Federal Agent Under Fire Read online

  * * *

  BLAKE FOLLOWED WEST into the thick of the crowd where a half-dozen men and women handed him files and reports. He flipped through the slew of information looking for something to prove the man he was after was the same one who’d gotten away from him five years ago.

  Marissa took a seat at the desk’s edge and watched the group. Her head moved back and forth with each new voice, following every word. Blake could practically hear the line of questions compiling for their drive home. He grimaced. Not home. Back to the hotel where they were staying because she was a victim in need of protection.

  “This is everything from the traffic cams?” he asked, turning a few grainy photos toward West.

  “No. Those are everything we have from the surveillance camera outside the bank. We don’t have traffic cams or face recognition software, hell, half the town still comes to the library to use the internet. We’re lucky to have those shots.”

  “Right.” Blake rubbed his burning eyes. “So, we think he drives a pickup.”

  A deputy nodded. “An unfamiliar pickup was spotted outside the northern forest gates around the same time Miss Lane flagged down the man who drove her here. We asked around about the truck, and when we learned it was seen on Main Street, we contacted the bank to review the footage.”

  “Thanks.” Blake gave the picture a careful examination. The entire windshield was in shadow, probably the worst photo he’d ever seen. He couldn’t even see the grill from that angle, let alone a license plate.

  He clenched and released a frustrated fist at his side. Marissa lifted her gaze from his hand to his eyes. She didn’t miss anything.

  “Agent Garrett?” A woman in jeans and a Doctor Who T-shirt jogged up the aisle in his direction, bobbing between desks and around staring agents. “I’m Cora from tech. I came in as soon as they called. I’ve been here all night. Sorry about the...” she motioned to her outfit, then shook her head and continued. “I traced the text back to a burner phone. The phone was left on and dropped in a trash receptacle outside the national park. We recovered the phone. No prints, but it’s a really basic phone.”

  “That’s not a surprise,” he said. “People don’t buy basic phones for personal use. They want bells and whistles. Criminals buy basic so they can use them for something like this.” He turned his attention back to the stack of useless intel gathered on the desk.

  “Agent Garrett,” Cora continued.

  He dragged his most polite expression out and waited.

  “I called every store in Cade County selling phones like the one we found. Most said they’d check their inventory against the stock and let me know. The guy at the truck stop diner on Deer Run Road said he sold a phone like this yesterday at three o’clock. He remembered the time because it was the end of his shift. The man paid with cash, but the truck stop has a camera watching the register.”

  Blake’s spine went rigid. A spike of hope rammed through him. “Tell me he’s sending a picture of the man who bought that phone.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “How soon?”

  “Anytime. He’s looking through the footage now.”

  West leaned against the corner of the desk beside Blake. “Maybe take a load off until we hear something new,” he suggested, spinning an unopened bottle of water in his palm like an Old West gunslinger. “You’re so tired you can barely stand there without swaying.”

  “He didn’t sleep,” Marissa tattled.

  “Wait,” West said. “Why don’t you put a pin in the nap and take a shower first. Isn’t that what you had on yesterday?”

  Blake snatched the bottle from West’s hand and cracked the lid open. “Thanks, I’m fine.” He took long deep pulls on the liquid, realizing then that he’d become dry as the desert.

  West fanned a hand in front of his nose. “Feel free to splash some of that on you if you want to.”

  Blake finished the bottle and walked away from the crowd. West followed. Blake shot a look over his shoulder, where Marissa continued to watch from her seat. “He could’ve killed her.”

  “But he didn’t,” West said, not missing a beat. “She’s tough, and she’s smart, and he didn’t get her.”

  Blake nodded. He’d give Marissa that. She was one of a kind. “If he had, it would’ve been on me.”

  West crossed his arms and locked Blake in his steady gaze. “He didn’t, and it’s not.”

  “Agent Garrett?” Cora’s voice carried through the stream of white noise.

  The Garretts moved instantly toward her. “What do you have?” Blake asked.

  “I just heard from the truck stop, and it looks like we’ve got a match.” She turned the large digital tablet in her hands to face them, and Marissa gasped.

  “That’s him,” Marissa pointed, moving to join them in the room’s center. “That’s the man from the lake this summer.”

  Chapter Five

  West marched forward, holding the digital image above his head to face the other officials. His voice boomed through the instantly silent room. “This is Nash Barclay. Get his name and face on every news channel this side of the Mississippi, and we need it done now. Right now. Talk to bus terminals and the highway patrol. He might be driving an old Ford pickup, plates unknown. We want sightings only, no civilian apprehension attempts. He’s dangerous. Drive that point home.”

  The room scrambled into action.

  Marissa caught Blake’s sleeve in her fingertips. “It’s him?”

  “It’s him,” Blake answered.

  An uncomfortable mix of fear and victory beat through her. She’d hoped Blake was wrong, that some other, less murderous man had grabbed her, but at least now Nash couldn’t hide. Not with his face splashed across the nightly news and morning papers.

  Blake’s attention traveled to her hand on his sleeve before reconnecting with her eyes. “I guess you don’t need to meet with the sketch artist.”

  “Right.” She released him in favor of cradling her torso. “I didn’t think I remembered his face, but that’s definitely it.” She tightened her arms around her middle, thankful to be at the sheriff’s department when a known serial killer was running around. A sliver of guilt wiggled through her. Not everyone was as safe as she was, surrounded by federal agents and local law enforcement officials. Another woman could be next. There were plenty of twentysomething blondes to keep Nash entertained. In fact, she had a sister who looked a lot like her.

  Marissa pulled her phone from her pocket and gave Blake an uneasy look. “I’m going to call Kara and tell her to stay in today.” Hopefully Kara didn’t need the advice. Maybe she’d taken the news of Marissa’s attack to heart and planned a quiet day at home.

  “Hello?” Kara’s voice trilled through the speaker.

  A whoosh of relief swept from Marissa’s lungs. Kara was fine. “Hey, it’s me. Thought I’d check in.”

  “Oh, hey!” The smile in her sister’s voice was contagious. “Why didn’t you call before bed last night? I was worried. Your phone was off. Where are you calling from? Did you get a new number?” Wind battered the speaker. Marissa’s attention jumped to Blake’s waiting face.

  “No. Kara? Where are you?”

  “Hiking. Why? Do you want to meet for breakfast? I packed a good one.”

  “I can’t. I’m sorry. Listen, I need you to go home, or to Mom and Dad’s. Stay there today, okay? They’ve identified my attacker.”

  “Is it him? The fugitive you said they were looking for?”

  Marissa nodded, knowing Kara couldn’t see, but finding the words impossible.

  “Holy crap,” Kara whispered. Marissa’s silence must have been enough of an answer.

  “He’s still out there,” Marissa warned.

  She thought she saw Blake wince, but his blank agent face was in position when she gave him a closer look. “Please be safe,” she co
ntinued to Kara. “I’ll call again as soon as I know something. Tell Mom and Dad I’m safe. I’m staying with the authorities for now.”

  Kara swore. “I’ll head straight there from here.”

  “Thank you.” Marissa’s eyes stung as she disconnected with her sister. “She’s safe,” she told Blake. “I sent her to our parents’ house.”

  “Good. Why don’t you let me take you back to the hotel now?”

  “No,” she blurted. “I’m okay here. I’m obviously safe, and you have things to do. I won’t get in the way. I can wait in the break room again.”

  “Agent Garrett?” A man in a gray suit waved one hand overhead. His jacket parted in the front to reveal the FBI badge anchored to his sleek black belt. “We’re needed at the lake.”

  “Take me.” Marissa’s hand snapped out to catch Blake’s. “Please.”

  Blake ignored her. “What’s going on?”

  The man gave Marissa a long look. “They say they found something. We need to get up there.”

  Blake pulled his hand free from Marissa’s grip. Before she could protest the rejection, he pressed those same warm fingers to the small of her back. “Let’s go.”

  * * *

  THE DRIVE TO the lake was a blur. Partially due to Marissa’s hazy thoughts and morbid fears, partially as a result of Blake’s speed. The silence was palpable in the warm cab. Blake stole looks at her from the corner of his eye, but kept whatever he was thinking to himself. She wished he’d just spit it out. The silence crawled all over her skin like a nest of baby spiders. He might be calm and focused under this kind of pressure, but the worry was eating her alive.

  The vehicle slowed as a pair of rangers came into view near the park entrance. A line of reporters yammered into microphones along the roadside, just outside the gate, using a Cade County National Forest and Road Closed sign as the backdrop to their story.

  Blake flashed his badge, and the rangers motioned him to pass. The looks on the uniformed men’s faces suggested they knew more than Blake or Marissa, and it wasn’t good.

  The truck rocked to a stop in the grass between two black vans marked Cade County Coroner. Blake released his belt and turned on the seat to face Marissa. “I don’t know what we’re walking into, but I’m guessing it’s going to be rough. I want to remind you that you don’t have to be here. It’s not too late to return to the hotel or go back to the station.”

  Marissa’s tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth and sweat pooled in her palms. The coroner’s vans weren’t there by accident. She didn’t want to see what the divers had found, but where else would she go? To a hotel room with a carousel of uniformed strangers all looking at her like she might break? Like she was a victim. No. She’d stay with Blake. At least with him, there was no judgement. He had other things on his mind, and she appreciated the room to feel however she wanted without those probing, curious looks.

  “I’ll stay,” she said. She reached for her door, and Blake followed suit, rushing around the truck’s hood to meet her.

  “You don’t need to be brave.” He moved into a broad shaft of sunlight with his jaw clenched, the expression flush with concern.

  Marissa inhaled a steadying breath. She squared her shoulders, determined to be as honest as possible with a man whose mere presence seemed to put her at ease. “I’m not brave. I’m scared to death. I don’t want to be here any more than you want me here, but this is just the way it is. I want to be with you.”

  Blake yanked his chin back. “What?”

  She sank her teeth into the thick of her bottom lip. She hadn’t meant the words the way they’d sounded, but could she deny them? He was rugged and handsome with a voice like molasses, and the man was nothing if not attentive. She blew out a slow breath as her mind began to wander.

  Blake waited, hip cocked, gaze delving into hers, as if he could pull the thoughts from her head.

  “Until this is over,” she clarified, taking interest in a nearby tree and ignoring the warmth in her belly. She shored herself up and met his gaze once more. “The way I see it, this entire situation is horrible. There’s no silver lining. No good angle. It’s awful, and it’s ugly, but I don’t see how he can get to me again as long as I’m with you. So, I’m staying.”

  * * *

  MARISSA’S POSTURE WAS RIGID, something she did to appear bigger, Blake assumed. Though, he hadn’t thought of her as small since she’d first opened her mouth to tell him how he was going to handle her case. Being pocket-size required a person to apply themselves more assertively. He’d never thought much of that fact before meeting her. He’d passed six foot by junior year in high school. Being overlooked or underestimated had never been his problem.

  Until Blake had met Nash, he hadn’t had a lot of problems. Now, he had two major ones. Catching the sonofagun who’d eluded him for five years, and protecting the woman in front of him who was doing her best not to look nearly as frightened as she truly was. The second task would be a lot easier if she hadn’t just announced her intent to stay under his thumb. Not only would her constant presence make it impossible for him to go hunting for his nemesis, it also made Blake vulnerable. Marissa was a distraction. She’d been slowly making mud of his clarity with those big blue eyes and endless bravado, and every minute he wasted worrying about her was time Nash gained on him.

  Worse still, and ridiculous as it was, Blake wanted her with him. He’d promised to keep her safe, and he wasn’t the kind of man who broke his word. “Fine.” He set his hand against the small of her back once more, a frustrating habit he’d developed and couldn’t seem to shake. Normally, he maintained a strict no-touching policy for those in his charge, but this was different. The added connection was a comfort to her. At least that was what he’d told himself when she didn’t swat him away the first time he made the move. Not that he’d planned it. Reaching for her had come naturally, another thing that had surprised him. “You can stick with either of my brothers while I work. They’ll keep you safe, and you can trust them.”

  “I know, and I do.”

  They moved toward the lake in unison, becoming the center of attention as those already on scene noticed their arrival. A man in a wet suit leaned his backside against a tree, hands on knees, eyes closed. Blake’s gut fisted. He knew that deep breathing technique. If the diver hadn’t been sick yet, he was about to be.

  “Blake.” A familiar and commanding voice caught Blake’s attention and turned him around. His father tromped through the tall grasses at the lake’s edge wearing fatigues and waders.

  Blake smiled, and led Marissa toward the grasses. He hadn’t seen his dad in nearly a year, but it was eerily like looking in a mirror. One that told the future anyway.

  “Here’s another one you can trust,” Blake told Marissa. “This is my dad, Martin Garrett. Dad, this is Marissa Lane.”

  Marissa raised her small hand to him. “Sheriff Garrett. It’s nice to meet you.”

  His dad stepped free of the water and accepted her offer with a sad smile. “I’m sorry to hear about what happened to you yesterday.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “You’re a brave woman.”

  She pursed her lips and looked away.

  Blake’s dad pinned him with a pointed look. “Did they tell you what they found down there?”

  “Not yet, but I don’t suppose they had to.” The somber feel in the air, coupled with the coroner’s vans, could mean little else.

  “Probably not.” His dad sighed the words. Twenty years as the local sheriff had worn him down. He’d spearheaded West’s landslide campaign. It was time, he’d said, to get to know his family again. Let another Garrett take the reins for a while.

  “Look,” Marissa whispered.

  Bubbles floated and burst on the lake’s smooth surface, sending ripples through the reflections of Marissa, Blake and his father. A heartbeat later, two divers�
� heads broke free. Together, they towed a body to shore.

  His father groaned.

  Marissa stepped behind Blake. Her fingers pressed against his side, either for protection or balance, he couldn’t be sure. When he’d moved between her and the reporter, she’d rejected the shielding. He didn’t blame her now. No one should see what he was watching. It shouldn’t be happening.

  Her ragged breaths blew against his shirt. She was probably thinking the same thing he was. That body could have been her.

  “Dad?” Blake said, turning for a look at his lifelong hero.

  “Yep.” The town’s former sheriff and eternal protector slid an arm around Marissa’s shoulders. “Why don’t we give these folks some room to work.”

  Blake waited as his father led Marissa several yards away, then headed for the divers as they arranged the exhumed body carefully on a sheet set out by the county coroner. Drops of water fell from their suits onto her pale, swollen face and tattered wedding gown.

  Blake pulled his eyes away with a curse. “Was she alone?”

  “No, sir.” One diver answered as the other strode away on unsteady legs. “Five more,” he added in the detached monotone of a man in shock.

  “Five?” Blake cast his gaze over the bubbling water. That couldn’t be right. “Nash had four victims in total. You’re saying there were six bodies down there?”

  A pair of men in blue windbreakers edged Blake and the diver away from the woman. “Excuse us.” They stretched another sheet beside the first.

  And another beside that.

  With six sheets spread along the peaceful lake’s edge, the men in windbreakers returned to the woman and went to work immediately, examining her eyes, nose and mouth, cleaning under her nails and probing her skin with blue medical gloves.

  Blake rubbed a heavy hand through his hair and gripped the back of his neck.

  Two new divers appeared on the water’s surface, towing another woman dressed in white. The veil from her hair sank slowly in the water behind them.

  The bodies kept coming, just as the first diver had said, delivered by the hands of men and women who’d undoubtedly retrieved many others from similar fates, but never, he guessed, had anyone there seen anything like this. The rescuers’ faces were as white as the victims. They bumbled onto shore stricken, ill and rattled.