by Sophie Oak
legs had held hers apart, her pussy on full display and available to his lips and tongue. Her pussy was sweetly pink and swollen from use.
Rafe had tenderly washed her with a warm cloth before he’d settled
between her legs and licked every inch of her. When he’d looked up
her body, Cam’s hands had been there, holding her down when she
tried to wiggle, keeping her still so Rafe could have his way.
Cam was his partner.
Brad was just a fellow employee.
“What’s this new information?” Rafe asked, cutting off whatever
diatribe Brad had gone on.
Brad stopped and turned to him. His eyebrows rose over his
angular face. “You like this girl, don’t you? Were you involved with
her before she left?”
Rafe tightened his grip on the steering wheel as he turned out of
the small cluster of cabins in the valley toward the center of town.
He’d been here less than twenty-four hours, but he was learning his
way around. “It doesn’t matter.”
Brad’s eyes narrowed. “It matters, Rafe. If you’re involved with
this woman, it affects this case. She’s the only person we know of
who’s survived this guy. She’s a victim. You don’t fuck victims.”
Rafe stopped the SUV in the middle of the highway. “She’s Laura
Rosen. She has a fucking name, and you’re going to treat her with
some goddamn respect.”
Brad’s whole face fell. “Shit, you’re in love with her.”
Rafe cursed himself. Brad was very by the book. Joe knew about
him and Laura, but Joe understood. He’d agreed to keep it quiet and
not take Rafe off the case. Brad could make a stink. Rafe didn’t want
to find himself on the sidelines. This was just one of the reasons he
hadn’t gotten close to his “partner.” He would never have been able to
keep something like that from Cam when they had worked together.
There was a long sigh. “I’m not going to say anything. I don’t
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know why you think I’m such a dick.”
Rafe slid a glance his way.
“Fine, I’m a dick,” Brad replied. “I’m a thrice-divorced dickhead
with very few friends. I’m not going to out you. You’re my partner.”
“Joe knows.” He’d poured his heart out to the SAC after Laura
had disappeared.
“Then you’re fine. I’m not going over Joe’s head, but you have to
be careful. There’s a reason we don’t get emotionally involved with
any case.” Brad sat back. “Okay. As long as we’re putting all our
cards on the table, I received a package yesterday. It came to my
apartment, but it was addressed to Laura Rosen.”
Rafe’s gut clenched. “Why would he send a package to you? He
doesn’t send packages. He’s sent notes before.”
De Sade had sent a couple of notes to both the Bureau and the
newspapers, but he’d never sent a package before. And why would he
send one addressed to Laura?
“I think I know why.” Brad gingerly touched his nose, looking in
the passenger side vanity mirror. “I don’t have a family, and my
building doesn’t have security cameras. And I’ve filed the last three
official updates on the killings. I think de Sade has been watching for
any sign of her.”
“How could he have known?”
Brad slumped back. “Because we have a leak somewhere. Jana
Evans being here in this tiny piece of hell proves it. I’m sure she’s
already filed a report back home. It will be the top story on the
evening news. If reporters already have the story, why couldn’t de
Sade? The package was sitting in front of my door when I went home
yesterday afternoon.”
That would have been right around the time Joe had called. They
had moved damn fast. And de Sade had done his homework, as
always. He was everything Laura’s profile said he would be. Ruthless.
Intelligent. He had to have known that Brad’s building didn’t have
great security. Damn, he probably had a file on every agent on the
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case. It would be easy, if he was law enforcement. “What was in that
package?”
There was a little hesitation that let Rafe know it was going to be
bad. “A single pair of women’s underwear. A small, pink thong.”
Fuck. Laura had been found naked with only a thin sheet wrapped
around her bleeding body. Among the clothes she listed as missing
was a pink thong. Rafe had to swallow back the bile that threatened to
come up. “No note?”
“No, but the message was clear. He knows we’ve found her. We
have the lab working on DNA, and the box has been sent to forensics,
but you know we won’t get anything off it. He’s too careful.”
“He does seem to have a working knowledge of forensics and how
to avoid detection,” Rafe murmured.
“Yeah, anyone who watches TV does these days. I don’t buy that
this guy is one of us. And you shouldn’t, either. I don’t want to argue
about this. The Marquis de Sade is not an agent. He’s some asshole
who has connections, I can buy that. We need to check into Jana
Evans.”
Rafe had already thought of that. Jana herself wasn’t capable of
breaking a nail, but it was obvious that whoever de Sade was, he was
carefully watching the reporter. “I agree. Run a check on everyone
around her, including that cameraman of hers.”
She’d worked with this particular cameraman for as long as Rafe
had known her. Bob Lewis or something. It couldn’t hurt to run a
check. Including financials.
Brad pulled out his phone and started making notes. Rafe had to
give that to Brad. He was an asshole, but he was organized. He was
always on top of things. Cam forgot. Cam’s brain was always flitting
around. Rafe had been the one to write things down. Sometimes
Brad’s brutal efficiency bugged the shit out of Rafe.
Rafe sped down the road. It wasn’t like the locals were going to
pull him over. The sheriff had his hands full of Feds, and the
disgruntled deputy had Laura. “So why did Joe decide to go mobile?”
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“Joe was worried about that package. He thought it was best if we
came out here and talked to the vic…to Laura again. She’s our only
connection. We need her.” Brad was silent for a moment. “We need
you, too. I need to know that you can keep your head on straight.”
Up ahead, Rafe could see the truck Wolf had driven off in parked
in front of the Sheriff’s Office. Two Broncos sat in the parking lot,
too, and several black SUVs. It looked like the gang was all here.
Woohoo.
“My head is on straight,” Rafe assured his partner. “I promise
you, my brain is thinking about this case twenty-four-seven.”
“That’s what I want to hear, man.”
Rafe pulled into a parking space. His brain might be on the case,
but Rafe had the sinking feeling that his brain wasn’t in charge
anymore.
He knew he wasn’t in charge of anything when he walked through
the double doors of the Bliss
County Sheriff’s Department. It was
utterly transformed from the quiet little station house he’d visited
yesterday. Rafe had dropped by the station to officially introduce
himself and inform the sheriff why he was in town after Cam had
finished talking to the conspiracy kook.
There were folding tables and laptops everywhere. The sheriff
stood in the middle of it all, a pained expression on his face. A small
brunette in a long skirt and a button-down shirt stood next to him, a
clipboard in her hand. She chewed on her lower lip as she carefully
wrote on the paper. Rafe sought his memory. Hannah? Hope. The
sheriff’s secretary’s name was Hope something. She’d been quiet as a
mouse during yesterday’s interview with Nate Wright.
“Special Agent Kincaid,” Nate called out. He pushed through the
crowd, his hand out. “Am I happy to see you.”
That was a surprise since the sheriff hadn’t been happy to see him
yesterday. Rafe shook the man’s hand. “Sheriff, I’m sorry about this. I
had no idea they were coming. Despite what everyone thinks.”
Nate had an easy smile on his face. “I believe you. I know how
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service is out here. Though you folks don’t seem to have the same
problems. Your boss brought satellite phones.”
“Well, we have the best equipment. We’re not going to rely on
locals when we can bring our own things. You should sit back and
watch how it’s done, Sheriff.” Brad patted the sheriff’s shoulder
condescendingly and walked off.
“Don’t shoot him,” Rafe said with a sigh. “He’s arrogant.”
Nate shrugged it off. “I’ve dealt with worse. Hell, I’ve been
worse. We need to talk.”
Rafe nodded. For some reason, he trusted Nate Wright. He’d
learned a little bit about the sheriff. He was once a DEA agent. He
wasn’t some lightweight. “And we will, once I get a lay of the land.
And it’s best if we don’t do it here.”
Rafe wasn’t sure what the FBI coming to Bliss meant yet, but it
never hurt to have allies. He had a feeling the sheriff would be a
powerful ally.
“Sure, I suspect we can sneak off for lunch and no one will notice.
Your boss has already ordered in. He’s taken over my entire office.
Seriously, I hope I didn’t fucking act like this when I was a fed.”
Rafe could only nod. He knew how it went. When the FBI
decided it was taking over, local law enforcement was pretty much
fucked. Up until now, it seemed like the right thing to do, but Rafe
kind of liked Nathan Wright. He seemed very competent, but Rafe
knew that Joe would cut Wright out. He would do it because no FBI
SAC was going to truly trust the locals. And Rafe was pretty sure, in
this case, that was a mistake.
“Where’s the special agent in charge?” Rafe had already looked
around the small office and hadn’t seen Laura. Joe would have her.
Rafe had worked with Joe for years. He knew how Joe operated. Joe
would have been all over her the minute Laura entered the room.
“Do you have an interrogation room?”
“A small one,” Nate replied. He pointed down a narrow hallway.
“She’s in there. Briggs went in with her. I thought she was going to
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punch him at first, but he managed to smooth talk her into letting him
in there with her. The SAC said you could go in when you got here.
Do you need anything? Hope is making a run to Stella’s for coffee
and breakfast.”
Rafe’s appetite had fled long before. There was nothing now but
an angry lump in his gut, but he hoped it was different for Laura.
“Laura likes her coffee dark with just a hint of sugar. Can you
make sure Hope brings her a dark roast with one sugar packet? And a
bagel. She likes bagels with cinnamon cream cheese.”
A hint of a smile played on Nate Wright’s mouth. “I believe that’s
what she asked Hope to bring her, though she didn’t ask for the bagel.
I think she’s eating Holly’s banana bread.”
Rafe nodded and walked through the hall toward the small closed
door. He stopped. It felt like the walls were closing in on him. He’d
been here before, back in DC. It was all the same. Narrow hallways
and neutral colors leading to a room where questions were answered
in monotones. Rafe had been in a hundred of these rooms. The fact
that Laura sat in one now made him edgy. She was on the wrong side
of the table. She was on the vulnerable side.
He hated that.
There was a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach. There was one
reason and one reason only for the BAU to come out here and talk to
Laura Rosen. She’d given them all the information she had. Her case
was five years old. There was a chance they had come out here to
simply talk to her—but Rafe discounted that possibility. Brad’s
snippet of information made that scenario implausible. They didn’t
want to talk to Laura. They wanted to use her.
For bait.
Fuck. Why had he told anyone? He should have taken a leave of
absence and come here with Cam with no further agenda than seeing
her again, holding her again. He’d fucked up, and Cam and Laura had
every right to be pissed with him.
And yet, a certain amount of rage choked him. She’d walked out.
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She’d left without a goddamn word. Didn’t he have the right to be
angry?
She wouldn’t be safe until he took down the Marquis de Sade.
She’d be looking over her shoulder for the rest of her life.
Rafe walked through the door.
“And you’re sure you haven’t had any communication with…”
Joe stopped in the middle of his sentence, his face serious as he
glanced up at Rafe.
The small room was filled to capacity. There was a long wooden
table. A recording device was sitting in the middle, the red light
flashing, indicating that it was on. Laura’s golden-blonde head was
turned away from him, but there was no mistaking who sat beside her.
Cam’s broad shoulders filled up too much space. He’d obviously
moved his chair so he could sit as close as possible. Cam’s hips
brushed against hers.
Rafe felt a burning jealousy fill his soul.
“Special Agent Kincaid, it’s nice of you to join us,” Joe said with
a welcoming smile on his face.
On the other side of the table, Edward Lock sat beside Joe.
Edward was an older man, but there was nothing soft about him. He
kept in shape, both body and mind. He was studying Laura, his razor-
sharp gray eyes assessing her the way he would an unsub. Rafe had
the sudden urge to punch him in the face.
“Come and join us, Special Agent,” Joe offered. There was one
chair left to the right of Joe. “I was just filling in Special Agent…I
mean Laura on the case. It’s been a while. We’ve been catching up a
bit while we waited on you.”
Laura finally turned, her blue eyes shifting up. Her face was
utterly blank, but he didn’t miss th
e way her hand curled around
Cam’s.
Fucker.
Rafe had a choice, and it was so clear to him now. He had to
choose between the career he’d spent years building and the woman
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165
he’d obsessed over. She seemed to have already made her choice. It
should be simple. She’d chosen Cam. Rafe could move to the FBI
side of the table with no remorse, just a never-ending ache in his
heart. She’d made her choice without even bothering to listen to his
side of the story. It was the same thing she’d done when she’d walked
out of the hospital. She hadn’t bothered to let him know if she was
alive or dead. She hadn’t given him a single thought.
He could choose his career with the same ruthless selfishness that
she’d used when she’d walked away.
Rafe walked around the table, pulled out the chair—and moved
that fucker, because he was done with picking his job over the needs
of his heart.
She’d walked out on him and ripped his heart in two. She was
currently choosing his best friend over him without giving him a
chance to explain, and he would sit at her side until he keeled over
because he loved her. He knew that now. He knew it in a way he
couldn’t have known before she’d left. The last five years had taught
him something. He was ready for a marriage. He was ready to move
on to a place where his job was something that took care of the people
he loved. Hell, that was all this place had been for the last five years, anyway. It had become a place that paid for Cam to look for Laura.
He and Cam had been functioning as a unit. Rafe wanted his place
acknowledged.
Laura slid a glance his way.
Rafe kept his eyes on Joe. “Perhaps you would like to bring me up
to speed, Special Agent. Special Agent Conrad told me some new
evidence has come to light that makes the unit believe de Sade is
working again and taking an interest in former Agent Rosen.”
“He had her panties, Rafe,” Cam said with a brutal frown.
Laura sighed. “Yes, I wish the bastard hadn’t kept those.”
At least Cam was looking at him. There was a file in front of Joe
that Rafe reached for. There was a stack of photos. On top was an
evidentiary photo of a small, pink piece of silk.
