by Kris Norris
“Honestly, I don’t know. But I wouldn’t suggest leaving her alone…not even for a moment.”
“Just don’t ask me to follow her into the ladies’ room. I like my balls attached to my body if it’s all the same to you.”
Sawyer smiled in spite of himself. “She’s lucky to have a friend like you. You know that, right? Hell, we both are.”
“Thanks.” Cole gave him a cautious nod. “We don’t have to hug or anything now, do we?”
“Not if you’re as attached to your balls as much as you say you are.” He released a slow breath. “None of this makes sense. All the other victims were young women. And why kill someone who’s destined to spend the rest of their life behind bars? I get he’s making a statement, but… Shit. I don’t have a clue what he’s trying to tell us.”
“Maybe the message isn’t for us.”
Sawyer turned to Cole just as Mallory walked out of the cell. He gave Cole a nod then met her halfway, not sure what to expect. She looked up at him all glassy-eyed and lost and his instincts took over. He opened his arms and pulled her tight to his chest, muffling her gasp of surprise. She remained stiff for a moment before melting against him, a rough sob breaking free. He closed his eyes, using one hand to stroke her hair as the other held her firm. He didn’t care about appearances or protocol. All he cared about was soothing the hurt, even if only for a few minutes.
Mallory took a few shuddering breaths, staying encased in his arms for a couple of minutes before finally pushing against him. Her eyes were still brimming with unshed tears when she eased away, crossing her arms around her chest as they broke contact. He gave her a tilt of his head, silently telling her he didn’t give a shit who was watching, but she shook her head, offering him a small smile as she released a heavy sigh.
She looked over at Cole. “Did you call Fisher?”
“He should be here any minute.” Cole clenched his jaw. “He’ll need to know if you…”
Mallory nodded as his voice trailed off. “I didn’t touch anything. I just needed…”
Cole stepped forward. “Mallory.”
She held up a hand. “It’s okay. We weren’t exactly close.”
“Close or not, I know you loved her, if for nothing else than for saving you that night. This isn’t Don or the Bureau psychologist. It’s us. You don’t have to put up some façade because you’re afraid we’ll think you’re weak.”
Her eyes widened slightly, releasing a few of the tears. Sawyer had to fist his hands at his side to keep from pulling her close again as the shiny drops chased each other down her skin, falling like broken glass to the floor.
She swung her gaze to him, but it only made her look more defeated. “Maybe I just don’t have any more tears to cry for her, at least not the kind you’re thinking of.” She glanced back into the cell. “But regardless of what she’d become—what we’d become—she didn’t deserve this. Not this.” She looked at Cole. “I want this guy. I want…”
Sawyer stared at her, waiting for her to finish her thought when she drew a deep breath.
She glanced down the hallway then back at them. “The photos.”
Sawyer arched one brow. “What about the photos?”
“He’s taken them at every crime scene. Do you honestly think he’d go to all this trouble? Put my mother on display and not somehow catch my reaction?”
Sawyer inhaled. “Son of a bitch.”
He took off, yelling for them to stay put as he headed for the nearest security station. He flashed his badge at the man standing in the glass room, yanking open the door when the guy pressed the release button. Sawyer stormed inside, searching the monitors until he found the hallway he needed.
He turned around, pointing at the screen. “I need all the video for that camera for the past several hours.”
The man glanced at the monitor then back at Sawyer. “I don’t understand. Your partner already collected the video tapes about five minutes ago.”
“Partner? What partner?”
The guard shuffled restlessly on his feet. “Tall, dark hair. He had all the proper identification. I believe his name was Special Agent Davies.”
Anger heated his face as he glanced back at the monitor. Mallory leaned against the wall, flanked by Cole, her gaze drifting from the floor to inside the open cell. Though the image wasn’t zoomed in, he didn’t need a close-up to recognise the pain in her expression.
He swore under his breath and removed a photo, holding it up to the guard. “Is this Agent Davies?”
The man crowded the image, tilting his head before nodding. “That’s the guy. Like I said. He had the proper identification. Said he was part of the murder investigation.” The man motioned to the adjoining hallway. “He went that way.”
“How long would it take him to clear the grounds?”
The guard’s eyes darted to the side as the man appeared to consider the question. “If he hurried, he’d be clear by now. He could use the service entrance.”
Sawyer slammed his hand on the console, embracing the jolt of pain that skirted up his arm. “Have them check, anyway. And if he is still here, I want his ass, understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
The guard picked up a phone and relayed the message as Sawyer trudged out and down the hallway. Cole met him at the edge of the cell, his face stern. Sawyer gave the man a shake of his head as he moved over to Mallory’s side. He brushed a hand along her arm, silently cursing when she trembled beneath his touch.
She graced him with a sympathetic half-smile before turning and resting her back on the wall. “Let me guess. The tape’s gone.”
“Apparently my partner grabbed it several minutes ago.”
She chuckled, though it seemed more like a release of tension than anything else. “Carter?”
He grimaced. “The guard said the guy matched Davies’ description.”
She rounded on him. “Matched his description? Don’t bullshit me, Sawyer. Did you show the guy a picture or not?”
He sighed, thankful when Cole joined them. “He gave a positive ID to Davies’ picture.”
“Fuck! How the hell is this guy still alive? Am I honestly supposed to believe Carter switched the vials or gave him just enough to knock him out—that the doctor was in on it and that after several hours in the morgue, Carter wheeled him out and Davies walked away as if nothing had happened? God, this is like some bad horror movie, only it’s not.”
“I don’t know. Maybe it isn’t Davies, but just someone who looks like him. Hell, Mal, maybe that evil twin scenario isn’t so far-fetched. At this point, I’d believe just about anything.”
She met his gaze. “Evil twin? You’re seriously falling back to an evil twin?”
He shrugged. “It’s possible.”
She twisted slightly, staring down the hallway before leaning against the wall again and meeting his stare. “Sorry. This isn’t your fault.”
“It’s not yours, either.”
She snorted, but didn’t answer.
He took her hand. “Whoever this is—whether it really is Davies or Carter or some creep off the street—this is their doing. And nothing short of Biblical intervention could have changed what happened here today. I know that doesn’t make you feel any better but, shit, darling. Please don’t let this bastard beat you.”
She gave his hand a squeeze. “Can we go now?”
He glanced at Cole then back to her. “Of course.”
Cole waved at them. “I’ll wait for Fisher. I’m sure he’ll give me a lift back. You two should head home. I’ll meet up with you later.”
Sawyer paused. “You sure?”
“Absolutely. I want to make sure everything is taken care of properly.”
Sawyer smiled his thanks. “We’ll expect you at the house later.”
Mallory waved off his suggestion. “Make it the pub. I need a drink.” She whirled on Sawyer, shaking her finger at him. “And don’t even think about lecturing me.”
Sawyer shook his head
. “I’ll buy the first five rounds.”
Cole tsked them. “Just don’t get so drunk you can’t drive home. I’ve seen what happens in the front of that Jeep. I don’t want to be anywhere near that seat.”
Sawyer smiled ever so slightly. Count on Cole to try and lighten the mood. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He palmed the small of Mallory’s back as they headed out, giving the cell one last glance. Another victim and another stab at Mallory’s sanity. He could only hope this one didn’t bleed.
* * * *
Sawyer sat at the bar, silently watching as Mallory thumbed a glass of whisky, her attention seemingly focused on the deep brown liquid as it swirled around the edges, reflecting splashes of white from the overhead lights. She looked barren. Defeated. He hadn’t left her side in hours, waiting for her to break down, but he suspected what she’d told Cole earlier had been the truth. She’d been mourning her mother for twenty years, and she just didn’t have anything left to grieve over. Sure, she’d shed a few tears, but he could only guess that the pain had long ago faded into numbness, and not even death had managed to shake it.
He took another pull of his beer, glancing at the door to see if Cole had arrived yet. Mallory had insisted on stopping at the office and filling out the proper reports. Even Don had told her to go home, but she’d stubbornly stayed until there was nothing more to be done. Then they’d headed to the bar, where he’d expected her to drink herself to oblivion, but she’d only had two drinks, spending the rest of the time staring into the third.
He sighed and reached for her hand. “Why don’t we just head home?”
She stopped swirling the liquor and looked at him. “I thought we were waiting for Cole?”
“The man owns a cell. I can call him and tell him to drive to the house, instead.”
She pursed her lips up and down, as if unsure what to do before expelling a long breath. He pushed off the chair and moved behind her, gently laying his hands on her shoulders. She relaxed against him, allowing him to bear some of her weight.
He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “It wasn’t your fault.”
She exhaled a shaky breath. “I should have been able to save her. It was the least I owed her.”
“There was no way you could have known she’d be the next target.”
“I should have guessed.”
“Why, because she fit the profile?” Sawyer released her and spun her around on the stool. “Mal. This wasn’t something either of us would have ever imagined. Your mother doesn’t even get close to the type of women Davies went after. Even if you had suggested it, I would have shot you down because it was so outside the realm of the possible I never could have seen it coming.” He paused, but decided not to hold back. “To be honest, I thought his next target would be you.”
Her gaze clashed with his. “Me? But I don’t fit the profile, either.”
“You would have a couple of years ago. And I have a strange feeling you were on Davies’ list, but we got lucky and caught him before he was able to do more than stab you.”
“That doesn’t make sense. If he wanted to kill me, why kill my mother?”
“Because she was an easy target. And because he knew it would hurt you.” He raised his hand and cupped her jaw, tracing a line back with his finger. “Maybe this is payback for you besting him. For his failure. Or maybe he’s just plain batshit crazy. I wish I had the answers, but I don’t. All I know is that it’ll be a cold fucking day in hell before he lays a finger on you.”
Mallory’s eyes softened and she reached up, drawing him down for a soul-searing kiss. He opened willingly as her tongue swept into his mouth, tangling with his. She swallowed his moan as he slid a hand behind her back, pulling her flush to his chest. Tiny buds poked at him, the hard peaks begging for his attention. He nipped at her neck when she released him, whispering his intentions when a raspy breath sounded behind him.
“You know, if you’re trying to keep your relationship a secret, you’re doing a lousy job.”
Sawyer sighed and glanced over his shoulder, glaring at Cole as the man stood a few feet away, his one good arm crossed on his chest. Rain dotted his coat and it looked as if he’d been standing outside for a while.
Sawyer resisted the curse poised on his tongue and eased back, giving the room a quick scan. Several other agents were scattered around the bar and more than a few sets of eyes were focused their way. He thought about releasing his hold on Mallory, but decided against it.
He slid his fingers around her side, taking her hand in his. “I think we’re past the secrecy part.”
Cole chuckled. “Good, ’cause I think Fisher snapped a few shots before he left with Daniel…said something about winning the pool.” He scraped back the stool beside Mallory, sinking into it with a weary breath. “Is it too late to join you for that drink?”
Mallory shook her head. “We were just about to make a toast.”
“It looked more like you were just about to find a vacant wall, but whatever.”
Mallory hit him in his good arm as she signalled for the bartender. The man brought over Cole’s usual beer and moved on, helping another customer. Cole twisted off the cap then turned to look at them, the bottle gripped in his hand.
Mallory took a deep breath then held up her glass. “To Pamela Reeves and the night she saved my life.”
Cole glanced at him over Mallory’s shoulder as he raised his beer and took a long drink. Though he didn’t say anything, Sawyer could see the concern in the man’s eyes. He knew she’d wanted to say more—to add in the part where she hadn’t reciprocated the favour—but the slump in her shoulders said it all. He tried to think of something comforting to say, when Mallory placed her glass on the counter.
She looked over at Cole. “So, are you going to tell us what Fisher had to say, or do we wait until Davies calls again to tell me personally?”
Cole set his beer down, giving Sawyer a hardened glance before swearing under his breath. “Now’s not really the time, Mal. Take a break.”
“Why, because that asshole’s going to? He killed my mother to make a point. I’d like to make sure I don’t miss what that point is.”
“There wasn’t much new, other than the picture of you on the sash.”
She tilted her head. “And?”
Cole shrugged. “And what?”
“And what else? Don’t shit me, Cole. You can’t tell me Davies altered his entire MO just to put a picture of me on the damn sash. This goes much deeper than that. And if we want to finally catch the bastard, it might be best if we figure out his next step before it bites us in the ass.”
Cole sighed and took another swig, downing half of what was left. “It’s not what he left behind that’s odd, it’s what he omitted. For starters, there was no evidence of rape, though he probably wouldn’t have had the time. There weren’t any ligature marks on her ankles, either. We’ll have to wait for the coroner to give a positive cause of death, but Fisher’s pretty certain she bled out from the stab wound…wounds. There were several of them, actually. Most of them on her back.”
Mallory glanced back at Sawyer, her brow furrowed. “Back? Since when the hell does Davies kill his victims by stabbing them? And why the back? He always struck from the front based on the evidence and Davies’ testimony.” She pounded one fist on the counter. “None of this makes sense.”
“There’s one other thing.” Cole looked them both in the eyes. “There was a trace of foundation on the sash. Not enough for DNA, but it’s the first time. I suppose there’s a chance it belonged to your mother, but she wasn’t wearing any makeup when they found her.”
“She rarely wore it. I suppose it stemmed from not wanting any additional attention from my father. But I don’t see her dolling herself up in prison.” She looked away for a moment. “Wait. How many times was she stabbed?”
Cole snorted. “Sorry, Mal, I didn’t count. I just heard Fisher mention it as something unusual, especially
since the guard identified Davies at the scene. He thought it was odd the guy would alter his approach so much. To be honest, this one was a bit hard to swallow.”
Mallory patted his hand. “Thanks. For staying.”
“I figured it was the least I could do for you.” He motioned to the bartender. “Want another?”
She shrugged.
Sawyer palmed her shoulder. “Maybe it’s best if we head home. We can go over the details there if you want. Just do me a favour and hang with Cole while I use the men’s room.”
“I don’t need a babysitter.”
Cole huffed. “Good, ’cause I’m not wiping your ass if you have an accident.”
Mallory sighed. “Fine. Go do your business. Cole’s already offered to buy me another drink.”
Sawyer ran a finger down her jaw as he gave her a smile. “I’ll be right back.”
Mallory watched Sawyer head for the hallway. She’d never seen him this protective before, not that she was really complaining. His concern was touching, and after everything that had happened, she could use a shoulder to lean on. Hell, she could use an entire body. She looked back at the counter as the bartender filled her glass. The scent of the rich brown whisky billowed around her, but it only made her stomach retch. She didn’t want the alcohol. She wanted Sawyer. Wanted him holding her in their bed. Wanted him telling her it would all be all right, even if it was a lie. She closed her eyes, wondering when she’d turned so soft, when Cole’s chuckle drew her attention.
She turned to him, drawing her brows together. “What the hell are you laughing about?”
He smiled. “You. Damn, Mal, you’re so in love with him, you can’t even see straight.”
“I can’t see straight because of the whisky.”
“I’ve seen you down half a bottle and still kick some creep’s ass. You’ve barely touched the stuff. Face it. This is all Sawyer.”
“And if it is? Is that a problem?”
“Not as long as you two do it right this time.”
Mallory resisted the smile tugging at her lips. “I didn’t realise there was a wrong way to do it.”