CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Thames? Of all the things Sam thought she might say, he hadn’t expected her to name Thames. Sam moved his thumb slowly across her face and said gently, “Why are you running from Thames?”
Paige lowered her gaze and linked her fingers so tightly the tips whitened. Sam took her hands in his. He could feel her trembling.
“Thames has been tracking me for the last year,” she said.
“But Thames was incarcerated until last week. How do you know this?”
She looked up at him now, her gaze haunted. It cut Sam like a knife.
“You’re going to think I’m making this up, or worse, that I’m losing my mind.”
Sam could see she really believed what she was saying, and the knife cut deeper. “Why do you think I wouldn’t believe you?” Did she think so little of him that she expected he would brush her off?
“Because all I have is my word. That no longer means anything to anyone.” Paige uttered the words in a whisper.
It was then he realized that it wasn’t him she doubted, but herself. Anger firmed Sam’s mouth that her confidence in herself was so shattered. His hold on her tightened, and he bent down so their gazes were level. “Try me.”
Her eyes widened. Those beautiful brown eyes searched his, looking to see if he meant what he said. The raw hope in her gaze struck him hard.
Paige’s breath quickened. “Thames held a gun to my head on that mountain.” Goose bumps sprang up on the exposed flesh of her arms. “I’d lost control of that situation.” She shook her head. “No, that’s not right. I’d never had control. Thames had been in control the whole time.”
Paige paled. Sam kept her hands in one of his and wrapped his other arm around her.
“My squad arrived, and he dropped his weapon,” she went on. “At the time, I thought he was going to kill me.” Paige shook her head slowly, and her voice dropped. “But I don’t think he would have, not there, not that way. The way he looked at me, with interest, I think he would have waited and killed me as he had the others.” Paige shuddered and swallowed before she could continue. “When my squad arrived, I expected Thames would be angry that his plans for me were ruined, but he was smiling, and what was coming from him was . . . excitement, anticipation.
“I received the first postcard a few weeks after his capture. At first, I thought it was from one of the members of my squad. They weren’t happy with me after my actions jeopardized the case and were letting me know it. No one wanted to partner with me during training sessions. I got crank calls. Some photographs of Thames with big red lipstick kisses drawn on were taped to my locker. Other photos of him were left on my desk. On those, someone wrote my name and ‘For the defense.’ I found dog shit in one of my desk drawers.” She lifted one shoulder and let it fall. “Like that.”
Sam was angry that Paige’s squad had retaliated against her, but he latched on to yet another reference to a postcard. “Tell me about the postcard.”
“It was an image of the Adirondack Mountains. At Thames’s murder trial, he let me know that he’d sent it.”
Paige’s pulse fluttered in her throat as she told Sam about Thames singing her street address to her. Sam’s blood heated with fresh anger.
Paige’s eyes dimmed. “I ran that first postcard through forensics, and it came back clean. I went to my superior anyway. With Thames in custody, I considered that he might have someone watching me and Ivy. But without proof, Special Agent in Charge Lewis didn’t believe me.”
At the bleakness in her eyes, Sam’s back teeth ground together. Paige’s boss had dismissed her out of hand. How much of his decision was based on her performance on the mountain? Her poor judgment had surely stained her credibility. As she recounted the incident, Sam could see that her superior’s dismissal of her suspicions had been a blow to her spirit. Even worse, it had left her vulnerable to Thames.
What had Sam told her about law enforcement having a responsibility to the people they served? Paige was an agent, sure, but it was possible she was also the target of a criminal. Where were those who were supposed to fight for her? Her superior should have looked into the matter. Sam was certainly going to.
“Do you still have the postcards?” At Paige’s nod, Sam said, “We’ll compare the test results to the one found today.”
Paige went into her room and retrieved both cards. They were both in plastic evidence bags, along with the lab reports. She handed them to him. Sam studied the cards for a few minutes, then stuck them in the back pocket of his jeans.
Paige paced the length of the small living room in quick, tight circles. “I should have stayed in New York, baited Thames, and brought him down, but I’m not the same woman, the same agent I was before that day on the mountain. After that day, I was too afraid.”
Sam went cold thinking of her baiting Thames. He put his hands on her shoulders, halting her. “No, you should not have done that. You’re alive. You did everything right.”
“I didn’t do anything right. I didn’t do anything at all. I ran. As soon as I knew the first postcard had come from Thames, I transferred to Denver. The one-year anniversary of that day in the Adirondacks was a few weeks ago. I received a second postcard. This postcard also was an image of the Adirondacks. It was sent to my home in Denver. I don’t know how he managed to track me there, but he did, and I ran again.
“I came here, but he’s found me twice before. No matter where I go, he’ll find me. I think he has, Sam. I think he killed Janet Lambert. I know his MO is different this time. I know the victimology is different. Even the postcard image is different.
“I don’t know why he would choose Lambert, but I think he did. I’m the only one who would know the significance of the postcards, and I think that’s why Thames left it. He wants me to know that he knows where I am, that he can get to me at any time.” She made a choked sound. “I have no proof of any of this. It sounds crazy even to me.”
Her face lost what little color it had left. She stopped moving and curled into herself, making herself as small as she could. Sam pulled her against his chest. She clung to him, trembling in his arms. Thames was breaking her down, keeping her on the edge, never knowing if today was the day he would strike.
Sam didn’t know how she’d withstood the pressure, the torment, for this long. He knew seasoned agents who’d cracked under less. And she’d been on her own. But no longer. Every muscle in Sam’s body tensed with rage. Thames would have to go through Sam to get to Paige now.
He drew back just enough to look at her, then nudged up her chin. “You’re not alone in this.” His eyes bore into hers. “Not anymore.”
Paige squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them, she stared into his eyes. “You can’t know how much that means to me.”
But Sam did know. Her eyes were wide and vulnerable. Seeing her anguish, Sam’s heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vise. “We will end this with Thames.”
“I need to protect Ivy. I never believed Ivy was in danger from Thames. I was sure she posed no interest to him, but Sam, if I’m right about Janet Lambert and that he chose her to send a message to me, I can’t be sure he won’t go after Ivy.”
“We’ll put a man on her.”
“Once she’s at school, she’ll be safe,” Paige said. “For student safety, all the doors at the school, except for the front entrance, are kept locked so no one can get in. I don’t want her to know about this. I don’t want to frighten her when all we have so far is speculation.”
“We can do that. Our man can follow the vehicle that drives Ivy to the school, watch the school, then follow the vehicle back here again. How’s that?”
Paige gazed up at him. “Thank you.”
There was a wealth of emotion behind her words, and the vise around Sam’s heart squeezed harder. For far too long, she’d had no one but herself to count on. Again, he thought, That’s over now. Sam palmed the back of her head. Gently, he sifted his fingers through the silky strands of her hair. He held her gaze and covered her mouth with his. Protectiveness and possessiveness that he’d never felt for any other woman surged through him, and he crushed her against him.
Paige reached up to where Sam held her face and curled her fingers around his wrist, kissing him with the same intensity.
Sounds came from Ivy’s room. Paige drew back and gave him a soft smile.
Sam stared down into those gorgeous eyes and couldn’t resist brushing his thumb along her full lower lip, now made fuller by his kiss. “I’ll make the call. One of our people will begin tailing Ivy right away. I’m going to go home and grab a shower, then I’ll be back. Janet Lambert’s autopsy is in a couple of hours in Columbia. We need to be there.” He touched her cheek softly. “Be back soon.”
When Paige came out of her bedroom, showered but still in her white bathrobe, the apartment intercom buzzed. She glanced at her watch. That would be Sam. When he confirmed it was him, she pressed a button to unlock the building door.
Sam reached her floor quickly. As soon as he stepped off the elevator, Paige met him. “Ivy?” Paige asked anxiously. Ivy hadn’t left for school, and Paige wanted to be sure an agent would be watching her when she did.
“It’s taken care of.”
Paige closed her eyes, overcome for a moment. Sam seemed to notice. He brushed his lips over her hair and just held her.
Paige opened her eyes, then backed into her apartment. “I’m running late. Give me a few minutes to dress. I haven’t made coffee, but there’s some in the cupboard to the left of the sink if you’d like a cup, and there’s breakfast stuff in the fridge.”
Sam snagged her hand as she whisked away from him. “I’ve already eaten. I can make something for you.”
Paige stopped moving and went into his arms again. The emotion that welled inside her was far out of proportion to his offer, but it surged and swelled. She was experiencing emotional overload this morning. His arms wrapped around her, and he tucked her head under his chin and held her against him. Paige wound her arms around his waist, holding him as securely.
He cradled her head in his large hands and kissed her as if she were the most precious thing in his life. She’d never felt precious to anyone. Not even to her parents. They hadn’t really known what to make of her as she’d made choice after choice that defied their own desires for her. When she’d walked away, out of their lives, they hadn’t stopped her.
Sam must have sensed the dark turn her thoughts had taken. He cupped her chin and peered down at her. “Whatever you’re thinking, I can see it isn’t good.”
Now wasn’t the time for her revelation. “I’m wondering if you can cook.”
Sam raised his brows. “I can make toast.”
Feeling ridiculously close to tears, Paige said, “Toast would be great.”
Paige left her bedroom for the second time that morning. This time, she was fully dressed and smelled coffee brewing. A toasted English muffin sat on a plate with a container of low-fat cream cheese beside it. Sam was speaking on his cell phone. His gaze flicked to her and held.
“I’d appreciate if you could send me that information,” Sam said. “Thank you.”
She took a step closer to him. “What is it?”
“I’ve been thinking about what you said about Thames tracking you, if that is indeed what is happening. We need to find out how he’s doing that. You mentioned that you think Thames has someone keeping tabs on you. Let’s go with that.
“I put in a call to the warden at the penitentiary to have the records of Thames’s visitors, phone calls received and made, and any correspondence sent to us. Thames doesn’t have any family or close colleagues at the college where he worked. He was a loner. In prison, he wouldn’t have had access to any resources he could use to track you. He would need someone outside to do that for him. That person could be his one loose end. We need to find him.”
Paige felt hope for the first time. Not only did Sam believe her, but getting the records might actually generate a lead.
Sam spread cream cheese on the muffin. “We’ll leave for the autopsy as soon as you’ve eaten.”
“I’ll take it to go.”
Sam studied her. “Have you observed an autopsy before?”
“I was present for the three performed on Thames’s victims. I’ll be fine in there.” Paige glanced at the clock on the microwave. “I’ll let Ivy know that I’m leaving.”
One hour later, Sam led Paige to an office across from the morgue, which was located in the basement of the building that housed the Columbia Bureau Offices. A woman seated at the polished desk glanced up.
“Been a while, Sam,” she said.
“Lindy, how’ve you been?”
The woman had a round, ruddy-cheeked face that contrasted her dyed emerald-green hair. She peeled her lips back from her teeth and squeezed her eyes in a comical expression. “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you. Isn’t that what you feds say, or maybe that’s the spies?”
Sam smiled and turned to Paige. “Lindy, this is Agent Paige Carson from our office. Paige, Dr. Melinda Walden.”
Walden came around her desk. “Paige, good to meet you.”
“Likewise.” Paige returned Walden’s robust handshake.
Walden led the way across the hall and through the double doors into the morgue. The autopsy theater was brightly lit and cool, illuminating every corner of the polished surfaces and tiled floor. Like the other morgues Paige had been in, this one smelled of disinfectant and harsh cleaning products. A thin man garbed in a lab coat and wearing surgical gloves stood over the body.
Walden pulled her hair back from her face and secured it with a rubber band at her nape. She made her way to the sinks and began to wash her hands. “Sam, you remember Tom, my assistant.” Without waiting for the men to respond, she went on, “Sam, we’ve already taken her photos and X-rays.” Walden dried her hands, then donned gloves and a lab coat. “Okay, lady and gents, let’s get started.”
The door thudded open, followed by the click of quick footsteps. The sounds diverted everyone’s attention to the man in the three-piece suit and polished shoes who rushed into the room.
Walden gave the newcomer a steely-eyed look. “Mr. Stone, I wasn’t sure you were going to make it.”
“Sorry I’m late.” Stone went to Sam and extended his hand. “Walter Stone, I’m on Senator Glaxton’s personal staff. You must be Agent McKade.”
“Mr. Stone. Senator Glaxton told us he would be sending a representative to witness the autopsy.” Sam shook the man’s hand.
Quick introductions were made, then Walden raised one thick eyebrow. “Mr. Stone, you aren’t going to puke all over my nice clean floor, are you?”
Stone shook his head. “No, Doctor.”
But Paige could see he’d gone a little paler than he’d been when he’d first entered the room.
Walden nodded once briskly. “Once again, then, let’s get this show on the road.”
She activated the Dictaphone with her foot. She recited the date, time of day, and the victim’s name, and identified those in attendance.
Tom inserted a film in the X-ray viewer on the wall and flicked on the light switch. Walden studied the film without blinking and began recording her findings, pausing only to ask Tom to change X-rays.
She cataloged the condition of the body, meticulously charting tissue samples, making sure to observe the vital chain of custody. Paige was reminded that the same carefulness had been missing in the Thames investigation.
After some time passed, Sam asked, “Cause of death, Lindy?”
Walden stopped the Dictaphone and went to the X-ray viewer. She touched the screen with her gloved hand. “See here? These breaks show injury to the spinal cord occurred at the C3 to C5 vertebrae. Cervical breaks above the fifth vertebra cut off air. This woman died of asphyxiation resulting from a broken neck.”
Sam asked, “Time of death?”
“I’d say between seven and ten o’clock in the evening. I looked at this gal before we cleaned her. She looked like she was ready for a night on the town. Your killer didn’t so much as smear her lipstick.”
Walden went to the tray containing the instruments she’d been using—probes, slides, measuring tools—and selected one. She gently lifted Lambert’s hand and scraped beneath one polished fingernail. Walden dragged the tip of the instrument across a slide, then presented the slide for Sam’s inspection.
“Nothing under the nails.” Walden said. She clucked her tongue. “Can’t say I’m surprised, given the condition of the body.” She gave Sam a level look. “I don’t understand this killer. How the hell are you supposed to catch him if you can’t understand him?”
After the autopsy, Sam pulled into a restaurant outside Columbia. It was time for lunch, but once inside, Paige’s stomach balked at anything heavy. They settled into one of the deep hunter-green booths, and despite the hot day, Paige ordered plain tomato soup. Sam didn’t comment on her choice and ordered his own meal.
While they waited for the food to arrive, Paige said, “Bob at the crime scene called it down to the time of death. It appears Lambert’s killer came up behind her, catching her unaware, then snapped her neck.”
“He would need to have a certain amount of strength to do that,” Sam said, “and he’d have to be able to keep her subdued while he did it. He could have hidden in the trees, lying in wait. But for her specifically, or for anyone? Was she a random pick? Even if Thames did kill her to make some kind of statement to you, of all of the women in Kirk, why her? We keep coming back to that.”
Paige licked her now dry lips. “He had to have held her close to his body, but forensics didn’t find so much as a stray hair or fiber. No trace evidence on the body at all. No skin, hair, or fibers under her nails, though if he surprised her and got the job done quickly, she likely didn’t know what was happening.”
Sam gave her a look. “He could be the luckiest son of a bitch we’ve ever run across, or else—”
Paige voiced her fear. “He’s done this before.”
Sam nodded. “Yeah. We’ll look for similar crimes where victims’ necks were broken. We’ll cover all angles until we either confirm or eliminate Thames.”
Thames had left no trace evidence on his confirmed victims, either. In her lap, Paige clasped her hands tightly together.
“Harry called,” Sam added. “Our check on Holt came back clean.” Sam drummed his knuckles on the tabletop. “We’re missing something.” He paused. “Thames or some other unsub didn’t hide the body.”
“Thames never killed openly like this,” Paige said.
“I don’t buy that the unsub thought he didn’t have time to hide the body. That he just dropped her and made his getaway. The scene looked too staged. The actions seem too calculated. Lambert’s killer must have taken into consideration that he might be seen.” Sam shook his head. “He made no attempt to muddy the waters by taking her cash or jewelry, to make this look like a mugging. He didn’t attempt to make her death look like anything more than it was: a murder. And he left her where she would be found quickly. I’d say he wanted us to find the body.”
They’d had this theory since they’d viewed the crime scene. The waitress arrived with their meals. Sam eyed the food on his plate, but Paige didn’t think he really saw it. His thoughts were elsewhere.
After a moment, he said quietly, “Once we find out why he wanted the body found, we’ll have him.”
They finished their meal in silence, lost in thought. On the drive back, Paige called Ivy, who was at lunch in the school cafeteria. Riley, whom Sam had assigned to her, would keep watch until Paige got home. Rather than returning to the office where the activists continued to protest, Sam drove them to his place.
Paige preceded him into the living room. The temperature inside the house should have been comfortably cool, but Paige was cold on the inside and shivered.
Sam’s brows lowered, and he raised the temperature inside the house. His tone soft, he said, “I want you to tell me again about Thames.”
Another chill went through her as she went over it all again. After she’d completed the retelling, she closed her eyes, willing back the horror that was now all too close to the surface. She felt Sam’s hand on her face and opened her eyes.
Sam had listened intently, his hard body growing more rigid with each word she spoke. Fury sparked in his eyes. She wasn’t used to anyone feeling anger on her behalf. She didn’t know how to handle it.
With the pad of his thumb, he gently caressed her cheek. “I’m sorry I asked you to relive that. If it hadn’t been necessary, I wouldn’t have. I would do anything to spare you more hurt.”
She didn’t think anyone could possibly know what it did to her to go over it all again, but the deep emotion in Sam’s voice, the fury on her behalf, and his acceptance that she was telling the truth had tears burning her throat.
He saw her reaction and brought her close. “I’m sorry.”
Her instinct was to back away. She’d shown Sam more of herself than she had anyone else. Showing so much of herself left her feeling vulnerable.
But when she tried to retreat from him, Sam held on. He went on holding her. The last of her defenses crumbled. Panic made her blurt her next words. “I can’t be this way with you.”
Sam looked down at her, his eyes burning into hers. “Don’t be any way, just be Paige.”
No one, not even her family, had ever wanted the real Paige. She pressed her face to his chest and held tight to his words, held tight to him.
“Just be Paige,” he murmured against her ear.
He slid his lips from her ear, kissed her hair, her eyes, her cheeks. Then his mouth moved over hers in a tender caress, a soft glancing of his lips over hers. It was an expression of caring unlike any Paige had ever known before. She made a soft mewling sound. It was a sound of emotional need drawn from her very depths.
His lips brushed hers again gently, and this time she kissed him back. She couldn’t hold herself from him any longer.
Their mouths fused in a kiss that was hot, wet, hungry. Sam’s arms banded around her. She could feel him straining for her. She surged toward him, and her breasts pressed against his chest.
“Paige, beautiful Paige,” Sam murmured. “I want you. God, I want you.”
She could feel the proof of his raging desire pressing against her belly. Her own body was pulsing for him, a need that stole her breath. Sam was her boss. She didn’t need this complication. But she wanted him. Wanted to reach out and take what he could give her. See what they could give each other, even for a little while. They were about to step over a line, one Paige would never have believed she would cross. But the line blurred when it came to Sam. “I want you, too.”
Her breathless admission snapped whatever restraint Sam had been exercising. He took her lips and now her tongue as well, devouring her mouth in a heated, carnal kiss. He slid his hands down her spine and cupped her bottom, lifting her. She wrapped her legs around him. The dress she wore beneath a matching jacket hiked up her thighs as Sam walked them up the stairs to the loft. Gently, he deposited her on his bed.
He came down with her but braced himself over her, bearing the weight of his big body on one arm. Paige couldn’t wait to see him unclothed. She tugged at his suit jacket and tie. Sam threw the jacket off, yanked off the tie, then threw the clothes on the floor. Paige’s hands went to his white shirt. He began undoing buttons, then, losing patience, pulled the shirt off over his head. All the beautifully sculpted muscles his clothing had hinted at flexed and rippled. He was hard everywhere. His skin pulled taut over his hard broad shoulders, wide chest, and bulging biceps.
She reached between them and unzipped him, freeing him. He was wonderfully, magnificently aroused. She couldn’t keep from touching him. She took him in her hands and stroked him. Sam bucked in her grasp, and he groaned long and low.
“My turn,” Sam said, his voice low and thick.
Paige reluctantly released him. He unzipped her cream-colored dress and snagged the hem. He drew it up over her head, then tossed it, baring her lacy bra and her barely there panties. Sam’s eyes blazed. He wound his arm around her back and lifted her, undoing the back bra clasp. Then he slid her panties down and off.
The way this was going, they wouldn’t last long. He would soon be inside of her. In anticipation, Paige felt another jolt of arousal.
But as far gone as Sam obviously was, he didn’t rush to the finish as she’d expected. Instead, he laid her back on the bed gently. They locked eyes and he lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her so softly. Again, she felt undone by such tenderness, powerless against it. Overcome, she wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him to her.
After a moment, Sam took her arms from around him. Linking their fingers, he eased her arms to the mattress.
He started at the top of her and worked his way down, kissing, licking, sucking. Her nipples had swollen before he got to them, and when he did, they beaded tight.
He continued to move down her body. He parted her gently, then licked her. Paige gasped. Her belly tightened. He moved his tongue over her again. She curled her fingers in his hair.
He went on, unhurried, gentle, and patient. She didn’t know how he managed it. She could feel his every muscle tense. Could feel the heat coming off him. Paige moaned and moved beneath him, unable to keep still. She couldn’t take much more.
“Sam.” His name came out as a plea.
His tongue swept along her entrance, then swirled over her again, and this time as he continued to use that skillful tongue, he slid a finger inside her. Paige came off the mattress.
“Sam . . .”
He left her only long enough to get a condom from his nightstand and put it on. He settled over her, propping himself up with a hand on either side of her shoulders. He lowered his mouth to hers. She rose up to meet him.
He probed her entrance gently and began to push into her. Paige’s eyes widened at the feel of him entering her, then closed at the mind-blowing sensation of him stretching her to her limits.
Hot, hard, pulsing, he began to move inside her. Paige dug her fingers into his back.
“Tell me if I’m hurting you,” Sam said. “You are so tight.”
He blew out a harsh breath. His teeth were set. He was clearly holding himself back.
“You’re not hurting me. It’s been a while for me.” She pushed the reason for that out of her mind and focused on Sam. Only Sam.
His gaze sharpened. She didn’t want him seeing into her. She didn’t want Thames to have a place in this moment, and arched up, taking Sam deeper. She wanted to drive all ability to think from him and from herself.
His erection kicked inside her, then he bit back on his teeth so hard she heard it. He began to move fast now. Fast and hard. His eyes darkened and glinted. He surged into her. Paige’s orgasm hit her like an explosion. Light filled her vision. She shattered.
Sam’s body shook, then he found his own release as well. He went on pulsing inside her, thrusting slowly now but just as deeply, and as he moved over her still sensitive nerves, he brought on aftershocks that had Paige moaning in pleasure again.
Sam groaned once more, then went still inside her. His mouth moved to hers, and he kissed her softly and with great care.
“You are off-the-charts beautiful,” he said.
She smiled against his lips. “Right back at you.”
Sam laughed. “Give me a second to get rid of the condom.”
Paige watched him leave the bed. She had spoken the truth when she’d said he was beautiful. The way he moved, the way he was put together, all rigid muscles that had trembled and bulged with his desire for her, and yet he still touched her with such infinite care.
As he went into the adjoining bathroom, she saw he had a tattoo on the back of his shoulder. It was a couple of lines bisected by a couple more. The tattoo was crudely rendered. It didn’t look like it had been done by a professional. Maybe something Sam and a buddy or two had inked on each other as teens. When he returned and climbed into bed with her, he slid his arm around her and brought her close. She turned on her side in his arms, then reached up and touched the tattooed shoulder.
Resting her chin on his chest, she smiled up at him. “A tat? How bad boy of the head of a Bureau office.”
She expected Sam to laugh. He didn’t. He said nothing for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah.”
She couldn’t resist teasing him a little. “So what’s the story behind it?”
Sam’s gaze shuttered. “Nothing worth telling.”
Whatever the story was, it was painful to Sam, so Paige let it go. The thought of anything causing Sam pain made her want to stop that hurt, even though she couldn’t ease her own wounds.
Before the dark thought could take hold, Sam turned quickly. He grasped her beneath her arms and lifted her, placing her on his chest. He kissed her as if he hadn’t been deep inside her just moments ago, then nuzzled her neck. Lying on top of him, she felt him grow hard again.
“I want you again.” Sam sifted his fingers through her hair. “Do I have a chance?”
His light kisses and roaming hands made her move against him. She brushed his erection. He groaned.
Paige leaned in and kissed him. “Every chance.”
Afterward, Paige turned in Sam’s arms. Sam brushed his thumb down her cheek. “Neither one of us got any sleep last night. Get some sleep.”
“What time is it?” Before Sam could respond, Paige rose onto an elbow and glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “Ivy’s still in school. Some sleep would be nice.” Paige paused, then said softly, “Do you mind if we sleep with the television on?”
It seemed important to her. “What would you like to watch?”
“It doesn’t matter. I just like hearing it.”
Sam switched on the TV. Not long after, Paige fell asleep. Her hair was loose, falling around her shoulders in thick, glorious waves. Her body was as beautiful to look at as it was to touch. He held her tight against him, feeling her every breath. His protective instincts roared to awareness. He would protect those breaths with his life.
Justice, yeah, he believed in justice. He would take down Thames because it was the right thing to do. But this wasn’t only about doing what was right. This wasn’t about the job. Sam didn’t have his usual cool resolve. He wasn’t able to distance himself. Taking down Thames was personal. He’d do it for Paige. Because it was Paige. He had feelings for her, feelings that were growing deeper.
He hadn’t expected that, hadn’t expected to care for her and so quickly at that. He hadn’t expected to take a woman who worked for him to bed. Firsts for him. It wasn’t unheard of for agents to become involved and for people to develop feelings for each other in a short period of time, but it was unheard of for him. There was something about Paige that had him acting outside his norm.
Shadows darkened the skin beneath her eyes, looking like bruises. Sam brushed his thumb tenderly across her face. How long had it been since she’d had a full night’s sleep? But even in sleep she wasn’t at rest or at peace. A frown marred her brow. Thames dogged her in her sleep as well.
Sam eased away from her, careful not to wake her. He sat on the bed. The air conditioner kicked on, and cool air blew into the room. He covered Paige lightly with the sheet, then put on jeans. He grabbed a shirt from a drawer. She’d asked him about the tat. His hand bunched around the shirt. Of course she saw it when he took his shirt off. He rolled his shoulder as if he could feel the weight of the ink. No, he wasn’t going back there. Dropping the shirt, he left the bedroom.
Downstairs, he passed his workout room and entered his home office. Sam went to his laptop and logged on to the Bureau’s databases. Todd Thames. Sam had been studying the man. He was going to find out all he could about that bastard.
Sam clicked on a photo of Thames being led into the Manhattan courtroom. Thames was of average height and soft around the middle. Despite his tailored suit and pants with knife-edge pleats, Thames looked rumpled. His white-blond hair defied his stylish haircut and stood up in places.
The date indicated the photo had been taken at the time of his murder trial, when Thames had faced charges that could have ended with a needle in his arm, compliments of the state of New York. And in fact, he had been convicted and had received the death penalty. But in the picture, Thames was smiling, a small, smug lift to his lips as if he knew something that no one else did. Sam’s hand fisted. We’ll see about that, you son of a bitch.
Sam scanned Thames’s profile. His DOB put him at thirty-eight. His parents, Joseph and Sandra Thames, were both deceased. Thames had no siblings. He’d earned a PhD from Harvard, graduating summa cum laude, then worked as a professor of history, with a focus on medieval studies, at a college in upstate New York until his arrest.
There wouldn’t be anything about postcards being found at the crime scenes. From what Paige had said, that was unique to her. Was the postcard found at the Lambert murder left by Thames as some kind of message for Paige, or had it blown there on a breeze? Sam didn’t know, but the coincidence was impossible for him to dismiss.
The three murdered women had all been Thames’s students in recent years. Each had seemingly vanished. The first body found belonged to a woman who had disappeared following a date with a classmate. The second body found had been a woman who’d disappeared after a late shift at a diner where she worked. The third woman had gone missing from her car at the start of a vacation over a long weekend.
Sam pressed another few keys. Images of the three women Thames had been convicted of murdering filled Sam’s screen. Sam had seen a lot in his years with the Bureau but none worse than what he was seeing now. The women’s faces were untouched, but their bodies bore marks similar to those of medieval torture victims. Thames had raped them. He’d brutalized the women, and when he’d tired of that, he’d cut them up, taking his time slicing through skin down to the bone, then removing their breasts and genitalia.
And Thames might be targeting Paige. Sam had never wanted to take anyone down more than he wanted to take down Thames.
“Sam?” Paige called out.
Sam looked away from the screen. He’d hoped Paige would sleep longer. “In my office,” he called back. “Down the hall. Last door on the right.”
He turned as she entered the room. She was wearing his shirt, which fell to her knees. She’d rolled back the sleeves several times. Seeing her in his shirt warmed him inside.
He stretched out his arm, and when she came to him, he took her hand and eased her onto his lap. He cradled her nape and brought her face to his in a long, slow kiss. She returned it, then her gaze lit on his computer, where the crime scene photos shown at Thames’s murder trial were prominently displayed. She shifted on Sam’s lap. She put her arms around herself, but she didn’t look away from the photos. Even with her fear that Thames was targeting her, she didn’t look away. She thought of herself as a coward, but she was one of the bravest people Sam knew. And while he admired and respected her for that, it terrified him. Again, he thought of what she’d told him about considering baiting Thames. Sam broke into a sweat.
With her eyes still on the screen, Paige said, “You won’t find anything new there. I’ve been searching for bodies fitting Thames’s MO. There aren’t any.”
“How long have you been searching?”
“Since I was assigned to the investigation. Thames may have killed more than the three women we found. If there are others, they deserve to be found.” She exhaled a shaky breath. “And now that Thames’s conviction has been overturned, finding other victims to make a case against him that would stick this time is my only way to be free of him.”
Sam slid his fingers into her hair, tilting her face to his. “You will have your life back. I promise you.” His words were not idle. It was a vow he was making. He repeated what he’d said to her earlier, his voice throbbing with the force of his conviction. “You’re not alone in this anymore.”
Paige pressed against him. Sam palmed the back of her head and brought her lips to his in a kiss as fierce as his vow. Paige made a soft sound in her throat, then dug her fingers into his hard biceps, kissing him back just as fiercely.
Sam wanted to go on kissing her, but he needed to make her safe. He glanced his lips off hers, then drew back slightly. “Somewhere that son of a bitch has made a mistake. We’re going to find it.”