“
I’m about to start reprimanding you
loudly
. Ready?”
She nodded, it was part of her cover but she could live without the notoriety and drama. He started telling her that she
’d taken unprecedented risks...
blah blah blah.
She opened the door, trying to escape. Special Agent Barton was walking past, pretending not to eavesdrop.
Out of nowhere nausea rose up and she
bolted out of Hanrahan’s office, just making the ladies’ bathroom before she was ill. She hung over the toilet hoping to hell she wasn’t coming down with something.
There was a knock on the door.
“You okay?” Barton.
Mallory wiped her mouth and flushed
the toilet. She came out of the stall and washed her hands, then ran cold water over her wrists. “Must be something I ate.”
Barton
gave her a wry smile. “Both times I was pregnant I barfed every day for six weeks. Made a hell of an impression on my colleagues” Her smile turned a little nasty. “I even managed to puke on one of my SACs who was a particularly unpleasant man down in Texas.”
“
I’m not pregnant,” she snapped. They’d used protection every time.
Barton
looked amused then wistful. “It isn’t so bad, you know—having kids—as long as you have a supportive spouse you can make it work with an FBI career.”
“
I’m not pregnant.”
How old were those condoms
? Crap, she’d never thought to check.
Barton
shrugged. “Well at least Alex Parker’s rich. You guys can afford a nanny.”
“
And once again, I’m
not
pregnant and it’s none of your business.” She tried to remember when she’d last had her period. Damn.
“
I checked his alibi. Jane Sanders says they’re old friends who went out to dinner the night Lindsay Keeble was abducted so he’s definitely not our PR-killer.”
Which she already knew.
She almost missed
it, she was so freaked about skipping her period. She jerked to face the other agent. “Jane Sanders?”
“
Yeah, your mother’s aide. What are the chances?” Those black eyes of Barton’s gleamed like jet. “I’m going to the cafeteria for some orange juice. Can I get you anything?”
“
No. Thank you.” Mallory headed back to her desk. A ball of ice wedged inside her lungs and made it hard to breathe. Had her mother gone to some elaborate lengths to insert a man into her life—a man who could also act as her part-time bodyguard? That was ridiculous but...what were the odds of it being a coincidence?
She needed to call Alex and ask him outright. The feelings she had for him swamped anything she
’d ever experienced before and maybe those feelings were screwing with her mind. And there was something even more important she needed to check before she spoke to him. She grabbed her keys and headed into town.
She drove to the nearest ph
armacy, bought a pregnancy test, headed into the nearest McD’s and spent five long minutes waiting in the bathroom stall. Sweat beaded on her upper lip as she watched the line in the window turn blue. She closed her eyes and felt a flutter of panic in her chest. She wanted to scream. What the hell was she going to do?
The idea of a baby scared her to death. She was in a career where she put her life on the line on a regular basis and the man who
’d stolen her sister had targeted her for the same treatment. What the hell would she do with a baby? What would the killer do?
In the space of five seconds she went from being horrified she was pregnant to knowing she
’d kill to protect her child. What would Alex say when he found out? Christ, what if he was only seeing her because of some scheme her mother had set up? Her stomach turned over and tears welled in her eyes. Being pregnant certainly explained the recent swings of emotions and rapid onslaught of tears and nausea.
Great
. At least it wasn’t terminal.
What if Alex wasn’t interested in long term? The idea cut to the bone. He’d told her at the start he wasn’t a good bet for a relationship—that he let people down. Maybe he’d been in this position before. For all she knew he already had a
child somewhere and didn’t like the kid.
She loved Alex
. She was pretty sure he loved her. He couldn’t be someone who worked for her mother. That was insane. But no way did she want him to feel obligated toward her. She had money. She had a good career. She laid her hand over her flat stomach. And it was early days and the test might be wrong.
She stood and whirled in a circle. He
r phone rang but she ignored it. She didn’t know what to do. Did she tell him so they could deal with the situation together? Or did she keep it to herself for a few days while her brain processed the idea and she helped deal with the vigilante and the serial killer?
The door squealed as someone came into the restroom. Her phone vibrated again and she remembered she was still
a target of the PR-killer. And now she didn’t just have herself to worry about. Her hand slipped to her Taser because she wanted him alive if possible.
Heart pounding she checked
through the stall door and saw a woman pushing a stroller. She stuffed her Taser and pregnancy test in her purse to figure out later. Maybe it was a false positive. Maybe she’d read the instructions wrong. She came out of the stall and washed her hands, looking at the woman struggling with a toddler and a baby. “Do you need any help?”
The woman looked unsure and so Mallory flashed her badge.
“I’m an FBI agent so I can watch junior if you need a minute.”
The woman nodded.
“Thanks. Most people don’t get how difficult it can be.”
Mallory
’s throat tightened. She had a feeling she was about to find out. The woman and toddler disappeared into a stall. She looked at the sleeping baby, so content, so...vulnerable. The idea of a child felt weird, alien. Amazing. Thrilling. Christ—like she’d been handed a miracle. A chance to make things better. But first she needed to make sure Payton’s killer was dealt with. And how she dealt with him was going to tell her everything she needed to know about the type of human being she really was.
S
ince he’d started doubting the integrity of their inside guy at the FBI, Alex had set up his own alert system regarding the PR-killer investigation that was now being run out of the FBI’s Washington Field Office in conjunction with the BAU and Greenville County Sheriff’s Office. To make things easier, he’d bugged Supervisory Special Agent Frazer’s phone.
This
particular report was so fresh Alex barely had time to unlock his office door before he turned around again and left. He had a lead on the PR-killer and a good hour head-start on the BAU. He took the metro and walked the rest of the way to his storage garage. He went in the side door. Security was state of the art with reinforced steel doors. This was where he stored his weapons, his transportation, his disguises. He wasn’t about to leave it vulnerable to thieves.
As always he swept for bugs. Time was tight, but he worked best when he followed routine.
He took his favorite SIG P229 and suppressor from a floor safe. He opted for the beard disguise and a woolen hat that covered his ears. Ears were as individual as prints and he kept his obscured as much as possible when he was on a job. Hell, even blue jeans had been used to ID perps.
Mallory had left a message on his voice mail to say she was going out on a bust and that she
’d be working late tonight. She assured him she wasn’t going to be alone for any reason at any time. With luck he could be back at Quantico ready to pick her up when they were both done.
If everything went to plan
, her problems would be over and he’d then have to find a way to get the hell out of her life. The alternative was too tempting and she deserved better.
The thought made him stop dead.
For the first time in his life he wanted the normal things people wanted. A wife, a house, a family. All the things he couldn’t have because of the bad decisions he’d made. He was sick of lying, sick of killing.
But right now he had no choice.
This one was for Mallory. To keep her safe.
He got in
an innocuous silver sedan and drove for an hour and twenty minutes. Most of the snow had melted but the occasional patch lingered deep in the trees. Winter was coming—ready or not. Unstoppable—a bit like this serial killer who started abducting young girls at least eighteen years ago and was still killing today. Wasn’t much of a moral dilemma to put a bullet in this guy’s skull.
Alex couldn
’t underestimate the guy. He was smart and Alex didn’t have time to plan anything more sophisticated than a quick double tap. Head shots this time. No pissing around with body shots even though that meant Mallory would never get the answers she craved. Better to be alive and grieving than dead.
The roads got narrower and narrower and less congested the further north he got.
He pulled over at a small convenience store on the lakeside about quarter of a mile from his target’s location.
“
You rent out canoes?” he asked the guy behind the counter.
“
Sure do. Not much call for it this time of year though.”
A little too much daylight for Alex
’s plan but sometimes it was better to hide in plain sight.
“
You on vacation?” the man asked. He had shrewd eyes beneath bushy eyebrows. This guy wouldn’t forget a face.
“
Driving to Denver to start a new job, but couldn’t resist one last paddle before I hit the Midwest.”
“
It’s beautiful country. Guess it wouldn’t do any harm to take one out. No ice on the lake yet. That’ll be fifty bucks an hour with a hundred dollar deposit. Canoes are around the side.” He jerked his head in the general direction of the lake. “If you need a hand, let me know.”
He handed him a life jacket. Alex thanked him and
paid cash. Small bills. He didn’t worry about fingerprints. He didn’t have any. Contact DNA was another matter but hard to prove given how many people had handled those notes over the years.
He carried the canoe down to the small dock and
went back for the paddle. He climbed in, placing a small backpack between his knees. The water was clear and flat. The only leaves on the trees were yellowed and stubborn. It was cold out on the lake and his breath froze, but it was so peaceful the quietness washed over him like a balm. A fish jumped.
He scanned the properties along the shoreline. A pretty part of the world but not that isolated. Neighbors
would
notice if someone was using a cabin that was supposed to be empty. Alex spotted the property and glided on past. The place looked quiet, curtains drawn. No fire despite the November chill. Didn’t look like anyone was around. He paddled up to an inlet around a small headland and pulled up on a small man-made beach. The lake looped around and the ridge above him would provide a clear elevated view while allowing him to keep his distance. He hopped out and pulled the canoe up the beach. No one was home here either which was a definite plus. He climbed the ridge, hidden by trees until he could survey where this guy was supposed to be holed up. The property was still a ways off, just visible through the trees. Minutes ticked by, but he didn’t see anything.
He sat quietly.
No hint of smoke in the chimney. No car this side of the building. He waited. Feds took their time in these situations and got lots of back-up. He checked his cell phone to make sure it was set to vibrate. There was a new message from Mallory. She needed to talk to him but nothing urgent she assured him.
His heart gave a twinge. What the hell w
as he going to do about Mallory? He’d fallen for her like a HALO jump gone bad. Worse, she’d fallen for him and he didn’t want to see her hurt.
At some point she had to dump his ass because she was incredible and he was a lying asshole. But until this guy was dead
—one hundred percent categorically not breathing with no hope of resuscitation dead—he wasn’t going anywhere.
A quiver ran down his back and he frowned as he scanned the area. Something didn
’t feel right. Rodman hadn’t felt right either and he’d been a pedophile who fucked kids for fun.
Silence of the woods pressed down on him. It was
too
quiet. The whole situation felt like a trap. But
if
the PR-killer was here it could be over in minutes. Over like Meacher was over. Over. Finished. Dead.
The headache was back.
Shit
. Something really didn’t feel right. He backed up slowly, careful not to make a sound as he got back in his canoe and paddled further down the lake, going all the way around before hitting the far shore. Then he powered back to the shop and jetty. No way was he ignoring his instincts. They might be flawed but the fact he was still alive was a testament to their veracity.
He returned the canoe to the store and collected his deposit with a polite smile. A silver-haired guy was perusing magazines at the back of the store. Alex
’s nape prickled. He bought a packet of chips and a can of Coke, got into his car.
Seconds later a convoy of three vehicles with government plates
rolled past. Mallory was in the last vehicle and he sat there frozen like a two-by-four, but she wasn’t looking at him.
A rush of emotion filled him.
Despite the certainty that they were here to arrest him he sat there looking at her. The first two cars emptied but instead of surrounding him, the agents rushed up the steps and confronted the silver-haired man. Through the glass he could hear them complaining about “training exercises”.
And Alex realized what was going on. It was a trap, but not for him.
The trap was for whoever was working inside the FBI.
Taking it slowly, having no doubt that they
’d already checked his plates, he drove away. Cover should hold. It was a good one, designed to protect the same government the FBI served. He didn’t think they suspected him else he’d have been on the floor with his hands cuffed, waiting for another rescue that wouldn’t come from people who were supposed to have his back.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Mallory turn and lock onto his profile. Sweat ran down his spine. Not from the fear of getting caught, but from lying to the woman he loved down to his poor worthless
soul.
He knew he couldn
’t lie to her anymore.
He drove west,
cutting down back roads. Then he pulled over and called Jane on the secure line. “It was a trap.”
“
What do you mean?”
“
I mean the FBI turned up, but the house was empty. A decoy.”
“
The killer might have just fled. The FBI could just be arriving. You knew there wouldn’t be much lead time—”
“
No. You don’t understand. I think this was a set-up to ferret out whoever is working with you inside the FBI. If they contacted you, they are about to be fucked. Any way you can warn them?”
“They didn’t call.
No one called. Maybe they knew it was a trap?” Her voice trembled. “If I call them to check that could compromise us all.” The encryption was excellent, but everything could be broken if you had a starting point.
“
Then maybe we’re safe. But someone is onto us and we need to change everything about how we operate.” Shit,
Mallory
. She’d been onto them and then transferred to the BAU. She was working with someone inside the BAU to bring down The Gateway Project. She was a smart cookie. Another reason to love her.
Love?
Crap
.
“
Dump your cells and destroy the SIM cards just in case. Lay low until this is all over...I’ll be in touch.”
Jane sounded tentative.
“You should disappear for a while...”
“
I can’t.” He hung up. He couldn’t even remember how many days he had left on his contract. He just knew he couldn’t leave Mallory until the PR-killer was dead or arrested.
Then he realized it was only a matter of time until she figured it out
—she was too smart not to connect the dots. Sweat broke out on his back. He had to tell her. Lying to her face wasn’t possible, he’d figured that out almost the moment he met her. But going to jail and leaving her unprotected wasn’t an option either.
Idiot
.
He slammed the steering wheel with the bottom of his fist. He’d known someone was onto them and he’d been arrogant enough to think he could get away with it anyway.
His phone rang
. Mallory. He picked up because he needed to hear her voice.
“
Alex?”
There was a motel up ahead.
“I need you to meet me. It’s not far from where you are right now.” He gave her the name. “Come alone.”
“
How do you know where I am right now? Did I just see you here?” Her tone held a healthy dose of suspicion.
He hung up. She either trusted him or she didn
’t. He pulled into the motel parking lot and dug into the data his programs had been sifting. He might be going to prison for what he’d done for his country, but first he was going to save the woman he loved.
***
How did Alex know where she was? Mallory stood outside the store and stared at her phone in confusion. Had she seen him here at the store? In disguise? Driving a car she’d never seen before? And he’d just hung up on her.
What the heck?
Hanrahan was busy telling his people they’d wasted a day driving up to this spot, on his whim. They were pissed too.
She didn’t care.
The fact Alex knew Jane Sanders, her mother’s aide, and hadn’t mentioned the connection, was getting more and more suspicious. She got that horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach—like nausea only a hundred times worse because it wasn’t going away. Like maybe he
had
been watching her all this time simply because her mother had paid him. If that were true no wonder he’d been so hard to get into bed. God, she felt sick.
Or was he simply following her
today to protect her?
That
was the sort of thing he’d do too.
There was another theory tugging on her brain.
An insidious idea that, now it had taken root, wouldn’t go away.
He
’d come into her life the day after Meacher had been murdered in North Carolina. He’d shown up here again today when they’d baited the trap with another serial killer. Could he be...?
No
. It was ridiculous. He consulted for the FBI. He was good with computers. He was a hell of a marksman. He’d been in the military—those damned scars... He’d taken Frazer down without breaking a sweat.
No. No. No.
He ran a security firm. He wouldn’t do that. But he was in a unique position...to be the vigilante.
Her hands shook
.
Why
had he hung up on her?
Why
was he driving that old wreck of a car when he had his Audi? Her brain was arguing with itself and yet suddenly all the pieces snapped together. Him being in Charlotte. Him not freezing when they were attacked, instead reacting like he trained for such things even harder than she did. He was the man she was after.