by Mary Stone
Noah raised his eyebrows to flash Naomi an incredulous glance. “Wait. They used Natalie’s car? Why?”
Naomi shrugged, her expression nonchalant. Like the perpetrator’s use of a victim’s car to abduct them was an everyday occurrence. Were kidnappings really that common in this city?
The woman’s voice cut through the contemplation. “Personally, agents, I think the Russians used her car because they didn’t want anyone to see a strange car pulling into their garage. They didn’t want to risk someone jotting down a plate number or catching sight of a make and model. They’re good at cleaning up forensic evidence most of the time, so they probably weren’t too worried about that.”
Though he was still puzzled, Noah nodded. “The risk outweighed the reward.”
“Exactly. We didn’t find any prints aside from hers, Jonathan’s, or their friends’, but there was some of her hair found caught in a seatbelt in the back seat. Which is a bit odd all on its own, but in the driver’s seat, we found something even more interesting.”
Winter’s blue eyes glinted with the intensity she so often expressed during an investigation. “What is it?”
Pushing the laptop around for the group to view, Naomi glanced up to Winter. “We’re still processing it right now, but I think I’ve seen it before. It looks like dust at first blush, but based on the shape of the particles, I think they’re tiny flakes of metal. In metalworking jobs or automotive repair, that sort of thing, there are little bits of liquid metal that get propelled through the air. Depending on the velocity, they cool into oval or cylindrical shapes.”
A spark of recognition flickered in the back of Noah’s mind as he squinted at the magnified photo on the laptop. “I’ve heard of that before. There was a case in Dallas years back that found the same thing. They found it on the victim’s clothes, and it’s how they tied them to the killer.”
Naomi straightened her black-rimmed glasses. “It’s a pretty unique marking, especially when you’re able to analyze the chemical composition. It’s just about as good as a fingerprint, honestly.” She looked over to the two Baltimore agents. “You two were at the meeting this morning, so you already knew that. But we had a chance to look over the trace evidence from Agent Hansford’s clothing a little bit ago. We’ll know with more certainty after we’ve had some time to thoroughly process it, but right now, it looks like the same particles were on Drew’s clothes.”
SAC Judd pursed her lips. “Then it’s like we suspected.”
The first chill of excitement flitted down Noah’s back. “They’re connected. Whoever killed Agent Hansford was involved in the Falkner kidnappings.” And whatever heaping pile of shit Eric’s buried himself under. Noah kept the second part to himself.
He couldn’t say he was surprised.
After four years with the Dallas PD, a stint in the military, and his tenure at the bureau, Noah didn’t believe in coincidences. Drew Hansford had delved into Eric’s involvement with the Russians, and he had lost his life as a result.
Noah looked from one agent to the next. “What else do you have on the Falkner kidnappings? If these two cases are connected, then we can’t overlook anything.”
Agent Gibbs nodded his bald head. “The Falkners had a security system, but someone accessed it online and turned it off for about thirty minutes. We had Cyber Crimes pull the login records, but the login that turned off the system was made from a proxy server out of Shenzhen, China. Whoever it was made sure to cover their tracks, or just avoided making them in the first place.”
“We’ve got the 911 call too,” SAC Judd said. “A lot of the audio is fuzzy and difficult to make out, but our tech team is working on it. It might take a day or so, but they said they’re sure they can clear it up enough for it to be useful.”
“How long did it record?” Winter asked.
A shadow passed over the SAC’s face. “Until the officers got there.”
Noah had to fight to keep the shock from his expression.
Agent Hansford had recorded his own death.
By the time he and Winter arrived at their hotel, Noah was ready to either down a bottle of whiskey or sleep for seventeen hours. They had only been in Baltimore for three or four hours, but he felt like at least a week had passed since their flight landed.
So far, the only positive aspect of the entire damn trip was the hotel.
Though he half-expected a shoebox similar to the hotel they’d stayed in during their first investigation together in Harrisonburg, the thirty-story building near the heart of downtown Baltimore was a pleasant surprise.
He caught a whiff of chlorine from the pool on the main floor, and for about a half a second, he entertained the idea of a soak in the hot tub. But as soon as he remembered that other hotel guests would be there too, he dismissed the idea.
If he opted for the bottle of booze instead of sleeping for seventeen hours, he would revisit the thought once he was good and plastered. Because right then, as he and Winter headed to an elevator, being plastered sounded just short of divine. After all his years in the military and law enforcement, he finally understood why so many cops hit the bar at the end of their shift.
As Winter cleared her throat, he pulled himself from the contemplation to offer her a quizzical glance.
Her lips curved into the start of a smile. “This hotel is a little bit nicer than the one we stayed in while we were in Harrisonburg, isn’t it?”
His chuckle sounded more like a cough. Great minds think alike. “A little bit.”
With a light sigh, she leaned against the metal handrail. A flicker of worry passed over her face, but the expression was short-lived. “I can’t believe that was a year ago.”
“Yeah, well. Time flies when you’re having fun,” he muttered.
A cheery ding sounded out overhead as the car came to a stop on the fifteenth floor. With a quiet hiss, the silver doors slid open to reveal a hall that, compared to Harrisonburg, was pristine.
Winter jabbed an elbow at his upper arm as they stepped out of the elevator. “You can’t even smell the carpet. We’re moving up in the world.”
On a normal day, he would have laughed at the sarcastic observation. But today, all he could manage was a strained smile. “I’m not sleeping on the floor this time.”
When she smiled up at him, the look was as wistful as it was reassuring. “But if you did, it’d be a hell of a lot more comfortable. Face it, this is a quality floor.”
For emphasis, she tapped her foot against the patterned carpet.
He wanted to continue the lighthearted banter as they approached their rooms. He wanted to add to her joking comments about the floor, about their stay in Harrisonburg a year ago. But try as he might, he couldn’t summon up so much as a hint of humor.
Before he could consider his approach to the topic, he turned to face her. “You’re hiding something.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement of fact.
For a split-second, her eyes widened, and he had his answer before she even spoke. Opening and closing her mouth, she shook her head.
“What is it, Winter?” He intended the question to be cool and composed, but his voice came out raw, scarcely above a whisper.
Here it came. Here came her regret at their impassioned kiss. Here came her announcement that she’d found someone else. He would have been inclined to think she had changed her tune about Aiden Parrish, but he’d heard her talk excitedly about how she was sure the SSA had taken an interest in Autumn. Plus, based on Autumn’s mode of dress earlier that day, Noah thought there was a great deal of merit to Winter’s theory.
Who was it, then? Bobby Weyrick? Bobby was a six-year veteran of the United States Army, a seasoned federal agent, and an objectively good-looking guy.
When she heaved a sigh, he returned himself firmly to the present. “Is there someone else?” he asked. For the second time in their conversation, the words had rolled from his lips before he paused to consider them. He needed to be more careful. Even if Winter found an
other romantic interest, she was still his friend. He’d rather have her in his life as a friend and coworker than lose her altogether.
Her blue eyes went wide. “What? You mean…no, oh my god, no.”
Relief and anxiety rushed up to greet him in equal parts. “Then what?”
The shadows moved along her throat as she swallowed. “It’s about Justin.”
Noah’s blood froze in his veins. As his pulse rushed in his ears, all he could do was stare at her.
When he didn’t speak, she went on. “About that email. My friend in Cyber Crimes sent me a message when he found out where it’d been sent from. I got that message on the same night that Eric called you. I wanted to tell you, but you…you just seemed so sad and frustrated. I knew that telling you about how that email had come from Harrisonburg would only stress you out more. I know what it’s like to be overwhelmed, and I didn’t want that for you.”
He wished he could wipe the stupefied look from his face. “Wait. Harrisonburg? You got an email from Justin, and it was sent from Harrisonburg? Jesus Christ, Winter! What is this, is this the Kilroy investigation part two? Are you going to be in BAU next week, or are you going to drop off the face of the planet for another three months?”
When her face fell, he immediately regretted the harsh tone. “That’s why I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want you to worry about that, to worry about me leaving or not being there for you. That’s why I went to Autumn instead and asked for her help. She was there with me the whole time, and Aiden offered to keep an eye on the case while I stuck to your father’s case.”
At the mention of Autumn, any remaining bluster was whipped away like a haze of smoke on a windy day. “You went to Autumn? And Aiden?” His voice sounded choked and hoarse. He hated himself for it.
She nodded, but her eyes were fixed on the floor. “I thought they could help me figure it out, and then I wouldn’t have to stress you out with it. I’m sorry.”
After an uneasy silence, he let out a weary sigh. Her logic made sense, and she couldn’t have asked for better help than Autumn. If anyone could talk sense into Winter before she went off the deep end, it would be Dr. Autumn Trent.
But as reassuring as it was to think that she had the help of two people who cared about her, he couldn’t help the nagging sensation in the back of his head. The nagging that insisted they’d returned to the days of the Kilroy case, back when Douglas Kilroy was still known only as The Preacher. Back when he was a faceless apparition, a harbinger of death. Before they’d learned that he was an old man whose grasp on reality had begun to slip from his fingers.
He shook himself out of the reverie. No, he still couldn’t get rid of the paranoia. Back in those dark few months, she had been willing to throw all those who cared about her to the wayside in the interest of chasing after a ghost from her past. Noah hadn’t realized it until now, but ever since he’d shot and killed The Preacher, he had been waiting for her to leave again.
That’s why this stung so fucking bad.
There was no doubt that what she had experienced that night had changed the course of her entire life. And in the back of his mind, he always suspected that she valued the idea of her past—of her vengeance—more than she valued any of the people she had in the present. He hadn’t realized it, but he had fully expected her to disappear into the shadows as soon as the chance to find her brother appeared.
He scrubbed one hand over his face and shook his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like an asshole. But I…I just need to be by myself for the rest of the night, all right?”
It might have been his imagination, but he thought the light caught glassiness in her eyes as she nodded. “I understand.”
The words were hardly a whisper, and the sharp pang of guilt stabbed at him again.
As she made her way to the door beside his, he let himself into the chilly room.
Once the door latched, he let out a long sigh. Even if he tried, he couldn’t be truly upset with Winter for keeping another source of stress from him, especially if she’d enlisted the help of two of her close friends. But the entire situation felt too familiar.
Now, it was a little after seven in the evening, and he had the rest of the damn night to ruminate. He was torn between the desire to find a bar and the need to just shut out the whole world and sleep.
After he’d changed into gym shorts and a band shirt, he sprawled out on the king-sized bed and reached for the remote.
At least they hadn’t been put up in bargain rate rooms this time. Unlike Harrisonburg, this hotel had proper televisions and a whole host of cable channels.
Before he could settle on any show in particular, the buzz of his smartphone snapped his attention to the nightstand. When he spotted the caller’s identity, he straightened in his seat and muted the television. Scooping the phone off the wooden surface, he swiped the answer key and raised the device to his ear.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Hi, honey. How are you?” He could hear the smile in Liv Alvarez’s words. It was the first happy voice he’d heard all damn day.
Rubbing his eyes with one hand, he chuckled. “I’m all right, I guess. Little stressed about this case I’m working, but I’m all right. How about you?”
“I’m good.” He could tell by her suddenly strained tone that there was more to the simple statement.
“But?”
She sighed. “Lucy got back from Santa Monica yesterday, so I went to visit her. She said that Eric showed up out of the blue in Richmond.”
Dammit.
He hadn’t wanted his mom to be forced to deal with Eric’s dramatic bullshit. He’d hoped to keep the situation away from her until it was resolved, and he could just tell her the story someday.
“Yeah,” he finally answered. “He did. It’s…it’s messier than I thought it was at first. I thought it was just him being an entitled dipshit, but now. I’m not so sure anymore.”
“That’s what Lucy said.” To his relief, the strain was gone. “She said she told you to keep your guard up around him, and she said she doesn’t think he’s telling the truth about why he’s there.”
Noah barely suppressed a groan. “She’s right. He’s definitely been keeping shit to himself.”
“He does that.”
The unabashed sarcasm brought a slight smile to his lips. “Yeah, he does, doesn’t he? Don’t worry about it, though. I know he’s a slippery bastard, and I know better than to believe he’s got any real interest in mending fences.”
His mom laughed. “That sounds more like a child of mine.”
“Hey, you raised an FBI agent.” He chuckled. “Between the bureau and the Middle East, watching over my shoulder is probably ingrained in my DNA by now.”
“Eric, though.” Some of the gravity had returned to her voice. “I always tried not to say anything bad about him while you guys were kids. I didn’t want my negative opinion of him to taint how you two saw your father, but you’re adults now, and I think you’ve caught on to the type of person Eric Dalton is.”
“No doubt about that,” Noah muttered.
“I don’t want to say that he’s emotionless. He cares about some things, but, well…those things aren’t us, honey. They’ve never been us. He puts his wife and his other two kids on a pedestal, but there’s something about me, you, and Lucy that never quite worked for him. I swear, he didn’t start out that way. When we were in high school, he was different. But once he got a taste of how the other half of the world lived, that changed something in him.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’ve gathered.” Noah’s voice was hushed.
He didn’t give much of a shit about Eric, but he still hated what the man had put his mother through. There weren’t many people kinder or more down to earth than Olivia Alvarez, and she didn’t deserve the second-class treatment she’d received from Eric.
“Lucy said you told her he owes someone money?”
Noah leaned back against the headboard. “He sure does. Some ser
iously nasty people, in fact.”
“Huh. I can’t say I’m surprised. I always thought he’d dig himself into some sort of financial pit. I just figured it’d be with a bank, and not someone who wants to shoot him in the kneecaps.”
Noah laughed. That was the funniest damn thing he’d heard all day.
But even through the humor, there was one thing that Noah found uncertain.
If all the Russians wanted was to shoot Eric in the kneecaps, he wasn’t so sure he’d stand in their way anymore.
19
The streetlight glinted off the face of my watch as I checked the time. As much as I wanted to pace back and forth beside my car, I swallowed the compulsion and gritted my teeth.
The quiet crunch of tires against asphalt and the drone of an engine drew nearer, but the headlights had been turned off before the driver even pulled into the vacant lot.
A temperate breeze carried the salty scent of the ocean as it wafted past. Clenching and unclenching one gloved hand, I didn’t let my glare drift away from the figure of the man behind the steering wheel.
I’d been prepared for him to show up with a couple henchmen, but for once, he’d heeded my request to meet alone.
He might not have known the significance of his adherence, but I did.
Tonight was not the time to test my patience.
If Alek had shown up with two or three of his underlings, I’d have been tempted to shoot them all. I didn’t know if I’d emerge from such a firefight victorious, but right now, I didn’t especially give a shit.
The corner of my mouth twitched as Alek shoved the driver’s side door closed.
As he approached, I could tell from the rigidity of his gait that he was every bit as on edge as I was.
Though it might have been counterintuitive, his nervousness alleviated some of my own paranoia. Which was strange because, if Alek was nervous, then there was a damn good reason for me to be nervous too.
The Russian enforcer was six-four, broad-shouldered, and tattooed. In the warmer months, I’d caught sight of enough old-school Russian prison tattoos to establish that Alek was as battle-hardened as mafia men came. I didn’t know much about his past, but my instincts told me I didn’t want to know.