Fear for Me (5 page)

He would make sure the Butcher went back to jail. And when he did, Walker would
not
be escaping again.

Cops were milling around. More detectives. The homicide captain was there, too. Anthony recognized him at once—he’d worked with Reginald Powers when they’d originally apprehended Jon Walker years before.

Reginald inclined his head as he came toward Anthony. “Been a long time.”

They shook hands. More gray lined Reginald’s hair than the last time Anthony had seen him, and the guy’s dark eyes looked tired.

Anthony wondered if he looked as grim. After the Valentine Killer case, there had been days when he hadn’t even wanted to look in the mirror.
That SOB almost took me out.
But he shoved those memories aside. “You knew I’d be the one they sent to track him.”

Reginald pulled his hand back. “You are the best, right?”

No, he was just one of the marshals who faced death too damn much.

“Come on. I’ll show you where they found the body.”

Anthony didn’t tell Reginald that he already knew exactly how to get to Lauren’s bedroom. Not many people in that town had known about their relationship. Lauren had been too good at keeping secrets.

Reginald led Anthony down a tight hallway. The house smelled of Lauren. Lilacs. He hadn’t even known what lilacs were, not until her. After her, he’d never been able to forget the scent.

They rounded a corner, and then they were heading into Lauren’s bedroom. The sheets had been stripped from the bed, and Anthony could easily see the bloodstained mattress.

“The ME estimates that our victim died at least an hour before she was found,” Reginald told him.

An hour.

“Rigor mortis had already set in, but the uniform on scene…” Another rough sigh. “Hell, it was the kid’s first body. He still tried to save her.”

Hard to save the dead.

“Lauren heard a voice,” Anthony said. “When she first came into the house, she heard someone call her name.” His gaze scanned the tidy room—tidy, except for the blood. The scent of the blood smothered the lilacs.

“You think she heard the killer?”

He did.

The killer had been there. Waiting.

Had he wanted Lauren to rush in? To find the body? If so, he would have wanted the perfect place to watch her discovery. “Have your crime scene techs been over the whole room?” He could see one tech bent down on the other side of the bed.

“They’re still working. I want them to be as thorough as they can be.”

On this case, there wouldn’t be room for slipups.

Anthony pulled on a pair of latex gloves. He headed toward the closet. It was located at the foot of the bed. The door had thin, decorative slits running its length. Slits that would allow someone inside to easily see out to the bed.

He opened the door.

“We searched there,” Reginald said from behind him as he heaved a sigh. “Didn’t find anything.”

Nothing looked disturbed inside. Lauren’s clothes hung neatly on their hangers. Her shoes were all neatly on the shelves. The scent of lilacs was stronger in the small space.

Reginald came closer to Anthony. “Someone threw the breaker at her house, that’s why she didn’t have power when she came in. The techs swept for prints there, but it had been wiped clean.”

Anthony bent, staring down at the carpet. No shoe impressions. No debris.

He headed into the closet.

Shut the door.

Anthony stared through those slits—and had a perfect view of the blood-soaked bed. His hands rose, hovering above the door.

He reached higher. Higher. The closet would have been the choice spot for anyone who wanted to hide, but if the killer had been in the dark, he would have wanted something close by so he could turn on a light and see his victims—both of them.

His fingers skimmed along the edge of the door’s top. His hand slid over the wood, searching.

He wondered if there was a small flashlight somewhere. Instead, his gloved fingers touched the handle of something. A knife. He pulled the weapon down and stepped from the closet.

Reginald let out a low whistle.

Anthony studied the blade. No blood. The knife appeared to have been wiped clean, but the techs would be able to tell for sure.

“Sonofabitch,” Reginald muttered.

Yes, Walker was. Anthony raised a brow as he looked at the captain. “I guess your guys missed something.” A pretty big fucking something. On a case like this, there wasn’t any room for error. No mistakes.

Mistakes meant death.

CHAPTER TWO

“District Attorney Chandler!” a reporter shouted as Lauren paused on the steps of the courthouse. “Is it true the Bayou Butcher is hunting in the city once more?”

Anthony saw Lauren pull in a slow breath, then she pushed back her shoulders. He’d seen her do that move dozens of times in court. Bracing herself. Getting ready for the attack.

She turned slowly to face the crowd, and the sunlight glinted off her blonde hair. She’d changed clothes, put on a sleek skirt and blouse that made her look both professional and far too sexy for his weak self-control.

She’d always been too tempting for him.

“Jon Walker escaped from Angola prison, and the U.S. Marshals Service is currently conducting a manhunt for him.” Her eyes, the brightest shade of blue Anthony had ever seen, glanced his way. “I have every confidence that the marshals will have Walker back within custody in a very short time.” She gave a nod, and turned away.

“Will they have him back in custody before or
after
he kills again?” the same reporter fired out. A redhead, one with her hair in a twist, and one who was already trying to follow Lauren up those steps. “The Butcher
did
kill the woman who was found in your house last night, correct?”

Lauren glanced back. Even across the space that separated them, Anthony could feel the chill of her stare. “Sharon, you should know better. I cannot comment on an ongoing murder investigation.”

Then Lauren hurried up the steps, refusing to give any more comments. Anthony pushed through the crowd and followed her easily. They both needed to see the judge, and if this trip gave him the chance to have a few minutes alone with Lauren, he’d take those minutes.

His ID let him sweep right past security. The reporters were held back, but their questions followed him.

Lauren’s heels clicked across the marble as she closed in on the elevator. She slipped inside, turned around, and saw him. He caught the slight flare of surprise as her eyes widened. The doors began to close. He pushed his hand through the doors, triggering the sensor. Then he was inside with her. His gaze held hers.

“Hold the elevator!” a voice shouted.

Anthony glanced over his shoulder. “Get the next one,” he ordered, his voice a low rumble as he shoved against the button to send the doors closing.

The guy—older, balding—glared at him but wisely stepped back.

The elevator doors closed. Anthony glanced to the left at the control panel. She’d pushed the button for the fifth floor. Not a lot of time to talk, so…

He pulled the emergency stop knob.

“What the hell?” Lauren immediately demanded as she surged forward. “Why did you do that?”

He turned toward her.
Damn
. Until he’d walked into the station and seen her, he’d almost forgotten just how beautiful she was in person. Photographs had never done her justice.

Up close, he could see all the different shades of gold and blonde in her hair. Natural—he knew that fact intimately. Her face was heart shaped, her cheeks high, and her lips so lush and full. And—

“Stop looking at me that way,” she told him, backing up a step. Her forward march had sure stopped quickly enough. “And get this elevator moving.”

In due time. He cocked his head and continued to study her. Five years. He’d thought about her far too often during that time. “Back at the station, you were the one saying that we needed to talk.”

“Yes, well, I’ve got a judge waiting on me now. A very nervous judge who I’m going to have to calm down.” Her gaze flickered over him. “You didn’t find the killer’s trail at my house, did you?”

“We knew the rain would wipe away the tracks.” Mother Nature could be a real bitch when she wanted to be. “Every cop in this city is on full alert,” Anthony said. “I’ve got my men doing sweeps, and as soon as I talk to Judge Hamilton—” He broke off and gave a grim smile at the surprised expression on her face. “Yeah, I’m here to see him, too.”

Judge Pierce Hamilton. The man who had presided over Walker’s case.

The judge who was now nervous as all hell because the killer was on the loose once more. Only Anthony didn’t think the judge was the prime target for Walker. Walker hadn’t been fixated on the judge’s image, he hadn’t gone straight to the guy’s house.

No, Walker’s main attention…
is on Lauren.

Lauren had been the one in that courtroom, telling the world what a monster Walker truly was. It had been her face on the TVs, in the newspapers. Hamilton had banged the gavel, but it had been Lauren who sent Walker to Angola.

Then he remembered the way she’d cut through the courthouse. That sexy rolling stride—the way she’d been
alone
. Back teeth clenching, he gritted out, “I thought the cop was giving you protection.” That had been his order to the handsy cop who’d been way too close to Lauren at the station.

Her delicate brows arched. “Don’t worry, Marshal. I have a police escort here, and he’s waiting outside to take me back to my office once I’m done with the judge. I’m covered.”

Not well enough. He sure hadn’t caught sight of her escort. “Walker
killed
a woman in your house.”

“I’m well aware of that.”

She should be plenty aware of the danger. Lauren couldn’t pretend like most folks did. Couldn’t act like the monsters weren’t real.

Her breath whispered out as she continued. “He killed a friend, not just a woman. A
friend
. I’m trying to figure out why Karen was even at my house, and don’t think for a minute, not one single minute”—now she was advancing on him once more, closing the space between them as color lit her cheeks—“that I don’t feel like someone ripped into my heart. Karen was the best friend I had.”

Maybe that’s why she’s dead.
He didn’t tell her that. Couldn’t. It was too brutal of a truth.

But Walker was a brutal killer. He’d suffered in jail. Locked up for five long years. Maybe he wanted Lauren to suffer now, too.

Anthony’s hand lifted and brushed across her cheek. She flinched at his touch and pulled away from him.

“Get this elevator moving,” she said, but her voice was husky, reminding him of their past. Tangled sheets. Secrets. “
Now.
”

No, not just yet.

Studying her carefully, he said, “We’re gonna need the DA’s office to work with my team. Full cooperation.”

She stared back at him. “Did you really think I’d give you anything less?”

With the way things were between them, he hadn’t been sure. He should have known, though. Lauren had always been good at compartmentalizing her life. Hot sex with him in private. Ice in public.

She exhaled slowly. “He killed two people at the prison. That’s what Paul told me.”

Paul. The handsy detective. Anthony nodded.

“He only killed women before.” Her voice was softer now. His hand had clenched into a fist—so he wouldn’t reach out to her again. “But this time, one of the victims was a guard?”

Another nod. “It was a fast kill. More necessity than anything else.” Cold words. They had to be. He didn’t tell her about the doctor’s body. Walker had been up to his old tricks with her. Staring into Lauren’s bright gaze he said, “I’m meeting with the judge, then I’m joining my team. We’re going to search every hangout that Walker had in this area. He’s in Baton Rouge, and he’s going to try to look for security, familiarity.”

Her lips pressed together, then she said, “I want to come with you.”

“Baby, that’s not—”

Her head jerked up. “I’m
not
your baby.”

Talk about a slip. He sure hadn’t meant for that to roll out.

“What I am…I’m the DA in this town. I want the people here to know we’re doing everything possible to keep the city safe, and I want justice for Karen.” She swallowed. The faint click almost seemed painful to his ears because he knew she was trying to push away the grief from her friend’s death. “I won’t get in your way, but I
will
be involved, and if I have to go over your head to do it, then I—”

Static crackled on the elevator’s intercom. “Ms. Chandler?”

Her head turned toward the security camera near the speaker in the left corner.

“Do you need assistance?” that crackling voice asked.

She leaned around Anthony, her body brushing lightly against his, and pressed the button to restart the elevator. “No, thank you. We’re good.”

The elevator rose. Their gazes held.

He hadn’t agreed to let her tag along on his hunt.

She hadn’t backed down.

Just like old times.

The doors slid open. “I can help you,” she said quietly as they headed toward the judge’s chambers. “I’m the one who talked to Walker’s friends before and after the trial. I’m the one who interviewed the witnesses. I know him and his habits far better than you.”

Maybe that was true, but he still wanted her away from the danger.

Not getting up close and personal with it.

She waved to a guard, then paused near the judge’s closed chamber doors. The flush had left her cheeks. Now she studied him with a cool gaze. “Unless you don’t think you can manage to keep me safe while I’m with you and your entire team of marshals. Is that the issue? Maybe my safety is too much to ask?”

He almost smiled. Would have, if he hadn’t been so worried about the twisted killer on the loose. “I can do my job.”

“Good. And I can do mine.” She turned away from him. Knocked on the door. “Judge Hamilton!” Her voice rose.

The judge’s secretary wasn’t at her desk. Anthony wasn’t in the mood to wait around for the lady to return so that she could announce his arrival. He didn’t have time to kill. He pulled Lauren back and shoved open the door.