Wicked Sin

by Ainsley Booth

  “Was that about me?” she asks as she kisses my neck.

  “Yeah.” I take a deep breath. “They have someone in custody. The captain would like you to come in and look at a line up. If he’s been stalking you, you might recognize him, and then we can go at it from that angle. Dates and times, places.”

  “What if I don’t recognize him?”

  I turn, giving her my most reassuring look. “That’s okay. There’s circumstantial evidence, too. No pressure.”

  30

  Taylor

  When we arrive at the station, the squad room is quiet. Captain Woods meets us by Luke’s desk. “Just in time. The cavalry is on their way over, so I need to run interference there. They want to take our suspect before we do the line up, which is bullshit— Pardon my language, Ms. Reid.”

  “Literally the nicest thing anyone has said in my presence all day,” I tell her.

  She laughs. “I’ll put them in the conference room. You take Ms. Reid to the lineup room. McBride is almost ready, and that’s a quiet place to be out of the way, anyway.”

  “You don’t want me in there?” Luke winks, so I know this is an in-joke between them.

  The captain looks him up and down. “No offense, Vasquez, but the chances of you telling someone to get fucked is too high.”

  He grunts, and I suppress a smile. She’s probably not wrong.

  She claps him on the shoulder. “At least I know how to say it diplomatically.”

  “I’ll keep on keeping our witness company, then.”

  “You do that.”

  She flits away to the elevators, and Luke leads me down a hall and through a keycard protected door. On the other side of that, there’s another hallway, and I’m officially lost.

  “So, who is the cavalry, exactly? The FBI?” My pulse jumps a bit at the thought of seeing them again after ditching them. I didn’t do anything wrong, but a lifetime of being conditioned to face the worst judgment has made me jumpy.

  “Probably. And the Secret Service has its thumb in this, too. They all seem attached at the hip. Here we go.”

  He opens another door, and we’re in a dark anteroom, looking through one-way glass at something out of a movie or a TV show. An empty room with height lines painted on the far wall.

  My pulse jumps again. It’s pounding now.

  “Have a seat,” he says. “McBride will come in and do the official stuff for this. Until then, let me entertain you with terrible knock-knock jokes.”

  “Okay.” My voice sounds faint to my own ears. Small.

  Luke steps closer and wraps his arms around me. The hug feels good. “I’m here,” he whispers. “Even if I can’t hold you during the identification, know that this hug is very much continuing in spirit.”

  “Thank you.” Over his shoulder, I catch a glimpse of a set of televisions, all showing different video feeds from around the building. “What are those?”

  “This whole place was wired for telecom stuff. This wing is secure, for example, so if we want to stay here to stay close to an interrogation, but there’s a meeting happening in the conference room, you can call in from here. Honestly, I don’t think anyone has ever used it. But we do use the video conferencing there for task force stuff when a big manhunt is on, or when we sent the forensics from your case to Quantico for the FBI to process.”

  “Fancy.” I watch the captain step into the conference room, then turn back to Luke. “So, I guess this means our time together is coming to an end. I won’t be your captive anymore.”

  He hauls me in close for another tight, squeezing hug. “Fuck, Taylor. Yes, of course we’ll still be friends.”

  “Because it got complicated there for a while.”

  “It may always be complicated,” he murmurs. “I don’t mind that. I’m not easily scared off.”

  And I will try my best to distance myself. To push him away, because I’m broken and I like to test all the boundaries I bump up against, and then go brittle. Sharp.

  Self-defence in the most dysfunctional way possible.

  But before I can admit that to him, the door opens and Sarah McBride steps in.

  “Hi, Taylor. Thank you for coming in.” She smiles, and my panic eases a bit. “Have you ever done one of these before?”

  I shake my head, giving her my full attention while she explains the process.

  “You can turn around, look at the back wall, and after they line up, I’ll get you to turn around again. It’s important that you stay quiet. The glass isn’t completely soundproof. But remember, they can’t see you. And you are safe in here. Got it?”

  I nod. “Yes.”

  “Good.” She moves to an intercom and presses it. “Bring the lineup in, please.”

  I catch sight of a uniformed cop opening the door before Luke touches my back, and I turn around.

  The television monitors are the only thing in my sight now. There’s a group of men in suits with Captain Woods in the conference room. There’s nobody in the lobby in the second shot.

  And on the third screen is a straight on shot of a man in a suit, walking alone down a hallway.

  I suck back a gasp and spin around, blindly reaching for Luke.

  31

  Luke

  As McBride waits for the lineup to get settled, she hands me the case file.

  The suspect is a young guy who worked briefly as a nursing assistant at the plastic surgery clinic Taylor went to. One of the reservoir murder victims went there as well, and they found some evidence in his garbage from the last murder scene.

  All circumstantial, but a good start.

  Now we just need Taylor to recognize him, and they’ll have something to really nail him on in interrogation.

  “All right, Taylor, you can—” Sarah starts to give our witness direction, but Taylor has already turned around, her eyes wide.

  She’s reaching for me, full of terror.

  “It’s okay,” I say, taking her hand. “Tell us who you recognize.”

  She shakes her head. Tears are welling in her eyes.

  “No one in the lineup,” she whispers, shaking. “The Secret Service agent. It’s him. And he’s coming this way.”

  I turn and follow her finger, pointing to the monitor on the right.

  There’s nothing there. It’s an empty hallway.

  “Who did you see?”

  “I don’t know his name.” She swallows a gulp of air. “He was on the VP’s detail, though. He creeped me out. And I’ve seen him around L.A. I know I have.”

  Behind her, McBride’s eyes go wide.

  Photo line up, she mouths at me. Keep her here.

  Yeah, no fucking shit. We’re not leaving this room if there’s an agent in the building who has murderous intent toward Taylor.

  My fingers itch to grab my Glock, to put her behind me and wait. But I don’t want to alarm her any more than she already is, so I give her a reassuring smile. “Tell you what. Take a good look at this line up, just in case. And then Sarah’s going to go dismiss it, and get the captain, and we’re going to find out who it is that you saw. Okay? And in the meantime, we’re going to stay here. Nobody knows where we are. It’s fine. You’re okay.”

  Taylor nods shakily, then looks through the one-way glass. She does it carefully, even though I know her mind must be racing. “No,” she finally says. “I don’t recognize any of those people.”

  Sarah chews on her bottom lip. I can tell she’s trying to decide whether or not to explain that Taylor probably has seen at least one person there, in a medical setting. “How about number four?” she asks. “You don’t recognize him at all?”

  Taylor frowns and looks again. “I don’t know. Maybe. Oh—wait! He works with my plastic surgeon. Sorry, out of context. But I’ve never seen him anywhere other than that office, and I don’t think he was there the last time I went in.”

  Which means maybe someone is probably setting this guy up.

  How did he find him? Has a Secret Service agent been running a shado
w investigation, mis-using his badge? The captain is going to have to quietly talk to someone higher up that chain.

  This is going to get messy.

  “I’ll be back,” says McBride. “Thank you, Taylor. I know this is all very unsettling. We appreciate your cooperation. I’m going to find a uniform to stand guard outside, then I’ll make a couple of calls and come back.”

  After she leaves, I lock the door.

  Taylor’s gaze follows my hand.

  “Just in case,” I say, as casually as I can. “But he’s not going to try anything in a building full of cops.”

  “I hope you’re right.” She wrings her hands together.

  I take two chairs from the back wall and put them at right angles to each other, hers close to the wall, out of line of sight from the door should it get busted open. Mine is looking at the door. “Sit. Let’s find something interesting to talk about.”

  She gives me a faint smile. “Like kink?”

  “Or just dating stuff in general.”

  “Dating?” Her eyebrow raises. “Detective, do you have something you want to ask me?”

  I grin, ignoring my own angsty worry. It serves me no good right now. “Sit and you’ll find out.”

  She folds herself into the chair, and I sit beside her, relaxed and open, but ready to grab my weapon from my holster if I need it.

  “So I was thinking,” I tell her. “I’d like to take you dancing.”

  “Oh?”

  “How about when this is all over, we go out on a date. I’ll pick you up at your place, take you out for dinner, show you a good time.”

  Her eyes twinkle. “A good time, huh?”

  “That’s how I was supposed to spend my vacation time. Sleeping in, dancing all night.”

  “Sounds fun.” But she sounds wistful. Or reluctant, it’s hard to tell.

  Now’s not the best time for this conversation, but it works as a diversion tactic, so I press on. “I’ll wait until you’re free of me as your captor to ask you out officially.”

  That gets a real smile. “I kind of like having you as my captor.”

  Before I can reply to that, my phone rings. It’s the captain.

  “This is Vasquez,” I say as I answer the call.

  “We’ve reviewed the security footage. I believe the agent Ms. Reid saw was Newcomb. He was here, and he asked the sergeant on duty where Taylor was. He’s left the building now.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “There’s video footage outside of him getting in his car. You stay where you are. McBride is going to bring a photo array with his face in it for Ms. Reid to identify. We’re going to do this by the book. And if he’s our guy, we’ll nail him to the wall.”

  I disconnect the call.

  “News?” Taylor asks, searching my face.

  “McBride is going to come back and show you some photos. Let’s keep talking about your fantasy for me to lock you in a birdcage while we wait.”

  She bursts out laughing. “What?”

  “It’s a thing.” I wink at her. “I bet you’d like it.”

  “How big of a birdcage are we talking? Is there a lovely pillow for me to recline on while reading?”

  “As big as you want. And of course there would be pillows. Only the world’s finest comforts for my captive princess.”

  She shakes her head and laughs lightly. “Amazing.”

  It really would be. One day maybe I’ll take her to a dungeon full of cages and she can have her pick.

  There’s a triple knock, then a slight buzz as McBride uses her keycard to unlock the door.

  Ram is with her. He turns the bolt again once they’re inside. So—they aren’t sure Newcomb has actually left the building, either. The tightness in my gut twists harder. This could turn into a dangerous shooter situation in a dozen different ways.

  “Okay, Taylor. Another line up for you to look at this time. In this folder are a set of photographs. If you recognize anyone, please be as specific as you can.” Sarah hands it over and pulls out her notepad.

  By the book.

  Taylor takes a deep breath and opens the folder. Her face goes white. “That one,” she says immediately, pointing at Newcomb’s photo. “He was on the protective detail for the entire duration of our affair. And now I realize I’ve seen him around L.A., although I couldn’t place him those times. He wasn’t in a suit. Seeing him here, in the suit, on that video monitor—that’s when I recognized him in context.”

  “Can you tell me specifically, if you can remember, where you saw him here in Los Angeles?”

  “He was at the plastic surgery clinic once. That was the first time I noticed him. He was awkward enough about it catch my attention. And then I saw him twice more, shopping in the same area of Beverly Hills. He didn’t seem to notice me those times, but I recognized him as the weirdo from the clinic.”

  “Was he a client there?”

  “I assume so.”

  “Okay. Thank you, that gives us something specific to track down. Really good.”

  I look at McBride. She looks at Singh. And we all nod at once. It’s not much, but it might be enough to get a search warrant.

  I squeeze Taylor’s shoulder. “Good girl.” I don’t even fucking care if they know how I feel about her. “Here’s the thing. I’m going to help Sarah and Ram with this now. So I need to take you somewhere safe.”

  She blinks at me. “My sisters?”

  I nod. As much as I hate it, Cole Parker is the only person I would trust right now to keep Taylor safe.

  She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “Okay.”

  “They’re going to make sure that it’s safe for us to leave. And we need to talk to the captain first. So we’ll hang tight here for a minute—”

  There’s another triple knock at the door. This time, it’s the captain. She jerks her head for us to join her in the hallway.

  Taylor nods as I excuse myself.

  In the hallway, Sarah gives Woods a rundown of the ID, and the probable cause. “That she ID’s him at the clinic gives him the connection to the person he set up—and his access to the case gives him the means. Him asking about her here today, combined with the threats and the encounters in the past, is a solid case for him being the stalker. From that, we could build a circumstantial case that connects him back to the murders, but I don’t have anything direct there. Should we give this to the FBI, since the stalking is technically their case right now?”

  The captain shakes her head. “That’s why I came down here. Ferdinand just left. He’s got a clear profile and it’s not a law enforcement agent. He won’t pursue this.”

  I see red. “That’s fucking bullshit. Pardon my language, ma’am, but he’s protecting the Secret Service here.”

  She nods. “I agree, Vasquez. It doesn’t smell good.”

  “So who do I have to blow to get a warrant for a Secret Service agent’s apartment?”

  She looks at Sarah, her face grim. “I know a judge who will grant this. You get the application going while Vasquez gets Taylor the hell out of here. Then I’ll get the warrant while you begin the stakeout.”

  32

  Taylor

  Luke leads me to the garage, to where he parked his car, and I’m freaking out the whole way.

  Memories are slamming into me. Of that guy—Newcomb, they said, and that rings a bell. Agent Newcomb watching me with the former VPOTUS. Seeing him again here, and not knowing where I recognized his face from.

  And now they think he’s the guy who blew up my car.

  Why? It doesn’t make any sense. And that is terrifying to me.

  Men wanting sex, that’s normal. I grew up with that and feel like I can control that situation to some degree.

  I can’t control a stalker. He’s not working with a full set of…anything.

  As we stop beside Luke’s car, he wraps his arms around me for a tight hug. “We’ll get him,” he promises me. “And you’ll be safe with Cole until we do.”

  I
shiver inside the circle of his arms. “I know.”

  “Still scary.” His voice cracks a little. Just a little, but it’s reassuring. “For me, too. And that’s not something I usually have to admit.”

  We go in the service entrance of the Beverly Wilshire. Luke flashes his badge and people get out of our way.

  The elevator takes us straight up to the top floor, and when we get out, there’s a big guy wearing an earpiece who stops us. He doesn’t accept the badge, either, not just on good faith. He looks at it, really looks at it, and calls in Luke’s name.

  Only after he gets the okay from Cole, inside the suite down the hall, does he let us pass.

  “You’ll be safe here,” Luke promises.

  I know.

  I don’t know if I’ll be treated well, but I’ll be kept alive, and given the circumstances, that seems like something to be grateful for.

  The door to the suite opens before he knocks.

  Instead of my formidable brother-in-law, it’s his wife standing there.

  My sister Hailey, who hasn’t wanted anything to do with me in years.

  Her eyes are as big as saucers and her lips are pulled tight together, but she steps aside and swings the door wide for us.

  It’s more welcoming than I ever thought I’d get from her.

  “Hailey, Luke…”

  “We’ve met,” he says from behind me.

  “Right.” I stop inside the foyer and give my sister—the middle one, the very good one, the judging one—a small smile. “Hi.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Taylor.” She throws her arms around me as she growls in my ear. “What the fuck is going on?”

  “So much,” I whisper.

  From somewhere else in the suite I hear a squeal, then quick footsteps.

  “Incoming,” Hailey whispers back.

  I laugh as Ali plows into us. The little one, the sweet one, the smart one.

  And then there’s me.

  The fuck-up. The slutty one. The one in danger, now and before and maybe always.