“Your father said you were responsible for those crimes.” Josh delivered this news quietly.
Kurt’s jaw dropped. “What?”
“Do you know Casey Quinn?” Tucker asked. It was an old technique—keep firing at the suspect, keep him off guard. If they both went in with questions, the guy would be confused. And he might slip up.
“Casey—the reporter? Yeah, yeah, I know her. I talked to her a few times. She’s not like the others—she wanted to tell my side and—” He stopped. “She was taken. I—I saw that on the news.”
“Casey stabbed the man who abducted her.” Tucker pointed to the guy’s arm. “Can’t help but notice that ragged cut you’ve got there.”
“I cut myself trying to untangle stupid fishing wire!” Those dark spots of color on Kurt’s cheeks darkened. “I’m not the killer! I didn’t hurt those women! I haven’t hurt anyone!” Then he gave a ragged laugh. “Though I wanted to hurt someone... I wanted to kill my old man. I wanted to wipe him off the face of the earth. I didn’t. Hayden stopped me. Said I was better than my father...” Again, that ragged laughter came. “If only he knew...”
Josh didn’t look away from the man before him. “Knew what—exactly?”
Kurt swallowed. His hands rose and curled around the bars. “I want out of here.”
“What is it that you wish Hayden Black knew?” Tucker’s gaze was fixed on the prisoner.
“Don’t I get a lawyer or something?” Kurt’s confusion that he’d suffered after waking was vanishing. “I want a lawyer. I want out of here. And I don’t care what kind of BS story my crazy father is telling you—I didn’t hurt those women. I wouldn’t do that. I’m not him.”
Tucker took a step back from the bars. “We’ll get you that lawyer.” He jerked his head toward Josh. “Let’s go.” He turned on his heel, marching away.
“I wouldn’t do that!” Kurt yelled after him.
Josh stared at the prisoner a moment longer, then he turned and followed his friend out of the holding area. As soon as they were clear, Tucker stopped. He stared straight ahead.
“Uh, buddy?” Josh gazed at him with worry. “You okay?”
Tucker glanced back at him. “I want him to be telling the truth.”
Josh wasn’t so sure the guy was telling the truth, though, and—
“I want it for personal reasons. I want it because—damn, just because you have a killer in the family, it doesn’t mean you’re screwed to hell and back, too, right? We can be different.” He blew out a hard breath and shook his head. “I’m losing my perspective on this case. This one was supposed to be my proving ground, and I’m letting my own past blind me.”
“Why’d the father point the finger at him?” Josh demanded. “Why shove the guy down our throats? Because nothing I know about Theodore Anderson indicates the guy is the kind, concerned citizen type.”
“No, he isn’t concerned. He was all too ready to throw his son under the bus.”
“Considering that Kurt had to be persuaded by the sheriff not to kill his father, I’m guessing it’s clear their relationship is shot to hell and back. So maybe the father had decided to get a little last-minute revenge by trying to take his son’s freedom away.”
“We need evidence.” Tucker’s chin notched up. “You ready to dive?”
“Always.”
They filed out of the hallway and headed back to the sheriff’s office. Casey was in there, sitting across from Hayden. When Josh opened the door to the office, she immediately jumped to her feet and came toward him.
Why did that make him feel good? No, she made him feel good.
And that could be dangerous. Be careful with her. Josh knew he had to tread very, very carefully. “The guy wants a lawyer,” he said, making sure his voice was flat. “Kurt isn’t going to talk anymore. He’s done. And I’m heading out with my team for the dives.” He knew he’d be diving for most of the day, and he hated to leave Casey on her own. He’d tried to convince her to stay at the penthouse. Local FBI agents would have been there to protect her in his absence but...
She’d been adamant. She wasn’t going to hide, not anymore. His promised twenty-four hours weren’t even up. But he couldn’t force her back into protection. At least, not yet he couldn’t.
“There have been no missing persons cases filed lately,” Hayden said as he rose from his chair. “And the perp we’re after—he always calls to tell us when he has a victim. The guy acts like it is some kind of game. Can we find him before the victim dies? That’s his taunt.”
Casey flinched. “Only the game didn’t work out the way he expected last time.”
No, it hadn’t.
“If he picked another victim with no close ties, then it’s possible her disappearance just hasn’t been reported.” Josh couldn’t overlook that possibility. “So I’ll dive down to every spot on that boat’s navigation record. If a victim is there, I’ll find her.” His gaze slid back to Casey. Before he left, he needed to know that she was safe. He needed to know—
There was as sharp knock at the door behind him. He glanced back and saw Deputy Finn Patrick open the door. Finn’s face showed his worry. “Sheriff Black, the reporters are out front again. They got tipped off that we may have a suspect in custody.”
“And the circus never ends,” Hayden muttered. “Thanks, Finn, I’ll handle them.”
But Finn didn’t leave. His stare shifted to Casey. “Guy out there...said he’s her producer. He’s demanding to see Ms. Quinn.”
“He can demand all he wants,” Hayden began, “I don’t—”
“I’ll handle him.” Her voice was soft. Her stare was certain. “My producer, my job. I’ve got this.” She started to walk toward Finn, but Josh stepped into her path.
His hand curled around her shoulder. “Are you sure about this?” Sure that she wanted to give up federal protection? Sure that she wanted to walk back into the fire?
“I know Tom. By now, he’ll have bodyguards for me. I’ll be protected. And you...you and the other agents have other things to do. You can’t watch me forever.”
But he wanted to.
His hand fell away.
There was so much more he wanted to say to Casey, but with everyone else watching them...he just let her go. Josh watched as she walked away.
“It’s hard when emotions get involved,” Hayden said quietly, and Josh wondered just how much he’d already given away. He looked back at the sheriff, but Hayden wasn’t staring at him. He was looking at a framed photo on his desk. “I’m glad Jill is out of town right now. Going through all of this again—seeing Kurt brought in for questions relating to all these murders—it would just stir up the pain from her past again.” His jaw locked. “And I can’t stand to see Jill’s pain.”
Jill West worked on the FBI’s Child Abduction Rapid Deployment Team—and Josh knew she’d taken that job because of her own painful past. Jill was currently training a new crop of agents up in Quantico, and, like Hayden, he thought that might be for the best.
“When emotions are involved,” Hayden continued and his gaze lifted from the photo to lock on Josh. “You can lose perspective and that loss can lead to deadly consequences.”
Josh didn’t intend to lose anything. “I need to check in with my team. We’ve got a lot of work to do on the water.”
Tucker followed him out, and they stopped near the check-in desk to go over their files. He caught a glimpse of Casey—she’d paused right before the glass doors that would take her out of the station.
She looked back at him. She gave him a smile that made his chest ache, then she opened the door and stepped outside. He saw Tom’s face as the guy rushed toward her. Katrina was there. A half-dozen other reporters closed in on Casey.
“We could have forced her to stay in custody,” Tucker said, his voice careful.
/> If only. But things were more complex than they seemed. “I got word from the FBI brass that we had to let her go.” He hadn’t told Casey about that, not yet. “Seems her producer has some powerful friends, and he didn’t like the way we were ‘imprisoning’ his reporter.”
Tucker swore.
“Yeah, exactly how I feel. Tom promised she’d have the best bodyguards on her while she was still down here. And I was told that unless we wanted a media relations nightmare on our hands, then Casey got to walk.”
And she’d just walked away.
His fingers drummed on the countertop. He couldn’t see her any longer.
“Things between you two...they got personal, didn’t they?”
Did everyone notice? “She was a victim.” He straightened his shoulders. Finn was nearby, watching and listening too closely. “And I’m the guy who needs to dive into the water. You coming on the boat?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be right with you.”
Time to get back to business.
Tom had better hold up his end of the deal. He’d better keep those guards on Casey. If he didn’t...
If anything happens to Casey, I’ll destroy him.
* * *
THE QUESTIONS WERE battering at her, nonstop. She’d been in a crowd of reporters, just like this one—too many times. Casey knew better than to try answering any of the barrage of questions being fired at her. She would handle the press her way, in her time. And right then...they weren’t getting any comments from her.
Tom grabbed her hand and steered her toward the SUV that waited. It was a massive beast of a vehicle. She jumped into the back, and he followed behind her. Katrina jumped in the front passenger seat.
As soon as Casey got inside the vehicle, she saw that two men were already waiting there. A quiet, intense-looking African American male sat to the left. The driver—a redheaded guy—immediately took off as soon as they were all in the vehicle.
“Hello,” Casey said to the man in the back with her.
He inclined his head. “Ms. Quinn.”
“Just call me—”
“Didn’t expect the full crowd to be there,” Tom grumbled as he shoved in next to her. “Hard for us to get any footage when they were blocking the place. No matter, we’ll come back and do the shots then. For now, we’ll go to the beach—maybe down to the dock—and get some scene recordings there. You can tell your story while the waves pound behind you. Very moving...especially considering the other women were found in the gulf.”
“Do you mean to be an unsympathetic jerk?”
He blinked. “What?”
“Do you mean to come across that way...or do you just not even hear the words coming out of your mouth?”
He blinked again.
There was a smothered laugh from the driver.
Tom’s eyes narrowed. “Did you seriously just speak to your boss that way?”
“Yes, I did. And did you seriously just act as if those victims were props to use in your video footage?”
His lips compressed.
“Ah...Casey, it’s good to have you back,” Katrina said.
Casey’s gaze slid to her. Katrina had turned to give her a weak smile.
“Have you met your protection? That’s Andrew to your left.”
“Just call me Drew,” the guy rumbled.
“And you call me Casey.”
Katrina pointed to the driver. “That’s Shamus. They both came very highly recommended.”
“We’ll be your shadows,” Drew told her. “You won’t have to worry about a thing. We guarantee your safety.”
If Kurt Anderson was the killer, then she didn’t have to worry—he was locked up. Everyone would be safe again. But if he wasn’t the perp...
Then the man who wants me dead is still out there.
* * *
“SO...DO YOU think he was dumping bodies out there?” Chaz Fontel shook his head. A tribal tattoo circled his upper arm and his long hair brushed across the collar of his shirt. “I can’t believe that guy—I mean, I felt sorry for him, you know?”
Chaz was the owner of the boat rental shop, and he was also the guy who seemed more than eager to cooperate with the Feds. He’d already provided them with all the information they needed to go back and retrace all the stops that Kurt Anderson had made on his trips.
And the guy had made a lot of trips. But none of the trips taken from the boat he’d used matched up with the spots where they’d found their other three victims.
Did that mean Kurt was innocent? Or that he’d just used another vessel when he disposed of the bodies? Josh knew Tucker already had agents canvasing the other boat rental shops in the area, just in case Kurt had used another vessel. But he might not have rented another boat. Half the people in that town owned boats. He could have borrowed one, could have taken—
“Did Kurt Anderson ever say anything to you about his father’s crimes?” Tucker asked.
Chaz gave a low whistle. “No, man, and it’s not like I’d ask, you know? Talk about a painful subject. I just rented him the boat. That’s it.”
A dark SUV pulled up near the dock. Josh’s gaze narrowed as the doors to that vehicle opened.
Katrina. Tom.
Casey...
He stiffened.
He saw the two guys who exited the vehicle, too, and instantly pegged them as the protection that she’d been promised.
“Oh, man, is that Casey Quinn?” Chaz asked, excitement in his tone. “I love her.”
Josh’s gaze cut back to him, but Chaz wasn’t paying him—or Tucker—any attention. His focus was entirely on Casey.
“Heard about what happened to her.” Chaz’s hands fisted. “So glad she’s okay. I watch her all the time.”
“Do you now...” Josh muttered. Not a question.
“Maybe she’ll want to interview me.” Chaz’s shoulders straightened. “I mean, I’m the one who rented Kurt the boat. Bet she’ll want to talk to me. I bet—”
Josh stepped in front of the guy, blocking his view of Casey. “We’re talking to you right now.”
“Uh, yeah. Right. He, uh, never mentioned his old man. Never mentioned anything. Just came on board with his gear—his bags and the coolers and he left. Figured the guy just wanted some time by himself. Water can heal the soul, you know? That’s what the ocean does.”
It healed—or the ocean became a grave for the dead.
Josh cast one last look over at Casey. He found her staring back at him.
* * *
“YOUR AGENT IS going out on the water?” Katrina sidled closer to Casey and kept her voice low. “What is he trying to find out there?”
Casey tried to drag her eyes off Josh. Why was she reacting this way to him? “USERT is his primary job with the FBI. You know that.”
“Yeah, but I mean...who is he going to rescue down there? Is another victim in the water?”
“USERT stands for Underwater Search and Evidence Response Team. He’s searching.” For clues. For evidence.
And, yes, for a body. But she really hoped he didn’t find one.
Tom was talking to the two men who were her new guards.
“If he’s USERT, then why did he spend so much time looking after you?” Katrina wanted to know. “Weren’t there other agents—”
“They didn’t need him in the water then. So he thought it would be good for me to have an agent...with me.”
“Hmm.”
What was that supposed to mean?
Katrina smiled at her. “I think he likes you.”
I think I like him. “He was doing his job. With this many agents in the area, everyone is assigned a task. I was his task.”
Katrina lifted a brow. “You really think you were just a task to
him?”
She hoped that she’d been more but...
He was climbing onto a boat. Pulling tanks on after him. She knew he’d be heading out for his dive. When he got back, would he come and find her?
Should she find him?
“I can keep a secret, you know,” Katrina added. Her voice had become even softer. “You...you fell for the agent, didn’t you? I mean, I’ve worked with you a long time, and I’ve never seen you look at anyone the way you’re looking at him right now.”
“We just met.” She tried to brush Katrina’s words aside even though she knew she’d given too much away. The way you’re looking at him right now. “He was doing his job. And I was barely holding things together.”
“Let’s get her wired up!” Tom called out.
Tom, ready for business. She needed to get ready, too. This was her job, after all.
Casey squared her shoulders. The waves crashed behind her.
* * *
HE LEFT THE wet suit at his waist. Josh would finish getting it into position when they were closer to the first dive site. The boat shot away from the dock, and his gaze once more slid to Casey. He could barely see her now.
“You think we can trust her?” Tucker asked him. “Just how much did you share with her while they two of you were in that penthouse?”
Josh turned his head and met the other man’s gaze. “I trust her.”
“She’s a reporter, going live right now from the looks of things. If she reveals too much—”
“She won’t.”
“For both our sakes, I hope so.” Tucker wasn’t wearing a dive suit. Josh and his team were going down, but Tucker was staying on the boat. The water splashed around them as they flew across the waves.
“Do you think there’s another victim out there?” Josh asked Tucker.
His friend’s jaw hardened. “If there isn’t—” he rolled back his shoulders “—I’m afraid there will be one very, very soon.”
That was Josh’s fear, too.
They didn’t speak again, not until they were at the first dive site. Josh pulled his wet suit into position. He secured his mask and slid the tank on his back. He had his dive knife ready—the way he always did. He never went down without a dive knife strapped to his ankle. He’d once had to use his knife on a blacktip shark that had gotten too curious—and aggressive. He checked his BCD. The buoyancy control device was absolutely essential for diving. He put his mouthpiece in, then sat on the edge of the boat. Two of his team members were in position near him. Josh put his thumb and forefinger together in the Okay signal, and then he fell backward, tumbling into the water below.