WATCHING (37 page)

“
That
’
s good to know
;
now..
.
”
Georgia
’
s voice had both men turning back toward the door. She stood there in the prim little navy suit she
’
d worn the first time they
’
d ever met. God, he wanted to peal her out of it. Always had. The expression on her face told him she probably wouldn
’
t allow it any time soon. Georgia did not like being discussed. Hell tried not to wince at the look in her dark eyes.
“
If you two are finished discussing my life and what pertains to it, breakfast is getting cold. And the briefing starts at nine. Our boss hates it when we
’
re late
.
”

Chapter
47

****

Monday morning
’
s briefing started like any other for Hell. Except this time he was more aware of Dennis
’
s daughter than he was of Dennis himself. Georgia sat on his left only because he
’
d sat down after she had. The scent of her perfume and the heat of her body served double duty to distract him from the purpose of the weekly meeting Dennis insisted each team attend. She
’
d said little to him on the drive in. And when he
’
d tried to explain about the discussion he
’
d had with her father she
’
d withdrawn.

“
Well done to Hellbrook and the CCU for their work in the Dakotas catching Travis Byrum
.
”
Dennis began the briefing with a recap as he always did. The director nodded in Hell
’
s direction, though his eyes didn
’
t linger on Hell
’
s.

He
ll
had a long way to go to mend that particular fence. But he would, if he intended for his relationship with Georgia to be a long-term one. This morning was only the first step.

There was nothing casual about having sex with Georgia. It wasn
’
t
about
sex with her. It was about having a connection to someone, someone who understood exactly who he was.

He wanted that with Georgia Dennis. He wanted what he
’
d had this morning—minus the visit from her father, of course. He wanted to wake beside her every morning, to watch as she fixed her son breakfast. He wanted to go home with her every night, to worry about bath time and about earaches, about bedtime stories and bad dreams. He wanted what came after the kid went to bed; he wanted to hold her through the night. Wanted her dressed in his shirt. He wanted the right to hold her every night. Hell was tired of being alone, and he wanted Georgia. Period.

But how did she feel about that? He was a profiler, what was her behavior telling him?

He thought for a moment, trying to remain objective. Her behavior told him she was afraid. Afraid of the changes, afraid of him, afraid of the past. Afraid of getting hurt. Afraid of losing control. Of sharing control of a relationship with someone else. Especially someone like him, a dominant personality. Georgia was not a dominant personality, though she was far from submissive. She just didn
’
t want to be at the center of every storm.

If he wanted her
he
’
d have to make her not afraid anymore. Make her not want to run from him. But how do he do that?

He looked at the woman in question, sitting beside him so neat and tidy in the navy suit with a soft piece of eggshell silk under the jacket. Her dark hair was straightened today, soft and sleek looking. When had she had the time to do that? Probably while he was on the porch with her father. It was as soft as it looked, Hell now knew that.
She
was as soft as he
’
d wondered.

His knee bumped hers under the table and he hid a snicker. Her entire body stiffened, her eyes darted toward his. He smiled, then dropped his glance to the small expanse of cleavage left exposed by that silk. If he got an opportunity, he
’
d explore that silk much more closely
later
. Like he
’
d wanted to that morning, watching her as she
’
d served her father orange juice, and wiped Matthew
’
s sticky face before offering Hell more pancakes.

Her cheeks turned pink and Hell found that intriguing. He dropped a hand to cover her knee, ran his thumb up her thigh.

She sent him a chiding look, her dark eyes widening in warning. Hell didn
’
t care. He knew his hand was hidden from view by the table and he made certain his expression gave away nothing. He started drawing concentric patterns over the navy cotton, wishing the woman had worn a skirt. She had one in a chocolate brown that he always felt highlighted her legs perfectly. Unfortunately, she only wore that skirt on court dates when she
’
d be giving expert testimony. He
’
d always thrown those type of consults her way in the past, knowing that he and Compton
—
the two other psychologists on the team
—
hated to spend all day in court. He winced when he realized how unfair that had been of him.

She
’
d never complained, and now he knew that was because she was planning to leave him at the first available opportunity. Because in her mind, whenever he
’
d do things like that she was planning her escape. Preparing to run from him in the end. He wasn
’
t aware that his hand had tightened on her knee until she leaned in against him.
“
Hell, is everything alright
?
”

“
Yes. Just thinking, princess
.
”
He tried to smile at her but didn
’
t think he pulled it off very well.

“
Of
?
”

“
You
.
”

“
And that makes you have that expression? Not reassuring
.
”
She sat back in her chair, her face one of concern.

“
We can discuss it later. In my office, perhaps. A personal consult,
”
Hell said. He
’
d take her in his office, pull the blinds shut, back her over to his desk and explain to her that she needed to always wear skirts on Mondays. He
’
d show her why if necessary, after he explored that silk.

A fun little fantasy, that he wouldn
’
t act upon. Not while on the clock, anyway.

“
After the briefing
?
”
she asked.

“
That would be fine
.
”
He smiled wickedly though his tone was almost bored. He
’
d spend several long minutes consulting with her.

It didn
’
t happen
, of course
. Her father caught them as they were gathering their files to leave.
“
Hellbrook. I need to see you and your team in Conference room B
.
”

“
Sir
.
”
Hell nodded, then turned to the agents beside him. Compton was missing, given medical leave for
four
weeks. Carrie was back, complete with the two new laptops Hell had requisitioned for her after the fire destroyed her others, though she wobbled a bit on the crutches. Her presence didn
’
t surprise him in the least.

Hell would admit it, it hurt him to see Carrie injured. Guilt that he hadn
’
t been able to protect her filled him.
“
Be there in five
.
”

***

Hell was stopped by one of the last people he expected to see still hanging around the St. Louis office. Dr. Bellows was once again dressed in that yellow sweatshirt and clutched a thick file in one hand. She cornered him as he and Brockman hit the elevators shortly before the lunch hour.

“
Dr. Bellows, thought you had accompanied your assistant back to her aunt
’
s
?
”
He knew the doctor had been worried about the younger assistant. She
’
d been the one to suffer the most smoke inhalation
and burns
after the fire.
Her room had been directly over Hell
’
s, and had suffered complete destruction. Thank God the girl had gotten out.

“
I did. Now I
’
m officially on vacation. At least through Mattie
’
s birthday party Saturday
.
”

“
If you
’
re on vacation why are you here
?
”
Brockman tilted his head and studied her, much the way Hell had seen him do with suspects.

“
Lunch date with Ed
.
”
She shifted her shoulders, subtly
—
or not so subtly to a profiler
—
directing her attention straight to Hell.
“
There was an anomaly I wanted to discuss with you. If that
’
s alright with Dr. Brockman
.
”

Hell shot the other man a look; Brockman actually shrugged, an innocent expression on his face. For such an affable person, he seemed to take pleasure in needling the medical examiner. Hell would make a point to grill him about it later. Dr. Bellows seemed to view Brockman as a mildly irritating insect.

“
In here
.
”
Hell motioned to the nearest office
—
Brockman
’
s.
“
What
’
s this about
?
”

She spread the files out on the desk, then flipped the top one open.
“
These are the x-rays from South Dakota. Courier brought them this morning, along with George
’
s. As her physician on record, I insist I get copies of everything. From x-rays taken of Dr. Compton
’
s injury, the angle of impact was 180 degrees-lateral. Whomever hit him was equally as tall as he was.
Six three or four.
And probably heavier
.
Thirty pounds minimum.
”
Dr. Bellows pointed to the film in her left hand with a gnawed on pencil that had seen many better days.

Brockman moved to look over her shoulder.
He snatched the pencil from her hands.
“
Travis Byrum was five foot five
.
”

“
As tall as I
a
m. And he weighed f
if
ty pounds more than I do. Your Agent Sparks, outweighs me by thirty pounds...and she
’
s four inches taller than I
a
m
.
”

Hell frowned.
“
Carrie said he was big
.
”

“
She certain
?
”
Brockman picked the scan up, studying it closely.

“
Carrie is always certain. She remembers details you and I wouldn
’
t. If she said he was big, he was big. I didn
’
t catch that before now. Dammit
.
”
Hell ran through the ramifications in his head.
What else had they missed?

“
So, gentlemen
—
I hate to break this to you
—
”
Dr. Bellows closed her files,
snatched the pencil back and
stuck
it
behind her ear.

“
We missed an UNSUB,
”
Brockman said.

“
Fuck
.
”
The word escaped before Hell could censure it.

“
I
’
ll call Stanton and Handers, get them back out there
.
”
Brockman pulled out his PDA.

“
Autopsies only indicated one. And that was consistent with all the bodies found. Even the blow to the back of Maggie Evans
’
head. It came from an attacker near her size,
”
Dr. Bellows
’
pointed out.
“
And...George said the DNA was a positive match. Add in the information you got from Hannah. Travis Byrum was your guy
.
”

Brockman nodded.
“
It didn
’
t profile with more than one UNSUB. The opposite
.
”

“
So what does that mean
?
”
Hell asked.
“
We had one UNSUB responsible for the Dakota killings and another that attacked only my team
?
”

“
I shot the guy,
”
Bellows said.
“
I
know
I did
.
”

“
But there was no forensics to back that up
.
”
Brockman ruffled through the stack of files on his desk before pulling one free.

“
Yeah, well. It was raining pretty heavy there for a while
.
”
Bellows
’
stood, hands on hips, ready to challenge Brockman.
“
We all know rain does a number on forensics, now don
’
t we
?
”

“
Byrum didn
’
t have a scratch on him when we picked him up. At least not that didn
’
t occur when Georgia slammed him to the concrete. Georgia thought at one point there may have been a copycat. But there was nothing to back it up, so we discarded that theory
.
”

“
A copycat with a grudge against your team? Because that
’
s what it
’
s starting to sound like
.
”
Brockman tacked his copy of the profile to the bulletin board beside his desk. He took the file from Bellows and added Compton
’
s x-ray. Hell handed him copies of the DNA report.
“
Think about it. Carrie and Compton attacked. Your tires slashed. Fire that started in Georgia
’
s room
—
”

“
About that..
.
”
Bellows handed Hell another report from her files.
“
I spoke with Agent Stanton, the fire started in room
203
, not 103
.
”

“
And who was in 203
?
”
Hell couldn
’
t remember.

“
I was,
”
Bellows said it without inflection.

“
And the fire started in
your
room
?
”
Brockman
’
s eyes narrowed on her.
“
You
were in the woods when Carrie was attacked, you say
you
shot the UNSUB. Less than seven hours later,
your
room is torched. And
you
fit the victimology
.
”

“
Wow. Astounding powers of observation
.
”
Her words lacked heat.
“
So what
’
s
your
point
?
”

“
Are we absolutely certain Byrum didn
’
t start the fire
?
”
Hell asked. He
’
d received the arson reports, but hadn
’
t had the time to review them. The rest of the afternoon had been blocked out for him to cross-reference and tie up any loose ends regarding Carterville.

Well, this was one hell of a loose end he now had to tie up.

“
I don
’
t think anyone asked him
.
”
Brockman pulled out a transcript of the interviews they
’
d had with Byrum and with Hannah.

“
Go back to Carterville. Take the jet. You and Ana specifically, see what you can get from Byrum. Go over everything that happened from the moment PAVAD arrived in South Dakota. Talk to Handers, Stanton, all the agents and all the locals
.
”
Hell wanted to go himself, but their next case had to take priority. DNA was conclusive that Byrum killed those girls. The theory of a second UNSUB was just that, a theory. And with a limited number of agents, he couldn
’
t justify the team returning for only a theory.

“
Of course
.
”
Brockman made a note in his PDA.
“
You
’
re thinking it was a local LEO or field agent with a grudge
?
”

“
At this point I don
’
t know. It
’
s as likely as there being two UNSUBS,
”
Hell said before turning toward the silent woman between them.
“
Dr. Bellows, thank you for bringing this to my attention
.
”

“
Anytime. Now, if you
’
ll excuse me...Eddie has promised me lunch. Apparently he didn
’
t eat much at breakfast. Something about his appetite being off
.
”

Hell watched her as she left, certain he hadn
’
t heard her right. Certain he
’
d imagined the wicked spark in her
pretty
hazel eyes. He turned to the other man.
“
Did she just call him
Eddie
?
”