by Cynthia Eden
Not quite.
Flynn was glowering at her office door.
“Thank you, Mark,” she murmured. “I’ll handle Aaron.” But first, she’d have to handle Flynn.
Mark hurried back to his desk. Flynn merely lifted a brow. “I’m going in with you.”
“Flynn, seriously, think for a moment.” Her voice was a whisper that only carried to him. “Do you really want the FBI to get a look at you? The FBI? You’re a dead man.” She’d tried to get him to leave D.C., weeks ago, but he’d refused. He’d said he had to stick close because of Bryce.
Sawyer had stayed in the area for the same reason. But the two men were supposed to be keeping low profiles in the city. And marching in for a chat with an FBI agent wasn’t the way to maintain a low profile.
“Stay out here,” she urged him. As close as they stood to one another, it probably looked as if they were having an intimate chat. “We both know you’ll be able to hear every word said in that room, anyway.” If he could hear her heartbeat, she knew he could hear through a thin wall.
His jaw locked, but Flynn nodded. “Fine. But if something happens in there that I don’t like, I’m coming in.”
Cecelia rolled her eyes. “Seriously, what could happen?” She motioned to the small waiting area. “Just stay there.” Then she smoothed her hand over her skirt and straightened her top.
Flynn gave a little growl. “You look fucking perfect. You don’t need to fix anything.” A pause. “Ever.”
Her breath caught. That was nice. “Thank you.”
He gave a jerky nod. “Still don’t like this shit.”
Yes, that was apparent. Her chin lifted as she strode away from him, making sure her steps were confident, making sure that she looked as if she were completely in control and ready to face any challenge. She’d learned—early on—that appearances were everything. Wear the right mask, and no one knew just how close to breaking apart you truly were.
Cecelia swung open her office door. “Agent Barrett—”
He was standing in front of her window. He turned toward her, a quick smile on his lips.
Aaron Barrett. Six-foot-two, lean but muscled. He had close-cropped, black hair, and warm, brown eyes. He always wore suits, top of the line suits, and he always had his gun holstered at his hip.
“Cecelia.” He strode toward her, his arms outstretched. “It’s been too long.” He enfolded her in a quick hug. “I swear, for a while there, it seemed as if you’d fallen off the face of the earth.”
His touch was familiar. His scent was crisp, a light cologne. When he held her, she felt safe. Aaron had always made her feel safe.
She hugged him back a moment, then she pulled free. “I was just off doing some contract work for the government. You know how that is.”
One dark brow lifted. “I know you’re the best psychiatrist I’ve ever met, and the Bureau understands what an asset you are.”
“There are plenty of great psychiatrists in the Bureau.” She headed toward her desk and sat down in the chair, making sure her features were schooled into a pose of calm. “What’s going on? Not that I don’t enjoy seeing you, but…” Now Cecelia smiled. “I do understand that, with you, there is often an ulterior motive involved.”
He laughed. “You do know me…” His gaze seemed to heat. “Better than most.”
She tensed. Her gaze jerked to the door. She was way too conscious of the fact that Flynn could hear every single word. Nothing wrong was said. But the tension didn’t leave her shoulders.
“I think he’s back, Cecelia.”
Her heart jerked. “He?”
Aaron bent down to his briefcase and pulled out a manila file. “I don’t have to tell you that this is confidential.”
But that was exactly what he was telling her.
“My boss wanted me to reach out to you. We both want you to consult with the FBI again, particularly on this case.” He extended the file toward her. “The bastard is hunting again.”
She took the file. Opened it. Saw the photos of the young, dark-haired woman, half-dressed as she sprawled in a bed. The ligature marks on her neck were easy to spot.
“I think the Midnight Strangler is killing again,” Aaron told her, voice rough. “I think the perp is killing right here, in D.C.”
***
“I think the perp is killing right here, in D.C.”
Flynn gripped the arm rest beside him too tightly. This news was exactly what he’d feared. Every fucking sign was pointing to Bryce King being the Midnight Strangler. And the guy was fixated on Cecelia.
You won’t take her.
There was no way that Flynn could let Bryce get his hands on Cecelia again. Not going to happen.
His head turned, and Flynn stared at her office door. He could hear Cecelia and the FBI agent’s conversation as if he were standing right next to them.
“We’ve learned that his MO has changed a bit…” Aaron Barrett sighed. “The victim, Jennifer McKenzie, told her friend that she’d felt as if she were being watched. The victim called her friend, absolutely terrified four nights ago, because Jennifer thought someone was in the apartment with her.”
Fucking hell.
Flynn rose from his chair.
***
Cecelia glanced up from the photos. The victim was so young. “You’re saying the perp was stalking her?”
“I’m saying that with the previous crimes, we thought the Midnight Strangler charmed his victims. That he knew them socially and that they just opened the door to let him inside their homes.” He shook his head. “But if the guy was sneaking into Jennifer McKenzie’s place, then maybe he snuck into the homes of the other women, too.”
“There was never any sign of a break-in.” But maybe someone with Bryce’s particular skill set had known better than to leave any signs. For an Army Ranger, being covert was second nature…Think this through. Explore all options. “This perp in D.C. could be a copycat.” Yet even as she said the words, her stomach was twisting into knots.
“The guy did take the murder weapon with him.” Aaron rolled back his shoulders. “The Midnight Strangler used to leave the rope around the throats of his victims. There was no sign of the rope at Jennifer’s apartment.”
The knots in her stomach got bigger. “You’re telling me things that don’t fit the Midnight Strangler. Changing behavior is unusual for a predator like him.” She wet her lips. “Instead of telling me about the pieces that don’t fit, why do you think it’s him?”
A muscle jerked in his jaw. “Because there was evidence at the scene that tied this perp to the four previous kills.” He put his hands on the desk as he leaned toward her. “Jewelry. There was jewelry at Jennifer McKenzie’s place that belonged to the previous victims. A ring that came from Sarah Fox, a necklace that belonged to Julia Tanner, a watch that Jamie Laslow’s mother had given to her, and a pearl earring that was taken from Patience Shield.”
Cecelia remembered Patience…she’d been found wearing only one pearl earring—that had been the tip-off that the perp had been taking trophies from his victims. With that discovery, they’d gone back to the other victims. With the help of the victims’ families and friends, they’d discovered that jewelry had been taken from all of the Midnight Strangler’s victims, but that fact had never been revealed to the press. The killer had wanted trophies to remind him of the victims.
“As soon as I saw those pieces, spread out like gifts on Jennifer’s dresser, I knew he was back. I knew instantly what they were.”
She stared up at him.
“He’s here in D.C., Cecelia. The bastard left Georgia. He came here, he came to us.”
“Aaron…”
“And we’re going to stop him. I need you with me on this. I want you to come look at the crime scene. The bastard is taunting me, killing right in my face, and we are going to get him.”
She had to tell him about Bryce. “Aaron, there’s something—”
Her office door flew open. “Cece, what’s go
ing on?”
Aaron spun around, frowning.
Cecelia jumped to her feet. Flynn stood in the doorway, his shoulders pretty much filling the doorway. A faint smile was on his face, but his golden eyes were hard and cold. His stare was locked right on Aaron.
“Uh, we’re having a meeting.” Aaron’s posture immediately changed. Went tight with tension. “A private meeting. So if you’re here for an appointment with Dr. Gregory, then you need to wait—”
Flynn shut the door behind him and then he headed straight for Aaron. “I’m not here for an appointment, but I am here for Cecelia.” His head cocked as he studied the other man. “Agent Barrett, right? Cecelia has told me about you.”
He made it sound as if she’d shared all sorts of secrets.
Aaron frowned at Cecelia, but he offered his hand to Flynn. That was who Aaron was—the stand-up guy who always did the right thing. “You have me at a disadvantage. She hasn’t told me a damn bit about you.”
Flynn shook Aaron’s hand.
“Quite an, um, grip, you’ve got,” Aaron muttered.
Oh, jeez, Flynn had better not be using his enhanced strength in that handshake.
Flynn dropped his hold on Aaron.
“Didn’t catch your name,” Aaron said as he stretched his fingers.
“Flynn. Flynn H—”
“Hanley,” Cecelia blurted. What was the guy thinking? Flynn couldn’t give an FBI agent his real name.
Flynn turned his head toward Cecelia.
She hurried to him, far too afraid that he was about to blow things straight to hell with Aaron.
“If Cecelia has told you about me…” Now Aaron cocked his head. “You must be one of her associates. Another shrink, huh?”
“Hardly. And I’m not an associate. I’m her—”
OhGod. OhGod. What was he about to say?
“Bodyguard,” Flynn supplied easily. “Cecelia can’t talk about the nature of her recent work for the government, but let’s just say things got a bit dangerous at the end of her contract project.”
Aaron’s eyes widened.
“And in the interest of making certain that Cecelia remains safe, I’ve been assigned by the U.S. government to stay at her side.”
“To stay with her? For how long?”
Flynn shrugged. “For as long as necessary.”
Bodyguard. Okay. That was better than him claiming that she was his lover.
“So while you may want Cecelia to help the FBI, you need to understand a few things.” Now Flynn’s voice had turned flat and cold. “Wherever she goes, whatever investigation she does, I’ll be at her side.”
“Ah, that’s—that’s highly irregular.”
Flynn simply shrugged again. “Like I care.”
Aaron reached for Cecelia. His hands closed around her shoulders as he pulled her closer to him. “What kind of danger are you in?” Worry showed on his face. “And why didn’t you come to me? You know I can help you, I’ll always—”
“Yeah, okay, I’m gonna need you to take your hands off her.” Flynn’s voice, if anything, had grown colder. “And as far as what kind of danger she’s in, sorry, Agent Barrett, but you don’t have the classification to know.”
Aaron gaped at him. “Are you serious? I’m a Special Agent with the FBI! I have clearance to—”
“You don’t have clearance for this.”
Aaron was still holding Cecelia’s shoulders.
“Gonna need you to move those hands,” Flynn advised with a menacing note in his voice. “You’re touching the body I’m guarding.”
“What?” A deep furrow appeared between Aaron’s brows. “You’re not even making sense!”
No, he wasn’t. What Flynn was doing…he was acting jealous. And the last thing she needed was some jealous freak-out involving a super soldier and an FBI agent. Cecelia backed away from Aaron, forcing him to break his hold on her.
“Aaron…” She had to take control of the situation, right then. “I will absolutely help on this case.” In fact, there was no way she’d be shut out of the investigation. “I want to see the crime scene, I want to see the jewelry that was recovered—I want to see everything that you’ve got on the guy.”
Aaron nodded. “Right, I can take you to the scene now—”
“Take us to the scene,” Flynn corrected.
But Aaron’s chin jutted into the air. “Don’t know if you have clearance for that—”
The temperature in the room seemed to drop. And, as crazy as it sounded, Flynn actually appeared to get a little…bigger.
And his voice was even deeper than normal when he retorted, “This isn’t a pissing match. I’m telling you flat out, where Cecelia goes, I go. Her safety is my priority, and if you want her to investigate this case, you will get used to seeing me at her side.”
Aaron appeared to be choking. His face mottled in spots of red. “I’ll have to talk to my supervisor.”
“Then go talk to him. Cecelia and I will be here.” Flynn gave a hard smile. “Use the waiting room for your call. Plenty of space out there.”
Without another word, Aaron marched from the office. As soon as the door shut behind him, Cecelia grabbed for her phone.
“I don’t like him,” Flynn announced. “Too handsy—”
“We are about to be screwed,” she whispered as the phone rang in her ear. “He’s going to be checking your name right now. A name that isn’t real.”
“You’re the one who made up the last name,” he pointed out. “You didn’t—”
The phone stopped ringing. “Cecelia,” Jay Maverick said, voice warm. “What can I do for you? I mean, you did just leave my place, and—”
“Flynn Hanley,” she rushed out. “The FBI is about to do a search on Flynn Hanley, and I need that search to not make FBI Special Agent Aaron Barrett flip out.”
She could hear the fast tap of fingers on a keyboard. “Why would your ex-lover be flipping out?” Jay asked.
“Because there isn’t going to be a Flynn Hanley!” Obviously. Shit! “Flynn almost gave Aaron his real name—”
A long sigh filled her ear. “I did give the man a new identity already. He should use it, or else we’ll all be in trouble.”
“From here on out, he’s Flynn Hanley.” At least, he was to the FBI. “And Aaron is contacting his boss right now because Flynn announced he was my bodyguard. Said that I couldn’t go anywhere without him.”
More tapping on the keyboard. “Probably wise, considering what’s going on,” Jay noted.
It hadn’t been wise. It had been close to a clusterfuck.
“And just how did you two find Special Agent Barrett?” Jay wanted to know. “Did you run straight to him when you left my house?”
Her head turned and she found Flynn staring straight at her. “He came to me, all right? Aaron was waiting in my office, and he had news.”
“About the Midnight Strangler?”
“Yes,” she hissed. “But I don’t have time to talk about this now. Aaron is in my waiting room, talking to his boss about Flynn Hanley. I need a plan. I need help. I need—”
“It’s already done. You’re welcome.”
She blinked. “What?”
“Flynn Hanley will check out. Even will have a picture in the database that matches your super soldier. And, again, you’re welcome.”
“You are not that good.” She didn’t want to hope.
“I’m better. Now go talk to the special agent and brief me later.” He hung up.
She stood there, gripping her phone far too tightly.
“You worry too much.” Flynn sat on the edge of her desk, looking completely relaxed, but his golden gaze was focused straight on her. “Jay had created multiple identities for me, so all he probably had to do was switch the last name for one of those identities to Hanley. And we both know he’s hacked into the government databases plenty of times.”
She swallowed. “You heard everything we said on the call.”
One brow rose. “Jus
t like I heard every word you and the special agent said in here.” His lips thinned. “You fucked him?”
Her cheeks flamed as she marched closer to him. “Tact. We have got to work on tact. Social skills. Getting you to be normal.”
“I won’t ever be normal. And you didn’t answer my question.” His hand lifted, and the back of his knuckles slid over her cheek. “Or is that what this flush is about?”
“I was involved with Aaron before, yes, and we established that back at Jay’s place.” Her hands were on her hips.
“Why did you fuck him…but not me?”
This wasn’t happening. “I’m not answering that question.”
“Because he’s normal?” His hand dropped. “And I’m not? I’ve told you before, I’ll be careful with you. You don’t have anything to fear from me.”
“We can’t talk about this right now. Aaron will be coming back inside any moment. Then we have to focus on the case he has for us. The victim. I need you at that crime scene with me because your senses are so sharp. You might pick up on something that the FBI missed. Or, hell, maybe there is something there that Bryce left for us. For you. By putting that rope under my car, he set a chain of events into motion.”
“A chain of events that will end when he’s dead.”
Or when I am.
“Because that’s how this scenario ends. The only way.” His gaze promised her that. “It ends with Bryce dead, and not with your ex-lover taking him into custody. I can’t let that happen. I won’t.”
She stared into his eyes. Their bodies were so close.
“The special agent is about to open the door,” Flynn murmured.
“You’ll check out. Jay was sure of it.” She backed away from him.
The office door creaked open.
Flynn’s hand flew out and snagged hers. His hand was so much bigger and stronger than hers, but he held her carefully.
And, she knew, deliberately.
Because Aaron was back, and he now had a perfect view of her holding hands with Flynn.
“My boss said he checked out,” Aaron announced flatly. “And we have a fresh crime scene, so if your schedule is clear, Cecelia, we need to get the hell moving.”
Her schedule was clear.
She nodded briskly.
