Power (35 page)

According to the law, the bureau was correct. Unless there was evidence of foul play or vulnerability to a crime, there was no action the bureau or any law enforcement agency could take. He knew this, but his cop instincts or his emotions, she hadn’t concluded which yet, wouldn’t let it go at that. And she did remember Griggs. He had served as Jefferson County sheriff for the past three decades.

“But you think there’s a connection that suggests this is not only criminal but also perhaps serial.” This wasn’t a question. He’d told her as much on the phone, but she needed to hear his conclusion again and to see what his face and eyes had to show about his words.

His call, just hearing his voice, had resurrected memories and feelings she’d thought long dead and buried. They hadn’t spoken since the summer after college graduation until ten years ago when they bumped into each other at the Publix in Hoover. Of all the grocery stores in the Birmingham area, how they’d ended up at the same one on the first holiday she’d spent with her family in years still befuddled her. He had been newly divorced from his second wife. Jess had been celebrating a promotion. A volatile combination when merged with the holiday mania and the nostalgia of their explosive history. The last-minute dessert she had hoped to grab at the market before dinner with her sister’s family had never made it to the table.

Jess hadn’t heard from him since. Not that she could fault his after-frantic-sex lack of propriety; she’d made no attempt at contact either. There had been no random shopping ventures since on her rare visits to Birmingham.

“There has to be a connection.” He surveyed the happy, carefree faces in the photos again. “Same age group. All attractive. Smart. No records, criminal or otherwise. Their entire futures—bright futures—ahead of them. And no one in their circle of family or friends saw a disappearing act coming.” He tapped the fourth girl’s photo. “I know Andrea Denton personally. There’s no way she would just vanish like this. No way.”

Two things registered distinctly as he made this passionate declaration. One, he wasn’t wearing a wedding band. Two, he didn’t just know number four personally. He knew her intimately on some level.

“Someone took her,” he insisted. “Someone took them all.” His expression softened a fraction. “I know your profiling reputation. If anyone can help us find these girls, it’s you.”

A genuine smile tugged at the frown Jess had been wearing most waking hours for days now. She had absolutely nothing to smile about, but somehow the compliment coming from him roused the reaction. “That might be a bit of a stretch, Chief.” Sitting here with him staring down at her so intently felt entirely too familiar… too personal. She stood, leveling the playing field. “And even the best can’t create something out of nothing and, unfortunately, that’s exactly what you appear to have so far.”

“All I’m asking is that you try. These girls”—he gestured to the files—“deserve whatever we can do.”

He’d get no argument from her there. “You know the statistics.” If they had in fact been abducted, the chances of finding one or more alive at this stage were minimal at best. The only good thing she could see was that they didn’t have a body.
Yet
.

“I do.” He dipped his head in a weary, somber move, emphasizing the grave tone of his voice.

Eventually she would learn the part he was leaving out. No one wanted to admit there was nothing to be done when anyone went missing, particularly a child or young adult. But this urgency and unwavering insistence that foul play was involved went beyond basic human compassion and the desire to get the job done. She could feel his anxiety and worry vibrating with escalating intensity.

“Will your counterparts cooperate?” Kicking a hornet’s nest when it came to jurisdiction would compound her already complicated situation. That she could do without. Once the news hit the public domain, there would be trouble enough.

“They’ll cooperate. You have my word.”

Jess had known Daniel Burnett her whole life. He believed there was more here than met the eye in these seemingly random disappearances. Unless emotion was somehow slanting his assessment, his instincts rarely missed the mark. More than twenty years ago he had known she was going to part ways with him well before she had recognized that unexpected path herself, and he had known she was his for the taking that cold, blustery evening in that damned Publix. She would lay odds on his instincts every time.

She just hadn’t ever been able to count on him when it came to choosing her over his own personal and career goals. As ancient as that history was, the hole it left in her heart had never completely healed. Even knowing that hard truth, she held her breath, waiting for what came next.

“I need your help, Jess.”

Jess
. The smooth, deep nuances of his voice whispered over her skin, and just like that it was ten years ago all over again.

Only this time, she would make certain they didn’t end up in bed together.

Agent Jess Harris’s nightmare continues in this terrifying novel in the Faces of Evil series.

See the next page for an excerpt from

Impulse

Monday, July 19, 10:31 a.m.

“Did you know that one drop of blood travels from the heart to the toes and back in under sixty seconds?”

Lori Wells tightened her fingers into fists, tugged futilely against the tape binding her to the chair, and forced herself to meet the son of a bitch’s eyes. “Did
you
know all that blood rushing through my veins at this very moment is teeming with the urge to watch you die?”

Eric Spears smiled, made a breathy sound that wasn’t quite a laugh. “You are such a brave girl, Detective Wells. I wonder if that’s because your father committed suicide when you were so young.” He inclined his head and stared at her as though memorizing each detail of her face like a lover intent on never forgetting the moment. “Did you have to help your mother clean up the blood afterward? Or did your neighbors jump in to help out?
Y’all do that down here in the South, don’t y’all?
”

Lori turned away from him.
Bastard.
How could he know so much about her? He hadn’t known her name five days ago.

A long-suffering sigh hissed past his lips. “You’re quite boring, Detective.” He stood. “What should I do about that?”

Renewed fear trickled inside her. Lori snapped her head up and stared into those piercing blue eyes.
No.
She would not give him the pleasure. She hardened her expression, refused to let him see the fissure of terror widening inside her.

“What’s wrong,
Eric
? Can’t get it up if I’m not crying like a scared little girl?”
Don’t let him gain control.

Fury tightened his lips. He drew back his hand.

She braced for the blow.

He laughed at her instinctive reflex. Dropped his hand to his side. “See, you are a scared little girl. Frankly, I find all that feigned bravado quite tedious.”

“Life sucks like that sometimes.”

He made a sound of agreement. “It does indeed.” For five or six seconds he deliberated as if undecided how he would proceed. “You know the reason you’re here. Why make our time together more unpleasant than necessary? It’ll be much easier for both of us if you cooperate, Lori
Doodle
.”

How dare he call her that! Her father had given her that nickname… This scumbag had no right. She didn’t need him or a GPS to show her where this was headed. “Go to hell.”

She wasn’t making this easy for him. He would kill her anyway.

Spears turned his back and strode across the room.

Lori quickly scanned the space now that the lights were on, searching for any aspect of her surroundings that might provide some hint as to where the hell she was.

The sedative he’d injected when he’d held her at gunpoint and forced her into his SUV had prevented her from assessing the distance or the traffic sounds as he’d driven her here. She still felt a little groggy. Her mouth was dry. She squared her shoulders, focused on clearing her head. She had to pay attention, to be ready for whatever came next.
Let your training and instincts guide you.

Focus, Lori.

A warehouse, she decided. An old one for sure. Smelled of neglect and vaguely of oil or grease. Brick walls soared some twenty or so feet to a ceiling where steel beams supported the roof. Naked fluorescent tubes glowed from metal fixtures suspended five or six feet overhead. The smell of disuse permeated the air. She tried to get a better look behind her. Couldn’t. Wooden crates lined the wall to her right, suggesting the warehouse had been used recently in some capacity. She squinted to read the word stamped on some of the crates…
Grimes
. She’d lived here all her life, but that name didn’t ring a bell.

Birmingham had its share of neglected and abandoned buildings… She’d been in a few but not this one. From her position in the middle of the large open room, she could see a door. Maybe an exit. Maybe just an office or bathroom.

One shot at that door was all she needed… if it wasn’t a dead end.

Images of what this monster had done to his other victims, all women, rolled like an old-fashioned filmstrip through her mind. Defeat chiseled away at her courage.

Spears grabbed the one remaining chair in the place and dragged it over to where she sat bound with duct tape, wrists, ankles, and waist, to a similar heavy metal chair. He scooted his chair close and straddled the seat, his spread knees flanking hers. She squeezed her legs more tightly together; didn’t want any part of him touching her. She didn’t even want to draw his scent into her lungs.

Like his subtle aftershave, his wardrobe conveyed an understated elegance. The navy suit jacket hadn’t come from a rack in any store where men she knew shopped. The white shirt was crisp and pristine like he’d just picked it up from the cleaner. The jeans fit as if they had been designed by his personal tailor. The icing on the cake—the definitive packaging for his classically attractive blond-haired, blue-eyed features.

If you want to know what evil looks like, look in the mirror.

Jess Harris had definitely gotten that right. Eric Spears, aka the Player, appeared nothing like the depraved killer Lori knew him to be. Why did he bother abducting women when he could easily charm them into his lair with that killer smile and deep, smooth voice?

The hunt. Somehow it fueled him… drove his heinous desires.

Lori wished she knew half what Jess did about him. Maybe then she could do more than be a damned victim.

Even before she’d met Jess, Lori remembered vividly hearing in the news that not a single one of the Player’s victims had ever escaped alive.

Her chest ached. She didn’t want to die. Her sister needed her. Her mother needed her. She took solace in the knowledge that at least they were safe. As soon as Chief Burnett and Jess discovered Lori was missing, they would take steps to protect her family.

And Chet Harper. Lori thought of the detective, the man who wanted so much more from her than she had given. Would she have continued to push him away if she had known this day was coming?

Spears chucked her under the chin, forcing her attention back to him. “Let’s get one thing straight, Detective. However much you test me, this isn’t about you,” he explained in that calm, clever tone that belied his every action.

“All your hard work to reach the esteemed rank of detective earlier than most means nothing to me.” He tugged at a lock of her hair, twirled it between his fingers. “That you are most attractive means nothing to me.”

Lori waited, her heart thudding with apprehension, for him to spell out exactly what he wanted from her besides her life.

“I brought you here so Jess will pay attention,” he whispered, leaning forward so that he lingered nose to nose with her. “You think I have her attention?”

Fear buffeting ever harder against her defenses, Lori steadied herself. She would not let him use her to get to Jess. No way.

I might be a victim but I will not be his means of reaching Jess.

“She told me all about you.” Lori forced a smile, inclined her head, and studied his face the way he had studied hers. “What happened? Did Mommy fail to protect you when Daddy decided he preferred you to her? Is that why you hate women so much?”

His hand went to her throat; strong fingers closed tightly, cutting off her airway. “Do not toy with me, Detective. There are things you will never know, so don’t waste your time and energy trying to analyze me. You’ll fail just like all the rest.”

There was nothing amiable about his tone now. The fear she fought to restrain dug its claws in deep even as he released her. She gasped for breath. Her thoughts raced in frantic circles. The things Jess had told her kept colliding with her own instincts.

Should she play his game or resist? What he did to her in the end wouldn’t change either way, but could she slow him down or trip him up by choosing one avenue over the other?

“Do you think I have her attention?” he repeated.

“Yes.” Lori cleared her throat, wished she had a drink of water. “I’m certain you have her attention.”

“That’s better,” he said softly. “Now, tell me about this Chief Daniel Burnett.”

She filled her lungs with a jagged breath, refused to let the fear maintain a stronghold. “What about him?”

“What’s his interest in Agent Harris?”

Lori cleared her mind.
Careful what you say.
Don’t give him any ammunition. “She’s a top-notch profiler and investigator. We needed her help on a case. Because of you she’s probably unemployed.” Anger at what he had done to Jess chased away some of the fear. He had ruined Jess’s career with the FBI.

“One does what one must. She created quite the commotion up in Richmond when she so kindly screwed up any chances of a conviction against me.” He lifted his shoulders in a shrug that communicated more arrogance than indifference. “Diverting attention was essential. Now the world is focused on her inept methods rather than the precise work of a master artist.” A smug chuckle rumbled from his throat. “Ironic, isn’t it?”