Closer Than You Think

  ‘If she’s still alive, he’s torturing her,’ Adam countered.

  Deacon searched his cousin’s face, saw the flicker of desperation in his eyes. ‘I know,’ he said gently. ‘But until we have a solid lead, I’m not willing to risk her life or anyone else’s. Whoever took Corinne and Arianna has already killed three people in Miami while trying to kill Faith, and two more tonight – assuming the power tech and the locksmith are dead. He won’t hesitate to kill Corinne too. I put unmarked cars in front of Jeremy’s estate hours ago. We’ll know if he leaves. Then we can follow him, hopefully to Corinne.’

  Adam’s jaw was tight, but he nodded his head. ‘All right.’

  Deacon returned his attention to Faith. ‘The house itself may tell us what we need to know. Tanaka hasn’t finished processing it and Latent still has yards of surfaces to check for prints.’

  ‘What’s up with the house, Deacon?’ Bishop asked. ‘Other than being a perfect set for a horror film, of course. When we were there earlier tonight, she looked at it like it was alive.’

  ‘It terrifies her,’ Deacon agreed. ‘She said it’s bad memories, because she was at the house when she learned of her mother’s death, but I think there’s more to it than that. She said her mother died in a car accident, but the circumstances don’t seem proportionate with her reaction. Whenever I mention the house, she has a panic attack. My mother died in a car accident too. I remember the moment I was told, down to every detail. I don’t dread the location, though.’

  ‘But she was just a little girl at the time,’ Bishop said. ‘How old were you?’

  ‘Eighteen,’ he and Adam said simultaneously.

  ‘And you went off the straight-and-narrow when you found out,’ Adam reminded him.

  Deacon remembered the night. Remembered Adam sitting at his side, offering sympathy and strength. It didn’t make the cruel words his cousin had spoken a few hours earlier hurt any less, but it did remind Deacon that the man who’d said them had been his closest, most loyal friend. And it made him wonder again what had spurred the rage that Adam was struggling to control.

  ‘Maybe she is just dreading it because of her mother’s death,’ Deacon said. ‘But the house is the center of all of this. As hard as it will be for her, I think she needs to do the one thing that Combs – or whoever’s working with him – tried to prevent. She needs to go into the house.’

  ‘I have to agree,’ Bishop said reluctantly.

  Isenberg nodded. ‘Get her there tomorrow morning. Now, what about the scene at King’s College? Where the girls were abducted? What’s the status on that?’

  ‘It’s too dark to process it now,’ Bishop said. ‘It’s so heavily wooded that even with spotlights, we could miss something. There’s an access road that’s used by the maintenance department. It empties out onto West Sixth through a back gate. It wouldn’t have taken more than a few minutes for someone to grab both women, toss them in his van, then drive away unseen.’

  ‘You secured the scene?’ Isenberg asked.

  Bishop looked offended. ‘Of course. I requested all the campus security footage, including any cameras around the back gate. Unfortunately that gate is a hangout for students indulging in “extracurricular activities”. So the cameras always get tampered with. I did a walk-through to check for witnesses, but nobody was indulging tonight.’

  ‘Let’s meet CSU at King’s College at dawn to look around,’ Deacon said. ‘In the meantime, I’ll take Faith to her hotel, then I want another look through the house myself.’

  Cincinnati, Ohio, Tuesday 4 November, 1.50 A.M.

  There was a cruiser parked across the street, in front of Faith’s hotel. Not a good sign, he thought as he checked the view from his window. It could be a simple coincidence, but he didn’t believe in those any more than the police did.

  If the cops were watching her, well, that wasn’t good. If they were watching for her, that was even worse. If they just happened to be there for the free wi-fi in the lobby, only slightly better because any way he sliced it, a pair of cops was too much scrutiny for what he was planning.

  Not that he had much choice. He needed to silence her permanently, and at the first possible opportunity. It was only one cruiser. By the time they got their shit together, he’d be long gone.

  He took off his padded coat and ball cap and laid them on the unmade bed next to the golf bag he’d carried right past the hotel’s security cameras. The bag was nothing exceptional, just a plain black bag he’d bought from Goodwill.

  What was inside was a different story. He took out the golf clubs and carefully drew out the rifle he’d hidden among them. It wasn’t his, which made it even better.

  The nine mil he’d been using all this time wasn’t his either. He’d have to throw it into the river soon. He’d used it too many times in too many different places lately – and he’d left both slugs and casings behind. It was only a matter of time before police ballistics connected the dots.

  It could never be traced to him, but he wasn’t free after all this time because he took unnecessary chances. He was a careful man.

  He pulled a table in front of the window and set up his rifle. He’d learned from his mistakes. He’d missed her before, but he’d been caught off guard when he’d broken into her apartment. He hadn’t expected her to have a gun of her own. He would not miss again.

  Cincinnati, Ohio, Tuesday 4 November, 2.05 A.M.

  This cannot be possible. Face buried in her hands, Faith had said the words to herself over and over, but it didn’t change the facts. It was not only possible, it was true. ‘I am responsible.’

  ‘No, you’re not,’ Novak said, his voice low and warm and steady. He’d returned to the interview room a minute ago, shrugging into his leather coat before crouching next to her chair so that he could look up into her face. ‘Let me take you to your hotel. You need to sleep.’

  His eyes were so intense, so compelling, that she almost believed him. Too weary to argue, she allowed him to put her arms in the sleeves of her borrowed jacket as if she were a child. Carefully he pulled her hair free and rested his hand at the center of her back, holding her steady when she swayed.

  ‘I’m so tired,’ she whispered.

  ‘I know you are,’ he murmured back. ‘Things won’t necessarily look any better in the morning, but you’ll be better able to think them through.’

  He led her out into the night, his hand never leaving her back. When they were free of the building, she found herself wishing she had the right to lean on him. He was solid and had been kind, but she knew better than to depend on him for any more than that. Holding herself rigid, she stayed upright for a few more steps. Until his hand moved to her shoulder, gently urging her to lean on him.

  ‘It’s all right,’ he said softly. ‘You’ve had a long day.’

  She didn’t have the strength or the will to resist. Her head rested against him and she breathed deeply, the smell of cedar soothing her. She pretended for just a minute that she could do this any time she pleased. That she belonged to him. But she didn’t belong to him, and letting her guard down could only end badly. ‘You stored your coat in a cedar chest.’

  ‘My mother’s,’ he said. ‘Her coats always smelled of cedar because she’d put them in the chest between seasons.’

  He said it so wistfully. ‘You mother is gone?’ she asked, and he nodded.

  ‘When I was eighteen. We lost her and my stepfather the same night. Drunk driver.’

  Her shoulders stiffened. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Thanks. It was a long time ago, but I don’t think you ever get past missing your parents.’

  Swaying red Keds, bright white shoelaces dangling. She hated her mother, had hated her all these years, but she missed her. ‘I don’t suppose you do.’

  They reached his SUV and she wished they could walk a little more, if only to feel his arm around her. It had been such a long time since she’d been held.

  Novak helped her up into the seat, buckled her
in, then slid behind the wheel. ‘You need to get some food and some sleep.’

  ‘Both sound wonderful, but I don’t know where you can get food this time of night.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I do.’ Novak pulled the SUV into sparse traffic. ‘Are you a vegetarian?’

  ‘Not even remotely,’ she said.

  ‘Then I know a few all-night burger drive-thrus.’

  ‘That’s fine, but . . .’ She stopped herself. Don’t be rude, Faith. ‘A burger is perfectly fine.’

  ‘But what?’ he asked.

  ‘Well, earlier, when we left the hospital, I could have sworn I smelled Skyline chili in here.’

  His brows lifted. ‘You did. I took coneys to my brother and my uncle. I must admit you surprise me, Faith. I wouldn’t have expected you to be familiar with our local delicacies.’

  ‘I used to eat coneys for lunch when I was here in school.’ Cinnamon-spiced chili and cheese over hot dogs or spaghetti noodles, it was uniquely Cincinnati. ‘My uncle Jordan and I would sneak out at night for three-ways, because Gran would smell the onions in the four-way and we’d be busted.’ She laughed out loud, a little stunned that she could when she’d been crying a half-hour before. ‘Only in Cincinnati can you say that phrase in polite conversation.’

  Novak grinned. ‘Which phrase? “We’d be busted”? Or “smell the onions”?’

  Faith’s heart did a little flip. A grinning Agent Novak was a captivating sight and for a moment she let herself look her fill. ‘Gran said the name “three-way” was just vulgar.’

  ‘Seriously? She’d really get upset? It’s just food.’

  And delicious food it had been, Faith thought. And one of her happier memories. ‘Gran got upset about a lot of things. She was very strict, but Jordan would make sure I didn’t miss out too much. He’d sneak me to all the places Gran nixed on principle.’

  Novak gave her an odd look. ‘Like what?’

  ‘Rock concerts, rated R movies. Bars. Beer. Cigarettes.’

  He frowned. ‘How old were you?’

  ‘Fourteen, fifteen. Jordan shouldn’t have allowed me the freedom he did. I could have gotten into a lot of trouble. I’m lucky, actually. I drank . . . a lot then, and there is alcoholism in my family. I could have slid down that slippery slope, but I didn’t get too caught up in it.’

  ‘What kind of uncles do you have?’ he demanded.

  ‘Young ones. Jordan and Jeremy are only twelve years older than me. Jordan was only twenty-six at the time. More like an older brother than an uncle.’

  ‘Twenty-six is old enough to know better.’

  ‘I know that now. So does he. But back then he was reliving some of his own adolescence. He had cancer when he was seventeen. He lost a few years to chemo and recovery. I was just a little girl, but I remember how sick he was. So maybe he was feeling his oats, too.’

  Novak nodded reluctantly. ‘I did some dumb things when my mother and stepfather died. I was eighteen and should have known better. It sounds like you spent a lot of time with your grandmother and uncle back then.’

  ‘I lived with them during my sophomore and junior years of high school.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘My dad got sick and couldn’t take care of me for a while.’ Her father’s time in alcohol rehab had been hell on them both. ‘As soon as he’d recovered, he moved me back in with him and I finished high school in Savannah.’

  ‘Hell of a time to have to switch schools,’ Novak commented.

  ‘By then Dad had married Lily and was happy.’ She shrugged. ‘Now that I’m back, I’ll have to see if Cincinnati chili is as good as I remember it. I’ll get some at lunch tomorrow.’

  Novak took a sharp right into a Skyline parking lot. ‘Or now.’

  Faith’s eyes widened in delighted surprise. ‘They’re open now?’

  ‘Till three. This was where I’d hang out when I was in high school.’ He went through the drive-thru and ordered more food than she’d eat in a week, then pulled the SUV into a parking place and offered her the bag. ‘To memory lane.’

  She smiled at him. ‘Thank you, Agent Novak. This is lovely. I’m starving.’

  She dug into the bag and pulled out the three-way he’d gotten her. He waited until she’d taken her first bite. ‘Well?’ he asked.

  ‘The same,’ she pronounced. ‘It’s good to know that some things don’t change.’

  He methodically demolished almost everything else in the bag. He offered her the last coney, then turned in his seat to talk to her, all business.

  ‘You have a squad car sitting outside your hotel.’ He dug into one of the pockets of his coat and produced the pre-paid phone she’d purchased the day before. He handed it to her, followed by his business card. ‘Add my number into your contact list. If you see Combs, or even have the feeling you’re being followed, call 911 first, me second. Okay?’

  She studied his card, then looked up at him, confused. ‘This isn’t the number you gave Vega when I called her from the hospital,’ she said and thought she saw his cheeks flush.

  ‘It’s not.’ He hesitated. ‘That was Bishop’s number.’

  It took her a second, but then she understood. ‘You’re handing me off to Bishop?’ It stung, far more than it should have. Oh Faith. You’re an idiot. She’d taken a few kind words and some Skyline and blown them all out of proportion.

  ‘I was planning to earlier,’ he admitted quietly. ‘I probably still should. But I’m not.’

  She held her breath. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I changed my mind.’

  Cincinnati, Ohio, Tuesday 4 November, 2.45 A.M.

  I changed my mind. Deacon pulled his SUV behind the cruiser parked in front of Faith’s hotel, the four words he’d spoken still echoing through his mind. He wasn’t sure exactly why he’d told her that. He knew he shouldn’t have told her – or changed his mind.

  But she fascinated him – her courage, her fears. Her face. And that intriguing glimpse of cleavage he’d caught back in the little office in the hospital sure didn’t hurt either.

  Trouble was, she was still a witness. And he still had a job to do. He injected a businesslike brusqueness into his voice that felt like sandpaper in his throat. ‘Your security detail is already here.’ He started to get out of the SUV, but she leaned forward, turning on the map lights. Shit.

  ‘Why?’ she asked, studying his face. ‘And don’t pretend to misunderstand. And please do not hide behind that too-cool-to-care mask. I just want an honest answer. Why did you change your mind about handing me over to Detective Bishop?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said quietly.

  ‘Is it because you feel sorry for me?’

  ‘No.’ He calmed his voice, schooled his features. ‘I respect the risks you took in order to stand up for the victims back in Miami. I respect what you did for Arianna and Corinne tonight.’

  ‘Respect is all well and good, but your job isn’t to babysit me, Agent Novak.’

  Deacon, he wanted to growl. My name is Deacon. But he couldn’t say that. He’d led her on enough already. ‘I know my job. I’m not here to babysit you. I’m here to keep you safe.’

  She attempted a smile. ‘The officers you’ve assigned can do that.’

  No, I’ll keep you safe. It’s my job. He gritted his teeth, saying nothing.

  Her smile faltered but she pasted it back on. ‘Call me if you need any other information. If I see Combs or think he’s near, I’ll call 911, then you.’ She reached for the door handle, but he was faster, leaning over the console to grab her wrist.

  ‘Stop. Wait for me to come around and cover you.’

  ‘You’re right.’ Her shoulders sagged. ‘I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m sorry.’

  He knew she wasn’t sorry about leaving the SUV. He knew she was sorry that she’d read more into his changing his mind than she should have. Except that she shouldn’t be sorry, because she’d understood his words exactly the way he’d meant them.

  He knew he should
release her wrist, but he couldn’t make himself do so. Because the skin he was touching was soft, and her pulse raced against his fingertips. Shifting his grip, he stroked the inside of her wrist with his thumb. ‘I’m not sure what I feel right now, but it sure as hell isn’t pity.’ Her eyes flew up to meet his. ‘Is that honest enough for you?’

  He watched her cheeks grow redder than her hair. ‘Yes. For now.’

  He made himself let her go. ‘Not just for now. Until this case is closed. You’re a witness,’ he said, trying to be firm. ‘Anything more wouldn’t be ethical.’

  ‘No, I don’t suppose it would be.’ She held his gaze, hers suddenly challenging. Sexually aware and full of bold invitation. ‘Then again, I’m not exactly the poster child for ethics, am I?’

  For a moment he couldn’t breathe. He could only stare. And wish they were alone. Just the two of them. He’d find out if her mouth tasted as good as he hoped. He’d make her forget every terrible nightmare Combs had inflicted. After he caught the sonofabitch.

  That Combs was still out there wasn’t the cold bucket of water it should have been. That Faith would offer herself up as a poster child for bad choices was.

  It was as if she considered herself damaged goods, that he’d only want her because he shouldn’t have her. Because she wasn’t a wise choice. And he wondered who’d put that idea into her head.

  ‘I think you misunderstand me,’ he said. ‘What I meant was that there isn’t anything wrong with your ethics. But if and when we get together, it will be because I respect you and like you and want you, not because you represent some cheap thrill or forbidden fruit.’

  Her eyes flickered. ‘You can’t like me. You don’t even know me.’

  But he did like her. That was the problem. ‘I know enough. I’ll figure out the rest as I go,’ he said, then got out of the SUV before he did something stupid, like taking her up on her offer.

  Cincinnati, Ohio, Tuesday 4 November, 3.00 A.M.

  She’d finally returned. But she wasn’t alone.