Tainted Mind

by Schultz, Tamsen

  “Why?” Wyatt asked.

  “Because of the sexual nature of the crimes,” Vivienne answered. “I don't think this is a parent/child thing, not with the kind of rape we saw with Rebecca. I think he has some sort of identification with the victims as women. And he's probably an adult around the same age, give or take ten years.”

  Ian took in the information and forced himself to be open, to listen to Vivienne, to her experience. But it was overwhelming. How in the world was he, with his small-town force, supposed to solve this kind of case? Then again, there was always the FBI. He could call them in, and with Vivienne as his backup, he knew they would respond.

  By unspoken agreement, everyone in the room moved to implement this new plan, looking through over three decades of missing persons reports for women born during those two years. But Vivienne came toward Ian and met his gaze.

  As if she'd read his mind, she spoke. “We can call in the FBI, Ian, and they'll send people. Good people. But they'll probably hire me anyway. I'm not saying don't do it, because I think at some point, we're going to need to. But I am saying don't discount yourself and your team. You have me, and Nick, too. Use us to get us as far as we can go and then we can call for help. It's not as though we don't have the resources. We do.”

  “What if someone else dies while we're spinning our wheels?” His biggest fear. What if pride kept him from calling in the big guns and another woman died? There was enough death on his hands; he didn't want any more.

  “We're not spinning our wheels, Ian. If I thought my colleagues in Quantico could do this better or faster than we can, I wouldn't hesitate to call them in. But I'm not convinced they can. I know what their case load is, Ian.”

  He ran a hand over his face and through his hair then crossed his arms over his chest. “I can't take that chance, Vivienne.”

  He could feel her studying him, debating what to do next. He knew she wanted him to believe he could lead his team through this. But he just wasn't there; in his mind, the risk was too high.

  “How about this? Tomorrow morning we'll call my colleague in the FBI behavioral science group. We can run through everything with him and see what he has to say. He's a good guy and will give you his honest opinion.”

  Ian looked down at her, searching her face. He wanted to feel good about the fact that she believed in him. But this was big; these were the lives of unknown numbers of women. If someone could do the job better than he could, they should.

  “Why are you pushing?” he asked.

  Vivienne pursed her lips and looked away for a moment. Her gaze landed on the window but he got the sense that she wasn't seeing what was out there. Finally, she looked back.

  “Just trust me. All I'm asking is for you not to call the FBI in tonight. To wait to talk to John tomorrow. And after you talk to John, then you can decide whether you want to bring them in.”

  “Won't it be too late at that point? I mean, if I talk to him, we'll be discussing not just a serial killer, but one we are pretty sure has crossed state lines. Won't he have to come in at that point?”

  “Just talk to him tomorrow.”

  Again, Ian searched her eyes for some answer. But all he saw there was a question: would he trust her for this little bit of time? He glanced at the clock and noticed how late it was. Even if he called them tonight, the likelihood of them doing anything before tomorrow wasn't high. He looked back at Vivienne, whose gaze hadn't left his face. He sighed. Tonight, tomorrow, it wouldn't make a difference. He nodded his agreement.

  “Thank you,” she said, her voice soft. He wasn't sure what she was saying thanks for, but he nodded again.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  “And a little tired, and I could use a shower.”

  He smiled at the image. “Why don't you head back to my house? I'll finish things up here and then meet you there. I'm scheduled for patrol tonight, though, so I'll be out from eleven to seven.”

  She nodded then turned to say her goodbyes to the team. Daniel and Nick opted to leave with her. Within five minutes, the three were gone. Ian stood at the window and, for a long time after they'd disappeared from sight, he watched the streets and the growing shadows.

  * * *

  Vivi pulled up alongside Ian's house and saw a dog bound out of the woods. She paused before opening her door, watching as the pup danced and spun toward the car wearing a goofy dog grin. He had a thick, gray coat and when he approached her window she noticed his yellow wolf-like eyes. If it hadn't been for his huge ears that stuck straight out at right angles, the lock of wayward fur on his head, and the grin, she might have been worried.

  But when he finally settled, the dog sat beside her car door with his tail slapping against the ground. He stood as she opened her door and climbed out of the car, his enormous tail wagging his body. Vivi gave him a friendly scratch, wondering whose pet he was, then headed for her trunk to grab her bag.

  She had just slipped the bag's strap over her shoulder when she heard Ian's Jeep approaching. Surprised he was home so soon, she waited. Obviously curious himself, the dog plopped himself at her feet, or rather, on her feet and waited with her, his tail making an occasional sweep of the ground.

  As soon as Ian climbed out of his car, the pup jumped up and barreled toward him.

  “Hey, Rooster,” Ian said, bending down to give the dog a good rub. “How's my boy?”

  “Is he yours?”

  Ian looked up. “Yeah. My folks watch him when I have long days, but he's mine. Rooster, meet Vivienne. Vivienne, this is Rooster.” He stood and walked toward her.

  “Rooster?”

  “He hardly ever barks now, but when I first got him, when he was a puppy, he used to howl every morning when the sun came up.”

  Vivi smiled. Given the thick fur that stuck up on his head, the name was fitting in more ways than one. “How old?”

  “He's not quite eight months old.”

  “He's going to be a big boy,” she said.

  Ian inclined his head. “So, my mom is here,” he added.

  Vivi blinked. Her bag dropped back into the trunk. “Your mom is here?” she repeated, looking around for a car she might have missed.

  “Yeah, she called and said she was going to walk over and drop off some food for me.”

  “I see.” Vaguely, Vivi noted that Rooster's head was bobbing between them as they spoke.

  “You don't want to meet my mom,” Ian said.

  She didn't. Not because she thought the woman was going to be mean or scary, but because it all seemed too sudden.

  “It's not that exactly,” she hedged.

  Seeing him standing across from her, arms crossed, feet apart, Vivi knew he was trying to figure her out.

  “If last night hadn't happened, would you still be hesitant to meet her?” he asked.

  Vivi shook her head. “No, but last night did happen, and, well…” her voice trailed off.

  “She's not scary, Vivienne. She's actually pretty nice.”

  “I'm sure she's lovely.”

  “Then?”

  She sighed. “Look, what it comes down to is, if there isn't a dead body involved when I meet someone, I'm socially awkward.” And she was. She never knew what to do at parties or bars, so she rarely, if ever, went to them. She was good with colleagues and family, with them she was comfortable. With others, well, that was another story.

  “You're perfectly social.” As if to support his owner's statement, Rooster stood and nudged Vivi's hand, his tail showing his excitement.

  “I'd like to point out that we met over a dead body,” she countered, absently rubbing Rooster's head fluff.

  Ian sighed. “Come on, let's go.” He grabbed for her bag with one hand and reached for her hand with the other. She let him take her hand, but snatched her bag strap back.

  “If you're going to make me meet your mother, I am not going to meet her carrying an overnight bag into your house.”

  Vivi knew women who could waltz in like they owne
d the place, but that kind of behavior wasn't part of her makeup. Her parents—her very Catholic parents—and family had always drilled in respect for elders, and while they weren't blind to the shenanigans all the kids got into, there was a firm divide between the things you shared with your parents and elders and those you did not. Sex lives fell firmly into the latter. And walking into Ian's house with an overnight bag was just as good as walking in and telling the woman to her face that she was sleeping with her son.

  Ian gave her a look before shutting her trunk, sans bag, and dragging her into his house, Rooster trailing in their wake. Again, Vivi had a fleeting thought that she should know how to handle this better. But the truth of the matter was, there were too many unknowns, about her life, about Ian's, and about their place in each other's lives. With a start, Vivi realized she wasn't too unlike Ian and his ever-present plans. She didn't call them plans, but evidently, she preferred things in black and white.

  When they entered the kitchen through the back door off the laundry room, all Vivi could see was an open refrigerator. Ian anchored her by his side and spoke.

  “Hi, mom.”

  “Oh hi, honey,” came a surprised but pleasant voice from behind the door. “I brought you some chili and a few other things. Oh, hello.” A form appeared as the door shut. Vivi didn't miss how Ian's mother's eyes went from Ian to her and then back again.

  “Mom, this is Dr. Vivienne DeMarco. Vivienne, this is my mom, Ann MacAllister.”

  “Dr. DeMarco. It's nice to meet you. Please call me Ann.”

  “Mrs. MacAllister. It's nice to meet you, please, it's Vivi.” They both spoke at the same time, then smiled. Vivi stepped forward and the two women shook hands.

  “So, you're leading the charge to solve these horrible deaths?” Ann asked.

  “I'm helping Ian in every way I can,” Vivi corrected. Ian's mom had the same soft green eyes as her son, and they darted between Ian and Vivi, landing on their intertwined hands more than once. His mother's hair, though now mostly white, held shades of brown and red, like Ian's, and had the same thick curl to it. Ann was shorter than Vivi, rounded with age, and, like her son, carried an air of practicality about her. And not that Vivi had any doubts about Ann's character, but it was nice to see that she also loved dogs, which was obvious when Rooster headed to her side and she gave him a good, long scratch behind his ears with a familiar gesture.

  Ann gave a small smile. “Well, I'm glad he has the help. It's such an awful thing. Nothing like this has ever happened here before.”

  The cynic in Vivi suspected more had happened in this area than people knew or admitted, but she nodded in agreement.

  “Anyway,” Ann said on a breath, “there is food in the fridge. I can take Rooster again if you like. And don't forget Brianna and Chris will be here tomorrow night. They'll both want to see you if you can spare the time?”

  Ian wagged his head and looked at Vivi. “Brianna is my sister and Chris is my nephew. They live in New York City and are visiting for a few days,” he explained. Turning back to his mom, he answered. “You can leave Rooster here. I may drop him off tomorrow, though. And I'll make time for Chris. Brianna, we'll see,” he added with good-natured affection. Ann rolled her eyes.

  “Well, it was nice to meet you, Vivi. I'll let you two get back to your evening.” When Ann's eyes fell again to her hand in Ian's, Vivi tried to pull away, but Ian tightened his hold.

  “Thanks, mom. We appreciate the food. And thanks for taking care of Rooster. I'll give you a call tomorrow about Chris.”

  At that, Ann bid them goodbye and disappeared out the door. Rooster followed her as far as the laundry room before turning back to the two of them as if to ask “what now?” Vivi turned to Ian.

  “That wasn't so bad, was it?” he asked, tugging her toward him and sliding his hands into her hair, pulling out her ponytail as he worked his way over her scalp. She tilted her head back to give him better access. Rooster ambled back into the room and sank to the floor.

  “I feel like I'm going to throw up.”

  He chuckled. “She's not that bad, it was fine.”

  Vivi let her head fall against his chest and, as she relaxed for the first time all day, she realized how tired she was. Ian held her close as he brushed a kiss across the top of her head.

  “I need to change out of my uniform. Then we can dig into some of the food she brought.”

  “What time do you have to go back out?” Her voice was muffled against his chest.

  “I don't. I rearranged the schedule a bit. I called in our part-time officers for most of the patrol work. Marcus, Wyatt, Carly, and I will take turns being backup, but none of us will be on patrol for the next few days. I wanted to keep everyone on this case. At least until we have a better idea of how far we're going to take it.”

  “Good call,” Vivi said. “They may not have the experience, but I think they did a good job today. Especially Carly.” They stood for a little while longer, enjoying the inertia, before she spoke again. “I smell like the lab. I need to shower.”

  “Now that's something I could get into.”

  Ian's arms had tightened around her and his voice was quiet but deep. Rooster rose and bumped against them as if he, too, wanted in on the embrace. One of Ian's hands dropped down to Rooster's head, but he kept the other firmly around Vivi. She smiled. “I'm sure you could get into it in more ways than one. But if you do, it might be a while before we eat. Just saying.”

  He smiled back. “Food is overrated.”

  CHAPTER 14

  SEVERAL HOURS LATER, Ian sat on his porch with Rooster at his side, watching the night. Vivienne was inside making a call to Lucas Rancuso. Ian wasn't sure what to make of that situation but trusted her to tell him what he needed to know.

  Rooster's head popped up at the same time Ian saw headlights cut up his driveway. On instinct, he felt for his weapon and came up short. In his effort to reintegrate into civilian society, Ian had become very intentional about leaving his weapon locked up for the night. He tried not to think about it too much—tried not to think about how vulnerable it made him feel. But especially at times like this—when he was going to have an unexpected visitor—it was hard.

  He stood and planted himself at the front of the porch as the car made its way toward him. It came to a halt and, even as his body tensed in anticipation, two laughing people, a man and a woman, spilled out. Rooster made a low sound in his throat—not really a growl, but not a fully committed bark either.

  Wrapped up in conversation, the two visitors seemed almost oblivious to Ian and his dog, though they would be seemingly hard to miss standing on the well-lit porch. From what he could see in the dim light, the man and woman looked to have the same color hair and same relative builds as each other. Their skin color was also similar, as was their bone structure. He'd peg them as siblings, but in the dark, it was hard to tell.

  The couple came to a stumbling halt at the bottom of his steps. Two sets of green eyes took him in. Then the woman smiled.

  “You must be Deputy Chief Ian MacAllister. We believe you're sleeping with our cousin.”

  Ian blinked. Rooster, the faux guard dog he was, was already doing his happy-to-have-visitors dance, waiting for Ian to open the screen door.

  The woman's smile widened as she linked her arm through the man's. “I'm Naomi and this is my twin, my younger twin, Brian. We're Vivi's cousins. On her dad's side.” She spoke as if that explained why they were on his doorstep, or even how they had found his house.

  The man grinned, an identical gesture to his sister's. “Yes, we're the younger, funner versions of Vivi,” he chimed in. “But then again, we're not burdened with IQs of 163 like Vivi, are we, Nano?” he joked.

  Naomi laughed. “Thank god, no. So, is she here?” She cocked her head to the side and gave him an expectant look.

  Rooster pressed his nose against the screen as Ian regarded the two for a long moment. Neither seemed at all bothered by his scrutiny.

  “
Vivienne,” he finally called over his shoulder.

  After a short wait, Vivienne appeared on the porch behind him, still carrying her cell. “Yeah?” He felt her pause, then take another step forward. “Brian? Naomi? What on earth are you doing here?” She glanced at Ian as she moved forward to unlatch the porch door. Rooster bounded out and greeted the two by jumping up and down and spinning in circles.

  “Our parents were worried so, of course, they sent us. They wouldn't want to appear to be interfering, you know.” Naomi laughed as she hugged Vivienne then stopped to give Rooster a good rub and a kiss. Brian stepped forward to do the same, forgoing the dog-kiss, though.

  Vivienne turned to Ian and, rather awkwardly, introduced him to her cousins. He couldn't get a read on whether or not she was pleased to see them. It was clear they were all close and she liked them; it was less clear if she wanted them there.

  He ushered everyone inside and into his living room. Once they were seated, Ian offered his guests some wine, which they accepted. Glasses in hand, he, Vivienne, and her two cousins sat across from each other in a somewhat awkward tableau. Rooster found a spot on the floor at the end of the couch, the only one who seemed thoroughly pleased with the situation.

  “So, not that I'm not happy to see you, but why are you here?” Vivienne asked again, looking at Naomi.

  “Mom and dad were worried about you,” Naomi said.

  “Everyone is worried about you,” Brian piped in.

  “So they sent you?” Vivienne asked.

  Brian and Naomi shot each other furtive looks in response.

  “Oh, no.” Vivienne sat back. “Who else is here?”

  “Travis,” they said in unison.

  “Another cousin, sort of,” Vivienne clarified for him. “Not blood related, but his mother and my mother were best friends and our fathers, all of ours,” she said with a gesture encompassing the twins, “were on the force together.”

  “But of course, he would never want to show up on a doorstep uninvited,” Brian tacked on.

  “He's a bit formal,” Vivienne explained.