IT WAS STILL DARK when a ringing phone roused Vivi. Half awake and half asleep, she struggled to a sitting position and thought for a moment that it couldn't possibly be her cell. Her eyes were gritty from crying earlier, and next to her, Ian looked as confused as she felt. Then the phone rang again, and she remembered that Ian had brought her purse in from her car when they'd come back to bed. They'd lain together for a long time until she'd needed him to remind her of some of the good things in life. After that, they'd fallen asleep.
Slapping her hand on the bedside table, she located the nuisance and answered without looking at the number.
“It's three in the morning, Viv, luv. And you're not in bed. Not your bed anyway.”
“Nick.”
Beside her, Ian sat up and switched on a lamp. They both blinked in the sudden flood of light.
“I decided you could use my help,” Nick said.
“You decided not to trust me.” Vivi ran her fingers through her hair and rubbed her aching eyes. Nick was the last thing she needed right now.
“I always trusted you, Viv. I just didn't always believe in you. But I learn from my mistakes.”
“What do you want, Nick?”
“Right now? A place to crash. Tomorrow, maybe we can talk.”
“Fine, help yourself to my room. But if you call me before I call you tomorrow, you'll be dead in the water.”
She ended the call and slid back into bed. Ian looked down at her. She closed her eyes, then cracked one open when he didn't move in to lie next to her. “He's fine, Ian. Nick's not going to do anything too dumb.”
“How is he going to get into your room and how does he even know where you're staying?”
“Nick knows all sorts of things, and believe me, we don't have to worry about how he'll get into my room.”
Ian frowned. “Okay. Do I need to worry about him? About the investigation?”
She opened both eyes and looked at Ian. Really looked at him. He was worried. “In what way?” She propped herself up on her elbows.
“Is he going to try to run roughshod over me? Believe me, I have no problem putting and keeping a man in his place, but this, well, it's all the legal stuff…” His voice trailed off.
Vivi lifted a hand and touched his cheek. “It does take some time to figure out how to use the system and, you're right, the legal ins and outs. But between your common sense and my experience, I don't think Nick will be able to get away with anything.”
“But he'll try?”
She gave him a rueful smile. “Nick will always try. But once he has the measure of the man, so to speak, he'll back off and play nice.”
Ian lifted a hand and traced a finger down the tip of her nose to her lips, then brushed it across them, soft and slow. Leaning down, he replaced it with his lips. “Promise?” he asked against her mouth.
She slipped a hand behind his neck and pulled him in for a proper kiss, then let him pull back as she spoke. “I'm not going to promise something I'm not certain I can deliver, but I can promise that you can count on me to see this thing through the best way we decide how.”
He studied her eyes. His chest brushed against her with his every breath. Then he reached behind him and turned the lamp back off, casting them into darkness. She felt his lips brush her neck. She threaded her fingers into his hair and pulled him down to her.
“Sound like a plan, MacAllister?”
She felt his smile against her lips. “Sounds like a plan, DeMarco.”
* * *
Even from twenty feet away, Ian sensed Vivienne's discomfort. Lingering in the hallway, he watched her reach for her dress, still on the kitchen table, and pull it over her head. Her shoulders were set and she hadn't looked at him for more than a fleeting second all morning. He had an idea of what was going on. A strong independent woman like Vivienne would feel awkward, if not embarrassed, by her breakdown the night before. It was ridiculous, but she didn't know that. Or didn't trust that he wouldn't make her feel bad about it, or use it against her.
“Will you make some coffee?” he asked from his position. She spun, startled to see him there, and after staring for a moment, gave a reluctant nod. He'd bet she was planning on leaving at the first chance. Now he'd made her stay. As he climbed into the shower, he devised a plan to make her okay with everything that had happened, everything that had been said the night before.
Dressed in his uniform, he entered the kitchen. Vivienne was standing with her back to him, cup in hand, looking out onto the backyard. She was back in the clothes she'd come in last night, shoes and all, and her hair was loose, falling well below her shoulders. His eyes skimmed her from behind.
“I was a little preoccupied last night, but how is your ankle? And the cuts?”
She looked over her shoulder, but didn't turn to face him. “The ankle is fine. It was fine after a few hours. The cuts are ugly, but don't hurt at all. Thanks for asking.”
Her tone wasn't cold but didn't hold anything personal either.
“Thanks for staying,” Ian said, approaching her. Stopping about a foot away, he saw her body tense. “I don't know if you noticed, but I didn't have any nightmares. Thanks for that.”
“Except for having a hysterical woman clinging to you.”
He had hoped to remind her that she wasn't the only one who had shared vulnerabilities last night. That she wasn't alone. But, judging by her grumbled answer, he hadn't. Truth be told, he wasn't very comfortable with his diagnosis of PTSD and was even less comfortable with the fact that he was still experiencing episodes. But if he could use it to make her feel better, he would. Too bad it hadn't worked.
He put his hands on her shoulders and forced her to turn around. When she was facing him, he slid his hands up to frame her face.
“Look at me, Vivienne,” he ordered. Her eyes went left, then right. When it became clear he wasn't going to let it go, she let out a deep sigh and met his gaze.
“You fell apart last night. You broke down, you lost it, you sobbed, and you clung to me.” He could feel her jaw clenching under his palms, but he continued, knowing she needed to hear what he had to say to her. Knowing he needed her to know how he felt. “You lost your family, Vivienne. Your family.” His voice was quiet.
She didn't relax under his hands, but there was a shadow of curiosity creeping into her eyes and so he went on. “Everything you're feeling—every ounce of anger, of sadness, of emptiness, of guilt—you're entitled to feel, Vivienne.”
Her eyes were watching his intently now. “There is nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to be embarrassed about. I'm not going to tell the world about what happened. And you should know that when I look at you now, after last night, I still see an amazing woman. You're a professor, a cop, an ME, an FBI consultant, a psychologist. You're not weak, Vivienne, you're human.”
A single tear trickled out of her eye, slid down her cheek, and landed on his thumb. He brushed it away.
“You came from your family. They are a part of you. And knowing what I know of you, they must have been good people. People you have every right to mourn in whatever way you need to.”
Vivienne's dark eyes stared back at him. And after several heartbeats, when he was sure she believed him, he leaned in and gave her a light kiss.
“Now that that is out of way, shall we get back to work?” Ian coupled his comment with an easy smile. It did the job and she gave him a tentative one in response. He moved to pour himself a cup of coffee to go, but she grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him back.
“Thank you, Ian.” Her voice was soft, but strong. “Not just for doing what you just did, but for being there for me last night, for listening to me, for holding me. And, most of all, for letting me be all those things I am. For making it okay to be all those things.”
Something shifted in the range of his chest as he looked down at her. He dipped his head and gave her another kiss. And then another. And then her hands came around his neck and he let her pull him into a kiss that was anything but soft and sweet.
“God, when you kiss me like that I want to crawl inside you,” she said when they pulled apart. Everything, except one strategic part of him, went still. She must have noticed.
“Uh, was that kind of creepy?” She looked cute when she was embarrassed.
“No,” he responded, wrapping his arms around her. “But you can't say something like that and then not expect me to react.” And react he did. Not happy with sitting her on the kitchen table, he stripped her down, again, and took her back to bed, again, so he could feel every inch of her against and around him, again.
* * *
Having left Ian to talk to Rob about something or another, Vivi walked up the steps of The Tavern to her room. She slid the key in the lock and the door swung open, revealing Nick. Lost in thought about the night before, she'd almost forgotten about him. Wearing jeans and a white t-shirt, he lounged in one of the chairs. His dark hair was damp and his cowboy boot–clad feet were propped up on the desk.
“Hello, luv.” The smile he gave her was more knowing than friendly.
“Nick.”
They eyed each other for a long moment—Vivi feeling like she wasn't quite sure what to do with him, and Nick not bothering to hide the fact that he was taking her in. High heels, short dress, messy hair, and, she was pretty sure, a mark or two on her neck.
“Well, darling, you look well and truly—”
“Finish that sentence and you will regret it.” Ian said, stepping up behind her. Vivi said nothing, watching as Nick's eyes went from her to Ian and lingered there for a while.
Then Nick gave a small nod. “I was going to say ‘rested,’ darling. You look well and truly rested.”
Vivi rolled her eyes but stepped into the room. “Nick, Deputy Chief Ian MacAllister. Ian, Agent Nick Larrimore, Army Investigation Division.” Ian closed the door behind them; neither man bothered to shake hands.
“Rob doesn't have any more rooms,” Ian commented.
“I can always stay with you, luv,” Nick interjected.
“Shut up, Nick. You don't have any jurisdiction here so remember where your bread is buttered.” She didn't bother looking at him as she said this—he'd spoken only to get a rise out of Ian. Instead, she moved toward her luggage and started gathering her clothes.
“So, it looks like you're certain Jessica Akers was a victim of a serial killer,” Nick said from behind her. She assumed he was referring to the files she'd left lying on her desk. He probably knew them better than she did at this point.
“We have another body. Vivienne did the autopsy yesterday,” Ian answered as she dug through her bag looking for a clean pair of socks.
“Same method of death?” Nick asked.
“Down to the type of shackles,” Ian answered.
“Sorry about that,” Nick commiserated with Ian. “Are you going to call in the FBI?”
Vivi turned around at that and almost bumped into Ian who was standing right behind her. Startled at his closeness, she looked at him, then at Nick, who gave her a crooked grin, then back at Ian, who shrugged.
“I was admiring your backside, luv. Deputy Chief MacAllister thought maybe I shouldn't.”
Vivi's eyes went back to Ian, who looked a little embarrassed, then back again to Nick, who was grinning openly now. She sighed.
“Be nice. I'm going to take a shower and then we can head to the station to start the geographic analysis.” She gave each man a pointed look before disappearing into the bathroom. She wasn't sure about the wisdom of leaving both men in the same room unattended, but what could she do? Ian might not like Nick ogling her, but Nick was only doing it to egg him on. And, once he got over his juvenile need to needle Ian, it might be okay to have Nick on their side. He was good. Really good. And maybe removing herself from the room—removing the pawn, so to speak—would actually be a good thing. She hoped.
When Vivi re-entered the room in jeans and a lightweight sweater with her hair pulled back into a ponytail, both men were almost where she'd left them. Ian stood, leaning against the wall beside her luggage, arms and ankles crossed. Nick was in the same chair, a file open on his lap.
“Ready?” she asked, pulling on her boots. Ian shoved away from the wall, Nick swung his feet down and unfolded his lean six-foot-two frame from the chair. “Can you gather those up?” she added to Nick, with a nod to the files. “You have yours in the car, right?” she said to Ian. He nodded.
“I haven't eaten, Viv darling. The man who runs this place gets up at some god-awful hour and I didn't have a chance to sneak out before then,” Nick complained.
Vivi looked at Ian in silent question. He smiled and nodded. “Come on,” she said, ushering everyone out of her room. “I know just the place. I'll even let you order.”
* * *
“I hate that man. Hasn't he ever heard of a sense of humor?” Nick demanded as they exited Frank's Café.
“Oh, I don't know,” Vivi grinned at Ian. “He has his own charm.”
“Of a snake, darling. Although, I will grant he makes good coffee,” Nick added, taking a sip.
Vivi glanced at the two men walking with her as they crossed the street. They were so different in almost every way, from looks to approach, that the case was bound to stay interesting. She was pondering how Carly, Marcus, and Wyatt would take to Nick, and he to them, when she heard a familiar voice.
“Dr. DeMarco!”
Vivi stopped so fast that Nick, still grumbling about Frank's treatment of him, bumped into her shoulder.
“Daniel?” A sinking sensation hit her stomach as she looked at the young man in front of her. And it was heightened by Ian's muttered curse behind her. It didn't take a genius to know why Kathryn's son was standing before them.
“Hi?” Daniel said. Vivi had known him for so long that, especially when he looked at her the way he was looking at her now, chagrined but hopeful, she sometimes forgot he wasn't a boy anymore.
“Vivienne,” Ian warned, as if he could change what was coming.
“What are you doing here?” she asked the young man.
“Well, I,” Daniel shuffled his feet a little bit, and in the sunlight, Vivi noticed that he had golden streaks in his blond hair, just like his mother. “I have a break in my studies and my mom mentioned you were up here working on a case. I thought maybe I could, you know, help out.”
Vivi arched a brow.
“I mean, you know, if you need it or anything.”
She sighed and looked at Ian. After a moment, he threw up his hands. “Sure, why not.” His tone was not exactly pleased, but turning down the governor's son would not be a good political move.
“Daniel Westerbrook, Deputy Chief MacAllister and Agent Nick Larrimore. Nick, Ian, this is Daniel, one of my students.” She didn't point out his parentage; Daniel wasn't the kind of kid to ride his mother's coattails and his mother wasn't the kind of woman who let him. But, on that point, Vivi thought, the less said the better.
“Come on,” she said as she began walking again. “We're headed to the police station to meet with the other officers and review some files. I'll go over the physical evidence with you this afternoon and maybe we can go back to the lab and I can introduce you to Dr. Sameer Buckley, one of my former students, as well.”
A few minutes later they all stepped into the police station. Carly and Marcus were on their feet before the door closed behind them, eager to get going on the case.
“Wyatt?” Vivi asked.
“On patrol with one of our part-time officers,” Ian answered.
“How many do you have?” Daniel ventured.
“Five full-time officers and four part-timers,” Ian answered. “Though Vic Ballard, our Chief, is out of town for a couple of weeks,” he added.
Vivi let Ian make the introductions. Then he directed Carly and Marcus to clear out one of the upstairs rooms to work in. He introduced Vivi, Nick, and Daniel to Sharon, the police receptionist and dispatcher, before heading out to his Jeep to grab his files. When he returned, he handed the files to Sharon, asking her to make copies for everyone.
They left her to make the copies and trucked upstairs. Vivi figured Ian's decision to move them off the main floor was a strategic one. There was space on the first floor, but what was there was easily accessible to anyone who might wander in off the streets.
Before she entered the room upstairs, Ian held her back. They were alone in the hallway and she saw the doubt in his eyes.
“Any words of advice?” he asked.
She wanted to touch him, to reassure him and tell him he'd be fine. But the situation wasn't conducive to that. There was a room full of people waiting for him to tell them what to do. And at least one of them was waiting for him to mess up.
But despite not being able to reassure him the way she'd like to, Vivi knew he'd be okay. Ian would be good at this, of that she was certain.
“It's like planning a mission, Ian. That's all there is to it.” Not that she'd planned any military missions herself, but using common sense, she'd wager that they had a lot in common with murder investigations. Both required a thorough examination of the facts and the people involved; both required a plan to get from point A (where they were) to point B (finding and catching the killer), and both required a plan B and probably a plan C.
He seemed to think about what she said as if he'd never thought of it that way before, then gave a bob of his head and turned to enter the room.
“Carly, thanks for picking up the map,” he started, with a nod to the large map of the United States that now hung on a board at the front of the room. Sharon walked in at that moment and handed him the stacks of correlated pages.
“Perfect timing, Sharon. Thanks.” She nodded and left room to return to her post. Handing each person a complete set, Ian moved back to the front of the room.
“We all know the basics,” he said, taking two small red pins and pushing them into the area representing Windsor. “We have two bodies here that appear to be victims of the same killer.” He paused to look at the board, then turned back to the room.
“In the first stack of files are the nine women that Vivienne identified as being similar to our victims. Three are confirmed dead and six are missing. In the second stack,” Ian said, holding his up, “are the women I found. I'm not as experienced as Vivienne in this, so my parameters were probably wider than hers. I found four confirmed dead and eleven missing.
“Now, what I would like to do is figure out how many, if any, Vivienne and I found in common. Then we'll get all those women up on the map. We need to mark where they went missing from and, if there was a body, the dump site of that body. Once we have them all up on the board, we'll split up and take a look at what we have from a geographic perspective and then dig deeper into the cases themselves.”
Ian looked around the room and everyone nodded. His eyes landed on Vivi's, and she allowed herself a small smile for him.
“Once we have more information on the individual cases, we'll reconvene and talk about each—see if there are any we all agree canbe weeded out. When we have a final list, we can begin contacting divisions responsible and see if we can get some more extensive case files.”
“And what about the FBI? Aren't they usually called in on serial cases?” Marcus asked with a glance at Vivi. Ian also looked to her. This wasn't his strength; he had no experience in this area and wasn't hesitant to ask her to step in. She turned to Ian's colleagues.
“Yes, the FBI can handle serial killer cases and generally does if the killer has crossed state lines. If the killer is local, they will usually wait to be invited in. But we aren't there yet. We may get there, maybe even by the end of the day. But right now, we have two bodies and what we think might be a multiple killer, but we don't know and we don't have any more evidence to point toward it. That's what we need to do today. We need to look through these files and see if we're going in the right direction or if maybe this whole idea is way off base.”
“You don't think it is,” Carly pointed out.
“I don't,” Vivi conceded. “But I've been wrong before. Quite recently, actually. And while I don't discount intuition, I don't want to base an investigation on it.” She glanced at Ian, who was watching her, then gestured for him to take over again.
“Okay folks, let's get to work,” Ian directed.
Twenty minutes later, they had eighteen pins in place—the two women found in Windsor, plus sixteen more. Out of the sixteen, eight were women Ian and Vivi had both identified as potential victims—three were confirmed dead and five were missing. The remaining eight were ones that either Vivi or Ian identified, but not both.
Everyone sat back and studied the map. The pins were spread across the US. Two in Windsor, two each in Seattle, Chicago, New York, and Savannah, one each in Miami and LA, and three each in New Orleans and Boston.
“Well, they're all urban vacation spots,” Marcus offered.
“Except Windsor,” Carly pointed out.
“You're kind of a vacation spot but not urban, and it's a good point, Carly, that Windsor is definitely the odd duck out on this map,” Vivi said.
“So that tells us something, right?” Ian said.
“It tells us that this area probably means something to him. The other cities were probably cities of convenience,” Nick interjected.
“So he probably travels?” Carly asked.
“Yes, but most people do these days,” Vivi answered.
“But not usually with shackles or whatever he's using to restrain his victims,” Ian pointed out.
“Fair enough.” Vivi turned toward Ian as he pulled his eyes from the board. “Ian?” she said, a signal that he needed to tell his team what he wanted them to do next. He gave a sharp nod, then spoke.
“Okay, Carly and Marcus, dig into what we have in the files and see what you can find. See if you think we can, or should, eliminate any of these women. Wyatt, work with Nick on Jessica Akers and Rebecca Cole. Look into their phone records, last movements—see if you can find any connection between the two women or anything they shared that might put them both in the sights of this killer. Vivienne?”
“I think Daniel and I will head up to Albany to meet with Sam and go over the evidence again,” Vivi said.
Ian nodded and followed them down the stairs. “Can I talk to you a minute?” He gestured with his head toward his office. Vivi glanced at Daniel who was watching them much like his mother might.
“Daniel, why don't you head out to the car? You can drive. I'll be out in a minute,” she said.
He gave her a look of glee that told her he knew as much about his mother's matchmaking hopes as she did. She gave him a pointed look back and he had the good sense to turn around and leave. Following Ian into his office, Vivi perched on the edge of his desk. He picked up a pen and rolled it between his fingers. Then, setting it down, he tapped his fingers on his desk before looking up.
“Rob is booked tonight and for the next several nights. I assume Nick's going to need a place to stay. Why don't you stay with me?”
His expression was so intensely neutral that it told her more than any other look might. He had made light of his nightmares earlier, but she was under no delusions that he wasn't bothered by them. And, by asking her to stay with him, he was inviting her into his nighttime hell. It might not have happened last night, but the more often she stayed with him, the more likely it was that she would see him fall apart. Not an easy thing for a man like Ian to stomach.
And yet, he'd asked. It confirmed what she already knew, that their night together was more than a one-night stand. They'd seen too much of each other in those hours to think it was just about the sex. What it was, or where it was going, she didn't know, and she doubted Ian did either. But he seemed willing to see.
When she nodded, he let out a small breath, a tiny but unmistakable sign of relief.
“When can we expect you back?” he asked.
Vivi looked at the clock, it was close to lunchtime, though it hadn't been that long since they'd had their late breakfast at Frank's Café. “We'll be back around five. After we reconvene here, I'll head to The Tavern and pack up. Work for you?”
They agreed and she left to meet Daniel. He was waiting for her—hands in his pockets, grin on his face. In many ways, he was just like his mother.
“So, you and the Sheriff?”
“He's the Deputy Chief of Police, Daniel.”
“So, you and the Deputy?” He grinned wider and followed Vivi as she started walking down the street toward her car. She got about ten feet before remembering she'd told Daniel he should drive.
“My mother will be very happy to hear about this,” he said.
“What?”
She repeated herself. When Daniel shook his head, she turned around and started walking back toward Main Street.
“You're changing the subject, Dr. DeMarco.”
“I'm getting some ice cream before we go.” It wasn't lunch, but she needed something to distract Daniel.
“I'm lactose intolerant,” he said.
She gave him a look as she pushed the door open to What's The Scoop. “They have sorbet.”
“You're avoiding me,” he pointed out the obvious.
“I don't have to avoid you, Daniel. I'm your professor—and the only reason you're on this case, I might add. You're brilliant, cute, and I love you to death, but if you bug me about Ian, I'll sic Nick on you.”
“Oh, hello again.”
Vivi turned to see the young woman from the day before, emerging from the back with a smile. Leaving Daniel to ponder her good-natured attempt to get him to back off, she moved to the counter.
“Meghan, right?” Vivi asked.
The girl smiled and nodded. “Thanks for coming in again. I heard about that poor woman up on the Mayfield's land. Are you helping Mr. MacAllister with the case? Not that he couldn't handle it on his own,” she hastened to add, “but it would be nice if he had some help since he's always helping everyone else.”
“Yes, I'm working with him, so you may be seeing a bit more of me. I'm Vivi DeMarco, please call me Vivi,” she said as she shook Meghan's hand. “And while I'm sorry to be here for the reasons I am, I'm glad to have the chance to come back. Your wild blackberry ice cream is amazing,” Vivi added. Meghan smiled at the compliment.
“I'm working with Deputy Chief MacAllister too,” Daniel interjected, stepping forward and holding out his hand. Meghan eyed him with curious suspicion but held her hand out and shook his. “I'm Daniel Westerbrook. One of Dr. DeMarco's students.”
Meghan turned a questioning look to Vivi. “I have a few PhD students I take on. Daniel is one of them. He lives in the area, so he offered to come down and help,” Vivi explained.
The young woman's blue eyes swiveled back to Daniel. “Meghan Conners.”
He might not be as subtle as Ian or some other older man, but Vivi recognized the look in Daniel's eyes. And smiled.
“What can I get for you both?” Meghan asked.
Vivi ordered her wild blackberry while Daniel ordered chocolate sorbet, chatting with Meghan all the while. By the time they got back to Daniel's car, he'd dropped the subject of her and Ian altogether, just as she'd hoped, and they spent the time it took them to get to Albany in the more interesting pursuits of university gossip and a discussion of the possibilities of the case.
But the drive back from the labs was much less engaging. After spending three hours with Sam, they were mostly silent on the nearly forty-five minute drive. What Sam found, or didn't find, was weighing on their minds, and approaching Windsor and the police station made the whole situation more real again. They knew what they had and what they didn't. And while knowing—even knowing what they didn't have—was usually better than not knowing, it also had a way of taking away some of the hope. Hope that maybe they'd find something that could be used to stop a man who kidnapped, tortured, and killed young women.