gotten a bit fat for his tastes, but there was still a loveliness to her that called out to him. She seemed so perfect from the outside. Smart.
Elegant. Lovely. Of course, underneath it all she was just like the rest of them. Just like his mother and his dearly departed wife. Women
were whores. They couldn’t help themselves. If you offered them a
cock, they took it.
And if Special Agent Kincaid and that idiot Briggs thought they
were the only ones she was fucking, they were fooling themselves.
She had obviously been with that obnoxious SEAL and perhaps the
deputy as well. The deputy had a mouth on him. He would love to
shut that mouth, but it would have to wait.
Need clawed at his belly as his rabbit ducked away. Briggs tried
getting close to her again, but she shook her head.
“I need some air, Cam.” She slipped outside.
“Give her a little time.” Kincaid stopped his former partner with a
firm hand on his shoulder. “We know she’s not going anywhere.”
“Yeah, she made that clear.”
A very large man with scars covering some of his rough face
walked in the door carrying two large bags with handles. “Food,
anyone?”
Ah, the luncheon. It was coming from some bar. Yes, that would
likely be lovely. He forced himself to smile and join in the general
drivel about how good a burger would taste.
He needed something more than a piece of meat. His hunger was
growing, and he was going to make a mistake if he didn’t do
something about that. The last five years he’d been very careful,
culling only what he needed to get by. He’d performed his rituals, but
in a truncated way that never seemed to feed his beast. He would have
to do it here, too. His rituals required time and space, neither of which
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he had, though a plan was forming in his brain. He’d listened in on
the ants and their talk. He knew there was at least one private home
that wouldn’t be occupied for a while. Something about aliens and
taking cover. Once he knew where that space was, he could start
planning.
But for tonight, a quick fix would have to do.
“Kincaid, Briggs!” The small-town sheriff barked like he had
something important to say. The man stood in his office doorway with
a ferocious frown on his face. “Seriously? I thought you were going to
use my office to talk to her.”
Kincaid had the decency to flush, but Briggs was right back to
grinning. “Words were said.”
“Yeah, I can imagine what was said. Hope, we’re going to need
some Lysol,” the sheriff yelled. “And you, Briggs—get in here, and
we’re going to have a serious lecture on respecting your new boss’s
office. Why don’t you step in, too, Kincaid. I have a couple of things
we can go over.”
He didn’t like the way that sounded. The last thing he wanted was
that pesky sheriff nosing in where he didn’t belong.
He needed a distraction. Perhaps he could serve his needs in
multiple ways. He could distract the sheriff, feed his need, and put a
little fear into his rabbit.
All he needed was a few moments alone with a lovely lady. He
had his pick in this town.
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Chapter Twelve
Cam settled into the seat beside Laura and slid his hand around
the back of her chair. She was tense, her shoulders set in a way that
made him want to get behind her and rub until she relaxed. He wanted
to take her home and coddle her until the tightness around her eyes
softened and she let him hold her. He and Rafe could take turns.
“Don’t cause more scandal than you already have, Cam,” Laura
murmured low as she moved his hand away from hers. “I can have
you thrown out of here.”
He frowned. “No one seemed very scandalized.”
Cam wasn’t upset. Let them all know. If he could, he would have
broadcast the whole thing so there was absolutely no question to
whom she belonged. He would have made damn sure that fucker
Wolf Meyer had a front row seat. Why was he still here? He was
hanging around the sheriff’s department when he didn’t have a real
place here. The ex-SEAL still looked at Laura like something he
needed to protect. Bastard. And Cam hadn’t missed the way all of the feds looked at her. She was a gorgeous woman, but did they all have
to look at her like she was the second coming of Marilyn Monroe?
They needed to get their own superintelligent, funny, blonde
bombshells. This one was his. And Rafe’s. He and Rafe had things to
work out, but Cam wasn’t going to fight him. It hurt Laura, and damn
it, he liked having Rafe around.
She slid a glance his way. “The boys from Bliss might not care,
but I assure you, everyone from DC was shocked at what happened.”
Was she worried about that? Cam didn’t give a shit what any of
them thought. He’d never fit in with them. He’d always been that
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weird mix of nerd, country boy, and aggressive asshole that no one
had liked in the Bureau. No one except Laura and Rafe. “Well, they
don’t count. The guys from Bliss were just pissed that I hadn’t
cleaned up. I received very explicit instructions on how to have sex in
public places. The sheriff has a pamphlet. I’ve been assured that if I
don’t follow the rules, he’ll shove me in a cell. There’s only two, you
know. He told me what happened the last time he put Rachel and Max
Harper in jail.”
There it was. That smile that made his heart skip a beat. Laura’s
smile lit up his whole fucking world. “Yeah, that particular incident
had the gossips going for a day or two. Rachel has a problem with
jaywalking. And being very mouthy. Nate was in a bad mood at the
time. Max sacrificed himself to go to jail with her. He threw a punch
at Nate. Needless to say, they had fun while they waited for Rye to
post bail. It was very late, and it was their date night. They didn’t let the little fact that they were in jail stop them.”
Now see, that was information he was interested in. There were a
couple of trios in this town, and Cam really wanted to know how they
worked. “They have date nights?”
Laura nodded. “She goes out with each one at least once a week. I
believe Callie, Nate, and Zane do it, too. I can imagine it’s a good
way to keep the relationships intimate. Conversely, I know the boys
have boys’ nights out.”
The door to the interrogation room opened, and Brad walked in,
followed by Rafe. Rafe’s face was set in dark lines. Cam knew he
wasn’t happy to be on the other side of the table, but for now, it was
their best choice. They needed to know what was going on from the
inside. Joe and Edward followed. The all looked grim and gray, file
folders in hand.
Cam remembered what this felt like. There was a certain
adrenaline that pumped through any agent’s veins before an
interview. Even if the agent knew the person in front of him wasn’t
who he was looking for, there was a
certain amount of power that
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came from being on the right side of the table. Cam definitely felt
vulnerable.
Laura’s spine straightened. Cam suddenly wished he already had
the badge and gun Nate Wright had promised him. There was
paperwork to be done even in a small town. This wasn’t his dream
job. Far from it. Cam wasn’t sure he had a dream job. He wanted
Laura. That would be enough. If he could marry her and provide for
her and find some time on the side to write his code, he would be
happy. Still, he’d feel safer when he could legally kill someone again.
It would make defending Laura so much easier.
If only she would let him defend her now.
Joe sat down. He was in great shape for his age. Rapidly
approaching fifty, the special agent in charge looked years younger.
He smiled at Laura as he opened his folder. “I am so sorry to have to
go over all of this again, Laura. I know it’s an old wound for you.”
“I don’t know about that. It feels pretty fresh today.” She clasped
her hands together.
“Let’s get right to it.” Brad sounded unctuous and self-important.
He’d changed his shirt and put on a new tie, but he couldn’t hide the
way his nose bulged. Rafe hadn’t broken it. That was a bit
disappointing. Brad was in the middle seat, the driver’s seat, and he
seemed to utterly relish it.
Brad drummed his fingers along the top of the table. “So, we’ve
gone over the facts of the case. You became involved in the case
roughly a year after it had been established that there was a serial
killer working the DC area.”
Laura took a deep breath and plunged in. “Yes. It was spring
roughly six years ago. I moved from another unit. I had been a special
agent for four years before that.”
Brad huffed a little. “That’s young to join the BAU.”
Laura shrugged. She didn’t mention the amazing work she’d done
in the Crisis Negotiation Unit. She didn’t talk about how she’d
graduated at the top of her class from Harvard where she’d put herself
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through school. She merely shrugged. Cam wanted to shove her
exemplary record in Brad’s face. She hadn’t gotten into the BAU on
her looks.
Brad moved on. “So, you came into the unit as a special agent,
and roughly a year later, you turned in a profile of the killer known as the Marquis de Sade. Did you realize at the time that you turned in the
profile that Senior Special Agent Edward Lock was the unit’s senior
analyst?”
What the hell was that supposed to mean? Everyone knew that.
Cam sat forward. This wasn’t going the way he’d thought it would.
He caught Rafe’s glance, but Rafe seemed as confused as Cam.
“Yes,” Laura replied. There was a little flustered pause in her
voice. “I was aware of that.”
Brad smirked as though he’d caught her in something. “Who
actually asked you to turn in a profile?”
Laura tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “Um, no one,
but I thought it was important. I thought I had a very fresh look on the case. I have degrees in psychology and criminal justice. I knew what I
was doing.”
“But no one actually asked you to turn in a profile?” Brad asked.
Rafe sat forward. “Joe told the whole team that any information
we gathered on the case would be welcome. He wanted everyone’s
thoughts. It wasn’t out of line for anyone to work up a profile. We’re
all trained.”
Joe nodded. “Yes. I like to keep the lines of communication open.
I think it’s important for any team. I worked that way then, and I still work that way today.”
Edward adjusted the glasses he always toyed with when
interrogating a subject. He put them back on and stared at Laura like a
bug he’d pinned down for study.
Cam started to get a very bad feeling about the way this was going
to go. “What does this have to do with anything?”
Brad held up a hand. “Mr. Briggs, you are here out of courtesy. If
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you can’t stay out of this interview, I am going to ask you to leave.”
Cam started to get out his chair. “I’d like to see you try to get rid
of me.”
Joe shook his head. “Cam, please. I know this is hard, but Special
Agent Conrad has reasons for asking the questions he is asking. We
spent time deciding on these questions. We all agreed to them. We’re
in a bind here. We haven’t had a break in this case in years. We need
a fresh approach.”
Laura put a hand over his, and he reluctantly sat down. His heart
rate was creeping up along with the need to kick a little ass. He
looked back at the large two-way mirror on the opposite side of the
room. There would be a whole bunch of people watching this, and
one of them would be his new boss, Sheriff Nate Wright. It probably
wouldn’t do Cam a bit of good to start his new job by punching his
former coworkers in the face. He needed this job. Cam needed to fit
into Laura’s world.
He allowed himself to relax back in his chair as Brad pelted her
with questions about how she became involved with the case. Laura
answered each one in short, professional terms. She explained why
she’d written her profile. She talked about how she’d collected her
data. In short, she told the asshole that she’d done her job.
“How long had you known Jana Evans?” Brad asked, flipping
through his large folder.
A long sigh came out of Laura’s mouth. “I met Jana Evans our
freshman year of college. She was studying journalism. We ended up
rooming together for a couple of years. After we graduated, she
moved to New York, but I moved out to DC when I joined the BAU.
She got a job at a TV station in DC about three years later, and we got
back in touch.”
Brad smirked as he asked his next question. “Is that the time you
started to feed her confidential information?”
“What the hell?” Rafe got to the outburst before Cam could. “Joe,
what is this? I was told we were asking former Special Agent Rosen
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about her ideas on who the Marquis de Sade is.”
Joe’s left eyebrow rose. Sometimes it was easy to forget he wasn’t
just one of the guys. “You are also here on my sufferance, Special
Agent Kincaid. If we hadn’t been friends for many years, I would
have kicked you off this case the minute I figured out you were
sleeping with a witness.”
Rafe opened his mouth to argue, but Laura charged in. “In Rafe’s
defense, I wasn’t a witness when I started sleeping with him.”
“And Briggs?” Brad practically sneered.
“Well, it was the same night,” Laura said brazenly. “So no, I
hadn’t met the Marquis de Sade at that moment. I was just a
coworker. It was probably not the most professional thing I could
have done, but it had nothing at all to do with the case.”
“You better change your line of questioning,”
Cam said through
clenched teeth. He wasn’t about to sit here and let them insult her.
“Or we could stop this entirely,” Rafe interjected. “Perhaps we
should. A lawyer might be helpful.”
Cam didn’t disagree at all. It sounded like a perfect idea. Laura
didn’t need a lawyer for anything criminal, but a lawyer could fuck
with these pricks in a way neither he nor Rafe could.
“I’m not getting a lawyer,” Laura said with a resigned huff.
“You will if I call one,” Cam shot back. He hated fighting with
her, but he couldn’t let her refuse good counsel.
“Just get on with it,” Laura said.
Brad’s shoulders moved up and down in a negligent shrug, as
though he didn’t really care, and Cam believed it. “Fine then. If your
cavemen are done, I’ll move on. In your original report, you talked
about a phrase the man who abducted you used. Do you recall what
he said to you?”
Laura’s eyes took on a haunted, vacant look. She seemed to go
somewhere deep inside herself. “He liked to talk. He talked to me for
hours. I don’t remember a lot of it, but I remembered that one phrase.
He told me that the only way to a woman’s heart was the path of
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torment. He said he knew of no other way so sure.”
Cam had looked it up. The real Marquis de Sade had written it.
He’d had a lot to say, most of it garbage in Cam’s mind. The Marquis
had believed that all moral principals were fancies, not anything
concrete or real.
“That’s a bit specific,” Brad said. “Are you sure that’s what he
said?”
Now Laura was the one staring through Brad. “Well, a girl rarely
forgets what’s been said just before a man in a plague doctor’s mask
whips her, cuts her, and shoves a knife through her gut multiple times.
I was tied down at the time, and he’d whipped me viciously. I hate to
admit it, but he did have my attention.”
Cam felt his gut twist. His brain tended to go to a black place
when he thought about what had happened to her. When he read it on
paper, it was bad enough. When he heard it coming out of her mouth
in that dead monotone she employed whenever the subject came up, it
was devastating. She’d been taken and brutalized. She’d been tortured