by Lisa Harris
An eerie stillness greeted her, but someone had been here. A note lay on the rear dash attached to a brick. Jordan stared at the handwritten words.
You’ll never find her alive
The elevator door slid open behind her, jerking her attention away from the car. Jordan turned around as a man wearing scrubs stepped out, then stopped. She lowered her weapon to her side and showed him her badge.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“Get back in the elevator.”
The man backed up into the elevator and the doors slid shut.
Something clattered behind her. She spun around and started walking forward. Shadows danced along the edges of the wall, but no one emerged. She had to find whoever was out there.
Jordan ran toward one of the emergency call boxes located throughout the garage, quickly calling Sam back at the same time.
“Sam—”
“What’s going on? We got cut off.”
“Where are you?” she said.
“Heading back to the bureau. Why? What’s going on?”
“I’m in the parking garage outside the hospital. I just had a brick thrown through my car window. It’s him, Sam. He left a note telling me I wouldn’t find her alive. The Angel Abductor. He’s here.”
“What? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, but I haven’t been able to find him yet.”
“Stay where you are. I can be there in five . . . maybe ten minutes.”
“He’ll be long gone by then, if he’s not gone already. I’m headed for the emergency call box to get the garage locked down, then I’m going to start looking for him myself. You have to get uniforms here to secure the hospital.”
“I’ll take care of all that, but Jordan, you need to be careful.”
“I will. I promise. I’ve got to go.”
Jordan shoved her phone into her back pocket just as she reached the emergency call box. She pushed the button.
“This is Special Agent Jordan Lambert with the FBI,” she said as soon as security answered. “We’ve got a possible murder suspect in the garage. I need the entire parking garage shut down, including the elevators. I’ve got backup on its way to commence a systematic search of the entire facility.”
“Wait a minute. Who are you?”
“You can argue with me, but in the meantime there’s a serial killer in your garage. You can either be a hero or let a killer escape.”
“Whoa . . . okay. I’m shutting down all exits now.”
Jordan hung up and started back toward her car. Chances are, whoever had thrown the brick was already long gone. But if he was still here, she was going to find him.
She slowed down every few feet, checking under each car she passed. She hadn’t heard a car leave this level after the brick was thrown, which meant he was probably on foot. That significantly lowered the chances of catching him. She eyed one of the surveillance camera’s red light. If they couldn’t find him, maybe they’d get lucky and have video footage of him.
Three minutes later, metro police swarmed the building and began a systematic search of the hospital and parking garage. When Sam and Michaels showed up fifteen minutes later, the garage had been cleared, with no sign of their suspect.
“Jordan?” Sam strode across the parking area with Michaels to where she was talking to one of the officers. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said, excusing herself from the conversation. “The guy’s long gone, but the Crime Scene Unit’s seeing if they can get any fingerprints from my car. They’re also analyzing the note, and we’ve got a team going over the garage’s video footage. I’m hoping we can get something from that.”
But she knew there would be no fingerprints on the brick or the note. There would be no evidence that would lead to their killer. Not if it really had been him. He was too smart for that.
“What are you thinking?” Sam asked.
“That none of this makes sense,” she said. “I’m wondering why he would do something so juvenile, like throwing a brick through my car window. Why take the risk of getting caught? If I’d left a few seconds sooner, I would have seen him, or if another car had come along . . . it just doesn’t make sense.”
“But he’s not normal,” Michaels said. “You’ve got to have profiles on people like this. If he was normal, he wouldn’t be out killing young girls. You said a while back he was becoming bolder. Maybe it’s not enough for him anymore that he just gets away with what he’s doing.”
“Maybe he’s rubbing our noses in the fact that he’s winning,” she replied. “That would fit his psych profile.”
Miles Duncan, the TBI intelligence analyst she’d asked to check the video footage, came up to them. “Sorry to interrupt, but you told me to let you know as soon as we found something.”
“What have you got?” she asked.
“We found your guy on the hospital security cameras, but the footage isn’t going to help us identify him. He wore a hood, and he knew how to avoid the cameras.”
“Figures,” Sam said.
Jordan didn’t even try to mask her disappointment. She was afraid that if there was any chance of saving Marissa, they’d just missed it.
“But we were able to clip together his movements,” the agent said, holding up her laptop. “Here’s where he entered the garage on foot through the south entrance. Seven minutes later he hit your car. Another minute, and he was gone from the building.”
Jordan groaned. A lot of good that did them now.
“We’re tapping into city surveillance,” Duncan said, “but it isn’t going to be easy to find him.”
“Expand your search and look for a gold-colored Honda Accord,” Jordan said, “and let me know as soon as you find something.”
19
Hotel lobby
3:45 PM
Garrett parked the car outside the ritzy hotel, wondering for the umpteenth time if he’d made the right decision by showing up. But just like when they’d been dating, Sabrina had always been persuasive. Today, though, he wasn’t sure why she’d called—or even why she was in Nashville, for that matter—but he did know he wasn’t in the mood for one of her antics.
Modern country music pulsed through the speaker system as he walked into the hotel lounge adjacent to the lobby. She was sitting in one of the cozy chairs in the corner, wearing a form-fitting gray dress with tall black boots and perfectly matched accessories. Perfectly manicured nails, perfect brows, flawless makeup . . . Most people had thought he was crazy when he quit the firm, but that world—and it included Sabrina—was what he’d tried to escape five years ago.
Funny how he couldn’t remember that last time he’d seen her. Probably some formal gathering at his parents’ upscale home outside Memphis. It seemed like a lifetime ago that he’d asked her to marry him. Looking back, he wasn’t sure what he’d seen in her. Thankfully they hadn’t gone through with the marriage. That would have ruined him in the end.
“Sabrina . . .” He walked up to the table and forced a smile. “My mom didn’t mention you were coming to Nashville.”
“I didn’t realize she kept track of me.”
“She always had a soft spot for you. She updates me on how you’re doing every once in a while.”
“It’s been a long time.” She motioned to the empty seat next to her. “Can I order you a drink?”
“No.” Garrett hesitated, then slid into the chair. “You’re not drinking again, are you?”
She shrugged her shoulders and stared at the glass she was holding. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
Except she’d never been able to handle her liquor, and he was sure nothing had changed.
“You always were a bit dull.” Sabrina waved at the bartender. “Can we have a coffee here? Black.”
“I’m fine,” he countered, then decided not to make a big deal of the gesture. “I meant it when I said I couldn’t stay. You said it was urgent.”
“It is.” She shot him one of her smiles and grabbed his hand,
lacing their fingers together. “I can’t believe how much I’ve missed you.”
“Sabrina—” He pulled his hand back, immediately regretting his decision to come. What had he thought would come of this? Because be knew her far too well. Knew she was used to getting her way.
But not this time.
This time the only thing he was going to do was hear her out and leave. And he really shouldn’t have given her that much.
“I knew you’d get all up in a huff if I said that,” she said, “but it’s true.”
“Just tell me what’s wrong.”
“Does it always have to be straight to the point? Why can’t we spend some time catching up first? It’s been so long—”
“Because I haven’t slept, I’m on a case, and I’m tired.”
“And grouchy.”
He frowned. She was right, but that didn’t change how he felt.
“So what is it that’s got you so tense?” she asked. “Another case?”
“I’m sorry, Sabrina. I can’t talk about my work.”
“Funny. You couldn’t talk about your cases when you were a lawyer with all that client privilege stuff, and now as a detective, or agent, or whatever you are, you still can’t talk about them.”
“Sabrina—”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s still good to see you. We should have met and caught up a long time ago.” She looked up at him. “Sometimes I regret our not going through with the wedding. I still think we could have been good together.”
“If I remember correctly, you’re the one who broke things off with me.”
“Only because I was hoping it would shock you into realizing what you were about to lose.” She took a drink, then laughed as she sat back in her chair. “But don’t worry, Garrett. I didn’t call you to try and get you back. I’m engaged.” She held up her hand, displaying what had to be at least a carat-and-a-half diamond. How had he missed that?
“Really?”
“You sound surprised. To a lot of people I’m the perfect catch, in case you didn’t know.”
“I didn’t mean it that way. Congratulations.”
The bartender slid a cup of coffee in front of him, then walked away.
“It has been five years, Garrett. You didn’t expect me to join a nunnery, did you?”
“Of course not.” He took a sip of the coffee and burned the tip of his tongue. “I’m just surprised my mother didn’t tell me the good news.”
“She doesn’t know. Charles just asked me last night. We haven’t made the announcement yet. In fact, you’re the first person I’ve told.”
“And the next day you’re asking to meet with your ex-fiancé. What is Charles going to think about that?”
“He knows all about you, Garrett, and thankfully he isn’t the jealous type. But what about you? You’re not wearing a ring, but I’m going to assume you’re seeing someone else?”
“No.”
“Hmm . . .” She stared at him until he wanted to crawl under the chair he was sitting on. “I could always tell when you were lying.”
“I’m not lying.”
“Then if you’re not seeing her yet, you wish you were. Who is she?”
Jordan wasn’t someone he was ready to tell anyone about. Especially his ex-fiancée.
“Listen, Sabrina, I’m working a case, and while it’s nice to see you, I don’t have time for an interrogation. You told me there was a problem. If I can help, I will, but that’s it. Nothing more.”
“And it certainly shouldn’t be about something personal, right?”
Garrett ignored the comment and took another sip of his coffee.
“Fine. Charles is here on business and brought me with him. But I came to see you.”
“I still don’t understand.”
“It’s Brandon.”
“Your brother?”
Sabrina nodded.
That hadn’t been what he was expecting. The last time he’d seen Brandon, her brother had been sixteen, maybe seventeen. He’d spent high school in and out of trouble, getting away with far too much, and never taking responsibility.
“What kind of mess did he get himself into this time?” he asked.
Sabrina let out a pout. “Don’t just assume he’s in trouble.”
“I might be an investigator, but trust me, it doesn’t take much to deduce that one.”
“Fine. He made a few dumb choices.”
“And . . .”
“He needs a good lawyer.”
“In case you forgot, I’m not a lawyer anymore, Sabrina.”
“I know, but I thought maybe you could put in a good word with your father, so he’d take on his case. I can’t get past his secretary, who keeps telling me he’s not taking on new clients, but I don’t believe her. And it’s obviously not a matter of money. My family can pay.”
“I’m not sure I’m the one you should be talking to. If you’ve forgotten,” Garrett said, “I’ve never exactly been on good terms with my father. He’s still convinced I threw my life away when I left the firm.”
“You can understand why, can’t you? You had everything. A prestigious job on the fast track to being a partner. A half-million-dollar house in East Memphis . . . and me.”
Garrett frowned. Somehow she always steered the conversation back to herself. “None of that was enough.”
“Including the deal your father wanted to make with my father?” she asked.
“What they wanted to do was illegal.”
“Not technically.”
“That shouldn’t matter. It was wrong.”
“Garrett, please. Forget all of that. I’m serious. I need your help. You’re father has a track record with difficult cases. I need him.”
“You could talk to my mother.” Garrett thought about asking what her brother had done, then decided he had no desire to hear the details of the case. “She has a lot of pull with my father.”
“Maybe I will. I haven’t seen her for a while. But I need you to call her first. Give her a heads up. Will you at least do that for me?”
He nodded, hoping he didn’t regret getting involved. Sabrina had always been hard to say no to.
“One last thing before I go.” She swallowed the rest of her drink, then set the glass back down on the table. “I just want you to know that I really am sorry for what happened between us.”
He brushed away the comment. She wasn’t the only one. They both had things they regretted. “It was a long time ago, Sabrina. Forget it.”
“No . . . because I mean it. I said a lot of things I shouldn’t have.”
He’d put the past behind him and had no interest in dredging it up.
“Okay . . . just so you know.” She stood up, then bent down and kissed him on the cheek. “See you around, Garrett.”
Then she walked away.
Garrett swallowed the last of his coffee, paid the bill, then walked out of the hotel. He glanced at his watch as he walked to his car. He had about twenty minutes to get back to the bureau for his interview with Jason Fisher. Twenty minutes to get his mind back on his job. Because Sabrina had been right about one thing.
Jordan.
He’d been a fool all these years. No matter how many times he told himself he wasn’t in love with her anymore, he knew it wasn’t true.
He wanted them to be together. For them to pick up where they’d left off. Her living so far away made pursuing a relationship with her complicated, but if he were honest, he didn’t care. He never should have let her walk out of his life.
He had no idea how she was going to respond, but before she left this time, he was going to tell her the truth. When he’d kissed her after their walk on the bridge, he’d convinced himself they’d been caught up in the emotions of her losing her mom. Nothing more.
But he’d never know how she felt unless he spoke with her. He might regret making himself vulnerable, but he’d regret it more if he didn’t say anything.
He pulled his phone from his pocket. Now m
ight not be the time for a discussion about their relationship, but he did need to update her on Fisher.
“Jordan,” Garrett said once she’d answered. He put his keys into the ignition but didn’t start the car. “Fisher agreed to come in. I’m meeting him back at headquarters in twenty minutes.”
Her response was barely audible against the background noise on the line.
“Jordan . . . I can barely hear you.” He upped the volume on his phone. “You sound like you’re underwater.”
“Just a second . . . Sorry. Is this better?”
“Yeah, I can hear you now. What’s going on?”
“I’m in a parking garage, and not only is the reception spotty, but noise echoes like crazy.”
He rested his hand against the steering wheel. “Sounds as if you’re having a convention there. Is everything okay?”
“Yes.” A full five seconds passed before she continued. “But I just got a message from Marissa’s abductor.”
“What do you mean, a message?”
She gave him the CliffsNotes version about what had just happened and Garrett felt his gut clench. This guy had already killed three girls, maybe more. Why would he all of a sudden threaten Jordan? This situation could have ended a whole lot worse than a brick shattering her car window.
“Listen,” he said, “I can be there in about ten minutes—”
“Forget it. There’s nothing you can do here. Nothing either of us can do, unfortunately.”
Maybe she was right, but another question loomed in the forefront.
“What if Fisher is our guy? Is it a coincidence that I just called him about coming in for questioning? I’m not sure how he would have known where you are, but if it is him, he would have time to hit your car before meeting me.”
“It’s possible,” she said.
“But you still think Fisher’s not our guy.”
“I honestly don’t know. But maybe I should be there with you when you talk to him. I’d like to see how he reacts to being questioned.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. Sam and Michaels can finish up here. I’ll get a ride back to headquarters and meet you there.”
20
4:28 PM
