Aftermath (22 page)

Amanda scrambled to pick up the mess at her feet, including Beth’s letter. Wedged it between her bills and junk mail. Then stood. A sharp pain bit into the heel of her right foot.

Definitely had some glass in it.

“You okay?” Robinson’s gaze was locked on her.

And she could feel the heat all the way to the probable foreign object embedded in her foot. She swallowed. “With?”

A soft, but sure smile played on his mouth. His gaze dipped to her lips. “I think I know where you stand there, A.J.” Robinson threw a wink in her direction. “I meant your foot. You were limping.”

Handsome devil could make her forget anything. Even the not-to-subtle presence of her best friend. “Maybe, but I can handle it.”

He grabbed two of the Starbucks cups and handed one to Amanda as they walked to the door. He held it as both women entered, McKenna preceding Amanda.

“Drink up. It’s gonna be a long day,” he murmured from behind her.
“Because you’re stuck with me.”

The whisper of his words caressed the sensitive crease of her neck. Compelled all of her—both young and old—to turn around and repeat their kiss. For a few moments of normalcy, in the chaotic mess their lives had become.

“Can you handle
that
?”

Right this second or forever? Because this man was the only thing that made any of this bearable. Made her want to fight the numbness for even the slightest second chance. She glanced back at him. “Can I claim a hardship?”

His eyes crinkled at the corners. He closed the door and flipped the lock. “You can try. The boss will probably deny it.”

McKenna stood at the counter, spreading out sheets of paper. The coffee mug had been cleaned up and Lilly was nowhere in sight. The TV was off.

Oh, man. Amanda was the worst almost sister-in-law ever. She’d not even thought about what Lilly must be feeling in all of this. And though the urge to search her out was strong, she checked it. Amanda would be the last person the other woman would want to see, even with a good start to their morning.

Which was too bad, considering the fact that they might’ve been really good friends, in another turn of events. At least, from the stories Robinson told about his sister, pre-accident, she assumed that might be the case.

“Jordan and I ransacked your apartment last night, Robinson.” McKenna flicked a strand of hair from her face. “The bulk of what we grabbed, for the three of you, is in the back of my car.”

“Thanks,” he said. “Notice anything suspicious?”

McKenna shook her head. “We set up a camera to monitor the front door. Might yield some answers, if we’re lucky.”

Amanda sipped her coffee, tasted the perfect amount of cream and sugar blended with robust coffee. Imagined all the needed caffeine rushing into her system. “Marry me, McKenna.”

“I’m flattered. But I don’t swing that way.” McKenna shot her a look. “And judging from that hallway lip-lock, neither do you.”

How much had the other woman witnessed?

She continued organizing her stack. “Robinson, this one doesn’t need flowers.” McKenna used her closed fist, thumb out, to point toward Amanda without looking up from her work.

“Says who?” Amanda fiddled with the tattered edge of her cup insulator. Kept herself from peeking at the man still standing beside her.

Her best friend shook her head. “Just coffee with five packets of sugar and three of those little French vanilla creamers. Or two to three tablespoons of whatever milk product you have on hand. Write it down. Get it tattooed somewhere. It would probably lead to a lot more making out on top of the mail.”

Mother of pearl. They were never going to hear the end of this.

“Roger. I’ll put that on my to-do list. Giant, coffee-oriented tattoo.” Robinson pulled out a stool near the counter, on the other side of McKenna. He rested a bent arm on the hard surface and placed his chin between thumb and forefinger.

She could only imagine the space he’d give such a monstrosity. Just to get a laugh.

That warm perusing regard met hers, across the counter, as if to say,
I’m game
.

She gave a quick shake of her head and tucked the mail on the recessed counter.

“Jordan at the hospital?” Robinson scanned the items McKenna had spread out.

“Yes. Minus one nurse reporting a suspicious phone call, early this morning, there’s nothing to report. Still not sure who leaked the information to the press, but Jonas is stable. The swelling in his brain has receded significantly, but they’ll take him for another CT scan to make sure there aren’t any bleeds. Barring that, he should be back in surgery.”

And what happened after that? Even healthy, he’d be an easy target for these men. Men, who’d not wanted the cash in his pocket or the keys to his flashy car, but something else. Maybe it was that purple diary. Or the knowledge only Jonas possessed. Either way, neither he nor Ariana would be safe until they were caught.

“Wait?” Amanda straightened. “What kind of phone call?”

“A woman asking after his condition. Doubt it came from the prison, guys. Too early for that type of thing. I’ve got Agent Saragosa tracing where it originated, hangover and all.”

“Serves him right.” Robinson let the words fly on the edge of a cough. Then he sipped his beverage. “I’d promote you, Moore, but that would pretty much eliminate my job.”

“Saragosa’s not trying to steal your woman. He was just drunk. Stand down with the caveman act.”

Robinson shot Amanda an are-you-hearing-this motion, complete with raised eyebrows and scrunched forehead.

She swallowed back a laugh and scooted closer to her best friend, then snagged her own chair, opposite Robinson.

“What have we got here?” The images of various young girls stared at her from each sheet of paper. “Are they all fourteen?” She grabbed the stack McKenna still had in her hand. Shuffled through them in rapid succession. The faces smiled for the camera, full of budding youth and optimism.

“It’s not a lot to go on. Certainly nothing to make us jump to the conclusion that they are all a part of the three girls we have, but it’s a start.”

“How far back are we talking?” Robinson stood. Rounded his agent and plucked a chunk of paper from Amanda’s hands.

“You could find missing girls that age for years. The key is finding a point of origin. The first one. Anything that connects them. And if it goes back years, you have to wonder why he’s suddenly left one of his conquests in plain sight.”

Kimberly had been a study in art. Eyebrows perfectly manicured. Fingernails clipped. Skin flawless, and minus the blisters on her fingers and feet, there wasn’t a scratch indicating any time in captivity. She wasn’t malnourished. Her hair was shiny. Would have made a supermodel jealous. And the words in her flesh had been carved with care.

Amanda paused. “Kimberly turned fifteen two days ago, right?”

McKenna sifted through some papers and pulled up the one bearing the redhead’s face. “Looks like you’re correct.”

Amanda braced the heel of one bent leg on the rung of her stool. It didn’t explain the sudden trophy their unsub had left them. “Has there been any recent crime near where we found Kimberly’s body?”

Robinson shook his head. “A few car accidents, some traffic violations, public intox. That type of thing. Nothing more.”

Amanda started shuffling through the pages again. Noted an awful lot of girls with May birth dates. “This isn’t our guy’s first drop off. It’s too precise. Something happened to trigger it. The sooner we figure out what, the better. Did the security tapes from any of the surrounding businesses show anything?”

McKenna gave a sigh. “Don’t know.”

Beside Amanda, Robinson stopped shuffling through the girls. “What do you mean?”

The other woman glanced between them. “No video to go through.”

“There’s about five businesses with interacting angles of the area where we found Kimberly.” Amanda had checked them herself. Requested the feed.

“One was broken. And a virus wiped the other four.”

No.

“Trojan-type.” Her best friend said the words as if she’d rather drink bleach. “Same kind our serial bomber used last year, downtown.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

AMANDA TRIED TO concentrate on anything but the news McKenna had dropped in her lap. One Trojan virus didn’t mean squat. It didn’t
not
mean that, either. So, they had a perp who knew something about technology.

No need to panic. With any luck, their guy wasn’t great at covering tracks and they’d find an IP address leading them right to his doorstep.

This didn’t have anything to do with Beth. Or the past. Or…

“You’re heading the joint task force, Nettles.” Captain Dentzen sipped from his coffee mug and then set it aside, on his desk. Next to a neat bunching of files.

Heading the task force? She hadn’t heard right. Amanda cleared her throat and tried not to squirm in her seat, inside her boss’s office.

Dentzen placed both hands on his hips and surveyed her as if he wanted to do anything but put her in charge of something so large. As if that one glance would reveal the answer to every question he had about her.

If that were the case, why have her here at all?

Sure, Amanda had acted as liaison between agencies on numerous occasions. Enjoyed the interaction with other law enforcement officials. Learned something every time. New techniques, different avenues to hunt down a perp, and forged friendships that could save lives. “Sir, I—”

“Your contacts are SAC Robinson and Agent Kendall from the SBI. Though I doubt the SBI will have much involvement, as this doesn’t fall under their typical jurisdiction. Kendall wants vindication for his agent. Can’t say I blame him.”

Robinson was a given. He’d started this, so there was no way he’d back away. Not even if his life were on the line. And she’d be stuck with him
and
Jonas if the other man weren’t busy fighting for life.

“Kendall seems to think his unfortunate circumstance is related to Kimberly Rose’s case, but admits he liked to work several cold cases while keeping his focus on active or open ones.”

Had Jonas been spreading himself too thin? Taking on too much? “Is Agent Kendall willing to get us information on the cases he was working on? It would give us a baseline.”

As if she’d asked permission to piss in his coffee, his jaw flexed. “Whatever it is, isn’t our main concern. The crime did not occur in our particular jurisdiction. And, unless you’ve got a direct bread crumb trail or something shows up here, we’re staying out of it.”

Really? A fellow cop had gone down and the old jurisdiction battle was going to stop Dentzen from joining the fight? Amanda opened her mouth.

He shot her an I-dare-you-to-test me look. “Detective Davis will assist you in any manner. We’ve got a meeting at eight. You’re going to need a direction to send them in. Whatever you find, I want to know about it.” He grabbed a pile of paperwork and handed it toward her, but didn’t let go. “Nothing off the radar, Nettles. By the book.”

She pressed her lips together to hold every thought back. She’d never done anything that didn’t put suspects behind bars. Never cheated her way into a situation. Just gotten there through hard work and intuition. Been so intent on the end result, she often thought of little else. Not because she wanted to make a name, but because of the lives involved.

Each person was someone’s world.

When did that cease to matter?

“Shouldn’t Detective Brink head this? He’s been working with the FBI on it.” If you could call some minor facts help.

Why had Robinson even enlisted his help when he had Jonas?

Dentzen released the file and rounded his desk, then sat behind it. A piece of paper stole his direct attention. “If I wanted Brink, I’d be having this conversation with him. Feel free to use his expertise, if needed.” One hand lifted toward her in a wave. “Dismissed.”

Huh. At least that hadn’t changed.

Amanda stood and walked toward the door.

“One more thing, Nettles.”

With her hand on the knob, she turned back. He hadn’t looked up, busy with whatever information lie in front of him, a pen at the ready, in his right hand.

“Saw the news this morning.” His gaze found hers then, stern. “Anything you need to tell me?”

Everything inside her stilled. Miss Sass laughed and pointed from her perch, at the naivety Amanda was, again, displaying. Of course he’d seen the news. Everyone probably had. Her dad had even called this morning, the edge of anxiety and concern blotting out words meant to come off as light.

“Not unless receiving unwanted mail from an inmate is a felony I didn’t know about, sir.”

He dropped his pen and sat back in his chair. Shook his head as if she were the biggest mess he’d ever seen. “Alright.” He returned to his work.

She didn’t move. Wasn’t sure if she were imagining this whole scene. Maybe she was still sleeping on Robinson’s chest. Her mind had conjured up the letter, Lilly’s almost normal behavior and the kiss she’d shared with one extremely handsome FBI agent.