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Seventeen

Cheating husbands get taken out. I could imagine the headline, and I hated it—not that we knew they were all cheaters yet. I’d like to think there was a deeper motive to the killings than a wayward spouse. You cheat on me, so I kill you. Ouch!

I glanced over at Paige, who was set up on the other side of the conference table. She had one foot up on her chair, her bent knee to her chin, and she read the reports from the folder in front of her, her lips moving slightly at she did so. I couldn’t miss the irony that I was holed up with Paige—whom I’d had an affair with—digging into men’s lives who seemed to have been a little less chivalrous than morals demanded. I also had a hard time ignoring the fact every time I looked at Paige, my heart picked up its pace. But I would ignore it as long as we worked together, and I had Becky in my life. Cheating once was enough, and I thought I’d buried all the guilt that came with it, but apparently, it had just been lying dormant beneath the surface, ready to bubble up and overwhelm me. For a brief moment, I wondered if it was this guilt that kept holding me back from finding any sort of comfort in a committed relationship. Maybe on some level, I didn’t think I was worthy of one.

But these men, even if they were unfaithful… It would hardly seem possible that one person had been wronged by all four men and decided to take them out. That reasoning lent itself to a hired gun, even if there wasn’t a money trail to support it.

I peeked up at Paige again, taking in how her red hair hooked over a shoulder, how her lipstick had faded more from her top lip than her bottom one.

I put my folder down and made it obvious I was watching her.

She slowly pried her eyes from what she was reading and looked at me. “Yes?”

“Do you think we’re looking at the same killer in all these murders?”

“Seems likely. Same MO—as far as we can see. Straight to the heart. The ME hasn’t confirmed it yet, but I wouldn’t be surprised to hear that Darrell’s heart was hit, given the location he was struck.”

“I know you were leaning away from a hired gun, but what if someone out there makes it their business to rid loyal spouses of their problems?” Something cinched in my chest as the last segment of my sentence came out. It was a severe judgment passed upon myself. If the criteria for becoming a target was adultery, I could be a victim, too. But it wasn’t like I’d set out to be a bastard. I’d certainly been raised better and was even given the example of a long-lasting and faithful marriage in my parents.

“Assuming all four victims were even cheating. Nadia only confirmed one widow got pictures. So far, Reid’s a rumor. With the others, all we know is they had marriage problems.”

“Cheating being a significant marriage problem,” I tossed back, and her eyes flicked to mine. Guilt tightened its grip. While my brief affair with Paige hadn’t been the culprit behind the dissolution of my marriage, it was an obvious symptom that something was wrong to start with. It wasn’t the disease; it was a symptom… Maybe if I told myself that enough times, I would be able to tamp down my remorse. They say it takes two for a marriage to work. Then, by deduction, it would take two to fall apart. Sometimes I wasn’t as generous at forgiving myself.

Paige held my gaze for seconds but didn’t say anything. I sensed she could tell what I was thinking, how I was feeling. She put her leg down and glanced away at the whiteboards, and when she turned back to me, her expression hardened. “The locations of the hits cover a lot of territory with—what?—hundreds or thousands of miles between them.”

“Just means our unsub is mobile. But if Zach was here, he could tell you the distance off the top of his head.”

“Man, I miss that guy, Pending.” Paige winked at me. “Pending” was Zach’s nickname for me. He easily dispensed with it during my two-year probationary period, but even when I became a full-fledged agent, he still found occasion to pull it out—just because he knew it bothered me.

Good ol’ Zach.

“Let’s not start with that again—unless it’s directed at Kelly.”

Paige laughed.

“But in all seriousness,” I started, “I still think we might be looking at a hit man.”

“You’re forgetting there’s nothing to prove the transfer of money.”

I held Paige’s eye. “So what? Our sniper is acting on their own prompting—why? And why these men?” I gestured to pictures of all the victims I’d set on the table in front of me.

“Don’t know, but there’s something personal there—between the sniper and those men.” Paige’s gaze went to the photos. “I mean, they were shot in the heart.”

It was the second time that Paige had pointed that out in less than so many minutes. Was Paige feeling the connection to her own life? She hadn’t been the one to cheat on a spouse, but she’d been a mistress. I met Paige’s eyes and considered saying something about our past, but her phone rang.

“Special Agent Dawson,” she answered. “Uh-huh. Okay. Great.” She put her phone on the table. “That was Captain Herrera. The ME confirmed the shot was a direct hit to the heart. Death would have been instant for Reid. And the bullet fragments have been removed and are being sent to the lab for analysis, but it’s believed to have been a 7.62×51mm NATO bullet.”

“Same as in these three cases.” I pointed to the report from Nadia.

“Uh-huh.”

“We need to call Jack.”

“Herrera’s on that.” Paige spun her phone on the table. “But there’s more. Since Crime Scene Investigators now have the angle at which the round entered Reid’s body, they’re on the street figuring out the triangulation and where the shot may have been fired from. With any luck, within an hour or two, Herrera figures we’ll have a good idea of where the sniper set up.”

“That’s a start.” I should be more excited about her news, but I couldn’t bring myself to feel it.

“A start? Don’t get all excited on me,” she teased.

“It’s just there’s not likely to be any evidence to find—at least nothing that’s going to get us to our shooter.”

“Someone’s gone dark.”

She has no idea! There were times it was difficult working with Paige; being paired with her, on this case no less, was a cruel trick of fate.

“This is a tough case.” She spoke so softly I wondered if I’d imagined hearing her voice.

I nodded. It was all I felt like doing. To say anything would just complicate things more than they already were.

There was a knock on the door, and Officer Green entered the room.

“I found something you might like to know. It’s from the tenant list. One of the condos is registered to a corporation, and it’s owned by Bert Pryce.”

I could tell Green thought this finding was a gem, but— “Who’s Bert Pryce?”

“Reid’s father-in-law.”

“Oh.” I glanced at Paige, back at Green. “He lives there?”

Green shook his head. “The Pryces live out in Washington.”

“What does the company do?” Paige asked.

“Source high-end artwork for corporate offices and hotels,” Green replied. “It’s likely the condo’s used for schmoozing out-of-town clients.”

“The question now is whether Reid was going to Pryce’s place or visiting someone else,” I laid out.

“And if Reid was going to his father-in-law’s condo, was he using it as his personal bachelor pad?”

“Ballsy…if so.” I looked at Green. “Thanks for the update.”

“Uh-huh.” Green left the room.

“We’ve got to call Jack right away,” Paige started. “Maybe we’ll catch him and Kelly while they’re still at the Reids’ house, and they can press Arlene about this.”