CHAPTER SIXTEEN
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“Did you forget to mention something important to me?”
Coen sighed in resignation at Calvert’s question. Sawyer and Keane had already departed, leaving wet bootprints on Brettany’s hardwood floor. He would help clean up later after everyone else had left for the evening. He probably should have explained in more detail that his relationship with her was a bit more complicated, but it technically didn’t change anything.
“It’s nothing that will interfere with the investigation.”
“Nothing that will…” Calvert’s voice faded in disbelief as he rubbed the scar on his jawline. He purposefully took a step closer so that the others in the living room didn’t overhear their conversation. “You’re involved with the woman you were assigned to protect, Flynn. I’d say that constitutes as a breach of professionalism, at the very least. Did you see how her father was looking at you?”
Coen clenched his teeth from reminding Calvert that the other members on the team had recently done the same thing in the course of this fucked-up investigation. He wasn’t one to compare himself to others, so he stated his case with every intention of dropping this topic because it had no bearing on his future.
“Brettany’s surveillance had already been completed and was scheduled to be handed off before we became involved.” Coen removed his winter jacket and hung it up on the coatrack. A quick glance in the living room told him that her parents weren’t leaving anytime soon until they had more answers, including those dealing with the two of them. That was a good thing, because his involvement would require a little more distance than what he’d already exhibited. “We became…briefly intimate on the last day of my time here. It won’t affect my ability to do my job.”
“Bullshit,” Calvert muttered. “It already has. What the fuck is wrong with my team?”
With that small dig, the man took his leave. Coen turned to find Brettany, her parents, and her two friends staring at him with worry, concern, and more than a casual interest—all for seemingly different reasons. He leaned down and grabbed the towel she always kept by the register. He wiped the bottom of his boots to clear away any wetness that remained. He wouldn’t remove them for the sake of convenience should he need to go outside on short notice. He ignored the appreciation written across her features when he finally stood. He’d only done so in order not to cause her any more stress. That’s all it was.
“I’m confused,” Louise blurted out, turning to Coen for some clarification. “So Shepherd Moss didn’t kill Heidi or Martin?”
“I’m not understanding either, Coen.” Brettany rubbed her hands over her face in exhaustion, and he truly wished he could take away the fear she must be experiencing at the belief she was next on Moss’ hit list. He walked over to the window and drew the heavy drapes over the sheer curtains. There was no need to invite prying eyes inside, only to give a perp a clear visual of his intended target. “It seems rather simple to me. Shepherd Moss mistook Heidi for me, and then killed Martin because…he took the credit?”
Brettany threw up her hands in defeat.
“I don’t know why. But Moss or his guy left his signature or whatever-you-call-it just so you would know it was him. Right?”
Coen didn’t reply right away, taking time to choose his words carefully to explain the different pieces of the investigation and how they fit together. Brody had spoken to the medical examiner, who in turn had communicated with the Bureau’s forensic team. Everyone was in agreement that Moss did not personally commit either Heidi or Martin’s murder. Could he have gotten someone else to do his bidding? Absolutely. He’d done so in the past, but he would have reached out to the team somehow to ensure that credit was given to the master and not the pupil. That had not happened. Something was off about this entire part of the investigation.
“We can’t confirm anything, at least not yet,” Coen stated as he purposefully glanced at his watch. It was getting late and everyone was still quite emotional from consuming their entire evening with doubt mixed with fear. It was never a good idea to speculate about something of this significance with such little sleep. “I suggest everyone get some rest. We’ll have more information come morning, and then we’ll see what transpires after Calvert and the others have had time to investigate the various leads. In the meantime, it’s best for us to settle in for the duration and be as patient as we can.”
Chad and Louise blocked Brettany’s advance toward the door, all but pelting her with questions that she could now answer. They all vowed not to tell anyone a word of what she told them. Calvert had already warned all of them once of the importance of keeping these details from the press. Everyone had agreed, though Louise didn’t seem the type of woman to keep a good story like this to herself. Then again, she had kept Heidi’s secret under wraps for an entire week that could have easily prevented some of the eventual fallout.
“My daughter seems quite fond of you, Mr. Flynn. Not that either of you have been too forthcoming with the details of your involvement with one another.” Jim Lambert wasn’t a man to beat around the bush. Under normal circumstances, Coen would have appreciated such a stance. Now? It put him in a very awkward situation. “I don’t have to tell you that she’s our only daughter, do I?”
“No, sir. You don’t,” Coen agreed somewhat reluctantly, wishing he’d had a chance to shave. Hell, he was still wearing the clothes he’d changed into before leaving Colorado yesterday afternoon. He shouldn’t be worried about appearances and first impressions, but that didn’t stop him from straightening his shoulders and showing respect. “Brettany’s safety is my first priority, and I would lay down my life to protect hers.”
Coen was sincere in his declaration. It was his job, just as it had been his duty to protect the freedom of this country. He took his promises and obligations seriously, regardless of who his charge was or the emotions involved.
“That’s good to know.” Jim Lambert relaxed somewhat, though his heavy concern was still evident. “Should we…should we think about taking her somewhere else? Would it be safer for her to be away from here where she can’t be found? I have a sister who lives in California. I’m sure we can manage to be on a plane in a couple of hours.”
“Your daughter is safer here where we are controlling the situation, Mr. Lambert. You all know everyone in town. You would certainly recognize someone who was out of place. We want to minimize her exposure to situations beyond our control or with individuals she isn’t familiar with.”
Coen fully believed what he’d shared with Mr. Lambert. Not having Brettany within his visual under a contained environment would only encourage Moss to capitalize on SSI’s less than vigilant stance. He flexed his jaw in irritation. The team had all but asked for this, all of them in agreement that they were tired of reacting to Moss’ initiative, waiting for him to make a mistake.
Well, here it was plain as day. Brettany had been the intended victim, and yet Moss’ surrogate had killed the wrong woman. Unless, of course, Moss had nothing to do with this and the suspect was hoping to shift the blame to Moss as some form of a patsy. Doing so could thereby inadvertently draw the serial killer’s ire. That wasn’t something the suspect would enjoy, of that Coen was certain.
Chad and Louise were walking toward the door, though they were still asking questions and offering to stay if Brettany needed them. She turned their proposal down, saying that Coen could handle any eventuality now that he’d arrived. Her curls had escaped her hair tie, her eyes were somewhat bloodshot, and she’d lost the flush of color she’d had in her cheeks yesterday morning. He wanted a moment alone with her to reassure her that nothing else bad would happen to her on his watch, but he couldn’t make that guarantee.
“Please take the spare bedroom and get some rest, Mr. and Mrs. Lambert,” Coen suggested, figuring they could all use some sleep. He wasn’t including himself in that recommendation. “I’ll wake you should I learn anything of importance.”
Coen removed his phone and shot off a text to Calvert that the additional deputies had arrived after reading Sawyer’s message from a few minutes ago. The agent across the street, Simone Gilpin, was still in position and had been updating Brody throughout their incoming flight. No new developments were deemed noteworthy, and Simone was only a phone call and one hundred feet away should she be needed as backup with the additional sheriff’s deputies in support.
“…some rest. I need to speak with Coen for a minute, but then I’ll be up,” Brettany said softly, reassuring her parents that she was okay. She gave them both a hug and then watched as they made their way upstairs. “Good night.”
It wasn’t long before Coen and Brettany were both alone in the living room. It didn’t surprise him when her eyes filled with tears as she started to walk his way. His chest tightened in the knowledge that she was scared to death, and all he could do was take her into his arms. He simply held her and let her take what comfort and strength she could in her attempt at maintaining her composure.
“You did real good, sugar.” Coen pressed his lips against her forehead before cradling her face in his hands. He stared into her green eyes so she didn’t misunderstand what he had to say. “Your parents and friends will react how you do, so your poised disposition was exactly what you needed to portray. Keep it up, and I promise your life will return to normal before you know it.”
“All I kept thinking after Sheriff Whitney told me what happened at the police department was that Martin tried to tell me he didn’t have anything to do with Heidi’s murder. It has to be the reason he was driving here the other night, but it doesn’t explain why he crashed into the tree.” Brett tilted her head back and closed her eyes, causing her curls to fall back as well. He didn’t like that she was so pale, or that her soft skin was so cool to the touch. “It wasn’t like he knew you were here with me until after he wrecked his uncle’s car into my tree. So why run? Why not come up and knock on my door?”
“I don’t know,” Coen answered honestly, wishing he had some answers for her. “What we do know is that Moss himself didn’t kill Eyles.”
“How would someone have access to the police department’s jail cells? I know the storm prevented the local police from taking Martin to the county jail, but how could Shepherd Moss have known that?” Brettany allowed Coen to lead her over to the couch. She really was running on fumes, and it wouldn’t be long before her mind and body shut down completely. “It’s not like he’s some kind of god.”
Coen and the rest of his team had questioned the man’s reach numerous times. Moss was highly intelligent, though. His IQ was off the charts, which made capturing him a second time around that much harder. He always seemed to be at least one step ahead of the FBI, the U.S. Marshals Service, and SSI.
“Close your eyes, sugar.” Coen winced when he unconsciously used the endearment. He hadn’t intended to come back here. Hell, he’d never planned on seeing her again. It was best to put a little distance between them, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away from her tonight…not when she was in such a fragile state. “We should all get some rest. I have a feeling we’re going to need it before this whole thing is over.”