Arranging surveillance, meeting with James—all of it had taken longer than Travis had expected. It was early afternoon by the time he returned to Kiera’s condo. Serene had promised the security would be in place by the end of the afternoon. In the meantime, he needed to update Kiera on all that had happened.
Her front door opened before he’d reached the end of the sidewalk. Kiera stood with one hand on the door and the other on the jamb. She smiled, and he felt a welcome like he had come home. He shook the feeling off.
“How’d it go?” she asked as she ushered him inside and closed the door.
The unease and troubled demeanor that had radiated off her this morning was gone. Now there was an aura about her that he found calming. That surprised him considering all she’d been through. But there was so much about her that was a surprise. She wasn’t fitting the profile her file had painted. He couldn’t pigeonhole her and he found that refreshing.
“The feds have agreed to electronic surveillance. Your condo and the area around it will be monitored twenty-four-seven,” Travis said. He regretted what he’d said, how he’d said it, when he saw the look on her face. He regretted that he hadn’t alerted her to his intentions before he left. But, for him, this type of procedure was standard. He’d forgotten, that for her, it wasn’t.
“Is that necessary?”
“Better safe than sorry,” he replied. “The anonymous phone calls are likely nothing more than someone with a sick sense of humor. But we’ll have an eye on your place just to make sure.” She’d already said that she believed the voice sounded like the second kidnapper. Repeating that fact now wouldn’t move the case forward but it would more than likely upset her. Upset was not what he wanted their star witness to be so, for now, he downplayed.
“You mean close my bedroom door when I’m changing?” she asked with a slight smile.
It took him a minute to react. He hadn’t expected a joke. In fact, it hit him so sideways that he didn’t react at all.
“Kidding,” she said before he could answer.
She went to the fridge and opened it, bringing out two bottles of water.
“Here,” she said. “I imagine you haven’t had a break or a drink since you left.”
“Your instincts are spot on,” he said with a laugh and she offered him an answering smile as she sat down on the couch.
He took the drink she offered. Flavored water, lemon, something they admitted they both liked.
“Thank you,” he said as he chugged back a couple of generous swallows before recapping it. He sat down on the couch beside her.
“As you already know, I won’t be here every day,” he said. “There’ll be other marshals taking shifts.” He looked at his watch. “Devon Gowan is due in half an hour. He’ll be taking the next shift.” The shifts were long but not as long as the time he’d spent. He’d stayed until he knew things were stable and Kiera felt safe. “But if you need me, call—I’ll more than likely be in the vicinity.”
“I could have guessed that.”
This time the smile she gave him was rather quirky and her eyes had a look. It was like she knew everything about him.
“Really?”
“You’re not that hard to read, Travis,” she said. “You don’t give up control easily and you feel responsible for me. Although you shouldn’t. Despite what’s happened I have been taking care of myself for a long time.”
“I know,” he said feeling slightly chastised. “Reece Blackburn will take the shift after Devon. Just so you know who’s who.”
“I’ll be fine, really,” she said. “I have everything I need including the update you gave me on the men who will replace you—Devon and then Reece. You’re a worrier, aren’t you?” she asked with a smile.
He was glad to hear the light, almost teasing tone in her voice. She’d been weighted down with enough darkness. Unfortunately, until this trial was over, it was a darkness that was a long way from ending. She’d been through hell. He imagined that a trauma like she’d been through was forever burned in one’s memory, an inescapable nightmare. She’d literally escaped both rape and death. For her to tease, to see humor in anything now, so soon after was, he hoped, a promising sign.
“You worry too much, Trav.”
The diminutive of his name stuck in his mind. Only those closest to him ever called him that. He wondered what that meant in the scope of their relationship. Did she feel the connection he felt? He pushed the thoughts away. There was no relationship, not like that—not ever.
“Is there something else?” she asked.
“No,” he said. “There’s been nothing more. But we aren’t taking any chances with your safety. Last night’s threat was enough. I want you to stay inside. Like I said, we’ll have a marshal on the grounds most of the time and video surveillance twenty-four-seven. Any sign of a problem and someone will be at your door in minutes.”
The smile was gone. Her face was pale.
It was his fault for reminding her of the drama that was currently her life. “I’m sorry…”
“No.” She shook her head. “Thank you. I appreciate all of this.”
“Remember, you’re safe. Help is one phone call away. I or someone else will be continually cruising the area. We have surveillance in place—there’s no chance of anyone getting to you. Plus, the serial killer who began all this is locked up. He can’t get to you.”
“He can’t,” she said, her green eyes shining with determination as they focused on him. “There’s more than one. There’s…” she said.
She could be right. As he’d admitted to James, he was beginning to believe there had to be something to it.
“I know, there’s nothing to prove what the crazy woman claims,” she said with a hint of resentment in her voice. “You’re wrong. I can’t give you details but I know there was another person. It’s not just my imagination.”
He’d tried not to frown, to keep his face placid. And yet, some of what she said was right. This case wasn’t over because the killer went to jail; there was something else, something they’d all missed.
“I heard both of them the night they took me,” she persisted.
“I know what you think, about there being two serial killers, a partnership. It’s rare but I haven’t discounted it. In fact, I spoke to my superior about it.”
She leaned back against the wall, as if standing without support was too much.
“If there’s someone else out there, we’ll catch them, I promise.”
She nodded, her lips tense. But a look of gratitude was in her eyes as she took a step toward him.
“Thank you,” she said. “For believing.”
She touched his arm and the heat of her touch seemed to sear his skin.
“I appreciate everything you’ve done but I’ve at least had a few hours’ sleep. You need to rest,” she said. Her eyes seemed to take in everything about him. “We’ve been joined at the hip for the last thirty-two hours,” she continued. “And spending the night in your vehicle was no way to get a good night’s rest. You can’t be watching me almost twenty-four-seven. And,” she interrupted when he was about to state his argument to her accurate observation. “I know you haven’t been here all the time. And you don’t need to be. No one does. It’s enough to know that you’re a phone call away and that there will soon be a monitoring system. Having someone here the majority of the time is more than enough. Being watched by someone in your office, well, I couldn’t be safer.” She lifted her hand from his arm, but the heat didn’t dissipate; she was still too close.
His phone dinged. It was a text message from Devon.
She stood up and went to the window, looking out.
“Devon will be here in a few minutes,” he said to Kiera as he joined her.
“Good,” she said with a smile. “You’ll be able to get some sleep.”
She turned and gave him a gentle push toward the door.
“Hey,” he said with a playful tone to his voice.
“Get going,” she said with a smile.
“Determined, are you?” he flirted. Damn it, man, cool it, he chastised himself.
“Always,” she replied with a serious tone.
He knew that she’d been running her own life too long to play by other’s rules. It was a trait he’d picked up on immediately after reading her file. It was there that he’d read of her guardian’s death. It was there that he’d learned how she’d been independent since the age of eighteen. It impressed him even now to know that she’d put herself through a master’s degree in nursing while never losing sight of her goal. She’d worked toward her chosen career while holding a part-time job and living alone.
At the door, he turned to face her.
“You haven’t had much sleep yourself,” he said.
He was leaving her safety in the hands of another man. Despite the fact that Devon was a friend, it didn’t sit well. He didn’t want to think of all the reasons why that might be the case. He couldn’t go there, for to go there—to where his feelings lay—would break the barriers he was attempting to build.
“I’m fine,” she said as if she could read his mind. “Quit worrying. A bath and a nap are all I need.”
“Keep your door locked. Devon will be around. He may check in from time to time but if that becomes bothersome, just tell him.”
She gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes this time.
“Thanks, Travis. All of this makes me feel better, especially after last night.”
“We’ll keep you safe. You have my number…”
“I have my gun too,” she reminded him as she’d done earlier.
He said nothing. He didn’t need to be reminded of that. She had a Colt .45 in her possession. She also had no training, no practice with firearms that he knew of. A gun in the hands of someone not used to firing it could be deadlier than someone who was unarmed. The weapon could be used against her. He could only hope that that situation didn’t occur. Instead he skated over the comment. He’d instructed Devon to notify him if anything changed, even a feeling of an imminent change—anything at all. He wanted to know. In the meantime, she’d be all right. She had to be.
“By the way,” she said, interrupting his thoughts. “Your security installation expert—I believe that’s what he called himself—he called me from the driveway before ever getting out of his vehicle. I’m not sure what he expected to find here, a fire-breathing dragon? What the heck did you say to him?”
Travis chuckled. “I didn’t say anything. At least nothing that wasn’t true.” He’d warned Jed that she was jumpy as a result of all that had happened and she also had a weapon. Jed had obviously taken the necessary precautions not to surprise her.
A knock on the door interrupted his rather drawn-out goodbye. His hand was on the doorknob. He wasn’t ready to hand her safety over to anyone else completley, even someone as skilled as Devon. But no one was at their peak with no sleep and if he were honest he’d admit that he’d reached his limit. He was done. He was only human, and he needed sleep. He opened the door.
“Looking a little worn, pal,” Devon Gowan said as he entered the condo. “Age getting to you?”
“Thanks,” Travis said with a grin. Devon had been part of the group that had gone out for drinks to celebrate Travis’s thirtieth birthday. At the jokes about old age and turning thirty, Devon had only laughed as he’d reached his thirty-fifth over six months ago. Thirty, he’d joked, was a nothing birthday.
Devon held out his hand to Kiera. “Devon. Good to meet you.”
Kiera took it without hesitation. “I’m glad you’re here.”
She nodded toward Travis.
“He needs a break.”
Travis couldn’t help but smile. There was a maternal note to her voice that he hadn’t heard before. He was feeling slightly better about leaving her.
“Thought I’d at least introduce myself and after that I’ll make myself scarce,” Devon said. “I won’t get in your way. All I ask is that you remain on your property. And if for any reason you plan to leave—I need to know. Although I’d prefer…”
“That I stay here.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He gave her a nod. “Here’s my number if you need to call.”
He and Travis exchanged some final details and a minute later the door closed behind Devon.
Kiera looked at him with doubt in her eyes.
“He’s good,” Travis assured her.
“He’s not you,” she said.
He wasn’t sure what she meant by that and he wasn’t going to put any meaning into it. He couldn’t. She was an assignment, nothing more. Still, he hesitated. If leaving had been difficult before, it was worse now. She was more than an assignment. Although even admitting it to himself felt wrong. He needed to put a stop to his feelings.
“Go,” she said and gave him a light push. “Get some sleep. I’ll be fine.”
He hoped she was right as he closed the door behind him.
* * *
RAGE RAN WHITE HOT through every pore.
Eric should be here and he wasn’t because of that cursed nurse. Because of their last victim. The nurse thought she’d gotten away. She was wrong. Her rotten scent could be sniffed out; she’d be found. For one, her name was on her tag and even though Eric had panicked and thrown her purse into a Dumpster, it hadn’t been hard to find where she lived. For the first time since they’d begun the spree, they’d stayed near the city where their last victim was taken. In every other kill, they’d been hundreds of miles away before the body got cold. Now there was no leaving, not until the work was done, not until Kiera Connell was dead.
The pen snapped, and a drop of red ink hit one hand and landed on the edge of her freshly pressed T-shirt. The red stain looked like blood. And it was a reminder that blood was life and the ability to take life was power.
She’d planned to go back to Denver. There they could set up house together—rest, have a stay-cation before they hit the road again. That had been her plan all along. Once they’d finished with the latest victim, they’d retire for a while. Whether it was a month or two, or even a year, she didn’t know. But the plan had been solid, she’d already made steps in that direction. That had all been before Eric had fallen into the hands of the law.
Anger raced through her. For now, all that was ruined. They’d left the victim restrained and cruised the city, dragging out the moment when they could enjoy their captive. It’s what they always did—the best was saved for last: rape and murder. It was like holding off opening a Christmas present. At least that’s how she’s explained it to Eric when she’d first begun the ritual. This time, she’d agreed to grab them something to eat and dropped Eric off. She knew that he’d wait for her. For he never raped unless she was there to watch. But the bitch had somehow escaped either in the time they’d cruised around together anticipating the final moments with her or while she’d been getting takeout and Eric had gone to the nearest convenience store for the cigarettes he refused to give up. He’d been back first and had obviously missed signs that the law’s trap lay in wait. She’d been just behind him, far enough back to get away. Now, all that was left was revenge.
Kiera Connell had stolen the only person who mattered. And the phone calls had done nothing to release the anger. None of them, not even the rage and threat spewed on the last call. Kiera had ruined everything. Kiera needed to die, long and slow and painfully.
In the meantime, patience was all that was left.
But nothing came easy, nothing ever had. Even Eric had taken years to find. First there’d been enduring a marriage to someone who had put food on the table and grief in their bed. Years of abuse had ended in a brutal, messy way. A hammer in mid rant had ended it all. The burial spot would never be found. Gone and run off was as good an excuse as any when people asked, but few did. Now that was all in the past. The new life, the new name—all of it was the start of a life that had once been only a dream.
There’d been lonely years in between but it was then that the skills of the craft were honed. First on transients found along secondary highways, at least in the days before Eric.
Eric.
They’d had years of bliss. But, now it was over, he was gone and only anger was left.
Eric.
He’d been a teenage runaway, eager to learn—to be molded into the man he had become. Despite her rough marriage, she hadn’t been that old herself. She’d been twenty-eight to his sixteen when she’d found him. He’d already spent a few years on the street. It was perfect. She was old enough to know more than he but young enough to understand him. And for years their sadistic crime spree had flown under the radar. But, as their crimes became more ambitious and the missing women began to add up, their actions gained notoriety. For the last year, people had lived in fear of them. It had been a wonderful time, a glorious time. The highs they’d felt during those exhilarating months as they’d crisscrossed the country were now only memories. The highs needed to come back but alone it was impossible. There was only one thing to do. While it wouldn’t fix everything, it would give some satisfaction.
Justice.
To get justice, the last victim, the traitor, needed to die.
The authorities thought they could protect their star witness. They thought she was safe with Eric behind bars. They believed that Eric had run a one-man show.
What a laugh.
He didn’t have it in him to have enjoyed and killed as many women as they had. On his own he was messy and far from able to plan and maneuver into the future. Alone, he would have been caught a long time ago.
The window of the van that had been home for the last three weeks needed to be washed. The van replaced the vehicle before, and the one before that. The vehicles had been temporary homes stolen from neglected and troubled places where the odds of their loss being reported was minimal to none. It was chilly. Was Eric cold? It was hard to stop worrying about someone who had been your responsibility for so many years. It was impossible to stop thinking of him now for he’d been everything, son—partner in crime.
This must finish on their terms, for Eric. Justice for Eric. It was the one thing that needed to be done. It was the only thing that would make everything right. The kill that was the most important and the one that would be the last. And whether it was or not, the excitement at the thought was like no other.