[Brandon Fisher FBI 05.0] Violated

by Carolyn Arnold

  “How did you do it?” she asked, looking over at him.

  He glanced at her briefly. “Do what?”

  “Get Grafton to let me go.”

  “There are too many similarities between Hall’s murder and that of a man named Kyle Malone.”

  “But I thought you said a man killed the other victim.”

  “The DNA left behind confirms that much, but everything else seems too coincidental. Malone’s mouth was duct-taped, so was Hall’s. Then you have the mutilation, which was slightly different.”

  “How’s that?”

  “Malone’s penis was shoved up his anus.”

  Paige’s stomach churned, and she saw the disgust on her face when she turned from Jack back to the mirror. Her makeup was still smudged, but it was a little neater than it had been before. She finger-brushed her hair, and as she did, she caught the image of the necklace around her neck—Natasha’s necklace.

  “Yes, this is quite the case you’ve got us involved in,” Jack said.

  “What about the Rohypnol? Was a dose left behind on Malone’s abdomen, as well?”

  “Yes, and since it’s still locked up in evidence, they will be analyzing its chemical makeup to see if it matches the one left with Hall. It could be a stretch, though, as there are six years between the murders.”

  “Six years?” She shifted her body to face Jack. “So what was the killer doing all that time? Has Nadia found any other similar cases?”

  “None.”

  “So the unsub wasn’t able to kill for some reason,” she began. “That, or his victims weren’t found.”

  “Both are possibilities.”

  “Where did you say Malone’s body was discovered?”

  “I didn’t.” A tiny smile tugged at Jack’s lips. “But at his apartment.”

  “So missing victims doesn’t fit.”

  Jack looked over at her. “What are you thinking?”

  “Well, there’s Malone, who was killed in his apartment, and Ferris, who was killed at a motel. The killer clearly wasn’t worried about the discovery of the bodies. And the way the unsub poses them, they are making a statement.”

  “Zach and Brandon just visited a friend of Malone’s, and apparently Malone had assaulted a number of people when he was alive.”

  Her heart was thumping. Maybe that was the positive side of this whole mess: she’d stumbled across a sicko who needed to be stopped. “Maybe we’re looking at someone who was raped by these men or who was defending someone they love from these men. It could also just be a vigilante seeking retaliation on rapists in general.”

  “We need a little more information at this point to make a conclusion,” Jack said, “but both are valid hypotheses.”

  “All right, so if we have a similar MO in two murder cases, why are we still catering to Grafton?” She jacked a thumb behind them toward the detective who was following them in a police sedan.

  “Because he’s not going away. He’s far too persistent for my liking. At least when he’s got his sights on one of my own.”

  Jack’s comment made her insides soft and warm. He wasn’t going to hold all this against her? She was very lucky to have him on her side.

  “Until we have all the forensics back on Hall’s murder scene,” Jack continued, “we need to dance.”

  “To dance.” Paige smiled at his terminology. “Yes, and we know how much you love cooperating with local law enforcement.”

  He just shrugged. “Sometimes, I have no choice. And if we want to stop this killer, we can’t have Grafton interfering all the time.”

  “True.”

  Jack pulled into the hotel parking lot and slipped the vehicle into a spot. He was out of the car first, but Paige wasn’t far behind him. She deeply breathed in the fresh air, letting it fill her lungs, and then exhaled slowly.

  Grafton parked a few spots away from them, cut his engine, and met up with them behind his sedan. He looked at Paige, the hunter still obviously alive within the detective. Jack was right, the man wasn’t going to let her go easily.

  Inside the Hyatt, the clerk directed them to a conference room where a television was mounted on the wall at the end of a long, sleek table. A pitcher of water was in the middle of the table with six glasses set upside down around it. A remote was next to the grouping.

  Paige went right for the water. She hadn’t realized how parched she was until now. She’d been given a meager food portion and water in jail, but not anywhere near the amount she’d needed.

  She swallowed the cold liquid in eager gulps. It somehow tasted sweeter on the outside, too.

  “Special Agent Harper?” A woman in a fitted skirt suit came into the conference room, her long fingers tapping those of her other hand. She more or less sashayed toward Jack.

  How she determined that Harper was Jack and not Grafton wasn’t difficult to figure out based on wardrobe, for one, and on the fact that Jack had a presence about him that told people he was in charge.

  The woman held out one of those delicate hands toward Jack for a handshake. “And who are these people?” She regarded Grafton with a quick eye, but was more critical when her gaze came to rest on Paige.

  Self-consciously, Paige fluffed her hair with a hand. It didn’t really matter what this woman thought of her, but Paige would have been more comfortable if she’d had time to shower and change before this meeting.

  “This is Special Agent Dawson.” Jack gestured toward Paige.

  The woman bobbed her head in acknowledgment.

  “And that’s Detective—”

  “Detective Grafton with Santa Clarita Sheriff’s Department.” His cheeks were flushed red, and his gaze seemed fixed on the woman.

  “Nice to meet all of you. I’m Leah Hunt, manager of this fine hotel.” She stepped toward the table and lifted the pitcher. “Would any of you like some water?” Her gaze went to Paige’s hands and the near-empty glass. “A refill, perhaps?”

  Paige smiled at her. “Sure.” She extended her glass and, after Leah filled it, thanked her.

  “Uh-huh,” Leah said as she poured herself a drink and took a seat in one of the leather chairs along the side of the table. She crossed her legs in one swift motion, which told Paige it was her preferred way to sit. She wore three-inch heels. Paige hoped for the woman’s sake a management position here kept her mostly confined to an office. At least Paige wouldn’t want to put much foot traffic in with those. “Now you wanted to see video footage from two nights ago, correct? Monday between ten thirty and ten forty?”

  “That’s right,” Jack replied.

  “I have it ready for you.” Leah picked up the remote and turned on the television.

  Jack and Paige took seats next to each other, opposite Leah. Grafton sat beside her.

  The video played out onscreen with a time stamp in the bottom corner. They watched strangers arriving and departing, they watched moments of very little activity, and it was in one of those that Paige entered the lobby from outside.

  “Pause it, please,” Jack said to Leah.

  Jack turned to Grafton, pointing to the time stamp on the television. “That right there proves Paige Dawson was back to the Hyatt at ten forty-two.”

  Grafton’s pulse tapped in his cheeks, and he pulled down on his shirt. “Could you excuse us, ma’am?” he asked the manager.

  With a quick glance to Jack, she got up and said, “Certainly.”

  Once she closed the door behind her, Grafton shot to his feet. “This is not proof that your girl is innocent.” He talked as if addressing Jack, but his eyes were on Paige. “All this proves is that she came back here at that time.”

  “We can continue watching if you’d like, and you’ll see I never left again until this morning,” Paige said.

  “You could h
ave slipped out the back door.”

  “The employees’ entrance? You get access to the tracking device on the rental and you’ll know I didn’t.”

  “You could have taken public transportation.”

  Paige’s adrenaline had her skin almost pulsating. She shot to her feet and leaned across the table, pointing a finger in Grafton’s face. “You are full of shit!”

  “And you…” Grafton turned to Jack. “You are protecting a killer. You’re just blind to it.”

  “You have nothing on her or we wouldn’t be here right now.” Jack’s voice was calm, helping Paige cool down. She dropped her arm but didn’t return to her chair.

  Jack stood now and came within a foot of Grafton. “You have nothing.”

  Paige sensed the detective’s rage and frustration from the other side of the table. His cheeks were now a brilliant red.

  “I’m going to get the warrant for the tracking device on the rental car.”

  “As you keep threatening. But until then, the FBI will be taking over this case.”

  Paige was certain her mouth gaped open. Sure, there were similarities between Malone’s murder and Ferris’s, but what about the differences? Wasn’t he acting prematurely? But she couldn’t find her voice. She knew she didn’t kill Ferris, and Jack and her teammates were the best chance to find out who did.

  Grafton crossed his arms. “And working it with—” He nudged his head in her direction.

  “She’s part of the team.”

  “She’s a murder suspect.”

  “We need access to Ferris’s house,” Jack said.

  “And what do you expect to find? The only evidence there pointed to her, too.”

  Jack slid a glance her way. “She’s explained why she was inside. The fact that she was isn’t some secret. Now are you going to let us stop a killer? Or do you want another death on your hands? And before you answer that question, we spoke to someone at the Budget Motel. The woman seen with Hall had dark hair. You can plainly see that Paige is a redhead.”

  “It was late. It could have just as easily—” Grafton stopped talking, presumably realizing it wasn’t in his best interest to continue.

  “You see my issue, then,” Jack said. “No cameras captured Paige at the motel, and the employee who worked there didn’t get a clear view.”

  Grafton remained silent.

  “The rest of my team will be coming with us to Hall’s house now.”

  -

  Chapter 22

  I STILL HADN’T SEEN PAIGE, and it was killing me. I don’t know why I was getting so worked up about it, but I was definitely eager to lay my eyes on her. Jack had requested that we head straight to Hall’s, and Grafton was to meet us there. Paige would be coming with Jack a bit after us, as Paige had insisted on taking a shower and changing after her night in jail. I couldn’t blame her.

  Zach was driving, I rode shotgun, and Sam was in the backseat like before. He was fidgeting with his hands a lot and looking from his window to the windshield. He reminded me of a puppy who had to pee. You’d think Paige were going to be waiting at the house for us instead of catching up with us a bit later.

  “You excited to see her?” I asked him, extending the olive branch, but not exactly sure why I was bothering to.

  “Sure.” He sounded casual, almost disinterested.

  I glanced at Zach, and the look he gave me told me to leave it alone. But that wasn’t going to happen.

  “She’s free,” I said. “She’s going to meet us at Hall’s. This is good news.”

  Sam pulled his attention from looking out his window and met my gaze. “Super.”

  I sighed. “What is your problem?”

  “I’ve told you before, I don’t have one. I’m just reserving my excitement for now.”

  “Right, you’re reserved.” Maybe his body language wasn’t telling me he was eager to see her but rather that he was apprehensive. Was I that messed up when it came to Paige that I couldn’t separate my own feelings for her from what I saw in others?

  Zach parked on the street in front of what must’ve been Hall’s house. It was just a modest townhouse in family suburbia but surrounded by police tape.

  There was already a vehicle in Hall’s driveway, and I assumed it must belong to Detective Grafton. I hadn’t had the “pleasure” of meeting him yet. A day of firsts, it seemed.

  The three of us got to the door and didn’t even need to knock. A man with graying hair opened it. His expression was as sour as his breath, which reeked of stale coffee and possibly an onion bagel.

  “Come in.” He stepped back, not even bothering with an introduction, and I knew this must have been the right guy.

  Zach entered the house first, Sam behind him.

  Grafton put a hand to Sam’s shoulder, stopping him midstep. “What are you doing here?”

  Sam shrugged the man off and resumed walking without responding.

  His gaze skeptically trailed over me. “And who are you?”

  “Special Agent Fisher.” I didn’t extend a hand. I didn’t require that he confirm his name. With all I’d already heard about the detective on Paige’s case, the hardheaded attitude coming from the man fit his reputation.

  “Holy crap,” I heard Sam say.

  I stepped past the detective and quickly understood Sam’s reaction. Inside the house, it was clear that Paige had done a great job tearing apart the place. It looked like the aftermath of a hurricane or the execution of an intrusive search warrant. I was surprised the stuffing was still inside the sofa pillows.

  “As you can see, your girlfriend went to town.” Grafton closed the door and stood next to Sam.

  Zach started to walk farther into the house, and Grafton held out his arm. “Don’t touch anything.”

  Zach spun around and looked at the detective. That’s all he needed to do. No words. His eyes said it all. We were with the FBI, and we were taking over the case. We were free to touch whatever we wished. Of course, it would be while wearing gloves.

  The three of us dispersed throughout the house. I think Grafton remained at the front door. That came as a surprise, actually, because I half expected him to take turns following each of us around. I wondered where his little buddy was—the other detective that Paige had mentioned, Mendez.

  I headed toward the living room at the back of the house and took note of the sliding patio door off to the left behind a dining table. That’s where it had all started…or at least where this week had started and where everything had gone downhill for Paige.

  The front door opened, and my legs took me there before I even gave it conscious thought. Paige was stepping inside, Jack following her.

  Her eyes met mine instantly, and our gazes locked. Her mouth twitched as if she was debating whether she should smile or not. The legs that had swept me to the door now grounded me to the floor. She was prettier than I’d remembered. Crazy, I know. And why did my mind even go there? We were friends and colleagues, nothing more.

  “Hey, Brandon.” Her voice was soft, bordering on sultry. Of course, I probably wanted to hear it that way. She didn’t warrant any double takes from Grafton or Jack.

  “Hey.” I was like a bumbling teenage boy, and I couldn’t keep my hands still. I was rubbing my thighs, then my ribs. I forced myself to stop and put on a smile, which I could only imagine came across as a tad insane. “How are you?”

  Paige’s eyes darted to Grafton, back to me. “Super.”

  Forget professional decorum. I hugged her tightly. She fell into the embrace, and it felt so good to have her chest pressed against mine. I inhaled her familiar scent of honeysuckle, feminine and sweet. It would have been all too easy to lose myself in this moment and overlook the fact that we had company, that we had ended things, that—

  “Paige?”
<
br />   —that Sam was now her boyfriend.

  The sound of his voice had me backing away from Paige. “Great to have you back,” I said to her.

  “Thanks, Brandon.” She looked past me to Sam, and there was hesitancy on her facial features, a mix of excitement and apprehension. “Sam? What are you doing here?”

  “What am I— Hmm.” He rubbed his jaw. “Can we talk outside for a minute?”

  Paige glimpsed at me briefly, then at Jack.

  “That’s fine,” Jack said.

  Paige nodded to Sam, and the two of them went outside.

  To some degree, I wished I could have followed. But that was ridiculous. I had to let her go.

  HER HEART WAS BEATING FAST. First, the hug from Brandon… What the hell was that? It must have just been her imagination—and her heart—longing again for what wasn’t there and for what she couldn’t have. Second, having Sam catch her in the embrace with Brandon. He was the last person who needed to see that. He knew about her history with Brandon, and she didn’t need him thinking there was more to the hug than there was.

  Sam put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her to him. He stepped back quickly and tapped a kiss to her lips.

  She smiled softly at him.

  “Some vacation,” he said.

  “I know how to have a good time.” She laughed, probably more because of the awkward tension that filled the air between them than because of her response. “I didn’t want to get you pulled into all this. I’m sorry about ruining everything.”

  “Things happen.” Sadness, disappointment, and even a touch of anger were embedded in his voice.

  She nodded her head toward the house. “What you saw just now—”

  Sam held up a hand and shrugged his shoulders. “You’re just coworkers. He was happy to see you.”

  “That’s right.” She pressed her lips together. She wanted to tell him why she didn’t call him, but now wasn’t the time. The rest of the team was in the house, and they needed her to run them through the condition she’d found it in. “I should probably get back inside.”