by LENA DIAZ,
“Do you have family in Savannah?”
“Sure, my mom and dad. Why?”
“You wouldn’t mind leaving them behind?”
“I’d miss them, but I’d come back to visit.”
He gave her an odd look and focused on his computer again. Did he think she was wrong to be willing to move away? For heaven’s sake, she’d left home when she was eighteen. Her parents didn’t expect her to live her entire life in the same city as them. They would understand that her career came first.
She shook her head. None of that mattered. It was all hypothetical. What mattered right now was pouring all her experience and energy into figuring out who the killer was. The rest would work itself out.
“Why does this matter so much to you?” Matt asked.
“Sorry?”
“Finding killers, serial killers in particular. You’re obviously familiar with all the main players at Quantico. And there’s more to your excitement, to your drive, than hoping for a promotion. So what is it?”
Her enthusiasm faded beneath his question. How could she tell him about the dreams, the nightmares, that had plagued her off and on for most of her life? She’d never told anyone about them before, not even her parents. Her dreams were of unspeakable evil, a man in the shadows, a little boy, a toddler, with curly brown hair and terrified eyes begging Tessa to help him. Other faces, of men and women, much older, with accusing eyes, as if she was somehow responsible for whatever horrors they’d suffered. They all pleaded for her help, but she’d never known what to do.
“Tessa?” His eyes narrowed with concern.
She shied away from sharing the horrifying details but decided he’d earned the truth, or at least a piece of it. “Nightmares. That’s why this matters, why I do this. To make my nightmares go away.”
His blue eyes softened with sympathy. “Is it working?”
She clutched her hands in her lap. “Not yet.”
The door to the squad room opened and six of her fellow agents from the Savannah office came in, carrying boxes and laptop cases. Several of them nodded at her as the police officers led them to desks around the room, desks that had been cleared out once Casey told the police chief how many people to expect.
Finally, her boss glanced her way and motioned for her to join him.
Her pulse leaped and she shoved her chair back from the table. She grabbed a pad of paper and a pen.
“Come on, Matt. Casey wants to see us.”
“I’m pretty sure he just wants to see you. I’ll wait.”
She tugged him out of his chair.
“These are important people,” she said. “They could mean a lot to your career too. They can send great cases your way. And I’m not going to ignore your contribution to this investigation. You’re the reason this task force was put together. You deserve the credit.”
His brows rose in surprise, but he didn’t fight her. He followed her as she hurried through the squad room toward her boss. Someone called out her name and she half turned to see one of the Savannah agents waving at her. She waved back, but she wasn’t looking where she was going and her feet tangled up in the cords by one of the desks.
She started to pitch forward, but suddenly Matt was there, catching her around the waist, pulling her against him.
He lifted his hand and brushed her hair out of her eyes. “Are you okay?”
She stared at him in horror. “Are you insane?” she whispered. “Don’t touch me. Let me go.”
He frowned but dropped his hands.
Tessa straightened her clothing and glanced casually across the room at Carter, the agent who’d called her name. Judging by his smirk, he’d caught the whole tender exchange, with Matt brushing her hair back.
Wonderful.
“Tessa?” Casey sounded impatient now as he waved for her to join him.
She cleared her throat. “Come on, Matt. Casey’s waiting.” She squelched the flare of guilt that shot through her at the way his face had tightened into a stiff mask. Yes, he’d saved her from a fall, but did he really have to add that special moment for everyone to see? It would be a miracle if her peers didn’t hear about it, especially since the agent who’d seen them was the biggest gossip in the office.
At least her boss had missed that moment. He greeted them as if nothing untoward had happened. Then he spoke to the man across from him. “This is Special Agent Tessa James, and the private investigator who consulted on the case, Matt Buchanan.”
Tessa noted the past tense of “consulted.” Matt obviously noticed as well, because a look of disappointment flashed across his face as he shook hands with the head of the BAU.
“Mr. Buchanan,” Casey continued, “used a computer program he designed to find links between the letters we discussed and the homicide cases that we’re now investigating. And Agent James has been driving the investigation and refused to give up, even though the rest of us were ready to file this away as a cold case. Because of her diligence and determination, people’s lives will be saved.”
Tessa shook hands all around, the incident with Matt no longer seeming important as she accepted praise from the men surrounding her. Finally, after all her years of hard work, she was one of the boys, an equal, on her way up, getting the respect she’d craved for so long.
“Tessa,” Casey said, “I’d like you to be in charge of the murder books for both Sharon Johnson and John Crawford. You can consolidate the investigations the chief performed with your findings. You’ll ensure smooth communication and coordination on those cases, with all the departments and agencies involved.”
She swallowed hard. Setting up the murder books for the task force was a huge show of faith. Casey was essentially telling these important men that he trusted her abilities, that she was a key member of the team.
“You can go ahead and start setting that up. The chief ensured we have supplies in the conference room next to his office. And some of our Savannah agents will bring in the evidence from our office so you can catalog that in the book as well. I’ll be in as soon as we’re done here.”
“Will do. Thank you, sir.”
“Mr. Buchanan,” Casey said, “the FBI greatly appreciates your assistance in developing leads on this case. But now that we have the task force, your services are no longer needed. If you don’t mind waiting with Special Agent James, I’ll talk to you in a few minutes and wrap everything up.”
Tessa stiffened and was about to remind her boss that they wouldn’t even have this task force if it weren’t for Matt. But, as if sensing what she was about to do, Matt moved slightly in front of her and cleared his throat.
She realized he was trying to keep her from saying something she would later regret. So, instead, she remained silent until they reached the conference room.
When the door closed behind her, Tessa whirled around. “I’m sorry, about when I stumbled. You caught me, and I appreciate it. I just—”
He held up his hand. “It’s forgotten.”
She gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you.” Her smile faded. “I can’t believe Casey is letting you go early. It doesn’t make sense. Who knows what other kinds of leads you could generate if he gives you a chance? We wouldn’t even have a case if it weren’t for you.”
“Thank you for your outrage on my behalf,” he said. “But it’s not necessary. I’m not hurting for clients or money, so cutting this contract short isn’t a big deal.”
“But it is a big deal. You deserve the credit. It could garner you bigger and better contracts.”
“Whether the FBI thinks highly of me or not doesn’t concern me. Seriously. It doesn’t matter. Shouldn’t you be working on those murder books?”
Murder books. The excitement she’d felt earlier flared back to life. Setting up a murder book—the physical and electronic files that would guide the investigation—was an honor. She couldn’t screw this up. She was anxious to get started, but saying good-bye suddenly seemed like the hardest thing she’d ever done. It shocked her to realize that she’d a
ctually enjoyed being with Matt these past few days, and that she was going to miss him.
Maybe it was a good thing that Casey was cancelling the contract. Obviously Matt was a weakness for her, and that didn’t bode well for her career. Putting some distance between them should help her regain her equilibrium and focus on what was important—her job.
“Thank you for your help. I wouldn’t have this tremendous opportunity without you.”
“I’m not so sure about that. You’re a smart, determined woman. I know you would have figured everything out, with or without me. But you do have me for a few more minutes, at least until your boss gets here. Is there anything I can do to help?”
She glanced at the office supplies lying in piles. Two computers with a printer between them were set up on the table in the middle of the room.
“Okay, yes. I could use your help. The first thing I need to do is set up a database.”
“I might know a thing or two about that,” he teased.
Twenty minutes later, they had an impressive start of a database even Quantico would be proud of.
A knock sounded on the door, and Casey stepped inside. His long strides took him quickly across the room.
“How’s it going?” he asked.
“We’ve got the basic structure set up. Matt put some controls in place to limit access, and some unique indexing that will make searches efficient and fast.”
“Sounds good. For now, I’d prefer that you not input the fingerprint details from Matt’s scanner. That will only muddy the waters, and it’s not an official, proven technology.”
“You mean, the fact that my fingerprints were on the letters?”
“We can’t prove that. And it would only clutter up the investigation.”
Some of her exuberance faded. “In other words, you believe I was sloppy and handled the letters without gloves, that my sequence of events is wrong. And you want to cover that up so I don’t embarrass our office.”
“That’s not what I said, and it’s not what I meant.”
Under the table, Matt put his hand on top of her thigh and gently squeezed. Once again, his touch threw her off-kilter just enough for her to pause, take a breath, and think. If Casey wanted to ignore a piece of evidence, so be it. She’d let it go, officially anyway.
Unofficially, she wasn’t about to ignore a fact just because it didn’t fit in with her preconceived conclusions. Matt had taught her the importance of details, of keeping all the facts at hand, no matter how trivial they may seem, because they might prove valuable in the future. The fact that her prints were on the letters was a clue. It might prove vital in stopping the killer, so she wasn’t going to just forget that little piece of information.
“All right,” she said. “I won’t catalog that information.”
Another knock sounded on the door.
“Come in,” Casey called out.
One of the agents from the Savannah office stuck his head in the doorway. “Sir, I need to speak to you for a moment, in private.”
Casey stepped outside for several minutes. When he came back in the room, his entire demeanor had changed. His back was ramrod stiff. His lips were compressed into a tight, thin line.
“What happened?” Tessa asked. “Has there been another murder?”
“No. Some evidence is missing.”
Her stomach squeezed into a tight knot.
“And from the look on your face, that isn’t a surprise. There are only twenty-two original letters and one copy. What happened to the twenty-third letter?”
Matt rose from his chair. “Sir, that’s entirely my doing. I wanted to test for particulates and I took one of the letters to my lab.”
Casey’s gaze zeroed in on Matt. “Destroying evidence in a federal investigation is a serious offense, Mr. Buchanan. Are you saying you stole the letter, without assistance or knowledge from Special Agent James?”
“Yes.”
“No,” Tessa said at the same time. “It’s my fault. Regardless of how it happened, I had a chance to stop the letter from being consumed by a lab test. Mr. Buchanan fully cooperated and was willing to return the letter. It was my decision not to do that.”
“That’s not—”
Casey held up his hand, stopping Matt. “Special Agent James, you disobeyed a direct order and destroyed evidence pertinent to an ongoing investigation. The only reason I’m not arresting you and Mr. Buchanan right now is because of the leads you’ve developed. I gave you the order not to take any of the letters for a very good reason. It’s not up to you to decide which of my orders to follow. You’re off this case. And you’re suspended until further notice.”
MATT GAVE TESSA a sideways glance as they walked through the Savannah airport. If it was her intention to make him feel guilty for getting her suspended, she sure as hell knew what she was doing. He wouldn’t have minded if she’d yelled at him, or even hit him. He deserved it. But she’d been nothing but polite, and quiet, ever since the disastrous meeting with Casey.
She’d refused to talk on the ride to the airport. And since their flight home had been full, they hadn’t been able to sit near each other on the plane, which meant he still hadn’t gotten a chance to talk things out. After they’d landed, he’d hurried to catch up to her, but that hadn’t done any good either. She was glassy-eyed, staring straight ahead, murmuring one-word responses to his questions.
They reached the doors that led outside the terminal. The doors opened, letting in a blast of muggy heat.
“Come on, I’ll spring for a limo,” he said.
She followed him like a docile little lamb.
He gritted his teeth. Her calm acceptance of her fate was getting harder and harder to take. The polite shell she was hiding behind wasn’t the Tessa James he’d come to expect. Where was her fire and spirit?
He knew the answer to that. She’d left them back in Charleston, in that little conference room, when Casey had suspended her. The only reason she still had her badge was so she could use it to get through airport security, carrying both her and Matt’s guns. But her boss had made it clear that if her badge wasn’t sitting on his desk when he got back to Savannah, her suspension would be permanent.
If Matt could have a do over, he’d have slugged Casey for that, regardless of the consequences.
They got into the limo. Tessa handed him his gun, which he quickly holstered. Then she turned to look out the window.
“Tessa, the driver’s waiting for your address.”
“What? Oh. Sorry. Apartment one-twenty-one.”
“Which apartment complex?” the driver called out.
She rattled off the name, and the driver pulled away from the curb.
She hiccupped, and in the confines of the backseat Matt couldn’t miss the smell of alcohol on her breath.
He put his finger beneath her chin and urged her to look at him. “Exactly how many drinks did you have on the plane?”
She shoved his hand away. “Not enough. Leave me alone.”
This time there was no mistaking the slur in her voice.
Matt scrubbed his hands across his jaw. Great. He’d managed to drive the woman to drink. He’d definitely sunk to a new low. What was he supposed to do now? From what he’d gathered, she was a complete workaholic. He’d never heard her mention any friends he could call. And he didn’t know where her parents lived, not that she’d appreciate him dumping her drunk on their doorstep. But he couldn’t leave her home alone. Depressed and drunk weren’t a good combination, particularly for a woman who carried a Glock 17 on her hip.
When the limo pulled up to Tessa’s apartment building, Matt gauged Tessa’s condition. She was softly snoring, with an occasional hiccup. The driver opened Matt’s door.
Matt sighed and fished out a wad of cash. “I’ll take her inside. Don’t wait for me. I’ll call a cab later.”
“Thank you, sir. I’ll get her door for you if you’d like, if you have the key?”
Matt hesitated. He doubted Tessa would
appreciate him riffling through her purse. But it was either that or bust her door in. Luckily he found her keys without much difficulty. Her purse was just as organized as she was. He handed the keys to the driver and scooped Tessa into his arms.
She mumbled something against his throat and wrapped her arms around his neck, crushing her soft breasts tightly against his chest. He sent up a silent prayer for strength as his pulse jackknifed into overdrive.
The short walk to her first-floor apartment was torture. Her fingers were doing crazy things to the back of his neck as she played with his hair. He glanced down at her while the driver figured out which key to use. Her conservative white blouse had gapped open in a decidedly unconservative way, revealing a generous view of her breasts.
Matt’s mouth went dry.
The sound of a throat clearing had him jerking up his head.
The driver grinned, giving him a knowing glance as he handed Matt the keys.
“Have a nice evening, sir.”
The man’s smirk had Matt wishing he hadn’t tipped him so generously. He strode inside and kicked the door shut behind him.
He hiked Tessa up higher in his arms so he could free one of his hands to lock the door. When he looked down at her again, he groaned and sweat popped out on his forehead. Her blouse was gapping worse now, revealing the rosy tip of one breast just above her lacy bra.
He didn’t know if he’d died and gone to heaven, or hell. With great difficulty, he forced his gaze back to her face.
“Tessa, wake up.” He gently shook her. “Tessa.”
Her eyes opened to half-mast. She blinked at him, as if to focus, then frowned. “You’re Pierce’s arrogant, know-it-all baby brother.”
He sighed. “Apparently I am.”
She nodded. “Yep. Arrogant little college boy telling me what to do.” She pulled her hand down from around his neck and tapped him on the chest. “I don’t like you.”
“That’s a damn shame. Because I like you very much.” He looked around. The apartment was small, basically one open room that served as a living room to the left, dominated by a big red couch. A hallway split the back wall. An eating area sat to the right, just outside the galley-style kitchen. “Let’s get you to bed.”
