by Lisa Childs
“She won’t be if you use her as bait to lure out the Butcher.” Because the Butcher wouldn’t stop at scaring her; he would take her, and like Lexi, Jared would never be able to find her again. “You can’t do this.”
“We have to catch this killer,” Lynch said with all his intimidating intensity.
“I know that,” Jared said. “And I’m working on it.”
“For six years,” Lynch said.
“I have a profile.”
“White male in his thirties—single,” the chief paraphrased the profile. “Charming and affable on the surface but with a sadistic streak. You have a profile but no suspects that fit it.”
“Harris Mowery abused his fiancée before she disappeared,” Jared said. He certainly fit the profile.
“And he has an ironclad alibi for her disappearance.”
Jared silently cursed that alibi. If only he could have disproved it. But he had another suspect. “Kyle Smith.”
“Is charming and affable on the surface,” Lynch agreed. “But sadistic?”
Jared nodded. “He’s been relentless with Becca.”
“And you.” The chief’s dark eyes narrowed. “But with her, too. Not the other victims’ families—only Ms. Drummond. She is definitely the key to catching this killer.”
“The bait,” Jared corrected him.
“She volunteered,” Lynch pointed out.
“She isn’t equipped to deal with this killer.”
“Agent Campbell said she handled herself well in the dressing room at the boutique,” Lynch said. “You’re not giving her enough credit.”
“She’s smart and strong,” Jared said. “But the Butcher’s other victims were smart and strong, too. I don’t want her to become his next victim.”
“I want her to become his last,” Lynch said.
Panic gripped Jared’s heart. “You’re willing to sacrifice Becca to catch this killer?” That might have made sense in times of war or even in Ash Stryker’s antiterrorism division. But Jared had never been a marine like so many of the other agents. He couldn’t sacrifice any life for any reason. And he absolutely could not sacrifice Becca’s.
“She’ll be safe,” Lynch said. “We’ll protect her—just like we have Reyes’s bride. And she’ll be even safer when the killer is caught.”
Jared couldn’t argue with that. The best way to keep Becca safe was to catch the killer and put him behind bars for the rest of his life.
“I’ll talk to Mrs. Payne about having another wedding here—yours and Ms. Drummond’s.” Then the chief walked away as if Jared had given his agreement to this crazy plan.
But he hadn’t given Jared a choice; neither had Becca. She’d willingly put herself in danger.
He knew why—for Lexi. But from what he’d learned about Lexi, from Becca and from reading the young woman’s own journals, she wouldn’t want her sister risking her life. Not for any reason...
* * *
BECCA PROBABLY WOULDN’T have made it down the stairs without Agent Rus’s hand on her arm to steady her. The minute she’d walked away from Jared and the chief, she’d realized what she’d just done, and she’d started shaking with fear. What the hell had she been thinking?
Like Jared had said, she was not a trained agent. She was a civilian. A mother.
Alex ran up to her the minute she stepped into the reception hall. The room was big and bedazzled with twinkle lights and flowers and streamers. “It’s pretty, isn’t it, Mommy?” he asked as he clasped her hand. He gazed shyly up at Agent Rus.
“Prettier than my room,” Agent Rus agreed. “I understand you’ve been sleeping in my bed.”
Alex smiled. “It’s pretty comfy. Do you want it back?”
Rus shook his head. “No. I moved all my other stuff out. I think I’ll be staying here.”
So Jared had spoken the truth about Agent Rus’s assignment in River City. He couldn’t pose as her fiancé. But like Jared had said, after Kyle Smith’s report, only he could. Would he? Or would he refuse even if the chief ordered him?
“Nice meeting you both,” Rus said as he stepped away.
Alex’s smile widened. “Did you hear that, Mommy?”
“What?”
“We can stay with Daddy forever,” he said. “Agent Rus’s room can be mine now.”
Her stomach pitched with regret. Moving in with Jared had been a horrible idea—because it had given her son the wrong idea. And if he heard about their fake engagement, he would get entirely the wrong idea.
“We can stay in Chicago,” she said. She’d already decided to make the move—for his new school. Not for Jared. She knew now that Jared would never marry her—not for real. And probably not for fake, either. So she hadn’t put herself in more danger than she already was—at least not for her heart, only for her life.
She leaned down and swiped a dab of white frosting from the end of Alex’s little nose. “I see you checked out the cake already.”
“It’s so big, Mommy!” he exclaimed with excitement—his wish to live permanently with his father momentarily forgotten. “And Mrs. Payne says it’s vanilla and chocolate. I can have some after the bride and groom cut it.”
She wondered if he would be able to wait that long.
“Chief Lynch!” the little boy called out as his new best friend stepped into the reception area.
The chief was focused on the wedding planner, though, and he headed in her direction. Before Rebecca could stop him, Alex took off after the older FBI agent. She would have raced after him, but he was safe— probably safer here than anywhere else.
Glass tinkled as the guests tapped silverware against water goblets. “Kiss, kiss!”
Dalton Reyes needed no encouragement to kiss his bride. He stood up and drew her to her feet. Then he dipped her over his arm as he passionately kissed her.
Jared’s kisses were always full of passion. But what about love?
Feeling someone’s gaze on her, she glanced up and discovered Jared standing beside her. She couldn’t read the emotion in his amber eyes. But she recognized the emotion in his voice when he told her, “You got your way.”
He was angry with her.
“The chief agreed?”
He grimly nodded.
And her heart began to race again with panic and fear. What had she done?
He stared so intently at her that he missed nothing. He leaned closer, so close that his lips brushed her cheek, as he said, “You can change your mind.”
She shivered even as heat from his closeness warmed her. She wanted to move, just enough that his lips skimmed over hers. She needed his kiss. She needed his support. His love...
He took her hands in his—like the groom had taken the bride’s as they’d spoken their heartfelt vows just a short time ago. But instead of declaring his love, Jared declared his doubt. “This is too big a risk for you and for Alex.”
What about for him? Was it a risk for him? How much did he care about her?
She wanted to ask him. But she was more afraid of finding out his real feelings for her than she was of baiting a serial killer.
“You don’t have to do this,” he told her.
As scared as she was, she had no choice. “I have to,” she said. “I have to...”
She waited for him to argue some more. But he walked away instead to take his seat at the head table, next to the groom. And then, his face revealing none of his disappointment with her reply, he toasted the bride and groom.
“When I met Dalton Reyes, he was ready to pass out just from witnessing a wedding,” Jared said. “He had no intention of ever marrying. Then a short while later he found his bride—in the trunk of a car. And he started making promises he’d never made before—promises we all advised him not to make.” A few other men in the room laughed. “He promised that he would find who had hurt her and that he’d stop him. And he would protect her. Dalton kept all his promises and today he made some more that he will keep just as faithfully as he kept those first promises
he made to Elizabeth. And theirs will be a love that lasts forever.”
Tears stung Rebecca’s eyes, but she blinked them away and found Jared’s gaze on her as he lifted his glass. She wanted a love like the one he’d just described. But she knew that it would never be hers—even if she lived through baiting a serial killer.
Chapter Fourteen
The diamond twinkled in the sunlight shining through the window. It was probably a couple of carats—at least. Guilt gripped Jared; he hadn’t even bought Becca a ring. But then their engagement wasn’t real.
Was Harris Mowery’s? The woman looked more fearful than in love. So fearful that she wouldn’t dare contradict her fiancé’s story. She stuck to his alibi.
And the sunlight illuminated more than the diamond on her hand. It shone through the layers of makeup on her face to reveal old bruises. Jared didn’t need to warn the young woman about Harris Mowery; she already knew how sadistic the bastard could be.
Like Becca, Jared wanted Mowery to be the killer. He certainly fit the profile Jared had worked up of the Butcher. But Kyle Smith’s grinning face stared at him from the muted television that hung over the shiny marble fireplace in Mowery’s great room. Jared didn’t need to hear what the man was saying to know that he was reporting the engagement of the FBI profiler to the sister of the Butcher’s first victim. He wanted it to be Kyle Smith, too.
Maybe the two men were working together...
The front door creaked open, then closed with a loud slam. “Priscilla! Whose car is in the driveway?” Bristling with anger, Harris Mowery rushed into the great room as if ready to confront a lover. Then, seeing Jared, he drew to an abrupt halt and struggled to summon a grin. “Agent Bell...”
“Thought I would repay the visit you paid to Ms. Drummond’s home,” Jared said.
Harris’s already beady eyes narrowed. “So that’s what this is about? Payback?”
“That wasn’t smart showing up at her house,” Jared admitted.
Harris shrugged. “Thanks to your friend the reporter, everybody knows where she lives—probably even the real killer.”
And that was why she was no longer at her home. She was in Jared’s—her and Alex. They lived together like they were one happy family. But since she’d volunteered to bait the killer, she’d been sleeping in Alex’s room instead of his. The past few days had seemed nearly as long as the past six years without her in his life.
His heart ached as if he’d already lost her. But he hadn’t. Yet. He had a couple more weeks before his fake wedding date. That was why he’d stepped up his investigation, hoping to break Harris’s alibi. He wanted to catch the killer before the man had a chance to go after Becca.
Harris turned back to his fiancée. “Priscilla?”
The woman cringed in fear. “Yes?”
“You didn’t offer Agent Bell anything to drink,” he admonished her.
“Yes, she did,” Jared defended the timid young woman. “I didn’t want anything.”
“Well,” Harris said. “I would like a drink, sweetheart. Please fix me one.”
She jumped up from the couch and moved to pass Harris. But he reached out for her. And she instinctively cringed in reaction. Jared jumped up, ready to defend the woman if Harris got physical with her.
But he only kissed his fiancée’s cheek. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
Despite the other man’s sugary tone, there was a hardness in his eyes. A coldness that chilled Jared’s blood. When Priscilla passed him, he reached out, too—surreptitiously—and pressed his card into her trembling hand. On the other side of that card was contact information for a women’s shelter. If she didn’t call him, he hoped she would at least call the shelter.
Harris waited until his fiancée was out of the room before speaking again. “But you took care of the problem Kyle Smith caused Rebecca. She’s no longer staying at her house.”
Jared’s blood warmed now as anger coursed through him. “You went back to her house?”
“Of course not,” Harris said.
But Jared didn’t believe him. Harris Mowery had lost all credibility with him.
“I know she’s staying with you now.”
“How do you know that?” Jared asked. Was he the one who’d attacked her at the boutique, then? Whoever had must have followed her and Blaine from his apartment to the dress shop.
“You’re engaged,” Harris said. “So of course she would be staying with you.”
They hadn’t been engaged when she’d moved in, but that was none of Harris Mowery’s business.
“Congratulations, by the way,” the man remarked. “I’m surprised that you’d take the risk, though—what with the Bride Butcher still on the loose.”
Maybe the man was too smart to fall for a trap. Even Kyle Smith had been skeptical of their announcement.
So Jared told him what he had Smith. “I already missed six years of my son’s life. I should have been with him and Rebecca that whole time.”
“Instead of chasing a killer?”
“Oh, no,” Jared said. “I would have still chased him.”
“You’ve been chasing him for six years, Agent Bell,” Mowery said, his voice patronizing. “But you’re not any closer to catching him.”
Jared grinned. “Oh, I’m close now.” He took a step toward Mowery. “Very close.”
Harris uttered a nervous laugh and stepped back. “If you’re close, you know that it’s not me. I have an alibi.”
“For Lexi’s murder.” Maybe he’d hired it done because he’d known he would be the prime suspect. “Not the others. Not Amy Wilcox’s.”
That anger gripped him again, flushing his face and bald head. “My fiancée—”
“Would say whatever you told her to,” Jared assured him. “She didn’t contradict you.” She wouldn’t dare.
Harris smirked. “Because it’s the truth.”
Jared shook his head.
“Because she loves me.”
“Because she’s afraid of you.” She was obviously more afraid of Harris than she was of going to prison for being an accessory to murder. Jared had mentioned that threat to her. Maybe he was the one who’d made her so fearful. But he hadn’t given her those bruises. He’d asked, but she’d denied having any.
“You’re letting Rebecca and her wild accusations about me get to you,” Harris said, and then he uttered a heavy sigh. “But of course you would, she’s your fiancée now. So when’s the big day?”
It would never happen if Jared had his way. Not that he didn’t want to ever marry Becca. But he wanted a real wedding—not a fake one to trap a killer. “We’re trying to keep the wedding small,” he replied. “And private.”
“So I shouldn’t look for an invitation?” the man teased. “Well, I would at least like to send a gift. Where will it be held?”
“Again—trying to keep it private,” Jared said. “For her protection.”
“So if something happens to her,” Mowery asked with that unsettling grin, “will you become the prime suspect, Agent Bell?”
Jared wanted to hit the guy. Hard.
“You wouldn’t like that, would you?” Harris taunted him. “Of course I would believe you’re innocent, though.”
Of course he would because he knew who the real killer was: him.
“It’s just so crazy to suspect the fiancé,” Harris continued. “Like Rebecca suspecting me. Why? Why would I have killed my fiancée? I really wanted to marry Alexandra. I would still marry her today.”
Priscilla, walking back into the room with his drink, paled, all the color draining from her face. Her hand, holding the glass, began to shake so much that the alcohol sloshed over the rim. Now she knew—she wasn’t the woman Harris really wanted to marry.
He didn’t even notice her reaction, or he noticed and didn’t give a damn. He continued speaking to Jared as if she hadn’t even entered the room. “Wouldn’t it be more likely that the man she hadn’t married was her killer?”
“What do you m
ean?” Jared asked. He’d interviewed the man before but he’d never brought up another suspect.
“Look into Lexi’s ex-boyfriend,” Harris suggested, “the man she dropped for me. That’s the guy who probably killed her and, no doubt, all the others.”
“Becca never mentioned Lexi having an ex-boyfriend,” Jared said.
Harris shrugged. “Maybe she didn’t know her sister as well as she thought she did.” He grinned. “Or maybe you don’t know your fiancée all that well.”
“I know that no one wants to find Lexi’s killer more than Becca does,” he said. So much so that she was willing to risk her own life to catch him.
Harris shook his head. “She only wants her killer caught if that man is me.”
“Don’t you want her killer caught?” Jared asked.
The other man drew himself up taller than his stocky frame. Was his lack of height another reason he picked on women? Hurting them made him feel like a bigger man?
“Of course I want Alexandra’s killer caught.”
“Then why didn’t you ever mention this ex-boyfriend before?”
Harris shrugged. “George Droski was an insignificant man. I forgot all about him.”
Jared doubted that, but he wondered about Harris’s timing in mentioning him. He’d had an unbreakable alibi for Lexi’s disappearance. But his alibi for Amy Wilcox’s abduction was shaky at best. Before he turned to head for the door, he caught Priscilla Stehouwer’s gaze on him. And he suspected she might call him and the shelter.
* * *
WHILE REBECCA HAD submitted her résumé and references to a few hospitals in the area, she hadn’t been asked to interview yet. Which was probably a good thing because planning her fake wedding had become a full-time job.
She cradled the phone against her shoulder as she studied the images on the computer screen in front of her. Her head began to pound and all the bright colors of the collage of wedding bouquets ran together before her eyes. “They’re all beautiful, Mrs. Payne—”
“Penny, please,” the wedding planner corrected her. “And you have to pick one.”
Why? It wasn’t a real wedding. And even if it was, Rebecca wasn’t certain how interested she would be in every little detail. Lexi had tried to include her in the planning of her wedding, but Rebecca had been too busy to weigh in on any of her sister’s decisions.