Profile for Seduction

by Karen Whiddon

  Dutifully, Lea promised. Her cell phone chirped as they headed to the car. She had a text message. From Feiney.

  Chapter 3

  Shoving the phone back in her pocket, Lea moved briskly.

  Back in the car, Marc glanced at her as he turned the key.

  “Well?”

  “Feiney sent me a text.”

  “What’s it say?”

  She looked uncharacteristically hesitant. “Ah, jeez. I really don’t want to tell you.”

  That made no sense. “Why not?”

  She shook her head.

  “Let me see it.” He threaded his voice with steel. “Or tell me. What’d he have to say?”

  Still she hesitated. Finally, she handed him the phone.

  He powered up the display. “‘Guess where I am now?’” he read aloud.

  “‘Visiting a special girl’s grave, sweetheart. Your predecessor, the one that died when you came to take her place. And I’ll stop by the other two graves, too. I’ll be sure to leave them some daisies, since they were always your favorite.’”

  “That SOB,” Marc said, his stomach churning. “This is below the belt, even for him.”

  “There’s nothing he won’t stoop to doing. You know that.”

  “Reading this makes me want to hit something. Anything, as long at it breaks.” His voice shook.

  Lea stared at him. “You know, maybe we have more in common than I thought.”

  He let that statement go. For now. Clenching his fists, he glared at the traffic outside. “That sorry sack of…”

  With a squeal of tires, he yanked the wheel and wedged his car in between two cars in the lane to the right. Horns honked as the other drivers tried to avoid them. Furious, he cut over to the shoulder and accelerated, stomping down the gas and sending them careening toward the Hillcrest exit.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  He shot her a shuttered glance. “Heading toward the cemetery. That son of a bitch had better not defile those girls’ graves. Their families have been through enough.”

  “You know where they’re buried?”

  “Of course. Three of them are in the same cemetery. I visit their graves every so often.”

  Because they were the ones he hadn’t been able to save.

  “He won’t be there.” Lea crossed her arms. “But his flowers will. He knows daisies make me want to puke.”

  “Because he brought them to you when you were his prisoner.” While she had recuperated, Marc had studied her case, haunted by the shell-shocked woman he’d carried out from hell. Feiney had held her prisoner for two weeks, leaving scars Marc could hardly bear to think about.

  Because of him. If he hadn’t failed her… He cut off the thought, concentrating on driving, wishing he had his own patrol car—complete with siren and lights rather than the undercover sedan.

  “It takes twenty minutes to get there,” she pointed out, an odd hitch in her voice. “Feiney will be long gone by then.”

  Suddenly, he knew why. “You don’t want to see the flowers, do you?”

  “No, I don’t,” she admitted.

  Drumming his fingers on the wheel, he braked to avoid a slow truck. “You can wait in the car. I want those flowers off those graves.”

  “You do realize he’s playing a game, don’t you? He’s pulling my strings like I’m his puppet.” Bitterness colored her tone. “Right now, he’s got the upper hand.”

  “Not if you refuse to play.” Though he’d spoken off the top of his head, he realized he’d spoken the truth. They didn’t have to let Feiney jerk them around.

  “What do you mean, refuse to play? How can I do that?”

  “Simple. By not doing what he wants. He wants us to go to the cemetery. You’re right, we shouldn’t.”

  “And what will that accomplish?”

  “Drawing him out. If we can make him react to us rather than the other way around, we’ll be in control. If we’re in control, we stand a much better chance of capturing him.”

  Silence again while she chewed on that. “What about the graves?” she finally said. “I tend to agree with you—I don’t want that bastard’s daisies anywhere near there.”

  “We’ll call the cemetery office and get them to remove the flowers. I guarantee, if we don’t react, Feiney will call us again much more quickly.”

  “You may have a point,” she conceded. “Except for one thing. Marc, there is no we. You’re on the team, I’m not. Anything I do, I’m doing on my own.”

  He decided to let that statement go. “Why won’t your mother leave?”

  She sighed. “My family’s been in law enforcement for generations. My mom expects danger and thinks she can somehow protect her children. Both my brothers live out of town, but I’m the youngest.”

  Drumming her fingers on the dashboard, she grimaced. “I’ve got to get her out of town. I don’t want to take a chance that Feiney will try to hurt her. She’s my only family member here locally and she’s alone. She’s the only vulnerability I have.”

  “Why not have her taken into protective custody? She’d qualify.”

  She sighed. “Because she’d refuse. I know her.”

  “And you’re positive she won’t go to Vegas?”

  “Yes. There’s no way she’ll leave unless I go with her.”

  “Maybe you should consider it,” he suggested.

  “Don’t start. If you really believe I could do that, you and I can never be partners.”

  He gave her a long look. Finally, he nodded slowly. “I know what you mean. Sorry.”

  “Apology accepted.” Then she actually smiled.

  He took that as encouragement. “Hell, I have to admit, I’d do the same thing,” he said. “You’re determined to throw yourself back into the fray, whether or not you have the Bureau’s blessing, aren’t you?”

  Though she didn’t respond, the stubborn set of her chin gave her away. Despite warnings, she wanted to confront Feiney, face him down and win. Part of him had to admire that.

  The other part found it sheer madness.

  Yet he’d been fully aware of what she’d do when he’d decided to help her.

  Traffic slowed to a crawl.

  “Does that mean we’ll be working together?” he asked.

  She glared at him. “I guess so.”

  Her grudging capitulation made him laugh.

  “I’m glad you think it’s funny,” she snapped.

  He sobered instantly. “Do you know how long it’s been since I laughed? Really laughed?”

  “Sorry.” This time, she touched him, the gesture meant to comfort. The touch made him yearn for more, a desire so strong, so foreign—so wrong—that he suddenly jerked away. His elbow connected painfully with the door as she looked at him with surprise.

  “Don’t,” he said, his voice sharp. Then because he wanted to be honest, he needed to be honest, he softened his tone. “Sorry.”

  She nodded and said nothing, making him feel worse. Around her he felt like a wire stretched to the breaking point. Worse, he didn’t understand why. All he wanted to do was fix a bad mistake, capture Feiney and hopefully get on with his life.

  Outside, I-635 had turned into a parking lot. All four lanes of traffic had come to a complete halt.

  Since they weren’t going anywhere now, he wasn’t in any hurry. Instead, he studied Lea while she made a call to the cemetery, asking them to remove the flowers.

  “They said they’ll take care of it,” she said. “I got a harried secretary. She said something about having three funerals to work on today. Until I told her I was with the FBI, she acted like getting rid of the daisies was low priority.”

  “As long as it gets done… But she was able to confirm that someone had visited the graves?”

  “Yeah. She said the groundskeepers had been talking about it.” She shuddered with revulsion. “They’d never seen so many daisies in their lives. From the sounds of things, he brought a truckload of them.”

  “Whe
re’s he getting the resources to do all of this? We shut down his bank accounts when he went to prison.”

  “He told me he had people. Most likely fans he communicated with over the Internet or something.” She looked over at him. “Remember, he was an electronics wizard before he got caught. Had his own Web site and everything. Someone kept it going, even while he was incarcerated.”

  Marc swore. “I should have known.”

  She settled back in her seat, crossing her arms. “What’s your plan?”

  Though the abrupt change in topic took him by surprise, he didn’t allow it to show on his face. “Well, I hate to put it this way, but he wants you. You want him. I want him.”

  After a moment, she snorted. “You want to use me as bait.”

  “Don’t you?” he shot back. “It’s the only plan that makes sense.”

  “True. But I’m surprised that you’re admitting it.”

  “I tend to agree with you that it’s a workable plan.” He offered her a grim smile. “And I think you know that it’ll be a hell of a lot more difficult without backup.”

  “So I agree that with you on my side,” she said, “maybe we can do this the right way, the official way. I think you should try and get me back on the team.”

  “No. Too much red tape.” Taking a deep breath, he switched lanes. “Plus you were in that meeting earlier. You heard Stan. There’s no way in hell he’d allow that.”

  “Are you going to tell them what you’re doing?”

  “No,” he confessed. “I’m doing this without official sanction. We should be clear on that.”

  “So you’re going to remain on the official team?”

  “Yes.”

  She shook her head. “It’s a fine line you’re proposing to walk here. Almost like a double agent.”

  “Not that extreme. I can see a way I can accomplish both, can’t you? Plus, I can tell you anything they learn.”

  Slowly, she nodded. “You’re willing to work outside the law? Despite the fact that you could lose your job?”

  “Yes.” He took a deep breath, wondering how much to tell her. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get Feiney. I want to be the one to capture him.”

  Her mouth twisted. “So do I. As if that will actually make me feel better.”

  “You never know.” How to make her understand? Dragging his hand through his hair, he considered her. Even now, especially now, he found her beautiful and infinitely desirable. He’d wanted her back before he’d blown it and, even though he knew he was the last person she’d ever want, he couldn’t seem to help how he felt about her.

  “If you put it on paper, in black and white, it doesn’t make sense,” she mused, oblivious to the turmoil inside him.

  “Yes, it does. You were wrong about one thing back in the meeting. There is one other person who wants Feiney as badly as you do. Me. I want the bastard so bad I can taste it.”

  “You sound as if it was personal for you.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe it was.” More than she knew.

  Staring out at the sea of traffic, she said nothing. When she spoke again, she changed the subject. “We still need some sort of plan. We can’t just sit back and let the team try to catch him while we do nothing.”

  “I agree. Using you as bait is the best idea we’ve had so far. We need to make Feiney come to us. Hell, he’s already declared he plans to get you back.”

  “True,” she agreed. “But it’s a cat-and-mouse game to him. We can’t make it too easy, or he’ll suspect something is up. And if we make it too difficult, there’s a chance he could try for my mother. Not to mention the public we have to protect.”

  “The FBI and the police will be all over that. I think we can leave protecting the public to them. We’re only two.”

  “True,” she concurred in a neutral voice.

  “And about making it too difficult… Personally, I think Feiney would relish the challenge. We just have to come up with a foolproof plan.”

  Since they both knew there was no such thing, she didn’t comment.

  While he negotiated the traffic, finally exiting at Hillcrest, she sat silently.

  “I’ve thought about it.” Lea lifted her chin. He was beginning to recognize the gesture. “Maybe this will work. But you can’t get in my way.”

  “Agreed.”

  She peered at him, still suspicious. “I swear, if you have some master plan—”

  “Like what?”

  “Like trying to protect me. I can take care of myself.”

  “No doubt. But my only plan is catching Feiney. That’s all I want.” But how would she react if he were to tell her he wanted to make certain the bastard never touched another woman again? Would she share the sentiment?

  She studied him, letting her gaze trace over his features. “You know what? I believe you.”

  “You should.” He didn’t crack a smile, well aware of how fragile the ground was where he stood.

  For the space of a heartbeat, she hesitated. As the silence stretched out, he held his breath.

  “Okay, then.” She held out her hand. “Partners.”

  Finally, he could exhale.

  Keeping one hand on the wheel, he gave her fingers a quick squeeze and flashed her a small smile. “Thank you.”

  “Do you have anything specific in mind?” she asked.

  Straight to the point. He liked that. A girl after his own heart.

  “I do. Or at least I have the beginning of an idea. First, I’m moving in with you. Or you can move in with me, your choice. But I really think we should stay in the same space.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  “Again, to better the trap.” He took a deep breath. “I want to be on-site when Feiney comes for you.”

  “What’s the cover story? As you said earlier, no doubt Feiney’s been keeping tabs on me.”

  He kept his voice as matter-of-fact as hers. “Boyfriend-girlfriend.”

  “He’ll know I haven’t been with anyone since…”

  He understood. “It’ll be a new relationship. One that developed as a result of his escape. You were afraid, you turned to me.”

  “The one who rescued me.” She nodded. “You know what? It just might work. Do you think Feiney will buy it?”

  “Why shouldn’t he? I was first responder. I visited you in the hospital. We could have struck up a relationship, even if it was only friendship.”

  The fact that they hadn’t had been one of his greatest regrets. He’d loved her from the moment he saw her. Though he’d never had parents or brothers or sisters, she made him want what he’d never had, a family. But she despised him. That hurt, yet he could understand. He’d hate him, too, if he were in her place. He’d completely let her down. A debt he could only try to repay.

  “True. We could have become friends.” She sounded surprised at the idea, as well she should. “I guess.”

  Not trusting himself to speak, he raised a brow.

  “Don’t take it personally,” she clarified. Then, shaking her head, she appeared to catch herself. “Actually, the truth is, it was personal. Sorry.”

  “Because when you look at me, you think of him.”

  She swallowed, loudly enough for him to hear. “Yes.”

  “Maybe if we get him, that will change.”

  “Maybe.” She didn’t sound too sure. But then, she had no idea what he planned to do.

  “Back to the plan. My place or yours?”

  She gave him a tense, tight-lipped smile. “We’ll stay at my place,” she said. “I’m more comfortable there and it will seem more normal to Feiney.”

  He continued to keep his expression impassive. “Excellent idea. Especially since he probably is aware of where you live.”

  “No doubt.” She thought for a moment. “You need to bring some stuff. If he searches the house, he won’t find men’s things. That could be a problem.”

  “We’ll stop at my place so I can grab some clothes.”

  “And a tooth
brush.”

  Traffic remained at a standstill. In the distance, sirens wailed.

  “Must be a bad accident.” He’d never been one to wait patiently and hated both traffic and crowds. Part of being one of several kids crammed into a single room at various foster homes. But sitting in the car with her, the jangling inside him had quieted. Remarkable, and something he didn’t understand.

  Her cell phone chirped again. Another text.

  You only think I’ve taken what matters. But I haven’t even gotten started.

  “Jeez.” She snapped the phone shut. “More vague threats.”

  A chill filled the air. Both knew exactly what Gerald Feiney was capable of.

  Finally, they neared an exit.

  “Where to now?” he asked.

  “I think we should go back to the FBI offices.”

  Unsurprised, he kept his relaxed posture. "Having second thoughts?"

  “About working with you? No, not really. First, I need to pick up my car. And second, you are on the team. You know as well as I do that they’re having strategy meetings now. You’d better get back there before they start looking for you.”

  “They won’t be. Their office is working with mine, but separately. They’ve simply agreed to keep me apprised of any developments.”

  “And you’ve agreed to do the same?”

  “Exactly. Though, as I’m sure you know, the FBI has infinitely better resources than I do.”

  “That might be true, but I’m thinking you can make an educated guess as to his next move.”

  He gave a slow nod, knowing she wouldn’t like his answer, but also aware that on some level she had to be expecting it. “He’s been cooped up in prison for six months. He’ll kill someone, if only to get his sense of power going again.”

  She drew her breath in sharply. “That’s what I thought. How long until he makes a move?”

  “Soon. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe even tonight. He’ll grab someone as soon as possible. The media’s already been alerted.”

  And as usual, the public would ignore the warnings.

  “And my office will have people staking out the bars as well, right?” she asked.

  “I’m sure they will. But he seems to have a sixth sense about spotting undercover operatives.”