by Burton, Mary
“Brooke might have recalled something. She wants to talk to me.”
“I’ll come with you.”
She held up her hand, pressing gently against his chest. “She said she wanted to see me alone. I’ll see what it’s about and text you.”
He looked past her toward the lobby, scanning for any threat. “See you in a few.”
She took the elevator back up to the third floor. As she stepped off, she walked past the nurses’ station toward Bennett’s room. In the distance, she spotted Matt stepping into the hallway. He looked up at her, his expression troubled as he rubbed his eyes. Even from this distance, she could see he had been crying.
Her attention on the boy, she didn’t notice the man in scrubs who quickly came up beside her. In one instant, he bodychecked her into an empty room.
She stumbled and quickly righted herself as she reached for her weapon. But a man’s right hook connected squarely with her jaw and dropped her to her knees.
Pain exploded in her head. When her injured knee hit the tiled floor, more agony rocketed through her body and took her breath away. Rough hands jerked her weapon from its holster and sent it sliding under a bed and out of her reach.
Macy struggled to take several short, quick breaths and draw air into her lungs. He flipped her on her back and buried his knee into her chest. Only then did he wrap his hands around her throat and begin to choke her.
Her attacker wasn’t hiding behind a mask this time. She was looking into Kevin Wyatt’s eyes.
Pure hate exuded from him. He didn’t even look human. “You think you are so smart. You think you are better than me.”
Macy dug her fingers into his hands as he tightened his hold around her neck.
“Who’s the weak one now?” His breath hissed warm against her cheek.
She clawed at his fingers and tried to pry them open. Adrenaline jolted her heart, and it raced faster, burning through the oxygen reserves in her lungs.
“One, two, three . . .”
His eyes darkened with a savage lust as her efforts to break his hold failed. She arched her back and kicked her feet, hoping the noise might catch someone’s attention.
“Six, seven, eight,” he whispered.
There was no breath left to pull into her burning lungs. Her heart rammed into her chest and her head spun out of control. It felt like it had in the ambulance in Texas just before she coded.
She blinked, felt her eyes strain, and imagined capillaries bursting. She’d always feared dying in a hospital but never thought it would be like this. She fought to stay conscious.
The room’s door opened. She shifted her gaze to the sight of worn athletic shoes. Her pulse thumped in her throat. She struggled to scream.
“Nine, ten, eleven,” he said.
A boy’s cry for help echoed in the room as the athletic shoes raced toward her. Someone jumped on Kevin’s back.
“Get off of her! Get off!” For a moment, Kevin’s grip loosened, and she pulled in a breath. She realized her rescuer was Matt.
Kevin knocked the boy off his back with such force he crashed hard against the wall. The boy blinked as he tried to stagger to his feet but then fell backward.
Kevin refocused on Macy and retightened his grip. “You’re going to die now, bitch.”
When Nevada had dropped Macy off at the Kansas City airport last spring, Macy had smiled. She’d looked cocky and self-assured as she had passed through security and vanished around a corner. He’d had a bad feeling that day, but had brushed it off. Weeks later she’d nearly been killed in Texas.
When she had disappeared into the hospital moments ago, the same feeling had tightened in the pit of his stomach.
He had ignored the sensation once, but he wouldn’t do it twice. He jogged toward the elevator and caught it right before the door shut. He checked his watch as the elevator opened at the second floor and a doctor stepped into the car. He was less than two minutes behind her. He punched the third-floor button several times until the doors closed. “Come on. Come on.”
Macy had wanted to prove she was still the agent she’d been. She had never liked receiving help from anyone. He understood that drive. And when Ramsey had called with the idea of sending her to Deep Run, he’d jumped at the chance to give her this case. She was smart and savvy. This case had her written all over it. He also knew the cases she would have to chase would keep her away from him fifty weeks out of the year.
Screw it. He had her back whether she liked it or not.
As the elevator doors opened to the third floor, he heard a young boy’s scream. Drawing his weapon, he moved down the hallway, looking in the open rooms for signs of trouble. When the boy yelled for help a second time, he identified the room and pushed through the door. He barely registered seeing Matt struggling to get up. His focus was on the man strangling an unconscious Macy.
As much as Nevada wanted to shoot him, he knew the bullet could easily pass through and hit Macy. He holstered his weapon and in one fluid movement, slid his arm around the killer’s neck. Nevada placed his other hand behind the man’s head and squeezed until the carotid artery closed. The man fought him, trying to reach back and hit him, but Nevada held steady. The man’s thrashing slowed and then stopped.
Nevada saw Matt’s bloody lip and Macy’s swollen face and bruised neck. “Matt,” he said. “Get a doctor.”
The boy blinked and rose. “Okay.”
Nevada loosened his hold as he reached for his cuffs but as he did, Kevin’s eyes opened and his body tensed. Kevin reached back for Nevada’s gun. Nevada reacted instantly, retightening his grip, compressing with maximum pressure. The sounds of alarms in the hallway and nurses calling for supplies drifted in the distance as Kevin strained to get his gun until, finally, his fingers dropped to his side. Nevada reached for his cuffs, secured Kevin’s now-limp arms behind his back.
He shifted his attention to Macy, who lay curled on the floor. Her face was pale and her lips blue.
“Macy!” he shouted as he rolled her on her back.
She didn’t respond. He pressed fingertips to her red and scratched throat. There was no pulse, and she wasn’t breathing.
“Hold on for me, Macy,” he said. He could not lose her again. He would not.
As two nurses and a doctor burst into the room, Nevada tipped Macy’s head back, cleared her airway, pressed his mouth over hers, and breathed.
Macy was floating in the pool she had swum in with her father when she was five years old. On that clear day, she had ignored her father’s warning to wait, and she had jumped into the ice-cold water. The instant her head had slipped below the surface, she had kicked her legs, but instead of rising to the surface, she had sunk. She had realized then she’d made a terrible mistake. Sunlight had glistened on the water’s surface above her, and all she could do was watch it slip farther away as she had sunk.
Like then, her body was weightless now. The rigidity had dissipated from her muscles. Her knee didn’t ache. She wasn’t worried about being an agent. She felt good. At peace.
She’d been here before.
And just like before, she knew she didn’t belong here, no matter how serene it felt. She wanted to be back in the sunlight. She wanted to feel the sun on her face, the challenges of life’s struggles, and love.
A hand reached into the water, and if she wanted to live, she would have to fight hard to reach it. She thrashed her legs and arms, determined to rise on her own. As she wrestled her limbs upward, the distant sounds of alarms blaring and Nevada shouting her name greeted her.
Nevada. She wanted life. And she wanted Nevada in that life.
“Clear!”
A jolt of electricity rocketed through her body, snapping through sinew and bone and propelling her upward. She kicked harder and felt her fingers skim the edge of the water. Her heart faltered. Beat once. And then stopped.
“Clear!”
Another shock rocketed through her heart. It beat once. Then twice. And then a steady, calm r
hythm. A hand gripped her fingers and pulled her hard, yanking her into the light and the warm sun.
Macy sucked in a breath. Over and over she sucked air into her lungs, until she realized there were no more fingers wrapped around her throat. Her jaw ached and her ribs throbbed, but she was alive.
Nevada gripped her hand as he called her name again. “Macy! Look at me. Look at me.”
Bossy. He sounded so damn bossy.
The defibrillator’s high-pitched sound ramped up again, and she felt someone hovering beside her.
She pried open her eyes and was greeted by the blur of faces hovering over her. Her entire body ached, but she was so happy to be back. She angled her face toward Nevada. When she saw all the worry and relief colliding in his dark eyes, tears burned in her own.
The doctors prodded and poked her. A cold stethoscope pressed against her chest, and someone was thumping the vein in her right arm to start an IV line.
“Macy!”
“I’m back.” Her throat was raw and it hurt to talk. “Where’s Matt?”
“He’s fine. The doctors are with him.”
“He saved me,” she said.
“I know. The kid is amazing,” Nevada said.
The nurse again pressed a stethoscope to her chest and listened to the strong beat of her heart. “Do you know your name?”
“Macy Crow.” Her voice sounded rough and gritty.
“How many fingers am I holding up?” the nurse asked.
She squinted at the fingers inches from her face. “Three.”
A needle pricked her arm, and she felt the cool saline solution roll through the tube and into her vein.
“Let’s get her up,” a doctor shouted.
As she was hefted onto the padded gurney, her blouse lay open, her body exposed to everyone around her. There was nothing like coming back from the dead and then making an entrance.
Nevada shrugged off his jacket and covered her chest. She smiled up at him. As far as she was concerned, she could be in Grand Central Station with a parade of marines marching past.
She was alive.
And that was all that mattered.
EPILOGUE
Two Weeks Later
Macy stood in the living room of the house where Nevada and she had found Bennett. Forensic teams had collected hair, blood and fiber samples, and preliminary evidence that proved Beth Watson had been murdered here.
Crews were also searching the land outside the house. Kevin had coded at the hospital, and though the staff had tried to revive him, he’d died. His death left law enforcement with the task of piecing together his violent spree.
Bruce Shaw’s body had been the first to be discovered. Dumped in a ditch, it had been hastily covered with sticks and brush. The medical examiner had found a single gunshot wound to the head, which had matched Bennett’s testimony detailing the argument between Bruce Shaw and her attacker, as well as the sound of a gunshot.
Kevin and Bruce, as Ms. Beverly had said, were thick as thieves during their high school, college, and graduate school years. Kevin had saved Bruce from the trailer park, and from then on Bruce had been so grateful he’d have done anything for Kevin.
The casts of the tire impressions found at the park matched Kevin’s vehicle, and fingerprint evidence and handwriting analysis proved that Kevin Wyatt was the author of all the notebooks found in the house. Based on the meticulous notes in the journals, police suspected Kevin had stalked nearly one hundred women. The journals provided extensive details on each woman, including work patterns, recreational activities, friends, and lovers. Kevin’s financial records and old credit card receipts proved he had purchased gas in Baltimore and Atlanta on the same days women had disappeared there. Macy suspected he had murdered the women while visiting Bruce, and Bruce had helped him transport some of the bodies out to the country, where they could be buried in secret near the house.
The forensic teams had excavated the front section of the field and made several disturbing discoveries, including the remains of six women. The bodies, all in varying stages of decay, were transported to the medical center in Roanoke. The medical examiner’s office had matched three sets of remains to missing persons cases in Montgomery County, Maryland.
Currently, law enforcement was trying to match the trinkets displayed in Kevin’s trophy room to the women he had stalked. Why some women were left alone, others raped, and still others killed remained a mystery.
So far, there’d been no sign of Cindy Shaw or any evidence indicating what had happened to her.
Macy now believed Kevin had seen her broadcast, had become enraged, and had summoned Bruce, who had been the one person who knew his dark secret. Kevin had had one more body that needed burying, but as Bennett had testified, they’d argued. Bruce hadn’t wanted any part of killing a cop. Kevin had decided Bruce’s days of being useful were over and had shot and killed him.
Macy was able to piece together the motivation behind Kevin’s need to kill. Apparently, Kevin had struggled to maintain his control and cool not only on the football field but also in school and in the corporate world. Whenever he suffered a setback or felt powerless, he stalked, raped, and then finally murdered.
According to the journals, days before Tobi had vanished, Kevin had suffered a knee injury. The Dream Team’s last and most important game had been days away, and there had been so much at stake. Not only had the pride of the town rested on Kevin’s shoulders, but his teammates had also needed the professional scouts at the game to see them all play well and win. He had been incredibly stressed about letting his team down.
Cindy, still trying to gain Kevin’s favor, had delivered Tobi to him. Kevin had taken Tobi to the barn. He had not intended to kill her but had noted in his journal that the asphyxiation game he’d enjoyed so much had unexpectedly turned to murder.
Panicked, Kevin had dropped Tobi’s backpack and body down the chute. His plan had been to bury both in this field. But they had gotten stuck, and he had lost his nerve. Police suspected he had called Bruce and told him what had happened. It had been Bruce who had told him to leave the body where it was.
The following week, when the entire town had been looking for Tobi, both boys had joined the search crew, and both had been conveniently assigned to the Wyatt barn so that they could report back they’d found nothing.
However, Tobi’s disappearance had scared Cindy, and she had gone to Greene to tell him about Tobi and Kevin. Greene had thought the girl’s drug use had addled her brain, so he had called Bruce and told him to get control of his sister. Bruce had confided in Kevin, and when Kevin had realized his accomplice was now a problem, he’d followed Bruce and Cindy to the bus station. After Bruce had left his sister at the station, Kevin had lured her away and killed her.
Nevada had interviewed Kevin Wyatt’s mother, Vivian, and she had appeared shocked and stunned as she listened to the details of her son’s crimes. Vivian had known nothing about the Deep Run country house or the graves. She had lawyered up quickly, agreed to be available at their request, but had packed up Tyler and left for Richmond.
When Macy and Nevada went to talk to Greene again, he’d not answered his front door, though his car had been in the driveway. Nevada had gone around back and found the former lawman sitting with his back to an old oak tree. He’d shot himself in the head. In his hand was a note that read, simply, “I’m sorry.”
Evidence suggested Greene had protected the Dream Team from both rape and murder, and once his cover-up had been discovered, the prospect of going to prison had been untenable to him. Brooke and Matt Bennett were standing their ground and staying in Deep Run. DNA had confirmed that Kevin Wyatt was Matt’s biological father. Bennett had always worked hard to shield her son from the truth, but now that it was out, she was trying to help him deal with it.
It was one thing to learn a hard truth like that in your thirties but quite another as a teenager. Macy had shared her own story with Matt and Bennett and had offered to talk anytime eithe
r needed it.
Macy’s phone rang. “Agent Crow.”
“You’re now up to forty-one cases. Congratulations,” Ramsey said.
Macy had remained in Deep Run the last week coordinating the case details, but had supplied Ramsey with daily updates. “Thanks.”
“I send you down to crack one case, and you come back with a bushel of them.”
“I had a lot of help.”
His laughter rumbled through the line. “I’m going to need you back here by Monday. We need to do another face-to-face debrief with the team.”
The team. “Does that mean I’m officially a part of the team?”
“Do you still want it?” Ramsey asked.
Getting back into the game had been all she’d wanted. But dying a second time had shifted priorities. She had been living at Nevada’s house this past week and had discovered she didn’t crave the big-city hustle or need to chase criminals. Some of her most peaceful and beautiful moments had been spent alone with him.
But could she live out here full time and walk away from the game? Could she turn down her ticket to the big leagues? She wasn’t so sure.
“The answer would have been a slam dunk two weeks ago,” she said.
“And now?”
“We’ll get into the details when I return to Quantico.”
“Fair enough.” His chair squeaked, and she imagined him staring out the window in his office. “Hell of a job, Crow.”
It was high praise from a man notorious for giving out few compliments.
As much as she wanted to revel in Ramsey’s praise, she couldn’t quite call this a victory until she knew what had happened to Cindy Shaw.
The rumble of tires drew her attention outside. Nevada parked, and as she stepped outside, he spotted her and strode toward her with a determined gait that still made her heart beat a little faster.
Because they were on the job, he didn’t wrap his arm around her, but stood close enough so she could feel his heat and energy. “They’re going to start excavating the back field today.”
“Hopefully, Cindy’s there,” she said.
