[Brandon Fisher FBI 05.0] Violated

by Carolyn Arnold

  “They likely have a penis,” Paige finished my sentence and continued on with the topic she’d started. “I can only imagine how lost they would feel, especially if the parents withheld the fact they were born intersex. They’d have gone through life wondering why they were different. If they found out—and I believe we can assume our unsub did—it would be devastating. They’d feel betrayed.”

  “It might have been enough to prompt him or her to kill.” I wasn’t even sure what gender to use when referring to our unsub. “That’s without being raped or contracting HIV.”

  “We’ll consider our killer female from now on,” Jack said, seemingly reading my mind. “Nadia, what else do you have?”

  “In Malone’s case, HIV wasn’t present in the urine, but in Hall’s it was,” Nadia answered.

  “It can take up to three months for HIV to show in blood tests,” Zach began, “but it can show in as little as two weeks. Seeing as there were six years between the murders… Well, that’s plenty of time.”

  “Obviously she was already ill when she exacted revenge on Malone,” I concluded based on the fact that epithelial cells were in the urine at his crime scene. “Was Hall drugged?”

  “He wasn’t,” Nadia responded.

  Hall might have been a rapist, but for some reason I felt a little empathy for him right then.

  “Hall wasn’t HIV-positive,” Nadia continued, “and nothing useful came back from his car.”

  “Have you found any similar cases?” Jack asked.

  “Nothing. And that’s taking the DNA and running it through all the databases. However, the chemical makeup of the Rohypnol at Malone’s crime scene is a match to the pill left at Hall’s.”

  “She held onto those for a long time,” Paige muttered.

  Thoughts were swirling in my mind, coming close but swooping out of my grasp. When we’d spoken to Bart Kelman from Synergies, he had said that Malone had moved to California from Minnesota when he was twenty-one. Why did he come all the way out here? It couldn’t have been to work at a call center.

  “Nadia, how are you making out on those calls to Synergies?” I asked.

  “The warrant was issued and I have the list, but I haven’t had a chance to get to them yet.”

  “All right, I’m just wondering why Malone came to California in the first place. If there is a caller who had been trying to track him down, why was that the case? Was Malone in California just because his parents didn’t approve of his lifestyle, or did he just need a change, or was he running away or hiding from someone?”

  “Are you thinking that maybe he raped someone and fled to California?” Paige asked.

  I nodded. That was exactly what I was thinking, but I still wasn’t sure how Hall fit in.

  “Once I get to look at what I received from Synergies, I’ll pull callers’ backgrounds and see if any of them tie back to Duluth, Minnesota,” Nadia said.

  “It could be a shot in the dark,” Jack opined.

  I figured it best not to point out that his suspicion that Hall was the victim of someone who had killed before was initially more of a gut feeling. But if Jack’s intuition turned out to be right, it might prove that shots in the dark do sometimes pay off.

  “Jack, do you want me to conduct the search?” Nadia asked.

  Jack spoke with his eyes on me. “Before you do that, how are you making out with tracking down the recipient of the money transfer from Hall’s account?”

  “That’s still in progress. I’ll let you know once I have anything to share.”

  “The second you have anything, Nadia.”

  “Of course, Jack. So do you want me to dig into the backgrounds of the callers to Synergies?”

  He nodded, even though she couldn’t see it. “Go ahead.”

  With that, Jack ended the call, his gaze landing on me. In fact, Zach’s and Paige’s eyes were on me, as well.

  Maybe I was getting ahead of myself asking Nadia to look into the callers. There was more there, though, if I could just— My jaw dropped slightly. “That’s it!” I took my eyes from Jack, looked to Paige, then turned to Zach. “None of you picked up on it?”

  Paige angled her head. “Brandon, it’s one thing to have an idea, it’s another to rub it—”

  “We tossed around the idea that the unsub was getting even for being given HIV,” I said. “We even mentioned rape being a possibility.”

  “Yeah…?” Paige dragged out the single word.

  “Well, Nadia just confirmed that Malone’s killer didn’t show as HIV-positive. Even though she obviously wasn’t well if she left epithelial cells in her urine,” I added.

  “Speed this up, kid.” Jack was tapping his breast pocket—craving a cigarette no doubt.

  “Okay, so if forensics didn’t see the disease, how would our unsub have known she had it? So she couldn’t have been getting even for being infected.”

  “She was getting even for being raped,” Paige said.

  “And if that was the case and Malone’s murder was for personal retribution, we have to figure out how it was personal with Hall.”

  -

  Chapter 31

  PAIGE STARED AT THE CEILING as she stretched her hand along to the mattress beside her. There was an ache in her heart when her hand met with nothing. The emptiness made it hard to breathe as tears slid down her cheeks.

  She was alone. Again.

  Hours before, she had excused herself when the team had headed for dinner. Even now, she wasn’t hungry. She’d chosen, instead, to wallow in her loneliness, condemning herself for even considering that a long-term relationship was possible for her. After all, she was in her forties and hadn’t yet found the right person. Even though she had loved Brandon, he wasn’t an option. It was pretty obvious that reciprocated love wasn’t going to happen in her lifetime. But maybe that was okay. She’d built a career she was proud of.

  And one she had damaged.

  The thought crashed over her. Jack seemed to be handling all the recent events rather admirably, but he would be well within his rights to add a citation to her file. She had used government resources for personal reasons.

  She rolled over, having lost count of how many times she’d switched sides since she’d lain down.

  The clock on the nightstand read 11:30.

  She kept hearing Sam say, I see the way he looks at you.

  Brandon had no right to look at her in any other way than as a colleague. He had no claim to her. Was it his feelings for her that made him tell Sam that she’d used her one call on him? Sam had said he’d figured it out on his own, but she needed to know if he’d been nudged toward that conclusion.

  She got up and threw on jeans and a T-shirt. She scooped her tousled hair back into a ponytail—something she rarely did, but her curls were out of control. She put on a light coat of foundation, smeared on lipstick, and left her room.

  Brandon was staying in room 510. She took the elevator up the two floors, all the while trying to talk herself out of doing this, but she had to know.

  In front of his door, she held her hand braced to knock, but common sense finally made its case. She turned to leave, but Brandon was coming toward her wearing a pair of workout shorts and a T-shirt, a towel hanging over a shoulder. He must have been returning from the hotel’s gym.

  His brow furrowed as he approached. “Paige? What are you doing here? Are you all right?”

  She wanted to say yes, she’d even settle for nodding, but she couldn’t bring herself to do either. Instead, she shook her head and said, “No. Can we talk?”

  There seemed to be confusion in his eyes almost immediately, maybe even a little panic.

  “It’s about Sam,” she added quickly. She didn’t want Brandon to think this was about him or their former relationship. She wasn’t here
to get back together with him, but she needed some clarification. What exactly had he said to Sam? Had he even said anything?

  Brandon’s gaze traced her face. After what seemed like minutes of silence, he pointed toward his room. “Do you mind waiting while I take a quick shower?”

  “Yeah, sure.” Just his brief mention of a shower had the past washing over her, the times when they had taken showers together, when their two bodies had become one. There was no way she could wait in his room. She didn’t trust herself that much.

  “I’ll meet you in the lobby?” Her voice was small, and she swore it cracked. If Brandon gave her any encouragement at all, she’d join him. Her weakness was despicable, but all she could think about was the temporary surrender to the familiar and easing her broken heart. She had to accept that what she had with Sam—whatever it had been—was over. The hurt and fire in Sam’s eyes, the rage… He wasn’t coming back. And a part of her couldn’t blame him, especially given the flood of emotion she was starting to feel in this moment. How easily she would slip back into Brandon’s bed…or shower.

  He inserted his keycard into the door and turned to her. “I’ll be down in ten minutes.”

  IT TOOK ALL MY POWER not to ask Paige to join me in the shower. No matter how much I wished the memories away, they’d come at the most inconvenient times. It was just the pain in her eyes, the heartbreak screaming off her that made me want to pull her into my arms and soothe her hurt. But I was the least qualified, and I knew it. I had been responsible for so much of her pain already. I had no right to toy with her emotions. There shouldn’t even be a draw or a pull to act on anything.

  Paige and I had gone over it many times. For one, I wasn’t ready for a committed relationship. Even with Becky it was casual, a coupling built on convenience, not love. I hadn’t even thought about her since I got to California. And secondly, if either Paige or I wanted to stay on the BAU team, we had to forfeit any feelings we had for each other.

  Yes, whatever I felt for Paige, I had to refuse acting on it. I’d continue to bury them in denial, between the legs of another woman—whatever it took. Otherwise, the disservice to both myself and Paige would be monumental.

  I tossed my dirty clothes aside and got into the shower. Alone. But in my mind, I still wished that Paige were with me.

  -

  Chapter 32

  PAIGE SAT IN THE LOBBY, watching the few people who were coming and going at this time of night. Her mind was churning with thoughts of two men now. Really, how could speaking to Brandon about another man she cared about have any kind of positive outcome? To make matters worse, Sam had seen what she had failed to: she was still in love with Brandon, even if on some buried level. And she sensed Brandon felt the same way…

  If only feelings could be willed away and dismissed as if they didn’t exist. She had managed to compartmentalize her heart and her body with other men, but for some reason it was different with Brandon.

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them, she realized the bar was still open, but despite her inclination to bury herself in a drink, she’d resist. It would weaken her defenses. And giving into what was familiar wasn’t the answer. Again, that was making the assumption that Brandon would even let her. Not to mention that it would go against the reason she was here, which was figuring out how to right things with Sam.

  She thought back to Tuesday morning, before everything had fallen apart, before she had gone to Ferris’s house. How she and Sam had made love. And no matter how much she wished to discount the act as less, there was no other label that could be assigned. It was more than simply sex with him. She and Sam had connected on a deeper level.

  “Paige?”

  She turned to see Brandon slip into the tub chair to her left and sink into it. In his eyes, she saw hope, but she was probably imagining it there because she wished it to be so. She hated herself for the thought. Would she ever fully move on?

  “Sam left,” she said softly.

  “I think I figured that out. I’m sorry.”

  She met his eyes. “Are you?”

  Irritation licked his eyes briefly.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have said that… Listen, I need to ask you a question.”

  He nodded. “Shoot.”

  With the way he sat there, so nonchalant, she may have only seen what she’d wanted to see earlier. He wasn’t thinking about getting back together. He was keeping his distance.

  “I probably shouldn’t have bothered you, and I wouldn’t have unless—”

  “Go ahead. It’s all right.” He leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees.

  “I care about him, Brandon.” She watched that sink into his eyes, and eventually, he nodded.

  “I figured that, too.”

  “I’ve never been good at love. God, look at me. I’m forty-three. Single. An ex-con.”

  Brandon laughed. “Technically, you’d have to be sentenced and spend time in prison to be an—”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Close enough. But I was always happy being free and unattached. It’s how I wanted things. Then there was you.”

  “We’ve been through—”

  She held up a hand to stop him. “I know, Brandon. What I was going to say is that starting with you, I began thinking about having more than just causal relationships.”

  “And Sam was going to be the guy?”

  Was there a tremble in his voice, or am I imagining that, too?

  She locked eyes with him. “He was.”

  “Why did he leave?”

  A few seconds of silence passed between them. Should she come out with what Sam had accused Brandon and her of, or stick to the phone call?

  In the public space of the lobby, she felt confident in her ability to talk about all of it.

  She took a deep breath and licked her lips. “Sam said that you’re still in love with me.”

  Brandon remained quiet and sat back in the chair again.

  “I know that’s crazy,” she continued. “I mean, you never loved me in the first place.” The latter statement had him breaking eye contact and shifting in his chair. “And we can never be more than friends.”

  “No, we can’t.”

  Why did that fact still hurt after hearing it and saying it so many times?

  “Listen, I know you’ve moved on. And I have tried.” She stopped, panicked by her last words. She needed to rein them back in. “With Sam, I mean. I tried to move on with him. And you and me, well, we’ve exhausted this conversation so many times there’s nothing left to say. I want to discuss Sam.”

  “Okay,” Brandon said, dragging out the word.

  “Did you tell him that you loved me?” The question was out without thought, and it wasn’t even the one she had intended to ask.

  Brandon shook his head. “He told me I did.”

  “Oh? So he just keeps saying you do…” She stopped talking and pondered this. Brandon was one of the more confusing men she’d been involved with. Maybe it was the enigma, the mystery about him, that made her want to investigate him, get the answers, and solve the man. “What happened between you and Sam? Please, Brandon, be honest with me. I know something happened for him to leave.” She couldn’t add me. Simply saying as much as she had was stabbing her in the heart enough.

  “He accused me of still loving you.” His eyes met hers again.

  “And what did you say?”

  “I didn’t say anything, Paige.”

  She briefly closed her eyes. “Was anything else said?”

  Brandon went quiet, and there seemed to be a wall building up around him.

  “Brandon? What happened? Did you tell him that I used my one call on you?”

  He sighed. “It might have come up.”

  “It
might have come up?” She raised her voice. “Why? Why would you do that?”

  The fire was back in Brandon’s eyes. “You’re implying that I did it on purpose to cause trouble between the two of you.”

  “Did you?”

  Brandon’s gaze softened, peering into hers. “Why did you use that phone call on me anyway?”

  She’d thought she had known why—the motivation was clear, the logic sound. At the time. But being faced with the direct question from Brandon left her speechless.

  “Tell me,” he prompted.

  “I called you because I trusted you. There was nothing more to it.”

  “So you don’t trust Sam? Because if you don’t, I’m having a hard time understanding why you’d want to be with him.”

  “You’re talking to me about trust? You cheated on your wife.”

  “With you. And only you. What does this have to—”

  “I don’t want to stir it all up again.”

  “Then why did you?”

  Suddenly, she felt so exposed. “You know me better than anyone. I knew you’d believe I was innocent.”

  “And you didn’t think Sam would?” He shook his head. “Wow, what a winner, Paige.” He widened his eyes and mouthed winner.

  “Stop it, Brandon.”

  “Listen, you wanted to talk, we talked.” Brandon stood. “Now I’m calling it a night.”

  “Brandon, don’t—”

  “Good night, Paige.”

  With that, he was gone, his back to her, his long strides eating up more and more of the lobby as he walked toward the elevators.

  Despite not wanting to dredge through their past, it had been exactly what they’d done. Their history had churned up anyhow, like seaweed in a stormy sea. That was a good analogy for what things were like between her and Brandon. Stormy. Choppy. She should have known that simply being friends wouldn’t work. Too many feelings had been laid bare, raw from exposure and lack of reciprocation, poor timing, and even poorer discretion. But what stuck with Paige with even more strength as she watched Brandon get onto the elevator was something else: did she trust Sam?