Nikki paused. There was no humor in her dark eyes now. “The Copycat has another victim.”
Another victim.
Images of Nadine Washburn’s body flashed through Diana’s mind. She felt helpless. Sick.
Reed leveled a serious look on Nikki. “When?”
“We think sometime last night. Obviously after he dumped Nadine Washburn’s body. Her husband was out of town. When he returned this afternoon, he found their two-month-old baby in the house alone.”
“The baby?” A baby without a mother. A baby lying alone in her crib for hours. Diana couldn’t breathe.
“Yeah, but that’s not the kicker.”
There was more? Her legs felt weak. She leaned against the wall.
Reed pulled on his second shoe. “What else?”
“The husband. He’s the governor’s son. The brass, the press, the whole damn world is going crazy.”
Diana understood Nikki’s concern. That much media coverage and pressure would doubtlessly affect her and Reed’s investigation. But that wasn’t the important thing to Diana. She didn’t care who the husband was or what kind of influence his father wielded. The baby was the important thing.
The baby was the only thing that mattered.
Chapter Fourteen
Reed watched Diana through the office-door window as he waited for the lieutenant to finish his phone call. She sat very still in the corner, watching the flurry around her. The district office was three times as busy as usual. Even with many of the officers already moved to new task-force offices and more out working the streets, the infusion of brass, politicos and FBI nearly overran the building and spilled onto the sidewalk.
Of course, he doubted they would fit on the sidewalks with the throng of media hovering outside.
The lieutenant slammed down his ancient corded phone and peered at Reed through frameless glasses. He’d always looked tired, even on a good day. But today he looked more exhausted than usual. And although he was already nearly bald, Reed could swear he lost more hair with each day the copycat case went unsolved.
Reed had known as soon as he’d walked into the district office that this was no ordinary meeting. Not that a meeting would ever be ordinary with a serial killer on the loose. But judging from the hushed and fervent looks he’d received from people who would be in the know, he sensed this meeting was about him. And that he wasn’t going to like it. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
“We have some problems with this investigation. Problems I need to address.”
“What kind of problems?”
“Lack-of-result problems.”
Reed tried his best not to roll his eyes. He wished the lieutenant would have the balls to come out and say what he meant. “What exactly do you mean, lack-of-result problems?”
“We need an arrest.”
“Don’t you think I would arrest the son of a bitch if we had any idea who he is?”
“You’ve been working this case too long not to know who he is.”
Reed almost did a double take on that one. The lieutenant knew what kind of evidence they’d found; he knew the current facts of the case; he knew Reed would give anything to nail the copycat. “I can’t pull evidence out of my ass.”
He knew he shouldn’t be talking that way to the lieutenant of detectives, but the inference that Reed had been wasting time all these months chapped him so badly he wouldn’t be able to sit for a week.
“I expect results. The captain expects results. The chief expects results. The goddamn mayor expects results. And I can promise you the governor expects results.”
He forgot the voters. Politicians always did. And even though the lieutenant wasn’t voted into office, he had always had a bit of the politician about him.
Reed drew a deep breath and let the air between them cool. Getting hotheaded wouldn’t help anyone. And provoking his boss would do even less good. “So what are you saying?”
The lieutenant adjusted his glasses and narrowed his eyes on Reed. “You know how it works. Someone has to take responsibility for the lack of results.”
“And you want it to be me?”
He turned and paced across the tiny office. “You’ve been spending an inordinate amount of time investigating Dryden Kane’s involvement in this, and you don’t have any leads to show for it.”
A cramp seized the back of Reed’s neck. Something stank, and it wasn’t just sewage seeping into ceiling tiles. “You’ve been talking to Perreth.”
The lieutenant shook his head. “I know he’s not an objective source. I know there’s bad blood between you. This isn’t about anything Perreth said.”
“Maybe not. But I’m willing to bet Perreth’s sabotage is a contributing factor. Hell, maybe that’s why you insisted Perreth be part of the task force in the first place.”
“I’m not your enemy, McCaskey.”
“No? It sure looks like it from here.”
He splayed his hands out in front of him, as if beseeching Reed to understand. “This is the governor’s daughter-in-law we’re talking about. Governor Copeland’s daughter-in-law.”
“I’ve heard.” Reed felt horrible for Cerise Copeland, her husband and her baby. Hell, he even felt bad for the governor. But it wasn’t as if the family she’d married into made her more important than Nadine Washburn or the three women killed last autumn.
Of course in the real world of politics and media hype, it did. The other four women had been lucky they were blond-haired and blue-eyed. If they’d been minorities, they would have been truly invisible to the political and media powers that be.
“You know how much sensationalism goes with a serial-killer case. When you throw in the governor’s daughter-in-law and some unproven connection to Dryden Kane…” The lieutenant threw his hands in the air.
Reed leveled him with a dispassionate stare. He didn’t have time to worry about the political end of this mess. He’d leave those ambitions to Nikki, Perreth and the lieutenant himself. He just wanted to find a killer. “I know more about this case than anyone. I have my finger on what every member of the task force is working on. I can talk to the feds, the guys from the sheriff’s department. I make the whole thing work. If you want, take over the media part of this. Or give it to Perreth. I don’t care. Just let me handle the investigative end.”
The lieutenant blew out a long breath. Slipping his glasses off his nose, he swiped at one of the lenses with his tie before putting them back on. “I’m sorry, Reed.”
Reed shut his eyes. “You can’t do this.”
“Go home. Get some rest. I’m sure you haven’t slept in days.”
He opened his eyes and peered through the window, focusing on Diana. The lieu might be able to pull the investigation out from under him and hand it to someone else, but Reed wasn’t about to trust Diana’s protection to whatever officer his boss drew out of a hat. “What if I reassign myself to a different role?”
The lieutenant arched his thin brows. “What role?”
“Bodyguard.”
DIANA SAT ON THE OTTOMAN she’d slid beside Reed’s living-room couch. It had taken ten minutes to convince him to lie back on the pillows she’d mounded beneath his back and head, and ten more to convince him to let her check him out. If he insisted on being any more difficult, she was going to bop him one. “Look straight ahead.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
Turning on the flashlight, she aimed the beam just past his left ear.
His pupil scoped to a small dot amid the rich brown iris.
“How am I doing?” He squinted against the light.
“I have to check the other eye.” She pointed the flashlight away from his face.
“I’m fine, Diana.”
“I’ll let you know if you’re fine or not. Now let me see your right eye.” She went through the same routine with the light on the right side.
“I told you.”
“Do you still have the headache?”
“The doctor said that
might take a while to go away.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
He groaned.
“Watch it. Irritability is also a symptom of concussion.”
“Only if it’s something new.”
She couldn’t help but smile.
“You don’t have to hover over me, you know. I really am okay.”
She knew he was physically okay, except for the bruises and headache. But emotionally okay? That was another question. “I can’t believe your lieutenant is making you the fall guy.”
He shrugged one shoulder, as if it wasn’t a big deal.
The gesture didn’t fool Diana. Not for a second. Reed would probably choose a headache and ringing in the ears over being taken off the case. As for her, the worry over Reed’s career and the fate of the case was tempered only by her relief that he would finally be able to get some rest. “How does your head feel? Do you need more Tylenol?”
He reached up, capturing her hand. “I mean it, Diana. I brought you here because I don’t trust Perreth to find someone competent to protect you. You don’t have to take care of me.”
“So you’re allowed to take care of me, but not the other way around?”
A sheepish grin spread over his face, but he didn’t let go of her hand. “All right. Point taken. I would love more pain pills.”
She extricated her hand from his. Tingles stole up her arm and turned to warm flutters in her chest as she walked into Reed’s immaculate and hardly used kitchen. She grabbed the bottle of Tylenol and ran a glass of water from the tap, trying her best not to remember the last time she’d been in Reed’s apartment. The day before their wedding—a wedding that had never taken place.
She’d come so far since that time. She hoped she’d put those kinds of doubts and fears behind her for good. The memory of how afraid she’d been that Reed would find out who her father was, that it would change the way he felt about her, made her cringe inside.
She stepped into the doorway to the living room. Pausing, she let her gaze fall on Reed. Her heartbeat quickened, the pounding irregular and jumbled in her chest. Seeing him had always done that to her, made her feel weak, needy.
Leaning against the pillows, he stared out the picture window, the streetlights’ glow falling on his face.
She carried the water and tablets to the couch. Handing them to him, she stood back and watched him pop them into his mouth and drink down the water. “Now was that so hard?” She reached out for the glass.
Instead of handing it to her, Reed trapped her hand in his. “Sit down.”
She hesitated. She must have been crazy agreeing to stay at his apartment. Sure, his building was security locked. Sure, she could watch him, make sure he was recovering properly from his blow to the head. But she didn’t have to think back to his kisses in the hospital to know it was a bad idea. She only had to look at him from across the room to experience the confusion he created in her.
“Haven’t you ever heard of bedside manner? Yours needs some work.”
She shook her head. God knew with his fingers wrapped around hers, her knees felt too weak to stand much longer anyway. She lowered herself to the ottoman.
“Don’t tell me. When you were growing up, you always wanted to be a doctor.”
She forced out the breath she didn’t know she was holding. She had to admit that being safe in his apartment, talking about silly things felt good. Normal. Something she hadn’t had a taste of in what seemed like a very long while. “Nope. Never wanted to be a doctor.”
“A nurse?”
“No.”
“What then?”
She allowed a smile to lift the corners of her lips. “A superhero.”
“Really? That’s the reason for your office decor?”
She nodded. She’d decorated her home office with female action figures and posters. She’d never realized she’d never told Reed why.
“So who did you want to be?”
“Wonder Woman. Her name is Diana, you know.”
“I guess I should have figured that one out.”
“She’s strong. She can fly. No one messes with her.”
“Or if they do, they’re toast.” He gave her a sympathetic smile and she knew he was thinking of Ed Gale.
“Right. It was a nice fantasy, to be that powerful. Who am I kidding? It’s still a nice fantasy.” No more Dryden Kane. No worries about protecting the people she loved. No more helplessness and fear.
She shook her head. Dwelling on fantasies would get her nowhere. She glanced at Reed. “I suppose you always wanted to be a police officer.”
“Not until junior high. Before that I just wanted to be a big brother.”
“As in part of the group Big Brothers Big Sisters?”
“No. As in having a lot of younger siblings.”
Diana had to raise her brows at that. Reed’s parents were both doctors. To this day, they were very involved with Doctors Without Borders, traveling around the world to help people in need. As dedicated as they were to their chosen professions, they’d done well to raise one child, let alone more. “How many is a lot?”
“A dozen or so.”
A short laugh escaped her lips. She pressed a hand over her mouth.
“I know. A little unrealistic. But I dream big.”
“I always thought being an only child had its perks. I didn’t have to share my toys. I got all the attention.” Of course, she’d gotten all the bad attention as well as the good, but that was another matter. “Why did you want so many siblings?”
“My parents were always trying to help other people. Through their work. Through charities.” He stroked his thumb along her index finger. “I guess I just wanted to be like them. I wanted someone to need me, too.”
Her throat pinched, making it hard to swallow.
“As it turned out, I never got those brothers and sisters. I never knew what it was like to be really needed. Not until the job. Not until you.”
His words cut into her defenses. Into her self-control. She’d never understood before. Never even considered why he always took care of her. Only that it was a part of him. A part she couldn’t change.
She pulled her hand from his grasp and pushed up from the ottoman. Stepping to the window, she stared out into the blackness. “I can’t need you that way, Reed. Not anymore.”
“I know.” The couch rustled. His footsteps padded across the carpet behind her. “I didn’t really understand that before. Not until these past few days. Not until I got the chance to see how strong you are.”
Chills rose along her arms and over her back. It felt as if she’d waited forever to hear him say those words, even longer to believe them herself. But though she’d always envisioned this moment would make things clear in her mind, she couldn’t have been more wrong. Feeling Reed’s heat behind her, hearing his voice, aching to be in his arms made her feel weaker than ever. “What does that mean? For us?”
“Is there an us?”
She shook her head. She was so confused. So unsure. She felt as if she were walking the edge of a cliff and one wrong step would send her falling into oblivion. “I don’t know.”
“I want there to be an us. More than you know.” He raised a hand to her face. Touching her chin with a finger, he turned her head toward him.
She turned her whole body to face him, afraid to think, afraid to breathe.
“I’ve learned a lot in these past few days, Diana. But the most important thing I learned was how badly I need you.”
She closed her eyes. His words washed over her. Words she never thought she’d hear. Words that gathered in her chest and filled her with warmth.
Filled her with power.
She took a step. Into his arms. Into his heat.
He brought his lips down on hers. Hungry. Demanding. Showing his need. His kiss at once familiar and totally new.
She pressed her body against the hard length of him. Devoured his kiss as he devoured hers. She’d stepped over the edge and w
as falling, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything but the warmth of his body and the taste of his mouth.
He skimmed his hands up her sides, taking her shirt with him. He slipped it over her head, then circled his hands around her back to unhook her bra.
Cool air caressed her breasts and puckered her nipples.
He moved his hands up over her ribs and cupped her in his palms.
Diana arched her back, pushing her breasts into the caress of his hands. She brought her hands to his shirt. Forcing her fingers to work, she slipped his buttons free and spread the fabric away from his chest.
His touch felt so good, so right. So much about the feel of him was the same. Warm. Safe. Yet so much had changed.
So much about her had changed.
She ran her hands under his shirt, soaking in the texture of his skin, the rasp of the hair sprinkled in the center of his chest. She wanted to recapture what they’d had. The passion. The heat. Yet she wanted something different. Something elusive. She could taste it on her tongue.
Heat shimmered in her chest, building and strengthening like kindling fire. She moved down his body, sliding kisses over his chest, his belly, tracing the trail of hair down to where it disappeared into his waistband. She settled on her knees. Raising trembling hands, she unfastened his belt and lowered his fly.
He buried his hands in her hair, his fingers massaging her sore scalp in a gentle caress.
She pulled his slacks down his legs, taking his briefs with them. She’d been so young when they’d met, so young the first time she’d touched him, the first time they’d made love. She’d taken his body for granted. The strength of it, the power of it, the responsiveness to her touch. She didn’t take it for granted anymore.
She brushed her fingers up the underside of his shaft, lifting him, bringing him closer to her mouth. She let her breath wash over him.
He pulsed with movement at her touch. A moan rumbled through his chest.
She wanted to spend all night touching him, tasting him, reveling in the way he moved under her caress. She wanted to savor the clear evidence of how much he wanted her. How much he needed her.
Warmth surged through her, pooling between her thighs. She’d never felt so desperate for him, yet so sure of her own strength, her own power. She wanted more. She wanted to show him how she felt. She wanted to see how he felt about her.
Evidence of Marriage Page 13
