CHAPTER FIFTEEN
SOMEONE WAS POUNDING on the door.
Tucker frowned as he looked at his watch. Barely 7:00 a.m. He hurried toward the hotel suite door, wondering if there had been a break in the case. But he hadn’t received any phone calls, and surely Bowen or Samantha would have notified him if they’d gotten a solid lead.
He checked the peephole.
Samantha. Bowen. Anthony.
And they all looked grim. What else was new? He flipped the lock and pulled open the door. “I’m guessing you have news that warranted an in-person talk?” An in-person group talk? Not good.
Samantha’s gaze swept over him. “Where’s Dawn?”
“In the shower. She should be coming out any moment.” His stare shifted to Bowen. “You look dead on your feet, man. When is the last time you crashed?”
Bowen’s jaw hardened. “We need to talk.”
Obviously. That was why the little group was at his door. Tucker stepped back, waving them inside. He glanced toward Dawn’s room, and just then, her door opened. She stood there, clad in a pair of jeans and a blue blouse, her hair still damp and her feet bare. “What’s going on?” Worry sharpened her voice as she hurried toward them. “Please, tell me no one else has been hurt.”
Samantha glanced at Bowen. If possible, his expression went even darker.
“Tell her,” Anthony snapped. “She needs to know what she’s dealing with.”
Dawn was at Tucker’s side. Her arm brushed against his.
Anthony noted that touch and his eyes turned to slits. “Be careful who you trust, Dawn.”
What in the hell was that supposed to mean?
Anthony took a step toward them, but Bowen threw out his arm, stopping him. “Cool down, Detective. Right now.”
But Anthony didn’t look cool. His cheeks had flushed. “You’re covering his ass because he’s one of yours.”
“We’re not covering anything,” Samantha threw right back. “I told you already, his DNA wasn’t a match.”
“Someone tell me what’s happening,” Tucker gritted. He didn’t like being in the dark.
Bowen glanced at Samantha. She nodded. With a sigh, he said, “I talked to Heather Hartley’s former college roommate last night. Turns out, Heather had a boyfriend, a guy she was supposed to meet up with down here.”
If possible, Anthony’s cheeks flushed an even darker red.
Voice low, Bowen continued, “According to Catherine Peters—that’s the roommate—Heather’s boyfriend was FBI.”
Shock rolled through Tucker. “You’re kidding me.”
“Wish I fucking was,” Bowen muttered. Then he cleared his throat. “According to Catherine, the guy had been working a case in Alabama—this was a few months back—and when the case wrapped up, he asked Heather to meet him in the Big Easy.”
The sound of Tucker’s heartbeat seemed far too loud as it drummed in his ears. He’d been working a case in Alabama just a few months ago. “We were in Fairhope,” he said, inclining his head toward Samantha. He’d been working with her and several other agents. Coincidence, of course, but...
“Catherine never met the boyfriend.” Bowen rubbed the back of his neck. The shadows under his eyes were dark. The guy had obviously pulled an all-nighter as he drove back from Baton Rouge. “But Heather told the roommate his name.” Bowen’s gaze darted to Dawn, then back to Tucker. “Heather called the guy Tuck.”
He shook his head.
“I questioned her thoroughly.” Bowen’s stare was unflinching. “And she swears that Heather was dating an FBI agent named Tuck. The roommate never saw pictures of the boyfriend, never heard his full name. That was all she had to give me.”
“It’s not me,” Tucker said flatly. “It’s fucking obvious what you’re thinking, but it’s not—”
“We have a partial DNA match.” Samantha’s hands were at her sides. She leaned forward, rocking lightly on her feet. “It came from skin cells recovered in the gloves taken by Red. You know our team can be fast, and I gave them the order for a rush job. This screening was top priority. They moved heaven and earth to get the results this quickly for us.”
Excitement heated his body. Good. Now they were getting somewhere. He’d hoped for more than partial results, but at least this was a start.
“To be clear,” Samantha continued, “the DNA did not belong to Jason Frost.”
“Because he’s dead,” Tucker snapped. He was sick of that refrain. He knew he’d killed his brother. I wasn’t letting him ever hurt Dawn again.
Dawn’s fingers found his.
“Dammit, you shouldn’t trust him,” Anthony snarled at her. “Dawn, don’t you see what he’s doing? You can’t put your faith in him.”
That guy was pushing him too far. Tucker’s back teeth had clenched. His fingers threaded with Dawn’s.
“The DNA was not Jason Frost’s.” Samantha eased out a low breath. “But as I said...it is a partial match. My techs believe that it’s highly likely that a close relative of Jason’s left that evidence behind. The DNA sample matched Jason’s profile at most, but not all of the loci, and therefore the only conclusion that could be reached is that the killer we’re after here is, in fact, genetically linked to Jason.”
Linked. Related. A dull ringing filled his ears. “It’s not me.” He was the only relative left. His hold tightened on Dawn. He turned his head, needing to stare into her eyes as he said, “It’s not me.”
Her gaze was wide, stunned.
“No.” Samantha spoke quickly. “Your DNA is also in the system, and...after Bowen called me from Baton Rouge, I had the techs triple-check the results for me.”
Fucking triple-check? She doubted me, too?
“The DNA found on the gloves matches some of your loci, too, Tucker, but not all. Again...our data indicates that the killer is related to you.”
He couldn’t read the emotions in Dawn’s eyes. He only knew his own disbelief and fury were about to tear him apart. Tucker swung his head back toward Samantha. “I have no relatives. My mother is dead, she was an only child, and my father is long gone, too. He had a brother, but the guy passed away when my father was ten. There is no other family. There was me. There was Jason. That was it.”
There isn’t another relative. There isn’t another killer.
Yet...
There had to be.
“There is no mistake with these results,” Samantha continued as her chin lifted. “The analysts are paid to be very, very thorough.”
“I don’t understand.” Dawn’s hand was still in Tucker’s but her gaze had darted to Samantha. “You’re saying Jason has...what? A cousin out there? Another family member who is picking up where he left off?”
“Tucker was in New Orleans.” Anthony’s rough voice. “Did he tell you that, Dawn?”
A furrow appeared between her brows.
Anthony stalked toward Tucker. Anger seemed to hum in the air around him. “I did some digging on you when Bowen called in with that story about Heather’s boyfriend. I knew you and Samantha Dark were in Fairhope, Alabama, around that time. You guys made coverage in all the news outlets, didn’t you? Stopping the Sorority Slasher.” His lips twisted. “But you didn’t go back to DC when the case was done, did you?”
Fuck. “No, I didn’t.” He squeezed Dawn’s hand, but then he let her go. “I had some vacation days due and I took them.”
Anthony was smirking. “Right. Vacation. And you want to tell Dawn just what town you decided to visit for that vacation?”
Samantha already knew. Bowen knew. He could see it in their eyes. Anthony had done his digging, all right, and he’d immediately told them what he’d found.
“You were more than ready to have my partner play the role of the killer.” Anthony’s gaze glittered. “But you were holding back truths about yourself the whole freaking time, weren’t you?”
“It wasn’t relevant.” He locked down his control. He couldn’t let his own rage out as he talked to Anthony. He had to play this right. Stay focused.
“Hell, yes, it was.” Anthony pointed to Dawn. “Does she know that you were in New Orleans? That after you wrapped up your case in Alabama, you came here? Right at the same time Heather was supposedly visiting her FBI lover?”
Fuck me. “I never saw Heather. I didn’t know the woman at all. The first time I saw her face...it was when I was looking at her crime scene photos.”
“Why come back to New Orleans then? Why were you here?” Anthony pushed.
“Plenty of people come to New Orleans.” It was the first time Dawn had spoken. Her voice was stilted. “Happens every day.”
Anthony shook his head. “Bullshit. He came for you, Dawn.” He paused a moment and his head cocked as he studied her. “You know how you said you felt watched?”
“She was being watched!” Tucker exploded. “The killer was in her home, he was—”
“You were watching her,” Anthony accused grimly. “You came to New Orleans then because you wanted to see Dawn. Only that wasn’t your first trip to spy on her, was it? I kept checking, kept digging through your travel history. Since she moved to the area, you’ve come at least once a year to keep tabs on her. To watch her.” He swallowed. “You know what I’d call that shit? Stalking.”
“Tucker?” Dawn’s fingers touched his arm. “You were...here?”
Don’t lie to her. But his gaze swept the group. Two agents on his own team and one NOPD detective who hated his guts. “Is this an interrogation?” His voice was mild because it had to be. If he played this scene wrong, he knew where he’d wind up. “I thought you just said my DNA wasn’t a match to the killer’s.”
“Maybe you’re covering for another family member,” Anthony threw out. “Blood comes before anything else, right? Isn’t that the way it always was for the Frost family?”
“Your DNA didn’t match completely,” Samantha affirmed. She exhaled on a sigh. “But we do need you to come down to the station and answer some questions for us.”
This wasn’t a briefing. It was them...coming for him. Coming to take him downtown. “And Dawn? What about her?”
“I’ll take care of Dawn.” Anthony was adamant. “And I won’t be working my own agenda.” Disgust was even thicker in his voice as he said, “You couldn’t let go, could you? You could never let go.”
This wasn’t happening. “I’m not involved in these killings and I’m not protecting anyone.”
“Torez got hauled in. You can bet your ass you’ll get grilled, too,” Anthony swore.
This time, he knew the cop was right. He was about to get grilled. And it wasn’t going to be pretty.
“We should all head to the station.” Samantha was the calm in the face of Anthony’s storm. “You, too, Dawn. I’d like for you to accompany us.”
“Tucker.” Dawn’s voice. Sharper now.
His shoulders stiffened.
“Were you here? Did you come to New Orleans?”
“Yes.” He made himself look into her eyes. “I was here, and Anthony is right. I’ve been here before, too.”
“Tucker...”
He locked his hands around her shoulders. “I was here, but not to stalk you. Not to scare you. Not to do anything to hurt you in any way, baby.” The endearment slipped out and he knew the others heard it. Screw it. “I needed to check in and make sure you were all right. My brother tried to destroy you. I had to see you. I just had to know that you were okay.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? You never spoke to me in all of those years—”
“Because the last time we were together, you screamed when I touched you.” A bitter truth he hated to say in front of the others. “I just needed to see for myself that you were all right.”
“Sounds like an obsession to me,” Anthony muttered. “Like I said, some guys can’t let go, no matter what.”
He didn’t speak. Because maybe, maybe the guy was right. Maybe he was obsessed.
And when Dawn looked at him, did she see that truth?
He was afraid that she might.
* * *
THE POLICE STATION was a hum of activity. Phones were ringing. Voices were shouting out. Chaos reigned.
Dawn sat, hunched on a bench near the bullpen. Tucker had been taken to the back. He’d disappeared with Samantha and Anthony and the police captain. Bowen paced a few feet away, casting her curious glances every few moments.
“It’s not Tucker.” Her voice was harsh. So what? She felt harsh. And she was tired of sitting around, having everyone in the whole world seem to watch her. Dawn surged to her feet. “This isn’t him. Someone is trying to set him up.”
Bowen ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t speak. Didn’t offer up a quick, heartfelt affirmation that, no, his teammate couldn’t be involved in the killings.
Silence could be its own condemnation.
“It’s time for me to do what I actually do best.” Her hands were shoved into the pockets of her jeans. “Investigate. So you stay here and you guys question Tucker all day if that’s what you want to do, but I’m going to talk with Julia—Dr. Bradford. I want to know just what she’s found in her autopsies.” She turned on her heel and marched away from him.
“Dawn!”
She kept right on marching.
He caught her arm just as she was about to head out the gleaming glass doors at the front of the station. “You’re under protective custody. You just can’t—”
“I’m going to talk to the coroner. You want to tag your ass along, fine. But don’t get in my way. Don’t slow me down.” Her emotions were rioting. A partial DNA match. There couldn’t be another Frost out there. She knew the family—there weren’t any other relatives in Baton Rouge. It had always just been the two brothers. No cousins. No one else.
When Tucker’s father had died—God, the truth he revealed will haunt me forever—no one else had stepped forward to help the boys. Jason turned eighteen a few days after they’d buried their father, so he’d taken over custody of Tucker.
She shoved open the door and stepped out into the too-bright sunlight. She blinked quickly and wished she had a pair of sunglasses. The reporters weren’t camped out in front of the station—a good thing because she didn’t want to battle them. She’d heard Samantha and Anthony mentioning that a press conference was scheduled for later that day. Maybe the reporters were just biding their time until then.
“You’re one hundred percent certain of the guy?”
Bowen had followed her. Big surprise.
“He’s not the killer.” She hurried down the street. She’d just caught sight of a news van. So at least one reporter was there. Dawn lowered her head and hunched her shoulders, not wanting to catch the attention of that crew.
Bowen kept pace with her. “But he...is a killer. We both know that. He killed Jason for you.”
As soon as she crossed the street—and got away from that news van—Dawn spun to face Bowen. “Let’s be clear. Tucker killed Jason to protect me. Not because he’s some psychotic murderer, and, yes, I believe that with certainty. I trust him.” She started marching again.
“You didn’t trust him before. After Jason’s attack on you, you kicked him out of your life. Why? What happened to make you fear him so much then?”
“Really? Here? On the street? This is where you want to have this conversation?” At least they were far enough away from the station that prying eyes weren’t on her, and, since it was early in the day, the area was fairly deserted. Her eyes narrowed on him. “Fine. But you already know this. I was a broken twenty-one-year-old girl. A serial killer had just spent hours torturing me and telling me that the man I loved was in on his crimes. He’d told me—”
“Wait.” His face had gone grim. “Jason said Tucker was involved?”
Crap. Now she was making mistakes. “Jason Frost was a liar. A manipulator. He wanted to cause me maximum pain, and he did.” By breaking my heart. “Tucker came. He saved me. He killed his brother to keep me safe so that—”
“Did you ever wonder if he killed his brother so that Jason couldn’t tell you the truth about Tucker’s involvement in the Iceman crimes?”
She felt sweat trickle down her back. It was early in the day, but the humidity was already like a blanket covering her. “Is this some kind of good cop, bad cop bit? Were you told to grill me and see if I had doubts about Tucker?”
He stared back at her. A car whizzed past them. “Do you?”
Her chin notched up. “Screw off, Agent Murphy. If you won’t back your own teammate, you’re no good to me.” She whirled away from him and hurried down the street.
* * *
“YOU UNDERSTAND, OF COURSE, why we needed to bring you in for questioning.” It was Captain Harold Hatch who spoke. He rubbed his chin and assessed Tucker.
“Yeah, I get it.” Didn’t mean he liked it. Tucker waved his hand toward the others in the room. A watchful Samantha. A glowering Anthony. “You want to make sure I’m not some serial killer...”
“Or that you’re not protecting one,” Hatch murmured, his bushy brows lowering over his brown eyes.
“Again,” Anthony added.
Tucker’s fingers pressed lightly on the table. “I didn’t protect Jason before. I don’t know who this killer is, but I’m not doing anything to help him.” Partial match. His head had been spinning ever since Samantha had dropped that bombshell. He didn’t think the match was bullshit. He did wonder though...
Who is it?
Was it possible that Jason had a son out there? Or maybe...maybe their dad had even had another kid? They’d never seen their dad with another woman after their mom died, but, maybe...
“Have you been stalking Dawn Alexander?” Hatch asked.
He was leading the interview. Samantha had a personal relationship with Tucker, so she was hanging back, and Anthony...well, the captain had pulled rank on him.
“No,” Tucker said quietly. “I haven’t.” Rage would get him nowhere. He had to answer the questions, play his cooperating role, and then he’d get back to Dawn.
“What about the trips you took to New Orleans? Were you just here because you enjoyed our jazz music?” Hatch’s voice was doubting.
Samantha watched him with a hooded gaze. He should have told her about the trips. When she’d first come to him with the case, he should have mentioned that he’d been visiting New Orleans. But, shit, he’d thought it wouldn’t matter.
He’d been wrong.
Tucker chose his words carefully. “My brother nearly destroyed Dawn’s life. I checked up on her because I felt...protective where she was concerned.” His response was calm. He knew how interrogations worked. And he knew how not to fuck one up. “I didn’t think she wanted to see me, so I made sure not to intrude in her life.”
“So...what?” Anthony butted in to ask. “You were some kind of guardian angel for her? Is that what you’re saying?”
Tucker’s head cocked as he studied the detective. “No. I’m saying I wanted to look out for a woman I’d cared about.”
“Cared. Past tense.”
Tucker didn’t blink.
“Do you have a relationship with her now?” Hatch grilled him.
Watch yourself. They’re trying to catch you in a lie. “Yes.”
Hatch’s eyes widened. What? Had the guy been expecting him to lie? Tucker knew better. He’d called Dawn “baby” in front of too many people earlier. He’d let his emotions slip out. Covering now would be senseless.
Hatch flattened his hands on the table as he leaned forward. “We found your prints inside Jinx Donahue’s home.”
“That’s because I went inside with Dawn. We searched the place together.”
“And you just happened to be present when the roses were found at Dawn’s place.”
“Right. I was there with her. She actually found them first, but I went in a few moments after her and saw them.”
“You went in her bedroom,” Anthony said.
Tucker raised his brows. “That’s where the roses were left, yes.”
“Dawn didn’t tell me that someone had been watching her...” Anthony’s cheeks were red. “She was friends with cops, but she didn’t mention feeling watched, not until you came here and got back in her life. Why is that? Why only talk about what was happening now?”
“Because she didn’t have proof. She didn’t want to go to you without proof.”
Anthony smirked. “Odd, isn’t it? That there was no physical proof left behind, not until the moment you arrived in town.”
“Not so odd, really. I came to town because of the killer. He was escalating, obviously. Perhaps my presence in Dawn’s life even pushed him over an edge.”
“Or perhaps you engineered everything that is happening here,” Anthony said, voice cutting, “just so that Dawn would be afraid once more. So that she’d need you...and you could have a way back into her life. A way back to the relationship that you’ve never been able to let go.”
“That’s certainly one idea,” Tucker murmured. “But it’s the wrong idea.” He kept his pose easy as he stared at the others. Showing aggression now would only work against him. It was a good thing he’d had so long to practice controlling his emotions. “You are the ones who contacted my team. I didn’t come here on my own—”
“We contacted you because the scene looked exactly like the Iceman’s kills. You could have staged that deliberately.” Anthony had taken the lead from Hatch and, apparently, the captain wanted to see just where his detective would go with this line of questioning.
“And the DNA evidence?” Tucker asked, raising a brow. “Where did I find a partial match for—”
“Your father.” Anthony smirked at him, eyes gleaming. “You’re a smart son of a bitch. Had to be, right? Former SEAL. Highflier in the FBI. I’m betting you know plenty about evidence. Specifically, how to leave behind the evidence that you want others to find. I mean... I just didn’t get it. Why would the killer leave his gloves for Red to take? Why do that, unless he wanted that evidence to eventually be discovered?”
Tucker didn’t let his body stiffen.
“Maybe you kept DNA from your father. Hell, for all I know, maybe those were your father’s gloves. You kept them, then you dumped them. Maybe they were your security in case we didn’t call the FBI in right away. You were counting on the PD down here running tests on the gloves and then, when we did—bam—there would be a link to Jason Frost. You knew when we found the partial match we’d be calling your office. Calling you. Just like you’d planned all along.”
“That’s one interesting theory,” Tucker murmured.
“Like it, do you?” Anthony gave him a cold smile. “Because I’ve got more.”
Can’t wait to hear this.
“You got to Red before I did. Before anyone else did. When I got to the motel, you were the one standing over that poor man as he took his last breath. At the time, I thought it was coincidence, but now...now I’m wondering...did Red know too much about you? Did he see you with Heather’s body? And you had to kill him?” A beat of silence. “It’s such a fucking coincidence to me that Rowan Jacobs described the killer to us...a man who fit your description perfectly.”
Tucker eased out a slow breath. One, then another. Don’t let him push too far. “You have been working up a lot of theories.” His voice wasn’t mocking. It was flat. “But that’s all they are. You want the truth?”
“That’d be nice,” Hatch growled.
“I was in DC when I got the news about this case.” He inclined his head toward Samantha. “My team leader briefed me, and I agreed to come down here because my job is to stop killers. I got on the plane and I got my ass down to New Orleans. I immediately started working the case, and, yes, that brought me into contact with Dawn.” His gaze swept to Anthony’s. “But you know that already.”
Anthony grunted.
“I didn’t plant evidence. I didn’t kill Red. I tried to save him.” Tucker’s shoulders rolled back. “The real killer is out there. And by focusing on me, you’re just wasting time.”
* * *
IT WAS COLD in the coroner’s office. Dawn shivered when she walked inside. “Julia?” Bowen was a few steps behind her, a shadow she couldn’t seem to shake.
Dawn heard the murmur of voices, and when she rounded the corner, her gaze fell on Julia, clad in her white lab coat. Julia wasn’t alone, though. Macey was at her side, and they were both hovering over a sheet-covered body.
“You shouldn’t be here.” Julia’s eyes immediately filled with worry. “Dawn, I’m still working on the autopsy for Jinx. You don’t want to be here.”
Jinx was under that sheet?
Dawn stilled.
Julia pulled off her gloves, tossed them into the trash and then hurried toward Dawn. “You don’t want to be here,” she said again.
Dawn couldn’t pull her gaze off the sheet.
Julia touched her arm. Dawn flinched.
“Let’s go outside,” Julia said quickly. “We can talk out there—”
“She suffered.” The words were out before she could even think. “I saw—when I opened the freezer...he’d cut her.” Marks that matched Dawn’s. Or at least, that was what she’d thought at the time. “Were the marks...the same?”
Macey had come up behind Julia. Like the coroner, she was wearing a white lab coat and gloves. She took off her gloves and Dawn saw her gaze jump to Bowen.
“They were the same.” Julia’s face showed her sorrow. “I’m sorry.”
“She worked so hard to cover up my scars.” Her heart squeezed in her chest. “And he just marked her to match me.” Why? “Did you hear...the FBI has a partial DNA match? They think the killer is someone related to Jason Frost.”
Julia licked her lips. “I...heard that.”
“Have you found any evidence to back that up?” Or, more important, any evidence to discredit that idea?
“I recovered skin cells,” Julia murmured. “Just a few moments ago. From beneath Jinx’s fingernails. Even though she was bound, she fought her attacker.”
Jinx had always been a fighter. Once more, Dawn’s gaze went helplessly to that white sheet.
Jinx is here. Heather is here. Red is here. And even that kid—Rowan—he’s dead, too. So many dead.
“Macey, can we talk outside?” Bowen’s deep voice asked.
Macey gave a quick nod, and they walked away. The lab doors swung shut behind them. Dawn’s shoulders sagged a bit. Now, alone with Julia, she could lower her guard. “I hate this so much,” Dawn whispered.
Julia nodded, swallowing.
“I need something to help me find this bastard. He’s out there, hunting, and the cops took Tucker in for questioning.” Her chin lifted. “He didn’t do this. I know it.”
“Sometimes, we don’t know people as well as we think.”
“I know him.” She wouldn’t let fear control her again. She’d just found her way back to Tucker. She wouldn’t lose him again. “Those cells you found—they are going to prove his innocence.”
Julia bit her lip, but didn’t speak.
“The killer is someone that Jinx was seeing, romantically. Malone told me that she had a boyfriend—this was the guy. Tucker couldn’t have been down here seeing Jinx. He was working cases with the FBI.”
“Maybe he slipped away...”
“No.” She was adamant. “It didn’t happen.” She was certain of this. “Jinx knew how I felt about Tucker.” Because one drunken night she’d told her. Why was it that too much wine could always make secrets come out? “There are some lines that friends would never cross.”
Julia glanced back toward the covered sheet. “You’re so sure her lover and her killer are one and the same?”
No, she wasn’t. Damn it. “Have you done Red’s autopsy?”
Julia shook her head. “Not yet. It took so long to carefully thaw Jinx that—” She broke off. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“The killer attacked Red quickly. He didn’t use the Iceman’s MO. It was all about a fast kill with him. Since it was so fast, maybe he made a mistake. Left more evidence. I mean, if skin cells were found on Jinx, there has to be evidence on Red.”
Julia paced toward her desk. “I’ll check him, Dawn. I’ll be as thorough as possible. You know how seriously I take my job.”
Yes, she did. Julia was the best there was. If evidence was on him, she’d find it.
“I do know...” Julia tapped a manila file that sat on the edge of her desk. “Based just on a visual look at the wounds, I think that Red’s killer was left-handed.”
Dawn’s eyes widened. “Jason was right-handed. Tucker is right-handed.”
“I have to do a more thorough exam. This was just a superficial survey while I was waiting on...on Jinx.” She stumbled a bit over those words. “But the wound in his neck is deepest on the right-hand side, and it becomes shallower as it slices to the left. That’s the typical strike pattern of a left-handed attacker. It was a frontal attack, judging by the blood spatter at the scene, and in a front attack from a right-handed perp, the deepest wound on the neck should have originated on the left-hand side.” She lifted her hands toward her own throat, indicating the pattern of the attack. “The killer would have been covered in blood...”
* * *
“YES,” TUCKER SAID CAREFULLY. “I found Red. I had his blood on me—I was trying to save the guy’s life! I wasn’t the one who attacked him. The killer beat me to his location. I wish that I had arrived sooner. I could have stopped the perp. I could have saved Red.”
Silence. Still too much suspicion in the eyes of Hatch and Anthony. As for Samantha, he couldn’t read her expression at all.
“Were you intimately involved with Jinx?” Anthony asked.
“No. I never even met the woman. I’ve been in DC, working cases.” He gestured toward Samantha. “She can tell you I haven’t had any time off recently to run down here.”
“So it’s been a long time since you came down here to spy on Dawn Alexander.” Anthony looked oddly satisfied, as if the guy had just caught Tucker in a lie.
He’d caught nothing. “You can check my travel records—actually, I think you already have. The last time I was down here...it was right after we finished up the Sorority Slasher case. I made sure Dawn was doing well, and I left the city. End of story.”
“But it’s not the end,” Anthony said. “You’re here now...and the bodies are piling up.”
* * *
“SUSPICION IS HITTING Tucker hard,” Bowen said as he paced outside the coroner’s office. Macey didn’t pace. She just stood still, her unusual eyes following him. “Someone is setting him up, I’m sure of it. For Heather to say an FBI agent named Tuck was her lover...” He gave a low whistle. “This killer has been steps ahead of us all along. He wants Tucker to look guilty—”
“He’s discrediting him.” Macey pursed her lips as she seemed to consider all of the options. “There won’t be enough evidence to prove Tucker’s guilt. He’s been in DC with us all for the last few months...he hasn’t been down here checking on the body he had in a warehouse.”
Bowen stopped pacing.
“We originally thought Dawn was the killer’s end goal,” she mused. “Maybe it’s more about Tucker. Hurting him. Destroying what he values.”
He loved that woman’s mind. So deep and twisting. “Tucker values his job.”
“And if suspicion is thrown on him...the first step will be his removal from the case and our team.”
He nodded. “He’s being questioned by the PD now. They were saying we were trying to cover for one of our own. Detective Deveraux demanded to be in the interrogation. After the way Tucker went after his partner, the guy was obviously wanting some payback.”
“I don’t think he’s the only one.” Her gaze cut to the closed lab doors. “Tucker doesn’t have close ties to many folks. The only person that I think he truly cares about? She’s in there.”
He’d gotten that the first time he’d seen Dawn’s picture.
“The killer knows that, too. Hurting Dawn is just another way of hurting Tucker.”
She’d just said exactly what he thought. “The perp is going to try to kill her. Soon.”
“Yes. And with all this focus on Tucker...” She shook her head. “Samantha won’t have a choice. She’ll have to remove him from duty. He won’t be the one guarding Dawn any longer.”
It would be them. “If anything happens to her...”
Tucker will lose it.
“We have to make sure nothing happens,” Macey said. “We have to make certain that woman remains a survivor.”
* * *
“EVERY WITNESS IN this case keeps winding up dead.” Dawn couldn’t rub the chill from her arms. “Red, Rowan...”
Julia had sat down behind her desk. “My father is blaming himself for Red and Rowan. He thinks he should have kept Rowan at his restaurant, and then called the cops.”
“None of this is on Jones.”
“You know how he is.” Julia’s lips tilted at the corners. “He wants to save the world.”
“Reminds me of someone else I know.”
The faint smile vanished from Julia’s mouth. “You’re not going to wind up on my table.” She rose, and the wheels of her chair squeaked as she paced toward Dawn. “That’s not going to happen.”
A lump was in her throat. One that was very hard to swallow. “Trust me, that’s not on my to-do list.”
No humor lightened Julia’s eyes. “I look at Jinx, and I see you.”
Because Jinx had been so close to her. She knew me so well, but I didn’t realize she was keeping secrets. We all keep them, don’t we? And they don’t do anything but eat us up on the inside.
But maybe...maybe Jinx and her secrets could be the key to the crimes. “I need to go back to her place.” To my place. I’ve got the all clear now. The crime scene techs are done. I can head over and take a look around. Maybe she’d see something that the cops had missed.
Once more, her gaze turned to the sheet-covered body. I’ll find him, Jinx. I’ll stop him. She hurried forward and gave Julia a quick hug. “Thanks for your help. The next time I’m here, I’ll bring you a po’boy.” She turned for the doors.
“I meant what I said, Dawn.” Julia’s voice trembled. “Don’t wind up on my table.”
Dawn looked back at her. “I won’t. I promise.” She shoved open the doors and found Macey and Bowen huddled together in the hallway. They both looked up at her, their expressions guarded.
“I’m going home.” She kept her voice calm. “Tucker told me last night the police finished their investigation there.”
Macey nodded. “They did, but...are you sure that’s the place you want to be?”
It was exactly where she wanted to be.
Macey stepped closer. Dawn could see the worry in her eyes. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Macey pressed.
No, she wasn’t okay. “A killer is hunting me. Just how okay could I possibly be?” She was scared and she was pissed and she needed to do something before there was more violence and death.
Sympathy flashed on Macey’s face.
Dawn studied her and Bowen. “How do you feel about Tucker?”
And again, that guarded look came back to both of their faces.
“Do you think he could be involved?”
She was hoping for immediate denials. She got hesitations.
“I think...” Bowen spoke slowly. “I think Tucker Frost is a man with many layers. And secrets that he likes to keep.”
She knew all about his secrets, now.
“But do I think he’d torture women? Lock them in freezers and let them die?” He shook his head. “No. No, I have a real hard time believing the man I know would do that. But then...that’s why I’m not in the interrogation with him right now. I can’t be impartial.” He inclined his head toward Dawn. “And I don’t think you can be, either.”
“No, I can’t be.” That was part of the problem.
“Bowen’s about to collapse,” Macey said, pointing toward the other man. “He’s been working this case all night. He’s going to crash—”
Bowen frowned at her. “Dammit, Mace, stop worrying. I told you, I’m fine.”
“He’s going to crash,” Macey continued doggedly, ignoring his words. “So I’ll accompany you back to your place.” Then she glanced at Bowen. “We’re going to need you later. Rest now, all right?”
His face seemed to soften as he looked at her. “All right.” But when he focused on Dawn, all that softening was gone. “Watch your ass.”
“I intend to.”
* * *
“ARE WE DONE?” Tucker asked as he glanced between Hatch and Anthony. He kept his voice mild, with an effort. He’d answered every question they had, again and again. He’d played the game the right way.
Hatch nodded grimly. “For now.”
Tucker rose. “It’s been real, gentleman.” A real pain in his ass. Someone is setting me up. He followed Samantha out of the interrogation room. They’d only taken a few steps down that hallway when he spotted Detective Torez. Torez was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, and his face was locked in hard, tight lines.
When he saw Tucker, Torez straightened. “Not so fun, is it?”
“No, it’s not.” Tucker’s gaze swept Torez. “But you learned that last night.”
Torez lifted his chin. “I’m not the killer. I made a mistake, but I would have never hurt Jinx.”
“And I didn’t do it, either. That means the son of a bitch who did is still out there.”
Some of the fury left Torez’s eyes. “Jinx was a kind woman. Smart, with a heart that was too soft.” Emotion thickened his voice. “She looked for the good in people. That was her fault. She always thought there was good inside. But sometimes, there isn’t. Sometimes, people are just rotten straight to their core.”
Samantha touched Tucker’s shoulder. “We need to talk in my office.”
Her office. Right. The NOPD had given her team work space. Tucker turned away from Torez and followed Samantha inside the little room to the right. As soon as the door shut behind them...
“Thanks for having my back,” he said.
One dark brow rose. “Is that what you think happened in there? That I had your back?”
She hadn’t been grilling him. She’d been silent, watchful, the entire time.
Now he studied her with a more careful gaze. “You think I’m guilty?”
She sat behind the desk. Her head tilted as she looked up at him. “Secrets are dangerous. The longer you keep them, the more power they have to hurt you. Or the ones you care about.”
He stepped closer to her.
She never changed expression as she continued, “I had a very good friend who kept terrible secrets. He liked to hurt women. Liked to torture them and see how they reacted to the pain.”
He knew she was talking about Dr. Cameron Latham. Her former lover. The man who’d been revealed to be the infamous Sorority Slasher.
“I didn’t see him for what he was. For too long, I looked at Cameron, and I saw what I needed him to be. Because I missed the truth about him, I started to doubt myself. My beliefs about people, my judgments about their character. Trust...” Her lips twisted. “Trust is very hard for me even on good days.”
“You don’t trust me. You think I could be involved—”
“I think...” She sighed. “Because of my past—because of yours—we are under a special microscope here. The brass at the FBI is watching, and sometimes I wonder if they’re waiting for us to fail.”
He didn’t know what to say.
“I have to remove you from this case now. You realize that. I know you do.”
Fuck, yes, he’d known this was coming but that didn’t mean—
“And I need you to stay away from Dawn Alexander.”
“No.” An immediate denial. When it came to Dawn, he knew exactly what to say.
Samantha held up her hand. “We’re going to continue giving Dawn protection. Her safety isn’t an issue.”
“Samantha, this is bullshit. You originally wanted me on this case because of my personal involvement.”
But she shook her head. “I wanted you on the case because I knew that you understood Jason Frost. Your tie to him would allow you to see if this killer was truly emulating the Iceman’s crimes or not. It would allow us to potentially predict the killer’s movements, but...this case isn’t going the way I intended.”
No, it wasn’t going the way anyone had intended.
“A partial DNA match.” She pressed her lips together. “I can’t overlook that. The evidence we have points to the fact that one of your family members is the killer.”
“I don’t have any family—”
“Maybe you don’t know about this person. Maybe your dad had an affair. Maybe it’s a cousin you didn’t know... But this killer is family, and I’ll be damned if I keep you around and wind up causing you to have to kill another blood relation.”
His eyes widened.
“You think I don’t see the guilt you carry? I do. You had to make a choice. Your brother or the woman you loved.”
The woman you loved. His shoulders stiffened. “I would make the same choice today.”
“I know you would. That’s why I want you away from here. You shouldn’t have to make that choice.”
There wasn’t a choice for him. “This guy is pulling me in. He’s deliberately trying to incriminate me. He gave Heather my name. Hell, he let her believe that he was me.” His hands were fisted at his sides. “He’s trying to make me look guilty, destroy all credibility I have. And you think I can just walk away from this? Get on a plane and head back to DC?”
“I think it’s what you should do. Distancing yourself would undermine this perp’s plan, and it’s quite obvious to me that he’s had a plan in place for some time.”
“Because he’s a cold, methodical killer.” Tucker raked his hand over his face. “Only I didn’t fully understand his motivation before. I thought it was about finishing what the Iceman had started. It’s not... It’s about...me. Me and Dawn.”
“Your supposed connection to Heather Hartley will find its way to the media outlets. It’s only a matter of time. Her roommate will talk... We’re lucky Bowen got to her first. As soon as the press discovers her story, you’re going to find yourself plagued by reporters. That much intensity will do nothing but hamper the investigation. I need you to back away from the case.” Her face was solemn. “If I had my way, I’d send you back to DC on the next flight, but the NOPD has requested that you stay in town...because you’re a person of interest for them.”
Fuck. Because they still see me as a suspect. “Where is Dawn?” Was she still out in the bullpen? Was she waiting on him? He needed to talk to her and explain what was happening. The perp is setting me up. And the cops seem to be falling for the ruse.
Samantha took out her phone and read through a few texts. “She’s with Macey. They’re heading back to Dawn’s place. I told you, we’re going to make sure that Dawn is protected.”
He wanted to be with her. He needed to be the one at her side.
“I want you to back away,” Samantha said flatly. “And that’s an order, Agent. So you need to tell Dawn that you’re pulling back. From here on out, you’re not part of the official investigation team.”
No, he wasn’t part of the unit hunting the killer.
He was a fucking suspect.