Chapter Seven
The sun was shining. The waves were pounding against the shore—she could hear them through the open balcony door in her room. And Casey didn’t feel so safe any longer.
She opened the bedroom door and marched down the hallway. She headed into the kitchen and spotted Josh’s back as he leaned inside the open refrigerator.
“I can’t do this. I can’t just...stay here, indefinitely. It’s been over twenty-four hours since you brought me here, and I’m already going crazy.” Her words tumbled out too fast. Twenty-four hours. Twenty-four very slow hours had elapsed while she’d been in that penthouse. “I need to talk to Katrina again. I need to do something to help find that freak who attacked me. And just staying in here while that guy is out there, possibly lining up someone else in his sights—that isn’t me.”
The man rose and she saw his dark hair. Hair that didn’t belong to Josh. Her mouth dropped open a bit. She’d been so sure—
Tucker Frost stared at her, one brow raised. “I told him we’d be lucky if you lasted a day.” He shut the refrigerator door behind him.
She glanced around the quiet penthouse. “Where is Josh?”
“At the sheriff’s station. He needed to talk with Hayden Black.”
He’d left without telling her. Just...left? Why did that make her angry?
“He’ll be back soon—don’t worry.”
“I’m not worried,” she immediately replied. She wasn’t. She—“The disposable phone vanished from my room.”
“Right. Yes. Josh took it. With him leaving, he wanted to make sure you didn’t get the urge to call your news buddies in his absence.”
So Josh hadn’t trusted her. “I can’t keep staying here.” Each word was snapped. Take a breath, Casey. Calm down. But she was going stir crazy. She hadn’t been outside in a day and staying cooped up, with nothing to do...it just gave her time to think about her attack. Over and over again. “I want to help.”
“You’re the only witness, the only survivor. Trust me, you are helping.”
“No, I’m hiding—there’s a difference.” And she’d come to a hard realization during the long hours that had passed. “If someone else dies while I’m here, that death will be on me.”
“No,” Tucker said flatly. “That will be on the killer out there. He’s the one who takes the life—he’s the one who has the responsibility.” His hand raked over his face. “No matter what anyone else will tell you.”
“I came here yesterday because the doctor said that in order for me to be released from the hospital, I needed someone to watch me. Josh said he’d take that job. And I—I wasn’t quite myself.” She’d wanted a safe harbor. “But there has to be more than just...this. If I don’t contact my boss again, I may not have a job. I can’t just sit here, waiting forever.”
The door opened behind her. She whirled around and saw Josh standing in the entranceway. His gaze slid from her to Tucker.
“Happened just like I said,” Tucker murmured. “Barely a day and she wants out.”
“What she wants,” Casey stressed, “is to help. To be of use. Not to be hidden away.” She hurriedly crossed the room and stood in front of Josh. “I want to help the investigation. I’ll keep a guard with me—I’ll play by the FBI’s rules, but staying here indefinitely just can’t happen.”
He shut the door and secured the lock. “Your face is currently on every TV in the area. Your story is showing constantly.”
She’d rather expected as much.
“You go out into the city, and you won’t be helping. You’ll be swarmed by your fellow reporters. They’ll close in like sharks.”
“But—”
“I need you.”
She blinked. Those hadn’t been the words she expected.
“Sheriff Black called me to his office today because there’s been a...development.”
A development?
“Before the attack, you’d been working to get an interview with Theodore Anderson.”
“Yes.” She nodded. “He hasn’t spoken to any reporters, and I wanted to interview him. I know it was a long shot, and his lawyer kept denying my request but—”
“He’s not denying it anymore. Theodore Anderson wants to talk. But only to you.”
Her eyes widened. “You aren’t serious.”
“Dead serious. That’s why I was talking to Sheriff Black. Anderson has been completely shut down since his trial, but suddenly, the guy is saying he’ll speak freely...to you. He doesn’t want his attorney present—he said he didn’t give a damn about his rights. He just wants to see...you.”
She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “My producer must be freaking out.”
“Yeah, I met him. Dear Tom was camped out at the sheriff’s station, demanding to see you. He wants to make certain you’re all right, and he wants his star reporter going in for that interview.”
She couldn’t miss that opportunity. “Theodore Anderson could have killed other victims. He hasn’t said a word to the cops—if he will really speak freely, there is so much I could learn from him.”
Tucker had come up to stand at her side. “The FBI has been wanting him to talk...”
“Yeah.” Josh rubbed the back of his neck. “And he’s said jack to everyone so far. But this could be a chance...”
Excitement had her rising onto the balls of her feet. “You’re going to let me out of here so I can see him?”
His hand fell. His eyes glittered. “We’re going to see him.”
“I don’t—”
“You just agreed to keep a guard with you. I’m that guard. And I’ll be going with you on the little visit with Anderson. Consider me your new assistant.”
“But...” But she didn’t know what to say.
“I don’t trust Anderson,” Tucker said quietly.
“Neither do I,” Josh immediately agreed.
It was hard to trust a convicted murderer.
“And for him to want to see you, Casey, right after your attack...” Josh whistled. “I don’t like it, not at all. Despite being locked up, he would still have access to the news in prison. He’ll know what happened to you.”
Her mind was spinning and there was a dark suspicion that she couldn’t ignore. For Anderson to want to talk with her now, after she’d escaped that creep with the knife... “There’s more here.”
Tucker cleared his throat. “There’s an...option we may need to explore.”
Her head tilted toward him.
“Two serials of this nature, both hunting in Hope...perhaps they are connected.”
Her lips parted. “You think the guy who took me knows Theodore Anderson?”
Tucker shrugged. Not an answer. “I think we can’t overlook any possible connections. At this time, everyone has been operating under the idea that Anderson committed his crimes on his own.”
“But what if he didn’t?” she whispered.
“What if,” Tucker continued, “there was always someone in the background?”
She understood exactly what Tucker and Josh wanted. “You need me to talk to Anderson and see if he’ll reveal anything about this perp.”
Josh didn’t look happy, but he said, “It’s too coincidental that he wants to see you now. We can’t let this chance pass us by. We need to go in and see what the guy will reveal.” But he seemed hesitant. “Are you up for this? Be sure...”
She’d interviewed killers before. She’d stared straight into eyes that she knew were pure evil. Casey’s chin lifted. “I’m up for this.”
“I’ll be with you every step of the way,” he promised.
*
THEODORE ANDERSON WAS being held in a maximum security facility. Getting in to see him took some time, and Josh made sure he stayed with Casey every moment. Once they finally cleared security, he led the way into the small conference room that they would use for their session. A table waited inside, and a video camera had already been set up for the talk. As part of the deal for that little one-on-one, the FBI would be getting the video footage. Later, once they’d reviewed it thoroughly, the Bureau would turn over the video to Casey and her producer, Tom Warren.
That was the deal.
He glanced toward the one-way mirror that lined the wall on the right. Tucker was behind that mirror, watching and getting ready to make his observations. Hayden Black was in there, too. Hayden had to be kept away from the prisoner. Things were too personal between them. Anderson had gone after the woman Black loved, a woman who happened to be an FBI agent herself.
And Hayden wasn’t exactly the forgiving sort.
Don’t blame him a bit.
“You know the questions to ask?” Josh asked as he paced the room. Anderson would be arriving any moment.
Casey shot him a slightly annoyed look. The bruising on her cheek had faded a bit today. He still hated the reminder of her pain. And he couldn’t wait to find the jerk who’d hurt her.
“I’m a professional,” she told him, a crisp edge to her voice. “I really don’t need my questions hand-fed to me.”
No, she didn’t. But those prepared questions had come straight from Tucker because the guy was trying to get into Anderson’s head.
She pulled out a chair at the table. She sat, with her back perfectly straight, right before the door opened. A guard entered first—young, with dark brown hair and dark eyes.
The prisoner came in after him. The man was tall, fit and wore the garish orange of a prison jumpsuit. The lines on Theodore Anderson’s face were deep, and his blond hair had thinned. His tan complexion had turned pallid since he’d been locked up. He shuffled forward, and Josh saw the shackles that connected from the lock around the prisoner’s ankles to his bound wrists.
Another guard followed Theodore inside. The two guards kept their attention on Theodore, obviously worried he might lunge at the pretty reporter as they steered him toward the table. But he didn’t lunge. Theodore just kept moving with those slow, shuffling steps.
A few moments later, he’d taken the seat across from Casey. His gaze swept over her, narrowing a bit when he saw the swelling and bruising on her cheek.
Josh rolled back his shoulders. He was standing to the side, his back against the wall as he stared at the prisoner—and at Casey. One wrong move from the prisoner, and the guards wouldn’t have to attack because Josh would be on the guy.
“Mr. Anderson.” Casey’s voice was smooth, calm. “Just why did you agree to see me today?”
He was silent—a silence that stretched a bit too long. Tucker had coached a disgruntled Casey before she went into the prison—trying to tell her how to use interrogation techniques. Casey had been adamant that she already knew plenty of techniques to use. And as she’d told Tucker and Josh, it wasn’t her first time interviewing a murderer. Not her first time, not even her fifth.
“Sorry about what he did to you,” Theodore said, hitching his head forward. His eyes were bright in his pale face. “Such a shame...”
“He?” Casey prompted.
Theodore smiled. Josh didn’t like that smile. Too cold. Too calculating. A monster’s smile. But then, he was staring at a man who’d killed his own daughter. Was there a worse monster?
“I heard the guards talking about what happened to you.” With his bound hands, Theodore gestured to the men beside him. “Seems the good people of Hope have more to fear than just me these days.”
“The people of Hope feared you for a very long time. A killer living right among them—someone they never suspected.” Her voice was still low and unemotional. “They felt sympathy for you, pity, because you lost your daughter.” She gave a brief pause. “They never realized that you were the one who’d murdered her.”
Theodore’s hands slammed down onto the table. “That wasn’t my fault!”
Josh—and the guards—immediately surged forward, but Casey waved them back. “Then whose fault was it?”
“Christy was never supposed to die! You think I’d go after my own daughter? No, no. I had a victim. Jill...sweet little Jill, but she got away. She got away and she messed everything up for me.”
Jill... Jillian West. The woman Hayden loved. The FBI agent who’d finally learned the truth about Theodore Anderson.
“Christy was the one good thing in my life.” Theodore’s shoulders slumped forward. “After she was gone...I was only left with...him.”
“Him?” Casey prompted.
Theodore looked up at her, squinting. “You ever stare straight at evil, Casey Quinn?”
She’s staring at it right now. So was Josh. He knew evil when he saw it. But Casey didn’t speak, she just waited.
The woman does know how to work an interrogation. She would have made a good FBI agent.
“I have. I saw it...in his eyes.” Theodore licked his lower lip. “He’s the one who took you. He’s the one who hurt you. Who hurt the others... I tried to keep him in check all those years, but now that I’m locked up in here...there’s nothing to stop him.”
Every muscle in Josh’s body locked down.
“You know the identity of the man who abducted me?” Casey asked, leaning forward.
Josh didn’t like that. He didn’t want her getting so much as another inch closer to Theodore Anderson.
The prisoner nodded. “He took you...and I heard what he did to those other women, too. He killed them. Always knew he’d be a killer.”
“Who is he?” Casey’s voice was strained now.
“Guess sometimes, it is in the blood, huh?” He expelled a long sigh, then looked regretful as he said, “The apple didn’t fall so far away, now did it?”
And Josh knew what the guy was going to say, even before Theodore Anderson smiled.
“The man who took you,” Theodore said, “the man who killed those others...it’s my son, Kurt.”
*
JOSH KEPT HIS body next to Casey’s as they exited the interrogation room. After his big reveal, Theodore Anderson had locked down, refusing to say another word. Apparently, he’d wanted to point the finger at his son.
And he had.
Josh opened the door to the right and led Casey inside the observation room. Tucker was on the phone.
“Yeah, that’s right,” Tucker barked into the phone. “I want to know where Kurt Anderson is right now. Find the guy and bring him to the sheriff’s station. I want to talk to him...Yes, yes, get him there, and I’ll meet you.” He hung up and swung to face Casey. “Good job, Ms. Quinn—”
“Casey,” she cut in. “Just...Casey, okay?” she slid away from Josh and moved toward the observation window. The glass showed them the now empty interrogation room. “Do we believe the guy? I’ve talked to Kurt Anderson a few times since coming to town.”
Behind her back, Josh and Tucker shared a long look.
“Kurt struck me as someone who was fighting a lot of grief and anger. He’d just found out that his own father murdered his sister years ago...and that he’d lived with that killer. He was hurting, but for him to suddenly start killing...” One shoulder lifted in a weak shrug. “Does that fit?” She looked back at Tucker, then at Josh.
“It could fit,” Tucker allowed. But he didn’t say more.
Josh just watched Casey. He was worried she was pushing herself too hard.
Her full lips pressed together. “You are not shutting me out now.”
“We should get going,” Josh announced. “It’s a drive back to—”
“I did this interview for you both. I got the guy to talk. Now you’re trying to pull some FBI rank and not share with me?” Her cheeks flushed. “Not cool, gentlemen.”
“You’re a reporter,” Tucker gently reminded her. When her eyes turned to slits, Josh figured she didn’t like—or need—that reminder. “And this is an active investigation. There’s only so much we can say to you.”
“I want the guy who attacked me caught! I want Kylie, Bridget and Tonya to have justice! I’m helping here. What happened to us being a team? What happened to that?” Her gaze raked them. “Or are we only a team when the two of you want to use me?”
“You’re the one who insisted on doing this,” Tucker replied, voice quiet. “And you’re the one who’ll get to air the footage later. You’ll have the scoop of the century, won’t you? So I think it’s a win for you.”
Her expression hardened.
No, it wasn’t a win. Tucker was misjudging her, the same way Josh had. Josh crossed to her side. “We should get going.”
Her gaze jumped to his face. “Do you think it’s Kurt?”
He thought it was possible, but his stare slid to Tucker and he replied, very carefully, “Just because a killer’s in the family, it doesn’t mean you have bad blood. Each person makes his or her own choices.”
“I’m going to find Kurt,” Tucker stated. “Josh, we’ll talk later.” Then he turned on his heel and marched out.
“It’s hitting too close to home for him,” she murmured. “Isn’t it?”
Yes, the case was. Because Tucker had a killer in the family, too. One who’d come far too close to destroying everything that Tucker loved.
Josh caught Casey’s hand in his. His fingers slid over her wrist, and he felt the quick jump of her pulse. “Let’s get out of here.”
“You still didn’t tell me whether or not you think the killer could be Kurt Anderson.”
No, he hadn’t told her, not yet. “Just how many times did you talk to Kurt?”
“Three times.” They walked down the narrow corridor, past the guards. The security doors were opened for them, one after the other. Soon they had cleared the checkpoints. Josh took his gun back and adjusted his holster.
“The last time I saw him...” She’d been quiet as they passed the guards. “We had a brief dinner on Friday night.”
She’d gone to dinner with the guy? Dinner...the night before she’d been abducted.
“I wanted to hear his side of things.” They walked out of the facility. The sun was bright, beating down on them. “He lost his sister. He was just as much of a victim as—”
“Casey!” a man’s voice boomed.
Josh tensed and his body immediately moved in front of Casey’s. His hand went to his weapon.
A man with black hair and thin-framed glasses rushed forward. He wore a suit and had a flashy watch around his wrist. A short-haired woman was behind him—Josh recognized Katrina, Casey’s camerawoman. And, unfortunately, he recognized the man, too. Tom Warren. Casey’s producer.
“Knew you’d get the exclusive!” Tom cried out. He tried to reach out and touch Casey. Josh just moved his body and prevented that touch. “Wait—what the hell are you doing?”
Protecting Casey.
Tom’s gaze sharpened on him. “Look, Agent Duvane, I get that you saved Casey, and I’m grateful, but you can relax. I’m not any threat to her.”
Josh didn’t relax.
A trickle of sweat slid down Tom’s temple. “Hey... I’ve got an idea.” He flashed a smile. “It would be great if we could get you both on camera. You know, some footage of Casey and the agent who saved her.” He motioned to Katrina. “Get the gear from the van.”
“Not happening,” Josh said flatly. “And for the record, Casey saved herself.”
“Right, right, yes, but I haven’t gotten all of those details yet.” Tom’s smile slipped. “Because I kept being told that I can’t speak to my own employee.”
Josh didn’t want the guy talking to Casey. And the other woman, Katrina, was shifting nervously from foot to foot. Obviously, she was wondering if she should follow Tom’s orders and rush to get the camera or if she should stay put.
“Casey.” Tom’s voice deepened. It took on a personal, almost possessive edge as he said her name. “I’ve been worried about you.”
Katrina slanted a quick, hard stare toward her boss.
Casey slid closer to Josh’s side. “I’m okay.”
“Your face.” His eyes were absolutely horrified as he stared at her cheek. “Katrina, get the camera.” He stepped toward Casey, lifting his hand to touch her cheek. “People need to see—”
Josh caught the guy’s wrist before Tom could touch Casey. “See what? Her pain?”
Tom’s pale blue eyes narrowed. “They need to see the damage that the monster did to her. When people see real pain, up close and personal, they have a more visceral reaction. The public loves Casey. They relate to her. We show the world what that SOB did to her, and everyone will be hunting for him.”
“Everyone is hunting for him now,” Casey said and her shoulder brushed against Josh’s arm. “But it’s hard to find a killer when no one knows what he looks like.”
Josh let go of Tom’s hand.
“You didn’t get a look at his face?” Now Tom sounded disappointed.
She shook her head.
“You must have noted something about him. Something distinct that we can lead with. His voice. Mannerisms. A stutter—”
“You aren’t leading with anything,” Josh said flatly. “Casey is leaving with me, right now.”
Tom’s mouth opened, closed and then opened again. Finally, he sputtered, “She works for me!”
Josh really didn’t like the producer. “And she’s in my protective custody. For the moment, I need her to stay off the radar. By going on-air again, she might just make the killer focus even more on her.”
Casey sighed. “He’s already come for me once. I don’t know that there can be more of a focus.”
Josh turned toward her. “Going on camera would be like shining a spotlight on yourself right now.” He didn’t want that danger gathering around her again. “Give me a little more time.” Time for them to find Kurt. To bring him in for questioning. Time to analyze the situation more. “Just—I’m not asking for forever. I’m just asking for you to stay off the air a little longer, let the agents and Sheriff Black do their jobs. Give us a little more time.”
“You can’t hold Casey prisoner,” Tom huffed. “You can’t keep her trapped in protective custody. I’m her boss, but I’m her friend, too. And I’m not going to let you trample over her rights!”
He wasn’t trampling over anything. He was trying to keep her alive.
“We’re both her friends,” Katrina muttered, her lips curving down.
Tom nodded. “Kat and I will stay with Casey. We’ll make sure she’s safe.” He waved toward Casey, as if expecting her to just walk toward him. “You really think I’d leave my top reporter without a guard under these circumstances? One phone call, and I’ll have two bodyguards at her side at all times. I mean, I appreciate your efforts, Agent Duvane, but isn’t your focus more on diving into the water? Evidence retrieval? Perhaps you’re just not suited to this role at all.”
He would so enjoy driving his fist into that guy’s face. But an FBI agent wasn’t supposed to do stuff like that. He wasn’t supposed to want to hurt a civilian. “My focus right now is on Casey. Her safety is the priority for me.”
Tom’s lips thinned. “Casey? Come on, you know I can get you the best protection money can buy. I can get—”
She slowly exhaled. “Thank you, Tom, but I’m going with the FBI right now. They’ve promised me an exclusive regarding new developments in this case, and the closer I stay to Agent Duvane, the better chance I have of being on scene when the killer is apprehended.”
A gleam lit Tom’s eyes. “They’re that close to catching him?”
No, they weren’t. And he didn’t remember making the promise Casey was talking about.
“I’m going to stay with Agent Duvane for at least the next twenty-four hours,” Casey continued, her voice brisk, as if she’d reached a decision and that was all there was to it. “Then I’ll be ready to go on-air again.”
Twenty-four hours. Well, that was better than nothing.
But Tom shook his head. “I need a report sooner than that. You have people waiting for you—you have—”
“Twenty-four hours,” Josh said flatly. “You heard the lady.” And if he had twenty-four more hours without that Tom jerk breathing down their necks, that would sure be a sweet deal to him.
“Everyone will tune in for the story, Tom,” Casey promised. “You know they will.”
And he could tell by Tom’s expression that, yeah, the guy knew she was telling the truth.
“I’m hoping you got something good in that place,” Tom said as he dragged his hand across his jaw. “Theodore freaking Anderson—can’t believe he finally agreed to an interview with you. I’ve been after that guy for ages. Casey, you are the queen.”
“We’re leaving.” Josh didn’t like standing out in the open with Casey, not even in a scene where dozens of guards were patrolling the grounds. He wanted her away from there—or maybe, maybe he just wanted her away from Tom.
“Here, take this.” Tom pulled a phone from his pocket and pushed it into Casey’s hand. “I think the cops took yours from the hotel, and I wanted to make sure you could contact me, whenever you needed me.” He slanted a hard stare toward Josh. “I got the feeling the last call was made on someone else’s phone, and I wanted you to have the freedom to call me anytime.”
The guy just seriously didn’t understand what protective custody actually meant.
Then Tom pulled Casey in for a hard, tight hug. “I was worried.” His voice had turned gruff. “You scared me. You’re too important to the show—to me. Nothing can happen to you.”
Josh saw Katrina’s face harden. She quickly glanced away from Casey and Tom.
“Agent Duvane will make sure I stay safe.” Casey eased from Tom’s hold. “And thanks for the phone.” She slid it into her pocket. Then she reached for Josh’s hand. “Ready?”
Hell, yes. He curled his fingers around hers and stalked toward the waiting SUV. He opened her door, made sure she was in securely, then he slammed the door shut. He glanced back and saw that Tom was still watching them.
Or maybe the guy is just watching her. Tom certainly seemed to have a personal interest in Casey. Josh headed around the vehicle and yanked his door shut after he’d jumped inside. He cranked the engine. Tom was still watching. “Your boss wants you.”
Her laugh was startled. “What? No, I told you already...he’s involved with Katrina. One of those friends-with-benefits type deals.”
Not really friends if the guy was her boss.
“He wants you,” Josh said flatly. He’d read the guy’s expression too clearly.
“Well, I’m not into him. Sleeping my way to the top has never been on my agenda. And I can’t do the with-benefits routine because—” But she broke off, not saying more.
He drove them out of there. “Because of your past.”
“Trust is hard. Being that intimate with someone... I don’t like to take risks.”
No, he got that. But what he didn’t get... “Why didn’t you go with them?” Tom had given her an out right then and there, but Casey hadn’t taken it.
“Because I wanted to stay with you.”
“I didn’t promise you an exclusive.” The Bureau brass would freak if they thought he’d been making any side deal with her. “The only thing on the table was your access to the footage from that little sit-down with Anderson.” A sit-down that had not gone the way he expected.
Kurt Anderson. He’d met the guy before, too. The man had seemed shaken, grief-stricken. And he’d been filled with a lot of rage. But Josh had thought all of that rage was directed at Kurt’s father.
Had he been wrong?
“I know, Josh.” Her soft sigh filled the car. “I lied,” Casey admitted without even a hint of guilt.
He cast a quick glance toward her.
“I wanted to stay with you,” Casey said again. “I...feel safe with you, okay? I mean, I’ve already told you the deepest, darkest secret that I have. You pretty much know me better right now than anyone else has known me in years.”
Why did that make him feel good?
“Even though you didn’t do an even secret exchange,” she added.
Maybe he’d make that up to her.
“Tom can hire bodyguards, I know that. I can hire my own guards. But right now, I’m where I want to be.” She paused. “But I do want a favor.”
A favor?
“In return for agreeing to stay in federal custody a bit longer, in return for the solid I did you by interviewing Anderson, I want you to take me back to the scene of the crime.”
He braked hard at the red light. “What?”
“I need to go back,” she said. “I think if I go back, I might remember something. It’s a technique I’ve had psychologists use with victims on my show before. I want to try. I want to go back to my hotel room, and then I want you to take me back to the beach house.”
Someone honked behind him. He didn’t move. “You know you can only get access to those locations if you’re with me...or with another federal agent.” Was that the real reason why she’d agreed to stay with him? “You realized that all along, though, didn’t you?”
She gave a disappointed sigh. “Do you always see the bad in people first? Or do you—sometimes—stop to see any good?”
There wasn’t always a lot of good in the world. The car behind him honked again, and Josh slowly accelerated.
“Come on, you know it’s in your best interest for me to remember more, too. So why not just take me to the scene? I’ll still be in protective custody. Your custody. And maybe I’ll see something that jars my memory. Maybe I’ll be able to find some clue that was overlooked before. There is nothing to lose by trying.”
No, there wasn’t. And while he took her back to the hotel and to the crime scene, he knew Tucker and the sheriff would be hunting Kurt Anderson. Soon, the case could be over. The killer could be caught.
And Casey would be free to go back to her old life.
The thought should have made him feel better. Oddly, it didn’t.
*
“I DON’T LIKE that agent.” Tom Warren stood with his hands on his hips, glaring after the SUV. “He’s acting like he’s in control of Casey.”
Right. Katrina barely controlled an eye roll. That was why the guy didn’t like Agent Duvane. “He is in control of her, right? I mean, the guy has her in protective custody.”
Tom marched toward his car—not just any rental. A Benz. Nothing but the best for Tom. Always. “Protective custody is a joke. I’ll make some calls and get the best bodyguards in the business down here for her. You think I’m going to lose my star to the FBI?”
His star? Did the guy even realize how possessive he sounded when he talked about Casey? Not that she was jealous. Katrina didn’t care enough to be jealous. Tom was fun—every now and then, anyway—but the guy could also be a Grade A jerk.
“I made Casey,” Tom continued grimly. “I’m not about to lose her this way.” He stopped by the car and pulled out his phone. His finger swiped across the screen and a slow smile stretched across his face. “Got you.”
Unease coiled through her. Just who did the guy have?
“Come on. Get in the car.” Now his words were clipped. “I’ll drop you off in town and then take care of business.” Impatience gritted beneath each word.
“You don’t want me to get some scene shots of this place? For the show later?”
He huffed out a breath. “Yeah, yeah, just hurry, okay?”
She took out her equipment from the backseat. She turned away so that she could eye the buildings and the guards—
“Do you think they’re sleeping together?”
Katrina almost dropped her bag. “What?”
“Casey and the agent. I noticed the way he touched her—and the way she touched him. Casey doesn’t touch anyone, not as a rule.”
No, she didn’t. Katrina was just surprised that Tom had noticed that. Casey was always very careful with everyone. She kept them all at the same distance.
“She just met him,” Katrina replied, trying to choose the right words. “Casey never gets involved with anyone that way—not right after they meet.” Not the other woman’s style. But then—Casey’s style wasn’t for attachments. She lived for her work. The woman was dedicated, tireless, and Katrina actually admired the hell out of her. Casey didn’t take crap from anyone.
Good for her.
“You’re right.” He gave her an absent smile. “Still, it would have made for a good angle, right? The victim falling for the FBI agent.”
She stiffened. “Casey’s more than just a victim.”
“Not right now, she isn’t.” He waved a hand toward her bag. “Get the shots. I don’t have long.” He looked back down at his phone. “I can’t let her go.”
That whisper of unease blew through her again as she turned back to the prison. So many guards—and such big, thick walls. No escape. And the idea of being locked away in a place like that...it chilled Katrina’s blood.