Authors: CALLE J. BROOKES
Chapter
3
8
****
Georgia swallowed. She hadn
’
t expected that. She
should
have realized he would turn it around. Hell always took control, even in situations where he didn
’
t feel comfortable. Especially in situations where he didn
’
t feel comfortable. She knew that. She studied his eyes, searching for the truth in the dark blue. A hint of vulnerability had her softening, visible around his eyes and mouth.
Hellbrook never showed vulnerability. Most certainly not to her.
“
Why now? What has changed
?
”
He stepped closer, forcing her to look up at him.
“
I don
’
t think it
’
s changed that much
.
”
“
You
’
ve made no secret of how you felt about me. This-this is so different
.
”
“
You know what I remember about the first time I saw you
?
”
He had his hands around her waist, had pulled her body against his. She let him
, snuggled against him for just a minute
.
“
What
?
”
“
How
together
you were. How your teammates looked at you for leadership. How well you fit with them. How neat and sophisticated you looked
.
How beautiful.
”
“
You hated me. As soon as you realized who my father was
.
”
“
I disliked your father, I
’
ll admit it. But my first thought seeing you was that I wanted you. Th
en
I wanted to see if I could shake you up. That had never happened to me before. Not that quickly. And then I realized who your father was. And it pissed me off that I wanted Dennis
’
s daughter that much. Talk about a kick to the balls
.
”
“
Six months and you
’
ve said nothing about it
?
”
A knock on the door stalled her from answering. Agent Jones stood in the door, a slightly embarrassed look on his face. Georgia knew he
’
d heard their words. She fought the urge to hide her face behind Hell
’
s shoulder. The Bismarck police station was really not the place for this type of personal discussion.
“
Yes
?
”
“
The
guy
’
s ready. Should we lead him in now
?
”
The man avoided looking at her and Georgia appreciated his discretion.
“
Please. Georgia, we
’
ll table this. But we will discuss it later. I promise
.
”
It didn
’
t sound like a threat, was infused with an intimacy that twisted her stomach.
Jones led the UNSUB into the interrogation room and secured him to the table. They left him there for ten minutes while they discussed what they knew of the man. Thirty-seven years old, Travis Byrum worked as a truck driver for a bulk food company. His route included stops in both states in the geographical area. He
’
d had prior arrests for civil disobedience, destruction of property, and trespassing. These had morphed into sexual battery and assault and finally kidnapping and murder? Sometimes it was hard to fathom.
Byrum refused to look at Hellbrook, instead focusing on Georgia the entire time. His gaze burned over her skin.
“
I
’
ve seen you before
.
”
He tilted his head to study her, much like a small dog would do. This man liked to play games. Georgia studied him back.
“
Yes. You have. Outside the diner in Carterville, I believe
.
”
Georgia kept her tone level.
“
We never did get to finish our conversation that day
.
”
“
Your boyfriend interrupted
.
”
Byrum shot a mildly nasty look at Hellbrook where he stood against the door.
“
He has a habit of that,
”
Georgia said, just as mildly.
“
What was it you wanted to talk about
?
”
“
You reminded me of someone, that
’
s all
.
”
Byrum dragged in a deep breath.
“
Claire Reid
?
”
Georgia put a snapshot of the school teacher on the table between them. He looked at it, his breath stopping for a telling moment. It was only a subtle, split-second moment, but Georgia caught it. He knew her. She shot a look at Hellbrook. He nodded for her to continue.
“
I have to admit there is some resemblance between us. Both petite, both dark haired
.
”
She waited a moment before continuing.
“
Of course, you knew she was dead when you approached me
.
”
It wasn
’
t a question. His face went blank, his eyes now empty.
“
I don
’
t know what you mean. I don
’
t know that woman
.
”
Byrum looked away, his words mild and dismissive.
“
Yes, you do. I
’
ll read an email a friend of mine found. You
’
ll remember this friend
—
she
’
s the redhead you tossed over that cliff
.
”
Byrum jerked his attention back to her.
“
A redhead
?
”
“
Yes. You remember. She was alone in the woods, separated from her partner. You hit him with a large branch
.
”
Byrum
’
s eyes remained blank. This guy was good, Georgia had to admit.
“
I wasn
’
t in any woods yesterday, I was en route
.
”
Byrum smirked.
“
You can call my company
.
”
“
We will. Can I ask you a question? Why did you write this to Claire Reid?
‘
For a woman to express her desire for a man is ungodly, unholy, and leads them both into a sin they should for now and always be ashamed of?
’
Were you quoting someone, Travis
?
”
“
How did you get that? That was private
.
”
Byrum shifted in his seat, then glared at her.
“
A man has the right to privacy. It
’
s outlined in the Constitution
.
”
“
Actually, the Constitution doesn
’
t specifically mention the right to privacy anywhere. That idea has been derived from certain amendments. There is no such thing as a guaranteed right to privacy. And when Claire Reid was killed, it gave us all the right to go through her things. Once you sent this email to her
—
it became equally her property,
”
Hellbrook said.
“
Our property
.
”
“
So what were you intending when you...emailed this woman you
’
d never met
?
”
Georgia asked.
“
How did you get her email address
?
”
“
Message boards,
”
Byrum said.
“
We met online
.
”
“
What type of message board? And I thought you said you didn
’
t know her
?
”
Georgia already had the information. Carrie was extremely thorough, especially when it came to any communication related to a computer or the internet. Both Claire Reid and Travis Byrum were avid dog lovers, and had met on a pet lover
’
s message board. Claire had posted pictures of herself with her Labrador.
“
About dogs. What of it? Thousands, millions of people meet online every day, many over the subject of pets. Is that a crime
?
”
Byrum
’
s face was blank again.
“
Stoning a woman, and then strangling her to death is a crime. As is rape, molestation, kidnapping, and disposing of their bodies. Add in the arson, and assault on federal officers, Travis, you
’
re going away for a long time
.
”
Hellbrook took the third chair and turned it around, straddling it at the end of the table, between Byrum and Georgia
’
sides. It was a strong, masculine posture designed to outline the differences between his bold posing and Byrum
’
s cuffed and weaker position.
“
I didn
’
t assault any federal officers. I for damned sure didn
’
t burn anything
.
”
Still flat. Georgia ran over the signs mentally. He didn
’
t profess guilt, which wasn
’
t out of the norm. Most didn
’
t. But he showed no other reaction. To any of it. Even his spiel about privacy violation had been delivered in a monotone, as if they
’
d been discussing the weather. Either he was that good at hiding how he felt, or he felt nothing at all.
Classic sociopath, maybe? But that didn
’
t explain the rage she
’
d seen on his face when he was staring at Jules earlier. Rage because Jules had shot him? It would make sense. Still, the man who
’
d disregarded law-enforcement personnel and went on the offensive was a far cry from the man sitting in front of her.
Did he have that tight of a rein on his emotions? What made him snap?
“
But you knew Claire Reid, and you had a problem with her flirting. Who did she flirt with, Travis? You
?
”
Georgia asked. Now was the time for her to go on the aggressive, she knew it.
“
Why would that prove to be a problem for you? Don
’
t you want woman to flirt with you
?
”
“
She didn
’
t flirt with me
.
”
“
No? What about Maggie Evens? We know you were there at the store this morning. You made a delivery of frozen pizzas, remember? We
’
ve had several positive identifications. We know you saw Maggie flirting with Gavin. They were two young college kids teasing each other, yet you had a problem with that. Didn
’
t you
?
”
Georgia leaned in on her elbows, causing her shirt to dip provocatively. She wet her lips, looked up at Hellbrook, smiled suggestively. Hell smirked; he knew what she was doing, she was sure of it. She tossed her hair over one shoulder. She dropped her voice to a husky purr before turning back to Byrum.
“
Flirting bothers you, doesn
’
t it, Travis
?
”
Chapter
3
9
****
Watching the little witch flirt certainly bothered Hell. Even though they had worked out this plan before Byrum had been led in. It wasn
’
t that kind of bother, it was the kind where she was teasing him and he knew he couldn
’
t react on that teasing, not yet. Not in the way he wanted to. Hell dropped one hand to her shoulder, ran a finger over her neck. She shivered. He kept one eye on Byrum to judge the effect.
“
I think, princess, I think Travis was upset because Claire and Maggie and all the others weren
’
t flirting with
him
.
”
“
But why would they flirt with Travis? He
’
s so...unremarkable
.
”
Georgia smiled, the cold light of
bitch
in her eyes.
It was such a contrast to who Georgia was he was surprised she pulled it off as well as she did. Hell shifted in his chair, leaning toward her, willing to help her win this game.
“
Go on, princess. Tell me...more
.
”
“
We women know what we want. We want men who stand out. Who are gods among their peers
.
”
Her eyes flicked between Hell and Byrum and back. It was obvious who she felt was the more godlike man. Hell felt an uncomfortable tightening in his gut. He wished this little game was for real.
Byrum
’
s face darkened; it was a small change, but one that Hell
’
s training had him catching quickly.
“
Men are not gods,
”
Byrum said.
“
No? You don
’
t think someone like my...partner...here looks like the ancient gods? The Greeks or the Romans perhaps? I can see him as Hercules. He certainly looks the part
—
broad
shouldered, well
defined chest. Strong. All that copper hair that makes a woman want to run her fingers through it. Picture him outdoors, with a great tan going. Yep, definitely my idea of Hercules
.
”
It was a wicked little smile she shot at him this time.
“
How about it, Hell, want to dress in a toga? I
’
ll feed you...grapes
.
”
The little witch was enjoying this, Hell could see it in her dark eyes. And Byrum was falling for it. Breaking.
“
Only if you
’
ll dress in similar garb, princess. I can see you as the goddess Diana, you know
.
”
“
Oh, can you
?
”
Did she actually flutter her lashes at him? Hell swallowed a laugh.
“
Yes. Diana, Goddess of the Hunt. She was emblemized by a bow and arrow. She protected and provided for the weaker ones, including women, children, and slaves. And I bet she looked damned good in a stola. You would too, I bet
.
”
“
Oooh. I like that image. Me protecting the weaker ones
.
”
She cooed, bounced in her chair, a tiny little hop that had all of her feminine goods jiggling. Did that blue bra she wore not support everything?
Or was she even wearing it? Hell fought the urge to groan.
“
I can so totally see that
.
”
Now Hell understood the nickname
Dennis
the
Menace
.
“
Women who flirt are sluts,
”
Byrum said, pulling Hell
’
s attention. A shade difference in the other man
’
s tone told Hell that Georgia
’
s tactics may work. Hell kept his reactions nominal.
“
Everybody flirts
,
”
Georgia countered.
“
Even toddlers will smile at someone to get what they want. That
’
s a type of flirting
.
”
“
That
’
s sick
.
”
Byrum
’
s hands clutched the table edge until his knuckles turned white.
“
No. That
’
s reality
.
”
Georgia
’
s tone changed from coquette to psychologist in an instant.
“
Even animals flirt. Peacocks, dogs, and insects will flirt to attract a mate. Who told you flirting was bad
?
”
“
It is bad. Sluts. You
’
re a slut, too
.
”
“
Really? I
’
ve never been called a slut before. I
’
ll have to think about that,
”
Georgia said.
“
Flirting by definition is the attempt to attract a member of the opposite gender in order to perform the act of reproduction and or mating. Or to have
a
damned good time
.
”
“
We all do it
.
”
Hell nodded at his partner.
“
And some of us do it better than others
.
”
“
I
’
ll say,
”
Georgia purred.
“
Travis, did you know women fall all over my partner here? It
’
s somewhat annoying at times. We were at the Turn Around Bar the other night, and some blonde bimbo helped herself to my seat. Irritating. Then she had the nerve to lean over and show Hell her cleavage. Like this
.
”
Georgia leaned forward, enough to give Byrum the smallest hint of what lurked under her shirt. Hell was much more fortunate, getting a good view of the ice blue bra she
’
d worn at the hospital.
So she
was
wearing a bra.
Thank God she
’
d had it on under her hospital scrubs and it had survived the fire.
Hell suddenly loved blue silk.
Maybe he
’
d get a chance to see it again. He mentally shook himself, directing his attention back to the interview, as Georgia continued to speak.
He had never been this distracted before.
“
Is that how it feels to you, Travis, when someone is flirting with another man in front of you
?
”
“
Women shouldn
’
t behave like that
.
”
Byrum
’
s words came out nasal and pious. Byrum kept his focus on the woman in front of him.
Byrum
’
s
breathing had increased, only an increment. But it was another step in the direction they needed to lead him. Hell did his best to fade into the background for a moment.
“
Then how are they supposed to secure husbands? I
’
m sure a fine, devout man such as yourself agrees that marriage is the most sacrosanct union on this Earth
.
”
Georgia took a pencil from Hell to begin making notes. She let her hand linger on his. Hell grasped the feminine fingers and held them for a moment. She looked back at Byrum before pulling her hand back.
“
You don
’
t mind if I take notes, do you? I
’
m not married yet and I need all the help I can get if I can
’
t flirt. Husband-catching is a tough business and I
’
m not getting any younger, you know
.
”
“
For this cause shall a man leave father and mother, and shall cleave unto his wife, and they shall become one flesh. Matthew nineteen, five
.
”
Byrum said.
“
Parents should choose, and only then should a child leave their parents
’
house for adulthood
.
”
“
Excuse me? You honestly think a parent should choose the spouse of their child? Did that happen to you
?
”
Hell asked. Records hadn
’
t indicated a marriage for Travis Byrum anytime during the last decade. He
’
d been found in public records until his graduation from high school, when he
’
d disappeared off the grid, only to resurface five years earlier as part of a small church sixty-two miles from Carterville. The church leaders were known to protest everything from gambling to chemical fertilizers.
“
Yes
,
”
Byrum said.
“
You
’
re married? What
’
s her name
?
”
Georgia asked.
“
Theresa
.
”
He smiled and his eyes took on a spark that had Hell
’
s attention. The expression was smug, arrogant, and holier-than-thou.
“
How did you meet Theresa
?
”
Hell asked.
“
She was a neighbor. My parents knew her parents
.
”
“
How old were you and Theresa when you met
?
”
“
I was twelve. She was ten. We attended the same church
,
”
Byrum said.
“
Her family are good people, strong belief systems, like mine
.
”
“
Your adopted family? The Byrums. They adopted you at the age of nine, correct
?
”
Hell asked. His name had appeared in two of the lists Carrie had compiled. Once, as a child placed in social services and again as a repeat visitor to the emergency room in Bismarck. All visits occurred within a year of his being placed with his adoptive family.
“
How old were you when you married
?
”
Hell suspected they
’
d used corporal punishment mixed with old-fashioned brain-washing techniques to convince the child Travis to follow their beliefs exclusively. Unfortunately, that wasn
’
t unheard of.
“
They are my family, and they know what is best for me
,
”
Byrum said.
“
And I was seventeen when my parents arranged my marriage to Theresa
.
”
Hell frowned. Byrum was thirty-seven years old. Was he still taking direction from his adoptive parents, twenty years after he
’
d married? They
’
d been in their fifties when they had adopted him and were in their seventies now. From what they
’
d been able to ascertain, Byrum drove his truck during the weekdays, and spent his weekends with his parents and his adoptive siblings, of which he was the youngest. No mention was found of a wife, though the profile told them he would have one. Or had.
“
You
’
re a little too old to be taking direction from Mommy and Daddy, Travis. What happened to Theresa, your wife
?
”
“
Nothing. She is a godly woman
.
”
Byrum
’
s eyes watered and he reached with cuffed hands to wipe at first one then the other.
“
How so
?
”
Georgia asked.
“
What is your definition of a godly woman? Is she meek, mild-mannered? Good housekeeper and all that archaic bunk? Is Theresa forced to cook and clean and do nothing unless it reflects well upon you
?
”
“
You
’
re an ungodly woman. I can tell. Your type always reveals
.
”
He nodded so sanctimoniously that Hell fought the urge to snort. Judgmental. That fit with their profile, for sure. Had he watched those four young girls, Katherine Montehue, and the other victims all flirting and passed his sick sort of judgment? Unfortunately, that type of ideology was something Hell had seen before, on multiple occasions. Making Travis Byrum another typical serial murderer.