Reed’s gaze met hers briefly. “This has got vigilante justice written all over it,” he said in a grim tone. “The question is, why did they stop the attacks on the frat members and why have they started up again?”
Marina turned as much as her seat belt would allow. “I’ve got a theory on that, too. If we’re tagging the right suspects, they may have stopped because one of the women involved in the attack was in jail and then on probation. I’ll check, but I’m almost certain her probation ended within the last year.”
“So who’s the next victim?” Reed asked, accelerating onto the freeway.
Marina hesitated then shook her head. “I don’t know, but I was going to try to work that out tonight.”
“We’ll try to work it out tonight,” Reed confirmed.
“Fine.” Marina stiffened a smile and swallowed a snappy comeback. She hadn’t meant to leave Reed out of it. She’d simply been focused on solving the case.
“I’m not sticking around the damned office, either,” Reed continued. “Your place or mine?”
“Mine. I’ll even spring for dinner,” Marina said, thinking she could whip up something quick.
“What time should I show up?”
“Uh, six-thirty or seven.” The sudden rush of excitement caused her to lean forward and adjust the air conditioning vents. She reminded herself that this was not a date. Still, this would be the first time Reed would visit her new place.
“Do you want me to bring anything?” Reed’s question cut into her quick mental survey of what she could serve for dinner.
“Just yourself and all your case info. I’ll have everything else we need.”
Back at the station they stopped in the office to get their files. Reed took some time to go brief his captain on their progress. Marina called into her office and updated Spaulding. He was adamant that they arrange protection for the potential frat victims as soon as they were identified.
As Marina drove home she was a bundle of nerves and tension. Inwardly she chastised herself for getting so excited about seeing a guy she’d dumped. The truth was that she’d made a mistake and despite her attempts to move on, something inside her still quickened at the sight of Reed. Could she turn things around? Should she even try?
Through pure force of will Marina turned her thoughts to catching the serial killer. The task force investigation had been going smoothly so far. She liked brainteasers, gathering and analyzing information to find serial killers, but she wasn’t dumb enough to think that the killer would sit on his or her hands in the meantime. In the back of her thoughts was the fear that through action or inaction she might not be able to save the next victim. It sobered her and counterbalanced her hormonal reaction to Reed Crawford. If it killed her, she and Reed would make real progress on the case tonight.
CHAPTER 8
Marina rushed home in a quandary about what she could cook fast that would be enjoyed by both her and Reed. She had all the ingredients for asopao de pollo—chicken soup—in the refrigerator, but she wasn’t sure Reed would like it. She toyed with the idea of making spaghetti, which was quick and pretty universal.
Half the spaghetti ingredients were on the granite kitchen counter when visions of a wildly romantic spaghetti dinner complete with wine, candles, garlic bread and salad assailed her. Marina froze with a large pot in her hands. She didn’t want to give Reed the wrong impression. What’s the right impression? she wondered idly as she placed the pot on the stove and put all the ingredients back into the refrigerator and cabinet except for the onions and green pepper. She had no answer for that question.
Opening her refrigerator again, Marina removed the chicken and salt pork, cured ham, chili peppers, tomatoes, chorizos and pimentos. Then she retrieved the oregano, garlic and rice from the cabinet. She was going to make her family’s version of asopao de pollo.
With the soup cooking, Marina hurried into her room to find something to wear. “This is not a date. This is not a date,” she repeated out loud as she went through all her clothes twice and found nothing suitable.
In desperation, she removed the suit she’d worn to work and hung it up. Then she found her best-looking jeans and pulled them on. With her full breasts and a tendency to sweat, she had to be careful what she wore on top. She pawed through tube tops and sleeveless shells with visions of Reed trying not to stare at her chest all night. Finally she settled on a short-sleeved, striped cotton blouse. Stepping into her favorite sandals, she brushed her hair and pulled it into a ponytail.
Reed arrived at six forty-five with two bottles of soda and a bottle of wine. His eyes darkened as he took in her appearance appreciatively and stopped just short of staring. “You look different.”
“Is that good or bad?”
“Good. Definitely good.”
His words made her smile. “Come in,” she said, remembering her manners, “and let me take that bag.”
“We don’t have to drink the wine tonight since we’ll be working,” he explained.
“Of course not,” she agreed, taking the bag and liking the silent implication that they would be together to drink it at another time. She thanked him for the beverages.
“I’ve got to get my briefcase and files from the car,” he announced.
Glancing out the open entryway behind him, she saw that he’d left his car door ajar. “Do you need help?”
“No, I’ve got it.” Reed turned and went back down the steps. He returned shortly with his briefcase and a stack of files. Closing the door, Marina showed him to the desk area she’d set up for them.
“Dinner smells good,” he remarked, sniffing the air and looking around. “What is it?”
“Asopao de pollo, which is chicken soup.” Marina eased some of her papers aside to give him more room. “I’m serving it with rice.”
“Sounds good.”
“I hope you like it,” she responded, pulling out her chair and sitting.
Reed settled into his. “I can’t imagine you cooking anything I wouldn’t like.”
Marina rolled her eyes. “Oh, now you’re just shamelessly sucking up.”
“Yeah, it was, wasn’t it?” Reed asked, chuckling.
“We eat in about an hour,” she announced.
“Then we’d better get started on our analysis,” he remarked. “Let’s do potential victims first, since we’re going to have to set up protection for them.”
“Did you get pounded on that one, too?” Marina asked.
Reed nodded, opened a folder and pulled out a disc and a list. “Your disc or mine?”
“Mine. My computer’s on and I have my spreadsheet up.” She studied his list, which didn’t look much different than her own. “So what do all the victims have in common besides Merriwhether and the Alpha Kappa Epsilon fraternity?”
“We already know that they shared a couple of classes. If necessary, we could get the class lists from Merriwhether. All were accused of rape or assault on the Merriwhether campus,” Reed interjected.
Marina bit down on the top of her pen. “Were they all maybe guilty of assaulting the same female student?”
They checked through their respective piles of information. There were a couple of incidents where each of the victims so far had been accused of rape or assault. Reed’s and Marina’s gazes synched over the files. Had they found the most important link between the victims?
“Let’s write this one down, note the names of victims and accused, and keep looking,” she suggested. Her fingers were already typing the information into her spreadsheet.
Next they checked the rank order of the dates cited in the complaints against frat members against the order of the deaths. There was no visible correlation.
“Let’s try something easy, like last names?” Reed suggested, scanning his list. “If you went alphabetically, Russell, Edwards, Washington…No, it doesn’t work.”
Marina tapped her pencil on the desk. “How about Aubrey, Colton and Elliot? That’s alphabetically correct and that’s th
e order in which they were killed.”
“Works for me! Put that on the spreadsheet,” Reed said in a voice filled with energy.
When she was done, he asked, “So who’s the next potential victim?”
She scanned her list. “Next three potential victims. Flint Huber, Gerry Chandler and Harrison Hicks, but I need to scrub this list again to make sure the names are right and that we’ve got all the contact information.”
“Hey, Flint Huber is the alderman in my area,” Reed noted. “Give me what you’ve got and I’ll get it to the captain. He can assign a clerk to start the process of contacting them and arranging for protection.”
“I think we’ve earned our dinner,” Marina said as she finished typing in the last of their ideas. She printed a copy of the list and let Reed use her fax machine.
Washing her hands, she ladled soup and rice into bowls and put them on the table. She noticed that they’d actually worked an hour and a half. It was good that she’d kept the soup at a low simmer.
Reed washed his hands, too, found glasses and filled them with ice and soda.
They sat to eat in an atmosphere of warmth and easy camaraderie. She watched carefully, almost as if it were a sort of test as he tried the soup.
“Mmm, it’s good.” Reed nodded and began to eat with gusto.
Taking fresh air into her lungs, Marina realized that it had been a test of sorts. Despite the years she’d known Reed, she’d never cooked for him.
They ate, keeping up an easy flow of conversation. He made her laugh with a couple of jokes and a funny story about one of his partners. Afterward, she served fresh fruit salad and chocolate cake.
Reed ate heartily. “This is better than my mother’s,” he claimed, scarfing down his second piece of cake, “but if you tell her, I’ll call you a liar.”
Marina laughed and contented herself with the fruit salad. She’d already had more than enough of that chocolate cake.
Once the food was put away and the dishes done, they realized that it was getting late and they were tired. “I was looking forward to seeing what else we could come up with,” she confessed as Reed gathered his files.
Reed shoved folders into his briefcase and snapped it shut. “Me, too. We can continue this in the morning.”
She agreed.
Reed lingered, his hand on his briefcase.
In the expectant silence Marina held herself in check. If this had been a date she would have kissed him. Lord knew she wanted to. Professional behavior was ingrained in her, so she tried not to stare at his soft lips. “See you in the morning?” she asked finally.
For a split second he actually looked disappointed. Recovering quickly he nodded and smiled. Then he thanked her for dinner and headed for the door.
Marina held the door open as he stepped out with his briefcase and files. Inches separated them but the heated energy of attraction between them made her heart race. She sucked in a deep breath.
In that moment their glances caught and held. What she saw in his eyes melted her insides. Pure unadulterated desire fueled the fire. On watery legs she leaned against the doorway, drowning in the no-man’s-land between real and anticipated sensation and emotion.
He set the files on top of the briefcase and lifted a hand to smooth a loose strand of hair back from her face.
Trembling, she wet her lips.
“We did good tonight,” he said in a husky voice.
“Yes,” she murmured, riding the edge of excitement.
“Maybe even did enough to save Flint’s life, huh?”
Swallowing, she didn’t answer. Despite Reed’s words about the task force, on a physical and emotional level they were really talking about something entirely different.
The telephone rang. Marina started, coming out of her daze. What was she doing lingering here with Reed?
He blinked, shifting his feet and regrouping as the phone continued to ring in a loud, annoying fashion that could not be ignored. “You’d better get that,” he suggested finally.
“Yes.” She forced her awkward limbs to work, praying she wouldn’t trip and fall. Lifting the receiver she spoke into the phone, “Hello?”
“Marina?” Javier’s voice filled her ears. “You sound funny. Are you okay?”
She cleared her throat. “Yes, Dad, I—I’m fine.”
In the doorway Reed waved at her and turned to pull the door shut behind him.
“Let me call you back in a few minutes,” she suggested, replacing the phone. Going to the window, she watched Reed get into his car and back out of her driveway. Then she went to the kitchen to fix herself a big glass of cold water. Drinking it with shaking fingers, she let herself acknowledge what had almost happened. If Reed had kissed her she would have fallen apart. Hell, she’d virtually fallen apart anyway. Gulping down the water she tried to cool off.
Still feeling a pleasant buzz from the celebration party for the new office building, Alderman Flint Huber enjoyed the night air, the breeze on his face, and let his imagination wander as to how the evening would end with his beautiful blond companion. The husky sweet sound of her voice sent chills through him and she was just this side of voluptuous with legs to die for and luscious lips. In the back of his thoughts he knew that somehow, somewhere, he’d seen her before, but how could he forget a woman like this?
At his side, but just a little in front of him, she pranced almost playfully in her heels, smiling coyly. He followed like a dog in heat, surprised when she stopped at the area where earlier today he’d help cut the ribbon signifying the start of construction.
“I want a private tour,” she said, adding a low laugh.
He laughed, too, watching as she slipped into the loosely chained opening and picked her way across the dirt. He studied her ass, wondering if she was as toned as she looked beneath that sexy black dress.
She turned, lifting her skirt a little. “Coming?”
“Absolutely.” Flint thought fleetingly of his driver who also doubled as security for him. He’d sent the man on an errand and promised to stay at the celebration until he returned. He realized that he should have let someone know where he was going, but then, he didn’t want any witnesses to what was about to go down between him and his blond companion.
What was her name again? Carrie? Karen?
It doesn’t matter anyway, Flint decided as he slipped through the gate. He figured that names had nothing to do with what they wanted from each other.
A hotel would have been better, but Flint wasn’t quibbling since he liked to get a little freaky every now and then. One of those linen-covered tables or one of the soft mounds of dirt would make this memorable.
He caught up with her just inside the tent. She pulled him into a hot, wet kiss, her wild tongue making all sorts of promises. He slid a hand up her dress.
With a low laugh, she quickly moved away. “Drinks first.”
Flint blinked in surprise. He hadn’t seen her take anything from the celebration. “You brought something?”
“Mmm-hmm.” She opened her bag to reveal two small bottles of white wine. Twisting the caps off both, she offered him one.
He accepted and they both drank to his toast: “To good times.”
Backing away from him, she scooted up on the linen-covered table, lifting one leg provocatively. When he started to follow, she stopped him. “No, you have to finish your drink first because I don’t want any interruptions. Understand?” As if to show him how, she turned up her bottle and finished it.
With his eyes on the tantalizing view, Flint followed suit. Finishing, he almost dropped the bottle. He felt light-headed and a bit numb. He didn’t remember drinking that much.
The blonde was on her side, beckoning him on with curled finger. He started toward her. It didn’t quite go as he’d planned. His body moved, but his coordination was off. He stumbled.
“Come on, baby, show me what you’ve got,” she taunted, still smiling.
He tried for a snappy answer, but his words were
slurred. His mouth was dry, too, with a funny taste. He wondered what was happening to him. He hoped he’d still be able to sample the blonde.
Flint stumbled, and this time he fell. He tried to work his limbs. He couldn’t get up.
“I’ll come to you baby,” the blonde said in the sweet, husky voice.
A Serial Affair Page 9