The Hunted Girls

by Jenna Kernan

  “Pack seems more like a biologist,” said Juliette.

  “And offering sounds religious,” added Tina. “And why call the two murdered women lures?”

  “Lures to bring the FBI?” suggested Nadine. “We have not only his words but also his penmanship and the timing. He was bold enough to speak of a capture that he had not yet accomplished.”

  “Calling his shot,” said Demko.

  “What?” asked Nadine.

  “Sports term,” said Juliette. “Players in baseball and basketball sometimes signal their intentions. It shows bravado and a certain arrogance.”

  “Exactly,” said Nadine. “Also, his grammar and punctuation are flawless. He’s educated with a better than average mastery of the English language.”

  “Lefty,” said Tina, her voice so soft, Nadine barely heard it.

  “That’s true,” said Demko. “Lefties make their strokes from right to left. See here.” He pointed to the top line of a capital T and the mark did seem to flow backward.

  “He’s printed this,” said Juliette. “No cursive.”

  Nadine looked at the tight, neat lettering that sat in a perfectly straight line. “Thoughts and lettering are organized.”

  “Looks like he used a ruler or something. Straight as an arrow,” said Tina and then sucked in a breath at the comparison.

  Nadine had to get back to her profile and so she brought the meeting to a close. Tina and Juliette vanished.

  Only then did she remember she hadn’t asked Juliette about the autopsy on the body recovered in the lake.

  Demko remained on the screen. It was clear from the angle that the phone was in the holder and he was driving.

  “Arlo get that information on the red-tagged truck?”

  “Sent it to his attorney. Arlo wrote to say thank you.” Some part of her still worried she would regret helping him return to society.

  He didn’t sign off.

  “What’s up, Clint?”

  “On my way back. I need to talk to Jack. He there?”

  That would be bad. Up to now, the two alpha males had coexisted by occupying different spaces. Demko rarely came into the office, preferring to be out in the world, talking to law enforcement, helping with search and rescue and exploring the forest.

  “Yes. Just a few minutes ago. About what?” she asked.

  “Something I saw on the security tapes. Just a speculation that I’d like Jack to dispel.”

  “What exactly?” she asked.

  “Let me find out if it’s even a thing. Okay? Make sure he doesn’t leave.”

  She didn’t like where this was going, but she trusted him.

  “Okay.”

  He disconnected and she stared at Tina.

  “What’s that about?” Tina asked.

  “Something bad.”

  Demko appeared within the hour. Together they headed to Skogen’s corner office, finding him behind his desk speaking to Agent Wynns.

  “Demko,” said Skogen by way of a greeting. Even the single word seemed a challenge.

  “I’ve been over the hotel security tape of the second-floor corridor several times,” said Demko.

  Skogen’s microtwitch set off alarm bells in Nadine. She’d studied body language extensively. Skogen was off balance.

  “Security tape?” he asked, as if confused. Repeating the question gave him time to think and he was doing that now, judging from the upward angle of his gaze.

  “Yes. The woman who came out to complain to Nadine about the noise in the hallway looks a lot like Linda Tolan.”

  Fifteen

  Nadine staggered back a step, but Demko caught her elbow and kept her from stumbling. She was no longer reading Jack’s expressions and body language because the implications of what Demko suggested struck her like a thrown bucket of ice water.

  “What are you saying? That I met her?” she asked, facing Demko and interrupting.

  “That’s what I’m trying to find out,” said Demko and turned to Skogen.

  Both Jack’s hands were up before him, palms out, in a classic gesture of halt. Then he extended his arms, pushing the problem back at them.

  “Look. We didn’t think it was wise to bring this to Dr. Finch at this time.”

  “Why the hell not?” she asked, her voice sharp, accusatory. “How am I to create profiles if you withhold data?”

  “We didn’t want to alarm you with it. Things like this can rattle a person and we need your head in the game.”

  “So you put her in danger,” said Demko.

  “No. We have undercover agents on her floor, yours as well, and embedded in the hotel.”

  “How long have you known?” Demko asked.

  “Digital forensics on Tolan’s phone recovered her hotel registration. We made the connection yesterday.”

  Demko’s hands went to his hips, his fingers just before the service weapon clipped to his belt.

  “I want the adjoining room,” said Demko.

  “Occupied by our—”

  “I want the adjoining room,” he repeated.

  Skogen sighed. “We’ll work that out.”

  The tingling shuddered over her skin as she prepared for a dash to the bathroom if her stomach continued to pitch.

  “Was the woman Nadine met in the hallway Linda Tolan?”

  Skogen’s voice held resignation. “Tolan stayed on her floor. She had the room next to Nadine reserved until Sunday. And, yes, Nadine and she spoke in the hallway the night before Tolan’s abduction.”

  “Important detail. Don’t you think? Because it means this killer might not have been targeting Tolan but was focusing in on your profiler.”

  Skogen pressed his lips together and said nothing.

  Nadine’s eye began to twitch. She pressed her hand to the spasm that continued to pulse.

  “But you already knew that. Didn’t you? And you are using her as bait.”

  Demko escorted Nadine back to her office, where Tina took over care and support. Demko headed back to confront Skogen. They took it behind the closed door of Agent Skogen’s office, but the barrier wasn’t thick enough to completely block their raised voices. She listened as she sipped the water from the mini bottle Tina had fetched.

  “You sure you’re going to be okay?” asked Tina. She hovered before Nadine and pressed a hand to her own throat, eyes wide as golf balls.

  “Yes,” said Nadine. If she kept her eyes closed, she could hear better and did not have to see Tina pacing.

  “Your color is not good.”

  “Thanks for that.”

  There was no mistaking Demko’s approach. He charged down the hall like an attacking grizzly. Tina flattened against the cabinets to avoid him. He drew up short before Nadine’s desk.

  “Come on,” said Demko.

  Tina stepped between him and her. “I’m not sure that’s a great idea.”

  Nadine’s eyes widened in astonishment that Tina would confront Demko when he was in such an agitated state. It showed either a monumental disregard for her own safety or outrageous courage.

  “She’s still white as a sheet,” said Tina.

  Demko ignored her as he might a troublesome moth flapping about him. He kept his gaze fixed on Nadine.

  “Get whatever you need. We aren’t coming back here today.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “It’s after six. I’m taking you for something to eat,” he said.

  “Clint, I have work to do on my profile. Linda’s still out there. We have to find her.”

  He looked to Tina. “Did she eat lunch?”

  Tina shook her head.

  Demko turned back to Nadine. “Bring your laptop.”

  She did, along with her purse and briefcase.

  “See you later, Tina.”

  She nodded, worrying her hands together as Nadine preceded Demko out of the office.

  At his SUV, he opened her door and helped her into her seat, then climbed behind the wheel. They set off in silence. She was happ
y for the few moments to compose herself and he seemed to need the time to lower his blood pressure.

  Clint spoke first. “Withholding that kind of evidence is reckless.”

  “Might have allowed me to sleep better not knowing.”

  He glanced in her direction and back at the road. “You don’t really think that.”

  “No. I don’t. It’s always better to know and prepare.”

  They drove away from Ocala and into the national forest, their headlights casting out before them, chasing back the darkness. The trees loomed on both sides of the road, seeming to close in about her.

  Nadine pressed a hand over her pounding heart.

  “He wrote that letter to you and he’s watching you.”

  “It’s why Skogen used me as bait.”

  “I could kill him for that.”

  She glanced his way, noting his clamped jaw. He looked fully capable of making good on that threat. She was glad they were driving away from the temporary office.

  “I wish it had worked,” she whispered. “That we’d caught him.”

  But they both knew it might have worked in the opposite manner, with Nadine now locked in a hog trap deep in the dark, dank woods. Her stomach knotted.

  “We’ll catch him. But not that way.”

  She nodded, drawing on his confidence.

  “Nadine, he knows that the FBI has a profiler. He stole your headband and put it in Tolan’s vehicle. He’s trying to figure out who you are. That’s why he’s watching the hotel. Likely, he’s watching the FBI field office. He would have seen all of us. Now he has to fill in the pieces. Linda Tolan was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. If she had chosen a different hotel, she might still be alive.”

  “Or if she hadn’t yelled at me.”

  He stilled and glanced at her. “You think that?”

  “I don’t know. Possibly.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he could have taken me as easily as he took her.” The truth of that froze the marrow in her bones. “But he didn’t.”

  “No. He followed her into the Ocala Forest and took her there.”

  “Did he? Or did he lure her there?”

  “How?”

  She shook her head, unsure. “It’s just a feeling. The others followed GPS coordinates to nowhere. We need to see if Linda Tolan did the same.”

  Her lips were still tingling. A sure sign that either her circulatory system or endocrine system had gone into protective mode.

  Demko drove them to a marina with a dining room that overlooked the St. Johns River.

  He ordered wine and they shared their appetizers—gator bites, deep fried and served with Thai chili sauce, and a smoked fish dip with saltines. The speed with which the food disappeared bore evidence that they were both starving.

  The server arrived with jambalaya for him and the blackened mahi dinner for her.

  Demko lifted the bottle of red wine, offering to refill her glass.

  “No, thanks.”

  He shrugged, refilling his. Their interactions felt forced to Nadine. Something was happening between them and it made her uneasy.

  They finished their meal and settled the bill, heading out.

  Demko checked his phone, retrieving a message. “Hotel vacated the room beside yours. Looks like Skogen is good for something.”

  Once back at the hotel, he escorted her to her room.

  “I’ve got to move my gear.”

  “I’ll unlock the door between our rooms. Come in after you settle in.”

  Nadine changed out of her dress. She was in her nightshirt and matching shorts when Molly rushed forward to greet her, tail wagging. His dog was permitted on the floor by request of the FBI and Nadine was glad to have the canine nearby.

  She found Clint in their mutual doorway. He gave his dog a few minutes and then called her back to his room.

  “You going to work?” he asked.

  “Too tired.”

  Demko seemed hesitant and their conversation faltered.

  He did not step into her room. A new uncomfortable tension radiated between them. It made her nervous. His expression showed concern.

  She’d made it a thing that he didn’t stay over in her place, but he wasn’t inviting her to his.

  Was he waiting for her to invite him to cross the threshold?

  Impasse. Stalemate.

  She knew one thing; a stalled relationship was one that was destined to end. Only that scared her more than moving forward.

  “Why don’t you come in?”

  He blew out a breath.

  “Well, you’re not breaking up with me because no woman would do that in her bedroom.”

  “Breaking up! Is that what you thought?”

  “Nadine, we can barely carry on a conversation if it isn’t work related. And every time I mention our relationship you change the subject. I guess I’m confused about what it is you want.”

  Nadine saw it all ahead of her. Their conversation about the relationship and where it was heading. His desires for them to take the next logical step. She still did not know what that step was because she had never allowed him to finish this conversation. She assumed it meant living together or possibly something that looked like an engagement. She saw the inevitable fight that would follow when she shot him down yet again.

  He stared at her with earnest blue eyes and a hopeful expression. She felt the push and pull within her as she struggled against her fears. She glanced away and heard him sigh.

  She crossed the distance between them, reaching up and stroking his cheek. His eyes drifted closed and he tilted his face into her palm. She lifted onto her toes and pressed her lips to his. He deepened the kiss as she threaded her fingers through his hair, pressing closer.

  It wasn’t fair to use her body as a diversion, but she needed his touch and thought he needed hers. There would be time for fighting tomorrow. But right now she needed comfort, solace and his mouth on hers.

  The sound he made deep in his throat was a growl of primal need. She felt the answering heat rising inside her.

  She tugged at his shirt, fumbling with the buttons. He stepped back into his room, dragging the garment up and over his head, tossing it away. She stripped out of her clothing and reached for his belt. He unclipped his weapon and badge, setting them on his side table, then dropped his khakis, kicking them aside.

  They tumbled to the bed together. Her need made her frantic. She wanted to be closer to him, needed to feel the friction in the glide. She rolled on top of him in a frenzied dash to their fulfillment.

  Afterward, they lay on their backs staring at the ceiling as the air-conditioning cooled the sweat from their feverish bodies and their heartbeats slowed. The next time was an unhurried sensual exploration. She was now well acquainted with the tempting hollows and hard planes of his chest and stomach. She loved stroking the perfect musculature of his torso.

  This time when they fell into satisfied lethargy, he wrapped her in his arms, holding her tight to his chest, and stroked her hair.

  He coiled one strand about his index finger and stared lazily down at her.

  “It’s not enough. I still want more.”

  She made a humming sound in her throat. “After a little rest.”

  “I’m not talking about the sex. Did you realize we are in your bed? That’s a first.”

  She opened one eye to glance about, perceiving her earlier olive branch as a potential tactical error.

  “So we are.”

  “That means you can’t sneak off the minute I get too close.”

  “You’re pretty close.” She smiled up at him, hoping he would be disarmed by humor. He did not smile, and her heart gave a panicked jolt. She glanced toward the door connecting their rooms.

  “I need something beyond a physical relationship, Nadine. I’m wondering if that is more than you are capable of giving me.”

  “Is that some sort of a threat?”

  Demko dragged his index finger over her bare sh
oulder and kissed her forehead. “Why do you always see me, us, as a threat?”

  “Because I don’t want to lose you, but I’m not ready to ‘move on.’” She made air quotes.

  “Move on to someone else?” he asked.

  “No, for us to move on. Can’t we just keep things as they are?”

  He gave a slow shake of his head, his smile a tragedy.

  “Not unless you explain it to me.”

  She sat up. He let her go. Did he expect her to flee? The urge to disappear into the bathroom was almost too much to resist. Instead she scooted sideways so she could face him.

  “My mom manipulated both me and my brother as kids. She withheld affection. She exploited us, controlled our behavior with bribery, threats and lies to keep us quiet and afraid. My therapist says my unwillingness to allow people too close comes from—”

  He cut her off. “I don’t want to know what your therapist said. I want to know how you feel about me.”

  “I think I just showed you how I feel.”

  “We’ve never had any issues in the bedroom, Nadine. I’ve never manipulated you and I never will. Is that really the issue?”

  Nadine gnawed on her lower lip. He waited and waited and finally rolled from the bed and retrieved his trousers and drew them on. He didn’t say anything as he reached for his service weapon and shield, but she knew. She was losing him and that scared her more than what might happen if she told him the truth.

  “Wait,” she said.

  “For what?” He sounded so weary.

  She scooped up her T-shirt and dragged it over her head. Then she grasped his hands and led him back to sit with her on the end of the bed.

  “It’s not just the past. It’s the future.”

  He lifted a brow. “Go on.”

  Here it was. What she’d been afraid to say to him, all this time.

  “I’m afraid of what you want and where it may lead us. I’m afraid that the next level and moving forward means a commitment. I’m afraid you want to get married again, and afraid you might want to have more kids.” She felt as if she might throw up.

  Instead of admitting that was what he was seeking, he said, “And that’s a problem for you because…”