“Stuffy,” Naomi corrected.
“Both far nicer adjectives than I would use,” Brian added.
“He's not that bad,” Vivienne spoke, turning toward Ian. “He's just not quite as laid back as the rest of us. He's a location scout for a couple of big-name movie directors. He isn't around us as much as we're around each other, so he's not always as comfortable.”
“And, he has a thing for you, Vivi,” Brian pointed out.
“Maybe when we were, like, ten years old, Brian. Now he actually has a life of his own.” Vivienne tucked her feet under her and took a sip of wine. “How long are you guys staying for?”
“As long as you need us,” Brian said.
“Or as long as we think you need us,” Naomi added.
“And, no offense, but what I if I don't need you at all?” Vivienne said.
Both Naomi and Brian looked at her for a moment, then turned their eyes toward Ian. It didn't take a genius to figure out what they were doing, and he didn't mind. They could judge him all they wanted, try to figure out if he was good for their cousin. While it would be nice to be accepted by Vivienne's family, the only person in the room whose good opinion he cared about was Vivienne's.
After a long moment, Naomi's eye's jumped back to Vivienne and she grinned. “We're planning an attack on the Pentagon tomorrow.”
“At the same time as we go after the CIA and NSA headquarters,” Brian added. “It's going to be massive fun, but we can do the planning and testing from anywhere and this place looks nice enough.”
“So, you're going to stick around?” Vivienne asked, not sounding quite as excited about the prospect.
Both twins waggled their heads and spoke in unison. “Probably.”
“And Travis?” she said.
“He is doing some scouting for a period piece. He figures this area is as good as any other in the Northeast,” Naomi answered.
“Excuse me,” Ian interjected. Perhaps he was a little slow but the words had taken a minute to sink in. “Did you say you're planning an attack on the Pentagon?”
The look the twins gave him could only be described as one of devious delight. He looked at Vivienne. She looked skyward and gave a small shake of her head.
“They aren't crazy,” Vivienne said. “They get hired by the government to test its electronic and technical security. If Brian and Naomi find a weakness, it gets fixed and then they get hired again to test the system. These two probably do more work for the government than I do. And I know their security clearance is higher.”
He glanced back at the easygoing, carefree pair. It was hard to believe that the Pentagon trusted them to break into their systems. But, then again, they didn't look the part, so maybe they were perfect.
“Uh, okay,” he said.
“You're a good sport, Ian MacAllister,” Brian stood as he spoke. His sister followed. “So, we'll leave you two to, well, you know,” Brian continued with a grin as he moved toward the door. Vivienne uncurled from the couch, and she and Ian rose to walk the twins out, Rooster at their heels.
“What are your plans, Vivi?” Naomi asked when they reached the porch.
“I have to go to Boston tomorrow.” This was news to Ian and he shot her a look. Her eyes met his for a brief moment before turning back to her cousins. “Lucas Rancuso had the cases from the Boston area that we want to look into. I spoke with him tonight and he's going to give me the information, but he wants to see me first.”
Vivienne's gaze stayed on her cousins, but theirs switched to him for a moment before returning to her.
“Well then, breakfast tomorrow?” Brian asked.
Vivienne nodded. “Let's meet at Frank's Café at nine o'clock. Bring Travis so I can see him. I'll head to Boston after that and you can all go back to your lives.”
After a quick round of goodbyes, Naomi and Brian were in their car and headed down the drive. Vivienne stood in the cool night air with her arms wrapped around herself, watching them go.
“I'm going with you to Boston.” Ian softened his declaration by wrapping his arms around her from behind and pulling her against him. She was about as pliant as he expected. But it wasn't negotiable as far as he was concerned. Like it or not, it was his case, and while asking his officers to place calls to gather records and files was one thing, sending Vivienne out on her own was entirely different. Especially when the victims, both actual and presumed, looked like her and were the same age. No, he most definitely had no interest in letting her out of his sight for any length of time.
* * *
Reluctantly absorbing the warmth of Ian's body behind her, Vivi stayed still. He had every right to go to Boston with her if he wanted to. It was his case. And, truth be told, she wouldn't mind the company—it wasn't the most exciting stretch of the turnpike. But if she walked into the station with him, between her cousins and everyone she knew and worked with on the force, including Lucas, she may as well be advertising their relationship in neon lights. It wasn't that she wanted to hide it, but over the past few days—even before she'd come to him in her short dress and high heels—there was a little something about him, something private and safe, that she didn't want to lose. Maybe it was selfish, but he was hers. And she wanted the time they had together to be hers. If their relationship went anywhere, she knew it wouldn't always feel like this. So, for now, after having lost so much, she wanted to hold onto something of her own.
Ian shifted behind her. She closed her eyes and inhaled a deep breath of night air. The sweet scent of fresh-cut hay lingered in the air. The crickets were starting to do their cricket thing and the sounds of frogs echoed up the valley. They would go to Boston tomorrow. He would meet her colleagues. He might even meet some of her family.
But they would come back here. They would come back to his house, to this porch, and it would be the two of them again, wrapped in the night and peace of the valley. The realization that whatever happened in the day—whoever they met or didn't meet, whatever they learned or didn't learn—would all be tempered by this quiet made acceptance easier.
Vivi sighed and relaxed into his arms.
“You know, my cousins would probably be felons if the government hadn't given them a productive way to use their devious intellect.”
Ian's chuckle rumbled against her back. “Yeah, I can see that. I can definitely see that.”
“You might meet more of them tomorrow.”
“Family or felons?” he asked.
“Since we're headed into BPD headquarters, probably both.”
She felt him shrug. “I'm okay with that.”
Leaning back into him, she closed her eyes again and listened to the nighttime symphony. “Yeah, I am, too,” she said softly.
A few more minutes of peace passed, then Ian asked, “Were they serious about offering to help? What if you said you needed them, what would they do for you?”
“Anything I asked,” she answered.
“I kind of get that, but what would you ask them to do?”
“They can pull up any electronic data you can imagine, and some you can't. From social networking to phone and bank records to dating sites. That's the kind of thing they do. But listen to me, Ian, you're a good cop and we have a good team. If there is something specific you think they can help us with, we can ask, but they shouldn't be brought in just because.”
He let out a deep breath and stared off into the night sky. “I know, you keep saying that, Vivienne, but this is my first rodeo. I want to catch this guy before he kills any more women. If your cousins can help, what harm can that do?”
She turned in his arms to face him. “They can help when and if you want them to. I'm not saying don't use our resources, I'm saying you need to place some value on the resources you have—namely, you.”
Ian seemed to mull this over for a while before looking down at her. His hands moved up her back and he wrapped them in her hair. And her heart broke a little when he finally spoke. “It's hard to have faith in something you know i
s so flawed.”
She knew he wasn't as flawed as he thought, but she didn't want to argue with him. Yes, PTSD could ruin a person's life, but Ian wasn't just living his life, he was living it successfully. He had nightmares, he worried about people's safety all the time, he was constantly reaching for his gun when she knew he'd deliberately taken it off. But he was also hunting a killer, leading a team of smart, capable people, and even keeping a sense of humor. He might not have faith in himself at this particular moment, but she did. And she'd have to show him it was well placed.
“We'll call John, in the behavioral science unit tomorrow. Let's see what he has to say and we can go from there,” she said.
His eyes locked on hers. “And if he says they're coming?”
She inclined her head, giving him what he wanted, her acquiescence. “Then we find another B&B for them to stay at, because they aren't staying here. And in the meantime, why don't you take me to bed and I'll let you show me how good you are.”
It took less than a second for Vivi's words to sink in, and Ian gave her a cocky look. “There's good and then there's wheelhouse good, honey.”
* * *
Despite not getting much sleep the night before, Vivi awoke rested and ready for the day. Either she was more like Ian than she thought or he was rubbing off on her—she found herself going over the plan for the next few hours, ticking everything off, and putting everything in place: call John, meet her cousins for breakfast, drive to Boston, see Lucas, pick up the evidence, and then head back to Windsor. It would be a long day, but being able to add the files of the three Boston women to their growing collection would, she hoped, give them an exponential amount of additional information. And the more information they had, the better their chances of discovering something that could help them find the person responsible for the deaths of Jessica and Rebecca.
Rising from the empty bed, she threw on one of Ian's t-shirts and walked into the kitchen. He was sitting at the table filling out paperwork. Rooster was sprawled on the floor beside him, resting his head on what looked like a well-loved stuffed toy and a small blanket. Ian's uniform shirt was unbuttoned and he wasn't wearing his gun, but he didn't need either to command authority. He may have been questioning his ability to perform the duties of an investigator, but he was still a leader, still in charge, still shouldering the responsibility.
“Are you ready to call John?” Vivi asked.
He looked up from his paperwork, and she didn't miss the sweep of his eyes over her. She arched her brow, then winked at him, making him smile, before she walked over to pour a couple of cups of coffee. Bringing them both back to the table, she grabbed her cell from the counter before sliding into the seat across from the Ian. Rooster must have become accustomed to her already, as he simply raised his head and watched her until she sat, then dropped his head back down and closed his eyes.
“Ready?” she asked.
“As I'll ever be.”
She hit speaker, then speed dialed John's number. It rang twice before her colleague picked up.
“Levitt, here.”
“John, it's Vivienne DeMarco.”
“Vivi, it's good to hear from you.” She could hear the surprise in his voice. John was the only person she'd talked to at the Bureau about her decision to take some time off, the only person she'd told, until Ian, about the manic behavior that had consumed her after her parents and brother died. His surprise wasn't unexpected.
“Everything all right?”
“I'm fine, I'm doing okay,” she answered. “Unfortunately, I happened upon a young woman who wasn't so lucky. I'm here in Windsor, New York, with Ian MacAllister, the Deputy Chief of Police, and we're working an interesting case. It's Ian's first here as law enforcement, but he's been a Ranger for over a decade. We thought your opinion might be helpful.”
“Sure, anytime. Why don't you tell me about it and we'll see what we have.”
So they did, or rather, Ian did. Vivi sat back and listened as he gave John the details in a succinct, but thorough, overview of what they'd found—who the victims were, the serial killer theory, and the possible additional victims. John interjected a few times—asking questions, clarifying who was who—and when Ian finished, Vivi could all but see John leaning back in his chair, frowning in thought, and maybe running a hand over his bald head.
“You've found yourselves in quite an interesting situation. But let me ask you this, are you calling me because you want the Bureau involved?”
Vivi looked at Ian, waiting for him to answer. He caught her eye and held it for a long moment before answering.
“Truth be told, sir,” he started, “I'm not sure. I'm not opposed to federal help if it will help catch whoever is doing this, but I also don't want to take you away from cases that might be more in need of your attention. I think we're going to need you at some point, but being new to this, I'm not sure at what point that will be. Vivienne's been telling me to wait but was gracious enough to humor me and set up this call.”
John grunted. “Vivi is a smart woman, and you don't strike me as someone who just fell off the turnip truck. You're right, if you do verify victims in other states you will need to officially notify the FBI, but right now, you only have two confirmed victims, both in New York, both in your jurisdiction. You're doing all the right things to discover if there are more. With Vivi there to help, and you mentioned Nick Larrimore, who, despite being somewhat of an arrogant prick, is a great agent, you're doing exactly what we would do.”
Vivi took a sip of her coffee to hide her satisfied smile; John had said what she'd hoped, what she'd expected him to say. Ian shot her a look, not of defeat, but of good-natured acceptance.
“We're pretty busy here now, anyway,” John continued. “But if you keep doing what you're doing, by the time we come in, if we come in, you'll have friends for life for doing most of the grunt work, I promise you that.”
Ian thanked John for his time and promised to keep him updated. They were getting ready to end the call when John interjected.
“And listen to me, MacAllister, when I say that what made you a good soldier will make you a good investigator. I know it may seem like different skills, believe me I know. I spent seven years as Marines Special Forces before coming back and getting in with the Bureau. But those instincts you have as a soldier—your ability to assess a situation and people, knowing that sometimes the most obvious way out isn't the best way out—will all serve you well. It's your intuition that made you a good soldier, not the other way around. And that intuition will make you good at this job too.”
Vivi studied Ian as his eyes stayed glued to the phone lying on the table. After a moment he mumbled a thank you, which John acknowledged with his own indecipherable grunt, and the two hung up. Ian toyed with the phone for a moment before raising his eyes to hers and holding her gaze.
“You knew he was going to say that, didn't you?”
She shrugged, rose from her seat, and slid onto his lap. “I had a good idea he was going to say that, and I figured you needed to hear it from someone with whom you are not involved.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned in to nibble on his earlobe. His arms came around her.
“So, we're “involved,” are we?”
She trailed soft kisses down his neck. She loved the soft, musky scent he used after shaving.
“So coy, MacAllister. It doesn't become you.”
She could feel his throaty chuckle against her lips.
“No, it doesn't, does it?” Ian stood, lifting her with him. She gave a little yelp of surprise, then realized where this was going as he headed to his bedroom.
“We have to meet my cousins in forty-five minutes and I haven't showered yet,” Vivi protested as he laid her down on his bed and came down over her. Unbuckling his pants on the way.
“That gives us twenty minutes. Twenty-five if you shower fast.” He said, reaching for a condom.
He slid into her and she shuddered at the feel of him. At his strength a
nd the rawness of who he was as a man.
“Maybe thirty minutes if I don't wash my hair,” she murmured.
* * *
Ian followed Vivienne into Frank's Café fifty minutes later—they'd made good time considering they'd also dropped Rooster at Ian's parents’ house. The twins, seated next to each other, were having a spirited debate about something, and another man, maybe a few years older, sat opposite them, watching their discussion with a detached expression. Figuring it was the-cousin-who-wasn't-a-cousin, Travis, Ian understood in an instant what the other three had been talking about the night before. His khakis were pressed, his shirt wrinkle-free, and he even had a sweater tied over his shoulders. Ian would bet that Brian wouldn't be caught dead with a sweater tied over his shoulders. Travis looked out of place with his cousins, but to Ian, he looked like a lot of the weekenders, with nothing much else distinguishing about him.
When Ian and Vivienne approached the table, all three stood for hugs and handshakes. Vivienne introduced Ian to Travis and then settled in with her cousins. Ian headed over to say hello to Frank and place an order for Vivienne and himself. When he came back to join the table, the four of them were midconversation.
“Not a chance,” Vivienne was saying with an emphatic shake of her head.
“You know you want to,” Naomi prodded.
“There are a lot of things I want in life. This isn't one of them,” Vivienne retorted.
“I'm kind of on your side on this one, Vivi,” Brian chimed in. Then, with an apologetic look at Ian, he added. “Naomi is trying to get Vivi to dish on your sex life. Vivi is holding her ground, I'm sure you'll be happy to know.”
He shot Vivienne a look and she gave him a what-can-you-do-it's-family shrug. He opted not to weigh in on the discussion, knowing the less he said, the better.
“Welcome to the zoo.” Travis's comment was sardonic, but a hint of a smile touched his lips as he looked at Naomi and Vivienne. “I'd say this isn't normal, but it is.”
“I have a sister, I remember what she was like with her girlfriends. Though sometimes I wish I didn't,” he said as he sat down beside Vivienne.
Tainted Mind Page 17
