by Virna DePaul
Since she wasn’t supposed to meet with Stevens for another two hours, Carrie frowned. “Did he say why?”
“Just that it had to do with the serial-killer case you’re working.”
She turned to look at Jase. “But why—” Confusion melded into a dreadful suspicion, one reinforced by his guilty expression. Standing, she sucked in an enraged breath as betrayal swept through her. “Did you go running to Stevens about me? Did you tell him your little theory that I don’t deserve this case?”
Jase’s mouth tightened. “I never said you didn’t deserve it, Carrie. And I didn’t come in to talk to Stevens. He came to me, asking whether I saw any problem with you working the case on your own. And I gave him my honest answer. That I did.”
“I can’t believe I trusted you,” she whispered. “I should have known better.”
“This isn’t a matter of wanting the case for myself, Carrie. But from what I saw outside McGill’s last night—”
The crack of her palm against his cheek echoed wildly in the room. Everything went quiet.
“Hey, guys—” DeMarco began.
Jase held up his hand. “Keep out of this,” he gritted out.
“Yes, DeMarco,” Carrie said. “Keep out of this. It’s between me and this lying, slimy worm who stabbed me in the back. What, I didn’t take you up on your offer for a roll in the sack, so you interfere with my career?”
“This has nothing to do with you having sex with me, Carrie. The job never will. When it happens, it’s going to be because you want it just as much as I do.” He whispered the final words, obviously not wanting DeMarco to hear.
She didn’t have such compunction. “Read my lips,” she said loudly. “The day I sleep with you, Tyler, is the day I quit the force because I know for sure I’ve lost my mind. Until then, keep your pop-psychology opinions to yourself and don’t you ever try to ‘help me out’ again. In fact, stay as far away from me possible, you got it? Next time, I won’t just slap you. I’ll show you that my faulty aim with Kevin Porter was a complete and utter fluke.”
“Oh, I have no doubt about that. After all, you’re an expert markswoman. A silver in the Olympics, right?”
Her eyes widened. “So what? I wasn’t hiding it. But what did you do? Go snooping through my things last night? Were you digging for information to relay to the commander? Sorry I couldn’t offer you something more damaging than my skills with a rifle.”
“Bullshit you weren’t hiding it. You’ve never had a problem tooting your own horn when it comes to your skills as a cop. So why didn’t you tell us you were an expert markswoman?”
“You’re deranged. The commander and Mac know. So does DeMarco.”
They both looked toward the man in question, who kept his gaze on his paperwork but nodded. “Yep, I knew, but keep me out of this, okay?”
Carrie turned back to Jase. “I don’t go around advertising my talents. Unlike you, I don’t need to flaunt what I’m good at. Too bad taking desperate women to bed is the only thing you’re good for.”
Jase shook his head. “Don’t go there, Carrie. Not after last night. Not after…” He paused, and she knew he’d barely stopped himself from mentioning their encounter downstairs. “Don’t play dirty.”
“Or what? You’ll play even dirtier than you already have? Bring it on, Jase. I dare you.”
He grabbed her by the arms for the second time that morning and jerked her forward. “You should think twice about that. Damn it, I’m not a saint, Carrie. One day you’re going to push me too far.”
She shoved away from him. “And one day, I’m going to be gone, Jase. I’m sick of having to prove myself to you. To the commander. To everyone.”
“This isn’t about having to prove yourself, damn it. If you’d just listen…”
“Go to hell,” she snapped. She twirled around and headed up the stairs that would lead to Stevens’s office.
* * *
HIS EXPRESSION GRIM, Jase turned to DeMarco, who was staring at him in amazement. Slowly, DeMarco shook his head and whistled.
“I didn’t rat her out to Stevens,” Jase said. “He asked me for my opinion. I told him. That’s all.”
DeMarco nodded. “I’m not questioning you, Jase. Just wondering how you’re going to get anything done if you have to watch your back every second. Ward isn’t just pissed, I’ve never seen her so incensed.”
“Yeah, incensed—as in emotional. Maybe even unstable. So what does that tell you?”
“It tells me things are going to be mighty interesting around here for a while.”
Interesting, Jase thought as he turned away. Hell, with that kiss downstairs, things had bypassed interesting and skyrocketed to extremely complicated in less time than it had taken for Carrie to press her succulent lips against his skin.
Why had she done it? Her actions had taken him so completely by surprise that he hadn’t stood a chance of controlling his instinctively primitive response. He’d forgotten they were at work, that he’d just been using exercise to physically exhaust himself so he’d be too tired to think of her for even one more second, and that she was going to be extremely pissed at him, and with good reason, once Stevens had a chance to meet with her. He hadn’t been able to form a rational thought except to kiss her and do any other damn thing she’d let him do to her body as soon as possible. And she’d wanted him to do plenty. She’d pressed her breasts against him as if they ached for his touch. Her mouth had opened willingly for the penetration of his tongue, and her own tongue had come out to play, as well. And her hands? Her hands had attached themselves to his ass with a demanding need that had practically blown his mind.
She’d done all that for the same reason that she’d kissed him. Out of sheer desire. But as soon as he’d pulled away and she’d had a chance to think again, to rein in her desire the way she always did, she’d done just that. Leaving him jittery and aching and plain fucking confused.
He wanted Carrie. He’d wanted her for a long time now.
He just didn’t know what to do about it anymore.
Because what he had been doing? Ignoring it? Taking his lead from her?
He wasn’t doing anymore.
CHAPTER NINE
CARRIE TOOK SOME TIME in the bathroom to get herself composed. By the time she walked into Commander Stevens’s office, she had things under control. She didn’t take the offensive. She didn’t start peppering him with questions or jump to defend herself. Doing so would only put her in a more vulnerable position. If Stevens had doubts about her competency, let him say them to her face. Then she’d handle them calmly and professionally, shooting down his concerns as if they were clay pigeons.
She and the commander made small talk for a while before someone knocked on his door. When Jase walked in, Carrie barely looked at him. He took the seat beside her. None of them said a word.
Stevens sighed. “Well, I can see this is going to be a whole lot of fun. Agent Ward, I want you to know that when Mac came to me with your request to lead up this serial-killer investigation, he did so with some hesitation.”
Carrie couldn’t disguise her surprise. Honestly, if she’d been alone, she’d have grasped for her chest because she felt like she’d been stabbed in the heart. All along, she’d thought Mac was supporting her, but that wasn’t true at all. “Agent McKenzie never said anything to me about having any reservations,” she finally said.
“That’s because he didn’t feel his concerns warranted keeping you off the case.”
“I’m afraid I’m not following, sir.”
“I know. I’m going to be completely honest with you. Even though it might leave me and this whole department open to yet another lawsuit.”
Another lawsuit? Carrie thought. What did the commander—?
“Mac admitted he had reservations about assigning you The Embalmer case,” the commander continued, his unexpected words displacing all other thoughts from Carrie’s mind. “But he also couldn’t say with certainty that he’d have the s
ame concerns if you were a man that had been on leave for a month and requested this assignment. That troubled him. It troubled both of us. You’ve worked hard here at SIG. You have an impressive case-closure record. The best in the department, in fact. You’ve earned the right to prove yourself with something more challenging.”
“I agree with you,” Carrie said slowly, then looked at Jase. But he didn’t look at her, and he remained silent. “Then why am I here, sir? With Agent Tyler?”
“Two reasons. First, you’ve never worked a serial case before. There will be plenty of people wanting to take you down a peg or two, including Martha Porter.”
“The old lady who…”
Carrie glared at Jase, who stopped talking midsentence. “What does Kevin Porter’s grandmother have to do with this, sir?”
“She’s filed a wrongful death suit against the state. It’s nothing I’m worried about, necessarily, but it won’t hurt to have a more experienced agent work The Embalmer case with you.”
She stiffened, her mouth tightening. “What you really mean is that if Martha Porter’s claims of incompetence against me prevail, the state will have a defense against future allegations that The Embalmer case was mishandled, too. Because a more senior detective would have supervised my every move. Isn’t that right?”
Stevens didn’t even flinch. “Let me worry about the politics of the job, Ward. Just know that if I didn’t believe in you, you wouldn’t be going anywhere near The Embalmer case, partner or not.”
Staring at him, she could see he was being honest. Her shoulders relaxed slightly. “Assuming that’s going to be Agent Tyler, then which one of us is going to take the lead? Because I was under the impression it was going to be me. Has that changed?”
“Not necessarily. Earlier, I asked Agent Tyler his opinion about whether you should work this case as the lead. He, too, expressed doubt. But he, too, confessed he couldn’t say with one hundred percent certainty that his doubt wasn’t the result of the fact you are a woman, and one he cares for on a personal level to boot.”
Carrie’s eyes rounded. It took everything she had not to glance at Jase again and to just listen to what the commander was saying.
“The problem is, Agent Ward, as enlightened as we all want to believe ourselves, you are the only female on this team and we are naturally protective of you. But I can’t let that stop me from giving you what you need in terms of your career. So I’m not going to. You’ll continue to be the lead agent on this case. For now.”
“For now?” Carrie automatically bristled. “Does that mean you’re simply waiting for me to fail? And let me guess. Agent Tyler here will be waiting in the wings to take over?”
Commander Stevens held up his hand. “Hear me out. As I already said, I want Jase to team up with you on this case. It’s a complicated one.”
“It was complicated two days ago and you never said anything about having me work with Agent Tyler. I anticipated having a partner, of course, but I don’t need to be babysat.”
“No, but Jase has worked several serial cases before. And he told me you’ve already discussed several theories about the case with him. Is that right?”
She gritted her teeth. It was her own fault for accepting his help, she thought. “Yes. But this serial killer is a slow-moving one. I have all kinds of notes prepared for our meeting later today—”
“He was slow-moving. That might not be the case any longer. As such, things have just changed.”
“Sir?” she asked. Both she and Jase straightened and leaned forward in their chairs.
“We’ve just gotten word of another possible victim in the case.”
“Another—?” Carrie couldn’t help looking at Jase now. He looked as surprised as she felt. “But it’s only been three days since SFPD discovered Cheryl Anderson’s remains. Most serial killers wait months before striking again, and that’s certainly been The Embalmer’s M.O.”
“I’m not certain this latest murder was actually committed by The Embalmer. That’s going to be one of the things you’ll be focusing on. Both of you. You’ll have the lead for now, Agent Ward, but if it turns out we’re dealing with a copycat, it becomes a whole different ball game. There’s no way we have the manpower to handle a serial killer and a copycat. And if it’s a copycat, he won’t be satisfied with just one victim. More will surely follow. I won’t have any choice but to call in the FBI. They’ll have jurisdiction on The Embalmer case, leaving you and Jase free to work the second case. That is, if you’re willing to abide by my orders. Otherwise, I’ll put Tyler on the case with another officer assisting right now.”
“I understand why things will change in the event of a copycat. I can take the lead, sir. And I can accept the FBI stepping in if that turns out to be necessary.”
“Good. SFPD got a 911 call an hour ago from some hikers over at the Marin County Water Preserve. The hikers found a mutilated female. Patrol officers have secured the area and are waiting for you to examine the body.”
“So there’s actually a body this time, not just photos? Was the body embalmed?”
“I don’t know that. But the body was eviscerated. Mutilated.”
“If we don’t know whether the victim was embalmed, how are you linking this victim with The Embalmer’s victims?”
Stevens sighed and swiped his palms over his face. For the first time, he looked truly troubled. As if he really questioned their ability to catch a killer. “Upon being interviewed by the patrol officer, one of the witnesses said he found a woman’s head. One whose eyelids had been cut off.”
CHAPTER TEN
STANDING IN FRONT of his bathroom sink, Brad washed his hands. Unlike last night, the water ran clear, but his imagination filled in the color that was now missing. The woman’s blood and his shaking hands had combined with the water to create ribbons of pink liquid and splashes of crimson against the dingy white bowl.
The woman…
As soon as he’d killed her, he’d been flooded by a sensation so foreign he almost didn’t recognize it.
Power.
And pleasure.
Emotional and physical. So much so that he’d barely had to touch himself before he’d had the most powerful orgasm of his life.
Hours had passed. Hours to dispose of her body. Smartly. Fastidiously.
Dramatically.
But the rush of power still ran gloriously through his veins. Raising a steady hand, he ran his fingers over his neck and face, feeling the cobbled texture underneath the dark purple stains. Still there, but definitely better.
He’d done that. Simply by killing her. A prostitute. A whore.
He’d made her see his power. His strength.
His beauty.
And he had Dr. Bowers to thank for it. After all the bumbling and unsuccessful treatments he’d put Brad through, Bowers had finally earned his salary by leading Brad onto the right path.
No amount of power the other man had experienced as a doctor, even one with the ability to save others’ lives, could compare to the feeling of so ruthlessly ending one. It was a heady rush unlike any other. One that couldn’t be duplicated by alcohol or drugs, and God knew Brad had tried both at various points in his life to numb his pain.
He’d always felt slightly foolish afterward. Guilty. As if he’d been weak to rely on a foreign substance rather than his inner strength.
But what he was feeling now was all him. Nothing artificial. Nothing meant to stifle or disguise, but rather expose. Clarify. Magnify.
It wasn’t the violence or actual killing responsible for the change in him. He’d killed animals when he was a kid. Raped that one girl two states away before he’d graduated high school. And last year, he’d killed a girl. Not on purpose. By accident. After she’d laughed at him. Mocked him. But those acts hadn’t made him feel like this. Because he hadn’t been focused. Hadn’t realized the extent of his power and what he could gain from it.
It was selecting the right victim for the right reason that was the key
.
The one last night had simply been a small taste of what he could have.
Just imagine what he could accomplish if he actually killed someone who mattered.
Maybe then Nora would notice him. Maybe then she’d desire him. Maybe then she’d finally see him for who he truly was. Imperfect by birth but not by will.
I’ll prove myself worthy of her. Prove I can change.
For her.
His angel.
* * *
CARRIE NAVIGATED her government car around a skeletal-like screen of trees surrounded by the tall marsh grasses of the Marin County Reservoir. Pulling to a stop next to a county ambulance, an old pickup truck and a city squad car, she noted the vehicles were positioned just fifty feet from the concrete pillars of the causeway. Traffic whizzed steadily above her as commuters rushed to get home, oblivious to the fact that a woman’s body parts lay strewn beneath them.
Uniformed officers identified by dispatch as Tracy Fitzpatrick and John Gordon approached as she opened the door. The unusually warm weather immediately prickled Carrie’s skin, rushing into the car and clinging to her before she completely exited it. Her feet sank a little into the damp dirt.
The paramedics talked to a heavyset man and a teenage boy, presumably the two hikers who’d found the body. Carrie turned to Gordon, the senior officer. Gordon had kinky black hair and weighed about three hundred pounds, a perfect foil to his young partner who probably didn’t weigh one hundred pounds sopping wet. “Was one of the witnesses hurt?”
Gordon shook his head. “Precautionary measures. Special Agent Tyler called. His ETA is about five minutes.”
Carrie nodded, keeping her face blank even though her stomach tightened. When they’d been talking to Commander Stevens, Carrie had clung to her self-control by a thread. She was still reeling from the knowledge that Jase had talked about her with the commander, not to mention the escalation of murders in this case.
Once Stevens had given her the pertinent information on the latest call, Carrie had gotten ready to go. To her surprise, Jase had said he had other things to discuss with the commander. She’d known those things would have something to do with her. With the case. And she hadn’t liked it. But she’d simply said, “See you at the scene,” and left. As soon as she’d closed the door, she’d heard him arguing with Stevens. Jase’s words still echoed around her.
