Serial Games (Virginia Justice Book One) (12 page)

“You okay?”

Brandon’s question broke her concentration. “Huh?” She continued to stare into the woods.

“What are you looking at?”

Nothing. She was looking at nothing.

****

Maggie sighed as the elevator doors at the hotel opened. She stepped inside. Brandon followed. Both stood in opposite corners of the small space. Neither of them had spoken on the way back to the hotel, and Brandon knew why. She expected an apology. And he knew he should give it.

Brandon dipped his head and gripped the railing behind him. Because they were partners, he should’ve been more civil. Instead of allowing professionalism to be the lenses of his judgment, he succumbed to the emotions of his pride. Burrows was proving smarter than Brandon ever gave, or would give, him credit for. He had plans Brandon wasn’t privy to and until Maggie could uncover them, they would need to rely on skills learned after years of working and performing on the job.

Brandon looked up. Maggie gazed at the buttons on the panel. He wished he could read her thoughts.

“I’m sorry.” His voice sounded hoarse. Brandon put a hand to his forehead. His mind swam with haze and his muscles burned with overuse. Even his stomach growled and it was past midnight.

Maggie turned to him, her eyes wide.

“Maggie, I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have implied you weren’t doing your job. It was wrong of me. I guess this hunt is really getting to me.”

Maggie nodded and turned back to the buttons.

Brandon’s jaw tightened at the attention she gave the console. “The silence is deafening.”

She looked up then. Her eyes remained unreadable except for a shadow of something he couldn’t make out. That unknown could irritate him if he left it alone.

“What is it? Maggie?”

Maggie tilted her head to the side, a sudden opposition in her eyes. Anticipating a struggle, Brandon gripped the rails until his knuckles ached.

“Nothing.”

Her voice was smooth as silk. She had closed off. She wouldn’t discuss the apology, whether or not she forgave him, or even nit-pick his earlier behavior. She was mature and kind, but now Brandon could see the wall she erected: a protective barrier between them. His emotions might be overly involved in the case, but it suddenly occurred to Brandon she had feelings for him.

Brandon grinned slowly.

****

That grin caused Maggie’s heart to stop. Not from an attraction to the undeniably handsome man before her, but from fear. With a hunter’s look in his eyes, and the knowing smile on his face, Maggie knew he was ready to chase.

Maggie didn’t understand what could have possibly triggered such a reaction in him. Granted, he was a marshal and probably lived to chase bad guys — always looked for the next criminal, almost praying one would break out of prison so he could catch him.

But her? Why did he want to chase her? Their argument at the scene of the burnt car was hardly pleasant. She had even gotten in his face and refused to back down. He might be sorry for his actions but did he harbor ill feelings toward her?

Maggie recalled how close Deckker stood next to Brandon when she mentioned the vehicle likely linked to Burrows. Maggie bit her lip. She also recalled how Brandon didn’t edge away from her either. He sat in the chair, relaxed, and un-intimidated. Brandon was a hunter and Deckker was a huntress. They would work well together, not only on the job but also in life.

However, his eyes didn’t look at Deckker the way he stared at her now. With Deckker, he appeared rather indifferent, perhaps unwilling to show his true intentions. If that were the case, why did she feel so cornered? As if she were the prey? Why did the intensity in his gaze evoke a heat from deep within her that threatened to override her rationality and force her to him?

Maggie licked her dry lips. The thought of being in his arms in a small elevator caused her to blush. She cleared her throat and turned to stare at her reflection in the shiny metal of the elevator console.

For a brief second, she considered Doug.
Poor guy
. He was over the moon for Deckker, but Deckker went out of her way to make it clear she didn’t want to know he existed. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she remembered how he asserted himself in Brandon’s presence.
Good for him
. She didn’t see his campaign for Deckker’s affections going anywhere but Doug still had her vote.

Maggie’s eyes slowly traveled the width of the elevator door until they found Brandon’s reflection in the mirrored panels that lined the inside of the car. Broad shoulders rippled down to muscular biceps that contracted with the force he used to grip the rail behind him.

She needed to assert herself now; set the boundaries.

“I’m going to go over some of the documentation the district attorney’s office faxed us to see if I might be able to find the missing link that enabled Burrows to escape custody.”

Brandon’s eyes narrowed. Obviously business wasn’t what he wanted to hear, and how easily he could read her discomfort troubled her. He had an uncanny knack for interpreting her body language. What did that mean? Whatever it meant, she didn’t have the time to analyze it now. She straightened her shoulders. “Knowing who helped him escape can perhaps shed some light on his next move.”

Brandon’s level stare remained.

Ok, he’s not buying it. Regardless, I refuse to fall
…

“Do you forgive me?”

“What?” The question about forgiveness startled her. He had apologized but she wasn’t interested in discussing it. All she wanted to do was wash the smoke out of her hair and crash. It was going on midnight…or past it; she had lost track of time.

In one stride, he was in front of her, one arm around her waist; the other guided her chin up. His lips were warm and smooth as they glided over hers. He pulled back and disappointment filled Maggie at the loss of his heat. She stared into the dark thunderstorm that whirled in his eyes.

“Do you forgive me?” His hoarse voice rumbled through to her inner core.

The elevator bell chimed. Startled, Maggie nearly jumped at the ring. She turned to the console. Her numbered floor was illuminated.

“Saved by the bell.” He released her.

Maggie couldn’t resist looking at him. His eyes were veiled, but the confident smirk had returned. As the elevator doors opened, Maggie wondered who would be the more difficult challenge to overcome: Burrows or Brandon?

“So, I guess we’ll do that surveillance tomorrow.” He repositioned himself on the opposite side of the car.

“Uh, yeah sure.”

Maggie swiftly exited the car and made her way to her door, directly across from the elevator. She held her room key card above the swipe lock. She looked back. Brandon had moved to lean against the middle of the compartment. He stared at her evenly. The doors slowly shut and the chime of the elevator signaled its movement downward.

Brandon ripped open the top of a packet of creamer and it spilled on his fingers. With a breath of frustration, he tipped the rest of the liquid into his coffee mug. He grabbed a stirring stick and whisked the coffee. Morning had come too soon. He should have gone to bed as soon as Bernie took over the midnight shift but his blood still coursed with adrenaline from his kiss with Maggie. Ignoring Bernie’s advice, Brandon waited until the pounding blood in his ears faded. That was his first mistake.

His second was allowing his mind to dwell on the lovely FBI profiler. He barely knew her, yet his infatuation with her increased at an accelerated pace. He’d spent the last five years disciplining his mind to focus on anything other than women and now he found it difficult to not want her attention, especially after their confrontation at the scene of the roasted car. Brandon grimaced as he remembered the way he had spoken to her. She didn’t have to forgive him, but she did, a testament to her maturity. If they hadn’t amicably progressed past their disagreement, working together could get tedious real fast.

The elevator
.

What exactly did he hope to accomplish? Did he think she was comfortable enough to open up to him? Did he want to know her thoughts? Brandon had found it tough to keep his own mouth shut. An intense desperation to be direct with her, to come right out and admit something was growing between them, nearly overtook him in the elevator. If it had, it would have been a mistake. What would have been the point? After Emily, there was no one else. There would be no one else. The one woman he loved was taken from him, and the pain had shattered his heart — and his trust in a benevolent God. Brandon would never allow himself to fall for a woman again; that would give God the chance to prove that once again, He was a tyrant.

Then he kissed her.

And held her.

Maggie’s coldness to him after they arrived at the hotel last night didn’t help his decision to keep his heart — or his lips — under lock and key. He recalled her clipped responses in the elevator. After their kiss, however, he knew she’d forgiven him. He could read it in her eyes, warm and rich as deep amber. If only her room was a few more floors up. Maggie had raced out of the elevator with a terror on her heels. Brandon’s lip twitched in subdued anger. A woman never ran from his kiss.

Brandon sipped his coffee and groaned after the hot liquid burned his tongue. He took a seat at a nearby table and drew his notes closer. As he sat his cup down, he caught a glimpse of Agent Deckker as she walked into the room.

Brandon looked down. He sensed an attraction from Deckker. Last night, she kept herself busy, but it wasn’t lost on him the number of times she managed to speak to him. She had let down her ponytail, flipped her hair a few times, and smiled plenty. Doug fumed in one corner and shot fire-darts at Brandon with his eyes. Brandon heaved a breath and kept his attention on the pages in front of him.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning, Agent Deckker.” Brandon looked up. She smiled coyly. The acid in his stomach burned as his level of irritation rose. How come Maggie didn’t smile at him that way?
What am I, a child? You decided to keep things professional, remember?
Brandon forced his stomach to calm itself and removed thoughts of Maggie from his mind.

“Going over notes?” Agent Deckker inquired sweetly.

“Yeah.” Brandon looked down again.

“Anything new?”

His head snapped up at the new voice.

Maggie
.

Brandon’s pulse increased as his eyes refused to leave her form. Her dark hair hung loosely around her shoulders in soft waves, her eyes bright and clear without any recognition of last night’s tense encounter in the elevator. She wore a sunny yellow blouse, which set off the honey color of her skin. She shone like a beacon or…
a halo
. Brandon short-circuited his imagination, and willed his heart to beat at a normal pace.

“Actually, there is.” He abruptly rose from his chair and the women followed him as he made his way across the room to a television/video cassette recorder combination. He snatched up a tape beside the system, checked the label, and then inserted it. Turning the television on by remote, the word “play” appeared on the screen. Brandon stood, legs spread, arms crossed. “Burrows was spotted at another gas station. We picked this videotape up yesterday from the gas station off Route 677. There’s something I want you to see.”

Maggie inched slowly toward him, her eyes fixated on the screen as the black-and-white video of the store played. Brandon inhaled deeply and his senses reeled from her soft floral fragrance.
Now this has got to stop
. He fingered the cross on his neck.

John Michael Burrows casually entered the gas station, walked around the perimeter of the aisles first, before he wandered each one individually.

“What is he doing?” Deckker asked.

“I don’t know,” Maggie whispered, uncertainty in her voice.

Burrows neither picked anything up to purchase, nor fingered any item — that the camera recorded. Then, he leisurely strolled to stand beneath the mounted camera. He looked directly into the lens. His lips moved upward to show a full-toothed grin. Brandon paused the video.

“That’s essentially the meat of it. A few seconds later, he leaves the store.”

Maggie then turned to him, with a question in her eyes.

“What are you thinking?” Brandon breathed quietly.

Her mouth opened slightly and she paused as she considered her words. “I’m wondering why he would deliberately leave evidence of his trail for us. Some serial killers kill for the game but that game is usually between them and their target. They want to know if they can succeed in victimizing someone. At times they kill for the attention and the thrill of possibly being caught. A cops-and-robbers scenario. Burrows didn’t fall into the latter category.” She turned back to the screen, brows creased, mouth twisted in discomfort. “His smile doesn’t reach his eyes, so it isn’t entirely genuine, and it’s hard to distinguish in black and white but the squinting of his eyes would suggest he is hiding something. Something he doesn’t want us to see yet. However, he wants us to know there is something.”

“He’s toying with us. Still.”

Maggie shrugged but nodded. “He’s taunting us, yes, but to what end?” She asked the rhetorical question as she stepped closer to the video. Her eyes squinted at the smile.

“Why is he doing this?” Agent Deckker pointed at the paused screen. “I mean, look at him. It’s like some cartoon character; it’s sick.”

“Well, that’s something we’ll need to figure out, but at least we know the motive behind his actions now. Before, he killed because of his mother, and now…” Maggie’s voice trailed.

“Let’s just hope he hasn’t selected a new target.” Brandon clicked off the television. He handed Maggie the remote and their fingers brushed. Heat shot through his hand and his reaction infuriated him. “Look, I have a meeting with the mayor to prep for. You can watch the rest of this if you want. Keep me updated.” He caught a glimpse of Maggie’s startled reaction as he moved away. Sure, he was a little gruff with her, but anything to keep his distance.