Federal Agent Under Fire Page 7

  Blake watched with disbelieving eyes as the women were lined up and examined in the warm autumn sun. It was a juxtaposition that turned his stomach. Six women. Six. How had he missed two victims? He’d dedicated himself to knowing this case. He knew the victims. Had met with their families. Internalized their devastating losses. How could he have missed not one but two victims?

  West’s men met each diver as they finished their duty and led them aside. They’d need to give an account of what they’d seen down there.

  Blake walked the space between five occupied sheets, studying the disfigured faces and patchy hair. Years underwater had all but removed their identities. Aside from their families, and the animal who did this, Blake was probably the only one who’d recognize them. “Marcia Gold,” he told the men working on the first body. “Angela Olmstead,” he said to the next. “Jessica Snow. Monica Knisely.”

  He stopped beside the fifth body where a woman wearing an ID badge from the medical examiner’s office tucked wads of loose hair into an evidence bag. “What happened to her?” he asked. The body was grotesquely misshapen, portions missing. Her gown was nearly torn to shreds by age and the lake’s ecosystem.

  The M.E. labeled the bag and set it into her case. “This one’s been down there a while. Longer than the others. Maybe by as much as a year.”

  “A year.” The words warbled off Blake’s tongue. “Are you sure?”

  She offered a patient smile. “It’ll take longer to identify her, if we can. There’s a lot of damage here, but we’ll know more soon, and we’ll get the facts to you the moment we have them.” The woman stretched onto her feet and patted his shoulder.

  A hush rolled over the crowd behind them, on the heels of splashing water. The sixth body had made it to the surface.

  Blake hung his head as he turned to see what new atrocity awaited. Would it be another woman murdered years ago? Someone else who he had no clue existed? Would this have been Marissa’s fate if she weren’t so fierce and determined?

  “Blake.” Marissa’s voice sounded nearby, closer than he’d expected, but he couldn’t force his eyes from the lake.

  The final two divers rushed forward with a woman who couldn’t have been underwater more than a few weeks. She was blonde and blue-eyed like the others, petite and dressed in a long-sleeved wedding gown.

  Blake’s chest tightened. The weight of too many sleepless nights and five years of self-loathing pressed the air from his lungs. Anger boiled in his gut. He could’ve stopped this five years ago and he didn’t. Now someone else was dead. Another life taken. Because of him.

  West strode into view, cell phone pressed to his ear. “I need the missing persons report on Annie Linz. Twenty-something jogger. Went missing near the county line early this month.” He knelt beside the young woman and turned her face carefully toward him, then fell back on his haunches. He cast a look over one shoulder and dipped his chin at Blake.

  The ground tilted beneath Blake. Nash had killed again and he’d had no idea. Everything he’d thought he knew about this case had gone out the window the moment he’d arrived home at the summons of a madman, which he realized was exactly what had happened. Nash could’ve killed anywhere, but he’d come back to Blake’s hometown. It probably also wasn’t a fluke that Marissa got away. Nash wanted to be hunted. He’d probably let her win that fight, and he’d used her to send the message right to Blake’s ear.

  “Blake.” Marissa’s voice was closer now, and more desperate. She fell against him with hands over her eyes. The impact sent him back a step. She buried herself against his side. “I was wrong. I can’t be here. Please, take me away.”

  His chest ached as he pulled himself away from all those women he couldn’t save and focused on the one he still could. In fact, he was slowly coming to realize that he’d do anything to protect Marissa from anyone who tried to hurt her again, and that truth had nothing to do with his job. “Okay. Let’s go.”

  * * *

  MARISSA FOLLOWED BLAKE through the crowd and away from the ghastly scene. She sucked lungfuls of air, desperate not to be sick. Whatever she’d expected to come out of the lake, that wasn’t it. “I’d hoped they’d found some small piece of evidence,” she said, choking back her fear. “I wanted the coroner vans to be a precaution, not a necessity. Did you see the last woman? She looked like me.” She covered her mouth again to stop the rambling.

  “They all did at one point,” Blake said. He watched for her response. “Nash has a type, and you’re it.”

  She did her best not to overreact. Was there an overreaction to what he’d just said? Blake probably thought so, and she didn’t want to be labeled as baggage. He could exile her to the hotel room where she’d have no idea what was going on or if she was in danger again. She wasn’t sure if that scenario was worse than playing witness to the things she’d seen today, but both were scary. Given the choice, she’d rather be afraid with Blake than without him.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, recalling his expression at the sight of the women being extracted from the lake.

  “I’m fine.”

  He wasn’t. She could see it in his eyes. He’d aged in those last few minutes by the lake.

  She’d watched him as a gauge. Was this normal to him? To the other officials? It wasn’t. Everyone had looked the way she felt. Some of the divers were physically sick while being interviewed. This thing that was happening in her town was absolutely sinister, and she was caught in the center of it.

  Marissa leaned against a tree to tie her shoe and pull herself together. “Maybe you should get some sleep when we get back to the hotel.”

  “I’m fine.” The words were resolute, from the mouth of a man who’d clearly repeated them a thousand times.

  “Your eyes are rimmed in red. I doubt you slept at all last night, and I know you haven’t eaten today.” West had made a similar assessment when Blake arrived at the sheriff’s department yesterday. So his poor self-care wasn’t just about the last twenty-four hours. It was something more. How long had he been this way?

  He turned his suddenly heated gaze on her.

  “Don’t say you’re fine,” she warned.

  “I am.”

  She snorted. “You’re predictable. I’ll give you that.” She pushed off the tree and continued down the path toward the parking lot, in no hurry to get back to her new reality.

  Blake fell into step, easily matching his long stride to her much shorter one. “I’m sorry you had to see that. No one should have.”

  “Do you think that he was dragging me toward the lake yesterday?” she asked. “That he had his gear ready to go? Was that why we found the scuba weights in the grass?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Where do you think he gets the dresses?”

  Blake didn’t answer. “There’s a lot I don’t know these days.”

  The trail ended too soon, dumping them back at the crowded lot. Official vehicles peppered the space between those she presumed belonged to the divers.

  Blake’s truck was still sandwiched between coroner’s vans. Marissa marched to the passenger door, careful not to think too long about what she’d seen at the lake.

  Blake leaned over his hood and plucked a sheet of paper from beneath his windshield wiper. A slew of curses poured from his lips, and he pulled his phone from his pocket. “Get in.” He unlocked the truck doors and pointed at Marissa. “West?” he barked into the phone. “I’ve got contact.” He pressed the paper facedown on the window and turned in a small circle, examining the quiet forest around him. “There was a picture on my truck. Probably the next victim. We need a name and address. We’ve got to get to her before he does.”

  Marissa climbed inside and locked her door. Her gaze swept to the photo staring at her through the arching glass. A boulder of fear landed on her chest, obstructing
her airways and aching in her throat. “Blake!”

  The driver’s door jerked open. “What?” He leaned over the seat, eyes wide. “What happened?”

  She fumbled for her phone with weak, uncoordinated hands. Her tear-blurred gaze jumped to the photo on his windshield. “That’s my sister.”

  Chapter Six

  Marissa worked her fingers over the phone screen, dialing Kara as quickly as possible with shaking hands. Blake’s voice boomed beside her in the truck cab as he contacted West and his team. His words were lost as Marissa counted the rings. Had they always been so long and far between? “Voice mail,” she whispered.

  The truck rumbled to life and reversed through the grass and gravel with a loud roar. Stones blew out behind them, clanging and rattling against the fenders and undercarriage as they spun for the gate.

  Marissa’s ears rang. “She didn’t pick up.” Why didn’t she pick up? Marissa dialed again.

  The truck jumped between a tree and the guard gate, not bothering to stick to the road or wait for the removal of the barricade. “There’s a deputy en route to Kara’s house,” Blake said, tearing up the road at nearly double the posted thirty-five miles per hour speed limit. He pressed a button on his dash and a red glow flashed over his windshield, presumably from the unit on the truck’s roof.

  “Voice mail.” Marissa hung up and dialed again.

  A news van gave chase in Marissa’s side view mirror. It was no wonder with the exit they’d made.

  Blake cursed and jammed his finger against the touchscreen on his dash. “Dial West,” he ordered.

  Marissa’s head swam and her tummy churned. Blake’s voice became the backdrop to her fear as he explained the new situation to West and set plans to beat Nash to Kara. Assuming he didn’t already have her.

  Nash Barclay could have anything he wanted, except Kara. Marissa would trade anything she had for her sister. Including herself. The voice mail picked up again, and Marissa slammed the phone onto the bench beside her.

  “Hey.” Blake lowered a hand over hers, trapping her shaky fingers in his steel grip. “Breathe.”

  Marissa pulled in a long, shuddered breath and released it. Blake’s presence was a tonic to her nerves, but his touch was so much more. She gripped his strong fingers, allowing them to syphon her fear and stall the erratic pounding in her chest. His broad palm engulfed her small hand, covering it with his protection and sending sparks of electricity over her skin. She refocused on the road. “Turn right on Main and head for Blue Grass Run. She’s the yellow one-story at the top of the hill. There’s a tree in the yard with a swing and window boxes on the sills.” Marissa’s voice cracked. Her sister was too sweet and kind to fall victim to a monster.

  “Got it.” He released her hand to jam the horn on his steering wheel before running a red light.

  Cool air rushed over her fingers in the absence of his grip, and immediate disappointment set in. “I know Blue Grass Run,” he said. “It’s a nice neighborhood, and that’s good news. There are probably people outside today. Kids playing. Dogs walking. Witnesses. Plus, if she’s anything like you, then she’s smart, and you’ve told her what’s going on. She won’t answer the door to a stranger or invite anyone inside.”

  That was all true, but Marissa hadn’t invited Nash into her house either, and he’d been there just the same. Pawing through her things, lingering at the window. Photographing her with Blake.

  She let out a ragged breath and dialed Kara again. Voice mail.

  Blake drove onto the curb outside Kara’s house a few minutes later. Marissa hit redial.

  “Wait here.” Blake locked her in the truck and walked through the yard to meet Cole and another agent at Kara’s porch.

  “Come on,” Marissa whispered to her phone. When she hung up this time, she dialed her parents. Kara was probably already there. She’d probably just forgotten her phone in the car or left it on the couch while she helped their mom in the kitchen. Kara was sweet, but she was naive and a bit clueless, never really seeing the big picture. She was fun, but unintentionally reckless and as hopelessly self-absorbed as any twenty-one-year-old who’d never had a true reason to worry.

  “Hello?” Her mother answered on the first ring.

  “Mama?”

  “Marissa? Where are you? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Is Kara with you?” she asked. “We’re at her place now. She’s not here, but I told her to wait with you and she said she would.”

  “She’s on her way,” her mom answered.

  “Oh, thank goodness.”

  “Marissa,” she whispered. “Have you seen the news?”

  “Yes.” The word floated from her lips like a ghost from her worst nightmare. She’d seen the news and much worse this morning. The last woman pulled from the lake could’ve easily been her or Kara. Blake hadn’t even known Nash was back at it until Marissa had gotten away from him yesterday.

  Her gaze drifted back to the men on Kara’s porch, and the world spun. The trio of oversized lawmen had shifted their positions, revealing a previously shielded stack of old-fashioned suitcases beside Kara’s door. The pile was topped with a wedding veil.

  The luggage was posed as if waiting for a photograph.

  Or a honeymoon.

  Marissa said a hasty goodbye to her mother, and tried not to be sick. She gripped the door handle, debating whether or not to jump out and join the men. Questions flooded her mind, but Blake had told her to stay put. She chewed her thumbnail and watched as Blake moved methodically around the perimeter of her sister’s home, running his fingers along the window and door frames, like he had at her place, while curious neighbors looked on. Cole and a member of Blake’s team hauled the cases away with blue-gloved hands.

  Tears of fear welled in her eyes. What did this mean?

  The door locks popped and Blake swung himself in beside her. “Have you found her?” he asked.

  Marissa nodded. “She’s headed to my parents’. Can we go there? I need to see her.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He folded himself behind the wheel and started the truck, a measure of relief in his brow. “No signs of forced entry. You saw the cases?”

  “Yes.” She watched for his reaction, but his expression was painfully blank. “Nash delivered the luggage?”

  “I think so, yes, but it only means that he’s playing with us, nothing more. Once we have Kara, we’ll assign her a detail.” He shot Marissa a pointed look. “This is going to be okay.”

  Marissa felt her brows grind together. “How can you say that?”

  The news van that had attempted following them from the national park turned onto Kara’s street and motored toward them.

  “Because I won’t accept any other outcome.” Blake powered down his window as they drew near. He hung his elbow over the open window when the van stopped beside him in the street. “Deputy Garrett is patrolling this street with a federal agent. Someone reported a sighting of Nash Barclay. I’m headed back to the park to see if anything else has happened there.”

  The stunned news van driver bobbed his head. “Thank you.”

  Blake powered his window up and pressed gently on the gas pedal.

  The van sat in the road for several long beats as Blake’s truck rolled away. He snuck glances in his rearview mirror until the van sprang to life and headed for his brother and teammate.

  Marissa turned on her seat for a better look out the back window. The fear of betrayal burned in her chest. Surely Blake wouldn’t have given a reporter more information than he’d shared with her. Would he? “Was that true about Nash?”

  “No. I lied about the Nash spotting to give the reporter a reason to stay here instead of following us to your parents’ house. Cole has already bagged the evidence and put it out of sight. Let him deal with the reporter.”

  She swiveled back in relief. “What did you
say Cole and the other agent are doing?”

  “They’re canvassing.” Blake gave her a quick look. “It’s due diligence to let her neighbors know he’s out there. Educated civilians have stopped more than one killer. They’ll be assets, keeping watch on her house and property. We’ll broadcast the same message for vigilance on the nightly news, but one-on-one contact is better. People get desensitized. Knocking on their doors is a call to action. It makes them accountable.”

  Marissa nodded, eager now for her childhood home, and bubbling with the need to be with Kara and her parents. “I guess you get to meet my family after all.”

  Blake’s lips curved slightly, and the small smile reached his eyes. “See, the day’s looking up already.”

  She matched his easy expression. “Family’s important to you.” That made one more thing to like about Blake Garrett. Not that she was counting. Her dad would appreciate it, too. “Nothing trumps family” was practically her dad’s motto.

  Blake exhaled with an infinitesimal shake of his head. “Family’s everything.” He gave her a curious look before dropping the smile.

  Marissa straightened in her seat and adjusted the belt, trying not to wonder too much about what that look had meant, or if Blake was making light of those suitcases when they were really something much worse. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Everything. For keeping me safe and calm. For watching out for my sister.”

  He crawled to a stop at the red light before speaking. “My job is to protect people.” The gravelly tone in his voice made her think there was more he wanted to say, but as usual, he didn’t.

  Marissa folded her hands in her lap and turned her face to the widow at her side. She’d almost forgotten the big picture. This wasn’t about her. Blake’s attentiveness and the things he was doing for her weren’t personal. They were in his job description.