by Katee Robert
“Don’t worry, Young. I’ve got my charming face on.” Tucker smiled, and all the hardness disappeared from his blue eyes. It was a skill he’d possessed ever since Dante had known him, and it was a useful one, especially when it came to dealing with witnesses. They wanted to be comforted, and while Dante could usually soothe rattled nerves, when Tucker walked into the room, it was like standing in the middle of a summer day. He chased away the shadows, and people cleaved to him in waves.
He’d have made a killing as a celebrity or an evangelical minister.
Or a cult leader.
Dante parked the car and turned off the engine. “Let’s go.”
Ten minutes later, they were seated on an uncomfortable single bed opposite the two girls. Lacy Sanderson and Theresa Miller could have been sisters. They shared medium-brown hair that faded to blonde at the ends, and they were both swallowed up by oversize sweaters—Lacy in blue and Theresa in gray. Most of all, they wore identical expressions of awe when they looked at Tucker.
Tucker leaned forward and propped his elbows on his thighs, letting his hands lace loosely between his knees. “We just have a few questions, and then we can let you ladies get back to what you were doing before we came. Can you tell us if any of the other girls in the house had boyfriends? Especially if they were new?”
Theresa shook her head. “We were too busy to date. Luna had a guy back in Nevada, but they’d known each other since they were in diapers. The other girls went to parties and sometimes hooked up with guys.”
“And girls,” Lacy muttered.
Theresa bobbed her head. “Sure, and girls. But no one was seeing anyone seriously.”
Tucker’s smile widened, inviting them to confide in him. “Come on now. You’re beautiful ladies, and your sisters were, too. You never dated?”
Lacy rolled her eyes. “You aren’t that familiar with sororities, are you? We organize half a dozen different events through the school year, have to keep GPAs above 3.0, and we volunteer on top of all that. We aren’t being dramatic when we say there literally wasn’t time to date.”
That made sense, especially if the unsub was a throwback to the first sorority murders. It also meant they needed to look at this from a different angle. Dante sat back. “What about teachers?”
Lacy frowned. “What about teachers?”
“Or not just teachers. Older guys. Any of them come sniffing around in the last couple weeks?”
Lacy shook her head, but Theresa frowned. “There was one guy. You remember him, Lacy. He was at the adoption fund-raiser, and he chatted up Jennifer. She made that joke about daddy issues.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she blanched. “God, I can’t believe she’s gone. They’re all gone. It doesn’t even seem real.”
Dante gave them a few seconds. “Can you describe the guy?”
“Sure. He was old.” She scrunched up her nose. “Not old old, but way too old to be hanging out at a college fund-raiser.”
Which could put him anywhere from thirty to sixty. “Okay, what else?”
“Dark hair.”
Lacy shook her head. “No, he was blond.”
“I think I’d know a blond if I saw him. Blond is my type—even if he was at least as old as you two.” Theresa shot them an apologetic look. “It’s not that I think you’re old. It’s just that . . .”
“Would you say he’s older than me or younger than me?”
She shrugged helplessly. “I’m terrible at guessing. Lacy?”
“Close to the same age?” She didn’t sound confident, though.
“Okay.” Anywhere from thirty to sixty, with either blond or dark hair. Dante repressed a sigh. Eyewitness testimony was notoriously questionable. People tended to see what they expected to see, and that colored their perception. “Any identifying features? Tattoos? Something noticeable?”
Lucy shook her head, but Theresa frowned. “He was wearing another college’s sweatshirt. A faded old hoodie that looked ancient.” She closed her eyes and frowned harder. “I know those colors. Blue and yellowy gold.” She snapped her fingers. “UCLA. He was wearing an old UCLA shirt.”
UCLA.
Where Berkley and Lei and Emma had attended. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Dante would bet good money that the unsub had picked that sweatshirt solely because college kids were more likely to focus on that than his face. Maybe it’s even his own sweatshirt if he went to school there around the same time as the original murders. “He talked to Jennifer. Did it go any further?”
Lucy shook her head. “I don’t think so. Jennifer was big into religion. She was saving herself for marriage, so she didn’t so much as hook up with guys at parties or anything like that. I don’t know what they talked about, but she went out with us after the fund-raiser and didn’t mention him.”
Dante had assumed hooking up meant sex, but apparently its definition was fluid. That was neither here nor there. Both girls looked exhausted, as if they’d run a marathon instead of been talking for fifteen minutes, so he nodded and stood. “I think that’s about it for now.”
Tucker’s smile brightened. “Thanks for taking the time to talk to us. If you think of anything else, give me a call.” He passed a card to both of them. “Have a good night, girls.”
They stayed silent as they walked through the halls and out to the parking lot. It was only when they had safely locked the doors and pulled out of the parking lot that Tucker spoke. “Smart move on his part with the sweatshirt.”
“Yeah, though it doesn’t tell us a whole lot.” Dante drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “We know he staked out the sorority beforehand. He was probably at other events leading up to the murders, but something about Jennifer made him approach her.”
“Didn’t get far, did he?”
“Doesn’t sound like it, but . . .” Dante shook his head. “If she was that vocal about waiting, she wouldn’t have told the other girls if she had done something. That said, it doesn’t sound like seduction is this guy’s thing. That was how Berkley figured out his way into the house.” Through Lei. “This one is sneakier. He’s a stalker—he likes to watch from afar. Take his time and plan everything out to the smallest detail before he acts. I bet he knew everything there was to know about those girls before he made contact.”
Tucker shifted, letting his head rest against the seat. “Does the Seattle PD have feet on the ground canvassing the neighborhood? I don’t care how good he is—someone had to have seen him if he was stalking these girls for any length of time.”
“They do, but if they found something, Smith hasn’t updated me yet.” The man’s resources were strapped, but even coming up with nothing was important—it meant the unsub had stalked them electronically, and that could be tracked. No matter what it seemed like now, this guy wasn’t a ghost, and he sure as fuck wasn’t perfect. He’d made a mistake somewhere along the line. They just had to find it. “You ready to talk to the original survivors?” To see Lei. To make sure she’s really okay.
“I think it’s about time for that.”
Dante looked askance at his friend, but Tucker didn’t meet his gaze. He turned back to the road. “You sound like you have something specific in mind.”
“Everyone’s been treating those women with kid gloves. I have a few questions for them that haven’t been covered yet. Now’s as good a time to ask them as any.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Four hours into Emma’s exhaustive list and Lei couldn’t handle it anymore. She rose without a word and marched up the stairs to change into her running clothes. She tossed on her holster, took the time to ensure her gun was loaded and the safety was on, and then tucked it back into the holster. Two minutes later she led Saul outside and sprinted for the tree line.
Selfish not to have told Emma where she was going.
Reckless not to have called Isaac first.
Stupid, selfish, reckless.
She didn’t care. All the checking in. The fear. Having her every movement tracked and que
stioned. She couldn’t handle it a second longer. Lei just needed some fucking space, and she’d deal with the consequences once she ran the restlessness out of her blood and made it back to the house. And if the killer comes after me? She touched the butt of her gun.
Let the bastard come.
Saul trotted next to her, his tongue hanging out of his mouth in a happy doggy smile. He hadn’t liked being cooped up any more than she had. They needed motion and action and freedom. There had been little enough of that since the first murders happened.
She picked up her pace, eating up the distance. She wouldn’t go more than three miles, well within the coverage of the cameras Emma had set up. The killer might be able to circumvent them, but Emma would realize he was doing it and be able to narrow down her location from there. Sure. Whatever you have to tell yourself to justify what you’re doing.
Lei kept her gaze on the trees around her. She never brought headphones on these runs because wild animals were a possible threat, and surprising a deer could be just as dangerous as a cougar, so she kept her ears peeled for anything out of the ordinary. The forest around her felt too quiet, but that was as likely to be her nerves talking as anything else.
Still, it paid to be wary.
She hit the marker for a mile and a half and turned back the way she’d come. “Home, boy.”
With every step, Lei expected someone to lurch out of the trees and come for her, but she made it back to the house unmolested. Isaac’s car was nowhere to be seen, but she recognized Dante’s rental. She smiled before she caught herself, and slowed to cool down. The screen door slammed open, and there was the man himself, his expression stormy. “You left.” He didn’t raise his voice, but in the sudden quiet of the space between them, he didn’t have to.
“It was only a run.”
If anything, her dismissal pissed him off further. He stalked down the steps, crossing the distance separating them in several long strides. “You can’t take risks like that.” He reached out like he’d grab her arms but dropped his hands at the last moment. “Anything could have happened.”
“I was fine.” She sounded defensive, but she couldn’t help it. “I can’t live locked up, Dante. I’ll go crazy. I just needed to clear my head.”
He raked his hands over his head. If he’d had much hair, he might have yanked it right out in sheer frustration. It came off him in waves, and she took a step back before she caught herself. He went still. She could actually see the professional FBI agent sliding back into place over the man beneath, and part of Lei mourned the loss. “I would never hurt you.”
“I know.” She studied him, taking in the layer beneath the frustration. Fear. He’d been scared for her. And why not? Last time she went on a run, she’d found the evidence the killer had left for her. Clarke was missing, maybe connected to this case. Of course Dante would assume the worst when he arrived and found her gone. “Did Emma show you the monitors?”
“Yes.” He looked away. “But the unsub has already proven he can tamper with them.”
“Dante . . .” She stepped closer and tentatively touched his chest. “I’m sorry I scared you.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “This case has gotten to me. You’ve gotten under my skin. I care about you, and not just because you’re part of this case. I care about you.”
“Dante, I—”
“I know. It’s too much and highly inappropriate and—”
“I care about you, too,” she blurted. He didn’t move, but she still had words bubbling up inside her, needing to be voiced, for the truth to be told. “I’m broken. I might have been broken even before that night, but I most definitely am now. I don’t know how to do any of this, but I . . . I like how you make me feel. I like you.”
He stepped to her and carefully took her hands. “It has to wait until the case is over.”
“I know.” Lei smiled up at him, but the feeling of peace shattered as the front door slammed. She glanced past Dante to find a large redheaded man leaning against the front porch post. Even if he hadn’t had a badge clipped to his belt, she would have known him for a Fed. It was in the watchfulness of his blue eyes, the way he held himself, as if ready to spring into motion at any moment, the way he seemed to take one look at them and recognize that there was something deeper going on than just talk about the case.
He caught her looking and smiled, and she actually rocked back on her heels in the face of the charm she could almost feel. “Whoa.”
Dante sighed. “That’s Tucker—Agent Kendrick.”
“Does he practice that look in the mirror? How does he keep from being mobbed by adolescent girls?” she murmured.
He laughed. “You’ll have to ask him.”
Maybe she would. Though, as Lei headed for the front door, the reality of the situation crashed down around her shoulders. The Feds weren’t there because they were friends—not even Dante. He might be interested in starting something up with her—after. Right now, they were there to help catch the monster hunting Lei and Emma. And one of their number had already gone missing. It’s like something out of a horror movie. The killer is circling, and nothing we do can get ahead of him.
She stopped in front of Agent Kendrick and held out her hand. “Lei Zhang.”
“Agent Tucker Kendrick. I’d say it’s a pleasure, but the circumstances kind of make that a lie.” He had a good handshake, warm and firm. “I’m a fan of your work.”
She blinked. “I didn’t realize my work lent itself to having fans.”
“Well, maybe not the usual type, but plenty of us Feds look at cadaver dogs and their handlers as something downright magical.” He gifted her with another of those heart-stopping grins.
“That’s all Saul.” She glanced down to find her dog staring at Tucker in adoration. Seeing that, she relaxed a little. Saul’s people instincts weren’t always spot-on, but if he instinctively disliked someone, she always paid attention to it. Nine times out of ten, it eventually came out that the person had skeletons in their closet. The remaining one had just been a dick, but that still wasn’t the type of person she wanted to waste her time on.
“May I?”
If she had any doubts about liking Tucker, they disappeared in that moment. “Sure. Saul, say hello.”
Saul rushed forward and licked Tucker’s hand as the man crouched. He allowed Tucker to pet him and then about bowled the big man over with his wiggling. She sighed. “You’re such a sap, Saul.”
“Nah, he’s good pup.” Tucker spent a few more minutes telling him what a good dog he was.
Dante stopped next to her. “The blanket?”
She wrapped her arms around herself, a protective gesture she couldn’t stop from making. “Yes.” She took a deep breath and charged on. “Isaac came in and bagged up the blanket to pass along to the Seattle police for processing, but I don’t think the killer left anything behind. He’s been too clever up to this point.”
“I’m inclined to agree with you, but we’ll check nonetheless.”
Tucker gave Saul one last pat and straightened. “I had a couple thoughts I wanted to run by you and Emma.”
Thoughts. It was a delicate way to say he was going to question them again. She nodded, because there was no other choice. Lei had racked her brain for anything and everything that could possibly be connected to Travis or the current killer, and there was nothing new that hadn’t been there last week, or last year, or ten years ago. She’d trotted out every single moment she’d spent with Travis for both the prosecuting and defense attorneys, until it felt like she was on trial. If there was something more to remember, she would remember it.
Wouldn’t she?
She realized both men were staring at her and nodded. “Sure. Let’s get Emma and we can talk.”
They found Emma exactly where Lei had left her, curled up in a blanket in front of her computer, Prince at her feet. Prince gave Tucker and Dante a stern look and laid his head back down, taking his lead from Saul.
Em
ma, on the other hand, was so furious she was practically shaking. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“I already got this talk from Dante. I don’t need it from you, too.” She hated feeling like an idiot—she courted that sensation enough on her own while she was running—and getting lectured for the second time in an hour was too much to take. “I went out. Nothing happened. I know it was stupid, but it happened and it’s done, and I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
“You don’t want to talk about it? Well, that’s just too damn bad.” Emma shoved to her feet, sending Prince scrambling. “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you, and you seem to have a fucking death wish. You can’t do that, Lei. You can’t put yourself in danger like that. I can’t . . . What would I do . . . ?” She gasped in a breath, and her shakes got so bad the blanket fell from her shoulders.
Fuck. She’s having a panic attack.
Lei guided her back into the chair and turned to Dante. “Xanax is in the cabinet closest to the back door.” He nodded and wasted no time leaving the room. Though she was conscious of Tucker watching them, she ignored him for the time being. “Breathe, Emma. I’m here. I’m safe. I’m sorry I worried you. You know how I get when I’m stressed. I should have talked to you before I left.”
Emma grasped her hands hard enough to make her bones grind together. “I can’t lose you, too, Lei. I won’t survive it.”
That’s what she was afraid of. “You didn’t lose me, Em. I’m right here.”
Dante reappeared with one of the little blue pills. Lei took half a second to make sure it was the right one and then handed it to Emma. “Here. Take it with your coffee.”
It took ten minutes for her shakes to settle and her breathing to come normally. Her blue eyes took a slightly hazy note, and she shivered. “That was a bad one.”
“It was.” Lei pulled the blanket higher around her friend’s shoulders and tucked her back into the chair. She was just glad it had only taken one pill to derail the panic attack. On the days it took two, Emma usually ended up taking an impromptu nap on the couch in her office, and they needed her to answer questions with Lei. Once she was sure her friend was okay, she sank into the other office chair.
