CHAPTER FOUR
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“We have a problem.”
Sawyer couldn’t believe he was in this position, but he refused to put Camryn in even more danger than she already was by having her right next door to the potential target of a sadistic serial killer. This entire part of the investigation had been a gigantic clusterfuck from the very beginning. It was time to take this problem and get as far away from here as possible.
“What kind of problem do you have?” Calvert asked, his connection coming across as if he were in a tin can. It didn’t prevent Sawyer from hearing idle curiosity in the man’s tone. Townes was always serious, yet there was a laidback quality in him that managed to provide any situation with a sense of straightforwardness. “Does it have to do with your objective or is it more of a personal issue?”
“No, it’s something else entirely.” Sawyer sat back in the desk chair he’d pulled over to the kitchen table. The black leather cushioned chair was a hell of a lot more comfortable than the wooden ones that matched the oak dinette set. It was only zero five hundred, so he didn’t expect Mary Baker to leave her house for another hour and a half. That gave him ninety minutes to figure out what he was going to do about Camryn Novak. “It has to do with Brody’s little sister.”
“I’m sorry, I must have heard you incorrectly.” There was a large clanking sound of a jailhouse door closing that indicated Calvert was still investigating Moss’ escape from the Union Correctional Institute. Interviews were being conducted with the guards and inmates regarding his breakout, so Sawyer needed to make this quick. “The connection in this place isn’t the best.”
“You heard me right.” Sawyer didn’t want to be in this position any more than Calvert wanted to hear that there was about to be a slight detour in their investigation. “Camryn Novak was targeted by someone last night upon her visit here in New Orleans. She was intentionally pushed off a curb on Royal Street, hitting her head hard enough to send her to the emergency room. The doctors wanted her to stay for observation. She refused.”
The silence on the other end of the line gave Sawyer time to take a drink of his now lukewarm coffee and glance at his watch. He’d woken Camryn up every hour, on the hour, throughout the night. She’d taken one of the bedrooms…in one of his white tank top T-shirts. He firmly pressed his thumb and finger against his eyes, trying to dispel the sensual image that kept tormenting him.
She was Brody’s sister, for God’s sake.
This was payback for all the times he razzed Brody about having a beautiful sister who was an actress. This all fell on him due to karma. Now he was paying the price.
“I have a few questions, but first I’d like to know if she’s all right.”
“Yes, though she did suffer a concussion, for which I followed protocol,” Sawyer admitted with a touch of anger at the possible implications of having done so. Currently, most of his irritation was all directed at the scumbag who thought he could get away with harassing a celebrity in the middle of a crowded party. The rest of his resentment was toward himself for having landed in this pile of shit. “I’m about to turn over my findings to the local police.”
“Now that we have that out of the way, is there an explicit reason she chose to call you? More specific, how did Camryn Novak even know that you were in New Orleans in the first place?”
Sawyer quickly drained what was left of his coffee, knowing full well he was going to need a hell of a lot more of the stuff to get through this day. He stood and walked over to the newly installed white laminate countertop that wouldn’t have been his first choice considering the natural stained hickory cabinets. It occurred to him that he should be thankful it wasn’t pink, but he couldn’t summon enough vigor to care. It would serve Brody right to know that his sister was staying in the same house he’d set Sawyer up in for the duration of this investigation. Unfortunately, he couldn’t do that to Camryn.
“I ran into her by chance at the airport in baggage claim.” Sawyer poured the last of the coffee that had been in the glass carafe. He then yanked the used filter out of its holder, going about making a fresh pot. He and Camryn would both need it after what he had to tell her, but first he had to get through this phone call. “I might have given her my number at some point.”
“Might?” Calvert didn’t need to say anything else, and Sawyer was grateful when his boss left well enough alone. “Foregoing that red herring, is there a reason Ms. Novak didn’t contact her brother?”
“Yeah, and that’s where it becomes rather complicated.”
“Sawyer, I haven’t been awake nearly long enough this morning to deal with this kind of horseshit.” Calvert must have just arrived at the prison to conduct more interviews, but that was just too damned bad. Sawyer wasn’t going to be the only one with this shit hanging over his head. “Deal with it. When you give your SITREP this evening, I don’t expect to hear Ms. Novak’s name come out of your mouth since it isn’t relevant to the investigation to which you are currently assigned. Understood?”
“I wish it were going to be that easy, but I’ll have to use today to take care of her problem. There is one harbinger that seems to be worth noting. The guy who later assaulted her first handed her a note with her name on it…including a date that is two weeks out. Don’t worry. It’s not what you think.” Sawyer wasn’t going to sugarcoat what was about to take place, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to put Mary Baker’s life in danger while he cleaned up Camryn’s mess. Had Brody not treated his sister like she was a five-year-old little girl, Sawyer wouldn’t be in this position in the first place. “I have a qualified NOPD homicide detective covering my charge for the next twenty-four hours, but you had to know I’m off the grid. I don’t think this is connected to the investigation in any way, and as you stated, I don’t believe this is anything the team needs to know about.”
“In summation, Ms. Novak has you wrapped around her little pinky finger and managed to get you to promise not to tell her brother what happened.” Calvert must have pulled the phone away from his mouth, but it wasn’t far enough away that Sawyer didn’t catch the muttered curses. He’d said a few of those himself, though more colorful. After all, he was the one whose ass was in the proverbial sling. “Does that about quantify the situation?”
“I wouldn’t put it exactly like that, but yes, the end result is the same.” Sawyer turned to lean against the counter and wasn’t surprised to see a light turn on in Mary Baker’s bedroom. Zero five ten was the time that her alarm was set for, and she was a woman of habit—she never hit the snooze button. “As I said, it’s a little complicated. And you’re well aware that I don’t do complicated, so I’d like to take care of this before this investigation becomes more than a wait and see. I don’t want to have any more fish to fry, if you get my drift.”
“Twenty-four hours.”
The resounding click in his ear told him that his boss wasn’t too pleased with this turn of events. Well, he could join the club, because Sawyer sure as hell wasn’t skipping rope on the playground either.
“Morning.” Nathan Chadwick had that New Orleans drawl that the ladies loved, and he sure as hell tried to use his charm on Camryn last night. Sawyer had stopped the man in his tracks and experienced no guilt whatsoever. He was a player in every sense of the word. “I thought I smelled fresh java. Anything beats that black tar they make back at the station. What is so hard to understand about cheap-ass grounds being brewed into coffee? You’d think that they’d figure that one out with all of the detectives we’ve got drinking the stuff.”
Nathan stood taller than Sawyer’s six feet and had shoulders almost as broad as Calvert. Almost. He must still have that extensive workout routine he’d maintained in the service when he first met him, but it most likely came in handy when he had first been out patrolling the streets of New Orleans when he was new on the job.
That was years ago. Now, he was a lieutenant in charge of a squad of homicide detectives for his precinct. He didn’t handle too many stakeouts anymore. In fact, he was more of an administrator than anything else.
He was having one of his two sergeants handle the day-to-day operations while helping Sawyer out for a couple of days. Nathan only had to account to his captain for the time he was spending on a case that wasn’t really in their purview. His captain understood how these things worked, and there was always some form of give and take in these situations.
Nathan was only too happy now that a pretty girl was involved. He even smiled while glancing at his reflection in the windowpane above the sink. His dark brown hair was in need of a cut, according to Sawyer’s estimation. He had the appearance of a man without a care in the world. Only those who truly knew him well could see the man behind the easygoing persona.
“I appreciate you doing me this favor. I know you’re still on the job.” Sawyer stepped aside so that Nathan could reach the cupboard that held dime store mugs. They worked, though, and that was all that counted. “I just got the head nod from my boss, so you’re good to go if things heat up. I’ll make sure your PAL fundraiser is well compensated. Your squad is covered. You don’t need to hold bake sales at the office this year, I promise.”
Sawyer and Nathan had served together in the Corps back in the day, which also meant that his friend and Calvert were well-acquainted. Nathan hadn’t changed much over the years, with the exception of a mutually uncontested divorce under his belt. He didn’t talk about it, and Sawyer respected his privacy. Whatever happened weighed heavily on him.
As it stood, the only thing that mattered at this precise moment was Nathan’s expertise in the field. He had experience to spare when it came to killers and closing cases.
“I have a few days off coming if this side thing turns into something. You just gotta let me know so I can put in my request.” Nathan removed the glass carafe and stuck his mug underneath the brewing stream of coffee. He rested his palms on the freshly installed laminate and then turned to meet Sawyer’s gaze. “You failed to mention that you’ve moved up in the world since we last hung out.”
“It’s not like that, buddy.” Sawyer switched his concentration to the monitors, ensuring their charge was still in the middle of her morning routine. Had anyone crossed into Mary Baker’s yard, the sensors he’d set in place would have alerted him to the trespasser’s presence. The only worry they had encountered thus far was a tomcat belonging to one of the neighbors. “Camryn is the sister of one of my teammates. I’m just helping her out with a paparazzi problem.”
“I’d say a concussion qualifies as more than a minor problem, devil dog.” Nathan reached for his mug and then replaced the glass carafe back on the burner to catch any remaining coffee that dripped out of the filter. “Far be it from me to step on anyone’s toes. Go take care of what you need to do, and I’ll take over the babysitting job.”
Sawyer thought about going into further detail regarding Camryn’s predicament, but decided against sharing with Nathan when Brody was still being kept in the dark. That was something that had to be corrected, because he couldn’t stand the guilt that was eating a hole in his stomach at keeping the truth from a brother.
He quickly poured Camryn a cup of coffee with a touch of half and half. He recalled reading an article where she only took a bit of cream to mask the bitterness. He would purposefully pull up articles on Brody’s sister and leave them on the monitors back at headquarters just to get a rise out of Brody when some of the teammates would walk by and stop to read them. This game he’d played had somehow become more complicated than it should have become, and it was time to end the charade altogether.
Sawyer walked out of the kitchen toward the front foyer before turning on the heel of his Timberland Pro Titan soft toe work shoes to ascend the wooden staircase. The style fit in at Tulane University a hell of a lot better than his usual footwear. His combat boots were more comfortable, but these brown work shoes got the job done while blending in better.
Using his elbow, he flipped the light switch so that the hallway was bathed in a golden hue. He used the toe of his shoe to swing the door open. The beam of light landed directly on Camryn, who had shifted enough in her sleep to cause the sheet to be tangled around her legs. One of her arms was above her head, while her other hand clutched the soft fabric of his white T-shirt gathered just beneath her breast.
She was Brody’s sister.
Sawyer mentally said that statement once more as he gently sat on the edge of the bed. He didn’t want to startle her, figuring she’d have a lingering headache for days to come. He set his coffee on the nightstand before calling her name out softly.
“Camryn? It’s time to wake up.”
Sawyer was around fifteen minutes early in the hourly schedule he’d been keeping all night, but he needed to convince her to call her brother before they both took a trip down to the station to give her statement. He didn’t like that she hadn’t originally called the police after the incident, though he understood her reasoning. The bottom line was that she shouldn’t forsake her safety to avoid a headline in the morning’s papers.
“Camryn, it’s time to wake up,” Sawyer said with a little more force, pleased when he managed to capture her attention. Her lashes fluttered against her flushed cheeks. The slight wince when she shifted her head against the pillow made him want to take away all her pain, but he reminded himself that she wasn’t his to comfort. Technically, though, she was his concern until Brody was finally brought up to speed. “I brought you some coffee before we head down to the station.”
It didn’t surprise him that his declaration had caught her attention. She sat up quicker than he’d thought she would, though she paid the price. She rested her hand gently on the left side of her head as she narrowed her dark gaze.
Sawyer was coming to find that she was full of contradictions. Camryn was poised and conducted herself with a dignity one could only be born with, and yet she let slip her Chicago upbringing every once in a while by letting her street savvy surface. He steeled himself for the latter, considering she’d already fought him on this very subject last night at the hospital.
“I told you that I’m not officially reporting this to the police,” Camryn said, attempting to clear her throat from the leftover exhaustion. It didn’t work. “Were you able to—”
The vibration of her cell phone could be heard from the nightstand where he’d set his coffee. He reached for it before she could, giving her the coffee he’d brought for her instead. He then glanced down at the display on her phone and read that she’d missed thirty-one texts and twenty-seven calls, but it was Brody’s number that was appearing on the small screen at the moment.
“You need to tell your brother what happened before I do.”
“No,” Camryn exclaimed, grabbing the phone out of his hand and hitting the side button so that the call went straight to voicemail. She then tossed it on the bed before taking a sip of coffee and closing her eyes in appreciation. It wasn’t until she opened them that he could see the pain, and he was helpless to take it away. “I need this kept quiet. My publicist agrees, and involving Brody would only complicate things for me. I know you can’t possibly understand how his involvement can hurt my prospects, but they can…as they have before. I told you that. How about this? I can promise you that I will tell him after everything is taken care of and that you kept me safe and sound per my wishes.”
“Your publicist doesn’t have your best interests at heart,” Sawyer disclosed, ignoring the conversation about Brody for a moment. They would have to come back to it, and he would see to it that she did the right thing. In the meantime, they had more pressing matters. He unclipped his phone and used his fingerprint to gain access to the evidence he’d uncovered by going through an independent source who wouldn’t notify Brody. The confrontation—more like a bloody battle—that would ensue upon his teammate discovering what had taken place was inevitable at this point. “You’ve been targeted by this same individual for at least the last two years. Your trusted agent and publicist decided to keep you in the dark.”
Camryn had been about to take another sip of her coffee when she halted the mug halfway to her rosy lips. He looked away as she carefully took the phone from his fingers, almost as if it were a snake ready to strike. It was better for all involved if he took care of her little problem and then dumped the remaining ashes into Brody’s lap to sift through.
“I’m well aware that I—just as most everyone in my same line of work—gets attention from these types of people,” Camryn stated, cautiously setting her cup of coffee on the nightstand as she sat up to get a better look at the snapshots Sawyer had taken of the emails, physical letters, and some pretty twisted presents sent her way and intercepted by her agent over the last two years…and these were only from one particular individual. He’d left the other items from other entities out, leaving well enough alone. He certainly couldn’t blame Brody for his stance now that he’d seen evidence to which these people would go to in order to reach out to the object of their obsession. “This is…”
“Twisted? Yeah, I’d say your team of half-assed professionals certainly let things get out of hand.” Sawyer reached over and switched on the bedside light, purposefully keeping his eyes averted from the T-shirt forming to her tight, little figure. Twenty-four hours, he told himself. “You might want to get them on the phone, because we’re scheduled to meet with a Detective Decote in a little over an hour.”
“But I—”
“You wanted me to handle this your way,” Sawyer pointed out resolutely, pushing off the mattress and standing to his full height. He wasn’t going to bend on his belief that the authorities needed to be involved. Either she accepted that, or a well-placed call to her brother would take care of the rest. “We’re now handling it my way. You need to understand something, Camryn. Your brother and I deal with these sick fucks on nearly every case we’ve undertaken. They don’t just decide on their own to take their medicine or get treatment for whatever mental illness they’re suffering from, nor simply because someone with a badge pays them a visit. There are two ways this can go—we can get the authorities involved to make an arrest on more than sufficient evidence, as far as I’m concerned. Or we can wait for the police to arrest him after he kills you and everyone realizes just how sick he truly was. It’s a simple choice, really, so get dressed.”