Into the Night

  And Bowen...she’d seen the dark rage gathering in his eyes.

  “He thinks he knows me.” Bowen’s words were low, angry. “And that he knows you.”

  Her heart jerked in her chest. “I don’t understand.” Macey glanced down and saw that his hands had clenched.

  “He realizes we’re lovers, Mace.” His words were a deep, hard rumble. “He said that.”

  Her heart wasn’t jerking now. It was racing. “He’s trying to get into your head. He doesn’t know anything. No one does but us—”

  “He talked about Shaw. About how when I went into that alley, I intended to kill the bastard all along.” His words were softer, but still tight with anger, and she found herself leaning toward him so that she could catch each word. “He knows what I was doing. He thinks he understands me.” Bowen shook his head. “He doesn’t. I’m not going to play some game with your life on the line.”

  But Macey was considering exactly what he’d just said. Or rather...what the killer had told him.

  “Samantha was worried there could be a leak at the FBI. I think she’s right,” Bowen continued grimly. “I think the bastard has hacked into our files. Our psych reports. I think he’s using what he knows against us. Hell, access to the FBI files would also explain how he knows so much about these victims.”

  “But it wouldn’t explain how he knows about us.” She eased even closer to him. “And I’m betting you haven’t told any FBI shrink what you told me last night.” Because he’d bared his soul to her.

  He shook his head, and once more, she couldn’t help but think Bowen looked particularly dangerous—sinister—in that flashing light.

  “Then he found out another way.” A way that had her worried. “Bowen, I believe he’s still watching us.”

  She saw his shoulders stiffen. The perp had taken their pictures in North Carolina; of course he’d continue his stalking in Tennessee. But maybe, maybe he’d gone past just the picture-taking phase of things. “If he truly knows we’re lovers, if he knows what you said to me last night...” There could only be one explanation. “He has surveillance at our cabin. He’s literally seen us together. He’s heard our secrets.”

  “Son of a—” Bowen began.

  “Got them!” Peter announced as he hurried back into the room. “Here are the names of our staff members, though I assure you, we have thoroughly checked the background of every person here. We are a top-notch facility. You will not find any criminals working at our museum—”

  “That’s the thing, buddy.” Bowen took the files from him. “Sometimes, you just don’t know who people really are. Not until it’s too late.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  THEY FOUND THE video camera and the listening devices in their cabin. Three of them. One in the loft. One in the downstairs bedroom. One on the back porch.

  Bowen watched with fury as the crime scene team tagged and bagged each item. The bastard had been watching and listening. Every single moment. He’d known what Bowen was doing. Known just what steps they were taking with the investigation.

  He’d been watching. Everything.

  “Jonah said there wasn’t a long-range feed on the devices,” Tucker murmured as he came toward Bowen. “The guy had to be within a five-mile radius to get the feeds, and with these mountains—” he gestured around to the peaks that surrounded them “—Jonah said it would have been even harder to transmit. So he thinks the perp was close. Very close.”

  Bowen marched outside and studied the cabins on the street. Tucker followed him. They were in a rental subdivision, of sorts. A whole mountainside that was full of open cabins for tourists. “He was right here.”

  “He could still be here,” Tucker argued. “We need to search these cabins. Because my money says the guy isn’t leaving anything to chance. He didn’t want to be too far away and risk not getting his feeds. He wanted to know everything that you did. Everything that Macey did—”

  “We’re lovers.” The words came out hard but he knew he couldn’t cover this. Not now. “Macey and I. He knows.”

  The guy had been two steps ahead of them during this entire investigation, and Bowen was tired of that shit. You were hunting us all along, weren’t you? Well, the game is about to change.

  “I’ll tell Samantha,” Bowen continued gruffly. “Because to answer your question from before...she didn’t know.” No one did. He didn’t know what Macey was going to think about the team suddenly knowing their personal story. Would she withdraw from him? Fuck, he didn’t want that. The last thing he wanted was for Macey to pull away. He’d worked too hard for too long in order to get her close.

  “And the rest?” Tucker asked him. Tucker’s hands were loose at his sides and his face was expressionless. “The things the guy said about Arnold Shaw? You want to tell me about that?”

  Not particularly. But if there was a recording somewhere—and he feared there would be—Bowen knew he didn’t have a choice. “I wanted the bastard dead. I went into that alley knowing I’d shoot him.”

  “But you didn’t attack him with the gun first.” Tucker’s voice was low. “I read the police files, man. You went at him unarmed first.”

  Because I wanted to hurt him with my bare hands.

  “With my past, do you think I’m going to judge you?” Now anger broke free, cracking the mask of Tucker’s expression. “I want to help you. I want to have your back. But if you’re keeping secrets, if Macey is, I can’t do that. You both have to be honest with the team.”

  “There aren’t more secrets. The perp out there has found them all.”

  “You sure about that?” Tucker asked, tilting his head. “Because I think this guy gets off on secrets. I think he likes to find them, and exploit them. If your secret is dark enough, then he judges you...and he punishes you.” His eyes narrowed as he seemed to consider the situation. “Fuck. It could be part of his MO...”

  Bowen shook his head. “What are you talking about?”

  Tucker’s jaw had clenched. “The videos. The bugs. He’s learning his prey. Learning the secrets out there. What if...what if he did the same thing with Daniel Haddox? With Patrick Remus? He watched, he listened...and he learned their secrets, one by one, before he decided it was time for them to die.”

  “We didn’t find any surveillance equipment at Haddox’s place...”

  “Was the crime scene team even looking? We almost missed them here! They were so small, we had to do three sweeps to find them.” He nodded. “What if the crime team didn’t see them the first time? Or maybe the perp took them after he killed Daniel? He could have cleaned up after himself. We know that’s what he does—he’s so good at leaving a clean crime scene. He could have taken the devices with him.”

  Bowen considered the idea. “He had the bugs there, so he knew when Haddox killed Gale Collins.”

  “Yes...he was watching, listening. He’d found Haddox and he wanted to watch his prey.”

  Bowen hissed out a hard breath. “If that’s the case, then the guy would have needed to be watching Haddox for a while. He would have known who the guy truly was...and the woman the Doctor sliced and tortured... Our perp let Gale die.”

  Tucker’s hard gaze held his. “Yes.”

  Bowen’s mind was spinning. “We need a team to sweep the captain’s office again. This bastard...he could have his eyes everywhere.” But then Bowen shook his head. “Not everywhere. There’s no way he could have gotten a signal transmitted from Curtis Zale’s cabin. The place is too remote. I didn’t even have cell service up there. We needed the ranger’s radio to get backup.”

  “Then maybe he used the apartment Zale had in town. A team is there now.” Tucker pulled out his phone. “I’ll tell them what to search for. If we get a hit on a listening device at even one more location, then that’s another piece of the puzzle for us.”

  It meant their killer watched his prey fi
rst. Watched and learned.

  It also meant...

  He hasn’t just been calling me to jerk me around. The guy is after me. I could be his next target.

  * * *

  MACEY WAS BACK in the ME’s office. Goose bumps rose on her arms as she hurried into the lab. The place was cold as ice—always was. And the scent of antiseptic was strong. “Dr. McKinley!” Macey called out. She rounded the corner and saw him at his desk. He’d been leaning forward, his head slumped into his hands, but at her call, he straightened quickly.

  She went closer to him and could have sworn that over the heavy odor of antiseptic that clung to the air, she caught the scent of...

  “Have you been drinking?” Macey asked him quietly.

  Shamus McKinley swallowed, and then he rose to his feet. He was a bit unsteady, and his gaze darted to her, then away. “I think...I think Dr. Lopez will be arriving any moment. I’m just waiting for her.”

  Macey paced closer. She saw the open drawer of his desk and the scent of alcohol grew stronger. Her lips thinned. “I need you sharp on this case. We can’t afford screwups.”

  He raked his hand over his face. “My friend is on a slab in the back. He is right there—”

  Macey touched his shoulder. “You need to go home for the day, Dr. McKinley.”

  His lower lip trembled. “I need to help him. Some bastard put nails into his hands. Some bastard—”

  “I can’t have you working on this case when you’re compromised.” She kept her voice soft. Sympathy pushed through her. She could see his pain. “I need you to go home. Go home, grieve, take some time and just...get yourself together.”

  His eyes closed. “I’ve been sober for ten years. Ten long years...and now this.”

  She squeezed his shoulder. “Do you have a sponsor you can call?”

  He nodded once, grimly.

  “Then do it. I’ll stay here and meet Dr. Lopez. You come back tomorrow, and we’ll hit the ground running, okay? But...go home now.”

  “I’ve fucked up.”

  “You’re human,” she told him. “And you’re in pain. You need to get out of here.” And not stay with the dead.

  He nodded and Macey helped him collect his things. A few moments later, Shamus was gone, and she was left in the too cold and cavernous lab.

  Macey reached for a pair of gloves. She slid them on and then headed over to the storage lockers. She pulled in a deep, steadying breath, and then she opened the second locker. Captain Henry Harwell’s locker, according to the label. She pulled out the slab and then carefully unzipped the body bag.

  His skin was dark, bruising near the top of his forehead. She leaned in closer, examining that bruise, and then she turned his head, studying the wound at the back of his head. A rough circle. She measured the diameter of it...and then the diameter of a similar wound on the side of his head.

  A hammer. He used a hammer on your head. The same hammer he used to put those nails into you?

  She straightened her shoulders.

  And all of the lights went out in the lab. Macey was plunged into complete darkness.

  What in the hell?

  She paused a moment, thinking that a generator would kick back on. There had to be a generator in this place, right?

  She could hear the hum from the storage lockers, so they were still getting power. But...

  Macey fumbled in the dark. She zipped up the body bag. Pushed it back into the freezer so that it would stay safe and—

  Had she just heard the shuffle of a footstep?

  Macey straightened. “Is someone there?”

  Maybe the ME had come back.

  “Dr. McKinley?” Macey called. “Is that you? Do you know what happened to the lights?” A short. Could have just been a short. But her gut was tight, her muscles were battle ready and her instincts were screaming at her.

  There was no answer to her call. Macey pulled out her weapon, not about to take chances. Her eyes had adjusted a bit to the darkness and she could make out the exam tables. She could see the desk up ahead. She could also see...

  A man. A tall shadow. Blocking the door.

  Her eyes narrowed as she tried to see better. And her gun aimed dead at him. “Identify yourself!” Macey yelled at him.

  Instead of answering, he turned and ran out the doorway.

  Shit. Macey lunged forward, but her feet hit a box that was on the floor. She hit it hard and stumbled, but then she straightened and ran into the hallway.

  The lights flashed on right then. Bright, and she blinked, momentarily blinded. But then...then she saw the man in the hallway.

  Not some masked man. Not some killer.

  Dr. McKinley was at the end of that hallway and his desperate eyes were on her. He had his hand to his throat, and he was trying to stop the blood that pumped out so quickly from the deep wound in his neck. He tried to call out to her, but no sound broke from his lips.

  Macey raced to him even as her gaze swept the long hallway. There was no sign of the attacker. She knew he’d been there moments before. They were on the basement floor. Had he taken the elevator back up? Gone up the stairs?

  She fell to her knees beside Dr. McKinley. He was bleeding—so badly. She put her hands to his throat, trying to staunch the blood flow.

  The elevator dinged and the doors started to open.

  Macey grabbed for her gun. She’d just put it down when she reached for the ME. Her hands curled around it, and she brought it up in one fast arc, aiming right at those opening doors.

  Jonah stood there. Wearing a black shirt and dark jeans, and blinking nervously behind his glasses. “Macey?” Alarm flared in his eyes and he yanked out his own weapon as he took in the scene and saw the blood on her—and Dr. McKinley. “What happened?”

  “The perp was just here,” Macey snapped out. “He took the stairs or the elevator—”

  “Not the elevator,” Jonah immediately denied. “No one else was up there.” He yanked out his phone and called for backup even as Macey struggled to tend the ME’s wounds.

  She was still wearing the white exam gloves. Macey realized that fact dimly. His blood was smeared all over the gloves.

  “Keep him alive, Macey!” Jonah yelled, and then he was running for the stairs.

  Macey stared into Dr. McKinley’s pain-filled eyes. “Did you see the person who did this?”

  Tears leaked from his eyes. He managed a weak nod.

  “What did he look like?” Macey demanded. “Tell me, tell—”

  Mask... His lips formed the word but no sound emerged.

  Then his body slumped to the side. Macey grabbed him, holding tight. “No, you are not dying, do you hear me? I won’t lose someone else. I won’t!”

  * * *

  “WE NEED TO go door-to-door with these cabins,” Tucker said as he stared at the cops and local FBI agents they’d just assembled for the search of the mountainside rental community. “We think our perp may have a base nearby—he’s getting the signals from the devices he planted so he can’t be that far away. We need you to look—”

  Bowen’s phone rang. Frowning, he looked down at the scene, wondering if the perp was calling again for another of his taunts.

  But, no, Macey’s image was on his phone.

  Bowen turned away from Tucker and the crowd, and he hurried a few feet away. He put the phone to his ear. “Macey? What’s happening?”

  “He struck again.” Her voice was flat.

  Bowen stiffened. “What?”

  “I was at the ME’s lab. He went after Dr. McKinley. Cut his throat—”

  He was about to shatter the phone. “Is McKinley dead?”

  “No, I don’t know if the guy counted on me being here or what, but he didn’t finish.” Her voice was weary. “He didn’t get a chance to finish. McKinley was just rushed to the hospital. Jon
ah is here. He tried to find the guy, but it was too late. The perp is like a shadow, he can just vanish as soon as you try to shine light on him.”

  There was something about her voice. “Macey, are you okay?”

  “He was in the room with me, Bowen. The lights went out. I was in the lab, standing right over Harwell’s body. And I—I heard a footstep. I turned around and he was there. He was just...watching me.”

  The way he’s been watching for a while. “I’m on my way.”

  “No, you’re supposed to stay with Tucker! Look, I have to secure the scene here, okay? I’ll check the area. I’ll find out how the guy got access to what should have been a monitored lab, and then I have to brief Dr. Lopez when she arrives.” Her breath rushed over the line. “We need her now more than ever. And until we can figure out how the security failed at this place, we need to make sure a guard is here with her.”

  “Why did he go after McKinley?” Bowen demanded. “What could have sent him after the doctor?”

  “Maybe we’ll find out soon.” Her voice still had that weary tone. “After all, he likes to call you after his kills, doesn’t he? Update you. Share his story with you.”

  Share his story with you. “Because in his mind, I understand.”

  “Use that, Bowen. When he calls, use it.”

  He heard a voice in the background, and then Macey said, “I have to go. Jonah needs me. Watch your back, got it, Bowen?”

  He was still holding the phone far too tightly. “And you watch yours, Macey.” He cleared his throat. “I need you to make sure that Dr. McKinley’s office is swept for listening devices. For video cameras.”

  There was a stark pause. “You found them at the cabin.”

  Yes. “You were right. He was watching us. And Tucker and I...we think he may have been watching the other victims, too.”

  “I’ll check Dr. McKinley’s lab and work space.” Her voice was softer.

  The call ended and he stood there a moment. He fucking wanted to be with Macey right then. Wanted to make sure she was all right.