His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes when he leaned down to give her a quick kiss hello, mindful of being in her place of business. She knew he was stressed with the murder case he was working on, and yesterday’s discovery of another victim hadn’t helped. This one had disappeared after leaving her job as a waitress in one of the local strip clubs two nights ago. Her body had been found near a dog park. Sean had spared her the details, but from what Grace had heard on the news, and the haunted look in his eyes, she knew it was worse than she could imagine.
He kept his voice low so as not to be overheard. “Hi. Just had to get out of headquarters for a bit. My car kind of steered itself over here. Must have known how much I needed to see your pretty face.”
Her giggle seemed to relax him some. “Remind me to treat it to a premium oil change next time it’s due.”
“I’m sure my car will appreciate it.” He leaned against the therapy table she’d been using while updating the files. “I spoke to Suki earlier—she said to say hello.”
“Did she have any new insight for you?”
Sean shook his head. “Other than she thinks he’s going to continue shortening his time between kills, no. We have another press conference this afternoon. I swear since the reporter was killed, every major news channel from around the country has shown up. My office sent over two more agents and the troopers have added a few more detectives. We’ve got hundreds of tips coming into the hotline, but aside from a handful of potential leads, they haven’t been worth squat.” He sighed heavily. “Then again, none of the potential leads panned out either.”
Grace laid her hand on his forearm. “You’ll catch him. I have faith in you.”
“I just hope it’s sooner, rather than later. And now to top everything else off, we have the politicians on our asses to solve this. As if we’ve been sitting around playing solitaire, or something, on our computers all day.” He shifted his arm so her hand slid into his. “Anyway, enough about that. How’s business going?”
“Great. We had two more referrals today.”
Tim must have caught his eye because Sean raised his hand in a brief greeting over Grace’s shoulder, before returning his attention to her. “That’s fantastic. I think you’ll do well here.” His hand went to one of her blonde curls and gave it a gentle tug. “Sweet and spicy . . . gorgeous and intelligent. It’s a hell of a combination.”
She gave him a suggestive grin and murmured, “You’re just saying that to get in my bed again tonight.”
The response she got was exactly what she was hoping for. His eyes brightened as they flashed to her breasts and back up to her face. He stared at her mouth as his tone became husky and as smooth as a fine whiskey, and the corners of his mouth tilted upward in a sexy smirk. “I kind of thought that was a given after the way you screamed my name last night. Poor Rico has a banshee for a mom now—at least when I’m making her cum.”
Thank goodness her back was to the others in the large room, and they were far enough away not to have overheard what had made her blush as desire coursed through her body. Grace didn’t think she’d ever get enough of this man. “I seem to recall you shouting my name a few times, along with a hallelujah or two thrown in.”
A bark of laughter escaped him, and Grace was happy to see him truly grin for the first time since he’d walked in. “Well, I guess my car was right. Seeing you was just what I needed. Do you think anyone would notice if we locked ourselves in the laundry closet and fucked like rabbits?”
“Um, yeah . . . I think we just established we are both loud when it comes to that activity.”
“Ha!” He shook his head. “All right, it will have to wait until later. But be warned, sweetheart, it’s going to be hot, sweaty, and dirty. Then we’ll shower and do it all over again.”
“Promises, promises.”
“Uh-uh. That’s a guarantee.” Sean gave her another kiss, this one lingering a little longer than the first, and it made her wish the day was over so they could finish what they both wanted to start. “I’ll call you later when I have a better idea of what time I’ll be off of work. How does Chinese takeout sound for dinner? I’m not in the mood to clean dishes or cook . . . unless the cooking is in the bedroom.”
She chuckled at his erotic leer. “Chinese and cooking in the bedroom sound perfect to me, lover boy.”
* * *
Anger and frustration simmered in Sean’s gut as he studied the pictures of the murdered women pinned on the wall of the training classroom on the lower level of the sheriff’s department. Due to the increase in personnel needed, they’d moved the task force into a bigger room.
Becky Travis. Shannon Emmerson. Daphne Jones. Jessica Daly. And yesterday’s victim, Whitney Wells. Five women. All brutally murdered in the prime of their lives. Add in the three from Pennsylvania and the bastard was rising within the ranks of some of the most prolific serial killers in recent history. The press was having a field day—every day—especially since one of their own vultures had become a victim.
The only thing they’d been able to solve out of this whole mess had been who’d been leaking the information to Daly before her murder. Deputy Larry Cumberland’s cell phone number had appeared at least three times a week on the list of calls associated with the reporter’s cell and work phones. The fucker had been leaking information to her, and other reporters, in exchange for sex and money. After Sheriff Griffin reamed Cumberland a new asshole, he’d stripped him of his badge and gun, and suspended him pending formal charges being filed. Thirteen years on the job had gone up in smoke for a little extra cash and some nookie—Sean hoped the fucks and blow jobs had been worth it, but he doubted it.
Rafe and Brian walked into the room, drawing Sean’s attention. He glanced at the clock and noticed there were only a few minutes until the press conference started.
“You sure about this?” Brian asked him.
Sean frowned but nodded. “Yeah. Daly pissed him off and he veered from his norm. Suki thinks he may screw up if I piss him off. If you’ve got a better suggestion, let’s hear it, because I’m getting tired of spinning our wheels here. None of the tips have panned out. He’s got no DNA on record, so the sample we got from under Daphne Jones’s fingernails doesn’t do us any good. Whether we antagonize him or not, it’s a near certainty he’s already planning his next homicide, so maybe we can shake him up enough that we can get a fucking clue as to who this bastard is.”
Leaning against the table, Brian crossed his arms. “If you want, I’ll do it.” When his younger brother narrowed his eyes in confusion, he continued. “What happens if this guy decides to target you? You’ve got Grace to think about now. I’m not seeing anyone.”
Since they’d celebrated Easter Sunday with KC, Moriah, Brian, Dan, and Bonnie, everyone knew about the couple’s new relationship now and had all expressed their happiness over the union. It had gotten to the point Sean couldn’t remember what it was like not to have Grace’s sunshine in his life. He was falling hard for her and she’d told him the feeling was mutual.
Sean shook his head. He’d worried about making Grace a target, but decided to take precautions to ensure her safety. He’d do everything he could to protect her, but if another woman was targeted specifically because of what Sean was about to do, he’d never forgive himself. “No. I’ll make sure Grace stays safe—I’ll talk to her tonight. When she’s working, Dan can keep an eye out from across the street, and she has Tim inside the clinic—I’ll give him a head’s up, too. And besides, it probably wouldn’t matter whether you were seeing someone or not. All he’s got to do is associate any woman to you—neighbor, friend, coworker. No. It’ll also look odd if it doesn’t come from the FBI.”
A knock on the door jamb had them looking up. “Ready?” Matt asked, with Brad behind him.
Standing, Sean grabbed his carefully worded speech. “Yeah. I went over everything with Suki. She watched all of Daly’s newscasts about the UNSUB and thinks what set him off was the name-calling. Barbaria
n, savage, and sadist were the words Daly used. Suki said I should use them and a few others.”
“All right. Let’s go piss off a psycho then.”
They followed the sheriff down the hall toward the lobby. Along the way, Rafe cleared his throat as he walked next to Sean. “So, um, how was Suki when you spoke to her? Is she coming back to update the profile?”
Sean raised an eyebrow in curiosity and amusement. The other man definitely had a big-time crush on the good doctor. “She’s fine. And, no, she has no plans to come here. She can update the profile from her office.” He paused, then teased, “Want me to pass her a note from you at recess?”
“Fuck you, man,” he grumbled in a low voice. “She’s hot, and I liked the view. Nothing more.”
Uh-huh. Like Sean believed that—not. But as they hit the front doors leading out to the press conference, his mind went back into professional mode.
The parking lot was teeming with reporters jockeying for the ideal spot to capture the news conference. CNN, MSNBC, FOX News were there. Hell, even a news team from the BBC had shown up. Dare County’s Seaside Strangler was now international news and fodder for the true-crime fans.
Griffin took the podium first and released the name of the latest victim and some other information that was just a spin on what they’d release yesterday and the days before that. He then introduced FBI Special Agent Malone, and Sean stepped forward, placed his speech on the podium, and prepared to poke a rabid bear.
CHAPTER
17
Driving to work, George couldn’t believe his luck. The karma gods must have been shining on him because the jogger who’d just passed him, when he’d slowed while approaching a stop sign, was none other than that fucking federal pig. He was certain of it after having watched the news conference over and over last night, as his blood boiled with rage.
The fucking fed didn’t get it—none of them did. The cops, reporters, friends and family of the whores he killed would never understand. Why couldn’t they see he was making the world a better place by ridding it of the worthless trash? No, all they did was sit around and call him the same things that bitch had called him—a savage, a sadist, a barbarian. But this asshole had gone further—calling him weak, a loser, dysfunctional, and worst of all, a coward.
He’d show them he wasn’t a coward—starting with the fed. Turning in the direction the bastard had gone, he knew exactly what he needed do to prove his worth, and get the pigs to see he meant business.
* * *
Sean’s pulse and breathing were in their target range as his feet slapped against the pavement while he jogged through the streets of Whisper. Two miles down, two to go. He wished he hadn’t unintentionally left his headphones and MP3 player at the sheriff’s department yesterday. After he’d given his speech at the press conference, he’d needed to shut everyone else out for a bit. The music had relaxed him as he’d read through all the reports from interviews that had been generated from the tip line. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust everyone to know their jobs, but he’d been hoping that something might jump out at him that had been overlooked. It had been a fruitless effort.
Taking a random right, he alternated his route as he usually did. It was a way to remind him not to be complacent. Passing the empty playground of the local elementary school, his mind drifted from the case to the woman who’d rocked his world last night, and hell, the night before that, too! It was Saturday, so the therapy center was closed, and she’d gone with Bonnie to a yoga class this morning. He’d invited her to go for a run with him, but she’d confessed running bored her to tears. She preferred yoga, aerobics classes, and swimming to keep that sexy body toned to perfection, which he thought it was. However, Grace insisted she was too curvy. Instead of arguing with her, he’d kissed, licked, and nibbled every curve of her body last night to prove it to her. It’d been one of the best foreplay sessions he’d ever had, and by the time he’d entered her, they’d been so primed and ready, she’d exploded within minutes, taking him with her.
Checking his watch, he upped his pace as another vehicle passed him. Easter Sunday, earlier in the week, drifted back to him. It was the first time any of the Malone brothers had brought a significant other to the holiday celebration—KC and Moriah had met only a few weeks after the holiday last year. It had been his Aunt Annie’s favorite holiday, next to Christmas, and in her memory, they’d always made a big deal about it. When the brothers were little, and their parents had still been alive, the adults had made a plastic, Easter egg hunt on the beach with loose change and the occasional dollar bill in them. Even when they’d gotten too old for the hunt, the big dinners had continued. Now with KC and Moriah expecting, everyone was looking forward to starting the egg hunts for the next generation to enjoy.
An image of what his and Grace’s children would look like scampering around the beach was interrupted by the sound of a revving engine. Some idiot was racing up the street behind him—in a thirty MPH zone, to boot. Glancing over his shoulder, he was about to wave at the driver to slow the fuck down, when he saw the gray sedan was headed straight for him.
Without time to avoid the collision, Sean jumped and dove up on the hood of the vehicle before it could knock his legs out from under him. The impact stole his breath, and pain shot through the right side of his body. He managed to tuck his head in, avoiding smashing it against the windshield as the speed of the vehicle sent him flying back off. He landed on the asphalt with a thud that sounded like a sonic boom to his ears and rolled several times before coming to an agony-filled stop. A screech of tires caught his attention and he turned his head in time to see the sedan slow down and take a sharp right onto the next street. It was too far away and traveling too fast for him to note anything other than the color and the fact that it was a four-door Toyota Camry. His vision was blurred from the impact and pain, so he hadn’t been able to see the license plate or anything else which could be used to identify it.
“Oh my God! Are you okay?” a woman yelled, her voice getting louder as she ran toward him. “Helen, call 911! Sir, where are you hurt?”
A middle-aged woman stood over him and Sean tried to focus on her face, but darkness overtook him and he fell into a blank abyss.
* * *
Bonnie held her niece’s hand as they waited for Sean to return from getting a CT scan. His dislocated left shoulder had been popped back into place, and a variety of X-rays were taken. The ER doctor didn’t think Sean had anything worse than a mild concussion, but because he’d passed out momentarily before the deputies and medics had arrived, it was better to play it safe. The only other injuries were the bruises along his left side and some road rash on his arms and legs.
Deputy Montgomery had immediately recognized the federal agent upon arrival at the scene and notified Sheriff Griffin and Brian, who in turn had called his uncle. Dan had closed up the hardware store, then hurried over to get Bonnie and Grace out of their yoga class. After they’d gotten an update at the hospital, Dan had called the oldest Malone brother and filled KC in. Thankfully, it looked like Sean was going to be released as long as the CT scan was normal. He’d be sore as hell, but it could have been so much worse.
Grace had never been so scared in her life than when Dan had broken the news to them. Not even bothering to change out of their workout clothes, she and Bonnie had grabbed their bags from the locker room and followed Dan to the hospital. Although he was banged up and in pain, Sean was alive and that’s all that mattered to her. It had taken almost an hour for her heart rate to return to normal, and the shivers of fear to dissipate. All she wanted to do now was take him home and nurse him back to health.
Griffin disconnected the cell phone call he’d been on and strode over to where Grace was waiting with Dan and Brian. “That was Brad and Rafe. There were only two witnesses—the woman who called 911 and the one who gave first aid. They had been out for a walk and had just turned the corner onto that street seconds before Sean was hit. One of them is a volunteer wit
h the local ambulance corps so she knew what to do. They only confirmed what Sean told me earlier—it was a newer, gray Toyota Camry, four-door, with unknown North Carolina plates. They think it was a lone, male driver but couldn’t be positive. One thing they were sure of, though, is that the driver sped up and drove straight at Sean. It was intentional.”
Running a frustrated hand through his hair, Brian cursed. “Shit. It had to be our killer. But how the hell did he know where Sean was? I freaking told him to let me do the press conference!”
Dan laid a hand on his nephew’s forearm. “Easy, son. There’s no point in being a Monday-morning-quarterback. What’s done is done. Thankfully, Sean will be okay.”
“We’ve got an APB out on any gray Camrys with front end damage,” Griffin informed them. “We’ll also get it out on the news. Obviously, this wasn’t how we wanted it to go down, but it’s possible the sick bastard’s finally made a mistake.”
The door leading from the waiting room to the ER opened, and the nurse who’d been treating Sean since his arrival by ambulance motioned to them. “He’s back from the CT scan. As soon as we get the results, Doctor Romansky will release him as long as it’s normal. You can come back and stay with him until then. He’s asking for you all.”
They found him sitting up on the hospital gurney wearing the fashion-less blue and white gown the nurses had put on him. The paramedics had needed to cut away his torn shirt at the scene to check for injuries. His jogging shorts were short enough to work around so he’d still been wearing them upon arrival at the ER.
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