by Kylie Brant
“We need food. And a truckload of Timmies,” Ethan announced as he pulled out a chair and dropped into it.
Alexa smiled. It’d been a long time since she’d heard the uniquely Canadian word for the coffee from the popular Tim Hortons chain. “I could get on board with that. Especially the food.”
Ethan loosened his tie, which looked as though it had been mangled since the press conference. “To catch you up, I now have the commissioner’s assurances that all evidence from this case will go to the front of the queue in the labs.”
Nyle looked as impressed as Alexa felt. If the crime lab in Ottawa was anything like the ones in the States, evidence could languish for weeks or longer waiting to be processed. It wasn’t unheard of for a case to go to trial before the forensic tests were completed. “He’s also assigned two forensic analysts to work specifically with the task force. One is IT, which should come in handy with these new victims’ computers and other technology devices.”
“But not cell phones,” she recalled.
“We have none in evidence because the UNSUB has always made damn sure to get rid of them. He probably deactivated them immediately to avoid being tracked.” Ethan stifled a yawn with the back of his hand. “However, we’ve gotten the previous victims’ phone records. There’s never been a number on them that could be traced back to the offender.” He took his cell out again. This time, Alexa noted, he was looking up pizza places. “We have a stop-and-search authorization for any white van fitting our description at each exit route from the country. Commissioner Gagnon wouldn’t permit it province-wide at this time.”
Nyle muttered a curse and Ethan nodded in agreement. “He said we needed irrefutable evidence linking the van to the offender before he’d inconvenience the public to that extent.”
“At least now we can hope to contain the offender,” Alexa murmured, transfixed for a moment by the sight of Ethan’s undoing the top button of his shirt. She attempted to slam the door shut on the mental images that threatened. Was unsuccessful.
His fingers moving down the back of her flowered sundress in the front seat of his used Impala, undoing zippers and snaps with a finesse belied by his years. Of his hands moving…everywhere. His touch leaving a path of fire on her skin.
Mortified by her wayward thoughts, she tore her gaze away. She hadn’t recalled those moments in too many years to count. What would elicit them now?
But she knew the answer to that. It was this place. Ethan’s proximity. Both of which made a lie out of her assurances to Raiker that there were no memories here to trip her up. At least, she hadn’t thought so.
“If we’re right and the UNSUB is this Anis Tera that Fornier mentioned. And if he hasn’t dumped the van and is still in the province—” Ethan broke off to order a pizza at the takeout place that answered. Through charm and intimidation, he managed to convince them to have the driver pick up the coffee, as well. Alexa’s lips quirked. His powers of persuasion had always been legendary. How else had he talked her into a relationship that moved outside the library walls and into his world? One that had been utterly foreign to her, but with Ethan as her guide, so completely irresistible.
When he hung up, he picked up the conversation where he’d left off. “Fornier said Simard arrived here on Sunday. We know the offender’s time frame—the last New Brunswick victim was two weeks ago. The chance of the highway and toll-road cameras still having images from that long ago is minimal, but we do have a request in for those images.” He scrubbed both hands over his face for a moment before dropping them to regard them again. “Next moves?”
“I’ve been pulling names of owners of vans like the kids described this morning.” Nyle shoved the list he’d been making toward Ethan. “I assume you have someone from the team in New Brunswick doing the same?”
He nodded, picked up the sheaf of papers and studied them. “McManus. But until we get a clearer connection that it is the UNSUB in that vehicle, chasing down all these owners isn’t the best use of our time.”
“My priority is a safety check on Jeanette Lawler,” Alexa said. She couldn’t put aside the nagging concern that had been growing inside her since they’d talked to Fornier earlier. “How long ago did you speak to the Vancouver RCMP?”
Ethan glanced at the clock on the wall. “You heard me calling them in the car. That was…what? A half hour ago?”
His words did nothing to allay her anxiety. Vance was an unwitting player in the ruse to draw Simard here. It was possible that Lawler was, too. But she wanted to be certain. “Do we still have the manifests we were looking at earlier today?”
Nyle jerked his head to a box near the door. “I packaged them up to be sent downtown. Ethan said Lieutenant Martin would assign a couple of his men to them. Should go a lot faster now that they no longer have to look for names associated with Simard. They just need to cross-check the incoming New Brunswick and Nova Scotia passenger lists for names of people who entered both provinces in the window we’ve defined.”
“So it shouldn’t take long at all for us to look only at the airline manifests for the last week or so and examine them for Jeanette Lawler’s name.”
The glint in Ethan’s eyes told her he wasn’t keen on the idea. But after a moment, he sighed. “Fine. We’ll check them over pizza. And hope that we get a call before we’re through, informing us that Jeanette Lawler is safe and sound in her own province.”
It was Nyle who made the discovery. Still on his first coffee, but midway through his third slice of meat-lover’s pizza, he paused, the slice halfway to his mouth. “Jeanette Lawler. Dammit.”
The food she’d consumed turned to a cold brick in Alexa’s stomach. “She flew in?”
Ethan’s chair scraped as he pushed it back and bounded out of it to round the table to peer at the manifest in front of Nyle. “Monday afternoon.” His mouth flattening, he whirled on his heel, grabbing for the phone in his pocket. “Keep looking,” he snapped over his shoulder. “Make sure she hasn’t left the province again.”
Alexa flipped to the beginning of the pile in front of her and skimmed the pages for today. Yesterday. A frigid finger of ice traced down her spine as she quickly scanned the pages. Nothing in the offender profile she’d shared with the task force this morning had offered specifics on the reason for his escalation. After meeting Fornier, she could guess what had triggered the UNSUB. But she still had no idea if he’d selected more victims.
Or whether he had Jeanette Lawler in his sights.
“How did you even discover the hotel where we’re staying?” Parker Bixby, the tall emaciated looking cameraman of Exposé looked more annoyed than concerned when he made his eventual descent to the Piedmont Hotel lobby a couple of hours later. “No one is supposed to give that information out. There’ll be a big kerfuffle over this, I promise you.”
“Jeanette Lawler,” Ethan interrupted. “Where is she?”
“Who did you say you worked for again?”
Ethan studied the man. Whatever he’d been imbibing in his room was likely illegal in this country. His pupils were dilated and his speech overly enunciated. “Royal Mounted Canadian Police,” he repeated slowly. “We have reason to believe Lawler may be targeted by someone wishing to do her harm.”
“Oh, dear.” A vacant smile tilted the man’s lips. “Those numbers are myriad, I’m afraid.”
Ethan took a step closer and tamped down an urge to grab the man by his shiny purple shirt. “Call her.”
The woman hadn’t responded to their messages or those from the administrative assistant who’d finally been tracked down by Vancouver RCMP officers and persuaded to give up her boss’s number. The reluctant assistant had eventually shared the name of the hotel where the crew was staying, but Lawler wasn’t answering the phone in her room, either. Nor had she responded to repeated knocks on her door.
“Me?” The man trilled a laugh, throwing his head back to show a protruding Adam’s apple. “She isn’t likely to answer a call from me, either.” Still ch
uckling, he lowered his voice conspiratorially. “She’s got her party panties on by this time, and her colleagues are the last ones she wants to talk to.”
When Ethan only looked at him, the man gave a theatrical sigh. “Fine.” He made a show of drawing his cell out of the back pocket of his tight black jeans and languidly punching in a number. Ethan could feel the impatience rolling off Alexa and Nyle at his side. It mirrored his. It was like a giant clock had lodged in his head, and he was watching the minutes tick off while waiting on the self-important idiot before him.
“See?” Bixby held up the phone so Ethan could hear the voice mail message. Then he disconnected and wedged the phone back into his pocket. “She’s been working like a madwoman for the last few days finalizing the interview we came to this godforsaken province for. Then it got postponed today. Jeanette was pissed. Beyond pissed, actually. Thinks the guest is disrespecting her, which is a dangerous game to play with the host of Exposé. She’s going to be out for blood when we shoot tomorrow.”
“The guest is Armand Vance?”
He abruptly sobered. “How’d you know that? Did Cindy give out that information, too? Oh, that girl is so fired….”
“How did Vance contact her today?”
Bixby lifted a bony shoulder. “Email, I assume. I mean, Jeanette mentioned a couple of times that the man couldn’t be bothered to have a phone conversation. Which is pretty arrogant, considering the guy is probably going to spend the next decade in prison.”
“Listen carefully.” Ethan’s voice was hard, slicing through the man’s ramblings. “Armand Vance is not in Nova Scotia. He doesn’t know anything about this interview. Lawler was scammed by someone who lured her here.”
Finally, the seriousness of the situation seemed to dawn on him. “Lured? But who? How?” He shook his head. “We’re very careful to double-check these things.”
“When did you last see her?”
“Five or so? There are just four of us here. Joey, the producer, Stella, who does makeup and hair, Jeanette and me.”
“Is Stella here?”
“Probably. Girl gets room service every night.” He rolled his eyes. “You ask me, she could stand a little socializing.”
“Call her. Get her down here.” They needed to question both the woman and Bixby, zeroing in on a list of Lawler’s potential enemies. After the man had obeyed, Ethan reached into his suit jacket and brought out a copy of the sketch the forensic artist had done. Unfolded it and showed it the other man. “Have you seen this individual before?”
Bixby squinted at it. “Hard to say. Sort of looks like half the people you pass on the street, doesn’t he? Doesn’t look familiar, though.”
Ethan tamped down his rising frustration. “Was the original contact set up by email, too?”
Spreading his hands, the man said, “I assume so. With the type of guests we schedule, the set-up is often hush-hush, but usually there are phone calls. Not this time, though.”
He caught Alexa’s glance. Recognized what she was thinking. Fornier had mentioned Anis Tera using emails that disappeared. But the man wouldn’t have utilized that technique when masquerading as a potential guest for the show. Lawler’s computer might give them valuable information.
“Any idea who Jeanette Lawler might be with right now?”
This time the man’s shrug seemed sincere. “We don’t really hang outside of work hours. I know Jeanette stayed in the last few nights we’ve been here, and that’s not usual for her. I’m assuming she caught some dinner and then went out for a night on the town. Joey probably did the same, although they wouldn’t be together because they both hunt the same prey.”
The word was unfortunate, given the circumstances. “What do you mean?”
“Pretty young boys.” Parker smirked. “Jeanette likes her music loud, her drinks strong, and her men barely legal. Find the clubs in town that offer all three, and you’ll likely find Jeanette.”
Ethan stepped away and used his phone to look up Lawler’s cell phone provider. Then he placed a call to them. The exigent circumstances were urgent enough to waive a warrant. He requested a phone ping to get Lawler’s location, then looked up when Nyle made a subtle gesture toward Bixby. Ethan nodded. The man had given them all he could. He could be dismissed.
A moment later Ethan disconnected, cursing his luck. “Lawler’s phone is dead or shut off.”
“So now what?” Alexa asked.
He placed a call to Lieutenant Martin as he answered her. “We get a group of officers together and spread out.”
It was a far cry from the clubs in Vancouver. Jeanette brushed her hair back over her shoulder and leaned against the bar as she scanned the occupants. In this dress, sitting down wasn’t an option. The place was only three-quarters full. But it was early yet. Barely ten. And the dim lighting, the music pumping through the speakers and the better-than-average-looking bartender who’d yet to charge her for a drink tempted her to give this place a chance.
Jeanette picked up her phone, intent on looking up other clubs in case she wanted to ditch this one later. Discovering the cell dead, she set it back on the bar, disgruntled. She’d already forgotten the club names from her earlier research.
She turned to catch the bartender’s eye. He hurried over. Definitely attentive. A possibility if she struck out with the younger patrons. “What time do things get going in here?”
“Wednesday nights aren’t usually our busiest.” He crossed his arms and leaned over them across the bar, raising his voice to be heard over the music. “But we’ve been having Hump Days specials to draw in the crowds. Give it another hour, it’ll be shoulder to shoulder in here. You gonna stick around?”
“I don’t know.” She twirled the straw of her drink between two fingers. The guy didn’t seem to recognize her, which was a plus. The place was dimly lit enough that maybe no one else would either. Not the way she was dressed.
“I think you should.” Someone called to the bartender, and he shot them a quick look before turning to smile at her again. “Take my word for it. You won’t be sorry.”
Ethan used his credentials to avoid the line and cover charge at Zoomey’s nightclub. When he and Alexa walked inside, the lights and sounds that met them was an assault on the senses.
She reared back a little at the visual onslaught. The place was a gyrating wall of people, the strobes making them look like a solid mass of human JELL-O, jiggling and moving to the heart-pumping bass beat.
They were constantly jostled as they attempted to move forward. To ensure they weren’t separated, Ethan slipped his arm around Alexa’s waist. Tried to ignore the zing of electricity that touching her elicited. She turned her head at that moment, her hair brushing his jaw. “And people come here for fun?”
A hard smile of agreement settled on his lips. It wouldn’t be his idea of entertainment either, although there’d been a time years earlier when he’d tried the club scene. Paying for overpriced liquor and leaving stained with others’ drinks and vomit had lost its allure in a hurry.
A loose-hipped young man who’d obviously been over-served danced up to them, his hand on Alexa’s arm. “Dance with me, gorgeous.” He exerted enough force to pull her forward a few steps.
Ethan’s brows lowered. “Back. Off.” He doubted the man could hear him, but something in his stance had the other guy glancing in his direction. What he saw in Ethan’s expression made him release Alexa and retreating quickly into the mob behind him.
As Ethan forced their way forward, it soon became apparent that the crowd parted naturally for the woman at his side. Not so much for the two of them. He turned a shoulder into the mass of people and wedged a hole for them to pass through. In the ten minutes it took them to make their way to the vicinity of the bar, no fewer than three guys tried to halt Alexa’s progress.
Which was exactly the reason he’d insisted the two of them pair up for the search for Lawler. Alexa had made no secret of her annoyance. They could cover twice as much area if th
ey split up, she’d insisted. An assurance that now proved false. Alone, she would have been accosted continually.
The people were lined up three and four deep waiting for service. Ethan was about to flash his credentials again when Alexa slipped away from him and headed to a group of raucous young men draped over the bar a few feet away. He watched as they turned as one at her presence and parted like the Red Sea for Moses.
Ethan shook his head, unwillingly amused. Maybe he’d underestimated her after all. He took a moment to scan the room behind him. More crowded than the other establishments they’d been to, but the places seemed to get more jammed with the passing hours. It was going to be impossible to pick a lone woman out of the masses at tables, booths and the dance floor. It was going to take forever to search the whole area.
He faced the bar again and saw a bartender leaning attentively toward Alexa as she showed him what was likely a copy of Jeanette Lawler’s professional photo. The man with the bar rag leaned forward to take a long look before nodding. He later shrugged at something Alexa said and waved an arm at the mob that had to be a violation of the fire code. As she fought her way back to him, Ethan stepped in front of a harried-looking waitress balancing a tray of drinks.
“Have you seen this woman tonight?”
She barely gave the picture a glance. “Not that I recall, but look around. She could be anywhere.”
Alexa reached Ethan’s side then. “According to the bartender, she was here earlier. But he hasn’t seen her recently.”
Which meant she may have left, or she was among the sea of occupants. With a mental sigh, he nodded. “We’ll look here first.”
