What Burns Within (21 page)

He’d even protected Craig.

And without either of them ever saying a word, the one thing she was sure of was that every single one of them had wanted to pull the trigger….

For a while she hadn’t been sure whether she could cut this job. The guys, normally stoic, had reeled from the fallout of that case.

Ashlyn squeezed her eyes shut. Even now, after all this time, she didn’t want to think about it. Couldn’t. She hadn’t realized how glad she’d been that she wasn’t dealing with the child abductions until she was looking at Isabella Bertini’s body. Working with Tain was a blessing and a curse. He was a reminder, but she could joke with him in a way that allowed her to suppress her feelings. No need to worry that he was always second guessing her competency, that she’d be able to keep her emotions in check and do the work.

Even when she doubted herself.

She’d walked away counting the chance to work with Tain as one of the good things about that case. There had been other good things too.

Something she’d thought about the other day, when she’d seen the card in Carl Parks’s house, feeling like her heart had just bounced up to the top of her throat. A lot of memories had come flooding back in that moment. Possibilities that had never been explored. But she’d bottled it up and refused to stagger under the force of the recall.

“Are you going to get that?” Tain’s voice cut through her thoughts.

“What?”

“Your cell phone. Are you going to answer it?”

Ashlyn blinked, then grabbed her phone, not taking time to look at the caller ID.

“Constable Hart.”

“Ashlyn, this is Alison. Alison Daly.”

Ashlyn’s brow had barely begun to wrinkle when she recognized the caller. Even the split-second hesitation didn’t go unnoticed.

“Did I call at a bad time?”

“No, no. I was just…I just wasn’t expecting it to be you. What can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if you might be free tomorrow night.”

“Um,” Ashlyn tried to scan her memory for reminders of any pressing engagements and glanced at Tain, who gave her a quizzical glance. “I think I’m free. Providing something doesn’t come up at work. I’m working on this case right now….”

The laugh from the other end of the line interrupted her explanation. “Ashlyn, after all these years, you think I don’t know a cop’s life is never really their own?”

Ashlyn’s cheeks burned, despite the fact that Alison couldn’t see her. “Sorry. I guess I’m just used to explaining myself.”

“That’s okay. I understand. I’m planning a little dinner, nothing fancy, for six thirty. Do you have a pen and paper handy? I’ll give you the address.”

“Is this at a restaurant?” Ashlyn asked, retrieving her notebook as she balanced the phone between her cheek and her shoulder.

The cell cut out, and when the line cleared Ashlyn repeated her question.

“No.”

“Oh.” Ashlyn swallowed. She hoped this wasn’t a setup.

“It’s nothing formal. We’re having a little house-warming party for…”

Ashlyn frowned as the phone crackled in her ear. “Alison?” she asked into the static. Damn pockets. She’d had enough of dead zones when she lived in the mountains.

That thought brought back memories too, but she didn’t have time to indulge. The phone cleared, and Alison’s voice came back through.

Ashlyn confirmed the address and cut the call.

“Dinner plans, huh?”

“Shit. The cell cut out right when she was telling me who this little get-together’s for.”

“Does it matter?”

Ashlyn glared at him. “What would you think if you were the single person invited by a married friend to some stranger’s house for a dinner party?”

“That I don’t have to cook.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “Very funny.”

“Why do women obsess about stuff like that? So you got invited to dinner. So some single guy is probably going to be following you around panting all night. It’s not like you said you’d marry him.”

“Following me around panting?”

“Oh, you know how it is. Single guy meets a cute girl and mutual friends have thrust them together…” Tain shrugged.

“Cute?”

He glanced at her. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Beautiful, stunning, vivacious, pretty. All the words in the dictionary and you come out with cute.” She shook her head as she looked out the window. “Makes me feel like I’m twelve.”

“Hey, it could have been worse. These days, you have to be careful what you say to anyone if you’re a single man. Heck, forget single. Guys are better off keeping their mouths shut, their eyes averted and not even referring to women cops as, well, women.”

She groaned. “You know I’m not going to get bent out of shape over being called—”

“Cute?”

Ashlyn smiled and shrugged. “Yeah, not even that will get you into any real trouble.”

“At least, not a formal complaint that will go in my file.”

“I won’t hold it against you.”

Tain’s face sobered. “So what’s next?”

“I’d like to talk to FIS and to Daly.”

“Any thoughts you’d like to share?”

“Well, I want to know if we got any prints from the recreation center. After all, that could be a big lead if we get a hit.”

“You think that’s likely?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, I think this guy had planned this. He was organized. He came prepared.”

“You think he wore gloves.”

Ashlyn nodded. “Likely. But if he didn’t, then I bet money he’s in the system somewhere, or should be.”

“That’s something that’s been bothering me. He’s so efficient. No evidence trail, no tip-offs to the media to taunt us in our investigation, no witnesses.”

“It makes me think we should be looking at every open child abduction, see if there is anything that might connect to this case and give us a clue.”

Tain shook his head. “God, you know what happens when you start looking at past cases.”

The face of Michael Dunahee plastered on bulletin boards and milk cartons from one coast of Canada to the other flashed across her mind. The image struck her as being a close likeness to a much younger Craig.

She’d always wondered why Craig didn’t change his name.

“Imagine all those years, never knowing,” Ashlyn murmured.

“Sometimes I wonder if the parents, the ones we dealt with last year, would have preferred to not know the truth.”

A sea of faces flashed through Ashlyn’s mind, mothers crying, their husbands’ reactions ranging from anguish to rage. “They might say that now, but until they knew, they wanted answers.”

“Then they still had hope.”

Ashlyn swallowed. It always got to her when Tain spoke softly. She was used to an assertive tough-guy front, the hard-ass reputation he’d earned for himself. Although he was far more relaxed and open with her than anyone else when he showed weakness, it cut deep. “There’s still hope for Taylor Brennen and Lindsay Eckert. The one thing we know is that he doesn’t kill them right away. But this guy, he’s either really good or really lucky.”

“And you’re betting on good.” Tain parked the car and switched off the ignition. “Me too. I wish we could find some way to tie these girls together so we could figure out his pattern.”

“Burnaby’s looking into that, right? For now, we can follow up with FIS.”

“What does that have to do with Daly?”

“Maybe nothing,” Ashlyn said evasively. “Let’s see what FIS says first.”

It was a scene that had become familiar to Craig in the past few months. Too familiar. A grief-stricken couple, the woman huddled on the couch, usually, like she was trying to keep people at a distance, like she had some kind of flu virus that a warm blanket, a cup of hot tea, a bit of time and lethargy could mend.

He just wasn’t used to knowing the person masking the pain. Craig swallowed, thinking for a moment about Ashlyn, how she’d seemed to know exactly how he felt when they worked together, how everything in him had screamed to run away from that understanding, that feeling of having your soul ripped open and exposed. Every time he’d wanted to reach out to her he’d been held back by the realization that she could see into him, the feeling that there was nowhere inside himself that he could hide, and that honesty and openness had scared him. At times he’d felt as though his chest was constricting with such force that he couldn’t breathe.

He glanced at Lori’s wooden form on the couch, her eyes vacuously aimed at some arbitrary point on the wall, not meeting the gaze of anyone who’d walked into the room.

Vishal Dhaval was a different story altogether. He’d jumped to his feet, his body bristling with energy, and then stopped cold as he set eyes on Inspector Hawkins. Hawkins stared back at him, and for a moment the whole room seemed to be holding its breath. Then Hawkins moved to the far wall, and Craig stepped into the center of the room, Daly beside him.

“Craig Nolan,” he said.

Vishal blinked at him for a second and then shook his hand, muttering a quick introduction. “Call me Vish.”

“And this is Sergeant Steve Daly.” Craig paused as they nodded at each other. “Every member of our evidence recovery team is outside your door, waiting for the word, and I will personally ensure that they don’t miss anything.”

Craig crouched down, watching Lori as she stared just to the right of him, still not making eye contact, her head resting against her hand, her elbow on the arm of the couch, her whole body wrapped in a wool blanket with her long legs tucked underneath her.

The mug of tea in her other hand apparently had been forgotten.

The cup started to shake, and Craig reached out tentatively, gently taking the porcelain into his hands and steadying it. Her fingers slipped away.

“We’re going to get him.”

Lori turned to face Craig then, the despondent look giving way to a sullen stare. Her gaze jumped up to a spot behind Craig and slightly above him, and her eyes widened before she turned away.

He stood and shifted his body at an angle as he reached to set the mug down on the small table beside the couch so he could see what Lori had looked at.

Hawkins’s cheeks turned a shade darker, and he cleared his throat, looking down at his toes.

Anyone who couldn’t handle this shouldn’t be in the house. They’d only make things worse. Craig wished he could say it, but Hawkins outranked everyone present.

“Perhaps you could take Mr. Dhaval to another room and take his statement, and Inspector Hawkins can instruct the FIS people waiting outside,” Craig said to Daly.

“I’ll take Lori’s statement,” Hawkins said.

Craig felt his neck tense. “Respectfully, sir, I’ve taken all the statements on the previous cases, and I know what we’re looking for. Frankly, so does Lori. It would be best if we can go over this and keep this as uncomplicated as possible.”