Unspeakable (40 page)

“There!” he said, dragging Elaina behind him. Was she all right? He didn’t know. But she was on her feet, and that was good enough for him, at least right now. When she reached the boat, she practically threw herself aboard.

The boat had drifted into a sandbank. Troy waded around to the bow and shoved it into deeper water. Then he rushed to the stern, gave a hearty push, and hopped inside. He twisted the key, fired the engine to life, and glanced at Elaina.

“Hold on,” he ordered, and hit the throttle.

In the distance, he heard the faint hum of the fleeing skiff. No running lights this time. Troy flipped his on, illuminating the channel in front of them. He followed the curves and bends of the waterway, hoping he wasn’t steering them into a dead end.

The boat in the distance changed pitch. He’d reached the bay and turned on the speed. Troy glanced around, calculated the risks, and decided they had enough depth to really drop the hammer.

“Hold tight,” he told Elaina, and he hit it.

The wind whipped against her as they skipped across the water. She stood beside Troy, clutching the windshield. She saw the familiar lights of the refinery, but the boat was nowhere to be seen.

Troy seemed to have a course in mind. He stared
straight ahead, with laser-sharp focus, as the Supra hopped from wave to wave.

“We’re gaining.”

“How can you tell?” And just as she said it, she spotted the pale gray form ahead of them, about two o’clock. Etheridge had a head start, but Troy was closing the gap. Etheridge glanced back, again and again, then suddenly hunched over and reached for something. The skiff slowed.

“What’s he doing?”

“Trying to lose us.
Shit.
”

Elaina watched, confused. A jolt of terror shot through her as she realized what he was doing in a last-ditch effort to shake the tail.

“He’s throwing her overboard!”

Troy handed his pistol to Elaina.

“Take this,” he yelled over the roar of the engine. “And get ready to take the wheel.”

“What are you doing?” she yelled, but he didn’t answer, and she stuffed his pistol into her holster.

Troy bore down on the skiff, until they were almost on top of it. Etheridge glanced back, and Elaina could see the desperation on his face as he steered his boat and tried to wrestle Jamie’s naked, lifeless body overboard, all at the same time.

Troy grabbed Elaina’s arm.
“Now!”
he commanded, and yanked her up to the helm. Then he climbed onto the side of the Supra and took a flying leap.

The skiff almost capsized. It slowed abruptly and Elaina sailed ahead. She made a frantic U-turn, and
when she circled back, Troy and Etheridge were on the floor of the boat, locked in a struggle. She pulled the pistol, but both boats were bobbing violently. She had no confidence in her aim. Etheridge jerked Troy up by the shirtfront, and Elaina watched, appalled, as he landed a powerful punch to his jaw. Troy responded with a head butt, and a split second later, had Etheridge flipped onto his back. Troy pummeled his fist into the man’s face, again and again and again, as Elaina tried to get close enough for a decent shot, but with the rising, sinking swells, it was utterly impossible. Suddenly the boat rolled sideways. Both men crashed into the side and Jamie nearly rolled overboard. Etheridge scrambled to his knees and leapt on top of Troy.

A flash of metal. The knife! The blade plunged down, and she heard an agonized cry. Good God, he was going to stab Troy to death, right in front of her eyes.

Elaina braced her hand against the side of the boat. She lifted the gun. The blade rose up again, and somewhere deep inside herself, she found an island of calm. She aimed the pistol.

She took the shot.

CHAPTER 28
 

Lemme guess. Just a scratch, right?”

Troy opened his eyes to see Weaver standing beside him in the waiting room of the Brownsville FBI office. He nodded at Troy’s sloppily bandaged shoulder.

“You didn’t even feel a thing?”

“Hurts like a motherfucker.” Troy leaned forward on his elbows and scrubbed a hand over his face. “What time is it, anyway?”

“Five-fifteen.”

Troy scowled at the Plexiglas window, behind which Elaina had disappeared hours ago for a “debriefing.” But of course there was nothing brief about it, and Troy’s patience was long since gone.

“Just called the hospital,” Weaver said. “Jamie’s awake and lucid. She’s going to be fine. Joel Etheridge is still in surgery. He may not make it.”

“Cry me a river.”

“If he pulls through, we’ll have an agent waiting in his recovery room, ready to read him his rights.” Weaver crossed his arms over his chest. “You know he’s married to Brenda, the desk clerk at the inn?”

“I heard.”

“And did you hear about his house?”

Troy shook his head. Maynard hadn’t gotten that far when he’d called.

“Major law enforcement junkie,” Weaver said. “He has an arsenal of weapons, a virtual spy museum full of gadgets, all sorts of police uniforms and gear. He had everything packed in duffel bags and—get this—stashed in a concrete hurricane shelter that he’d built inside his garage, complete with MREs and self-contained plumbing. Looks like he missed out on Y2K, so now he’s ready for World War Three.”

“Sounds like a nutcase.”

“That’s not a term we like. Just helps him build an insanity defense. Anyway, we’ll know more after we interview him, but I’d guess he’s paranoid in a serious way and has delusions of grandeur.” Weaver’s face grew more serious. “He also has an interesting library. Several biographies of Robert Hanssen. Every book ever written by John McCord.”

Troy went still. He knew what was coming next.

“He has a picture of Elaina, too—something he clipped from the newspaper after Breck’s first press conference. She’s standing off to the side with you and Cinco. He blew up the shot and drew a red circle around Elaina’s head.”

Troy stared up at Weaver. He didn’t bother trying to put into words the mix of anger and fear and
relief
he was feeling right now.

Troy turned away and checked the clock. He looked up and down the hallway, but still no sign of her. When
he met Weaver’s gaze again, the man was smiling at him.

“What?”

“You
could
swing by the emergency room, you know. Even our toughest border cowboys get patched up every now and then.”

Troy sighed. “Fuck you.”

“I’m good, thanks. But it’s nice to know you’re in as pleasant a mood as Elaina was last time I saw her.” Weaver patted his arm. “And FYI, she’s almost done.”

The agent disappeared behind a thick gray door, and Troy stood up to stretch his legs.At the opposite end of the hall, another gray door opened and Elaina walked out.

He watched her move toward him. She looked worried and weather-beaten and beyond exhausted, and fury simmered inside him as he visualized Joel Etheridge trying to choke the life out of her.

She stopped in front of him and gazed up with those serious blue eyes. “You waited.”

He slung his good arm around her and pulled her close. “Let’s go home.”

Ric trudged up the stairs to Mia’s apartment and didn’t have a clue what the hell he was doing here. He looked like shit. He hadn’t slept in days. He’d been on his way home to do just that, when he found himself turning onto her street and pulling up to her building.

Now he stopped in front of her door and stared at it. He lifted his hand to knock, and it opened all by itself.

She stepped back, startled.

“Hi,” he said.

She gazed up at him, wide-eyed, car keys and coffee cup in hand. She had on jeans and one of those fitted T-shirts she wore beneath her lab coat.

“It’s six thirty-five,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

“I have no idea.”

Her eyebrows tipped up, and he felt the need to backpedal.

“Actually, I do.” He rested his hands on his hips and realized his own jeans and T-shirt had passed the dirty-laundry stage about thirty-six hours ago. “I’ve been out to Devil’s Gorge. We took a canine unit.”

Understanding dawned in her eyes.

Ric looked away, out over the dew-covered crepe myrtles surrounding her parking lot. It was going to be another scorcher today. Yesterday had been so brutal, the search dog had nearly collapsed from heat exhaustion.

“Anyway, I’m on my way home to clean up before I go see the families.”

“You found both of them?”

He nodded. “Each one was buried under a pile of rocks.”

“I can help you get positive IDs,” she said. “Quickly.”

“That’s one reason I’m here.”

She tilted her head to the side. “And the other?”

The other. He gazed down at her. And he remembered the first time he’d seen her up at that podium, lecturing a roomful of jaded homicide cops with that passion in her voice. And he knew the other reason—she reminded him why he did this job.

He nodded at her mug. “Skim milk, one Splenda?”

She smiled slightly. “Would you like a cup of coffee, Detective?”

“I would.”

She stepped back and ushered him inside. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

Westin Hotel

Alexandria, Virginia

Two days later

Elaina dropped her briefcase onto the floor and claimed a stool at the bar. She glanced around and decided she liked the place—for a number of reasons, starting with the fact that the bartender was a woman. She wore a black tuxedo jacket that didn’t fit her well at all, and Elaina had a flash of insight about women wearing clothes designed for men.

Elaina peeled off her navy suit jacket and hung it on the back of the chair as the bartender made her way over.

“What can I get you?”

Elaina scanned the row of bottles lining the back wall. Her attention got hung up on the one shaped like an agave plant.

“A Sprite, please,” she said.

“I’ll have a Dos Equis.”

Elaina turned around at the voice. Her heart swelled inside her chest and she had to force herself not to jump off the stool and throw her arms around him.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

Troy claimed the seat beside her and dropped something onto the floor. A black backpack. With a boarding pass sticking out of the side pocket.

“Heard a rumor you might be staying here.”

“You were eavesdropping on me and my dad.”

“Guilty.” His green eyes skimmed over her, taking in her disheveled hair and wrinkled blouse. “Long day?”

“Very.” She wanted to kiss him. She wanted him to kiss
her.
But instead, she just stared at him, soaking in the familiar sight of his jeans and cowboy boots, soaking in his sun-brown skin and muscular forearms. He looked completely out of place at this stuffy hotel filled with business executives and government bureaucrats.

Their drinks came, and he took a long swig. Elaina tipped her glass back and noticed the way his attention lingered on the bruises still circling her neck. Something sparked in his eyes.

He rested his beer on the bar. “How’d the interview go?”

“Good,” she said. Then she sighed. “Long. It lasted five hours. I think I met every member of the BAU.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Sounds fun.”

“It’s a fascinating group. I really hit it off with the agent in charge.”

Troy held her gaze for a long moment. “Did they offer you the job?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t take it.”

Her heart gave a kick as she watched him watching her with so much intensity. He was the only man who’d ever looked at her that way, and it made her warm everywhere.

She cleared her throat. “Why not?”

“Come back to Brownsville. With me. We need you way more than Quantico does.”

She stared at him. “‘We’ as in… my boss? Loomis? Chief Breck?”

“Yes.” He nodded resolutely. “Every one of them needs you, more than they realize. You scare the hell out of them.” He paused. “But mostly it’s me.”

“
You
need me.” She gazed up at him, unable to believe he was sitting here telling her this. “Why?”

He covered her hand with his, and she glanced down and saw that his knuckles were still bruised from the other night.

“You haven’t figured it out yet, Elaina?” He smiled slightly. “You’re a profiler.”

“Figured out what?”

“I love you.” He picked up her hand and kissed it.

I love you.
He’d really said it. And now he was sitting there, watching her, searching her face for some kind of response.

He reached over and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. His finger trailed down her neck, over her bruises, and then he took her hand again.

“I think I’ve loved you since the first night, when you threatened to slap me with a lawsuit.” He shook his head. “And then that next day, you told me you were off limits, and I was pretty much done for.”

Elaina felt a grin spreading across her face. “I didn’t take the job,” she said.

“Really?” he looked wary now.

“I need more field experience. And anyway, I’ve got some unfinished business down in Texas.”

She slid off the stool and reached up to comb her fingers into his hair, and she pulled his head down and kissed him, right there in the hotel bar.