by Kris Norris
“Shit gets out, Cole. You know that as well as I do. Someone could have shared that bit of information without us being any the wiser. Besides, the other victims didn’t have a knife wound below their ribs.”
Cole’s gaze clashed with hers, his expression sending icy chills down her spine.
He motioned towards her. “You mean the same kind of wound you have? In exactly the same place? No, they didn’t. But that just confirms our hunch. The bastard added that to mess with you…end of story.”
Malloy sighed, palming her hands on her hips. “Okay. Let’s say for one minute this isn’t a copycat. Care to tell me how in the hell John Davies murdered this woman when he was fucking killed just hours ago by lethal injection?” She threw up her hands as she stalked around the body, shaking her head. “What the hell, man? How did he pull it off? He’s been on death row for the last eighteen months. Let me guess…wormhole?”
Cole pushed to his feet as she stopped in front of him. “Damn it, Mal. I’m as angry and shocked as you, but you can’t look at this woman and tell me her death isn’t the work of that fucking psychopath.” He held up a hand when she scoffed at him. “I don’t have a goddamn clue how he pulled it off, but I’m certain of one thing. Nothing good is going to come from this investigation.”
Mallory stared at the dead woman, Cole’s words echoing in her head. She could deny it as much as she wanted, but he was right. Somehow John Davies had claimed another victim.
* * * *
Mallory reached for a mug, pouring herself another cup of coffee. The office was just starting to come to life, with agents ambling in. The grey light of a late sunrise chased away the shadows, taking some of her tension with it. Though it was hardly rational, something about the sun made everything seem just a bit less horrific, as if the light held some kind of magic. Whatever it was, she welcomed the brief reprieve that had haunted her every waking moment since Fisher had revealed the body the previous night.
Footsteps sounded behind her and she turned as Director Don Henderson walked through the staffroom doorway, his shoes squeaking slightly on the polished floor. She gave him a smile as she leaned against the counter, knowing he wasn’t here to simply grab some coffee or breakfast.
“Mallory.”
“Sir.”
He chuckled at the formality. Though she knew he preferred to be on a first-name basis with his agents, this didn’t feel like the kind of conversation where she’d feel comfortable calling him Don.
He nodded at the mug in her hands. “Late night, or early morning?”
“More of a late night that turned into an early morning.” She added some sugar, stirring it as she watched him over her shoulder. “Cole and I came back to go over some old files after Fisher’s surprise last night.”
“You two are stubborn like that. I think it’s one of the reasons you work so well together.” He poured himself a cup. “Come to any conclusions?”
“Just one. John Davies was a sick bastard who enjoyed killing and raping young women.”
“I think we’d already established that. And seeing as Davies is dead…”
She nodded, leaning against the counter again. “I know. None of it makes sense. Cole’s convinced this isn’t a copycat, but unless Davies somehow got out of his cell, there’s no way on earth he killed that woman. We’ve been searching the old records, trying to see if we overlooked anything—like the possibility of an accomplice—but haven’t been able to find any trace that would suggest we missed a previous connection.” She kicked her toe against the floor. “We’ll have a better idea once the lab gets back to us. They think they might have gotten some DNA from the body. We’ll compare it along with better images of the marks left by the rope and close-ups of the sash. If this is Davies’ work, that’ll confirm it.”
“And if it points towards Davies, then what?”
“Well, it’s a bit late to question the man, unless you’ve got better connections than I thought.”
Henderson smiled, but it quickly faded. “Something tells me you wouldn’t have been the first one in line to question him, anyway.”
Their gazes clashed. She’d known that he’d eventually bring up the execution last night. “Probably not.”
“Which brings me to the reason I came in here. I got a call from Captain Trevor Watts on the way here. You remember Trevor, don’t you? The cooperative Chief of Homicide who provided invaluable assistance during our investigation. He went on about how the only two agents who had bothered to witness Davies’ execution ditched the proceedings just as they were strapping the man to the gurney. Care to explain?”
She held his gaze, wondering if he’d already talked to Cole or Fisher. “The simple explanation is that Fisher called and said it was urgent. Since there were other officers present, I thought my time was better spent dealing with live criminals.”
“Davies wasn’t dead yet. What if the Governor had called and stayed his execution?”
“I considered that. But since it had about as much chance of happening as say, Cole getting a date, I figured the odds were in my favour.”
A hint of a smile touched Don’s lips. “Cole seems to think you couldn’t stand staying there. That being so close to Davies got to you.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Did he say that?”
Henderson scoffed. “Hell no. That man wouldn’t give you up if you’d pulled your gun and tried to shoot the bastard through the glass. Let’s just say I deduced it from everything he didn’t say.”
Mallory looked down at the floor. Why did it always come back to that night? “I think it’s fair to say Davies’ presence made me feel uneasy.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of traumatised, but I’ll go with your description for now.” He moved closer, checking the doorway before focusing on her face. “You know, Mallory, just because you put this in the books a while back, doesn’t mean you aren’t still dealing with it. If you need more time—”
“I’m fine, sir, as shown by the fact I passed the psych eval almost two years ago.”
“No one thinks you’re crazy, but…let’s just say John Davies cost you more than just a few weeks on the job.” He straightened, taking a swig of coffee. “Cole told me Sawyer neglected to show up.”
Mallory clenched her jaw. This was definitely not going in a direction she wanted. “Sawyer’s two thousand miles away. Maybe there was traffic.”
Don shook his head, the murmur of a chuckle drifting across the short space between them. “Right. Either way, he should have come…for more than one reason.” He took another sip, looking at the coffee as if he’d never tasted it before. “Damn. I don’t know how you drink this stuff.”
“Iron gut.” She took a deep breath. “If you’d like me to call the precinct and explain about last night, I’ll—”
“No need. I already explained the situation.” He dumped the rest of his coffee down the small sink behind her and headed for the door. “But if I lose to Watts on the golf course next week, you will be bringing me real coffee for a week.”
Henderson gave her a smile and left just as Cole walked into the room. He gave the director a nod, raising his eyebrow at her as he headed for the sink.
“Henderson giving you shit for skipping out on the execution?”
“More like asking me if he needed to send me to the psych ward for a few days.” She levelled a stare at him. “Somehow he got the impression I was creeped out by Davies last night.”
“Weren’t you?”
“Yeah. But he doesn’t need to know that.”
Cole held up his hands. “Don’t look at me. I didn’t say shit about that.”
“Henderson said as much. But apparently you’re not quite the blank read you think you are.” She sighed, watching a bubble float around the edge of her mug. “Forget it. Let’s just deal with the case. Any news from the lab?”
“Other than confirming the woman’s identity to be that of one Susan Bach, age twenty, nothing. Basically, they nicely told
me to fuck off and leave them alone to do their job. Said they’ll call us when they’ve got anything remotely useful.”
“Fantastic. Well, looks like it’s back to doing things the old-fashioned way.”
“I smell a road trip.”
Mallory shook her head. “I wouldn’t call canvassing the neighbourhood a road trip, but…” She held up her keys. “I’ll drive.”
“You drove last night. It’s my turn.”
“Doesn’t your truck still have that check engine light on?”
Cole snorted as he headed for his desk, snagging his coat off the back of his chair. “Since when are you one to shy away from a dangerous situation? Nice deflection, but I’m driving.”
“Have it your way. But that means you’re buying coffee.”
“Just don’t spill any on the leather seats, okay?”
Mallory swatted him on the shoulder as she walked by, knowing it was probably the last easy moment they’d have until Seattle’s latest killer was caught.
Chapter Two
Mallory palmed her head, trying to rub away the growing headache. After hours of scouting the area and a few more talking with the victim’s family, they hadn’t been able to confidently add a single person to their list of possible assailants. And seeing as their prime suspect was sitting in the morgue, there was little to go on.
“It’s four o’clock. Why don’t you just call it a day and head home? I’ll call you when forensics has any news.”
Cole’s voice ghosted over her and she looked up, smiling at the warm brown eyes that met her gaze. He was a large man, well over six feet, with bulging muscles and black hair. His mocha-coloured skin accentuated high cheekbones and perfect long lashes she’d wished for on more than one occasion. But it was always his eyes that intrigued her, deep brown and brimming with intelligence and compassion. He was, without a doubt, her best friend.
She leant back in her chair, accepting the handful of pills he gave her. She reached for her water bottle, downing them in one gulp. “You’ve been here the same amount of time and I don’t see you grabbing your keys.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, but we both know I’m tougher than you so…” He chuckled as he dodged the wadded-up paper she threw at his head.
“Jackass.”
“Ah, but you say it so nicely.”
She pushed to her feet, ready to launch her water bottle at him when Director Henderson walked over to her desk.
She gave Cole a sideways look then turned towards Don. “Something on your mind?”
“I need a few minutes of your time.” He waved in the direction of his office.
Cole tapped him on the shoulder. “Just her, or do I get to come along, too?”
Don shook his head. “Mallory’s right. You’re a jackass.”
“But I’m your star jackass…sir.”
Mallory rolled her eyes. “Just one question, Don. Should I bring a notepad or a lawyer?”
He grimaced. “Just come on in.”
She looked over at Cole, but the man simply shrugged and followed the director into the room. She sighed and pushed her chair back, hoping her legs didn’t wobble as she moved down the aisle, slipping past the door Don held open for her. She headed for his desk, taking a spot beside Cole as the man shouldered against the far wall, gazing out the window towards the park across the street.
Don angled the door on a forty-five then walked over to his desk. He didn’t ask them to sit, just eased into his chair, grabbing a mug as he leant back. “Quite a mess we’ve got on our hands with this new…development.”
Mallory scanned the room then settled on his face. “Quite honestly, sir, it’s a bit early to panic. All we know for sure is that a woman’s dead and it has similarities to another string of crimes.”
Don chuckled. “Similarities? Damn, Mallory, are you sure you don’t want to go into politics or something? ’Cause you sure do talk the talk.”
“It’s not just talk. Though I know my partner has doubts, it just doesn’t seem possible that John Davies was in any way connected to this murder. And I stand behind our original findings.” She moved closer, palming her hands on his desk. “That son of a bitch was as evil as they get. Not only did he rape and kill those girls, he enjoyed doing it. Every piece of evidence we found linked him to those murders, not to mention the fact we caught him bent over the last victim’s body!” She pushed away, resisting the urge to draw her fingers down her scar. “The bastard confessed for Christ’s sake, not to mention refusing every attempt at an appeal. So regardless of this recent development, his sentence was justified, no matter how you look at it.”
Don sighed and shifted forward in his chair. “Easy, Mallory. I didn’t bring the two of you in here to question your competence. In fact, it’s quite the opposite.” He cleared his throat, taking a swig of coffee before meeting her stare. “As you can imagine, Washington has quite a vested interest in how we proceed with this investigation. With Davies’ body still warm in the morgue, they’re hoping that we’ll do everything in our power to keep the details of this case, shall we say, private. As such, they’ve decided to appoint a small, three-man team to head this undertaking—”
“So just like that, we’re off the case?” Cole stepped forward, his massive body taking up most of the space on Mallory’s side of the desk. “What kind of bullshit is that? High profile or not, nobody knows Davies’ MO like us. Hell, it’ll take a new team weeks just to go through his old file—”
“Cole. If I may finish.”
Cole grumbled something under his breath but nodded, finally taking a seat in one of the chairs.
Don ran a hand through his hair, giving Mallory an exasperated look. “As I was saying. Headquarters in DC has picked a team, and they’d like the two of you to be part of it. As you mentioned, Cole, no one knows Davies like the agents who worked the original case. I have a feeling that knowledge will be indispensable in this matter. So effective immediately, you’re to forego any other cases and ensure all your resources go to putting whoever did this in jail.” Don looked them both in the eye. “Any questions?”
“Just one.” Mallory leant forward, resting one hip on the edge of his desk. “Why did you bring us in here to tell us? Seems you could have just mentioned it in passing at our desks?”
The man fidgeted at his desk, shuffling papers as he mumbled beneath his breath. He finally raised his gaze to her, an apologetic smile gracing his lips. “As happy as you are to be part of the team, there’s a small aspect that might cause some friction.”
Mallory furrowed her brow, not sure where the director was heading, when Cole cursed and slapped one hand on his leg. She turned to him, eyebrow raised in question.
He gave her a knowing look. “The third guy.”
She glanced from Don back to Cole. “Third guy? What are you talking about?”
Cole motioned towards Don. “Don said Headquarters was putting together a three-man team. And if they want agents who worked on the original case, then…”
“Ah, shit.” She glared at Don. “They requisitioned Carter, didn’t they? Damn, he’s a whiny, arrogant jerk. I personally celebrated the day he transferred.” She sank into the other chair and ran a shaky hand through her hair. She’d hoped she’d never have to work with the man again, but…
“Mallory.”
She looked up as Don’s voice broke through her thoughts. She met his gaze, not sure if he was amused or agitated. “Yes, sir.”
“Carter isn’t part of the team. He quit and went private a year ago, shortly after leaving here. And you’re right, the man’s an ass.”
Mallory sighed then felt her breath hitch in her chest. There’d only been a few agents involved with the Davies case, and if they hadn’t picked Carter… She forced herself to swallow as she stared at the director. “So who’s going to be the source of my…displeasure?”
“That would be me.”
She froze, the familiar deep voice starting a chain reaction in her body. The quick breath sh
e’d been taking stalled, lodging tight in her chest as the hairs along her arms prickled to life, following a cascade of goose bumps across her skin. A rolling motion rumbled through her stomach, fluttering back and forth as a warm feeling took root in her groin. Her nipples hardened against the confines of her bra as a searing heat crept up her neck and into her cheeks. And despite everything she’d told herself for the past two years, a sense of relief washed over her.
She heard Cole curse again as his chair scraped back and he rose to his feet, nudging her in the shoulder. But she couldn’t move—still couldn’t breathe—and she knew if she tried to stand now, she’d make a fool of herself and fall flat on her face.
A heavy sigh covered the short distance, sending an unwanted pang of desire pulsing through her. Damn, the man could still make her tremble with nothing more than a word or a sound. There was just something about his voice, dark and gravelly, that short-circuited her brain and put all her resources into preparing her body for a loving that would never come.
Old feelings resurfaced, and she pushed to her feet, clenching her jaw as she turned, instantly pinned by his blue eyes and sexy half-smile. She ignored the sudden pounding of her heart, praying he couldn’t see the way her pulse thrashed beneath her skin. Two years, and he hadn’t changed, other than looking better than ever. His hair was slightly longer, teasing his eyes as he pushed a hand through it, tousling it about his head. His shoulders blocked out most of the door behind him, making the room seem smaller than when she’d first entered, and his jeans still hugged his lower body like they’d been painted on his skin.
Don moved out from behind his desk, walking over to doorway. He extended his hand. “It’s been a while, Sawyer. Good to see you.”
Sawyer glanced at her again, his gaze travelling the length of her body, before darting back to the director as he shook the man’s hand. “I’m not sure good is the word I would have picked, but thanks, it’s nice to see some familiar faces.”
Don turned towards her, his mouth pulled tight. “I realise this situation may be a bit uncomfortable at first but…there’s not much any of us can do about it. The orders came directly from Washington, and they weren’t in the mood to discuss any changes.” He looked at Sawyer. “If I were you, I’d tread very lightly. The lady’s been practicing a bunch of that mixed martial arts bullshit, and quite frankly, she’s damn good at it. That, coupled with a memory befitting an elephant…not a good combination where you may be concerned.” He slapped Sawyer on the shoulder, glancing back at her. “Mallory—play nice. And if you have to shoot him, make sure you use Cole’s weapon. You’re much easier on the eyes than he is.” Don chuckled at Cole’s muttered rebuke and stepped through the doorway, pausing halfway. “Just for argument’s sake, there isn’t anything I should know about the two of you that didn’t come to light after the stabbing, is there?”