“Let’s take a walk,” he suggested, his voice carefully neutral. “Take a breather.”
Dillon nodded. “I’ll call if I hear anything.”
Kara looked rooted to the spot until Matthew tugged at her hand. She went reluctantly, as if her feet were dragging in molasses, but the important thing was that she went. The fight left her and she followed Matthew.
They walked to her motel room and Kara let them in woodenly. She tossed the key to the table and sat on the edge of the bed. Suddenly, she dropped her head in her hands. He expected to hear sobs but she held the tears inside. So like Kara. He sat beside her. “Do you need to take a shower?” he asked.
She glanced at him through a curtain of hair before she pushed a lock behind her ears. Mossy green eyes glazed with pain stared back at him. Her throat worked as she tried swallowing and she finally nodded. “Yeah,” she croaked, and even though he wanted answers he knew she needed time to put herself back together again. He’d give her that.
“Go shower. Then we’ll talk.”
It wasn’t an invitation for chitchat. Matthew knew Kara understood when she gave him a short, curt nod before rising stiffly and closing herself into the small bathroom.
Matthew used the time to check in with the station. In very short detail, he gave Oren the newest information. He skipped the part where the child that was missing could be his or Neal’s. He figured there was no sense in sharing that detail just yet until he had the facts.
Hanging up the phone, he noticed a small picture frame beside the bedside lamp. He picked it up. His heart stopped.
A miniature version of himself smiled back at him.
Kara exited the bathroom, wrapped in her robe, a towel twisted on top of her head, just in time to see Matthew pick up the photo beside her bed. She’d always wondered what would happen if this moment came and she figured she’d probably lie. But when Matthew’s stark gaze met hers, she couldn’t bring herself to utter a word that wasn’t truthful. Besides, the effort would’ve been futile. Matthew knew the truth. It was staring right at him with a gap-toothed grin and ocean-blue eyes. “She’s mine.”
“Yes.”
He continued to stare at the photo as if memorizing every detail. If it weren’t for the fact that their daughter was missing, she would’ve suffocated under the weight of her own guilt, but as it was she was simply resigned to whatever would happen between them. She deserved his anger, his grief, whatever he was feeling. She’d denied him knowledge of his flesh and blood. She felt lower than low but she couldn’t deal with that right now.
Instead, she tried explaining her decision as if he weren’t the father of her lost child but rather just another colleague and she was going over a case file. She needed that detachment right now.
“I found out I was pregnant a month after I left. I’d just started with the FBI and was overwhelmed. I made the wrong choice. I realize that now. But I didn’t know if the baby was yours or Neal’s.” She met his gaze without flinching. “I’d prayed she was Neal’s but the moment I saw her, I knew. And there was no way I could come back here and tell you that we’d created a child. Neal’s death was still so new and the pain was so sharp. I knew you’d want Briana to be here in Lantern Cove, close to you and your family, and I didn’t think I could handle dealing with people’s reactions. Particularly Neal’s parents. They would’ve been crushed. It seemed best to just stay away. I never figured we’d meet up again or that you’d ever find out about Briana.”
His expression darkened and she had to look away. Still, even though she wasn’t looking at him, she could feel the chill coming from him.
“How could you keep my daughter from me?”
“I just told you why,” Kara answered sharply. “I don’t need you to tell me I made a selfish choice but it seemed the best at the time. I was young, scared and grieving. But I had a career to cling to. Briana and the job was all I had.”
“If I’d known, I would’ve been there for my child,” he said.
“I know that. All I can say is I’m sorry.”
“And if that’s not good enough?”
“It has to be. Our daughter is missing. Let’s just find her. We’ll figure everything out later.”
Kara held her breath. She was asking a lot, but damn it, it’s not like they had many options. She’d gladly sit through anything Matthew wanted to dish out later but right now, she could give a flying shit about his hurt feelings. She needed to focus on getting Briana home safely. Her stomach tightened as an image of Hannah’s body rolled through her mind, except this time it was her own daughter’s body and she nearly lost the strength in her legs. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, genuinely apologetic, but the hard glint in Matthew’s eyes didn’t soften.
“All right. We’ll do things your way. For now,” he bit out, and Kara fought the urge to wince. “We’d better find her. Thanks to you I could lose my daughter before I ever get the chance to know her. What you’ve done is unforgivable. When this is all over, things are going to change. That’s a promise.”
No. It was a threat. That’s how Kara perceived his statement and she couldn’t help but bristle.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re a smart woman. Figure it out.” Matthew didn’t give her a chance for a rebuttal. He spun on his booted heel and stalked from the room. She could practically see the steam coming from the tops of his ears. A cool-off was probably wise. Neither one of them needed to let emotions cloud their judgment.
Her hands shaking, she drew the picture frame from the table and cupped it to her breast. A single tear snaked its way down her cheek, proving she hadn’t expended all her tears in the shower. Her baby. Was she hurt? The Babysitter kept the victims tied and bound until he suffocated them with something. Fibers gathered from the Nobles boy’s nostril indicated his killer had probably used a pillow. But no fibers were collected from the other two victims. The damnable lump rose in her throat again and she gagged it down. Her baby was not going to die.
Chapter 9
Matthew’s spinning thoughts warred with his need to focus but it was easier said than done when your world had splintered apart.
He had a child. Briana. He tested her name on his tongue and he choked up. All this time lost. Fury tangled with the anguish over the situation and he didn’t know how to process how he was feeling. His hands curled with the need to break something, needing that outlet to vent the violence twisting his heart into something black and ugly.
The hatred he’d nursed against Kara for what she’d done to Neal paled in comparison to what he was feeling at that moment against the mother of his child. Mother of his child. That startling thought sobered him like a slap in the face. No longer just a childhood friend or ex-fiancée of his best friend. No longer the woman of his secret dreams. They were tied together in the most unbreakable way—DNA.
He expelled a long breath and watched as it curled and dissipated into the frosty air. His gaze traveled the treetops set against the gray sky and he sent a silent prayer that they found Briana before it was too late.
Dillon regarded the silent group before him. They were all feeling the same thing. Shock. They all knew Briana, loved her like their own. The kid was easy to like. Smart without being precocious, cute that bordered on beautiful, which meant when she grew up…Dillon looked away. They had to ensure she had a chance to grow up and break hearts.
“This ain’t right,” D’Marcus muttered, tossing his pen to the makeshift desk where his computer center was situated. “Kara’s part of the team. She’s been a part since the beginning. No one knows this case better than her. We need her insight.”
Dillon agreed but his hands were tied. “Colfax was pretty clear. Kara could jeopardize the investigation at this point.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Tana interjected with a dark look. “If anyone could do this, it’s Kara. She’s not like anyone else. Not like most parents. She can detach and be the agent she needs to be.”
Dillon shook his head. “It’s her daughter and she’s only human.”
“You know if we don’t at least let her in on the sidelines she’s going to go off and head the investigation herself. Nothing is going to stop her. Not Colfax and not any stupid rule that says she has to be off the case. She needs us and we need her. What Colfax doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Tana said.
Dillon looked around the room, reading each expression, knowing they were waiting for him to fall into line. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Kara on the team and certainly not because he enjoyed toeing the line Colfax was giving him. He didn’t want to do anything that would put Briana in more danger. Was Kara a loose cannon who would do more harm than good? Or would she continue to be the steady hand at the helm that they all—that Briana—needed?
Well, he knew Tana was right. Kara wouldn’t sit like a good girl waiting for news of the investigation. She’d give the bureau the middle finger and head off on her own. They might as well give her the backup she’d need. “Fine. We’re in agreement. Kara is in—but if anyone breathes a word about this, we’re all in a heap of trouble. It’s got to be total radio silence from here on out. I will deal with Colfax.”
They all nodded and Dillon felt a weight fall from his shoulders. Colfax was a prat anyway. And Dillon rarely followed rules unless they suited him. Bad habit, that. Or so he’d been told. Repeatedly.
It was near to midnight when Kara finally tossed her reading glasses to the table and rubbed the grit from her eyes. A yawn jackknifed her mouth so hard her jaw popped but she didn’t want to stop. The rest of the team had already dragged their bodies—stiff from sitting at the table poring over evidence and case files—to bed, but Kara knew she wouldn’t find sleep even if she tried. She’d have to collapse first.
Raising her coffee cup, she took a tired swallow only to grimace at the ice-cold temperature. She considered heating it up, but considering it would do nothing for the flavor, she simply downed it, willing the caffeine to give her a second wind.
Dropping her head into the cradle of her arms, she closed her eyes for a moment. Cement dragged her eyelids but grief, purposefully buried, broke free and welled to the surface. She bit back the keening wail that threatened to burst from her throat but her nails dug into the flesh of her arms, the pain paling in comparison to the rending of her heart.
Would she see Briana again? What had been the last thing she’d said to her? Was it loving? Or was it tinged with exasperation as her voice sometimes tended to get when she was rushed and preoccupied with whatever was going on at work? She hoped not. She hoped the last words she spoke to Briana were ones that would serve to bolster her courage when she needed it the most.
Kara dragged a shuddering breath and released it forcefully, trying to stop the hysteria from gaining a foothold. She had to stay focused. She could do this. She had to do this.
But her brain, whether from extreme fatigue or grief, wouldn’t cooperate so readily. Images from her memory flashed in slow succession, as bittersweet as they were treasured.
Briana slid into the world on a bone-bending push that Kara was sure was going to send the infant flying across the room from the force of it. Instead, she landed gracefully in the doctor’s waiting hands, a small slippery bundle that would forever change Kara’s life.
Kara had never known such love as she felt the moment she stared into those bright blue eyes and her daughter’s infant fingers clutched instinctively around Kara’s index finger.
And Kara had cried, feeling so alone. For a mad, crazy, hormonal moment she’d actually considered call ing Matthew, but as her hand touched the phone, she jerked it back as if it had burned her. She couldn’t tell him. It was at that moment she resolved to be a single parent.
And now…she swallowed with difficulty. Now her daughter was missing. If she hadn’t been so selfish, Briana would’ve grown up here in Lantern Cove, safe from the lunatics that Kara chased every day, thriving.
Mai would still be alive.
Her fingers curled blindly, crumpling the paperwork beneath them. She didn’t even notice. A sob rocked her body as the tears rolled unchecked down her cheek. There, at midnight with no one as her witness, she sobbed her heart out, wishing she could change that fateful decision. Rather than listening to her fears, she should have listened to her heart and dialed that phone on the day her daughter was born.
The phone rang and she jumped. Wiping at her eyes, she picked up on the second ring. It was Matthew.
“I knew you’d be awake.”
She sniffed loudly, hoping Matthew wouldn’t realize she’d been crying. “I don’t sleep well under normal circumstances.” She didn’t need to say what they were both thinking. Somehow it seemed wrong to sleep when their daughter was missing, as if those hours spent snoozing might somehow jeopardize their chances of finding her.
“How about you?”
“Same.”
Silence followed until she heard him draw a deep breath. She felt the urge to apologize yet again but knew he hadn’t called to hear her say how sorry she was. He knew. But it was likely he still hated her. Another tear snaked its way down her cheek. “Matthew—”
“What time should I be there tomorrow?” he asked, cutting her off brusquely.
“You don’t need to be here,” she started, then hesitated. He did need to be there just as much as she did. “We start at 7:00 a.m.”
“I’ll be there.” There was a long pause and Kara wondered why, when all there was left to say was goodbye. Then he asked in a tight, pained voice, “What is she like?”
Fresh tears sprang to her eyes and she struggled to keep the evidence from her voice. “She’s a lot like you,” she admitted. “She’s a quiet kid, a watcher. She’s smart, a straight-A student. Loves to learn. She just recently—” her voice caught on the words and when they finally did come out they were filled with a mother’s anguish “—asked if she could take guitar lessons.”
Matthew had started playing the guitar when they were eight, a year younger than Briana. His fingers hadn’t quite been able to fret the strings properly but he’d been so proud of that guitar. It had startled Kara when Briana, out of the blue, asked if she could start taking lessons.
She heard him swallow and she knew he was pushing down tears, as well. This just sucked, she thought bitterly. Plain sucked all the way around.
“Did you buy her a guitar?”
“I was thinking about it. I—” She didn’t want to admit that she’d been less than inclined to indulge Briana’s wish. In fact, she’d suggested Briana take piano lessons instead, which hadn’t gone over well with her daughter. “I will, though.”
“Let me do it,” he said.
Her first instinct was to decline his offer but the truth was out of the bag. What did it matter now? Besides, suddenly, Kara’s priorities were different than they were days ago. Now, if she got Briana home safely, she’d let her play any instrument she damn well wanted to even if it did remind Kara how much she was like her father.
“All right,” she agreed softly. “That would be nice.”
He grunted something unintelligible and Kara sensed emotion was getting the best of him. She wasn’t the only one who didn’t enjoy letting others know how deeply something had touched her. He cleared his throat and said gruffly, “Tomorrow, then.”
She nodded. “Yeah. Tomorrow.”
All around the mulberry bush, the monkey chased the weasel…
A child’s singsong voice drifted into her dreams and Kara tossed in her bed to get away from it.
The monkey thought ’twas all in fun, Pop! goes the weasel.
A sleepy groan escaped as the child’s voice continued to sing. Shaking herself more fully awake, she expected the remnant of the odd dreamscape to fade but the song continued. Bolting upright, the hair on her arms standing at full attention, Kara gasped when the song abruptly stopped. She wasn’t hearing things. A child had been singing to her. Flicking the light at her bedside, she blin
ked against the sudden illumination and felt sick to her stomach at the sight of an empty room. It was four in the morning. Same time as the last time something this creepy had happened.
Sagging against the pillow, she gave a shaky laugh. She was losing it.
Chapter 10
Matthew wasn’t the first to notice that Kara looked like death warmed over, but he was the only one to comment on it. He received a nasty look that he probably deserved. He didn’t want to care if she wasn’t sleeping—or eating, judging by the look of her—but old habits die hard apparently.
“When’s the last time you ate?” he asked.
She barely looked up from the geologist’s report she was reading to answer distractedly, “Sometime yesterday I think. I had some almonds. Or maybe they were peanuts. I don’t remember. Why?”
Matthew ignored the amused look the Brit shot him and stalked from the room. Ten minutes later he returned with fresh coffee—that stuff she’d been swilling had to be days old—and a Danish. He thrust it at her. “Best I can do on short notice. Eat,” he commanded sternly. Her puzzled expression prompted him to explain. “Can’t think with a fuzzy brain. You need food and sleep. Basic human functions.”
Kara shot a quick look around at her team and then reluctantly took the Danish. “Thanks.”
“Doesn’t mean we’re dating,” Matthew said.
“A romantic,” Dillon quipped, further cementing Matthew’s distaste for the man. “Who knew? Got a Danish for me in that bag of tricks?”
“No.”
Dillon grinned, not the least bit put out by Matthew’s glower. “Good thing I brought my own breakfast, then.”
“Good thing.”
To Catch a Killer Page 7
