Dead Don't Lie (9 page)

CHAPTER TWELVE

T
HE
AIR
WAS
ELECTRIC
.
This man sitting next to her, staring out the window, drove Evelyn crazy. Marcus was a walking puzzle, and she wasn’t sure if she’d ever figure him out. Evelyn wanted to engage him in conversation, just so she could hear him talk, but couldn’t find the right words. How could she ask someone she’d just met to open up, share his innermost secrets? And could she ask him to be honest, when she wouldn’t—couldn’t—return the favor? She silently cursed.

She knew one thing: he’d definitely gotten under her skin, made her squirm.

He turned onto her quiet street and pulled up outside her home. He parked the car, turned off the engine and twisted to face her. “Thanks for the invite tonight. That’s exactly what I needed.”

“It was all Kate’s idea.” Evelyn looked up at him and forgot to breathe. She had to clear her throat to get her words to form. “I swear she has this sixth sense, always knowing exactly what we need. She’s spot-on, every time. It’s actually pretty fascinating.”

“Well, I appreciate you sharing your family. That little Liam’s a total stud.”

He unbuckled his seat belt and pushed opened the car door.

Evelyn laughed in agreement, but it quickly died in her throat. He called them
family
. She glanced at him, gut twisting.
Did he know about her family? Had Ryan said something to him tonight? No. He wouldn’t...would he?

Marcus came around the car to open her door. Swallowing the panic and fear that seized her, she stared up at him, trying to read his eyes. Nothing but warmth. No pity. No veiled awkwardness. He held out his hand. She hesitantly reached toward him. He pulled her out of the car, then placed his palm on the small of her back as he ushered her up the sidewalk. The heat of his touch made her heart race and her stomach flutter.
Did he know?
If he knew, he didn’t seem to care—maybe he’d already decided that he could handle her past and all that came with it. Her head spun.

“This isn’t a good idea.” She shrank away from him. Disappointment crushed her as his warm touch faded. Heat rushed to her face, and astonishment flooded her.
Why should she care if he was touching her or not?
But she did.

“What isn’t?” He stopped and looked at her. A tender smile twitched on his lips.

She motioned with her hands. “This. Us. Don’t get me wrong. You’re great. And, yes, okay, clearly you’re smoking hot. Any woman could see that.”

She climbed the steps.

“You think I’m sexy?” He followed close behind her.

Evelyn glanced over her shoulder and glared at him. “I’m serious here—”

“As am I.” Laughter twinkled in his eyes.

She focused her attention on her purse and fumbled for her keys. “There’s a professional line that shouldn’t be crossed. Even if there wasn’t, my life is...complicated.”

Marcus leaned against the porch railing. “I can handle complicated.”

She forgot about her keys. Tears pooled in her eyes. “You haven’t even begun to see complicated. My life brings complicated to a whole new level, one that you truly don’t want to encounter.”

“Shouldn’t that be my decision?”

Startled, she just stared at him, mouth slightly open.
What?
Had Kate and Ryan said something to this man? She snapped her mouth shut and shook her head.

“Trust me, Marcus. It’s better to not even start,” she whispered. Grief wrapped itself around her heart and squeezed.

He moved toward her.

She stepped back, flustered by his presence, until she hit the door.

“That is...” She cleared her throat. “If there wasn’t a professional line that shouldn’t be crossed.”

“Yes, you’ve already pointed that out.”

Evelyn felt the warmth radiate from his body. She groped for the doorknob. “Well, because there—”

He leaned in and gently kissed her. The light, feathery touch of his lips on hers sent her heart stampeding and chills down her spine.

She froze for a moment, enjoying the sensation briefly before pulling away. “What the hell was that? Did you not just hear anything I said?”

“I did. It’s my decision.” He smiled at her. “And I’ve decided. Just getting a sample.”

Her irritation flamed out just as quickly as it had flared. She couldn’t help the curving of her lips. He’d decided, had he? “You’re impossible. You’ll be gone after this case is closed.”

“I’m not going anywhere. You fascinate me. You’re beautiful, strong, feisty and pretty amazing. So, complicated or not, I have every intention of getting to know you. All of you.” He gently took her hand, flipped it and pressed his lips to her palm.

She stared, wide-eyed and slightly breathless, then pulled her hand from his and fumbled once again for her keys. Finally, she unlocked the door and pushed it open. Stepping over the threshold, she stopped and studied him. “You aren’t one to give up, are you?”

“No.”

“Good. Because we have a killer to catch. See you tomorrow.” A brief smile spread across her features as she shut and locked the door.

She slumped against the door. A nervous laugh escaped lips that still tingled from the touch of his mouth on hers.

* * *

L
AUGHING
, M
ARCUS
WALKED
to his car and got in. He’d known from the moment he set eyes on Evelyn that she was different. He’d seen past the cool persona to the soft, gentle woman beneath. She cared for victims’ families as if they were her own. He’d never seen someone so quickly and effectively empathize with a grieving loved one. She felt what they did and drew from it. It was mesmerizing to watch.

Their job was tedious and dark. He’d seen too many agents burn out, or—worse—grow cold. Clearly gripped by this case, he’d witnessed a depth of emotion the past few days from Detective Davis. And from what he could tell, it wasn’t a bad thing, but a bridled strength. He’d often seen her pull from whatever it was that she felt in the moment to focus their investigation. Channeling emotions like that was a true skill. He knew from experience that it couldn’t be taught: you either had it, or you didn’t.

Evelyn Davis had it in spades.

The engine purred under him as he smiled into the darkness. Maybe something good would come out of this case after all.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

F
OR
THE
FIRST
time in a very long time, Evelyn woke up and thought about something other than her family. She watched the ceiling fan as it made its dutiful turns. Her mind was on one thing: Marcus. The white sheers covering her window danced and billowed as cool autumn air blew into her room. She stretched, rolled out of bed and reached for her phone. No waiting messages, and still plenty of time before she needed to be in. The rich, smooth aroma of her morning coffee fix drifted up from the kitchen, beckoning to her. Silently thanking Kate for talking her into upgrading her old coffeepot to an automatic one, she headed out of her bedroom and, without hesitation, down the stairs to answer its call.

Steaming coffee in hand, she stood in the middle of her office and studied the wall, trying to look at it with fresh eyes. Nothing. She pulled up the desk chair, sat and tucked one leg underneath her. With one foot, she slowly swiveled the chair to the right, then to the left. She sipped the molten brew and stared at the old newspaper clippings, faded crime scene photos and multicolored Post-it notes. Still nothing. Frustration ripped through her. Nothing had changed since the last time she sat here. She sighed.
Would it ever?

Her phone chirped, reminding her of the time. She got up, set her mug on the desk and walked over to the photo of her sister. She kissed her fingers, then pressed them against the smiling face. “I’ll figure it out, Olivia. I promise.”

* * *

S
HOWERED
AND
WITH
her second cup of coffee in hand, Evelyn opened her front door and walked out into the brisk morning. Her boot crunched on something. She looked down, spied the yellow manila envelope and stepped back. Her blood froze. Her heart jumped so far up her throat she almost choked.

“Think fast, Evelyn” was scrawled across the front in red pen.

Without touching the package, she pressed herself into the cover of her door frame and scanned the street. She’d memorized her neighbors’ cars and their license plates when she moved in and had committed their names and faces to memory. Nothing seemed out of place. No one was even out this early in the morning. So where had this package come from?

Her training kicked in. The galloping within her chest slowed to a mere trot.

Rummaging through her bag, she grabbed the latex gloves she always carried with her, yanked them on and squatted down. Careful to keep her line of sight open and her body shielded as best as possible, Evelyn reached for the package. Her thumb and pointer finger clamped down on one corner as she stood and retreated into her home. The envelope was light. It felt almost empty. She kicked the door shut with one foot, turned the bolt with her free hand and held the limp envelope at arm’s length, as if it might bite her.

She grabbed her phone from her pocket and typed a quick text to Ryan and Marcus.
I’ll be late. Be ready when I get there.
The message was cryptic, and Ryan would be pissed at her for not explaining. If she tried, both men would tell her not to open it but to come straight in.
Yeah, right.
That clearly wasn’t happening. She shoved her phone into her pocket.

Ignoring her phone’s angry vibrations, Evelyn walked to the kitchen. She placed the envelope on the counter, stepped back and chewed on her lip. Hands on her hips, she debated her next move. It was addressed to her, but should she open it? Probably not. She leaned against the counter, crossed her arms and glared at the package. If either Ryan or Marcus had received something like this, had opened it at home and not in the safety of the bull pen, she’d be livid. But...that still left the question: Was
she
going to open it?

Most likely. Better to apologize than ask for permission, right?

Besides, something in the pit of her stomach told her she didn’t want to open this around anyone else.

She pulled a small paring knife out of a drawer and picked up the envelope. With a deep breath, she slid the point into the corner and tugged. She dumped the contents onto the counter. Christina and Cynthia Gardner’s lifeless eyes gaped up at her. More detailed, colored photos of all the crime scenes from the case stared at her. Horror raced through her and chills snaked up her spine. A picture of Ashley Middleton’s body made her stomach roll. And a Post-it was stuck on a photo of Sam Middleton.

Three scrawling words screamed up at her. “Tick tock, sweetheart.”

She shoved the photos in the package and threw it into her purse. Keys in hand, she hit one on her speed dial, then cradled the phone between her ear and shoulder. She checked out her window to ensure the delivery person wasn’t lurking around her house. No sign of anyone. She grabbed her things, locked her house and went out to her car.

Ryan answered on the second ring. “What the hell kind of text was that? And where the hell are you?”

As she got in her car, she ignored his questions and got straight to the point. “I received a little present this morning.”

“A present? From who? I’m not following.”

“From our serial killer. He—” She turned the key, then threw her car into Reverse.

“What the fuck, Evelyn?” Ryan yelled into the phone.

She held it away from her ear as she glanced over her shoulder and backed out of the driveway. “I’m on my way now. Maybe we’ll get lucky and we can finally pull a print. Be there in a few.”

* * *

H
E
LET
THE
curtain fall from his fingers and set the camera down. He’d captured the moment perfectly. It would be a nice addition. He wished he could have delivered the package himself. Seen her eyes widen in panic. Watch her nostrils flare as dread washed over her perfectly porcelain face, knowing he’d bested her. That he’d won. But no. Now wasn’t the right time. He still had plans for her.

But soon. Very soon.

His fingers twitched in anticipation. The constant fury bubbled up, burning away the calm facade and blurring his vision, choking him. He blinked hard. Focused on his breathing. Channeled the anguish, the fury, to its rightful place.

Her.

He peered out the window again, watched her taillights disappear and laughed. He’d take from her. All of her. And at precisely the right moment...he’d make her scream.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

E
VELYN
TOOK
THE
stairs two at a time. After she rounded the last flight, she halted. Both men flanked the door at the top stair, arms crossed, eyes stormy. What? Had the front desk called up when she arrived? She glanced between Ryan and Marcus. Oh, crap, she was toast. Without a word, she reached into her bag and handed the envelope to Marcus. She pushed past him, then marched by Ryan and plopped down in her desk chair. Slowly, she turned and looked at them.

“Evelyn, are you out of your mind? What the hell were you thinking?” Ryan asked, his voice cold as steel. “You should’ve called this in, left it where you found it, not brought it into your car. Are you insane?”

Dumbfounded, she sat there.
Insane?
Of course she wasn’t insane. What was Ryan’s problem? Good grief, this was ridiculous. She was an adult. She’d made a decision—end of discussion. Granted, it wasn’t the best decision she’d made in a while. But still. She wasn’t about to admit that now. Not in front of both men. And certainly not with them glaring at her.

“If I tried to pull this shit, you’d have my bal—”

“It was addressed to me,” she said, instantly wishing she’d kept her mouth shut and just endured the tongue-lashing. It was a ludicrous excuse, but she couldn’t think of anything else.

Marcus’s eyebrows shot up and a smile tweaked his lips. Ryan stared at her as if she’d grown another head.

“It was addressed...” Ryan made a little choking sound in his throat, put his hands on her desk and leaned toward her. “Are. You. Fucking. Serious? You’re seriously going to give me that bullshit? What if there was something other than photos in your little present? A bomb. Anthrax. You’d have my balls in a vise if the tables were turned and I’d pulled this shit on you.”

She calmly watched her partner. “Are you finished?”

His eyes flashed, the blue turning the color of cool steel. “Oh...I’m just getting started, sweet cheeks.”

Evelyn bit her lip to keep the grin from escaping. Despite the hellish nightmare this day was turning into, the fire in Ryan’s eyes and that nickname slip made her want to laugh.

“Ry—”

He held up his hand. “He could’ve killed you. He just made this personal.”

It’s always personal.
At least for her. She didn’t doubt that both men glowering at her right now continued to keep the boundary between duty and personal drawn. It was something that had been beaten into them from day one in the academy. And it made sense, really. It protected your sanity. But she’d made a conscious decision as she’d been sworn in to never draw that line. Right or wrong, it didn’t matter to her: every murder was personal.

“Okay, first, he didn’t kill me, Ryan. I’m here. Alive. All is well.” Evelyn lowered her voice as she eyeballed her partner, who was still leaning on his hands—in her personal space.

She put her hand on his shoulder and gently pushed him away. He stood and crossed his arms.

“And fine, yes, he made it personal. But instead of busting my balls—”

Marcus chuckled, which threw her off guard. She cast him a dirty look. He put his hand over his mouth, looking apologetic. She turned her attention back to Ryan, who was still glowering.

“The real question is, why? I don’t have any connection with any of the victims. He could’ve sent this to any one of us.”

“Yes, but he sent it to you,” Marcus said. “And after he sent that little letter to the editor. We have to assume that the unsub has something, some sort of personal vendetta, against you, or he wouldn’t have sent
you
the crime scene photos.”

“Maybe he has issues with women in authority?” Ryan suggested, finally relaxing.

Evelyn shook her head. “No. That doesn’t make sense. If that were his trigger, then his targets would be just that—women in authority. Not family units where the women are stay-at-home moms. And he would torture them, but he doesn’t. He targets and tortures the husband.”

Marcus’s eyes grew dark with worry. “He’s trying to taunt you, get your attention.”

“Well, he definitely did that. But I’m not fazed.” Deep down she was. This whole string of murders felt familiar. Personal. The fact that she hadn’t figured out why by now ate her from the inside out. She’d survived to help bring justice to victims like these families, had she not? If not for that one reason, then why?

She pinched the bridge of her nose and shook the dark thoughts out of her mind. She needed to get out of her head and into the psycho’s to find him.

But first, she needed to diffuse the ticking bomb in front of her. Ryan was still clearly agitated. Worry shone brightly in Marcus’s eyes.

“Okay. Fine. Yes. Opening that package was not the smartest move. But I did it. Now it’s over. I’m sorry. Let’s move on.”

“No more heroic shit,” Ryan said.

Marcus nodded.

“Promise.” She smiled at the men, grateful to finally be out of the spotlight. It made her uncomfortable to be in the hot seat with either of them. She stood, reached over and picked up the photos Ryan had tossed on his desk by the edges. “Now. We need to get these to the lab, have them run for prints. Maybe he got sloppy and left one.”

“You don’t think he did, though, do you?” Marcus asked.

“Honestly, no. He’s smart, patient. But it’s a shot. And right now, we need anything we can get. I hate feeling that he’s one step ahead of us.”

Ryan got up and paced. Evelyn sighed. She thought she’d successfully put out that fire. Apparently not. Crap.

“Why not send them to the station?” The heat in Ryan’s words rose as he aired the question. “Why to your home?”

He turned suddenly. She saw the look of horror flicker across his face.

She held her breath.
Don’t, Ryan.
She knew his mind had locked onto the same question she’d landed on as she’d dumped the package’s contents on her counter.

“Evelyn, how did he get your home address in the first place? It’s not listed.”

Crap.

Marcus’s head snapped up. “Excuse me?”

He glanced from Ryan to Evelyn, then back to Ryan, irritation and concern flashing in his eyes.

“Yeah, that’s right. Her address is
unlisted
.”

“Evelyn.” Marcus spoke with such authority she had no choice but to listen. Not that she could’ve done anything else but sit captivated by him. “That complicates things—a lot. We have to consider that he’s following you. Which means—”

She didn’t want to hear Marcus say it, but she’d already suspected what he was about to say. She’d had that exact thought the moment the photos dropped onto her counter. The killer was watching her, had followed her to her home. The idea terrified her—and royally pissed her off. She hadn’t let the last psychopath rule her every waking minute—at least, that’s what she told herself on a regular basis—so she sure as hell wouldn’t let
this
one scare her now.

“Consider?” Ryan asked in disgust. “I think that’s pretty blatant here. Don’t you? The psycho left her that little package. On. Her. Doorstep. We need to move her—”

“Absolutely not,” Evelyn said. She’d let the two men stand around being all cavemanlike long enough. Yes, she was a woman. She had breasts and a pretty face that made men want to protect her. She got that. But she wasn’t weak, scared or sitting in a corner crying because some prick had left her an early morning package.

She was a seasoned, sought-after homicide detective. One who didn’t easily back down from a threat. And she wasn’t going to back down from this one—she was going to meet it head-on. “I’m
not
going to let some psycho dictate my life. It’s not happening. End of story.”

“Then we get a protective detail on you,” Ryan said.

“That’s not—”

“Don’t give me that shit, Evelyn. You want to be stubborn, fine. But it’s necessary, and you know it.” Ryan looked at Marcus for support.

From Marcus’s perch on the edge of his desk, he nodded his head. “I agree with him.”

“Fine.” She threw up her hands, aggravated at being railroaded by both of them. “Plainclothes. The last thing I need is my quiet, sweet neighborhood up in arms because some cop cruiser’s permanently parked outside my home.”

She glared at Ryan.
What was with him today?
“Does that work for you, dear knight in shining armor?”

“For the time being.”

“Good. Now that that’s settled—”

The fire in Ryan’s eyes vanished. In its place, genuine concern brimmed.

“I’m only trying to keep you safe,” he said. “Kate would kill me if something happened to you.”

A lump unexpectedly lodged in her throat.

Evelyn swallowed the tears and smiled at Ryan—her partner and her brother. “I know, Ry. As much as I fight you when you go all Neanderthal on me—”

“I did not.”

Her eyebrows arched.

“Okay.” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked down. “Maybe a little.”

“A lot, but deep down, I appreciate it. Promise.”

“I know you do.” He laughed heartily.

And just like that, Ryan and Evelyn were once again in sync.

“Now can we please get back to business?” She pointed at the two men. “If you two are so concerned with my well-being, then stop playing caveman and let’s figure out why this sicko is fixated on me.”

As the three of them went back to work Evelyn glanced up at the ancient clock and shuddered. They were still playing catch-up to this guy, and they all knew it. With each second that passed, he continued to outmaneuver them, left them one step behind.

They were losing ground, and fast.