"Did you go for a walk on the beach? Any chance anybody drove by, saw you jogging, maybe waved?"
A low throbbing began in the base of Lily's skull as she shook her head. "No. And that's enough questions. I want to know why you're asking them."
He hesitated, exchanging another of those glances with Brandon. Then, with a low sigh, he admitted, "Because a long-distance truck driver from North Carolina was murdered and dismembered in a Pennsylvania hotel sometime between midnight Sunday and Tuesday morning. The coroner hasn't given us the time of death yet."
Not understanding what that could possibly have to do with her, she mumbled, "That's very sad, but what does it have to do with me?"
He thrust a hand through his thick hair, more visibly anxious than she'd seen him since those first days after he'd rescued her.
"Lily," he finally informed her, never looking away as he hit her with the rest of it, "your badge was found clutched in his bloody hand."
Jackie Stokes had known for weeks that something was up with her boss and her coworker Brandon Cole. But she hadn't even begun to imagine it might have anything to do with Lily Fletcher, her late friend. Now, though, she was beginning to wonder. Because today,
Brandon and Wyatt were both gone, and Lily was all anyone was talking about.
"Can you friggin' believe this?" Kyle Mulrooney snapped as he-as all of them-watched Tom Anspaugh and one of his goons dig through the box of personal effects from Lily's desk. They’d kept her things, since there was no one to give them to. And Anspaugh apparently knew it. He'd also demanded access to case files from any investigation she'd worked on.
"It's like watching a gorilla sort through a china tea set," Alec Lambert murmured. "The destruction doesn't matter, just finding whatever it is he's looking for."
Wasn't that the truth?
Anspaugh had shown up here a couple of hours ago, claiming the team-the Black CATs, as they thought of themselves these days-needed to hand over every bit of information they had on Lily Fletcher. When Jackie, who was again acting as supervisor in Wyatt's absence, demanded to know why, Anspaugh had snarled something obscene. He'd then handed her the phone, asking her if she wanted to call Deputy Director Crandall and question him directly, or if she just wanted to get out of his way.
She'd called, of course. Screw Anspaugh. Lousy little scumbag. None of them had ever gotten over how badly he'd messed things up with his Lovesprettyboys investigation, letting one of his own agents, as well as poor, sweet Lily, pay the ultimate price.
But Crandall had confirmed the other agent's story. Jackie had been told to give the man full cooperation. Considering Anspaugh had gotten slapped pretty hard over the balls-up in Virginia, she had to wonder just what it was he had that Crandall wanted so badly.
Maybe Wyatt knew something. Crandall seemed to think so, because he'd ordered her to get her boss in from wherever he'd gone off to and have him report to the DD's office by the end of the day.
Good luck with that. Wyatt was in Maine-he'd told her that much when she'd called him to tell him what was happening. And he didn't seem to give a damn that Crandall wanted him back.
"What's going on?"
Christian Mendez, who'd been with them for about a month now, walked into the office, having just returned from interviewing a witness in a murder-for-hire case they were investigating. The agent, with his sultry Latin looks, was good at talking to witnesses. As good as Alec had been before he'd gone so gaga over his new fiancee and seemed to lose any interest in flirting with other women.
Not that Christian flirted. Oh, no. He just steamed up a room enough with all that dark intensity to get any woman talking, if only to get him to stick around a little longer. If she were ten years younger and, of course, single, he would definitely have been someone she would want to keep around.
Good God, it wasn't always easy being one of only two women to work among several of the hottest men she'd ever seen. Even a happily married, settled wife and mom could occasionally be overcome by all the sexy testosterone heating up these offices.
"What are they looking for?" Christian prompted when no one answered his original question.
"We dunno. Dickhead's going through all of Lily's things," said Kyle, not looking away from the atrocity taking place in the next room. "Lily Fletcher's."
Christian probably hadn't needed the clarification. Jackie imagined that in the month he'd been here, the murdered agent's name had been mentioned a hundred times.
"Why?"
"That's what we'd all like to know." That came from Dean Taggert, whose brow was pulled down over a fierce glare cast directly at Anspaugh's back.
All of them were huddled in the hallway outside the conference room, which also served as the team's only storage closet. Boxes and files were stacked in all four corners, and Anspaugh was busily sticking his nose into every one of them. It was all Jackie could do to remain calm when the thickheaded bastard took the framed photograph of Lily's sister and her boy, which used to sit on Lily's desk, and slid it into a plastic evidence bag.
"Did you say they're investigating the Lily Fletcher case?" a woman's voice said. Anna Delaney joined them, having just returned from going over the ACES report on the computer used in the hit-man case.
"Not sure what the hell they're investigating," Jackie mumbled, not wanting to go into yet another explanation as every member of the team came through the door. She was too busy watching Anspaugh, making sure he didn't try to abscond with evidence or confidential files. Or any personal item of Lily's that he could never justify touching, much less taking.
"Maybe it's because of the hearing."
Jackie turned her head toward Anna. So did all the others.
"What hearing?"
The other IT specialist, as efficient and self-confident as Lily had been unsure and quiet, who occupied Lily's chair and did her former job, lifted a brow. "You hadn't heard about the hearing? It's been on the news. I recognized the name immediately, of course, knowing the connection to Agent Fletcher and her family." She shook her head sadly. "Maybe it's just as well she didn't live to see the day."
Thoroughly distracted now, as was everyone else, Jackie stepped closer to the other woman and put a fist on her hip. "You know, I think you better start at the beginning and tell us exactly what it is you're talking about."
The color fell out of Lily's face in a rush, as if someone had pulled the plug on her every vein. Her mouth open in astonishment, she remained silent, having immediately grasped exactly what Wyatt was telling her.
Someone was trying to implicate her in a murder. Someone who had access to the FBI badge that had been lost when she'd been attacked all those months ago. Someone known as Lovesprettyboys. Wyatt had been tipped off to the situation by an old friend in Crandall's office and had immediately gotten Brandon to come up to Maine with him to see Lily.
"Tiger Lily, baby, are you okay?" Brandon scooted his chair closer, putting his arm around Lily's shoulders, his other hand on her clenched ones. He appeared ready to draw her into a comforting hug.
Wyatt suddenly had the urge to pick Brandon up by the front of his shirt and toss him through the patio door.
He resisted.
He had no business getting bent out of shape because another man's hands were on her, another man's arms about to draw her into an embrace. No reason for his body to tense and his breathing to grow labored just because Brandon was whispering soft, consoling words to her, treating her as delicately as a paper-thin seashell that sometimes washed up on the beach below. One that would break apart simply if touched the wrong way.
No business at all.
Yet knowing that didn't stop his temples from pounding and his teeth from slamming together in his mouth.
Then something surprising happened. Lily ducked out from under Brandon's arm, pulled back from him physically, almost imperceptibly shifting her chair an inch or two away. Though still pale, she didn't look distraught, or soft. In fact, her flinty-hard eyes were glued
on Wyatt, any signs of dismay having vanished.
"What else?" she asked. "I know there's more."
Wyatt couldn't prevent a slight smile. Maybe it wasn't so surprising. Not from the Lily he now knew.
He didn't try to spare her. He didn't need to. "It's not the first murder."
"I only had one badge."
"Three other men have been brutally murdered in the past six weeks," he explained baldly. "All were lured to motel rooms by someone promising an encounter with a child."
Her eyes drifted closed for a moment, her lashes sooty black against her cheeks. That would, of course, hit her where it hurt, far more than the news that someone might be setting her up for murder.
"We don't have to go into all the details right now, do we?" asked Brandon, shooting Wyatt an annoyed look.
"Yes, you do," she said, opening her eyes again, calm and in control again, brave and forthright. Not to mention utterly magnificent.
Wyatt threw off the thought. "Each case had small clues, minor things, that pointed to you. The names of the nonexistent children were your loved ones' names. Their supposed backgrounds reflected your own. The e-mails worded like some of the communication you'd engaged in with 'Peter Pan' on that last case-the unsub used the term loves pretty boys.' It was all there."
"Making it appear I was still alive, out there, having turned into a vigilante, a rogue agent getting my revenge on anyone like the man who attacked me?"
"Exactly. And a flower was left at each scene. Last week's was a tiger lily."
She didn't flinch, didn't even suck in a breath of surprise. "Last week."
He nodded once, knowing how quickly her mind worked.
"Last week, right before you showed up here to check up on me?"
Brandon interrupted. "You have to believe us, Lily-we never actually suspected you. Not for one second. Neither of us thought you were capable of hurting anyone, of even considering doing something so violent."
She didn't even glance at the younger man; her attention remained strictly on Wyatt. Her brow lifted, her chin tilting up in challenge. "Is that true, Wyatt? You never suspected it of me, not even for one second?"
They had come way too far for him to lie. Besides, he didn't lie. Not if he could help it. Certainly not to people he cared about.
"Well?" she prodded.
Brandon shot him a warning glance, obviously still worried about Lily's fragile state.
Fragile? Maybe once. Not anymore.
Though the situation was incredibly grave, Wyatt couldn't help lifting one side of his mouth in a half smile. "Maybe for a second. Or two."
Lily didn't react for a moment, and then she actually grinned in return. "Thanks."
"You're welcome."
At that moment, Brandon got it. He saw. Wyatt almost felt sorry for the younger man, who suddenly sagged back in his chair, his jaw unhinged, surprise filling his face. He supposed it would be pretty shocking to realize you knew absolutely nothing about the woman you fancied yourself in love with.
Wyatt knew her, though. He knew her very well. And liked her all the more for it.
"So your little visit last weekend, you were investigating me, right?"
"Right."
"Seeing if I, poor little lost Lily, was a ruthless, coldblooded killer." She didn't seem the least bit distressed by the idea. "All those conversations, those questions about whether I'd ever left here, about whether I could seek revenge. They were part of your investigation."
"Exactly."
"And?" she asked, almost beaming with approval that he had taken off the kid gloves. "What did you decide?"
He dropped all hints of amusement. Wyatt leaned forward, until his hands slid across the table to within a few inches of her own clenched ones, and his reply held absolutely no doubt. "That you're innocent. Not because you're not strong enough to do such a thing, but because you're so strong, you can rise above the base, human urge to."
Their stares locked. Held. In her blue eyes he saw the full breadth of her feelings-fear, worry, gratitude. And something more. A certain warmth, an intimacy that had been building between them for months, that they'd both fought so hard to ignore.
There would be no more ignoring it. Lily's seeking, searching stare promised that.
Unable to do anything else, Wyatt returned the stare, silently affirming it as well.
"Thanks again," she finally said.
"You're welcome again."
After another long stare, Wyatt glanced at the third person in the room, whom they'd almost forgotten. Brandon was watching them both intently. Though his mouth was slightly pulled down at the corners in a frown, he didn't appear angry. Merely a little disappointed. Because he'd seen the truth-that something was happening between Wyatt and Lily. Maybe it hadn't happened yet, but it was only a matter of time. Even Wyatt had begun to acknowledge that, if only in the deepest recesses of his brain.
"Thank you, too, Brandon," she said, finally turning her face toward the other man. "I really appreciate everything you've done."
The young man, sometimes a hothead, sometimes a computer geek, merely nodded. "I just want you to be happy."
"I will be. As soon as I get past this." She addressed Wyatt. "Give me the rest."
"Up until yesterday, nobody else had put these cases together. They were in three different states-the feds hadn't been called in, strictly local police. This was something only Brandon and I were investigating."
"I imagine the badge put an end to that."
"Oh, hell, yeah," Brandon said, having regained his usual cheery energy. "I don't know who you wronged in another life, babe, but the call ended up getting put through to Anspaugh."
She groaned audibly.
"And he is on the warpath, with the full support of the deputy director's office. He's going to use every resource he's got to find out if you survived."
Wyatt watched as Lily put a hand over her eyes and rubbed wearily. He honestly had to wonder whether she knew what she was in for. How ugly this was likely to get before it was over.
"If he finds out I'm alive, Anspaugh will try to crucify me for these murders."
Okay. She knew.
"It's not Anspaugh I'm worried about," Wyatt told her. "He might try to build a case, and he might even take you into custody. The bigger problem is the person behind all of this."
"Ahh." She wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing her hands up and down on her bare arms, as if suddenly chilled. "That's what he wants, right? To draw me out? He's got himself convinced I'm still alive, and was using these murders as a way to get the authorities to lead him right to me." Her voice lowered a bit. "To finish the job."
Wyatt shook his head, silently telling her she could trust him to make sure that didn't happen. He was about to open his mouth to say so. Before he could, a ringing interrupted.
"Sorry" Brandon said, tugging his cell phone out of his pocket. He glanced at the caller ID screen and frowned. "It's Jackie again. I asked her to update me on what was going on with Anspaugh and his goon squad searching our offices. I wonder if she and the rest of the team have found out about Lily's badge being at the crime scene yet."
"Don't say anything if she hasn't," Wyatt instructed.
Nodding, Brandon answered the call.
As Wyatt watched, Lily sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, as if truly surprised. At first, he figured it was because of the thought of Anspaugh actually investigating her. Then he wondered if it was simply hearing Jackie's name, knowing she was on the other end of that phone call. Of course she knew Jackie Stokes and the others were out there, living their lives, doing their jobs. But there was always that distance. Now her old life was intruding, a voice from the past speaking to a person who sat right beside her.
Brandon appeared to notice her discomfort. He rose, covered the mouthpiece with his hand, and murmured, "I'll take it in the other room."
"Be careful what you say," Wyatt replied, his voice just as low. Jackie might suspect the two of them we
re together, working on the mystery case she'd confronted him about a couple of days ago. Still, the less she knew, the better. For her sake, for the sake of all the rest of the team, plausible deniability was the way to go.
Lily reached for her half-empty water bottle and brought it to her full lips. Tilting her head back, she drank deeply. Every swallow emphasized the slender lines of her vulnerable neck, the smoothness of her supple skin. Jesus, was she really going to be hit with yet another nightmare by way of a murder investigation? How much did one woman have to endure in a lifetime?
She apparently noticed his sudden worry, because as she lowered the bottle, she said,” I’m fine. I'll get through this, just like I've gotten through everything else." Her voice lowered. "As long as I know I have people I can count on."
"You know you do."
"Okay. So maybe it's best that I just go in, give myself up. Now that I know the unsub's looking for me, that he's killed other people and left evidence that can be used to track him down, there's really not much point in me hiding anymore, is there?"
The very idea stunned him. "There's more reason than ever for you to stay here. You think I'm going to let you go back, watch Anspaugh make a big production out of bringing you in, then leave you exposed and unprotected for a psychopath to target?"
"What do you suggest, that I just stay here? Continue to let other people fight my battles?"
He opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, Brandon did.
"No, Lily. I don't think you're going to be able to stay here. I don't think you'll even consider it."
Wyatt and Lily jerked their attention toward the doorway, in which Brandon stood. He was tucking his phone into his pocket, staring at Lily's pretty face, his frown deep, his expression troubled.
"What is it?" Wyatt asked, slowly rising.
Lily rose as well.
"It's Jesse Tyrone Boyd," Brandon said, drawing out each syllable of the hated name, which Wyatt immediately recognized. His sympathy rang in his tone and shone in the sadness of his eyes. "His conviction has been overturned and he's been released from prison."
Black at Heart Page 14
