Federal Agent Under Fire

by Julie Anne Lindsey

  “Thirty miles? Where were you?” Marissa asked.

  Kara delivered a mug of coffee each to both Blake and her sister. “Blue Ridge Byway.”

  Marissa gasped. “What were you doing way out there?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. My only sister was attacked yesterday then taken into protective custody. I was a little upset. I wanted to think, but you said it wasn’t safe here, so I figured I’d better choose someplace outside of town to hike. I planned to meet you at Mom and Dad’s for dinner but when I got back into town this afternoon, my gas light was on, and I had to stop to fill up.” She groaned. “Of course my money was in the coozie I wrap my water bottle in, and that was nowhere to be found, so I had to go back to the park and retrace my steps until I found it. When I got back to my car the second time it wouldn’t start. I had to walk all the way back to town. It was getting dark. My phone was dead. It was awful.”

  “You could’ve called from the gas station,” Marissa said.

  Kara shot Blake a look. “Like I didn’t think of that all by myself? I did. I called Mom and she didn’t answer. I couldn’t remember your new federal agent cell number and your old phone isn’t on.”

  Blake joined Marissa on the couch, prepared to stop her from saying something she might regret. He blew casual ripples over the surface of his coffee and changed the subject. “And where’s your car now?”

  “In the main lot at Blue Ridge Byway.”

  Marissa dropped her head back against the couch cushion. “What were you even doing there? I tell you I was nearly abducted by a serial killer while hiking alone, and what do you do? Get up the next day and go hiking alone!”

  Kara’s jaw went slack. “You said fugitive. Not serial killer, and I was trying to clear my head but you had me scared half to death, and everything was fine until I had to walk home.” She made the same exasperated expression as Marissa. “Luckily, your friend’s dad offered me a ride home for the last few miles.”

  Marissa froze, mug halfway to her mouth. “You got in a car with a stranger? Who?”

  Blake fought the urge to remind Marissa that she’d done the same thing.

  “I think he said you went to school with his daughter. Tammy something. He recognized me right away, thought I was you at first, actually.”

  Blake slid to the edge of the cushion and traded stares with West. “What’d Tammy’s dad look like? What was he driving?”

  “I don’t know. He had a white truck. What’s wrong now?” She looked to Marissa, stupefied. “I figured I was safer in a car than walking by myself straight through a town with a fugitive on the loose.”

  “Nash Barclay is a serial killer,” Marissa growled, “and I didn’t go to school with anyone named Tammy.”

  A powerful rumble of thunder seemed to underscore the revelation. Lightning flashed outside, illuminating the dark world for one long beat.

  Blake and West were on their feet.

  “How long ago did this man bring you home?” Blake asked.

  Kara looked at the clock above her fireplace. “Not long. Maybe an hour? I barely had time to put cookies in the oven and jump in the shower before you guys started showing up.” She rubbed her forehead and chewed her lip. “I came home. Started the coffee and cookies, packed my bag for Mom and Dad’s then jumped into the shower. I planned to call you for a ride to pick up my car, and use the cookies as a bribe.”

  Marissa grabbed the remote and turned the television on, then flipped to the evening news. Nash’s face was anchored in the corner of the frame. A line of scrolling text detailed his past kills and recent attacks, followed by a warning that he should not be approached.

  Kara watched, stunned. “That’s the man who drove me home.”

  Blake tapped the revelation into his phone, informing his team of the development as West informed his. “Nash must’ve dropped her off and driven the mile over to Marissa’s place from here. He probably had something in mind when he removed her porch light, but we showed up and offered him something more appealing.” His chosen victim seated alone in a truck.

  Kara made a gurgling sound, but didn’t speak. She took the remote from Marissa and pumped up the volume on her television.

  West dropped his mug in the sink and stuffed his phone back into his pocket. “Cole says it’s a damn torrential downpour out there, and he’s calling it a night on the river search. They can’t track their own paths in this.” He waved a hand toward Kara’s picture window. “He’s heading out to meet a tow truck at Blue Ridge Byway and collect Kara’s car. I’ll take her to her folks’ house for the night and station a deputy there to relieve Dad.” He grabbed her bag off the counter and hiked it over one shoulder. “I doubt Dad will leave, but I’ll try. Is this everything you need, Kara?”

  She stumbled back, dragging her eyes from a news clip time line of Nash’s kills. She turned for her kitchen on shaky legs. “Let me grab the cookies.”

  Marissa heaved herself off the couch and met her sister at the island. “I’m sorry.” She wrapped Kara in her arms and hooked her chin on her shoulder. “So. So. Sorry. And so glad you’re okay. I should have led with that. I took this all out on you, and I was wrong. You couldn’t have known.” She hugged her sister tight.

  Kara shook visibly in Marissa’s embrace.

  Blake ground his teeth and headed back outside to patrol the perimeter while the women said goodbye. If Nash was brave enough to have followed them here, it would be the last place he ever visited.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Marissa adjusted the vents in Blake’s dash to dry her rain-soaked hair. Her heart was lighter, knowing Kara was safe, but having her back meant having her to lose, and she suspected that fear would never truly leave.

  Rain pelted the windshield as they followed West’s cruiser toward the stop sign at the end of the street. West turned right, taking Kara to their parents’ home for safekeeping, and Blake idled his truck.

  He glanced at Marissa before pressing the left turn signal. “She’s going to be okay.”

  “How do you know?” Marissa watched as the cruiser’s taillights faded into the night. The fear of never seeing Kara again knotted in her muscles. “How can you be sure Nash won’t show up at my parents’ house and hurt them?”

  Blake made the turn, pointing them soundly away from Kara. “For one thing, I know he’s hurt. For another, we both know he likes to abduct and overpower women when they’re alone. Kara’s not going to be alone again until he’s caught. She has no reason to sneak away in a storm, and she’ll be safe inside. He’s not a home invader, and if he gets the notion to try, he’ll find three armed men inside.”

  Marissa appreciated the logical explanation and the way Blake always took the time to fill her in instead of blowing off her concerns. He trusted her to handle the truth. As he should.

  Wind whipped the trees along the road’s edge, bending boughs fifty feet high. The storm had been in full force when they’d left Kara’s house. Even the short run down her drive had been enough to soak them. Now, not only was she freezing, she was worried. The search for Nash had been called off due to weather.

  She twisted a loose thread from her jacket cuff around her trembling fingers. There were too many questions and her eyelids were growing heavier by the second. Her adrenaline was long gone, and whatever was in her IV was starting to wear off.

  “Hey.” Blake stole a long look in her direction. “Why’d you quit fighting back there?”

  “When?”

  “Nash had you, and you were making headway toward freedom, but when we got to you, you froze. Was it the guns? None of us would have taken a shot with you there like that. Your safety is always number one.”

  She rolled her eyes in the dark cab. “I wanted you to shoot him. I was trying not to get in the way.”

  The truck slowed for several seconds before powering onward at the posted speed limit
. Whatever Blake thought about her reasoning, he didn’t say.

  She forced her tired eyes open, and ran mentally through a growing list of concerns. Where was Nash now? How injured was he? Would he survive? Would he come for her again? For her sister? Someone else? Images of the women pulled from the lake came flashing back to mind, curling her fingers and knotting her empty stomach. He had to be stopped, but how? What could she do? Nothing. Nash proved that time and again. She was helpless, and he could reach her anywhere, even in her driveway with three armed men standing on her lawn.

  Blake pulled into the parking space outside their hotel room and turned off the lights. How had they gotten there so fast? An agent exited the door to their room, just like before. This time, the man in the suit headed for Blake with a large umbrella overhead.

  Marissa waited, too exhausted to get out, wishing she could just sleep where she was.

  Blake took the umbrella and sent the agent away. He arrived at Marissa’s door a moment later and reached for her hand.

  “You know we’re both already soaked, right?” She smiled and planted her hand in his.

  He pulled her against him under the large black dome and shut the door behind them.

  She shook her head, pushing away the bizarre fantasy that the small gesture meant something more than good manners. Cole’s words to his uncle blared in her memory like a humiliating foghorn.

  She’d attached herself to him. The connection she imagined wasn’t real.

  Marissa headed for the bathroom once they were safely inside. She pulled a dry towel off the rack and pressed it against the length of her hair, then patted her face.

  Blake leaned against the doorjamb between her room and the sitting area, watching her through the open bathroom door.

  She rubbed the towel against the gooseflesh rising on her arms. “I’ll only be a minute.”

  “Take your time.”

  She closed the door and hurried through the process of washing Nash’s touch from her skin. It was pointless work. Each time the washcloth passed over a part of her that had touched him, her stomach knotted, and the sound of his voice burned in her ear. His breath was on her cheek. The scent of cigarettes seemed to float on the steam around her.

  A bone-jarring sob broke from her, and she turned the shower off with a snap. She dried and redressed quickly, barely removing the water from her hair and skin. She wrapped half-dry hair into a messy bun and let her clothing stick to still-damp skin. She just needed to see Blake was there, and she wasn’t alone.

  She reopened the door to find Blake in the same location, poised between rooms. His gaze kept a steady circuit from the front door to the bedroom and back.

  “You’re up,” she said, tossing her duffel and wet things into the closet.

  He tapped his phone screen, then gave her one stiff nod.

  He disappeared into the bathroom, and Marissa exhaled long and slow. She hadn’t been alone since her morning jog at the national park, but the suite felt safer somehow than the small bathroom had. She was less vulnerable. There was room to run. Lamps to throw. She circled the rooms checking the window and door locks. All secure. As she expected. Two agents stood outside the front window with giant umbrellas. “Well, that explains his last-minute text,” she muttered, simultaneously thankful and concerned by the added protection.

  Steam puffed beneath the bathroom door and scents of Blake’s shampoo filtered into her troubled mind. She turned for the front room in search of the minifridge and a cold bottle of water. Anything to help clear her thoughts.

  She climbed onto the small sofa with her drink and folded her legs beneath her. She dialed her mother’s number and waited impatiently for an answer.

  “Hello? Marissa?”

  “Hey.” She swiped a renegade tear from her cheek. “Did Kara get there okay?”

  “Yes.”

  The joy and relief in her voice raised a smile on Marissa’s lips. “Good.” She nodded against the receiver. “And there’s a deputy there now? Someone should be staying with you tonight.”

  “That’s right.” Her mother sniffled. “We have a full house. Mr. Garrett is staying and so is his youngest son and another deputy.”

  “Cole’s staying?” Marissa asked.

  “Mm-hmm.” The background voices grew louder. “The sheriff dropped her off and waited for the deputies to arrive, then he had to go. I’m serving coffee now. I wish you were here.”

  “Me, too,” Marissa admitted. It would be great to crawl into her childhood bed and sleep soundly knowing her parents were right down the hall, and that they were all the protection she needed. Maybe she could do that again one day, but this wasn’t the night. Tonight, the whole family needed a team of guardians because one psychopath liked killing people who looked like the Lane women.

  “Are you okay? Is there anything I can do?”

  Marissa scanned the impersonal room before her, full of files, frequented by strangers and void of any personal touch. “No. I’m fine. I was just checking on you and Kara. I’m going to get some sleep.”

  Her mother sighed. “The last two days have been horrific for me. I can’t imagine what they’ve been for you.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You always are.” Her voice was soft like a hug. “Tomorrow will be a better day. You and your sister are safe now, and that’s all that matters. The whole sheriff’s department can move into the guest room permanently for all I care, so long as I know my girls are okay.”

  The bathroom door opened, and Blake emerged in a black t-shirt and jogging pants. His hair was damp, and his skin red from the hot shower.

  Marissa gripped the phone a little tighter. “Tell Dad and Kara I love them. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

  “You’d better. I love you, sweetie.”

  “I love you too.” Marissa disconnected and set the phone aside, letting her mother’s comforting words warm her bones.

  Blake pulled an extra blanket from the closet and carried it to the couch. “May I?”

  “Sure.”

  He fanned the blanket over her legs and took a seat beside her. “Checking in on your family?”

  “Yeah. They’re fine. Your dad, Cole and another deputy are all staying there tonight.”

  “Good. I don’t think they need the coverage, but their presence should help your family sleep. They’ve all had a bad day.” He bent to retrieve a fat stack of files, then balanced them on his lap.

  Apparently, he had more work to do.

  Marissa pulled the blanket up to her chin. “Why’d Nash drive Kara home tonight? Why didn’t he take her or hurt her while he had the chance?”

  Blake turned his heavily burdened gaze on her. “Nash doesn’t want her. This isn’t random for him. He’s specific. Focused. Exact. He wanted to send us a message. He wants us to know he’s done his research. He’s watched you. He knows what’s important to you, and he wants you to know he’s in control. He may have even let you get away from him at the national park because that was the surest way to get me involved.”

  Marissa’s jaw dropped. “You think he let me go?” She pressed her fingers to the pulse suddenly beating in her temple. “I fought like hell to get away from him.”

  Blake lifted a palm slightly off the folder. “It’s just a theory.”

  She frowned. The storm rumbled outside the window, rattling the glass and whistling around the door. Sheets of rain streaked over the large pane of glass beside her as if they were slowly being submerged. “Anything else you want to share?”

  Blake eased the top folder in her direction and flipped the cover open. “Yes.”

  * * *

  HE SLID THE open folder onto her lap and watched as she began to read.

  Time moved more slowly as she pored over the pages, catching his eye from time to time when the messy scrawl on sticky notes became too muc
h to decipher. She tapped her finger to the letters BF scribbled in a margin note.

  Blake cleared his throat and began to explain the context. “It was to remind me to find his birth father.” Nashville Levi Barclay was the child of a single, teenage mother. No father was named on his birth certificate. “I’ve always wondered about his true paternity. One-night stand? Rape? Incest?”

  Marissa’s mouth turned down on both sides. “Do you really think it could be one of the latter?”

  “I never found out. I know he was raised in poverty by his grandparents who weren’t real thrilled by the burden. I had the significant displeasure of meeting with them after he got away from me the first time. They described him as an ungrateful child, and they believed in corporal punishment. His mother was absent. I got a good idea of why while I was there.”

  Marissa leaned back against the couch cushions. “His life sounds terrible. No child should grow up feeling unloved or unwanted.”

  Blake twisted to face her. He’d decided in the shower that he’d tell her as much as he could. She deserved to know what he knew. “Nash had a relatively productive life for a while. He finished high school. Got a job and met a girl. They were engaged to be married, but she died of a drug overdose before the wedding. She left a vague suicide note. That was six years ago, and what I see as his breaking point.”

  She stared at the pages. “He was going to have a family. He had someone who wanted him, but not enough to keep living.”

  “I’d thought that Nash’s first victim went missing a year after his fiancée’s death.” Blake stopped to rub the back of his neck and groan. “That’s another thing I was wrong about. One of the bodies from the lake was a year older than that.”