Mack stood in the makeshift office and stared at the map projected on the wall. Something was bugging him about this case, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
“Mack?” a voice asked from the doorway, and he turned to see Charlotte peeking in the door. “Everything okay? It’s late.”
“Everything’s fine,” he said. “It is late. Why are you still up?”
Her smile brightened his day no matter when she hit him with it, and tonight was no different. Her black eye and bruised chin didn’t detract from her beauty. In fact, in his eyes, those bruises reminded him that behind her beauty was an irrefutable strength few people had.
She stepped into the room and walked past the large wooden desk the senator used when he was home. Now it held Secure One computers and link-ups to headquarters. They had a dead body and attempted kidnapping on their watch, and he wasn’t any happier about it than Cal. While it was beyond their control, it also put their name back in the media. Cal had tried to minimize publicity about their security service since The Miss was killed, but it appeared the universe was not cooperating with him.
“That or this is still tied to The Madame,” Mack muttered.
“What now?” Charlotte asked, her back stiffening at the utterance of her former boss’s name.
“I’m sorry.” He grimaced at himself. “I didn’t mean to say that aloud. I was thinking about how we can’t keep Secure One out of the news no matter how hard we try. Cal is frustrated that The Madame and The Miss have kept us on the public’s radar.”
“And you think all of this,” she motioned around the map, “is tied to The Madame?”
“I don’t know, but according to Roman and Mina, several women were found in rivers while The Madame was operating.” His head swung back and forth in frustration as he tried to see a pattern that wasn’t there.
“What is this?” Charlotte pointed at the map of the United States. “Rivers?”
“Yeah,” he said, his hand going through his short brown hair in frustration. Unlike Cal, he’d gotten rid of the high and tight hairstyle the moment he left the field on a stretcher. His boss liked to tease him that he looked like an FBI agent now, just like Roman. He’d shake his head in disdain but be laughing while he did it. “Each highlighted river represents a place where at least one body was found since they started finding women. The most recent women were wearing red gowns.”
“So, the bodies found in the rivers while The Madame was in operation weren’t in red?” she asked.
“Not according to Mina. It was only when the recent bodies were discovered that they were wearing red gowns. A news reporter dubbed him The Red River Slayer, and it stuck.” The moniker might be accurate, but something about it set his teeth on edge.
“If you think about it, I could have been one of those women.”
Mack sucked in air through his nose. “I try not to think about that, okay?”
“I think about it all the time.” She stared at the wall rather than make eye contact with him. “When they found the first woman, I was new to the Red Rye House. When other women I lived with started disappearing, I thought they left of their own free will. But I was naive enough back then to believe we could leave.”
“But you didn’t know if the women who disappeared were the women they found.”
Her shrug gave him the answer. “How could I? It wasn’t like we were allowed to watch or listen to the news. We were very sheltered in Red Rye.”
“Nothing?” Mack asked in surprise with a lifted brow.
“Nothing. We had no cable or news channels on the television, and all we could do was stream movies. We also didn’t have a radio. I heard about them finding the women on the radio when I was on a date,” which she put in quotation marks, “but they said they hadn’t identified them yet. Not that they couldn’t identify them. I didn’t find that out until I left The Miss and came here.”
“And now we’ve found another woman from The Miss.”
“Layla.” She said the name with reverence. As though saying it that way gave her an identity. “When she disappeared, I figured The Miss sold or killed her. She wasn’t bringing any money in, and The Miss didn’t put up with that for long.”
“And she disappeared eighteen months ago?” Mack asked again.
“I thought about it, and the timeline is correct within a few months. I’ve already been at Secure One for six months, and she disappeared about a year before I surrendered.”
“This is the first time we’ve had a timeline. You’re the reason we have it, even if you did disobey orders. We’ll have to talk about your propensity to do that.”
“Last time I checked, Cal’s my boss, not you.” She looked him up and down in a way that brought a smile to his lips.
“Noted, but when you’re here with me, I’m the boss regarding quick decisions as the situation warrants.”
“Accepted, but I will protect Ella no matter the cost. You may as well know that.”
“I do,” he promised, tracing his thumb over her jaw, the bump smaller after a night of rest and ice. “But I don’t have to like it. Have you always been this brave, Char?”
Her blue eyes held his, and he watched her wrap her arms around herself in a hug. “No. I used to live in fear every second of the day. I was afraid of my foster parents and siblings when I was a kid. When I hit the streets, I was afraid of the dark and the things it held, so I painted at night. It was safer to be awake and see them coming. When I started working for The Madame, I was afraid of the men she made me date. When I started working for The Miss, I was afraid of everything.”
“What changed?”
“Me.” Her answer was simple, but he knew the explanation was far more complicated. “When I looked back on my life, fear was the common thread running through it. I could keep being afraid and keep being taken advantage of, or I could snip the thread of fear and see what happened.”
Mack nodded, the explanation making sense to him. “I understand.” Her snort was sarcastic and pithy. He turned her chin to meet his gaze. “I know you don’t think so, but I do. My dad and I were in a car accident when I was a toddler. I lived. He didn’t. My mother struggled the rest of her life with the fear of losing me. She didn’t let me do anything out of fear that I’d get hurt and die too. I grew up thinking every new experience was scary and should be avoided. Our experiences were different, there is no doubt, but I understand what you mean by a thread of fear. I had to cut mine too.”
“When you went into the service?”
“No, when my mother got cancer when I was a teenager, I realized she wasn’t going to make it. Suddenly, I had to figure out how to live unafraid.”
“I’m still afraid a lot of the time, but I tell myself that when I do something even while I’m afraid, the next thing I have to do will be a little easier.”
A smile lifted his lips, and he nodded. “You’re right, and it’s working. I remember the woman who surrendered to us six months ago, and she’s not the same woman standing before me today.”
This time, it was her smile that beamed back at him. “I’m glad someone noticed. I’ve worked hard in therapy to accept that a lot of what’s happened to me was done to me and not something I did to myself.”
“That’s important to remember,” Mack agreed. It was true for her, but not for him. What happened to him was something he had done to himself. He only had to look at his boots to be reminded of that.
“I argued that I did make a lot of bad choices, and the therapist agreed, but she also pointed out that I never had any good choices to start with.”
“She makes a point.”
Charlotte tipped her head in agreement and crossed her arms over her chest. “After I thought about it, I decided that I could continue to make bad choices or start from scratch and make better ones. Go to therapy. Work a job. Be part of a team instead of going it alone.”
“The changes you’ve made the last six months haven’t been overlooked. I hope you know that. We’re all incredibly proud of you.”
Mack noted the pink creep up her cheeks at his compliment. That was something else she needed to learn how to accept—how integral she was to the team.
“Thank you,” she said, glancing down at the floor.
He tipped her chin up again and held her gaze. “Hold your head high, Charlotte. You’ve got grit and proved it, including when you fought off someone twice your size to protect a young girl. That takes guts. How is your head?”
“Okay,” she said with a shy smile. “I’m being careful and following Selina’s orders so I don’t make anything worse. It’s been fun hanging out and being with Ella today, but I’m ready to work now.”
“Eric is here to protect Ella.”
“Understood, but I can help in other ways. Let me help you figure this out.” She motioned at the map and took a step closer. “Some of these rivers run through more than one state. How do we know what location he put them in the river?”
“We don’t,” Mack answered with frustration. “That’s part of the problem. Obviously, everything floats downstream, and some rivers run through several states. For instance, the Mississippi flows through seven states. It’s nearly impossible to know where the body was dumped.”
“Which means he gets away with it longer because these rivers run all over the country. Well, except for Layla.”
Mack’s attention shifted from the map to the woman who always, despite her ordeal, had a ready smile. Her long blond hair was wavy, and she wore it tied behind her head with a band. Her blue eyes were luminous in the light from the projector, even with a black eye, and her lips were pursed as she finished the last word.
“Except for Layla?”
“Think about it, Mack,” she said, stepping in front of him to point at the map. Her body slid across his in a whisper of material that sent a burning need straight through him. “She was found outside St. Paul, right?” He nodded, and she raised her hand to point at the top of the map. “And we know the Mississippi originates at Lake Itasca. That’s what, about three hours north of where she was found?”
How had he not thought of that? She was right. The Mississippi headwaters were only an hour from Secure One, the way the crow flies.
“We should have thought of that,” he said, snapping the projector off and leaving the lights low. “Thank you for pointing it out. I can’t believe we missed something so obvious.”
Her tiny hand waved his words away. “The difference is that you have too much information about all the other women. Since I don’t know anything about those cases, my mind tracked the possibilities for just Layla. Do you think that means the killer is from Minnesota?”
Mack didn’t cut himself any slack despite her insistence. He should have been concentrating on one woman’s journey at a time instead of as a group. That was exactly what he would do tomorrow. He’d focus solely on each woman and see if a pattern developed rather than as a whole, where the pattern seemed willy-nilly.
“There’s no way to know that, but my gut says no. The women have been found in rivers all over the country. In the beginning, the bodies were found randomly, then we had a period of inactivity, and now, they’re finding a woman every six weeks.”
“Which means we only have about five weeks until another woman like Layla is found,” Charlotte said, and Mack noticed a shiver go up her spine.
He didn’t stop himself from reaching over to tenderly rub the base of her back. “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to keep witnessing women you know dying in this way.”
“Those women didn’t do anything to deserve this. They were looking for a better life than one on the streets, just like I was, so as long as I’m still breathing, I’ll fight for them.”
“I know,” Mack assured her, pulling her into him and wrapping his arm around her shoulder. “We know the women were innocent victims. The FBI has known that for years, but when the perp was killing women with no identities, they had nothing to go on.”
“They never convinced The Madame or her husband to tell them who the women were?”
Mack wished he could hide his anger when he shook his head, but he knew she could see the way his jaw pulsed at the idea of how badly the FBI had botched the investigation. “Of course not. If they admitted they knew who the women were, it would implicate them in their murders. I’m sure their lawyers told them to remain silent.”
“True,” she agreed. “Do you have a list of the victims along with when and where they were found?”
“Yes.”
“Good, then we take it one step further and mark the exact location where a body was found on the map.”
“That still doesn’t tell us where the body was dumped.”
He felt her shrug under his hand before she spoke. “Just trying to help.”
Mack swore internally for shooting her down. “I’m sorry,” he said, turning her to face him. “I’m frustrated with this case. It’s hard when I know that every time the sun comes up, another woman is one day closer to death. I may no longer be in the army, but I’ll always be someone who wades into battle to save the innocents. This,” he said with frustration as he flicked his hand at the projector, “has to stop.”
Char braced her delicate hand on his chest, and her warmth spread through him like wildfire. It calmed and centered him. She made such a difference in his life just by being in it, and she grounded him when he was ready to pop off into the atmosphere from frustration. She was also the calming touch he needed when he wanted to rage against the world, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He could never be with this woman, so having that kind of reaction to her was problematic.
“If anyone can find this guy, Secure One can. You work together to save the people you care about, and that’s what makes the team successful. Maybe a pattern will naturally develop if you plot out the places where the women were found.”
Mack ran a hand down his face as he stared at the map. “You’re right. I’ll have Mina do it tomorrow since she has the kind of mind that will see the pattern developing as she goes.”
“She’ll also be rested, and you’re not, Mack. You need to sleep, or you won’t be any good to anyone.”
He shut off the computer and walked with her to the door. “I’ll try to sleep, but I’ll end up staring at the ceiling until the sun comes up.”
Her laughter was genuine when it reached his ears. “Some nights, I’d rather stare at the ceiling than deal with the nightmares.”
“Those are the nights I find you in the kitchen,” Mack pointed out as he shut the lights off.
“There’s something comforting about a quiet kitchen at two a.m. with the scent of bread baking in the oven. I’d rather be tired and busy than tired and idle.”
“It leaves too much time to think,” they said in unison.
She glanced at him for a moment with a look of consideration, sympathy and understanding in her blue eyes before she waved and turned away from him. He stood rooted in place until she disappeared. As he walked to his room, the memories of his time with Char filled him. She was far more intuitive than she understood, which made him wonder why she was the way she was. Life on the street hardened a person, but something happened to her before she found herself on the street. What was it? That was the question. Mack was sure the answer would be no more forthcoming than his answer to the question she’d asked one night in the kitchen.
What happened out there in that giant sandbox no one wants to play in, Mack?
There were things he wouldn’t discuss with anyone, and that included Charlotte. One of those things was the sandbox that held nothing but pain and regret. Charlotte had enough of those two things in her short life.