by Karen Rock
“My teacher calls it Orion’s belt and dagger.”
“Orion, the hunter.”
“Yes.”
“Good thing he has a dagger and a canoe, then.”
Nash’s lips, lifted into a smile at the fading memory, froze as a thought struck him. Understanding yanked him back to the map. He drew a connecting line between the dump sites, stepped back, and examined the map once more. The points merged into one distinct image. Wonder gave way to elation when a quick internet search on his phone confirmed his hunch. His fingers dialed the wrong number twice before his cell rang Katherine’s.
“Nash?” she asked in lieu of a greeting.
“How quickly can you get to my condo?” he asked.
“Fifteen minutes. Why?”
“I know where Layla is.”
After a brief, stunned silence, she said, “Be right there.” The line went dead.
While he waited, he pushed a second pin into the map for Layla, fired up the coffee maker, and poured two mugs after the pungent stream finished dripping into the carafe. Nervous energy turbocharged his bloodstream. He was amped up and jittery, pacing since he couldn’t sit still. At last, his doorbell rang and he yanked open the door so fast Katherine nearly tumbled inside.
He caught her quickly in his arms, relishing the feel of her lithe body and her enticing lavender scent. He tried to ignore the urge to lean in and kiss her.
He dropped his arms and her blue-violet eyes searched his. “You know where Layla’s body is?” she asked.
He laced his fingers in hers and tugged her to the map. “Look.” He pointed to the linked pins with their corresponding letters.
“This is Layla’s dump site?”
He nodded.
“Why did you write R next to it?”
“Because it’s the only letter missing.”
“I don’t understand…” Her finger traced over the connecting line as she mouthed the letters silently.
“It’s the only star missing in the constellation.”
“Constellation?” She peered closer, then whirled to face him, her wide eyes latching onto his. “It’s Orion.”
“Yes.”
“The hunter.”
“That’s what he sees himself as. You said the letters had to do with the unsub, not the victims. Each star in the constellation has its own name and the letters on the bodies refer to those stars.” He passed her his phone, the screen showing a labeled diagram of the constellation. “Rigel, Betelgeuse, Bellatrix, Mintaka—”
“Alnilam, Alnitak, Saiph, and Meissa,” she read from the graphic. Her quick, unfettered smile stopped his heart. She threw her arms around his neck, gave him a jubilant kiss, then fled a short distance away, cell phone in hand.
“Chief, this is Agent Bowden. We need to organize a search party.”
Nash listened as she relayed rapid-fire instructions calling for a search involving community member volunteers and uniforms in the area he’d pinpointed. When she finished, she lowered her phone and stared out his living room window at the fountain spraying in the center of a small, man-made pond.
She turned to face him. “Thank you, Nash.” Her hair was picking up the rays of the setting sun, going all platinum within the gold as strands of it tumbled over her shoulders. The severe twist she’d worn had fallen, making him want to reach out and touch those silky strands. She was beautiful and he couldn’t rip his eyes away. Gorgeous and off-limits. The next time they made love, and there’d be a next time, she’d initiate it. Would want it just as much as him, and wouldn’t panic afterward.
At least she’d woken in his arms this morning instead of vanishing. He wasn’t giving up on Special Agent Bowden, not when every minute spent together convinced him she was the one he’d been waiting for all his life. “I should thank you.”
“For what?”
“Believing in me. Trusting me.”
“I do,” she said, closing the distance and laying a soft hand against his cheek. “I trust you.”
Those three simple words hit him with gale force.
She believed in him, had even encouraged him to try again at the police department. Did he risk getting his hopes up again—in his professional and personal life?
He wanted to take the leap, but worried he might not survive the fall.
Chapter Twelve
Katherine shaded her eyes against the morning sun and studied the large group of volunteers assembled to search for Layla Pierce. Uniformed officers poured from police vans while canine units prowled the area. With all this manpower, would they find Layla? Her coffee’s surface trembled slightly as she studied the bright-eyed woman in the flyer.
So young. So full of promise.
Whoever hurt you, she vowed, will pay.
“Strong turnout,” she observed when Chief Harris joined her, walkie-talkie in hand. “Your PR department did a great job appealing to the public.”
He nodded his thanks and brought his walkie-talkie to his mouth, issuing instructions to the ground team.
Katherine shifted her weight from one foot to the other, unable to stay still, her nerves practically sparking beneath her skin. If Nash was right, Layla’s body waited for them somewhere in the thick bramble of woods beyond this off-ramp.
“Here’s the man of the hour,” boomed Chief Harris.
Katherine followed his gaze to Nash, who looked otherworldly handsome as he strode their way. His dark hair, still damp from a recent shower, framed his gorgeous face. Faded jeans showcased long, muscular legs, and a fitted blue T-shirt clung in all the right places, stealing her breath.
Had he stolen her heart, too?
It practically threw itself at him.
Shameless hussy.
“Morning, Chief.” Nash flashed a full-wattage, two dimple smile. “Agent Bowden.”
She flushed at the wicked twinkle in his eyes and sipped her scalding drink. His gaze suggested thoughts not nearly as straitlaced as he sounded. And darn her for liking it—way too much—when they had serious work to do today. A gut-wrenching task.
“I hear we have you to thank for today’s grid search?”
Nash’s chin lifted, and he met the chief’s approving stare head-on. “Agent Bowden deserves credit as well.”
She melted a little at his graciousness.
“You two make a good team. I had reservations when I heard Agent Bowden was working with a private investigator, but trusted her instincts. Glad to see she was right.”
Nash’s eyes tangled with Katherine’s for a brief, oxygen-depleting moment. They made a great team, whether it was chasing down criminals, deciphering clues, or other, more wickedly enticing pursuits. She flushed as she envisioned them, and a couple more she’d like to try…
“We haven’t found Layla yet, but I’m confident in my assessment, sir.”
“And you collared Jax Fuller.” She blew on her coffee. “North Carolina’s extraditing him for his assault charges. They’re very grateful.”
The chief nodded, his expression full of respect. “Sounded like a hell of a chase. You’re a good man to have in the foxhole, Mr. Hawkins.”
Yes, he was, a fact Nash had demonstrated more than once.
Did she dare let him closer, trust him with her heart when all he offered was a play-it-by-ear relationship?
“Ever thought about joining the force? We could use a good man like you.”
Nash’s mouth parted in surprise. “I appreciate your vote of confidence, sir.”
“You have it. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” The chief tipped his hat and strode to the K-9 officers.
“The civil service exam is in a couple of days,” Katherine supplied once they were alone. She studied him over the rim of her raised cup before downing a long, fortifying gulp.
“Good to know. Thanks,” he said, noncommittal, h
is expression shuttered. Didn’t he realize how good he was? See himself the way she did?
He wasn’t just a sex god, but a man who embodied all the best qualities in an officer: Compassion, attention to detail, ethical and professional responsibility, humor, creativity, and great communication skills. Qualities that would make him a great partner in life, too.
A whistle blew, breaking her from her thoughts.
“Listen up,” shouted a bullhorn-wielding police sergeant. “We need you to form groups of ten. An officer will lead you through the specific area you’ll be assigned to search. If you haven’t already checked in, please stop by the blue tent to share your name and contact information.”
“What’s he doing here?” Nash pointed to a familiar black-robed figure stalking among the crowd.
The preacher.
“Strange. No wicked souls to minister to here.”
Nash winked at her. “Not so sure about that.”
She blushed and forced herself to turn and listen to the sergeant.
“Go slowly and look at your surroundings,” blared the officer. “Walk along your assigned area side by side, arm’s-length apart, and maintain the same pace as your team. If you come across something suspicious, tag an area near it with a piece of the colored tape you received at check-in and give a shout to your group leader. He’ll blow his whistle three times to alert the rest of us if Layla Pierce has been found.”
“Look,” Nash said in her ear. “The preacher’s talking to a young woman. The one wearing the yellow tank top.”
She followed Nash’s pointing finger and spotted the preacher speaking to an enthralled twenty-something. The blonde nodded along, one of the preacher’s pamphlets clutched in her hand.
Was he lecturing her about being a righteous woman? Warning her to avoid the “mistakes” of sinners who frequented clubs? If so, his one-person audience didn’t seem to take offense. How had he built such quick rapport? Had his white collar earned him automatic trust, cloaking him with a sense that he was safe? No stranger-danger warning signs to stop unsuspecting women from falling prey to one of his morality lectures?
“Take a picture of everything you find and send them to the police,” continued the sergeant. “Be mentally prepared and alert at all times. Beware of the wild plants and animals. Questions?”
In the sudden silence, the preacher’s words rang loud and clear. “For while we were in the flesh, the sinful passions, which were aroused by the Law, were at work in the members of our body to bear fruit for death.”
Several people booed. Others simply looked appalled.
“Romans 7:5. He’s bringing the big guns today.” Katherine peered closely at the minister.
When he spotted her, his eyes widened abruptly and he ducked into the crowd.
Crap.
She still needed to question him. The officers she’d dispatched downtown to locate him had come up empty. Why had he made himself scarce lately? And why show up here, of all places? Her instincts sensed something was very off.
Another whistle blast signaled the search’s start.
Fine. She’d seek him out later.
For now, they joined Deena and her family, who’d come out in force to search for their missing member. A map-wielding officer waved the group down an embankment then up the other side. Boggy ground sucked at her boots as she passed a stream gushing into a culvert pipe. All around, the searchers stepped carefully, some using long sticks or canes to poke through the weed-choked grass.
“Katherine!”
She whirled and spotted Robby galloping toward her. When he reached her, he bent at the waist and gasped, “Thought I’d miss you. My oil change ran late.” He waved to a blue Mustang with white stripes parked on the roadside.
Nash whistled. “Sweet wheels. Is that a 1965 Shelby Cobra?”
Robby gratefully accepted the water bottle Katherine handed him and hurried with them to catch up to the group. “Yes. Are you a collector?”
“Nah.” Nash ducked beneath a branch as they entered the woods, his eyes fixed on the terrain. Instantly, the air grew cooler. Thicker. Gnats whirled in small clouds, breaking apart and reforming as they passed. “My uncle drove one. Called it his chick magnet.”
Robby stopped drinking and glared at Nash. “I don’t use cars to pick up women, and I don’t call them chicks, either. It’s sexist.”
“Looks like the PC police have arrived,” cackled a nosy searcher who seemed intent on clubbing a mulberry bush to death with his cane.
“Robby’s always loved cars; he takes them seriously,” Katherine hurried to explain, keeping her voice low so as not to disturb the other searchers. The hostile way Nash and Robby eyed each other filled her with unease. “Remember when we used to play Matchbox cars?”
A wide smile replaced Robby’s scowl. “How could I forget?” he murmured back. “We played them practically every day. Although you never did let me use your Volkswagen Beach Bomb van.”
She rolled her eyes, remembering their age-old quarrel. “It was pink.”
“So? I was man enough for pink.” Robby shoved his brown curls off his flushed face, scanning the ground as he kept pace.
“We were grade-schoolers.”
“You two go way back,” Nash observed, tramping through the needle-and-sapling-covered ground.
“My earliest memories are of Katherine….”
She smiled at Robby’s sweet remark, careful not to let her attention get too divided as she placed each foot carefully, advancing only when she’d visually cleared the area ahead of her. Light banter helped during stressful, arduous searches, but she couldn’t let it steal too much of her focus. “My parents used to call Robby their adopted son because he practically lived with us. We were like brother and sister.”
“Is Katherine like a sister to you, Robert?” Nash asked, his tone challenging. Was he jealous?
“She’s a friend.”
Robby’s simple statement twisted her heart with a painful wrench. She shouldn’t have lost touch with him after high school. He still considered her a friend.
While she’d been a crappy one, turning him into collateral damage, more fallout from her past. This case brought back painful memories she’d avoided facing for too long. Summer hadn’t been the only victim. Robby had suffered, too, and the unfairness of it firmed her resolve. She had to follow through on the promised lunch date and make it up to him.
“Why’d you come out today?” she asked after they scuttled up a small incline and skidded down the other side.
“Since we haven’t figured out a lunch date, I thought this might be the only way to see you.” His light tone didn’t fool her.
Bad friend. Bad friend, she berated herself.
“Plus, I want to help.” Robby smacked a mosquito flat against his arm, leaving a splat of blood. “Brittany disappeared while I was setting up Dallas Heat’s smart system. If I’d put the outside cameras up sooner…”
“Don’t think like that. I was there, too, and didn’t see anything. And I’m trained to spot sociopaths.”
“Are you free for lunch after the search?” Robby’s foot caught in a root and he yanked it loose. “We could—”
“Today’s pretty crazy. When else are you free?”
“How about after the weekend?”
She forced a “yes” past her tight jaw and Robby’s face exploded in a smile. At Nash’s frown, her shoulders lifted in a slight shrug. Time to stop avoiding Robby and her past. If this case proved anything, she couldn’t outrun or hide from their shared history.
They fell into silence, each deep in thought while searching the brush. As the morning marched on, the temperature warmed, growing unbearable when they emerged into a large clearing below a cloudless sky. A helicopter whirred overhead.
Katherine’s stomach lurched. The beating rotors dragged her back f
ifteen years, to another clearing, another forest, another search for a missing girl. Summer.
She was eighteen years old again, stumbling through dark woods, belting out an Alicia Keys song while swigging cheap beer. Then someone was screaming. Summer. She was bleeding, red gushing from her skull, running through her hair, dripping down her face. She staggered in a circle, clutching her head, then crashing to her knees. She was crying, “Katherine! Katherine! Katherine!”
Behind her, a man stood holding a large object. A rock? He whacked Summer’s head with it again and she toppled over, panting hard like a wounded animal, moaning, “Why? Why?”
Fear rooted Katherine’s shoes to the ground. She struggled to lift them as the man stalked toward her. He was sure-footed, familiar with these woods, with the dark.
“Please,” she sobbed. “Don’t!”
“Sorry, Katherine.” He hoisted the rock and she cowered, curling in on herself, arms raised to protect her head.
He slammed the stone into her skull, cracking it like an egg, and she dropped to the mossy ground, broken.
“Katherine?” Nash’s deep voice yanked her back from a memory she must have pushed down deep, one now bubbling to the surface. He cupped her chin, forcing her to see him…see what was real. “Are you okay?”
“Summer,” she breathed, and Nash’s concerned face swam into view.
“What’s going on?” He gripped her shoulders, steadying her.
“I—I think the heat just got to me,” she insisted, trying and failing to settle her erratic heartbeat.
She would not look weak in front of the search party. And especially not her fellow officers. The helicopters circled back, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from ducking.
“I’m going to grab some water,” Nash said casually, his offhanded tone at odds with his concerned expression. “Want to come with?”
“Sure.” She blew out a relieved breath. Sensitive man. He noticed her discomfort and offered her a dignified way out. After alerting their search party’s leader, she turned to Robby. “Want me to bring you back a bottle?”