by Stone, Mary
The shower was hot, and the water pulsed from the showerhead, giving him an impromptu massage. He took a little extra time buried under the spray and let the heat untie his muscles and warm him from the chill of the December air.
Even drying off involved a vigorous toweling to get the circulation going. He walked back into the bedroom and gathered his dirty clothing, and was immediately repelled by the aroma. Ah, so that was what Bree meant. Of course, she had worked as long and as hard as he had, but she had this knack of always being freshly minted and pristine, no matter what she was doing. Somehow, he had only to look at a shirt for it to crumple and become ripe.
He dressed in a different suit, this one a light gray to distinguish from the dark blue. That too was refreshing and made him feel a little better.
When he walked back out into the living room, Winter was drinking a cup of coffee and searching her laptop. What had involved her on the screen, Noah couldn’t tell as the laptop was turned away from him and she closed the lid as soon as he entered the room.
“Hungry?” Winter asked and with a brisk swipe of her arm gathered the computer and put it on a shelf. She then walked into the kitchen. “I thought about making us some sandwiches, but I wasn’t sure what you wanted so I waited.”
He forced himself not to frown. Hadn’t she said she would take care of lunch while he showered? She really was distracted.
“I could take you out to lunch,” Noah called after her. She turned around and came back.
“What?”
“I said I could take you out.”
“Oh.” Winter blinked. Yep, she was definitely distracted, her focus on something he couldn’t see, but he was pretty sure he knew what it was. The unspoken agreement that he wouldn’t acknowledge her independent investigation if she didn’t confess to doing an independent investigation had never been more strained than it was now. He knew that look on her face, that determined, slightly distracted look. It was the same look she’d had when she was working on The Preacher case.
“Thank you.” She seemed uncertain about the offer and finally shook her head. “Autumn is coming over. She called while you were in the shower. She’ll be here any minute.”
“She can come too,” Noah offered. He had hoped for a little time with Winter, a way to reconnect and rekindle things between them, but if that meant that Autumn was part of the equation, if that was the price for being with the woman he loved, it was worth it.
“Thank you.” Winter reached up on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “But we’re…we’ve got things we need to do.”
Noah took a breath and held her gaze with his. Unspoken agreement or not, this was getting out of hand. Winter wasn’t on this case for a reason, and she was endangering herself, him, and Bree by carrying on independently. He formulated the words in his brain to tell her that, to tell her that this couldn’t go on this way, that she needed to leave this one in his care, but before he could get out a single word, her phone rang.
Winter looked at the caller ID and held up a finger. “Sorry, I need to take this.” She was already out of the room before she answered. “Hello...this is she. Excellent, what time…” The door to the bedroom closed on the rest of the conversation.
He actually considered pressing his ear to the door, but that was petty and rude, not to mention a little childish. It was also beneath him. In any event, before he might have done such a thing, the doorbell rang.
Noah opened the door to find Autumn poised to ring the bell again.
“Oh!” Judging from the surprised look on Autumn’s face, it seemed he wasn’t the only one a little off-kilter. Apparently, Winter hadn’t told her that he was home. “Noah! What are you doing here?”
“I live here,” Noah reminded her. The words came out a little more sharply than he’d intended, but she seemed to take his tone in stride.
“Since when?” Autumn smiled to take the sting out of her words. “I thought you’d moved into the office full-time.”
“It feels that way,” Noah admitted ruefully. He stood aside to let Autumn into the apartment. “So, what are you two up to today?”
Autumn’s face froze for a moment before she shrugged. “Honestly, I’m not entirely sure. This is Winter’s day and her call, so I’m just here for the ride.”
Noah nodded. So much for lunch. The selfish part of him wished that Winter would have asked Autumn to come over later in the day. It stung that she hadn’t, but he was careful not to let it show.
He reached for his jacket. “Please tell Winter that I’m going to grab something on the way back to work.”
Autumn looked surprised. “You’re leaving?”
“Yeah, back to it.” He opened the door and hung back a moment. “Listen, Autumn.” He turned to look at her from the hall. “I’m glad she has someone who…” He cleared his throat. “I’m glad she has you for a friend.” Noah left, closing the door softly behind him.
It hurt, but dammit, what could he do? Winter…well, Winter obviously needed her space right now. Even from him.
He might as well move into the office. Let Autumn keep an eye on Winter for him.
The best thing he could do for her was catch her brother.
Alive.
He didn’t think she’d ever forgive him if he brought Justin in any other way.
20
Winter looked out through the car window as the city crawled past. Autumn was silent. She’d been silent a lot lately.
Winter pressed her lips together, seeing her reflection in the glass, grim-faced and determined. She was starting to wonder how she hadn’t scared Autumn away completely—she’d become such an ogre. It seemed that she had frightened away Noah, though she’d tried to be friendlier and more loving with him.
He’d only been back a short time but had left as soon as Autumn showed up. She’d tried to call him, but there’d been no answer. Thankfully, her friendship with Autumn seemed up to the strain. The point was, she was there. It helped knowing someone had her back. Especially today.
Going to see Cameron Arkwell was testing the limits of that friendship. Autumn had played an important part in stopping him and saved a lot of lives in the balance. Autumn still felt the effects of being in too close of a proximity to a cold-blooded killer, though. Winter had no doubt Autumn still felt that madness that came off Cameron in waves, her special gift not even necessary for that one. The man positively emanated evil.
“It’s like I can’t ever get that part of me clean again,” Autumn said when Winter had told her that Cameron had agreed to meet.
Autumn pulled into a parking space in front of the prison and turned off the car. They crossed the parking lot, going straight into the reception area where Autumn turned off and headed to one of the benches in front of security. This was as far as she could go.
“I won’t be long,” Winter promised.
“It’s okay.” Autumn shot her a smile, though it seemed a rather sad one. “I’ve got a book to read,” she held up her phone to show Winter the app, “and it’s warm in here. Festive even.” She laughed and pointed her thumb to the corner of the room where a desolate-looking Christmas tree stood, dropping needles on the floor. “And look…there’s a coffee machine. I’m good. Do what you need to do.”
“Thank you.” Winter felt like she should have said more, should have been able to tell her friend how much all this effort meant to her and what a good friend Autumn was being, but there were no words she could think of that would adequately express that.
Instead, she turned and took off her coat, placing it on the conveyor belt. Her badge and keys followed, and she stepped through the metal detector and waited on the other side of the x-ray machine for her items to clear.
The man behind the machine stopped the belt for a moment and stared at his screen for so long Winter began to feel a curiosity over what she might have forgotten in her coat pocket, but as she was about to ask, the belt started moving again and the coat slid free, followed by the plastic bin with her b
adge and keys.
She carried the coat and the badge. A guard met her at the next checkpoint.
“Agent Black.” Winter handed over the badge and waited as the guard checked the clipboard in his hands. His gaze shot up to hers and then back down again, and Winter surmised that he’d seen the name of the man she was visiting. Cameron probably didn’t get that many visitors. The guard handed the badge back and pressed a button. A buzzer indicated that she could proceed through the next door.
This was replayed twice more, each time the guard in question seemed surprised at her destination, but none of them said a single word to her. They simply buzzed her on to the next checkpoint, and presumably, someone else’s problem.
After the third door, she was met by another guard, this one a large man who had once likely had an athlete’s body but had begun letting himself go. He was still physically intimidating, even if his waist was a little thicker than it maybe should have been. She handed the badge to him, but he waved it off.
“No need, you’re past security.” His smile was warm and generous, and Winter took a liking to him immediately. “I’m Sully.” He offered his hand, and she switched the badge to her left so she could shake it.
Some men, especially seeing an agent and a female at that, tried to overpower her at moments like this. When his hand engulfed hers completely, she braced herself for a painful squeeze, but he was surprisingly gentle, though his handshake was firm.
“You’re here to see Cameron Arkwell?”
Winter nodded. “That’s correct.”
He hesitated a moment, like he needed to think about her answer. “May I ask why?”
Winter’s eyebrows crept upward. That wasn’t a question that was generally asked at this point. The fact that the Bureau wanted to talk to a con and that con had approved the meeting should have left little room for questioning from a guard.
He held a hand up to forestall any complaint she might have. “The reason I’m asking is to know if we need to have more than one guard. Arkwell is generally easy to manage, but when he gets upset, it’s best to have more than one guard present. Just as a precaution.”
Winter considered that for a moment. It was the first time this option had been presented to her when dealing with a prisoner. Typically, she went where they set up the meeting, without thinking a whole lot about why she’d been sent one place or another. Her input had never actually been asked for before. “I don’t believe there’s a reason for extra security.”
Sully nodded and waved his hand past the next door, suggesting she should continue walking. Winter looked inside briefly as she passed. There was a series of tables and chairs about the room. One table was occupied by a nervous looking young man in a prison jump suit and a distinguished if tired looking older man who was shuffling a large number of papers. Winter identified him as a lawyer, likely a public defender based on the rumpled suit and resigned expression.
The next room was a typical sterile room with a single table bolted to the floor with an eye hook built into the top.
“Tell me something, Sully,” Winter said as she took a seat. She scanned the room while waiting for Arkwell. “Why are you asking about extra guards?”
Sully shrugged. “A day or two ago, one of the inmates took a tumble while being questioned. His public defender is trying to make a big deal out of it. He won’t get anywhere with it, but the warden doesn’t want it to become commonplace.”
Winter shot the large man a questioning look, but he appeared to have said as much as he was going to. He glided back unobtrusively to the corner and vanished into the background. Winter had noted that there was no other guard watching when they arrived, but Sully looked like he could handle himself well enough. Judging by the way his nose looked like it had been broken more than once, Sully had proven his aptitude.
She had no time to consider that. A buzzer sounded and then the steel door ratcheting on its tracks announced the arrival of one Cameron Arkwell. If she hadn’t known better, he would likely have been startling to her. As it was, even remembering the innocent baby-faced expression, she was surprised by just how much he looked like an overeager college student.
He was the pleasant young man next door that people just naturally trusted. He was one who everyone said “kept quiet” and “kept to himself” and “was no trouble at all.” It seemed almost cliché, but people truly were shocked to find out he was a mass murderer. Which was exactly how Cameron’s previous neighbors did speak of him.
His wrists were chained, his ankles too. There was another chain that ran from the cuffs to the ankles, hobbling him into taking small baby steps. Winter found breathing harder, her pulse picking up. The man had killed several women and looked as innocent as a glass of milk. If it weren’t for Justin’s sake, she wouldn’t have come within a mile of the man. She kept her face expressionless, but she felt like her pulse was throbbing so hard that a vein in her neck had to be pulsing visibly.
“Thank you for seeing me.” Winter stood. Cameron extended his hand for a shake. Sully and the guard who’d escorted him into the room grabbed Cameron’s cuffs and locked them to the eyebolt in the table.
“I’d shake your hand, but…” Cameron looked at his restraints and lifted a shoulder in resignation.
Winter sat and tried to unobtrusively rub her right palm on her pants. She was nervous, on edge from being so close to him. She hated that her body betrayed her nerves and forced herself to relax.
“I don’t get many visitors, so this is a treat.” He sounded as if that was a mystery to him, a slight frown creasing his smooth brow. “Even if my visitor is the same one who put me here.”
Damn right I did, you murdering bastard.
“I need to ask you a few questions.” Her voice was calm, pleasant even. She couldn’t sound too eager or he’d just play with her.
“Sure, but I have a pretty good alibi.” He gestured to the walls, a self-satisfied expression on his face. “Whatever it was, I can guarantee I didn’t do it.”
“That’s not why I’m here.”
“Then can these be taken off?” Cameron rattled his chains. “I’m not violent.” He said it with the straight face and conviction of a talented actor. Winter flashed onto the snuff movie Cameron had made for his father. The girl he’d murdered on camera.
“I can think of at least several young women who would disagree with that,” Winter reminded him, “but they’re dead.”
Cameron had the grace to look ashamed. “I mean, I’m not violent anymore. Not in here. I do what I’m told, when I’m told, and we get along. Besides,” he looked past her at Sully, “I know better in here. I heard about someone that was questioned, and he came back bleeding.”
Rumors like that were the bread and butter of prisons; rumors that were often helped by the staff to grow in the telling. They helped hold the population to a peaceable status quo.
“We’re looking for someone.” Winter got to the point quickly. Her visitation time was limited. “I need some insight into the mind of a killer.”
“You’re a killer, Agent Black.” His voice was soft, almost a singsong. His pupils dilated in excitement as he watched her closely, almost as if waiting for her soul to squirm. “I nearly died because of you and those you work with. Tell me you haven’t killed in the line of duty.”
She stayed in tight control. “Yes, I have. Someone has to take the maniacs off the street.”
“You say that like it makes you different.”
“As different as night is to day, yes,” she agreed.
“But you’re still human, Agent Black. In the moment, your blood is pumping in your ears and you’re only acting to stay alive.” His gaze dropped to her lips, her throat, her breasts. “Well, that’s what it’s like on this end too. We’re not all that different.”
Winter leaned forward, taking up a bit of the space between them. She refused to cower or back down. She smiled, almost seductively. The smile grew as his breathing grew heavier. “Let’s not quarre
l, Cameron. We don’t have much time together. Will you answer my questions?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. Yes, Cameron Arkwell was a killer, but he also was still just a man. A young man who would never fulfill his fantasies again…except by his own hand or one of the inmates who offered a bit of release.
“What do I get in return?”
She smiled again. “The satisfaction of doing the right thing.”
He snorted, clearly amused. “Go on.”
“Why would someone who thought and acted like you want to capture and raise a child? Why would he bother?”
Cameron’s handsome face split into a grin. “Oh. Baby Preacher.”
Winter blinked at that name. “Excuse me?”
“That’s what they’re calling him, in here, anyway. Baby Preacher. That’s who you mean, right?”
Winter considered the question. “His name is Jaime Peterson. We have reason to believe that he was taken as a child and raised by The Preacher, yes.” She couldn’t stand to hear Justin called Baby Preacher again. “Why would Douglas Kilroy do that?”
“Well, even people who kill have a desire to procreate.” Cameron spoke with all the authority of a legal counsel. He might as well have been addressing the judge and jury, making an imaginary case. He’d clearly picked up a few things from his father, a former judge. “Most people want their legacy to continue on past themselves. Sometimes, it’s a matter of wanting the name passed on, or there’s work yet to be done.”
Winter schooled her reactions. Work yet to be done.
The phrase sang through her. Justin was trying to complete that madman’s legacy? Kilroy had babbled on about a lot of things; he wasn’t called The Preacher for nothing. But could he have so infected Justin that her little brother was trying to finish what that bastard had begun?
“It’s a bit of a stretch, isn’t it? Thinking that someone with no training can brainwash a child into being something he’s not?”
