She was grateful she was already sitting down.
#
"Mr. Kincaid?"
Jake glanced at the rookie as he nervously approached, waiting until Sergeant Masters finished speaking.
"Yes, Officer Burns?"
"There is a woman here to see you, a Ms. Anastasia."
Jake’s pulse raced at hearing Violet’s name and he looked in the direction Burns pointed.
If Burns had picked up a two-by-four and slammed it into Jake’s gut, his reaction would have been the same.
She'd been pretty last night, even in the grips of shock. Today she was stunning. Her eyes were the most incredible color, not quite blue, not quite purple, but a mix of the two. Violet, he supposed the color would be called. He didn’t think he had ever seen eyes that shade except for contacts and he was positive hers were one hundred percent real. And they were framed beautifully by long sooty lashes. She'd secured her silky hair into a ponytail, which served to accentuate her lovely face.
He felt physically drawn to her…the attraction almost like two halves of a magnet unavoidably drawn together. He couldn’t look away. He had to, so he forced his gaze to the clock on the wall. It was still early and he guessed she got very little sleep last night.
"Thanks Burns, I’ll get to her in a minute." He needed the time to compose himself. The officer nodded and returned to his desk. Jake finished his conversation with Sergeant Masters and then straightening his tie, he paced to the waiting area as casually as possible. He extended his hand. "Ms. Anastasia, how are you this morning?" She was staring at him as if she couldn’t pull her gaze away either. She felt the attraction, too.
As if realizing he asked a question, she shook her head. "Oh, Detective Kincaid. Sorry, I’m a little spacey, otherwise I’m doing about as well as can be expected. How are you?"
She accepted his outstretched hand and he started at the contact. Little pinpricks of awareness shot up his arm and through his body.
"I’m fine, and I'm not a detective. I was with the FBI but I work for a private security firm now. If you want to follow me, we can go someplace quiet where we can talk."
Jake led her back to the conference room but inside he was reeling. He'd never felt this instant attraction to a woman. There was no denying that jolt of electricity when their hands met. Once he could chalk it up to static, but not twice. Sure, he had experienced lust at first sight many times, but this felt like something more…
He held out his arm to direct her inside the conference room. It took all his willpower not to put his hand on the small of her back to guide her. He hurried ahead and pulled out a chair.
"Thank you, Mr. Kincaid," she murmured shyly over her shoulder.
Damn, she almost caught him sniffing her hair. He couldn’t help it. Last night had been Heaven and he needed more.
"You’re welcome. And, please, call me Jake." His brows snapped down. Where the hell did that come from? He never told witnesses to call him by his first name. Well, he certainly couldn’t take it back now. "Would you like a cup of coffee, Ms. Anastasia?"
"Yes, please. Sugar, no cream. And I would appreciate it if you called me Violet."
Jake fetched the coffee and then stepped into the hall to stop a passing officer. "When Detective Turner arrives, tell him I’m meeting with the witness and ask him to come to the conference room." Maybe if he had Turner as a buffer, he wouldn’t make such an ass out of himself. The officer nodded and Jake returned to the room with two cups of steaming brew, setting one in front of her.
"Thank you, Jake." She smiled sweetly at him.
"Sure," he mumbled as he marched over to close the door. He tugged out the chair next to her, sat his mug on the table, smoothed his tie and sat. "Did you get any rest last night?"
"No."
"I’m not surprised. What you saw last night was traumatic. It'll take a while for you to sleep through the night."
She nodded and studied her hands.
"Have you remembered anything else?"
"No, and I’ve thought about it over and over. It was so dark and then when I turned on the light and saw her, I just dashed to her to try to find a pulse. When I couldn't find one, I ran for the phone. I didn’t get a chance to look around the room."
"I know you said you didn’t read all of the note last night. I don’t mean to upset you, but I don’t want to sugar coat this either. You could be in danger."
Her eyes snapped to his. "M-me? In danger? Why? I didn’t see the killer."
Jake gave her a grave look. "He knows you."
A soft gasp escaped. "How can you be sure?"
"Because of this." He slid a snapshot in front of her.
Roses are red
Darling Violet tried
She almost caught me
But Rayann still died
Time's running out
Keep your eyes open wide
For this I will tell
My love won’t be denied
She dropped the photo as her hands moved to cover her mouth. "Oh my God."
"Violet?" He eased her fingers from her face and clutched them tightly. "It could be the janitor you mentioned."
She tugged free and frantically shook her head. "No, it is not him. I know him. He is too sweet. He used to leave me gifts when I started working here. I think I was one of the few professors that stopped to talk to him."
A shiver of apprehension shot though Jake. The janitor used to leave her gifts, indicating he was most likely enamored with her. The three girls who had been killed all had long dark hair. Damn! He didn’t believe in coincidences, and there were too many with Violet and this case. He was going to have to stay close to protect her.
"I’m bringing him in for questioning." Just as soon as they could find him. They tried to locate him last night but other than a post office box, no additional address was listed on file with the university.
Violet shot to her feet. "You can’t do that. He's very shy. You would scare him to death."
She was incredibly caring, on top of having beauty and brains. A lethal combination. He eased her back into the chair. "Whoever entered that room used a key."
She flung her head from side to side, her ponytail slapping against her cheeks. Grabbing his hand, she pleaded, "You can’t question him. I’m positive it’s not Carlos. He would never do something like this…something so evil."
A sharp knock rapped on the door and Turner stuck his head inside. "Am I interrupting anything?"
#
Kincaid spun around and quickly dropped Ms. Anastasia’s hand as he shot to his feet. "No, come in." Clearly flustered, he glanced down at the dark-haired beauty. "Vio…er, Ms. Anastasia, this is Detective Nick Turner of the Burlington Police Force. Turner, this is Violet Anastasia."
"Nice to meet you," Violet murmured as they shook hands.
Wow, she was a looker. He almost got distracted by her gorgeous eyes and understood Kincaid’s fascination with her. He noticed the way the tough ex-Special Agent acted with her last night and then he caught them holding hands when he came in this morning. Oh, he hadn’t said anything to Kincaid…yet.
"You have very beautiful eyes, Ms. Anastasia." Damn, he hadn’t meant to say that out loud but he couldn’t help himself.
"Thank you," she murmured as Nick dropped into the chair across the table. He darted a surreptitious look at Kincaid’s face and tried to keep from smiling. Super-Agent was jealous. This wasn’t the time or place but he would enjoy yanking his chain. Too bad they lived so far apart.
"I’m not sure how much Kincaid told you about the investigation. I was the lead investigator at the first murder and I’m the local detective in charge of the case."
He felt Kincaid’s eyes boring into him. Did Jake think he was telling her this to make himself look better?
"After that first murder, we knew from the signs we had a serial killer on our hands but we had absolutely no leads." He glanced at Kincaid, who was glaring at him through narrowed lids. He’d love to
drag this out a little longer and watch Kincaid squirm, but this was not a joking matter.
"I attended a conference in Chicago where Kincaid was the keynote speaker. He was still with the FBI at the time. He gave a very powerful speech and I always thought that if I had a case I couldn’t solve, I’d give him a ring. When I worked in Boston, we had one and I gave him a call. He and his partner came in and we solved the case. After Ms. Tennison was murdered and I recognized the signs of a serial killer, I didn’t hesitate to contact the FBI and request him. I didn't realize he had left the Bureau but they agreed he could work as our FBI liaison. I couldn’t be happier. He’s the best in the business."
Nick looked back at Kincaid and swore there was a slight red tint to his tan skin. It was as fun to praise him as it was to tease him. He glimpsed at Violet, who currently had a dreamy smile on her face. Damn, these kids were in some serious lust.
"Anyway, Kincaid has already picked up on a vital clue." He didn’t add that it was her link to the killer. He’d let Kincaid handle that one. "So if anyone can solve this case quickly, it’s Jake."
Violet turned and smiled sweetly at Kincaid, who gave her a crooked grin before glowering at Nick. Nick took a swig of coffee to hide his glee.
God, this was more fun than the time he put Viagra into Sergeant Simmons cookies and watched the grumpy old man shift uncomfortably behind his desk for hours.
Just call him Cupid.
#
The man lowered the newspaper and threw back his head in laughter. The inept cops had nothing. Even with his carefully crafted clues, they couldn’t figure it out. Oh how he enjoyed watching them run in circles.
Still chuckling, he picked up a pair of scissors and clipped the article from the paper. He walked over to the snapshot he took of the lovely Rayann. The quality wasn’t great…it had been too dark in the supply closet. But you could still make out her face and her damaged body. Using a glue stick, he pasted the article next to her picture on his wall of fame.
He enjoyed watching the authorities make fools of themselves, but after his other binges the challenge wasn’t there. They never came close to capturing him. Hell, they never even found the bodies. He was too good. He needed to up the ante, give the ignorant cops clues. He thought his beautiful prose would help but they were idiots, the lot of them. Even with the poems, they would never catch him. He was invincible.
He pictured his obsession and smiled. He couldn’t take her right away, otherwise, the thrill wouldn’t be enough. He had to stay close while he quenched his urges on other women.
He was confident he would never be caught. The police were so lame, they provided very little challenge. Oh, at first, he’d been scared of getting caught. But he soon realized how superior he was to the cops. He could outwit them, outsmart them. In fact, he could walk right in front of their faces and they would never suspect him—and he had.
He'd wanted to keep a souvenir of his triumph over Kim but feared getting caught. He decided on a picture to forever remember the look on her face at death. Fear, shock, horror. He laughed more. That one was his favorite.
The only other souvenir he kept had been a pair of her slutty lingerie.
He had been shocked when the urge came over him again after so many years. He had seen the girl with the dark hair and it instantly reminded him of his tormentor.
He knew then and there he couldn’t let her live.
A news flash caught his eye and he turned up the sound. It was that blonde reporter talking about him. Him! Oh, she didn’t know his name, but he knew who she meant. She was saying something about a press conference this afternoon. He snorted. Like the police would have anything important to say. They’d look like idiots to the entire viewing area.
He made a note of the time. He would figure out how to watch the broadcast.
The woman smiled into the camera just before it cut back to the moron in the studio. He flicked it off. She was gorgeous. Too bad he didn’t go for blondes.
CHAPTER 8
Violet headed straight for the University after she left the police station. She drove extra-slow since her reflexes were still dull from the shock of discovering the serial killer actually knew her name And she didn't get a look at him, so she didn't think he saw her…he recognized her voice. That might even be worse. Jake urged her to be cautious and she felt better when he told her they would ramp up patrol in her neighborhood.
She parked her Jeep in the lot and grabbed her briefcase. She never had time to prepare for today’s lessons, so she would just let the students have an off-day. That ought to earn her a few bonus points this early in the semester.
She picked up her steps, glancing around as she hurried to the building. She hated feeling exposed. She hadn’t felt this much danger since she faced Willie Jack in the courtroom. When the verdict came back guilty, he promised he would get even with her for putting him behind bars. Her sister hadn’t been able to testify, so it was Violet’s word against her stepfather. The jury sided with her. She breathed a sigh of relief once she reached the lilac bush Zeus watered last night and she scurried through the door.
The grapevine had been busy. It took over an hour to reach her office. She was stopped by dozens of people inquiring how she was, what she saw, did the police have any leads… She was no sooner inside her office when Todd came rushing in and wrapped his arms around her.
"Violet, love, I was so worried about you last night. I almost came by countless times. Are you okay, darling?"
It made her uncomfortable when he talked like that. She enjoyed hanging out with him as a friend, but that was all. Nonetheless, he was concerned. She never really had friends before, besides Grandma June, and Daisy when they were younger. Now she had two: Todd and Chris. Three counting Carlos.
She smiled. "I’m fine, Todd. Thanks for your concern."
He ran his hands along her arms. "I almost had a heart attack when Chris called. If all the cops hadn’t been at the school, I would've gotten a ticket racing to rescue you. Thank goodness I was out running errands and was so close."
Violet stepped away from his touch. Ever since that night long ago with her stepfather, she didn’t like being touched except by Daisy or Grandma June. Or Jake.
Whoa.
She inhaled sharply. That thought startled her. She just met the man. He held her hand to comfort her last night and it felt so good, she twined their fingers together. The little zaps of awareness had warmed her. Again in the conference room this morning, he gently grasped her hand and she felt sadly desolate when he dropped it when Detective Turner appeared.
Chris breezed in the door, chic in her cranberry blazer and skirt, a pretty purple scarf draped around her neck. Gold hoops dangled from her ears and her hair was stylishly coifed in platinum spikes. She elbowed Todd out of the way, her numerous bracelets jangling, and wrapped Violet in a hug. Violet accepted the hug with resignation. Chris was a very touchy-feely person. She had learned to accept the gesture and even return it.
"I can’t tell you how worried I was when I drove by and saw all the flashing lights and your car in the parking lot. I panicked." She placed her hands on Violet’s cheeks and tilted her head back until their eyes met. "Are you really okay?"
Violet smiled, touched at her friend’s sincere concern—at both of their concern. "I’m much better today," she lied. She didn’t want to answer any questions they might have about the killer and how he obviously knew her.
"Did you go to the police station this morning?"
She angled behind her desk and sat before answering Chris’s question. "Yes."
"And," she prompted. "Do they have any leads?"
Violet shook her head.
Todd laughed condescendingly. "And that surprises you? Ninety-nine percent of the police force is incompetent anyway."
"Todd," Chris admonished, flashing him a dirty look. "Don’t upset her any more with your callous remarks."
Violet tuned out her bickering friends. They fought like cats and dogs.
She often thought they should date, opposites attracting and all, but Todd was too insecure to date a taller woman and sometimes she got the feeling Chris really loathed Todd, only putting up with him for Violet’s sake.
Glancing around the small area, she catalogued her belongings. Jake told her to make sure nothing was missing. He would be stopping by later to talk to Dean Glasgo and to question Carlos and said he would pop in to say hi. Her whole body tingled at the thought of seeing him again.
A firm rap on her door startled her from her thoughts. She wanted to shout, "I’m fine" for everyone within a five mile radius to hear but instead managed, "Come in."
"Ms. Anastasia?" Dean Glasgo perched in the doorway. "How are you this morning?"
"Hello, Dean. I’m a little shaken, but okay. I’m sorry, but I didn’t have time to prepare for my classes today."
The dean stepped inside her office and made a pshaw sound, waving a meaty hand in the air. "Don’t worry about it. I’ve already instructed Phyllis to post notices canceling your classes today. You have been through quite an ordeal, Ms. Anastasia." He widened his hands in a benevolent gesture. "Take some time off. We can always call in a substitute."
She smiled, appreciating his concern. "Thank you, but I should be fine for tomorrow." Besides, she needed to work to keep her mind off Rayann and the murders.
"So what exactly did you see?"
The sound of a throat clearing made everyone’s eyes shoot to the door, and saved her from answering Dean Glasgo’s question. "Am I interrupting?"
Violet stood and had to grasp the edge of her desk to steady her legs. "No, please come in, Jake." Peripherally, she noticed Todd’s head snap around when she greeted the former federal agent by name.
Jake nodded a greeting to Chris, whom he had obviously met last night, but she didn’t get the chance to introduce him to Todd. "Jake, this is Todd Timms, he’s a poetry professor." She almost rolled her eyes at the territorial glares they shot at one another. To ease the tension, she added, "And this is Dean Neil Glasgo. Dean, this is Jake Kincaid of the FBI."
Violets Are Blue Page 6
