by Mary Stone
Giving up, she laughed as Noah strode over to disentangle her from the mess she’d gotten herself into.
“Some FBI agent I am, huh?” She sighed. “Defeated by a kitchen table.”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “Don’t worry, you’ll get ‘em next time.”
She groaned and buried her face in his chest. “I can only imagine how she must be feeling today.”
“She’s tough. She didn’t get out of the childhood she had without becoming resilient. Or tend bar for that long without being able to keep other people’s hands off her. Autumn is—”
Her phone buzzed, really this time, and she was out of Noah’s arms and pouncing on the cell in record time. “It’s a message from Autumn.”
Noah was rubbing his ribs from where she’d accidently elbowed him in her rush. “What did she say?”
Winter smiled as she recited it off. “The FBI, where the gossip travels faster than the speed of light. I’m up so call me when you get this.”
Noah kissed the top of her head. “I need to go through my email before hitting the shower. Have fun.”
He didn’t have to tell her twice, and Autumn picked up on the second ring. “Hey, I’m so sorry that I left everything up in the air with Justin.”
Winter blinked, taken aback. For a few minutes, she hadn’t even thought of her brother. That must have been a record. “I just wanted to know if you were okay after last night.”
Autumn made a sound that could have been a laugh or a scoff. “Would you believe it? I was more worried about you and Justin.”
That was them. Worried about each other.
Winter didn’t have a sister, but if she did, she’d want the sibling to be just like her friend.
Winter hurried to her bed and flopped down. “Tell me everything.”
Autumn did, and ten minutes later, Winter was up and pacing again. “The arrogant asshole.”
“I know. The funny thing is that I truly believe he doesn’t see it that way. I felt…”
Winter closed her eyes, knowing what her friend was going to say. “When he touched you, you felt his thoughts, didn’t you?”
There was a long pause. “Yes. After I sent the message to Mike, he called Adam before calling me, and of course, Adam denied everything. He said that I’d gone to his room, that we’d talked about how jealous I’d been over his friendliness toward the foster girl. He said that I came on to him.”
He said, she said. It was the worst kind of game.
“But he slapped you!” Winter was indignant for her friend. She’d already thought of a dozen places where they could hide Adam Latham’s dead body.
“Yes, he did. When I got back to my room, I took a picture, but Adam said that I’d given him no choice. He said that after I attacked him for turning me down that he slapped me to make me see some sense.”
“What did Mike say?”
“That mentors avoid even the appearance of impropriety, and that the appearance was just as bad as the thing itself.”
Winter sighed. That was nowhere close to good enough, but she already knew the legal tangle Shadley and Latham would have to deal with if Mike had to force Adam out of the partnership without any real proof.
It wasn’t fair, but it was what it was.
And just like that, she thought of yet another place to hide his dead body.
“Mike said that Adam seemed to understand that he’d crossed a line because he’d allowed me to cross it first. He couldn’t understand that my interpretation of events could possibly be just as important as his, but the idea that the public might find out about what he’d done and think badly of it, apparently that hit home. Barely.”
“What will happen next?”
The phone clicked as Autumn put it down, and the tone of her voice changed. The clicking of cases was familiar. Autumn was putting on makeup.
“I don’t know, and I can’t really care at this point. Mike made it very clear that it wasn’t my problem last night while we were on the phone. I really just need to focus on the case. But…what about you? Are you okay? Noah called and told me that you visited with Justin, and it didn’t go well.”
Winter sank back down on the bed. The mention of her brother took the air out of her. “Let’s talk about that later. He’s not going anywhere. Let’s talk about your serial killer instead.”
Autumn sighed and the phone rattled again as she picked it up. “Our chief suspect is Kyle Murphy, but I’m not so sure. I’m torn between wanting to empathize with him and doing whatever it takes to catch him. He lost his parents when he was seventeen, and the years he had with his family are sketchy at best. If he’s our man, he’s killed at least thirteen people that we know of.”
Winter could speak from experience about hunting down a serial killer that she had more empathy for than was good for her, but she didn’t want to bring Justin up again directly. “The thing to remember right now is that stopping him is for his own good too. He’s not fully in control of himself. He knows that it’s not going to end well, but he’s so caught up in what he’s doing that he doesn’t know how to stop the avalanche he’s started.”
“I get that…I think. Most of the time.”
“You can worry about the rest of it later. Do you need help?”
There was a rolling sound on the other end of the line. The jangle of hangers. “With the Rose family murders, the FBI is getting more fully involved. Agents are on their—”
“I’d like to come.”
“To Oregon?”
Winter was on her feet again. “Absolutely.”
Autumn hesitated. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve worked manhunts before, you know. I can help with the practical tracking details that will be needed.” Winter smiled, trying to lighten her voice. “I have a pretty impressive close rate too. You don’t want to pass me up.”
Autumn laughed, just like she hoped she would. “Will Max let you come?”
“Absolutely.”
Actually, she wasn’t a hundred percent sure about that, but if he didn’t, she still had some extra personal days she could take.
There was a rustle of cloth. “I would love to have you here. To be honest, I really need you.”
Winter’s heart squeezed. “I need you too. Now, tell me the details.”
As Autumn went through the pertinent information, Winter grabbed her rolling travel bag from the closet. She had long since filled it with most of the basics she needed for travel, and only needed to throw in a few extra cold weather clothes from her closet to be ready to go. She unzipped it.
Autumn laughed. “You’re already packing?”
Winter rummaged through the bag. “If I’m going to catch the next flight to Oregon, I have to get ready. I’m sure Noah will understand. I just need to run it past Max as soon as I get off the phone with you, but I’m sure he’ll say yes.”
Autumn let out a long breath. “Okay, send a text when you know when you’re getting in. I’m getting my own rental so I have a separate vehicle from Adam, so I can pick you up.”
“All right. I’ll let you know. See you soon.”
“Thanks, Winter. Really. I’ll be glad to see you.”
They hung up, and even as Winter was scrolling through for Max’s contact information, Noah tapped her on the shoulder. He held up his own phone. Max’s bald head was on the screen.
Winter grinned, grabbed the device, then began to explain the situation but Max cut her off. “Dalton has already apprised me of the situation, and I read about the Rose family murders last night. You’re a go.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Keep me updated and catch the bastard.”
“Yes, sir.”
In under five minutes, Winter’s bag was packed and she had gone over her short list of things to double-check: phone, charge cord, wallet, her Glock 22, her badge, vitamins, and authorization papers for taking her Glock onto the plane.
Her phone dinged, letting her know that her plane tickets had arrived.
&nbs
p; Noah was pulling on his shoes. “You’re not mad that I listened in?”
Winter kissed him firmly on the lips. “Furious.”
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. “Do I have time to apologize?”
“Nope.” But she didn’t move out of his arms. “Not unless you can teleport me through traffic to the airport.”
Traffic was its usual mess, but Winter had no trouble getting through security. Being a federal agent had its privileges, and she wasn’t embarrassed to use this one.
As Winter rolled her bag toward her gate, someone with another rolling bag stepped in next to her. He was a tall, angular man with a heavy brow and a face that wasn’t pretty so much as it was interesting—Autumn’s other boss, Mike Shadley.
She stopped, and they shook hands.
“You’re heading to Oregon too?” he asked.
“I certainly am.”
Mike shook his head, his voice gravely and rueful. “My genius partner with no social skills has finally revealed himself as being a complete and utter asshole…probably worse. What kind of mess are we walking into?”
Winter hadn’t met Mike more than a handful of times, but she couldn’t help thinking of him as the sort of uncle who got you in trouble as a kid, but also helped coach you on how to sweet talk your way out of it. If he hadn’t been such a good guy, he wouldn’t have been able to put up with Adam for so long—but was that a good thing?
As an agent, Winter had the right to be called onto the plane first, but she took her time, wanting to hear more of what he had to say.
“Autumn can handle it.”
“I know Autumn can handle it. She shouldn’t have to.” He blew air out of his cheeks. “I shouldn’t have sent him with her. I should have gone myself. I should have known better. But Adam has always talked a good game, and we were sure this would be over in a day or two.”
“Everybody has regrets sometimes.”
They fell into the end of the line together, and when they compared seat numbers, they found that they were in the same row but across the aisle from each other.
Mike seemed pleased, his lopsided face wrinkling up in half a grin. “That’s good. Then I won’t elbow you accidentally and piss you off.”
“I’ll just be glad to have the company on the flight.”
His grin fell away. “We better rest up. We’ve got more than one situation to handle in Oregon.”
A chill passed over her. She had been so focused on her worry about Autumn that she had almost forgotten one very important thing. This wasn’t a vacation. They were hunting a killer.
20
Autumn picked up her sporty RAV4 and parked next to a deputy’s car on the opposite side of the parking lot from Adam’s filthy SUV. It was drizzling again, and a new layer of mud was splattered around the bottom third of the vehicle. Hers would look like that soon.
Before she opened the door to step inside the sheriff’s office, Autumn stopped to mentally focus. She had called Carla the night before to explain what had happened with Adam. Carla had been more than sympathetic. In fact, she had been almost gleeful.
“I hated the guy from the moment I saw him. Did he hurt you?”
That was the tricky part. Adam had slapped her, which was technically a simple assault and considered a misdemeanor in most states. But did she want to press charges and go through the process of a trial for something she’d taken care of on her own?
She didn’t, so she hedged around the question. “You might be asking Adam that very question tomorrow. He has a bruised nose and maybe a black eye, minimum.”
Carla had growled low in her throat. “Too bad there isn’t a law for being an asshole, but I’ll make sure he leaves you alone.”
Autumn had felt terrible. After all, the sheriff had much bigger things to deal with than her altercation with her boss.
It really was no wonder why women didn’t press charges as often as they should. There were simply too many legal loopholes to jump through, especially when you had the knowledge that the guy would probably get off with no more than a slap on his little finger.
There was so much wrong with society today. And Autumn had neither the time nor desire to tackle those things right now. She had a killer on the loose.
That’s where her focus would be.
She climbed the stairs to the second floor, where the conference room was. Before she could even reach the door, however, Adam was waiting for her—at the top of the stairs.
“We need to talk.”
He hadn’t shaved and he was wearing the same clothes as the day before. He had dark circles under his eyes, and he looked like he hadn’t slept. And, yes, there was a bruise on the bridge of his nose.
Was he truly sorry? Or was he playing for pity?
She didn’t know, and she really didn’t care.
She had a job to do.
“No, we don’t. Right now, I’m going to get to work, and I suggest you do the same.”
When he didn’t move, she pushed past him. He didn’t quite drop his hands over his crotch, but he did flinch.
For a man who was bigger than she was, he certainly seemed to have shrunk. She went to the conference room, and a few seconds later, Adam was right behind her.
Rich Brower was out of his chair in a flash. “Sheriff Morton has another office set aside for you today, Latham.”
Adam tried to push past him. “I just need to talk to—”
Rich took half a step back to strengthen his stance and put the flat of one hand on Adam’s chest. “You’re in a building full of people itching for a fight, Latham. Do what you’re told.”
“But—”
“Your new office is right across the hall. We’ll call you in if we need you. Your assignment is to use that big brain of yours to assess where our killer is hiding. Carla printed out a stack of property documents to review.”
Adam lifted his chin. “What am I looking for?”
“You’re the genius psychologist. You tell me. Based on our suspect’s profile, what kind of place is he holing up? A resort hotel with a free day spa?”
“In this area, I would imagine he would use a cabin,” Adam said, taking a step back. “An…abandoned cabin. That either his family owned or that they might have rented in the past. No neighbors nearby.”
Rich lowered his hand but didn’t step out of the way. “That’s a good start. Now, see if you can nail that down.”
Face burning red with anger and embarrassment, he turned and walked away. A second later, an office door closed with a soft click.
Autumn closed her eyes, needing a moment to recover. When she had spoken to Carla last evening, she’d mentioned the need for them to search property records. She was glad that the sheriff had taken the recommendation seriously.
Rich cleared his throat. “You okay?”
She forced a smile and set her bag on the table before meeting his gaze. “Of course. I’m sorry for my personal drama, and I promise that it won’t interfere with our search for Gina. You have my word on that.”
“I believe you.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I just know the statistics when it comes to a missing person.”
Autumn knew those statistics too. The first seventy-two hours were the most critical to the recovery process. After that, there were fewer and fewer breadcrumbs to follow. Gina had been missing for seven days. It wasn’t impossible, but the chances of finding her alive were growing slimmer by the minute.
And with the madman on the loose, the chances of two more bodies showing up was growing.
Sheriff Morton stepped into the doorway of the conference room. She gave Autumn a little salute. “Let’s get down to business.”
Autumn pulled out her iPad, happy to do just that. “I worked on the profile last night, and I feel—”
There was a commotion at the door. Autumn turned and was thrilled to see two friendly faces looking back at her.
She leapt to her feet. “Perfect timing.”
After ma
king the appropriate introductions, Mike Shadley glanced around the room. “Where can I find my partner.”
Sheriff Morton stepped in. “Follow me. He’s just down the hall.”
Mike nodded at Autumn, giving her an encouraging smile. “I’ll leave you all to it for now. You can catch me up later.”
When the sheriff returned, and the conference door closed behind her, Winter shook her hand. “I’m so sorry for what you and your town are going through. I’m committed to helping however you need.”
Carla looked terrible. Her pale face only highlighted the dark circles under her eyes. Autumn knew how hard the sheriff was taking these tragedies. This was her town. Her people. At the end of the day, Winter and Autumn would head back to Virginia. Carla and Rich would still be here, looking their neighbors in the eye and picking up the pieces.
“Thank you, Agent Black.”
“Winter. Please call me Winter.”
Carla looked between the two of them. “Autumn and Winter, huh? You just need a Spring and Summer and you’d have the whole year covered.”
Winter smiled. “We’re actually recruiting by seasonal names right now.” Then she turned her attention on the mayor slash deputy. “I’m so very sorry, Mayor Brower, about your sister and your niece. You have my sympathy and my commitment to help any way I can.”
Rich Brower bowed his head, and Autumn felt sure the man was finally going to cry. But he rallied, and with a shake of his head, he returned to his seat. “I appreciate you being here. Let’s get to work.”
So, they did, although the temperature in the room seemed to chill.
Poor Gina.
They still had no idea what had happened—or what was happening—to her.
They spent several minutes catching Winter up on the case, then added the photographs of the Rose family crime scene to a wall of portraits no family deserved to be displayed on.
“The crime tech boys got a good model of the tire tracks before the rain hit, so if they belong to our suspect, we finally have a clue to work on.”
It wasn’t much, but it was something more than they had.
“What type of vehicle does Kyle Murphy drive?” Winter asked.
Carla didn’t even have to look through her notes. “He has a 2001 Jeep Cherokee registered in his name.” She slid a picture of the Jeep in Winter’s direction.
