Maggie’s eyes immediately sought Brandon but a cursory look around the room revealed he was absent. A twinge of disappointment struck her and she steeled herself. It didn’t matter whether he was the most handsome man she had seen to date, or that he was apparently unattached, or that they might have shared a moment. She had relinquished her rights on him to Deckker. Wait a minute, my rights?
“The DA faxed me some documents.” Doug sifted through piles of paperwork on a table set aside for the FBI to work on. “Ah, here we are.” He pulled a stapled group of papers out, faced the women, and handed it to Maggie. “Basically this paperwork names the Collinses as stewards of the residential property, but Happy Gilbert is the co-owner and managing partner of Burrows Photography.”
“This,” he continued and handed a sheet of paper to Deckker, “contains his investment assets. Not bad, if you ask me.”
“It says he’s holding shares in Kodak and Fuji, some dot com companies.” Deckker read down the list. “Some of these holdings date back to when his mother was alive, and no doubt she was the original purchaser of the shares.” Deckker looked up. Her mouth gaped at Doug. “He could literally live off the dividends alone on some of these.”
“He’s rich, no doubt,” Doug agreed.
“So, he could’ve bought his way out,” Maggie voiced softly, thinking about Burrows’s escape.
“It would make sense given his net worth. But,” Doug leaned back on the table and crossed his arms over his lean chest, “the question is, who did he pay to set up the prison break?”
“Who were the other escapees?” Maggie asked.
“Dunno. We’ll have to get the list from Worth. He stepped out about ten minutes before you walked in. I told him about the photography shop. He went to check it out and assign a man to watch it,” Doug responded.
“Who is this Happy Gilbert?” Deckker asked. “He sounds like a bootlegger.”
Doug shrugged. “I don’t remember him from the last time we were here. We’ll ask the marshal when he gets back.”
Deckker turned to Maggie and gave her a sly grin as she wagged her eyebrows.
Maggie ignored her. She let out a satisfied breath. “This is good work, Doug. Really, it is.”
Doug removed his thin frames, lightly cleaning them on his polo shirt. He shot a quick smile to Deckker. Maggie hid a grin when she saw Deckker return to reading Burrows’s financials, without a second glance at Doug. Maggie knew Doug had a thing for Deckker. Of course, he wasn’t exactly her type, but that didn’t discourage him from constantly trying to get her attention. Deckker never settled for anyone who didn’t have the face of a model and the hard body of a construction worker.
Doug had neither.
If he weren’t on their team, she wouldn’t even know he existed despite their sharing the same office space. None of this deterred him. Maggie squeezed Doug’s shoulder as he kept his gaze on Deckker. “Let me fill you in on Mrs. Collins.”
****
A couple of hours later, Brandon entered command and control. He loved the hunt. Ever since he joined the US Marshals, he couldn’t get enough of it. After what happened to Emily, he switched from his desk job and joined the Fugitive Recovery Team, and became consumed by the job. In return, he earned quick promotions and a stellar reputation of always recovering his man.
Until this case.
He had tracked sex offenders, rapists, drug czars, and even murderers without ever having an issue, but now an unrecognizable feeling churned slowly in his gut. This can’t be good. Something about this case was wrong, or about to be wrong. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he hated being blindsided.
After receiving the Burrows file, based on first impression, Brandon determined this hunt would be far from normal. Burrows displayed above-average intelligence. For close to ten years, he flew below investigative radar. Burrows had proved his specialty of hiding and remaining hidden, and Brandon worried how long he could stay cloaked. This piqued Brandon’s interests. He loved playing hide and seek with his prey. He always won.
His eyes caught sight of Maggie and his heart took flight. When was the last time that happened to him? Brandon refused to conjure up the past and instead focused his gaze on the woman presently in front of him.
She was beautiful. Even now, with a strained look on her round face, hair pinned up off her neck, an intense posture as she leaned over something he couldn’t see, Brandon couldn’t help but enjoy the view. It hadn’t dampened since he’d first met her, and to his surprise, he longed for it.
“Any updates?” He relished the growing stains of rouge in her cheeks as she looked up from her work, clearly startled.
“We discovered some really interesting financials.” Deckker handed him a thick pad of paper.
Brandon’s brows arched as he read the sums. “Wow. Spoiled little rich boy?”
“Only he’s never acted that way.” Maggie stood and crossed her arms over her chest.
Brandon willed his eyes not to follow where her arms rested. What was wrong with him? He wouldn’t be a man if he didn’t notice her ample curves but for the last few years, a woman barely held his notice more than five minutes. Now he stared, daydreamed, and according to Bernie, grinned like an idiot. Brandon cleared his throat and once again looked over the financial review.
“I’m positive most of this wealth was obtained when he was younger,” Maggie said. “Yet, his mother was a modest woman. Nothing in our interviews with neighbors indicated extravagant living when Burrows was a child.”
He nodded.
Maggie looked at Brandon. “Doug told us you’re aware of the change in management at Burrows Photography.”
“Yes. I have a team sitting on the storefront now, although I’m not sure of the likelihood of Burrows contacting Mr. Gilbert.”
“We’ll work that out tomorrow when we meet him,” Maggie rushed to assure him. “The photography shop is still open for business so we’ll have an opportunity to question Mr. Gilbert.”
“How did your meeting with Sally Mayes go?”
Maggie blew out a breath, which lifted her bangs. Perhaps he shouldn’t have asked.
“She’s completely distraught. Even though we have round-the-clock surveillance on her, her anxiety level is through the roof. I don’t think anything but Burrows’s capture will calm her down.”
“We’ll catch him.”
Maggie nodded. “I told her that. It didn’t reassure her. Burrows shouldn’t have gotten free in the first place.”
“Well…” Deckker eased around the opposite side of the table. A coy smile softened her mouth. Brandon was forced to turn from Maggie; if he didn’t, he would have appeared rude. “We have the best tracker the US Marshals has to offer.”
FBI agent Sara Deckker was stunning. Tall, blonde, model physique: she belonged in a beach photo shoot — not in the middle of a Virginian countryside hunting a serial killer. He didn’t doubt her abilities as a law enforcement officer, but he knew when a woman used her feminine sexuality to attract a man, bad things could happen. Other men gravitated to that type of woman, but not him. He always preferred a woman whose strength and confidence originated from character. His mouth strained with a polite smile.
“We’d also like to figure out who Burrows paid to break him out of jail. You have the list of names of those who escaped custody with him?” Doug stepped forward, and although he spoke to Brandon, his hard eyes were on Deckker.
“We do. The Marshals office in DC is handling their cases.” Brandon held out to him the financial paperwork. “I’ll request a copy of the list and get it to you as soon as possible.”
“Then we’ll fax them this information and, hopefully, we can uncover some financial transactions we’re not aware of.” Doug took the paper from Brandon. “If we follow the money trail, it should lead to some answers.”
Brandon agreed. A fairly basic investigative step but usually the most crucial. Burrows’s accomplices would open a world of questions about the extent o
f his connections. Would any of them know the whereabouts of the bodies of the missing women? How deep would their investigation take them?
“Have we had a sighting yet? What about any new leads?” Maggie asked.
Brandon took a moment to allow her voice to dance around in his ears. Her soothing sounds could relax crying babies. His knees softened.
Emily…
They’d dreamed of having a family one day: three or four kids, maybe more. He didn’t come from a large family but his heart always yearned to share his life with a few kids. Emily would laugh at the numbers he threw at her and remind him it was her body that would carry the children and give birth. She eventually compromised, promising two children.
Emily…
Brandon clamped down on the memories. “Last I heard from the field, the dogs picked up on a scent but had lost the trail. It’s not uncommon for them to lose it and then pick it up again.” He tried not to frown. “Unfortunately, we’ve now lost the daylight, and it does become harder to track in the dark.”
Maggie nodded and remained silent. He could see she tried to keep an impassive expression as her lips fought a downward turn.
Brandon ran a hand through his hair all the way to the nape of his neck. He let out a small sigh and looked at his watch. After nine p.m. Bernie wouldn’t be taking over for another three hours. For the first time in a long while, exhaustion overwhelmed him after only forty-eight hours of chasing. He blamed it on the emotional rollercoaster Maggie had him on. Why didn’t he just get off the ride? He threw off his jacket and slung it over the back of a nearby chair. He sat down, locked his hands behind his head, and finished his thought.
“Also, the owner of the land really didn’t get a good look at him. We could be tracking a teenager for all we know. Burrows would have to travel through that part of town to make it back to his residence, so it’s a possibility.”
“Word came in on a stolen vehicle he could have used to travel down here.” Deckker stepped closer to Brandon.
Instantly, the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He found her physically attractive, but worried she wouldn’t get the hint he wasn’t interested, and that was a concern he didn’t need now. He stole a glance at Maggie. She kept her head lowered, her lips turned slightly downward. She was enough distraction, and a far more appealing one.
Doug snapped his cell phone shut. “It was torched. Nothing left of it. Sheriff’s office called and said the car was abandoned right at the eastern edge of the city limits.”
Deckker shot Doug a look of annoyance and Doug shot one of disgust right back. Great. I’m in the middle of a tug-of-war. Brandon observed Deckker’s efforts to interact with him irritated Doug. Maggie remained silent and busied herself with the papers in front of her.
Life would be simpler with her. He spent the past several years running on high octane, a mode of great appeal to him. A slower life would be quite enjoyable, especially with the right woman…but he had his shot five years ago. He’d received a divinely bitter revelation: that kind of life wasn’t for him.
Maggie snatched a few papers from the table and made her way around Doug to stand in front of Brandon. “I know it’s burnt to a crisp but I’m going to check out the vehicle anyway. Coming?” Her brow slanted upward at the question in a way that challenged him.
And gave him goose bumps.
It took a moment for Brandon to find his voice. “Sure.” She pivoted sharply on her heels and headed toward the door, but not before she called over her shoulder to Doug and Deckker that she would be on her cell and to call the moment new developments arose. Brandon stood and yanked his jacket off the nearby chair.
On the way out, Brandon caught a quick glimpse of a slack-jawed Deckker, and a slightly relieved Doug. As he walked across the room to catch Maggie, she looked back at him. He guessed to make sure he was following. He wondered at the challenging glint in her eyes, the firmness around her mouth, and the rapid pace of his heart.
****
Maggie heard someone call Brandon back in to the room so she waited for him in the lobby. Her jaw trembled and her lips curved into a shaky smile. She put her cool hands to her warm cheeks. She had never done anything like that before. The way Deckker stalked Brandon like a feline in heat aroused an urgency in Maggie to shut her competition down. She nearly stuck her tongue out at her when Brandon agreed to come with her to investigate the car — and that was completely uncharacteristic of her.
Maggie groaned as she sank into a nearby armchair. What was this, high school? If it was, then Maggie was up against the head cheerleader. Maggie never cheered in school. She played on the field hockey team.
Her phone rang. “Weston.”
“Hi, sweetie, how are you?”
Mother. “Hi, Mom, I’m fine. How are you?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You know, bailing on your sister when she needed you to babysit really put me and your father in a bind.”
Maggie closed her eyes in frustration. “Really? How so, Mom?”
“Well, first off, since you refuse to get married—”
“I’m not refusing—”
“Don’t interrupt your mother.” She cleared her throat. “Now, where was I? Oh, yes. Your sister is having a hard enough time as partner at her firm — which you know, requires long hours — and also raising a new baby. You offered to help, so you should keep your commitments. Although, if you have a problem with commitment, that would explain a few things…”
Maggie swallowed a quick retort. Wasn’t it her sister’s choice to marry and have a family? And because Maggie didn’t — or hadn’t yet — she was suddenly reduced to the nanny? “Mom, I still don’t see how this puts you or Daddy out. You don’t want to babysit your grandson?” Maggie cringed at the cheap shot she sent her mother. Her parents adored Jaden and would prefer to look after the child.
“Of course not. Now you remember whom you’re talking to. We just had to rearrange our schedules at the last minute and your sister had to miss an hour of work.”
“Wow, Mom. A whole hour? Well, I can’t miss a second because I’m back in Culpeper tracking down Burrows.”
She heard her mother gasp, and then the sound of the phone dropping on the other end.
“What did you say?” her voice cracked a moment later.
“Burrows, Mom.” Maggie sighed. “I’ve been here in Culpeper since this morning. Burrows escaped custody, and I’m on a joint task force with the US Marshals to hunt him down.”
“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry. I know how difficult it was for you the last time you had his case.”
Maggie ran a hand down the side of her cheek. “Thanks, Mom. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you more notice about Jaden. Marshal Worth came into my office yesterday and I haven’t stopped moving since.”
“I understand.” Her mother’s voice softened. “You just do what you have to do, and don’t worry about anything else. Not even Burrows, you hear me? You don’t play into his games.”
Easier said than done. Maggie couldn’t help but worry about where Burrows was or what he would do next.
“Does this Marshal Worth live up to his name?”
“What?” Maggie breathed. Her heart pounded faster, against her will.
“Stop pretending like you didn’t hear me. A US Marshal? They’re always gorgeous. So, what does he look like? Denzel? Or,” she paused, “Simon Baker?”
Maggie groaned. “Simon Baker? Really Mom?” She rolled her eyes.
“Don’t roll your eyes either. It’s disrespectful.”
Maggie couldn’t help smiling. How did she know? “Mother, I’m working a case.”
“Hmm, you didn’t say Denzel—”
“Mom.”
“Well…” She exaggerated.
Maggie sent her gaze heavenward. “Mom, I don’t need to be thinking about that right now,” Maggie pleaded.
“So, he’s white?”
“Mother.” Maggie tried not to shout. “Does it really matter if he’s white?” she hiss
ed into the phone. What was keeping Brandon? She needed a reason to get off the phone. She jumped up from her seat, intent on marching to command and control to find Brandon when she nearly collided into his chest. She raised her eyes, and gulped.
“I don’t see why you have to keep it a secret. It’s not the 1950s. I’d still like to know who’s coming to dinner, though.” She laughed. “Maggie? Margaret? Are you still there? Is the man there with you? At least tell me if I got the right name—”
“Call you back, Mom.”
Click.
“Who’s white?” His baritone voice hummed. Humor laced the question while his eyes twinkled.
Maggie blinked. Oh Lord, please don’t let him guess what Mother and I were talking about. She grappled for a way to change the subject, and regain some sense of composure, but his chest was at her eye level — his pectorals strained the fabric each time he inhaled.
Heat stole up her neck.
Maggie looked down and noticed the papers in his hands. “Um, are these the names of the escapees from your office?” She tried to take them from his hands, but he resisted. Her head came up. His lips twitched as he fought a smile. He let the papers go.
He knows. But had the good grace to let the matter die.
“Yes. I made a quick copy, thinking you might want to see if you recognize any names.”
“Great, I’ll look these over on our way out to the scene.” Maggie spun on her heels and hurried out. She refused to look behind her this time.
The drive to the outskirts of Culpeper, where Burrows abandoned the vehicle, couldn’t have been more arduous. Maggie tried her best to read her documents but she ended up counting the number of times Brandon glanced at her. And it had been a lot. He asked whether she was okay, and she assured him, a little too cheerfully, everything was fine.
Everything was not fine.
The whole way over, Maggie mentally weighed the pros and cons of inviting him to the scene. She didn’t need him. He could be busy with other aspects of the manhunt instead of looking at a charbroiled car…a car not likely to have any clues to aid the investigation. Maggie ignored the obvious: Brandon had agreed to join her. The elation she felt earlier over his consent to come had since died, and now she wondered what had come over her.
Serial Games (Virginia Justice Book One) Page 8
