Deadly Intent

by Kylie Brant

  “I forgot about the vest last night,” he said abruptly. “Even though I was wearing one—we all were—I didn’t remember that when I heard you were down. That you’d been shot. It took me forever to get to you, and I’d remembered by then. But was still worried the bullet might have hit you in the head. The femoral artery.”

  Her ire with him immediately melted away. Because it was all too easy to recall the bone-numbing fear she’d experienced when she’d heard there was a man down and had had no way to be sure it wasn’t Kell.

  “You said earlier you were worried about me last night, too, so I know you understand how I was feeling.”

  Her voice was softer than she would have liked. “I guess I do.” Because if their situations had been reversed, she’d probably be moving heaven and hell to make him follow doctor’s orders, too.

  And she’d probably be met with even less success than he was.

  The intensity in his expression sent nerves scampering down her spine. “That makes me believe when you aren’t thinking about time and space and distance, you care more than you want to let on. To either of us.” She opened her mouth. Closed it again when a hint of fierceness entered his gaze. “That was a gutsy move last night, but I already knew you had guts. You showed them again when you confronted Castillo. The question is whether you have the same nerve when it comes to taking chances in your personal life. And you’re the only one who can answer that question.”

  He left as abruptly as he’d come in, leaving her to follow more slowly. He had all but called her a coward, and there was no greater gauntlet he could throw at her feet. Macy passed blindly down the hallway past the priceless artwork and sculptures. She’d thought that facing Castillo a few days ago took all the nerves she could summon, but she’d been wrong.

  In some respects, it was even more frightening to face her feelings for Kellan Burke.

  The conference room was full when she opened the door, and the applause that broke out had her looking uncertainly over her shoulder.

  “Here’s the woman of the hour.” She decided she was more than a little creeped out by the jovial expression on Agent Whitman’s face. It was just too big a change from its normally stern lines. Giving a weak smile in return, she thankfully sank into the seat vacated for her by Agent Pelton, who moved to pull another up to the table.

  “I’m just glad we were in time.”

  “As are the girl’s parents. They’re waiting to thank you in person when you’re free.”

  She nodded, willing the conversation to move away from her and onto the case. Macy only had moments to wait. Whitman indicated for Agent Dobson to speak.

  “As I was saying,” the slender balding agent said, crossing to hand her a file identical to that in front of the others crowded around the table. “We followed up on some irregularities that appeared in David Elliott’s Facebook messages. And we found the same sort of messages in Sam Guenther’s.”

  Momentarily confused, she slanted a glance at Raiker. “The second ransom note came from the Guenther computer,” he explained.

  “And both households have a teenage boy living in them?” When he nodded, her attention shifted back to Dobson.

  “Copies of some of the messages we retrieved are in the file.” Macy flipped the folder open and started to scan them. “Since we also found history on the computers to indicate the boys frequented chat rooms, that might explain the nature of the notes on the social network sites.”

  “Pedophiles will troll those sites, pretending to be teenagers. Gathering information.” Raiker tapped the file with one scarred finger. “It’s possible he posed as another kid, a girl maybe. Got the boys to say things, do things, thinking they were communicating with a girl, and then blackmailed them.”

  The thought had her stomach turning. “You think someone blackmailed the kids into sending the notes?”

  Adam shook his head. “From the contents of the notes, it appears the sender was trying to leverage a meet. But pedophiles will go to great lengths to research their intended victims. Online anonymity isn’t guaranteed, not when someone is well versed in stalking. It’s not beyond reason to assume he learned where these kids lived. He tells them as much. In one of the notes to the Guenther boy, the man tells him he’s sitting outside his house. Using a cell phone with Internet access to communicate with the the boys would tell him the home’s network was unsecured.”

  Still not sure where all this was heading, Macy shrugged. “Sounds like the first thing we need to do is see whether the same person wrote the Facebook messages to both kids. Then compare the authorship to that of the ransom notes.”

  Her boss inclined his head. “Then we’ll go from there.”

  Dobson put in, “The Elliott boy received a message from someone the night the first ransom note was sent.”

  Kell slapped his palm lightly on the file. “That interview with Nancy Elliott. Remember?” Although Whitman nodded, Macy noted that the memory didn’t seem to be a pleasant one for the man, given his expression. “She went on a bit about crime in the neighborhood. How she’d called the city several times to complain about the streetlight by them being burned out but nothing was done.”

  When no one said anything, Kell continued. “But when we questioned the kid in his room and he said he’d seen a car out front the night the first ransom note was sent, he said the car was silver.”

  “And how did he know the car was silver if there was no streetlight?” Travis put in slowly.

  “Unless he was communicating with the man in it that night and had seen it parked out there other times when the same guy harassed him.” Excitement was beginning to hum in her veins. “I can have an answer on authorship for you in an hour or less.” At Adam’s nod, she pushed away from the table and rose carefully to exit the room.

  Once Macy left the room, the conversation turned much more generic. A general debriefing session, bringing all the personnel accumulated there up to date on the various parts of the case.

  And it was easy to see from the direction of the talk that the team was in the process of being dismantled. At least on CBI’s end.

  “For the most part, the remainder of our involvement will be run from headquarters in Denver,” Assistant Director Whitman was telling Raiker. “Agent Dobson will stay in house while the authorship of the ransom notes is being followed up on. Likewise, Agent in Charge Travis will remain to accompany your people on any further interviews. I’d appreciate being kept updated as things progress.” His smile was thin, and obviously not often used. “I can continue to arrange multiagency cooperation as needed.”

  In other words, Kell thought, as he shifted in his seat, the agency already had its eye on costs. With the girl back, the ransom paid, the situation could be construed as successfully concluded.

  Except for the matter of the person responsible still being at large. He pushed back his chair to rise. Caught Raiker’s gaze on him.

  “Where are you headed?”

  Feeling trapped, he drawled, “I was going to see how Macy’s doing.”

  “She’s fine and doesn’t need to be disturbed. Grab a coat and go see what Jonesy is working on today,” Raiker snapped. “We need final results on all the evidence transferred back here.”

  “Can’t you just call him?” When the man’s expression darkened, Kell added hastily, “Okay, okay. I’ll go out to talk to him.” He didn’t think it was his imagination that Whitman smirked during the exchange. Probably enjoyed seeing him taking orders from someone.

  When he got outside a few minutes later, the snow had stopped and someone on Mulder’s well-trained staff had the drive cleared of the most recent snowfall. He yanked the hood of the parka up and ducked his head. The wind certainly hadn’t let up, and it whistled through the area between the home and the outbuildings, which were set an eighth of a mile away, he estimated, from the house.

  He lengthened his stride. He’d heard someone mention that this was the longest-sustained cold snap in the Denver for over a d
ecade. Figured it was his luck to be here to enjoy it for its duration.

  Kell almost, almost was ready to thank Raiker for this errand. Because he’d been ready to go to Macy’s room to push. That seemed to be a forte of his, so he usually went with his strengths. But he was willing to admit that after their last conversation, a little distance would do them both some good.

  Which was easy to say while they were still working in close proximity to each other. Tougher to consider if it continued once they were back in Virginia.

  He ducked into the side entrance of the employee garage thankfully. It didn’t even bear wondering what this place cost to heat in this climate. It was huge. Easily large enough for two dozen vehicles. The lab took up four of those spaces, and he headed to it now, banged on the door.

  Flipping his hood back for the moment, he looked around and pounded again. Jonesy had obviously taken the opportunity to sleep in, something that held more than a little appeal for Kell.

  Trying the door, he was faintly shocked to discover it unlocked. He let himself in, half expecting to hear Jonesy’s indignant screech. The man was a demon about wearing gowns and gloves in his domain.

  “Hey, Jonesy, you in here?” He thought he heard a noise in the back of the RV where the man’s bedroom was but didn’t want to gown up to go back and check it out. “Jonesy?”

  “Yeah, yeah.” The man came out wearing a long red robe emblazoned with a huge dragon. When he belted it, the tie looked like the dragon had its tongue out, panting. “Haven’t gotten going yet this morning. Raiker didn’t call.” Then his eyes widened. “Did he?”

  “No, he sent me out to be errand boy instead.” Gingerly, he propped his elbow on a counter to lean against, half expecting the man to chastise him for that. “He wants an update on every piece of evidence that was transferred to this lab.”

  Jonesy didn’t appear to be listening. His eyes kept shifting to the closed door behind him. “Uh-huh.”

  “So I don’t know where you’re at on the tests.” Kell narrowed his gaze as the man took yet another quick look in back of him. “But Raiker definitely wants . . . what the hell has gotten into you?”

  “Mr. Komodo.” A teasing voice drifted out of the back room. One that was vaguely familiar. “Have you regained your fire-breathing capacities yet?”

  “Dude.” Kell couldn’t prevent a laugh. “You’ve got a dragon under that robe? Nice trick.”

  Jonesy looked panicked. “No. Listen, tell Raiker I’ll get right on it.”

  “On . . .” Brows raised, Kell waited invitingly. “Does she know you’re calling her an it?”

  Desperation edging his expression now, Jonesy approached him, talking rapidly. “You’ve got to leave. Now. I’ll call Raiker. Tell him we talked. Go on.”

  “Alfred? Maybe I’m the one who should breathe a little fire.” There was a deep-throated laugh. “I’ll bet I know a way to make Mr. Komodo stand at attention.”

  The scientist—who at the moment looked like anything but—frantically shooed Kell away with his hands. But Kell frowned. God, that voice was familiar.

  Then his eyes widened incredulously. “You’ve got Trimball in there?”

  “Shhh.” The man’s eyes were imploring. “Yes, it’s Nellie. That’s why you really have to go.”

  He needed no further urging. Kell straightened with an abruptness that had his head hitting the overhead cupboard. “Don’t let her come out here.” God, he so didn’t need that sight branded on his mind.

  Oddly enough, Jonesy seemed to take offense. “She’s really quite lovely. And . . . uh . . . very talented.”

  “I’m going, I’m going.” Kell practically broke a leg trying to get out the door. “Say no more. Please don’t.” Safely out the door, he slammed it and leaned against it for a moment for good measure.

  But once outside, his sense of humor kicked in again. A wide grin split his face as he headed for the exit. That was a narrow escape. All women were definitely not created equal because he’d had a far different response seeing Macy naked this morning.

  Ready for the wind this time, he ducked out of the garage and jogged across the pavement. She might have thought he hadn’t appreciated the sight, but he’d been pissed, not dead. And he hadn’t seen her naked often enough for the image of her, flushed and pink from the shower, to have no effect on him.

  But it had been the bruises scrawled across her skin that had caught his attention at the time. He knew he should be concerned at the way she had of crawling inside his skin. Setting up camp there. But he was pretty sure concern would be a waste of effort.

  Far better to figure out what the hell he was going to do about it.

  The soft knock at the her door distracted Macy from the incoming test results. “Yes?”

  When it opened to reveal Ellie Mulder, Macy’s lips curved. “Well, hello. Come in.”

  “Hi, Ms. Reid.” As the girl entered, Macy saw her parents right behind her.

  “Ellie has been asking about you since her return.” Althea smoothed her daughter’s hair. “But we wanted to be sure you were up and around before we let her bother you.”

  “I’m fine. I’m so happy things worked out the way they did.” She got up from the desk chair she was using. “How are you?” Macy addressed this to Ellie.

  She shrugged, looked up at her mom.

  “The doctor was most worried about the scabs on her wrists, but he thinks she’ll be fine. She’ll see him again in a few days.”

  “We can’t thank you enough.” Stephen Mulder’s voice, his expression, was full of emotion. “But we wanted to tell you how much we appreciated what you did for our daughter.”

  “You’re welcome.” Macy’s gaze went to the girl’s. Held it. “But Ellie did the hard part herself. The dog couldn’t have picked up her scent if she hadn’t been smart enough to escape. We wouldn’t have continued the search if we hadn’t known there was a shelter and that it was white.” She was rewarded when the girl smiled, just a little. “I told her yesterday how much I admire her. That’s still true.”

  She noticed the look between the two parents. “If there’s something we could do,” Althea started delicately. “Some way we could show our appreciation . . .”

  Macy was taken aback for a moment. Then, eyes still on the girl, she said slowly, “Well, there is one thing.” And observed that she had all three family members’ attention. “I’d like you to ask Ellie’s opinion of her tutor.”

  The girl frowned, clearly at a loss. She lifted a shoulder. “He’s o—” Then she stopped. Looked from Macy to her parents. “I don’t like him. And he doesn’t like me. I don’t want to work with him anymore.”

  Stephen and Althea looked nonplussed. Stephen recovered first. “Baby, all you had to do was tell us that. I would have gotten rid of him. But you wouldn’t have been working with him anymore at any rate. He’s turned in his resignation.”

  The girl sent a shy smile to Macy. “I want to be just like you someday.”

  “You’ll be better than me,” she responded, her throat tight. “Smarter. Braver. Stronger. I want to be more like you.”

  “Well, we can see you’re working and don’t want to disturb you any further.” Stephen began herding his family toward the door. “Please don’t leave without stopping to speak to us. I know Ellie would like to say good-bye.”

  “I won’t.”

  When they were gone, she slid weakly into the chair again. Emotional scenes could be even more exhausting than the action-packed one of a night ago. Once again her attention turned to the computer. She printed all the results, lining them up to study them closely.

  A familiar hammering of excitement started in her veins. Without a second thought she reached for her cell phone and dialed Raiker. “I’ve got a match.”

  “On which?”

  She stared at the sheets of paper again. “The same person authored both boys’ Facebook messages.” She drew a breath, unable to tear her eyes away from the results.

  “An
d the person who sent the messages to the boys is the same one who wrote the ransom notes.”

  “We appreciate your cooperation,” Agent Travis assured Nancy Elliott gravely. “We just need to ask your son a few more questions about the chat rooms he frequents.”

  David Elliott’s head came up swiftly. “It’s okay, Mom. I’ll talk to them.”

  She looked uncertain. “I’ll stay, too.”

  “Mom.” The boy managed to imbue the word with pained adolescence. “I’ve got homework tonight, and you were going to try to cook dinner early, remember?”

  “It’s all right.” Kell gave her a smile. “We won’t keep him long.”

  She looked torn, but eventually she gave a jerky nod and headed into the next room, leaving them in the dining room.

  “Here’s the thing.” Kell turned to the boy, all semblance of friendliness gone. They had a lot to accomplish and not much time to do it in. “We know you hang out in chat rooms. That you were probably talking to someone who didn’t turn out to be who they said they were.”

  The boy shook his head so hard it threatened to fly off. “I don’t know what you guys are talking about.”

  “You do, David. And if you waste our time proving it to you, your mom is going to be back in here and she’ll hear the whole sordid story. That’s okay with us.” Kell lifted his shoulders. “We’re doing you a favor here.”

  David’s gaze dropped to the oak tabletop. “Okay, maybe there was someone. I thought it was a chick though. She sent pictures. She’s hot.”

  “And did she ask you to send pictures back?”

  He gave a jerky nod.

  “How long did that go on?”

  Swallowing, the kid said, “I don’t know. A few weeks. Then she started getting sort of weird and I didn’t talk to her anymore.”

  “Except then you started getting messages in your Facebook account, right?” When the boy didn’t answer, Agent Travis pressed on. “And they weren’t from a girl; they were from a man.”