The Profiler

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The Profiler Page 24

by Chris Taylor


  He flashed her a grin. All white teeth and shadowed cheeks. He hadn’t taken the time to shave. Still, he looked hot.

  Heat crept into her cheeks and she looked away, grateful for the sunglasses that shaded her eyes from his way-too-observant gaze. She didn’t know why she suddenly felt shy—after all, the man had seen her naked and touched her in places no man had for a long time, but she couldn’t deny it.

  Despite their night and morning of shared passion, she felt awkward and unsure.

  Oh, he’d spoken words of love, but everyone knew they meant nothing. It was just what guys did, wasn’t it? He’d probably already forgotten.

  The passenger-side door opened. Spicy cologne and the aroma of warm male assaulted her nostrils and she braced herself against it. God, he smelled good. It evoked images of naked skin and sensual lips, firm planes and tight buttocks.

  She closed her eyes against those thoughts and shook her head. This was ridiculous. She was a grown woman. A woman of some experience. She wasn’t a dreamy-eyed, naïve virgin romanticizing over her first time. Christ, Cooper. Get a grip.

  “Thanks for the coffee. It smells great.”

  So do you, she almost added before clamping her mouth shut. What the hell was she doing? They were on their way to work.

  That’s what they were. Work colleagues. Why the hell hadn’t she remembered that last night, before she let her much-neglected libido dictate the terms?

  With a little sigh, she flipped on her indicator and headed out into the traffic.

  “What’s the matter, Ellie?” His voice, soft and full of concern, almost did her in.

  She cleared her throat and concentrated on the road in front of her. “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. Just tired, I guess.”

  A frown creased his forehead. His eyes were concealed behind dark Ray Bans, but she felt them upon her as she turned her attention back to the road.

  “Look, I know this is a bit awkward, but it doesn’t have to be. I don’t regret one instant of our time together. In fact, I can’t wait until we—”

  “Please, let’s not talk about it,” she interrupted as panic started to set in.

  He cursed and took off his sunglasses. His eyes bored into hers. “Ellie, we did nothing wrong. It was great. It was wonderful. You made me feel alive.”

  “Can we please just not talk about this right now? I’m really not ready to do this.” Her hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Let’s just say it was nice for both of us and leave it at that, okay?”

  “Nice?” Clayton’s jaw tightened and a pulse beat in his neck. “Is that how you’re describing it?”

  Ellie swallowed against the full-blown panic that threatened to take over. She didn’t know why she was anxious, but there it was. Could it be she didn’t want him to renew his declarations of love in the cold, harsh light of day when there were a lot fewer reasons to hide under? After all, he now knew about Jamie and somewhere along the way she’d come to accept he was nothing like her ex.

  Maybe she felt she didn’t deserve it? Didn’t deserve to be happy? She made an impatient noise deep in her throat. What was this psycho-babble bullshit? She’d been to enough shrinks to know it was exactly the sort of crap they’d come out with.

  Last night had nothing to do with Jamie. It was just sex. Wild, uninhibited, mind-blowing, soul-satisfying sex. Good for the body. Good for the soul. Nothing more, nothing less.

  That was why she was irritated with Clayton for trying to make it into something it wasn’t.

  “Ellie, talk to me.” His voice, low, commanding, caring, sent a shard of pain straight to her heart. How could she talk to him? How could she tell him how damaged she was? She couldn’t fall in love. She had no capacity to love left inside her. That had all been taken away the day she’d buried her son.

  She skimmed a glance in his direction. He deserved more. Much more. He was good and kind and generous. He had a heart as big as an elephant. He deserved a woman who was whole.

  Besides, he didn’t love her. He couldn’t love her. It was obvious—he was still in love with his wife.

  She cleared her throat, determined to put it all behind her. “I’ve been thinking about the taxi thing.”

  He sighed, disappointment filling his eyes.

  Gritting her teeth, she ploughed ahead. “Sally Batten caught a cab home, right?” He grudgingly offered a nod of agreement.

  “Josie Ward was also going to catch a cab home. Angelina was on her way home. Now, I know we’ve been told that she usually caught the bus, but what if she didn’t?” She turned to him as the thought began to take hold. “What if she didn’t?”

  * * *

  Clayton’s head spun and he struggled to keep up with the change in conversation. His mind had been crowded with images of them together, skin on skin, heart to heart and all Ellie wanted to do was pretend it didn’t happen.

  It was like asking him to fly to the moon. It had been the most fantastic night of his life and she was asking him to forget about it.

  It wasn’t going to happen, but now wasn’t the time to argue his point. For whatever reason, she was determined to make light of it and for the moment, he had to be satisfied with that. There was still a killer on the loose and it was his job to find him.

  Swallowing another sigh, he focused his attention on the conversation. “You’ve got a point. It’s definitely worth considering. We know it was raining when Josie and Sally disappeared.”

  “And Angelina,” Ellie added, her voice indicating her growing excitement. “At least, it was that morning. Her mother told us that. If it was still raining when she left the university, it’s feasible she caught a cab home.”

  He picked up on her excitement. “A cab driver fits the profile. They’re mobile, trustworthy and invisible. We pass by them every day and never even notice. If you needed one, you wouldn’t hesitate to flag it down and jump into the back of the first one that stopped.”

  “Or the front. Some people ride in the front, you know.”

  “Of course. I always ride in the front.” A synapse connected in his brain and his pulse leaped. “I bet that’s how he does it.”

  Ellie frowned. “Does what?”

  Sitting up straighter in his seat, he took a healthy swig of his coffee. “Okay, let’s just assume our guy’s a taxi driver. Most people get in the back, right?”

  She nodded.

  “So, how does he overpower them? They were all fit and healthy young women. I don’t think this guy is large, so how come they don’t get away? What does he do to immobilize them?”

  “Maybe he waits until he picks up a passenger that sits in the front?” Ellie said. “Or what if the back door wouldn’t open and it was raining? They’d probably jump in the front. It would be pretty easy to pull a gun or even a knife on someone sitting a foot away from you.”

  “You’re right. None of them were shot, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t used a gun to threaten them. All he needs is to frighten them enough to get them to do as he says.”

  She nodded again. “He’s already gotten them into his car. It’s not too much of a stretch to imagine he intimidates them first by taking them somewhere different from where they’ve asked to go. Short of pulling open the door and taking their chances by leaping out of the moving vehicle, what choice do they have but to go along with it? By the time he pulls the weapon, they’re already feeling vulnerable.”

  “Okay, so let’s look harder at the cab companies. We know Sally caught an Orange Cab. It’s as good a place as any to start. The girls were all picked up around the Penrith area. We can go through the driver records and see which ones tend to cover that strip. That should help narrow it down a little bit. And then of course, there’s the Tuesday thing.”

  A frown creased her forehead and she shot him another quick look. “What Tuesday thing?”

  He shut his eyes briefly, remembering he hadn’t told her. Then he remembered why he hadn’t told her. With clenched teeth, he forced those images out of his mind a
nd turned to her.

  “The girls all went missing on Tuesdays. I’m not sure why I didn’t see it before, but I worked it out last night.” He flushed and looked away. “It’s what I came over to tell you.”

  Silence met his revelation. He snuck a peek in her direction. She looked bewildered and then bemused. A grin tugged at her lips.

  “So, you really didn’t come over to seduce me?”

  He groaned. “I thought we’d already been over this. I told you last night—”

  Her face softened. “I know.”

  The heat in his cheeks intensified. He cursed the sunglasses she’d replaced over her eyes, concealing them from him. He needed to see her, dammit. He needed to see what she was thinking.

  “So, we’ve got Tuesdays; we’ve got taxis. We’ve also got DNA and fingerprint evidence. More than we’ve had since the start of all this.” Her eyebrows rose as another thought occurred to her. “Maybe we could ask our list of drivers to volunteer to give samples?”

  He grimaced. “That would certainly be the quickest way to eliminate potential suspects, but I’m not liking your chances of men lining up to volunteer their DNA.”

  “Well, if they’ve got nothing to hide, they should be happy to do anything they can to hasten the investigation. I know if it was me, I’d be lining up in a flash.”

  “Unfortunately Ellie, not everyone is as civic minded as you.”

  “Still, it’s worth a shot. And you never know, our guy might just be silly enough to fall for it.”

  “Yeah, except for the fact that he’s been ultra-meticulous at his crime scenes. If it wasn’t for the fingerprints on that plastic bag and the skin cells under Angelina’s fingernails, we’d have next to nothing and even that evidence has led nowhere.”

  “You’re right. But it’s worth a shot. I think we’re definitely onto something with these taxis.” She smiled and his heart lightened.

  Maybe she just wasn’t a morning person?

  He could live with that.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “Riley! What the hell are you doing here?” Clayton stopped in mid-stride as he entered the main door of the station, Ellie right on his heels. His brother vacated the olive-green, molded plastic chair he’d been seated in and made his way toward them.

  “Hey, little brother.” Riley leaned close and gave him a friendly punch on the arm. “Just thought I’d drop by and say hello.”

  Conscious of Ellie standing behind him, he flushed and looked away. His feelings for her were still so new, he wasn’t ready to share them with anyone, including his family. Especially his family. He swallowed a groan when she stepped forward and offered her hand.

  “Ellie Cooper, nice to meet you.”

  Riley eyed her curiously and returned her handshake. “Riley Munro. I’m Clayton’s older brother.”

  “Yeah, by about three minutes,” Clayton snorted.

  “Three minutes? You mean, you’re twins?” Ellie looked back and forth between them, confusion clouding her features.

  “Yeah, fraternal twins,” Riley agreed easily. “As you can see, I was the one who got all the looks.”

  Her gaze traveled over his bronzed skin. Closely cropped, black curly hair emphasized the piercing greenness of his eyes. A broad nose and well-formed lips hinted at an Aboriginal heritage. She shook her head, still staring in confusion.

  Taking pity on her, Clayton explained. “Mom’s white, with English blood running through her veins right back to the days of the convicts. Dad’s an Aboriginal. Some of us took after Mom. Riley here looks a lot like Dad.” He shrugged, hoping she’d understand.

  “Wow, that’s amazing.” She still sounded dazed. “Didn’t you say there were six of you?”

  “Seven, actually. Five boys and two girls,” Riley replied, his mouth stretching into a grin that revealed straight, white teeth.

  She looked over at Clayton, who was doing his best to ignore the conversation as he moved his weight from one foot to the other. He just wanted to get her away from his brother and his much-too observant eyes. He should have known it wouldn’t be easy.

  She angled closer to Clayton, her curious gaze now coming to rest on his face. “So where do you fit into the line-up?”

  Clayton snorted. Impatience surged through him. The longer they lingered, the greater the chance Riley would sense a closeness between them that was far more than what was necessary between partners. And his twin would know. He’d been a cop as long as Clayton. But with Ellie’s bright, questioning gaze still upon him, he had no choice but to reply.

  “Fifth,” he muttered, groaning inwardly, catching the speculative gleam in his twin’s eyes when he looked from one to the other.

  “So, Ellie, how long have you been working with my brother? He’s not a bad sort, is he? If you’re in the market, that is.”

  Clayton shot him a murderous look. Ellie appeared not to notice as she laughed good-naturedly.

  “Yeah, he’s not a bad sort. Once you get over a few minor character flaws.” Her eyes softened on his face and his heart thudded. He felt Riley’s gaze upon them, but was powerless to drag his eyes away from her.

  “Ah hm.” Riley cleared his throat, breaking the spell. Clayton flushed again and refused to meet his twin’s eyes. In growing desperation, he cast around for an excuse to leave.

  “We’ve got to get upstairs, mate. We think we might have just caught a break in the case we’ve been working on.”

  He took Ellie by the elbow and steered her away from his brother.

  “No worries, Clay. I’m in town a few nights. I’m staying with Declan. Give me a call when you get free. We might all meet up for dinner.”

  “Yeah, sounds good,” he threw over his shoulder and hurried them toward the stairs and away from Riley’s knowing gaze.

  “I can’t believe you have a twin!” Her eyes gleamed in amusement as they climbed the stairs.

  He frowned and pushed open the door to the detective’s room that was alive with activity. “He lives up north, in the country. I don’t know what’s brought him down to Sydney. He hates the city.”

  “Maybe he’s come to visit you. I take it you’re pretty close? Most twins are.”

  “Yeah, I guess so,” Clayton mumbled, swallowing a sigh of gratitude as Ben strode toward them.

  “Clayton, Ellie. Here’s what we’ve got.” He handed them a computer printout containing a list of names. “These are the guys who cover the Penrith area for the Orange Cab Company. I’ve highlighted the ones who were on duty during the times our girls went missing.”

  He pointed with his finger at the page Clayton had taken from him. “Of course, we don’t know for sure what time Angelina disappeared, but I had the cab company put anyone who was rostered on during the twelve-hours either side of the approximate time of disappearance. We’re going with the theory they all went missing on a Tuesday and we’d rather have too many than not enough.”

  “Absolutely,” Clayton agreed, scanning the list. Nothing jumped out at him. He looked up at Ben. “Have you run this through the data base?”

  “Cheryl and Luke are working on it. So far, nothing much has come of it. A couple have had minor scuffles with the police. No arrests. Certainly nothing to spark our interest.”

  Ellie took the page from him and skimmed it. She frowned and bit her lip in concentration. Clayton tore his gaze away and fixed his gaze on Ben.

  “I’m liking the sound of a cab driver more and more. It certainly fits the profile.” He moved away and paced the room as he relayed their latest brainstorming to Ben. When he finished, Clayton was breathing a little faster. His gaze remained fixed on Ben’s face.

  “He’s a cab driver, Ben. We’re looking for a cab driver. I know it.”

  Ben’s expression turned grim. He quirked an eyebrow at Clayton. “You still think our guy lives nearby?”

  “Absolutely. The girls went missing within a couple mile radius. One after another in a fairly short time period.” His eyes narrowed. “He’s w
orking from home.”

  Ben clapped his hands. “All right everybody, listen up. I want every available body on this one. We know our guy works for the Orange Cab Company. His name must be on that list. There are about a hundred names on it. At least half of them live in the area we’re interested in. I want you to split the list between all of you and start door knocking. Make sure you have pictures of the missing girls. Ask some questions. Look for the body type. See if you get a reaction. Someone must know something.”

  Ellie’s gaze returned to the piece of paper in her hands. “Wilson,” she mused. “Why does that name sound familiar?”

  Clayton frowned. “Wilson. You’re right. I’ve heard that name before, too.” He walked closer and peered at the paper over her shoulder. “The address matches up to the area we’re interested in. But then, so do a lot of them.”

  “Yeah, I guess so. And hey, it’s a fairly common name out here.”

  Clayton’s phone rang. He pulled it out of his jacket pocket and checked the caller ID. Apprehension filled him when he recognized the number. He shot her an apologetic look. “I need to take this. It’s my mother-in-law. She’s looking after Olivia.”

  He turned away abruptly and pressed the answer button. Tension set his jaw. She never called him during working hours. “Janet, what’s the matter?”

  “Oh, Clayton, I’m sorry to call you while you’re working, but it’s Olivia.”

  “Olivia? What happened? Is she all right?”

  “Yes. No. I mean, she’s okay, but she’s had an accident at pre-school. She’s fallen off the flying fox and broken her arm.”

  “The flying fox? What the hell would she be doing on a flying fox?”

  “I know. That’s what I thought when the pre-school called to tell me. Apparently, it’s part of the playground equipment.”

  His lips compressed. “How bad is it?”

  “Pretty bad, I think. It’s been broken in a couple of places. They’re talking about taking her to surgery to reset it.”

 

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