenly very keen to know if Neal had gone to his grave knowing how they’d betrayed him.
To her relief, Matthew said, “No. I wanted to but I didn’t. Still, sometimes I wondered if he somehow knew.”
Kara brushed aside Matthew’s speculation. “No. He’d have sa
id something if he’d known.”
“Perhaps.”
Matthew’s pensive look gave Kara an unsettled feeling in her gut. “What?”
“It’s probably nothing.” He paused as if he were waging an internal battle on what to say next—if anything at all—and then continued with a troubled grimace. “But the night he died…he did say something that has always bothered me.”
Kara realized she was clenching her fists under the table and slowly loosened them. “What did he say?”
“He said, ‘There are some things that we’re just not meant to have.’”
A shudder rocked through her. So damn cryptic. And so like Neal. He’d always enjoyed playing with words. “I’m sure it doesn’t mean anything.”
“Probably not. He’d been drinking down at Tally’s and was feeling pretty low. I tried to get him to go home and sleep it off but he assured me that he’d get a ride home soon. I was on duty that night or else I would’ve just stayed with him. That was the last time I saw him alive.”
“He was drunk when he wrecked?”
“Yeah,” Matthew admitted. “The only good thing is that he was probably so far gone he never felt a thing when the impact struck. At least, that’s my hope.”
She swallowed. “Do you…think it was suicide?”
Matthew’s mouth tightened and he looked away. His answering shrug gave it away. “You do.”
He turned to look at her, his eyes full of pain and guilt. “Yeah. I should’ve seen it coming. He was so depressed, worse than I’d ever seen before. But somehow, I thought he’d pull through.”
“It’s not your fault,” she murmured, but there was guilt for her, too. “Neal made his own choice.” The words were easy to say but she knew it wasn’t that simple to believe them. Still, she said them, anyway.
Silence sat between them for a long moment, then Kara ventured, morbid curiosity getting the best of her, “You said…his last words were of me…what did he say?”
Matthew looked so sad that Kara felt an undeniable pull to go to him but she resisted. She didn’t know how well that kind of action would go over with Matthew and she wasn’t up to being rejected in her current emotional state. Matthew sighed, then shook his head. “Listen, I shouldn’t have said that earlier. I was just being vindictive. Forget I said it.”
To Catch a Killer Page 8