by Lara Lacombe
Feeling his broad chest pressed against her had lit sparks in her limbs that even now glowed like bright embers, ready and waiting for the opportunity to burst into flames. The misaligned kiss she’d given him had been a strange mix of sensations—the softness of his lips combined with a slight rasp of stubble on his skin. His scent had filled her nose—warm skin, a hint of detergent and a whiff of desert sage. Even though the embrace hadn’t lasted more than a few seconds, it had been enough to make her head spin and her body sit up and take notice.
So much for her resolve to keep her distance.
But I haven’t crossed the line. The realization had come to her in the early hours of the morning. Sure, she was dancing on the edge of the boundary between professional and personal, but she hadn’t stepped over it. Not yet, anyway. She could still pull back, retreat into the safety of rules and regulations and code-of-conduct statements.
But she couldn’t silence the small voice in her heart that wondered...what if?
Quinn was the first man she’d felt drawn to since Brandon’s death. Was she doing herself a disservice by trying to pretend she didn’t feel anything? Was it right for her to ignore her emotions when she might never feel this way again?
The questions had plagued her all night, and the answers were elusive and out of reach. The one thing she knew for sure was that she would have to make a decision soon, if only for her own peace of mind. This emotional limbo was exhausting and counterproductive. One way or another, she needed to choose how to proceed with Quinn—to keep things strictly professional, or cautiously explore what might lie between them.
It didn’t help that he looked handsome as ever this morning, or that he’d been waiting with coffee. His brown eyes practically shone with warmth as he watched her drink, as if he was enjoying the sight of her sipping something he’d made.
“This is great,” she said. “Thank you.”
“No problem,” he replied. “I needed a few cups to get going myself, so I figured I’d have one waiting for you. Share the wealth, and all that.”
A few cups, hmmm? she mused. Did that mean he’d had his own troubles sleeping last night?
“Which trail would you like to explore today?” He led her to his desk, and gestured to a map of the park. Highlighted yellow lines snaked over the terrain. “These are the ones I’m usually responsible for,” he said, pointing at the marked routes. “This one is where I found the first victim, and this is the one we hiked the other day.”
That left several more paths to consider. Rebecca frowned as she studied the map. The trails the killer had already used weren’t especially close to each other, so he probably wasn’t picking them based on proximity. They had both been fairly strenuous, though, which had likely suited him just fine. The tougher the course, the less chance of coming across other hikers while he was with the victim, either before or after her death. Given his choice of trails, he was probably an experienced hiker, a likelihood she added to her mental profile of the murderer.
She said as much to Quinn. He nodded. “Then I think we should try this one.” His finger landed on a route, tapping it for emphasis. “This trail is rated moderate, while the others are considered easy or beginner level. If you think he’s picking them based on difficulty, this is probably the one he’d go for next.”
“Then that’s the trail we’ll check out first,” she declared.
It didn’t take long to collect their packs and load up on water. The sun was still climbing in the sky as they set out, and the light breeze held a hint of chill that triggered goose bumps on Rebecca’s arms. She shivered a bit, grateful for the light jacket she wore. Quinn chuckled.
“Enjoy it while it lasts,” he said. “You know how warm it can get here.”
“That’s true,” she replied. “I’m not complaining.”
They walked without speaking for a few minutes, birdsong and the chirping of unseen insects providing a soundtrack as they moved. Finally, Quinn asked, “What exactly are you hoping to find on the trail?”
“Nothing,” she replied. “But what I’d like to do is stake out positions where we can install motion-triggered cameras, or perhaps even camouflage a police officer who can monitor activity along the path. The first two women were killed exactly a week apart, which means we have a little time before he’s going to strike again. If we have someone waiting for him, we should be able to stop him before he makes another move”
“That would be great,” Quinn said. He sounded almost relieved, and clearly hoped the ordeal would be over soon.
Rebecca sympathized—the sooner she wrapped up this case, the better, at least from the perspective of saving lives. But part of her was reluctant to leave Quinn and the possibilities he represented.
Don’t get ahead of yourself. She couldn’t take for granted this approach was going to actually catch the killer. He’d been smart so far, and it was probably going to take a healthy dose of luck to trap him in the act. Still, she felt good about this strategy; it definitely had the potential to work.
They reached the top of a small incline and began to descend. Rebecca’s gaze snagged on a flash of color about a hundred yards away. She squinted, trying to bring it into focus. At this distance, she couldn’t make out the object, but the flash of bright blue was unnatural and out of place in this landscape of browns, reds and oranges.
She stopped, dread filling her stomach and weighing down her limbs. Quinn drew up next to her. “What’s wrong?” His face was etched with concern as he looked at her. He reached out, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Are you okay? Do you feel sick?”
Rebecca shook her head, knowing she had to tell him but wishing she could avoid it. He’d taken the first two deaths so hard... Finding a third body was going to really hurt him.
“I—I think I see something.” She swallowed and jerked her chin in the direction of the trail. “Down there.”
His face drained of color and he tightened his grip on her shoulders. “I see.” He turned to look, scanning the terrain ahead. She felt him jerk and knew he’d seen what she had.
“Let me go check it out,” she said, reaching up to cover one of his hands with her own. “It might be nothing. Maybe some trash.”
“Maybe,” he said, but they both knew it was a lie.
“I’ll be right back.”
“No.” He kept his hands on her, refusing to let go even as she took a step down the path. “No, I’m not letting you go alone.”
“Quinn, you don’t have to see this.”
He smiled, but there was no joy in the expression. “I know what it’s like to find them,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not letting you do that alone. Besides, what if the killer is still around, watching and waiting?”
It was a possibility, but Rebecca doubted it. The man wasn’t ready to be caught yet, and he wouldn’t take a chance of being discovered. “Are you sure?”
He nodded, his spine straightening. “Yes. We do this together.”
“I hope I’m wrong,” she said as they set off down the trail.
“I hope so, too.”
But she wasn’t.
* * *
He pressed the binoculars to his eyes, his gaze locked on the scene below.
Quinn was walking toward the body, his stiff movements making it clear he knew what he was going to find. He smiled as he watched Quinn approach. “This time is different,” he said to himself. “I hope you enjoy your little gift, Gallagher.”
After strangling Crystal and arranging her body in the characteristic position, he’d left a message for Quinn. Nothing more than his name spelled out in small rocks and words scrawled in the dirt, but hopefully it was enough to get under the man’s skin.
He’d climbed up to this vantage point a few hours ago, needing to watch the scene for the moment of discovery. He hadn’t been able to spy on the first two victims, and in tr
uth, he hadn’t known for certain if Quinn would be the one to discover this one. But it seemed luck was on his side...
Who was the woman with Quinn, though? Lovely red hair, almost the exact shade he tried to find... The pair of them walked together, and as they approached the body, he saw her take Quinn’s hand in a gesture of support. She clearly knew what to expect, but she didn’t seem flustered or too upset. A professional, then, he surmised. A cop? Maybe even a federal agent?
Pleasure bloomed in his chest at the thought that his actions were receiving national attention. But the sensation was quickly snuffed out. It was only one woman; if the authorities were really taking him seriously, there should be a task force involved, not a lone officer probably dispatched as a matter of course.
He took a deep breath, pushing aside his disappointment and anger. This was simply the beginning. It was going to take time to ruin Gallagher’s life, and succumbing to impatience would only wreck his plan.
They had reached the body now. Quinn and the woman were crouched down, clearly talking. Quinn had his radio to his mouth and she pulled out a cell phone. They were likely calling in the authorities, which meant it was time for him to leave. He was far enough away that he wasn’t worried about being seen, but he didn’t want to risk running into any police as they made their way to the site. Besides, he had other plans...
He smiled as he began to walk down the mountain trail. Stay tuned, Quinn. This isn’t over yet.
Chapter 8
“You okay?”
Quinn jerked his shoulder in a shrug, keeping his eyes on the trail in front of them. It was midafternoon and the police had just finished collecting the body. The team from the coroner’s office pushed a gurney over the rocky terrain, their pace awkward and slow. Quinn and Rebecca trailed a respectful distance behind the procession as they headed back to the ranger station.
“As good as I can be, under the circumstances,” he said finally. Part of him still couldn’t believe there was another body, another woman dead. The needless loss of life both angered and saddened him in equal measure. He’d never seen this woman before, but she looked young, like the others. She should be working or going to college, dreaming about future plans. Not zipped into a body bag being jostled down a trail.
“This is the first time he’s left you a message.” It wasn’t a question, but Quinn nodded.
“Yes.” As if finding the young woman hadn’t been bad enough. Quinn had felt a literal shock zap his system when he’d seen his name spelled out in small rocks. The killer had also used a stick or something similar to etch out a message in the dirt—having fun yet?
The question was grotesque and out of place, considering the situation. Quinn swallowed hard as he pictured the words, feeling like he’d been punched in the gut. There was no denying it now—the killer was definitely targeting him, as sure as he was picking off those innocent women. But who would do such a thing? And why was this psycho involving Quinn in his sick deeds?
“I think it’s time we take a hard look at your associates and friends,” Rebecca said.
“My friends would never do something like this,” he said reflexively. It made him sick to his stomach to think that someone he cared about and spent time with was capable of committing such heinous acts. Surely the type of person who killed without remorse would bear some kind of mark or display a sign of their internal evil, something to warn people away.
Rebecca’s earlier words flashed through his mind: Like it or not, we have more in common with these guys than we care to admit. Logically, he knew she was right. But he couldn’t accept the idea that one of his friends could be responsible for these crimes.
“I know it’s difficult to imagine the killer is someone you know,” Rebecca said softly. “But whoever is doing this has singled you out. And his behavior is escalating.”
Quinn frowned. “Escalating? You mean, because of the message?”
Rebecca nodded. “That, and the fact he’s killed again so soon. The interval between the first two victims was one week. This woman was targeted after only five days. The next victim might appear in five days, if he’s setting a new pattern, or he might strike again before that.”
Quinn’s heart dropped. “Oh, God,” he whispered.
“He wants your attention,” Rebecca said. “He’s not content for you to be a passive participant anymore. He left that message deliberately to draw you in, to force you to respond.”
“If I give him what he wants, will he stop killing?” Maybe there was something he could do, something he could say that would appease this sicko and keep his future victims safe. The thought of engaging with such a monster filled him with disgust, but he would do it if that’s what was necessary.
“No.” Rebecca didn’t hesitate, and her answer left no room for doubt. “He’s not going to stop, no matter what he might say. But if you do engage with him, it might distract him enough to get him to make a mistake.”
“How do I do that? We don’t even know who he is. It’s not like I can call him up and say, ‘What do you want from me?’”
“True, but we can craft a response and have you interviewed by the local news stations. Maybe even put out a message that the killer might see.”
Quinn nodded, feeling defeated. “Do what you think is best. I’ll cooperate.”
Her touch was light on his arm, but he drew comfort from the contact nonetheless. “I know you will.”
“I’ll draw up a list of my friends and coworkers,” he said. “They won’t be hard to find.”
“What about enemies?” Rebecca asked. “Whoever is doing this is trying to hurt you. Can you think of anyone who might be motivated to cause you harm?”
Quinn considered the question, thinking about all the people he knew. “I don’t usually make it a point to socialize with people who don’t seem to like me,” he said. And he generally shied away from the kind of drama that would lead to making enemies.
“What about coworkers?” Rebecca persisted. “Were you promoted over anyone, or has anything happened that might leave someone with hard feelings?”
“Well...” He trailed off as a few possibilities occurred to him. “I did get a title bump last summer. Nothing major, but there were three of us being considered and I was the one they picked.”
“Anything else?”
He frowned, remembering. “I have had a few run-ins with some hikers,” he admitted. “There’s a group of young men who play fast and loose with safety and the rules of the park—I’ve caught them several times violating the burn ban, and have had to be the bad guy when it comes to enforcing park rules.”
“How did they respond?”
“Not well,” he admitted. “Last time I ran into them was a little over a month ago. It almost came to blows.”
“Did they threaten you?” Rebecca sounded interested, as if he was on the right track.
“Just the usual taunts young guys throw out when they’re drunk and acting tough for their friends.” He recounted what they’d said, trying to leave out the worst of the profanity.
“I’ll need names,” she declared. “And we need to find them. Maybe we can check out their campsite.”
Quinn’s knee-jerk response was to refuse. He didn’t have a problem telling Rebecca the names of the guys who’d given him trouble, but he didn’t want her going anywhere near them. They were unpredictable at best, dangerous at worst. And if they really were behind these killings? She’d be in incredible danger. Better to let the police arrest them and have her question them under controlled circumstances.
“Why don’t you let the local police pick them up?” he suggested carefully. He didn’t want to offend Rebecca or imply she wasn’t capable of doing her job, but he also wanted to keep her far away from potential trouble. The young men already had a grudge against him, and if he showed up unannounced to their campsite with Rebecca in tow, t
here was no telling how they’d respond. There were three of them to his one, and if it came down to a fight, he wouldn’t be able to protect her.
She lifted one eyebrow as she regarded him. “Worried I can’t handle myself?”
He shook his head. “Not at all. I just don’t think we need to go borrowing trouble. I’d rather not provoke them, and I think you’ll have better luck getting information from them if I’m not there.”
“You’re probably right,” she said, tilting her head in acknowledgment. “It’ll be easier to talk to him if they’re not posturing for your benefit.”
He thought back to his last encounter with the group, the way the young men had puffed out their chests and fed off each other’s aggression. The idea that their display had been for his benefit nearly made him laugh. He’d been twenty once, full of confidence. He’d thought he could take on the world as well, but he’d never flirted with violence the way these kids did. Testosterone poisoning, said his mother’s voice in his head.
All the more reason to keep them away from Rebecca.
“What else can we do?” He needed to act, to do something to help the investigation. If he had to sit at a desk and think about those poor women, he’d go mad. Better to keep moving, to feel like he was contributing, even if only in a small way.
Rebecca sighed, her gaze landing on the gurney ahead of them. They’d almost reached the trailhead, and the coroner’s team was having an easier time maneuvering the wheels along the ground. “I’m going to call for some reinforcements,” she said. “It’s clear the local police are out of their depth here—the department is just too small to handle all the different directions of this investigation. We need assistance if we’re going to catch this guy.”
“I guess that means you won’t need my help anymore.” He tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice. It had been clear from the start she was only going to be in his life temporarily. Better for them to part ways now, before his feelings grew even further.
“On the contrary,” she said. “Something tells me you’re the key to this entire investigation. I’m not letting you out of my sight.” Her tone held a teasing note, but Quinn could tell she was serious.
