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Authors: Cameron Dane

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BOOK: Becoming Three
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“Alexander Quick isn't our killer.” As much as Jace hated admitting that he could be so wrong, he knew it was the truth.
“No no. Not that. Not the guy.” Excitement infused Max's voice as she shuffled through papers at the speed of light. “But what if your theory was dead-on, and you just had the wrong person?” Her eyes lit with success. She held up a photocopied picture and tapped the black-andwhite face. “I think it's this guy.”
Jace snatched the paper out of her hand.

* * * *

Cade tucked his notepad in his shirt pocket. “Thanks again for your time.” He stood in the living room of Mr. and Mrs. Lynd, Ginger's neighbors who had been out of town earlier in the week. “I'm sorry for your loss.”

“We're sorry to have lost such a good neighbor,” Mrs. Lynd replied. “We wish we could say we saw something and help.”

“Have—” Cade was going to say,
Have a good afternoon
, but not for the first time since entering the Lynd house, their twelve-year-old son gave him another fast, nervous glance from the couch across the open room. Cade gritted his teeth against saying something; he knew his scars scared some people. Often, kids. Then he noticed the boy tear his attention away from his mother talking to a deputy, put it down on his cell phone sitting in his lap, and move his hand to cover the device.

Holy mother of God.
“Dale,” Cade said as he approached the boy. His mother had introduced the boy after inviting Cade inside. “Is there something you'd like to tell me?” He stooped in front of the kid. “Maybe show me?”
“N-n-no.” The boy's face burned with color. He looked to his mother and pushed the phone between his legs. “There's nothing.”
Cade looked over his shoulder at Mrs. Lynd. “May I have permission to look at your son's cell phone?”

“Of course.” Mrs. Lynd stretched out her hand and gave her son one of those “mother” looks. The kid handed it over with fingers that shook like crazy.

As soon as Cade saw the first picture stored in the memory, he knew why the kid was terrified. Twenty-some-odd pictures later, Cade found the one he needed. His heart raced as he shot to his feet.

Son. Of. A. Bitch.
* * * *

Sarah approached Peter Robbins with a smile on her face. After all, the guy might not be from around here, but he could still write a check for the youth center. He also seemed to have some pull with Danny's parents, and she wanted to have a quiet conversation with Peter about seeing if he could guide the Carltons toward letting their son return to his various classes at the center. She thought it would be good for him to be around his friends who just wanted to hang with their buddy again.

“Mr. Robbins.” She kept her tone pleasant and approachable. “May I speak with you?” “Certainly.” He took her elbow and guided her to a quiet corner. “And please, call me

Peter.”
A little twist of bad taste curdled in Sarah's throat. She knew Jace didn't like the guy, but at
the same time, that distaste didn't negate the bond Peter had formed with Ginger's family.
He has an in that I need.
She smiled again and dived right in. “I'd like to speak to you about the youth center. But
more than that, about Danny…”

* * * *

“The psychic?” Jace asked. He held the photocopy of Peter Robbins's picture in his hand as he paced and looked from it to Max. “Lay it out. How did you figure?”
“The man assisted on a murder case in Cambridge,” Max answered. “It didn't ring a bell right away because it's not Boston itself, but”—she jabbed her finger at the paper she held— “Cambridge is right outside of Boston. You just have to drive across a bridge to get there. Guess when he was on that case?” She raised a brow and held up the evidence for him to see. “Seven months ago, right before Sonya Mayer went missing.”
“Shit.” Jace flew high for a second then crashed back down to earth. “But that's not when Ginger was there.”
“No. But maybe…maybe…maybe…” Max shuffled through more papers, scanning back and forth, back and forth, between three sheets. “Damn it! Yes. Look here.” She leaned across the table to where he stood and pointed at another line of information. “Ginger went to Austin three months ago. And guess who was helping out on a missing-persons case in Austin?”
“Son of a bitch.” The air whooshed right out of Jace's lungs as the puzzle pieces started falling into place. “That's it. It's him. It has to be. What a sick fuck. He murders a woman, then comes and ingratiates himself into the victim's family? I don't care about his fucking alibi. He must have somehow manipulated buying that movie ticket. He somehow came here, killed Ginger and Sonya, and then went back home and flew back in on Monday morning to become a hero for the Carltons.” Adrenaline got Jace moving, Max hot on his heels. “Shit, I don't know the travel time, but I bet he could have driven here and back to San Francisco so he didn't leave a trail. He's clever enough to do it.”
“Of course he could.” Max kept up with Jace's pace. “Easy enough to check. I bet it's something like fifteen hours.”
Shit shit shit
. “Where's the boss?” Jace asked.
“Scene of a car accident.”
Jace pushed out of the station and started to run. “That murdering son of a bitch Robbins is at the youth center right now. We can't wait. We'll have to call the sheriff and let him know what's going on.” He tore his cell off his belt, but it rang before he could call. He saw the name and answered. “Listen, Cade—”
“I just talked to the boss.” Cade talked right over Jace. “Meet me at the youth center; I'm on my way there now. You'll never fucking believe what I have on the cell phone of the kid across the street from where Ginger lived.”
“A picture of Peter Robbins murdering her.” Jace snarled and ran at the same time, Max at his side. A two-block sprint to the place would go a lot faster than if they'd gone around back of the station for one of the vehicles.
“Close enough,” Cade answered. “I have a very blond guy who looks an awful lot like Peter in a dark Silverado parked on the street in front of Ginger's house. Apparently Ginger didn't close her curtains all the way, and the kid across the street has been collecting nudie pictures of her. The boy was looking to spy on Friday night and got Peter picking her up instead.”
“Fuck. He dyed his hair. Twice. Clever little shit.” Jace pulled up, slowing the thundering of his boots into the concrete, until he finally came to a stop in front of the center. “We're here,” he told Cade. “Max and I are going to go inside and arrest him.”
“I'm almost there. Be cool,” Cade advised. “Try to get him outside away from the kids before you arrest him.”
“Will do.” Jace put his phone back on his belt and looked to Max. “You ready to do this, nice and easy?”
“Been ready since Ren and Jasper discovered Ginger's body.” She bounded up the dozen stairs and opened the door. “Let's go.”
Jace followed her inside.

Chapter Twenty-five

Through the clusters of people, Jasper was the first person Jace saw when he and Max entered the main room of the youth center. Sarah was the second, and his heart lodged right up into his throat. She stood away from the others and carried on a conversation with their murderer.

Okay, man, just stay calm and get the guy out of here before anyone else gets hurt.

Jace could not possibly think of either Sarah or Jasper right now, so close to a killer, and still function at his job. Jasper spotted him moving through the crowd, grinned, and took a step forward. Jace made eye contact, offered a slight shake of his head, and Jasper stepped back. He hoped to hell Jasper didn't take his gesture as a rejection, but he couldn't care about bruised feelings right now.

As he and Max approached Sarah and Peter, Jace schooled his features to pleasant. Sarah looked like she had won the goddamn lottery the second she saw him. “Jace, hi!”

She squeezed his forearm. “Everything go okay?” Sarah smiled at Deputy Stuart too. “Hi, Max.” Max winked. “Hey, Sarah.”
“Hi, honey,” Jace said. He even leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek. After all,

he'd done it once in front of Peter already today; it might look suspicious and draw his attention if he kept Sarah at a distance. “Looks like the party is starting to wind down.”

 

“A bit,” Sarah replied. “But I'm glad to see you came back.”

Peter finally spoke up. “If you'll excuse me?” He put his hand to the small of Sarah's back, and Jace just resisted tearing his whole arm off. “I should get back to the Carltons.”
“Actually”—Max eased in front of Peter—“if we could have a few minutes of your time, Mr. Robbins, that would be great.”
“I really do have to get back to the family,” Peter said. His focus shifted around the room, and Jace followed Peter's gaze to Cilla and Howard, looking like they accepted yet more condolences from well-meaning people. “I've neglected them long enough, and it looks like the afternoon has taken a toll on them.” Watching Peter's false concern made Jace's skin crawl. “If the sheriff would like to schedule some time to talk about some of the hazy pieces I'm receiving about this mysterious woman in Ginger's life, I can come by the station tomorrow.”
“The sheriff doesn't need anything scheduled,” Max said. “But if
I
could just have five minutes of your time right now, since we're both here? We could talk outside where it's a little quieter.”
Peter looked apologetic and shrugged. “I simply can't right now, Deputy. I'm sorry.”
Damn it
. Jace suppressed a growl of frustration and traded a look with Max. Getting the “we tried” visual exchange, he put his focus back on Peter. “I'm sorry to hear th—”
Peter's stare narrowed, and he looked past Jace. Jace followed to where Peter stared; Cade entered the youth center and walked toward them with a determined stride. It was then as if a mask slipped off Peter Robbins's face. “Ohhh, so it's like that, is it?” With the speed and shock of a starter gun at a race, Peter yanked Sarah to him with fingers twisted in her shirt and used his other hand to dig in under her jaw, lifting her head at an unnatural angle. Jace whipped out his weapon and managed to train it near Peter's head by refusing to look into Sarah's eyes. The heels she wore made her almost the same height as Peter and thus difficult to find a clean shot. Jace heard the
whish
of a gun pulling from a holster and knew Max had her gun aimed at Peter too.
Screams from adults and confusion among children who didn't understand what was going on created a cacophony of chaos behind Jace, but he drowned them out with one word in his head repeating over and over again.
Focus focus focus.
Jace heard Cade say, “Ty, get these people out of here. Through the front, please.”
Peter circled the arm that had been at Sarah's back to around her waist and wrestled her to the right a dozen steps, toward the back exit, but didn't get anywhere close before stopping. “Put down those guns and stay back, or I will snap her neck.” He looked back and forth between Jace and Max. “What do you think you found?”
“Max”—Cade moved in with calm in his voice—“help Ty get everyone corralled outside, right now, and then block off access to the door. Alert the sheriff to the situation.”
“Not the pretty blond cowboy,” Peter ordered. “He stays. Scarface, you go too.”
Jasper moved into Jace's peripheral view, fear and helplessness flooding his eyes.
“Get out of here.” Jace's voice rang low.
“No.” Peter overrode him, his voice sharp. “He stays, or I kill her right now.”
Snapped her neck cleanly
. Robyn's assessment of Ginger's death washed over Jace with icy cold, and he didn't dare risk Sarah right now.
“Get behind me,” Jace told Jasper. “Don't make any sudden moves.”
“Okay.” Worry warbled Jasper's voice, but he did as Jace bade.
Cade didn't move with Max to disperse the onlookers. “Jace?”
“I swear to God…” Peter wrenched Sarah's head to an awkward angle, and she squeaked.
“It's okay,” Jace said to Cade, without looking at him. “Do what he says. Go.”
Cade backed off. Jace could feel the layer of backup recede as if someone had removed a blanket from his bare back on a cold night.
The noise in the youth center lowered to a din and then to quiet as Ty, Max, and Cade ushered every other person out of the room. When they were alone, Jace said, “Mr. Robbins, this is not a wise move on your part. Let the woman go and you will have your chance to say your piece and defend yourself.”
An unnatural glint shone in Peter's eyes. “Look at you,” he said, “attempting to be so stoic. But I can see. I can see how terrified you are that I'm going to kill your woman. You're already thinking about the loss. It's in your eyes. It's taking over your whole face.”
Jace flicked his attention to Sarah. One glance at the fear drenching her gaze to dark chocolate had him flinching. Unable to stand it, he returned to looking at Peter. “Harming her will only hurt your cause.”
Shifting his gaze beyond Jace, Peter said, “You're shaking, pretty.” He had to mean Jasper. “Two for the price of one.” Peter made a clucking noise and dug his fingers deep into Sarah's jaw, drawing a whimper from her. “If only I'd known a week ago.”
“Let her go.” Jace worked with every fiber in him to remain calm. “After you do, you can talk as much as you want, and I'll listen. But it has to be just you and me.”
In a split second, Sarah tried to grab Peter's arm and drop her weight, but Peter moved even faster. Jace cried “No!” and behind him, Jasper hoarsely shouted, “Sarah!” as Peter pushed Sarah into the wall, pressing the side of her head against one of the kids' framed pictures. He kept her body as a shield between them and said, “Don't move, or I'll smash her face right through this glass. I swear I will.”
All of his muscles straining, Jace stopped after taking only two steps. Jasper now stood at his side, equally full of tension and terror.
Sweat soaked Jace under his clothes, but he swallowed his heart back down into his chest and made eye contact with Peter again. “Let me help you end this peacefully.” Only the barest scratch marred his tone. “Tell me what you need, and I will try to help you get it.”
A creepy-as-hell smile took over Peter's face. “It's so delicious.” He stared intently at Jace and Jasper and licked the side of Sarah's face. “Shit. It's coming off her too. It's nearly as good as the Carltons'.”
What the fuck?
“I don't understand what that means,” Jace said. “You need to tell me what you want in order to end this.”
Her voice a strange squeak, Sarah looked at him and said, “Jace?”
“Don't think about it, honey.” Jace couldn't help it; he looked at Sarah and couldn't tear away from the horror in her eyes. “We're going to get you out of this.”
Sarah stared back at him, wincing, and the first tears wet her face. She croaked, “He has an erection.”
Son of a bitch. Motherfucker. Sick twist.
Jace lost any sense of professionalism he had ever exhibited in this situation. He didn't take a step forward, but he leaned in and bared his teeth. “Don't you dare even think about it.” The voice of Lucifer himself had nothing on Jace. “I am already going to tear you apart the second I get my hands on you. You don't let her go right now, and I will move it up to murder.”
The glint of pure insanity glazed Peter's eyes. He moaned, and his eyelids fluttered. “You're making it too hard to resist.”
Everything happened in a lightning-fast haze before Jace's eyes. He moved in, anticipating Peter's tearing at Sarah's clothes. Instead, Peter flung Sarah away from the wall and slammed her back into it in rapid-fire succession, cracking the side of her face into the framed picture. Sarah cried out as glass shattered, Jasper shouted and ran to her as she slid into a heap on the floor, and Jace tackled the bastard, who was so fucking crazy, he didn't make one step to run for freedom.
“Jace! Jace!” Jasper's voice had a frantic edge. “Oh God, Jace. Her eyes are closed, and she's bleeding.”
Jace looked up to see Jasper roll Sarah's upper body onto his lap and try to clean her cheek—and what looked like blood pouring from near her temple—with the hem of his shirt. Her eyes were closed, and her arms hung limply to the floor.
His heart lurching, Jace released the noise of an injured animal. “Sarah…” Unable to go to his woman right that second, Jace dug his knee into Peter's back. “Son of a bitch.” With ruthless force, he yanked Peter's arms behind his back and cuffed him tight. “You are under arrest for the murder of Ginger Carlton. And that is just to start.” He grabbed the walkie-talkie from his belt and spoke into it. “Come in and get him before I kill him.”
Peter moaned, the low, thick sound of a man in the throes of pleasure, and the bile started rising in Jace's esophagus.
“Ohhhh…oh please. One more moment.” Peter's hips undulated against the floor under the knee Jace had in the small of his back. “I could listen to you like this forever. Look at his agony. He thinks she's going to die. Oh-oh-oh—” Peter's mouth fell open against the floor as he stared across the small distance to Jasper holding Sarah. His eyes glazed as he shuddered, and ecstasy painted his face.
Jace flipped Peter onto his back and looked down to see a dark stain marring his khaki pants. Knowing it wasn't urine, Jace almost threw up for the first time in his professional career.
Holy shit. What kind of sick fucker followed Ginger all the way home?
Duke, Cade, and Max entered the center with their weapons drawn. As soon as they assessed the situation, they holstered their guns and moved in. Duke got on his walkie-talkie and relayed a message to someone outside that he or she could let the EMTs in the second they arrived.
“Make sure you read him his rights,” Jace informed Max and Cade, as the two of them hauled Peter to his feet. Bitterness burned his throat, but he managed to keep the sickness down. “You might give him a minute to get over his goddamn orgasm, so he can process what you're saying.”
Sarah stirred, and Jace momentarily forgot about Peter Robbins's twisted mind. He crawled over to her just as her eyes flitted open and she put a hand to her head. Tears swam in her eyes, filming the fear. “I want my mom and my brother.”
Jace struggled not to cry too. “I know you do, honey.” He brushed the back of his hand against her cheek.
Jasper heaved an uneven breath and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
“I'm sorry.” Snot came out of Sarah's nose as she looked up at Jace. “I tried to do what you taught me.” Her attention strayed to the man Max led out of the center. “But he was fast.”
“You kept your head.” Jace wiped her nose with his thumb, feigning lightness, when inside he felt like he had a thousand-pound weight on his shoulders. “You did good.”
Her face, only pale a moment before, suddenly lost any trace of color. “I'm going to be sick.”
Jasper turned her sideways faster than she could do herself. She threw up on the floor and lost consciousness again just as the EMTs came in and took over.
Jace followed Jasper, and Ren drove them to the hospital in Jasper's truck.
What Jace really needed was the nearest bar where he could open a tab.

BOOK: Becoming Three
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