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Bowen’s fingers flattened on the tabletop. “In that case, we need to make sure our cop friends are keeping extra eyes on Rowan Jacobs. I would hate for another witness to vanish.”

“It’s doubtful Rowan will tell us anything,” Samantha said as her stare drifted over the tactical board. “When the drugs are out of his system, odds are high the guy will remember nothing. And as far as the current information that kid gave us—” her gaze cut to Tucker “—the description fits you and it fits Jason Frost.”

“And too many other people wandering the streets of New Orleans,” Bowen groused. “Useless.”

So far, yes, it was.

“Bowen.” Samantha turned toward him. “I want you in Baton Rouge today. Meet with Heather’s family. Her friends there. Learn everything that you possibly can about her.”

He nodded.

“Macey...” Samantha’s attention shifted to her. “You’re still working with the coroner?”

Macey’s gaze dipped toward Dawn. “It’s...a slow process with Jinx.”

He saw Dawn pale. Dammit.

“Keep us updated,” Samantha ordered. “I’m also waiting to hear back on the analysis our unit is doing on the gloves Dawn recovered. Maybe the perp was sloppy. Maybe we’ll get a hit from the DNA database—something that can tell us who this guy is.”

Then her attention shifted to Dawn.

“I can help,” Dawn said as she stepped forward. “I need to help.”

“I know you do.” Samantha’s voice was gentle. “But he tried to attack you today. He’s gunning for you. Every moment that you are out in the open, that’s a moment that you’re at risk.”

Dawn’s chin lifted. “And every moment that I hide...that could be a moment when he’s looking to make someone else a pawn in this sick game he’s playing. You said he wanted me.” She looked at Tucker. “You both said that. So what do you expect him to do? I’m not a profiler, but I’ll tell you what I expect... I expect for him to keep hurting others as he tries to get to me.” She exhaled on a ragged breath. “And I can’t carry more guilt. I won’t.”

Samantha glanced at Tucker. Her eyes had gone dark and he knew she was pondering the situation. “I’d like a private word with you, Tucker,” she murmured.

He nodded grimly. The others filed out, but Dawn lingered. Her gaze flickered between Samantha and Tucker. “As I’ve already told Tucker, I’m not going to be shoved to the side. I have contacts in this town—I’m the one who got you Red’s location, remember that? Not using me would be a huge mistake, and I think you’re both smarter than that.” She turned on her heel and marched out.

The door closed quietly behind her.

He felt the weight of Samantha’s stare on him. Rolling back his shoulders, he glanced her way.

“She’s right,” Samantha murmured. “Her ties in this city could be an asset to us.”

“Anthony Deveraux has ties. His partner, Torez, has ties. Every damn cop in this PD has ties we can use.”

Her head inclined toward him. “True, but the killer is after her...and that means he’ll be focusing on the people close to her. People that ‘every damn cop’ won’t know.”

His jaw locked. “I want her safe,” he gritted.

“Because your emotions are involved. That’s the problem. And I worry it’s too much of a problem.” Samantha folded her arms across her chest and peered straight at him. “Blake Gamble and I don’t work cases together any longer.”

He knew Blake. One fine FBI agent—and Samantha’s lover.

“We don’t work them together because we’re too connected. Our emotions can get in the way. Instead of placing priority on victims...” Her lips twisted. “When we’re together, we worry too much about each other’s safety. That makes us a liability in the field.”

“You think I’m a liability?”

“That’s what I’m asking. I’m asking you—are your emotions controlled when you’re around Dawn Alexander?”

No. He’d already crossed a line and slept with her—and he’d do it again if he had the chance. “She matters.”

Samantha’s gaze turned assessing. “Matters to the extent that you won’t be able to do your job?”

“She is the job.” He blew out a frustrated breath. “And Dawn isn’t going to stay on the sidelines. Even if we turn her over to the PD for protection, she’s going to be determined to get involved in this investigation. It’s better if she stays with us, works with us... That way, I can keep an eye on her.”

“It’s a slippery slope,” Samantha warned him. “The longer you’re with her, the deeper your connection to her may become. I knew this was a risk when you came down here. But I thought since you hadn’t seen her in so long that the ties were gone.”

He wasn’t sure his ties to Dawn would ever be gone.

“You’re a target, too. I agree one hundred percent with your assessment there. This perp wanted you down here—he wants you in his crosshairs. He sees both you and Dawn as his targets.”

The guy had been smarter than Tucker anticipated that day—he’d deliberately divided them, trying to take Dawn away.

“This killer has already proved he won’t hesitate to kill a man. Dawn may not be the next target—you very well could be. If this guy was working with Jason Frost, then his anger could be more focused on you. Potentially, Dawn could just be a means to an end.”

Fuck, he didn’t like where this was going...

“You’re a good profiler, Tucker, so I’m sure you’ve considered the fact that this man...may want to hurt Dawn simply as a way of getting to you.”

He swallowed. “That was why Jason targeted her.”

Sympathy flashed on her face. “I know.”

My fault. If she hadn’t been with me, she would have been safe.

“I know that’s why Jason went after her, and none of us can afford to overlook the possibility that this killer is doing the same thing. His rage could be more targeted on you than her. After all, you’re the man who pulled the trigger. You are the one who killed the Iceman.” Her gaze was unflinching. “This guy could want to destroy you and Dawn could be the means to that end.”

I won’t let it happen again. She won’t be hurt because of me.

“You and Dawn are the ones he’s after. So you know what I need you to do, Tucker?”

He waited. If she told him to stay away from Dawn...

Her face tensed. “Find the bastard before he has a chance to hurt anyone else. Use Dawn and her connections. Use everything that you both know. And find him.”

* * *

“YOU ALL RIGHT?”

Dawn glanced up at the slightly hesitant question and found Detective Torez shuffling toward her. His dark head was bent forward and she could see the concern etched on his face.

“Just a few scratches.” She offered him a wane smile. “Would have been a whole lot better if we’d caught the bastard.”

He grunted. “I’m...sorry about Jinx.”

She had to swallow twice before she could reply. “Thank you. I’m sorry, too.” Sorry. Angry. Hurt.

He sat beside her on the little bench just outside the meeting room. Bowen stood a few feet away, watching them. Someone always seemed to be watching her these days.

“Cutting you out would be a mistake on their part.” Torez’s voice was low. “I think so, Anthony thinks so, hell, the whole department thinks so. You get shit done—we’ve seen it before. And if some guy is gunning for you, then I think you deserve the chance to hunt him.”

Her lips twisted. “I think so, too.”

Torez leaned closer to her. “We checked Jinx’s phone. There were other pictures on there. Pictures of your place. Pictures of the roses on your pillow.”

Her stomach clenched.

“There were pictu

res of you from the crime scene yesterday.”

Her gaze flew up to his.

“He was there, in that mass of reporters that gathered outside your home. He was in the crowd and he was snapping pictures of you. You and Tucker Frost.”

He left that phone deliberately. He wanted me to know that he’d been there, all along.

“We didn’t recover any prints from the phone. And Jinx’s house—hell, he must have wiped that place down. This guy knows how to cover his tracks.”

“The gloves,” she whispered. “He left the gloves at the warehouse. Maybe he wasn’t as careful there.”

His gaze dipped to the closed meeting room door. “Hope so. The FBI has those—they’re supposed to have the report back on them soon.” He focused on her once more. “The roses in your room led us nowhere. They are sold everywhere down here—kids on the street sell them. Vendors in the park. Uniforms talked to everyone they could find, but we aren’t getting a hit on the guy. Probably paid cash and walked away.”

Because he was smart. No paper trail.

“Anthony’s worried about you.” His voice went lower. “He doesn’t exactly trust your FBI buddy, Frost.”

She wet her lips. “Tucker knows killers.”

“Yeah, that’s the part that worries Anthony. Sometimes blood tells, you know? Frost’s brother was a psychopath. Cold as fucking ice, just like everyone says.”

The door to the meeting room opened. Tucker stood there, staring at her. His blue eyes were so bright.

And cold. No emotion showed in them.

Cold as fucking ice.

“Don’t forget that you have plenty of friends at the PD,” Torez murmured. “And we’ll have your back, always.” He stood up and walked away.

She rose, too. Slowly.

Tucker and Samantha came toward her. Samantha delicately cleared her throat and said, “Agent Frost is going to speak with your friends Jones and Malone today. Since you know those individuals so well, I want you to accompany him during the questioning.”

Damn straight.

Samantha stepped closer to her. “I’ve been where you are.” Her voice was low. “I know what it’s like to be in the crosshairs of a killer. And when that happened to me, I couldn’t just stand back and let others do the hunting. You’re not a typical civilian—I’ve read your files and I know the type of training you’ve had. The type of work that you’ve done.”

Hope tightened in Dawn’s chest.

“Agent Frost is going to stay with you. You will have a guard with you until we learn more, but you will be working with us. So be careful out there. You’re hunting, but so is the killer.”

* * *

“I DIDN’T CALL anyone else.” Jones twisted his apron as he stared at Dawn and Tucker. “Just you. Just like you said. One of my regulars came in because he was hungry and I asked him about Red. He gave me the tip that he was at the motel, and I called you. That’s all.” He blew out a rough breath. “Then I saw the news this morning about the body at that motel, and I knew it was Red. Damn it.”

Dawn put her hand on his and squeezed.

“My girl has too many dead on her table now.” His lips twisted. “I wanted to help find the killer. I didn’t want...I didn’t want this.”

“No one did,” Tucker said quietly.

“The man who gave you the tip,” Dawn prompted. “Your regular. What was his name? Where can we find him?”

“Young kid,” Jones muttered, letting go of his apron. “Blond guy, looks barely legal. He’s been on and off drugs for so long. I keep telling him to get clean, but...”

She stiffened. “Rowan?” That had been the boy’s name.

Jones’s gaze lit up. “Yeah, yeah, that’s it. He came by, desperate for food...and when I questioned him, the guy knew where Red was staying. Said he’d seen him go in the place.”

She shared a long look with Tucker, then she squeezed Jones’s hand once more. “Thank you.”

Dawn didn’t speak again, not until she and Tucker were away from the restaurant and back inside his rented SUV.

“Rowan is the link,” she said, voice excited. “We’ve got to get him to tell us more.”

Tucker cranked the vehicle. “Yeah, but he has to make fucking sense when he talks to us.”

“He knows who the killer is.” She was certain of this.

He drove them through the city. “According to him...I could be the killer. I look just like the bastard he described.” He gave a bitter laugh. “That’s a problem I have. Looking like a killer.”

She glanced down at her hands and saw they’d twisted in her lap.

For a moment, no one spoke.

Tucker exhaled slowly. “Malone is at Voodoo Tats. The crime scene guys finished up there, and I want to have another look around.” He turned at the light. “After we talk to him, maybe we can see Rowan again. Provided the guy isn’t still trying to smash his own brains out.”

He sees you. “I think he knows the killer was watching me.”

“Rowan could have been spouting pure bullshit.”

“Or he could have been telling us the exact truth.” Being high didn’t mean he was wrong. “Is there...is there a way I could talk to him?”

He made another turn. “Considering how violent he got during the last little chat, do you think that’s a good idea?”

“I think he’s the one with the most information. The one that we need right now.” She reached out and touched his hand as he gripped the steering wheel. “You would be with me.”

He stopped at the corner. Stared at her hand. “I didn’t do such a good job of looking out for you last time.” They were just down the street from Voodoo Tats. “Maybe Bowen should be the one watching you. Maybe Samantha is right... I’m too close to you.”

“I want you close.”

His gaze jerked up to hers.

“I like you close.” A hushed admission. “I don’t know Bowen. I don’t know Macey. I don’t know any of the others. You proved to me before that I could count on you.” He’d made the ultimate sacrifice for her. “I want you close,” she said again.

His eyes glittered. “And the secrets?”

“We have to stop them. Both of us. It’s time.” Past time. If there was any hope of a future for them, they had to face their past—every bit of it. No more secrets. No lies. No ghosts.

His hand lifted and curled under her chin. “If that’s the case, then maybe I should enjoy this while I can.”

“Tucker?”

He leaned toward her and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. So very careful. “You may not want me near you much longer.”

Not true. Hadn’t he heard her? He was the only agent that she felt comfortable with.

His forehead rested against hers. “It scared the shit out of me when I heard that gunshot. I couldn’t get back to you fast enough.”

“I’m okay.” Now she was the one to press a soft kiss to his stubbled cheek.

“I keep thinking...what if I’d gotten back to that alley and you’d been gone? What if he’d taken you?” His head lifted as he pulled away from her. “Or what if you’d been dead when I got back?”

She shook her head. “I wasn’t.”

“Samantha said she worried my control weakens when I’m around you.”

Her lips parted.

“She’s wrong, though. It doesn’t weaken.”

His face had gone so hard.

“It fucking shatters.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

ANTHONY NODDED TO the uniformed officer as he left Rowan’s hospital room. That dumbass kid had needed over twenty stitches in his head. And he’d been jerking like crazy, spasming as the overdose riddled his body.

He hated what drugs could do to a person. He’d watche

d his own mother battle addiction for far too long. He’d seen it eat away at her.

And kill her.

Drugs made you weak. Drugs destroyed your whole world.

“Tony!”

Anthony looked up and saw Torez hurrying toward him. His partner was the only one who got away with calling him Tony. “How’s the kid?”

Anthony glanced back at the room. “Not exactly talking, but at least he isn’t slamming his head into the nearest wall.” That was progress, of a sort.

Torez shook his head. “You think we’re gonna be able to get anything out of him about the killer?”

“Damn unlikely. On good days, eyewitnesses don’t remember much, and on days when those witnesses are jacked up on some drug...” He let the sentence trail away. “No dice.” Frustration boiled in his blood. “I hate that Dawn is at risk like this. What happened to Jinx...it can’t happen to her.”

They walked away from the room, keeping their voices low.

“The FBI team has taken over,” Torez said and the faint lines near his mouth deepened. “Doesn’t really seem right, having them running the show in our town, but Captain Hatch gave the order for us to follow their lead.”

Anthony was so damn tired. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept. “I called the FBI in because I knew they were better trained to work with the serial. As soon as I saw the girl in that freezer, I knew we weren’t dealing with a simple murder.” He paused. “I thought they’d find him and stop him before anyone else was hurt, but it didn’t go down that way. The profilers haven’t done shit.” His breath heaved out. “I don’t want to be wrong about them.”

Torez studied him but didn’t speak. But then, his partner didn’t have to speak. He could easily read the other guy’s doubt. Torez didn’t like playing backup.

Neither did Anthony.

Anthony rolled back his shoulders. “I got to crash, man. You’re staying here for a while and keeping an eye on our perp?”

Torez nodded. “Yeah, yeah, man. I got him. You get some rest.”

“Thanks, buddy.” Anthony turned away. “This case is exploding, and half the time, I’m afraid to see what is going to happen next.” He stopped. “Because more is coming, I know it.”


Tags: Cynthia Eden Killer Instinct Thriller