by Janie Crouch
“Sometimes I have nightmares.”
“About what?”
“Mostly my uncle. That he is attacking me, hitting me, before I can really get awake and away from him. That was finally the reason I left home. Because I knew eventually he would kill me.”
“Somebody should’ve helped you. A school counselor, a doctor, somebody.”
He felt her shrug against him. “I was good at being invisible. And terrible at asking for help.”
“The trouble asking for help is still a problem, I see. You need to get better at that.”
“Yeah, probably. I’m still pretty good at being invisible. I don’t think anyone knows me around Omega.”
Brandon laughed outright at that. She turned toward him. “What? I don’t ever really talk to anyone.”
“That doesn’t mean they don’t notice you, sweetheart. Most are just too scared to start up a conversation with you. You’re known as being...” He cut himself off. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings.
“What?”
“A loner. Not someone who wants to socialize with others.”
“That’s pretty much true, I guess.”
“Not anymore. Not once we get back to Colorado Springs.” He felt her stiffen. “But we don’t have to talk about that right now. Right now you just practice the task at hand.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“Learning how to sleep with my arms around you.”
“Okay, that I can do.”
Brandon held her until he felt the tension ease out of her body and her breathing take on the deeper evenness of sleep. But it was a long time before he could sleep himself.
* * *
ANDREA STILL SNEAKED out a little before dawn. She wasn’t trying to make Brandon angry. She wasn’t even trying to get away from him. She just needed to be by herself. To regroup before seeing him again.
Before seeing his gorgeous brown eyes and striking cheekbones. His thick black hair she didn’t know if she’d be able to stop her fingers from running through next time she saw him.
Everything about last night had been perfect. And she wasn’t running now. Wasn’t scared. Or at least wasn’t scared of being close to Brandon. It was just that being close to him—being close to anyone—for that long was hard for her. She’d spent a lifetime keeping people at arm’s length. That habit wasn’t going to change overnight.
Not that Brandon had given any sort of indication that he was interested in anything more than just last night. She wished she had more experience with this sort of situation. She’d known one thing: if he’d awakened this morning and she’d sensed regret from him, it would’ve broken something inside her that couldn’t be fixed.
So maybe she was running a little bit.
After putting on jeans and a shirt, for once not feeling the overwhelming need to look immaculately professional, she headed out to the hotel’s small dining room as she had yesterday.
She was hungry. She and Brandon hadn’t had much dinner and had expended considerable energy during the night. But first things first: coffee.
The lobby was deserted; she couldn’t even see someone working behind the counter. The little dining room was also empty.
But for some reason Andrea felt like someone was watching her. She spun all the way around, but couldn’t see anyone, just the shadows from the sun starting to rise behind the clouds. It cast an eerie light in the building.
But she could swear she could feel rage, violence, hatred pointed in her direction. She’d felt them enough from her uncle over the years to recognize the emotions.
Was her uncle here?
She was about to go back to her room, to lock herself in, but stopped. No. There wasn’t any reason to be frightened. No reason to go hide somewhere.
There was no one here. Just her own imagination—coupled with not getting enough sleep—that was messing with her mind. This town messed with her mind.
And if her uncle and aunt were here, she would deal with it.
She forced herself to get the coffee she wanted, then sat down at the corner table. Her back was to a wall and she could see everything that happened in both the dining room and through the glass into the lobby.
She felt better a couple of minutes later when three guys came walking—albeit quite unsteadily—into the lobby. Maybe that was whose presence she had sensed, although it seemed unlikely. They were all laughing so hard she would be surprised if they didn’t wake sleeping guests.
They’d obviously been out all night, were barely sober and were highly amused with themselves. They were college-aged, a little younger than Andrea. Clean-cut, good-looking guys.
“Top of the morning to you, miss,” one of them said as the others made a beeline to the coffeepot.
Andrea raised an eyebrow. Top of the morning? These guys were definitely still drunk. Normally that would have made her tense, but, although she was wary, she found herself too relaxed after last night to jump back into full tension mode.
“Looks like you fellows had a good time. I’m hoping you didn’t drive here just now.”
“Oh no,” another one said, holding up two fingers. “Scout’s honor, we took a cab.”
“But we do have to drive home in just a few hours.” All of them groaned at that. “They’re going to have to send security to drag us out of bed at checkout time.”
The third one added a ton of sugar to his coffee and grabbed a Danish. “We’ve got to pace ourselves, you guys. We’re never going to make it through the pilgrimage if we keep having nights like last night.”
They all smiled. “But what a night.”
“Pilgrimage?” Andrea shook her head. “I’m almost afraid to ask what pilgrimage you guys might be on that has left you in a state like this.”
Guy number one eased himself into the table next to her, wincing at the sunlight beginning to come through the lobby windows.
“We went back to a place we heard about on the Devils and Angels Pilgrimage.”
Andrea had no idea what that was.
“We go to Arizona State,” he explained.
“The Sun Devils,” Andrea said. Anyone from around here knew Arizona State’s mascot.
“Yes!” The guys were all inordinately pleased that she knew that. They got distracted and started talking to each other about their school’s latest basketball endeavors. Evidently the Sun Devils were doing well.
Andrea just went back to drinking her coffee; she wasn’t interested in basketball statistics. Honestly, she wasn’t interested in these guys at all, but knew they’d leave of their own accord soon.
Finally they remembered she was there and that they’d been in the middle of telling her something.
“Sorry. Anyway, Devils and Angels Pilgrimage. One of the local DJs decided he was going to travel all over Arizona to find the best...” The guy stopped, looking at Andrea, unsure how to continue.
He was embarrassed. Andrea could feel it radiate from him. One of the other guys leaned down and whispered something in his ear.
“The best exotic dance clubs,” the first guy continued, obviously relieved to have found a more neutral phrase. “All over the state. Some fraternities are taking part in the pilgrimage, including ours.”
“So, what, a different club each week?” she asked.
“Yep.” He got a bent postcard out of his pocket and slid it to her. “See, we’ve done the first six and now have three more to go.”
The postcard wasn’t too difficult to read since it was just a list of clubs and dates on one side. A picture of a scantily clad she-devil and angel sitting on the shoulders of DJ Shawn “Shocker” Sheppard on the other.
But what caught Andrea’s attention was three clubs on the list. Three of their four dead girls had worked at three of them.
&
nbsp; “Do you mind if I keep this?” she asked.
“Sure,” the guy said, sitting up straighter and looking at her more carefully. “Hey, are you interested in going to any of the clubs with us? There are always a few women there, even straight ones. I’m Pete. We’d love to have you. It would be a lot of—”
“She’s not interested, but thanks.” Brandon’s deep voice came from behind them. “Or if she is, I’ll be the one to take her.”
He slid into the chair next to Andrea, kissing her on the way down. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” she murmured against his lips. Brandon pulled back, but kept his arm around Andrea’s chair. The message that she was off-limits was more than clear.
“Yeah, well, we’ve got to get some rest,” the college guys said, instinctively backing away from the threat they could feel in Brandon. “The information on the postcard is also on the DJ’s website. It’s a whole big thing where people vote and they talk about it on the show. It’s pretty wild.”
The guys grabbed a few more things to eat and then headed up to their room. Pete winked at her over his shoulder and Andrea couldn’t help but smile.
“Things are getting progressively worse with you,” Brandon told her as he stood to get a cup of coffee. “Yesterday you sneak out of the bed. Today you sneak out of the bed and have three boyfriends by the time I get to breakfast.”
“If it helps, I think only Petey wanted to be my boyfriend.” She smiled, a little shocked at herself. She wasn’t sure where this ability to make light flirtation was coming from, but it was pleasantly surprising.
Brandon turned and leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “I might have to start handcuffing you to the bed so you don’t escape.”
She grinned. “I believe that would be improper use of your restraints, Agent Han.”
The heat in his eyes caused her to blush. The thought of being handcuffed to Brandon’s bed sent explosions throughout her body.
She liked knowing this man—with all his brains and degrees—wanted her.
He stood there for a long moment just looking at her. The heat in his eyes never went away, but a soft smile formed on his lips as he studied her.
“What?” she finally asked.
He came back to the table and sat across from her this time, leaning close. “You know, I’ve seen you in your suits, dressed impeccably professional, and totally naked. Nothing in between.”
She felt her face burn. “Oh.”
“So seeing you in jeans and a shirt is nice. Relaxed.”
She leaned into him. “I feel nice. Relaxed.”
And she did, amazingly. She didn’t have to worry about her secrets being found out; Brandon already knew them. Even the earlier uneasiness about someone watching her had fled. She was here with him and she was relaxed.
She didn’t know how long it would last, but for the moment she was willing to just enjoy it.
Chapter Twelve
“So, what did your boyfriend give you there?” Brandon asked between bites of his cereal.
A number of couples and families were around them now, the romantic mood that had engulfed them broken, but not the easiness.
“Something I wanted to check into. See if the dates lined up.” She slid over the postcard with the dates the DJ would be visiting the different clubs. “I noticed they were at Jaguar’s three nights ago and at Allure last week.”
He took the card to study it. “And at Diamond Cabaret two weeks before that, which would be right around when the first victim was found.”
“I know the dates don’t correspond with their deaths, but I just thought it was interesting that it was the same order.”
Brandon nodded. “Very interesting.”
“Do you think this DJ Shawn Shocker has anything to do with it?”
“I doubt he is our culprit. Purity doesn’t really look like his thing.”
She looked at the back of the card with the picture of the DJ and the angel and she-devil on his shoulders. No, Andrea wouldn’t peg him as the killer, either. “So maybe it’s someone, like Petey and his friends, traveling around on the ‘pilgrimage’ with DJ Shocker.”
Brandon nodded. “Definitely a possibility. Actually, this could be the biggest break in the case we’ve had so far. Good job.”
She smiled, then looked at the paper again. “It doesn’t explain about victim number two, Ashley Judson. She didn’t work at a dance club at all, one on or off DJ Shocker’s list.”
“You’re right. But also, there was no one killed from the club that the DJ visited that week.”
“What does that mean?”
Brandon shrugged, looking at his notebook. “Let’s follow this thread all the way out.” He lowered his voice so their conversation wouldn’t be overheard by the few people eating breakfast. “Let’s say it’s a DJ Shocker groupie who’s committing our crimes. Someone who is following Shocker from club to club, picking a woman and killing her a day or two later.
“Okay, victim number one, Yvette Tyler, was killed one day after Shocker’s stop at Diamond Cabaret. There were no reported deaths after Shocker’s stop at Vixen’s the next week.”
“But victim number two was killed where she worked at the truck stop.”
Brandon nodded. “And we know she moonlighted as a prostitute.”
“Shocker’s group headed to Allure the following week. Noelle Brumby was found dead two days later.” Andrea used sugar packets to provide a graphic representation of what she was saying. “And then Shocker was at Jaguar’s on Tuesday and Jillian Spires was found yesterday, so killed Wednesday night.”
Brandon stood. “Definitely fits. We need to get this to the sheriff’s office.”
* * *
SITTING IN OFFICER Kendrick’s office two hours later, Andrea back in one of her professional suits, Brandon could feel frustration pooling all around him. They weren’t going to get any help from the locals.
Kendrick had pretty much been ordered to let the case go and release it to the City of Phoenix homicide department. The Maricopa County Sheriff’s Department had neither the resources nor the manpower to continue the investigation.
And honestly, except for Kendrick, Brandon wasn’t sure they had much of a desire.
The conference call with Gerardo Jennison with the City of Phoenix PD hadn’t offered much hope, either. They would offer their labs, coroners, crime-scene investigators and even continue to be a liaison, but they couldn’t afford to put much detective and officer manpower on it. Phoenix and Maricopa County in general had bigger problems than the deaths of four women on their hands: they were dealing with unprecedented biker gang wars all along Interstate 10.
Unless something drastically changed, he and Andrea were on their own when it came to investigating. The sheriff’s office promised to send out a notice to the owners of the exotic dance clubs in the area, asking them to warn the women working there to be extra cautious.
But that was it. No one else was working full-time on trying to find the killer.
He could feel Andrea becoming more agitated, so Brandon wrapped up the conference call and meeting pretty quickly. He’d been around red tape long enough to know that sometimes you just worked around it instead of trying to go through it. He led Andrea back out to the car.
“They don’t care at all,” she said, barely out the door. “The deaths of these women mean nothing to them.”
He walked with her toward the parking lot, stopping by a tree that was at least a little bit away from the main entrance. “I know it seems that way, but I don’t think that’s true. Money and manpower are finite resources. The department wants to put them both where it’s going to help the most number of people.”
Andrea ran her fingers through her blond hair. Brandon had never seen her this ag
gravated before.
“If it wasn’t for us, nobody would be looking into their deaths. Trying to figure out what happened. Trying to stop it from happening again.”
He ran a hand up her arm. “The locals want to help, too. They just don’t have the funds.”
She turned away from him, looking off into the desert that surrounded them. “What if DJ Shocker had decided to do this stupid tour four years ago? I could’ve been the one the police found yesterday. And just like those four other women, nobody would’ve cared about my death. No family members would have stormed the sheriff’s office demanding the killer be caught.”
Although he knew it was probably the truth, everything in Brandon tightened in rejection at the thought. The thought that she could’ve died without his ever knowing her.
“Andrea—”
“I care about these women, Brandon. I don’t know them, but I care.”
He turned her around and folded her into his arms, thankful that she didn’t pull away. He needed to have her close to him right now, to know that she was okay.
“I know you do.”
“I will stand for them. Find the killer. Stop this from happening to other women. No matter what choices they made in their lives, they didn’t deserve to die like that.”
“Together. We will stop this guy together.”
He could feel her nod against his chest before she took a step back. “I have a plan.”
“Okay.”
“It involves us both stepping outside our comfort zones a little.”
Brandon grimaced slightly. He wasn’t sure he liked the sound of this. “Okay.”
“We’ve got four days until DJ Shocker’s next club appearance. We’ll talk to him, talk to his production crew, see who the groupies are, following from club to club.”
He nodded. “Okay, good. I already have an appointment lined up with him this afternoon.”
“We’ll need to interview those people. See what we can figure out from them.”
Brandon nodded. “Yes.” So far none of this was out of their comfort zone.
