Deadly Dance (17 page)

“We slept together. All right?” He held up a hand in surrender. “But that doesn’t mean we made a commitment. In fact, it probably shouldn’t have happened at all. But we’ve both been through a lot lately. And one thing just led to another.” Sort of.

The truth was, he hadn’t been able to quit thinking about her. So he’d taken action, assuming that having sex with her would solve the problem. But it hadn’t. And in spite of everything that was happening—or maybe because of it—the truth was that he wanted her now more than ever.

“It’s not wrong for you to be happy, you know. Bree wouldn’t have wanted you to stop living.”

“I am living,” he protested, albeit a bit too loudly. “But that doesn’t mean I want a relationship with anyone. Hannah included.”

“Who are you telling that to? Me or yourself?” she asked, her smile gentle.

“You,” he snapped. “Or me… Hell, I don’t know. And it doesn’t matter, because even if I did want to move forward—she most certainly does not.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that. I’ve seen her looking at you.”

“I told you she’s just a friend.”

“Well, then you and I have a completely different idea of friendship.” Madison grinned.

“I’ll admit Hannah and I are connected. But not in the
way you’re implying. Besides, Hannah made it more than clear that she’s not interested in a relationship.”

“She’s closed off. I’ll give you that.” Madison shrugged. “The hair and the glasses are a giveaway. I’m guessing that somewhere along the way she got hurt pretty badly. And she learned to hide behind her intellect and keep her feelings locked away. But that doesn’t mean she’s incapable of having a relationship. It just means it’ll take the right guy.”

“Well, then I’m even more sure that it’s not me. I’m not ready to take on someone else’s problems, Madison. Hell, I have enough trouble living with my own.”

“Sometimes it takes someone who can understand.”

He thought about last night and sharing his sister’s story with Hannah. It wasn’t something he usually did. He’d put it down to the heat of the moment, but maybe Madison was right, maybe it was something more. The minute he had the thought, he shook it away. “You’re making too much out of it. Trying to read something into nothing. It was a one-off.”

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe she’s too damaged,” Madison said, turning her attention back to the computer.

“She sure as hell is not. She’s amazing,” Harrison said, anger rising. “You saw her with Tina. She genuinely cared about the woman. And she’s like that with everyone. Hannah may have secrets in her past. We all do. But believe me, she’s not damaged.”

“And you care. A lot.” Madison’s smile held a hint of triumph.

“Never try and argue with a profiler,” he grumbled. “But I still stick to my original point. Hannah doesn’t want anything more from me than what we already have. And neither do I. So just let it go.”

“Okay,” Madison said, holding up her hands in surrender. “I will. But this isn’t about me. And if I’m right, the very fact that Hannah let down her guard to sleep with you means that she cares as much as you do. And that is a very rare thing, indeed.”

“And you, my friend, have turned into a romantic,” Harrison said. “Baby number two is addling your brain.”

“Gabriel actually says the same. But the truth is that I’m deliriously happy. And there’s nothing at all wrong with wishing the same for a friend.”

“Well, I appreciate the thought. But I’m fine with things just the way they are.”

Famous last words.

“So far we’ve got nothing to give us a bead on the killer,” Tracy Braxton said, her brow furrowed as she considered the evidence before her. The techs had almost finished their work, yellow tape and plastic evidence markers somehow only making the scene in Tina’s kitchen seem more macabre. “The blood on the floor is definitely Jasmine Washington’s.”

“I didn’t think you could process DNA evidence that quickly,” Hannah said, looking up from the table where she’d been studying a copy of the video of the attack. Something about it kept niggling at her brain, but so far she hadn’t been able to figure out what it was.

“We can’t. But Jasmine was an autologous blood donor. So we compared our sample to the one at the hospital, and there was enough similarity for me to identify it as Jasmine’s. We’ll follow up with the DNA panel to verify for certain.”

“And there weren’t any fingerprints?” Hannah asked.
She’d only just arrived, having spent the last hour or so with Tina, who, understandably, was completely freaked.

“Lots,” Drake responded from a corner where he was examining blood spatter. “It’ll take days to go through them all. But there’s not much chance any of them belong to the killer. If you’ll notice in the video, he’s wearing gloves.”

Hannah turned back to the phone she was using as a monitor, rewinding and then hitting play. Without the volume, the video seemed more surreal, less frightening. But the sight of the struggle still set her stomach on edge. Then, just before the cat launched himself at the camera, Hannah could clearly see a gloved hand as the unsub attacked Jasmine.

“So we’ve got nothing?” she asked.

“I’ve got a list of names from the local police,” Tracy said. “Men who have a history of sexual violence. But there are only ten, and eight of those are in prison or have moved out of the area.”

“What about the other two?”

“Avery and Simon are checking them out now,” Drake said. “But neither of them really fits the profile. The first one leans toward older victims. And the other one is old. Seventy-eight, to be exact.”

“What about the second video? The one we found here. Has Harrison managed to isolate anything to give us a location?”

“Not yet,” Drake shook his head regretfully. “How’s Tina doing?”

“As well as can be expected, I guess,” Hannah said, blowing out a long breath. “Considering what happened to Jasmine…” She trailed off, shaking her head.

“I think it’s almost harder not knowing,” Tracy agreed. “I wish there was more we could do for her. But this guy isn’t cooperating. So far he’s given us nothing.”

“This place is a mess.” Drake frowned. “I mean there’s been no effort to clean it up at all. Surely there’s something here.”

“You’d think.” Tracy shook her head. “But the things he’s left—broken dishes, the bloodstain—none of them have any trace that could link back to him. He was careful where it mattered.”

“And the rest?” Hannah asked, pretty certain she already knew the answer.

“The rest he wanted us to find,” Tracy said. “This guy is all about sharing. He’s almost going out of his way to make sure we have a front-row seat to the murders.”

“It’s like he’s getting off on jerking us around.” Drake frowned as his gaze swept across the scene.

“He is. After a fashion,” Tracy agreed. “It’s a show of power. A way for him to prove that he’s better than we are. Always one step ahead of the game. He probably likes the danger, too. Although most likely he doesn’t really believe we’ll be able to catch him. And he’s escalating.”

“How do you know?” Hannah laid down the phone, twisting in her chair so that she could better see Tracy.

“Two things. First off, it’s been less than twenty-four hours since we found the first body. And he’s already striking again. The cyber killer, if that’s who he’s emulating, was much less rushed. Five murders over a two-year period.”

“So either this guy is much more driven to find release, or he’s following his own damn drummer,” Drake said, dropping down in the chair next to Hannah at the table.

“Could be either one. But it means that he’s moving quickly, and that gives us less time to try to find him.”

“You said there were two things,” Hannah prompted.

“Yes. The video of his attack. He didn’t wear a camera when he took Sara Lauter. Or if he did, he didn’t have success sending it. But I’m guessing it was the former. Somehow filming the murder isn’t enough. He needs more.”

“Which is why you say he’s escalating. Whatever his fantasy, it most definitely involves a need to get one over on authority figures. He wants validation.”

“And we’re fulfilling that need.”

“Exactly. Although in point of fact, it’s the FBI he’s making grandstands for. You guys are just professors as far as he’s concerned.”

“Well, that’s par for the course for us,” Hannah said. “The whole idea is that no one knows who we really are.”

“Except the Consortium,” Drake sighed.

Tracy looked askance, and Hannah shrugged. “They’re a lot like the killer. Always one step ahead. Taunting us with their ability to stay under the radar. So far we’ve been able to avert the worst of their activities, but we’re not even close to shutting them down. It’s like fighting a terminator. They just keep coming back.”

“Well, everyone makes mistakes sooner or later,” Tracy said. “Even the most talented unsubs. And if I had to put money on it, I’d pick you guys against any organization, no matter how good they are at covering their tracks. Anyway, bottom line here,” her gaze moved to the scene, “whatever the stressor that started all of this, broadcasting the kill isn’t enough anymore. He needs to feel like he’s manipulating everything. That he’s calling all the shots.”

“I thought Madison was the profiler,” Drake said with a crooked smile.

Tracy laughed, the levity at odds with the situation. But sometimes it was the only way to stay sane. “I’m a fast learner. And you can’t hang around with people like Madison and Harrison and not pick up a thing or two.”

“So you were working with them when his sister died?” Hannah asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

“Yeah,” Tracy said, sobering. “I was a consultant for the FBI at the time. Still am, actually. So I work a lot of their cases. I was there when they found Bree.”

“I can’t even imagine what that must have been like.” Hannah sat back, watching the other woman. “Losing a sibling. A twin to boot.”

“He told you about it?” Her dark eyes widened in surprise.

“He sort of had to,” Drake said. “With everything that’s been happening, it was crucial to bring us up to speed. And since this guy seems to be doing a pretty good imitation of the cyber killer, that meant telling us about Brianna. He’d never mentioned any of it before, though.”

Tracy shrugged. “For such a genial guy, Harrison’s not big on sharing.”

That was something Hannah could understand. “Sometimes the past is just better off staying buried.” She hadn’t meant to say the words out loud, but then they thought she was still talking about Harrison.

“Until it comes back to bite you in the butt,” Drake said. “Anyway, I’m sorry he’s having to relive all of this. And when we get our hands on this bastard…” he trailed off with a shrug.

“I’m just glad that Harrison landed in a good place. He’s been through a lot. And I don’t think he’s ever really found somewhere where he felt like he really belonged.”

“But I thought he and Madison…” Hannah broke off, embarrassed to have asked the question.

“They were close. Really close,” Tracy said. “I’m not sure he could have gotten through it all without her help. But they were never more than friends, if that’s what you’re implying. To be honest, after what happened to Bree, I don’t think Harrison is capable of having that kind of relationship. He’s just lost too much to ever be able to give like that again.”

It wasn’t anything Hannah didn’t already know, and yet, she was surprised at how much the thought hurt. Maybe it was hearing it from someone else. Or maybe she’d been holding out some small hope that… She shook her head, angry at herself for even considering the idea. Harrison was her friend. And she was lucky to have that. People like her were too dysfunctional for anything more. Isn’t that what the social worker had drilled into her head all those years ago?

“Well, I’m living proof it’s possible,” Drake was saying, the words pulling her from her thoughts. “If you’d have told me a couple of years ago that I’d wind up with an amazing wife and a baby on the way, I’d have told you to go screw yourself. If I can find that kind of happiness—believe me, anyone can.”

Hannah stared down at her hands, trying not to let Drake’s words turn personal. She was letting the emotions of the past few days get to her. They needed to find this guy and stop him, then everything would go back to normal.

“I see Drake is emoting about the glories of married life again,” Simon said, as he and Avery walked into the room.

“Hey,” Drake said, his smile widening, “don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”

“No, thank you.” Simon shook his head, while Tracy laughed. “I’m just fine with love ’em and leave ’em, believe me. As far as I’m concerned, permanence is highly overrated.”

“You and me both,” Hannah said, forcing a laugh. “So how did it go with the suspects?”

“It was a wash,” Avery said, his frustration evident in his expression. “The first guy had an airtight alibi. And the second is so old he can barely breathe. So we’ve still got nothing.”

“Madison and Harrison are batting zero, too,” Drake said, pushing away from the table. “So far there’s nothing on the latest video to help us ID where he’s keeping the girl.”

“And every minute that goes by it’s less likely that we’ll find Jasmine alive.” Avery frowned, his gaze moving to Tracy. “You almost done here?”