Fear for Me (12 page)

A woman exited next. She had black hair that slid lightly over her shoulders. She was slender, around five foot five, and dressed
in jeans and a T-shirt. When she walked toward them, Lauren saw the holster under her arm.

“Marshal,” the man called out as a faint grin lifted his lips. “I was told we’d find you here.”

Lauren’s gaze swept over the two once more. She didn’t need to see their IDs to realize…“You’re FBI.”

The blond male gave a quick nod. “I’m Agent Kyle McKenzie, and this is Dr. Cadence Hollow.”

Cadence’s golden gaze assessed Anthony and Lauren. “We’ve been sent down to assist with the investigation.” She offered her hand to Lauren. “You’re DA Lauren Chandler.”

She took the offered hand. “And you’re the profiler who took down the serial rapist in Iowa last spring.”

Cadence’s brows rose. “You know my work.”

Lauren gave a little nod as she dropped the woman’s hand. FBI Special Agent Cadence Hollow hadn’t just taken down the rapist—she’d taken down plenty of other serials over the years. The woman’s name had been splashed in the paper plenty of times. Intent and eerily accurate, Cadence’s insights into the minds of killers had earned her favored status in the press.

“It’s good to see you again, Tony,” Cadence said as she glanced over at Anthony. “It’s been awhile.”

Lauren didn’t let her expression alter. Of course Anthony would know her. They both tracked killers, and she knew Anthony was often pretty tight with the FBI. But…the familiarity in the other woman’s tone, the intimate
Tony
—just how close were they?

I told him I didn’t want to know who he’d been with.
She didn’t want to know, because she didn’t want the jealousy to knot in her gut.

“Sorry about everything that went down on the Valentine case,” Kyle murmured. “Wayne told us just how close you came on that one.”

Lauren glanced at Anthony from the corner of her eye. She knew they were talking about the case of the Valentine Killer. The notorious serial killer had finally been apprehended—and killed—months before in New Orleans.

According to the news reports she’d seen, Valentine had tried to kill Anthony, but the stories hadn’t provided a whole lot of specific information.

“Less than a minute, huh?” Kyle shook his head and gave a low whistle. “That’s cutting things real close, even for you, Marshal.”

Less than a minute?

Lauren’s eyes narrowed.

Anthony gave a rough shrug. “Not like I had a lot of choice. The bomb was ticking, and I figured I was about to get a close-up look at hell.”

Her cheeks numbed. Her entire body seemed to ice. Lauren stumbled back.

Cadence caught her arm, frowning. “Are you all right?”

No, she
wasn’t
. Had Anthony just said he’d been a minute away from dying in a bomb’s blast?

“The swamp isn’t for everyone,” a man’s low, rumbling voice said before Lauren could reply. She glanced over her shoulder and saw that two others had joined their little party. Paul and the man speaking. Tall, dark, and definitely dressed for trekking through a swamp.

The man wasn’t a stranger to Lauren. He couldn’t be—she’d known him far too long. Wesley Hawthorne worked for Fish and Wildlife.

He’d just been starting as an agent for Fish and Wildlife five years before, when he’d been pulled in to help search the swamp for more of the Butcher’s victims. He’d been the one to lead the searches back then.

It looked like he was about to do the same now.

“You don’t need to go in with us, Lauren,” Wesley said as his dark eyes met hers. “We’ve got a day of tracking ahead of us. Your marshal wants to cover all of Walker’s old hunting grounds, and we both know this was an extensive territory.”

Yes, it had been.

And he wasn’t
her
marshal.

“I want to be here,” Lauren said. No ridiculous high heels for her today. Hiking boots and jeans.

She’d made arrangements to clear her schedule at the DA’s office. Her cases were being handled, her staff fully briefed.
This
was where she needed to be.

For Karen.

“If he’s gone back to the swamp, I want to help find him.”

If
he was still there.

Wesley gave a slow nod. “We’ll be heading out in five minutes.” A ghost of a smile lifted his lips. “Always a pleasure, Lauren.”

She noticed that Anthony’s gaze assessed the other man.

Paul crept closer to her. “You doing okay?”

She nodded. “I might look like hell, but I’m hanging in there.”

“You could never look like hell.” The guy was such a liar. He caught her hand and pulled her a few feet away from the others. “I worried about you last night.”

Last night. When she’d been having nightmares and nearly giving in to her wild hunger for Anthony. She forced a calm edge to her words, using the mask that Anthony hated. “Nothing to worry about. I had the marshal for protection.” Her eyes slid
to the right. To him. He was talking with Wesley and Kyle, but Anthony’s gaze flicked to her.

There was a possessive heat in his eyes that made her burn.

“We kept a uniform on the judge all night, and a patrol is staying with him today, too.” Paul’s breath heaved out. “Your house is gonna be off-limits for a while. I’m sorry, but the tech crew doesn’t want anyone in there.”

No, they wouldn’t. Not until they’d collected every single bit of evidence they could.

“The offer of a place to crash still stands,” Paul told her. Her eyes met his solemn gaze. “If you need me, I’m here.”

Her lips curved. “Thank you.”

He rolled his shoulders. “I want this bastard stopped just as much as you do, Lauren.”

Because, like Wesley, he’d worked the case before. Paul had been an officer then, not a homicide detective, but he’d been there the night Walker was arrested. The night the Petersons had come home and found Walker slicing up the babysitter. Paul hadn’t been heavily involved in the investigation so he hadn’t met Anthony back then, but he was still as tied in with the bloody past as they all were.

“We will get him, and the guy won’t escape again,” Paul promised.

Why couldn’t she believe that? Part of her was so very afraid they wouldn’t catch him.

Not until he catches me.

She nodded like she agreed, and then they were loading up. Kyle didn’t head into the woods with them. He took his fancy suit and went into the cabin with the tech crew that was still working there. But Cadence had on her hiking clothes, and she joined the group.

Lauren glanced over at her.

Lips curving, Cadence said, “Being here, seeing the things
he’s
seen, it helps me to understand him.”

“I didn’t think understanding killers was a problem for you.”

“It’s not.” Then, softer, she said, “That’s the part that’s more like a curse.”

Frowning, Lauren turned away from the agent. It was going to be a long, hot day, but she was ready to do anything necessary. Staying at the hotel or hanging out in her office wasn’t on her agenda. She had to do something, anything, to help in the hunt.

To get justice for Karen.

“I’m sorry about your friend,” Cadence said quietly.

Lauren knew her shoulders stiffened. “Thank you.”

“Do the cops know why she was at your house?”

“Not yet.” But after talking with Hamilton, Lauren had a pretty good idea.
I pressured her to leave him. She was running to me…and now she’s dead.

Because of me.

“She had a key to your house.”

“Yes.”
Take it, Karen, in case you ever need a place to crash.
She’d smiled at her friend.
My door’s always open to you.
She’d been worried about Karen. Getting in too deep with a married man.

Lauren forced herself to breathe nice and slow. Her heart ached when she thought of Karen, and she knew it would always be that way. She’d seen enough horror to know the pain didn’t vanish. The scars always stayed behind.

“She was in my home,” Lauren said softly without glancing at the profiler. “She died in my place.”

“Maybe,” Cadence allowed, “or maybe her death was his plan all along.”

Lauren looked up.

“Walker has a serious issue with women—he likes to control them, to subjugate them, to hurt them. As far as Walker is concerned,
you
took his life away. You were the one there in court, day after day, telling the world he was a monster.” Cadence’s gaze held Lauren’s. “You were the one he saw, the one he could focus all of his rage on, and
you
are the one he wants to punish.”

“Then why is Karen dead?” Lauren snapped out the words, feeling raw. “If he wants me—”

“If you die too quickly, then you don’t get to suffer enough, do you?”

Right then, she was suffering plenty. By killing Karen, the bastard had ripped out Lauren’s heart.

“For a man who’s been isolated the last five years of his life,” Cadence said, her voice thoughtful, “he sure was able to gain access to transportation and supplies fast enough.”

“Anthony thinks someone has been helping him.” So did she. But—
who?

“Helping him, yes.” Cadence gave a slow nod. “But for how long?” Her head tilted as she seemed to consider her own question. “I’ll need to see all the evidence from the earlier cases. Every piece of information you had on Walker.”

Lauren’s heart was beating faster. “The original kills were only on Walker. There was never any sign of someone else—”

“Maybe,” Cadence said quietly. “Or maybe you just didn’t know what to look for.
Who
to look for.” Cadence’s lips thinned. “I’ve been tracking killers for years. I know how they work, and I also know that sometimes, they don’t work alone.” Her breath whispered out. “We might be looking at an alpha team.”

“Excuse me?” Lauren thought her heart was going to burst from her chest.

“An alpha team—two brutal, efficient serials working together. But alpha teams are so rare.” Cadence lifted her hand, as if waving the thought away. “I need to see all the evidence,” she said again. “Before I can work up any additional profile on Walker, I need those files.”

Two serials.
Lauren swallowed the thick lump in her throat. “It’s just Jon.”

It had to be.

It’s just Jon.

Cadence’s eyes were veiled, guarded, and the fear in Lauren’s gut thickened.

It was close to noon when Anthony spotted the tire tracks. He and Wesley both stopped at the same time. Sweat had slickened their shirts, and the heat was just getting started.

The tracks—

“They’re fresh,” Wesley muttered as he bent. His left hand hovered above the tracks.

Yes, they were fresh. Grooves left in the mud, tracks that had been made
after
the last rain.

“Looks like a motorcycle,” Paul said as he closed in behind them. “My Harley leaves tracks about an inch wider.”

Anthony frowned at him.

Paul shrugged. “If you’re going off-road up here, bikes can come in handy.”

So the killer was finding out.

The small group picked up more steam as they began to follow the tracks. One of Walker’s victims had been found in this
vicinity. Well, what had been left of her. She’d been tossed aside and discovered by a local fisherman.

It had taken the ME weeks to make a full ID.

As they drew closer to the old dump site, the tire tracks remained steady.

Anthony glanced over his shoulder. Lauren was just a few feet behind him. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. She hadn’t talked much during the trek, except for her quiet conversation with Cadence. A conversation that had pissed him off.

He wants to kill me.

Screw what Walker wanted.

He inhaled, turning away from her. The scent of vegetation was thick in the area, but there was something else hanging in the air, too. A harsh odor that grew stronger with every step they took.

A familiar, coppery scent.

He grabbed Wesley’s arm. The guy turned toward him, the same knowledge in his eyes.

They pushed through the brush and saw the small clearing.

He’s used the same site to dump a body again.

Anthony heard the sharp inhalation that came from Lauren, but he didn’t look back at her. He was too busy staring straight ahead, and fighting to keep his fury in check.

A woman lay on the ground, spread-eagle, with her hands thrown out at her sides. Blood soaked her. So much blood. Her head was turned away from him, but he recognized the bright-blonde hair. Recognized the short skirt and the discarded high heels that were just inches from her body.

Stacy Crawford hadn’t made it out of the city. She hadn’t made it far at all from Easy Street.

“She was supposed to get away,” Lauren whispered. “She was leaving…”

But Walker had gotten to her before she could get away.

He heard Paul call for backup. Carefully, Anthony walked around the body. He wasn’t about to contaminate the scene, but he needed to see—

Fuck. Her body had been sliced, deeper, harder, than the other victims’. And, unlike with Karen, Walker had sliced Stacy’s face. Again and again…

“Betrayal.” The word came from Cadence. She’d followed Anthony’s footsteps, moving in the exact same way because he knew she wouldn’t be risking crime scene contamination, either. “This attack was personal.”