Serial Games (Virginia Justice Book One) (18 page)

“What do you mean?” Brandon held out a lemonade.

“Thank you.” Maggie accepted the drink. “I was just thinking out loud.”

“What are you thinking?” He took a sip of the lemonade, scanned the mass, and then settled his gaze on her.

Maggie let out a frustrated breath. How could she explain?

“Take a sip, then talk.”

She followed his suggestion, raised her eyebrows at the sweet flavor of the lemonade, and then refocused. She looked up, her brows knitted. “Have you ever gotten the feeling perhaps you’re on the wrong path?”

“If you are referring to Burrows, my gut tells me he’s still here in the area.”

“No, I don’t mean that,” she said. “The feeling is hard to explain, but this whole scenario is just not right. Perhaps I misinterpreted something in my notes on Burrows.”

“Because we haven’t caught him yet? You didn’t miss anything. He’s here — we know he’s manipulating us, but we’ll catch him.” His voice held a level of determination she didn’t feel.

Maggie nodded slowly.

“Don’t start second-guessing yourself. That’s when we start making mistakes.”

“Right, I know.” In the last few days, she’d been so wrapped up in Brandon and finding Burrows, she had little time to consider her fear of not succeeding. Somehow, with Brandon’s confidence, her fear no longer mattered. “I’m just concerned no one is missing yet. Don’t get me wrong, I’m relieved,” she hurried on to say, “but I expected him to continue where he left off, and so far nothing.”

“That can be a good thing.” Brandon’s eyes narrowed as he looked over her.

What was he thinking? He must have decided something because he relaxed and gazed back at her. The look warmed her.

“Don’t doubt yourself, Margaret. I don’t.” A hand rested on her arm. “You said he’d show up, and so he will.”

Maggie smiled. Her anxieties eased, and her arm tingled from his touch. His confidence in her lessened her insecurities. And just like that, he was in her good graces again. “Thank you.”

Brandon dropped his hand. His brows bushed as he continued to study her with shadowed eyes. He turned his back to her, sipped the lemonade and watched the crowd. Maggie resisted the urge to knock him upside the head. His mood swings were aggravating. Maggie pivoted in the opposite direction and strode up Main Street. “Let’s visit Sally Mayes’s table. It’s several blocks from the movie theater.”

Both silently made their way south on Main Street. Navigating their way through the crowd took time, but eventually the mass thinned and they could walk without being bounced around like balls in a Ping-Pong game. Just past the movie theater, a row of tables displayed fresh tomatoes, corn on the cob, and other fruits and vegetables. Maggie examined the crowd when Deckker’s voice came over the radio.

“Brandon, Maggie. Just got word from a uniform who saw a man matching Burrows’s description in a tan jacket, heading north on Main Street.”

“Anything else about him?” Brandon responded.

“He was seen looking around and keeping away from the main crowd.”

“Great. Thanks, Deckker. Did you get that, Maggie?” he asked.

“I did.” Maggie searched the crowd as they continued toward Sally Mayes’s table. “I’m not seeing anyone in a tan jacket.”

“Me neither.”

Sally greeted them with a wide smile. Her face flushed with heat, she shook out her shirt and let out a breath. “Whew, it’s hot today, isn’t it? Are you two enjoying yourselves? We’ve been busy all morning with barely a break. I’ve loved every minute of it, though.”

“Sally, you haven’t seen anyone in a tan jacket, have you?” Maggie kept her voice low. She didn’t want to alarm anyone and set off a panic.

“In this heat? They would stand out for sure. But to answer your question, no. Why?” She leaned in and her eyes widened. “Is he here?”

“We haven’t seen him,” Brandon rushed to say. “Just a man matching his description, not confirmed, so I wouldn’t worry. There are plenty of officers around so you’re safe.” He gave her arm a gentle squeeze. He touched his earpiece and turned away to speak in a low tone. Maggie heard another team in her earpiece.

Sally nodded and brushed damp hair away from her forehead. “Good. Did you say a tan jacket?” Her eyes searched the throng frantically.

Maggie stepped forward and clutched Sally’s forearms. “Sally? Sally, don’t worry.” Sally blinked. Her breathing steadied as her gaze rested on Maggie. “We have everything under control,” Maggie said firmly.

Sally exhaled slowly. She nodded. “I know, I know.” She licked her lips and placed an unsteady hand over her heart.

“Good. Now relax and enjoy the day, okay? Looks like you have a lot of customers here.” Maggie glanced around the table, crowded with onlookers.

Sally offered a weak smile.

When Brandon faced them again, he moved forward to say something to Sally. Maggie heard his voice but couldn’t make out the words. The hairs on her neck stood up. Maggie pivoted and scanned the crowd. Her eyes caught a flash of tan and dark hair.

“There.” She pointed and rushed forward.

“Maggie.”

She heard Brandon call her name but she didn’t stop. She bobbed and weaved, trying to keep her eyes on the dark head as it moved further and further away.

“Maggie!”

“I’m heading south on Main Street passing the State Theater. Tan jacket, dark hair spotted on the east side of the street,” she said into the radio and continued her pursuit. She excused herself as she pushed past people. The man’s path appeared unobstructed and he rapidly put distance between them. Maggie gritted her teeth and nudged forward. Suddenly, a tall woman blocked her path and without apology, Maggie pushed her to the side. The lady yelled out an expletive but it fell on deaf ears. Maggie’s head swiveled from left to right.

No tan jacket.

“Where is he?” Brandon came up behind her.

“I…I lost him.”

“Charlie team, Alpha,” Brandon spoke into his microphone. “We’re on Main and Stevens Street. Have you picked up the target?”

“Alpha team, this is Charlie. That’s a negative. No tan jacket.”

“Perhaps I didn’t—”

“Don’t. You saw him. He just got away.” Brandon pulled her toward him to keep people from bumping into her. His hands grasped her elbows and hers rested on his biceps. Maggie felt secure with him, the jostling of the crowd no longer misaligning her balance.

“Alpha team, this is Charlie. Caught sight of the tan jacket, but lost him. We’re going to circle around West Scanlon.”

“Echo team. Alpha,” Brandon answered. “Converge on Locust Street and meet up with Charlie.”

“Echo team, roger that.”

“Let’s head back to Sally’s table,” Brandon suggested. “West Street loops around that group of vendors.” He squeezed her elbows and took her hand in his.

Brandon easily maneuvered in the crowd. Maggie kept her eyes on his broad back, but resisted the urge to lay a hand on it. When the multitude thinned, his fingers loosened and Maggie removed her own from his heat. She slipped both hands in the back pockets of her jeans. Brandon spotted Echo team and the four of them exchanged notes. Echo team confirmed the spotting of a man with dark hair in a tan jacket, but they didn’t get a glimpse of his face and couldn’t verify his identity.

Maggie turned away from the three men and her eyes caught a glimpse of a dark head. No tan jacket. Shoppers in the area obstructed most of him from her view. As a few people in front of the man crossed paths, Maggie was given a split second window to see him. Dark eyes stared back at her. Maggie’s heart stopped and her breath ceased. The area cleared and the man was gone.

****

Brandon put an arm up to hide the yawn he had been fighting the last hour. The fair had ended hours ago, and the last of the day shift surveillance teams had turned in for the night. After he briefed the night shift, he turned to make his way toward Maggie. She sat there, her head resting on her table.

He stopped and smiled. Earlier he urged her to get some sleep. There hadn’t been many instances when they were able to escape the heat from the sun. She refused, declared her health fine and said she wanted to write up the day’s events before retiring. He couldn’t stop her if he wanted to. Her determination matched his own, and he respected her.

With a pang of guilt, he recalled her looks of confusion and frustration early that morning. Everything was happening too fast. The more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to be with her. He laughed more with Maggie in these last few days than he had in he couldn’t remember how long. He frowned. He owed her an explanation for his behavior but the words eluded him. His heart couldn’t let go of the anger he harbored over Emily’s death.

He pulled a chair toward her and sat down. She bolted upright; she trembled and her breath came out rapidly. It startled Brandon and with his hands on her forearms, he turned her to face him.

“Are you all right? Did you have a nightmare?” he whispered.

“I must have dozed off…”

Maggie’s bottom lip trembled and she struggled to keep her emotions at bay. She shrugged off his hands and ran hers through her loose hair. He watched her close her eyes and breathe in deeply. After a moment, she steadied and slowly opened her eyes.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” She didn’t look okay. The sooner he got her up to her room and into bed, the better.

“I haven’t had that dream in over a year.” Her voice shook, but her eyes held his. What did she fear?

Brandon leaned in and took her hands in his. “What dream?”

She looked down, swallowed, and then looked back at him. Her eyes spoke of an inner debate. Could he blame her if she refused to explain? After all, he fought her attempts to know him. Brandon understood if she remained silent, but knowing she was the talkative type, he hoped she’d remain true to her nature.

“The last time I was here, before we caught Burrows, I had this dream I couldn’t shake. I was running in the dark on the road…I think near his home.” Maggie ran a hand through her hair again, and expelled a short breath. She placed her hand back in his. “Anyway, something was chasing me. I don’t know what it was, but it wanted me. And no matter how fast I ran, it was there, right on my heels. I’d always wake the second before I knew it would catch me.”

A shot of fear pierced him. The thought shook him to his core. He hadn’t felt angst for a woman since Emily lay dying on the pavement, miles away from him. But Maggie sat safe and secure, directly in front of him. He filled his lungs with refreshing air and exhaled deeply. “Maggie, nothing is going to happen to you. It was just a night terror. I’m sure it will pass.”

Maggie smiled weakly. “Thank you, but until Burrows is safely locked away at Wallens Ridge, I don’t think my subconscious will dream of anything but him.” She laughed humorlessly. “It’s ironic I dream of him chasing me, and I’m the one doing the chasing.”

“But you said you didn’t know who or what was chasing you in your dream.” He gently kneaded her palms; he took pleasure in the feel of her grip around his hands. He wanted to draw out all the agitation from her, to ease her anxiety and tell her again not to worry. The look of dread in her eyes killed the words dead in his throat.

“I know, but who else could it be?”

“A fear you have, perhaps? Something you haven’t faced?” A long shot, but they both knew her dream resulted from the stress and anxiety of the investigation.

“I think the only fear I have now is Burrows never being caught. For him to be free to prey on any woman.” Her eyes searched his, and Brandon stilled his heart. Her gaze threatened to pierce his soul. She knew something — something important — and her look implored him to speak of it first. But he couldn’t read minds and didn’t know what she could possibly want him to say.

A tendril of hair fell across her lovely copper-colored cheek. Brandon reached a hand up and gently smoothed it back behind her ear. His fingers lingered at the tip of her earlobe. “You have nothing to prove, Margaret. All of this — Burrows’s escape, him evading capture again — none of that is on you.” She shuddered at his touch, and his heart responded with increasing palpitations. Her eyes grew warm, and he could sense a shift in the air between them. His gaze dropped to her full lips. They called to him, and he wanted to answer with his own.

Brandon moved the chair back suddenly and stood. His action caused Maggie to jump in her chair. He felt a buzz in his back pocket and pulled his phone out. His father.
Divine interruption
. Brandon wanted more time to reassure Maggie of his faith in her — with his kiss. “I need to take this call, and you should get some rest. We’ll start early tomorrow back at Burrows’s home.”

A restrained look of fury crossed her features. Both of them knew what had just happened, or almost happened, and both knew who had put a stop to it. She rose slowly from the chair, with dignity, and without a word, marched out of the room.

Brandon groaned and put the phone to his ear. “Hi, Dad.”

“Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“No, no. How are you?” Brandon’s heart lifted at the sound of his father’s voice. The one thing he knew he could count on, besides his ability to recapture fugitives, was his father’s weekly call.

“Never better, son. The question is how are you? I saw a news report about Burrows’s escape. I’m sure you are in charge of the operation to apprehend him?”

Brandon breathed out, the weariness of a long day finally hitting him. “Yeah, yeah, that’s right, Dad.”

His father cleared his throat. A sign he was about to introduce a difficult topic. “I saw a picture of the FBI profiler they’ve assigned to the investigation.”

“Yup.”

“She’s quite beautiful.”

Brandon eased himself into a chair, his eyes on the last place he saw her. The door. He sighed. “Yeah, she is, Dad. Very beautiful.” Before his father could respond, Brandon found himself continuing. “She’s different, Dad…different from Emily. You would like her, I think. She’s intelligent, funny, has a tight family, church girl. Your type of person.” He couldn’t stop the bitterness that laced his voice.

“I’m sure I would, son. But, you are the type of person I love. You think you’ve given up, but you are a fighter, like I’ve always taught you to be. You just need to figure out what you want to fight for.”