Faces of Evil [2] Impulse (22 page)

“I think he’s growing more careless with every hour that passes and somehow his actions have caused the real Eric Spears to surface,” Dan proposed. “That’s what I think.”

She shook her head, disgusted. “He’s taunting me. He could have taken Alice or Lily as easily as he did Agent Miller. He wants me to sweat. He hasn’t made an attempt to get to me but I believe that’s the finale he’s building up to. He believes if he makes me desperate enough I’ll comply. Who else but Spears would have it in for me like that? If it’s not him, what’s the motive?”

“If he does come after you,” Dan warned, “it’ll be the last thing he does.”

She faked a smile. “That’s sweet of you, Burnett, and I do appreciate your concern. But if he makes a move against me, you won’t have to protect me. I’ll protect myself.”

“Let’s just hope we don’t have to find out who does what.”

She propped her elbows on the table and rested her head in her hands. “Honestly, I’m ready for him to make a direct move. The longer this drags out, the more likely someone will end up dead. Belinda Howard was lucky. Lori and Agent Miller may not be so fortunate. There just doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to his methods. No logic or pattern other than the fact that two of his three victims are law enforcement and all three are somehow, however vaguely, connected to me.”

The pain on her face told him just how deeply she meant those words. She would trade herself right now if Wells and Miller were released. That Gant wanted to capitalize on that infuriated him.

The search teams continued to come up empty-handed. Harper was personally following up on each location that was or had been used to house motorized vehicles of any kind or vehicle parts considering the trace evidence he’d found on Howard’s feet.

And still they had nothing.

The Bureau had nothing except the fact that the Eric Spears they had held as a person of interest in the Player investigation in Virginia last month had turned himself in to the local authorities in Richmond. Four hours later those same authorities had no choice but to release him.

Gant had put Spears under surveillance for his own protection. At least that was what he’d told Spears. If Dan had his guess, he’d also told the guy that the surveillance might be best until the suspicions related to Jess were cleared up. The idea burned but, in reality, he understood Gant had a protocol to follow. Once in a while a damned good cop went off the deep end and committed far worse atrocities than tacking up photos on a wall.

As long as the Bureau kept an eye on Spears, Dan didn’t care what they told him.

Jess shuffled her photos and reports back into the dog-eared folder she’d been wagging around for God knows how long. She’d made a lot of notes on her pad. Everyone else had moved into the twenty-first century with their note taking, using their smart phones or electronic tablets, but not Jess. She still carried her trusty pencil and paper in that big old bag of hers.

“What are you smiling about now?”

Dan figured she was far more annoyed with his intrusion than with the fact he was determined to find some bright spot in this mess. “You’ve made a lot of notes. Care to share?” He took a swig from his beer.

Visibly skeptical of his motive, she picked up her pad and reviewed the notes. “Like we talked about last night, there are only two ways that our unsub can bear such a striking resemblance to Spears.” Her brow puckered with frustration as she studied more of her notes. “One would be a blood relative. But we turned Spears’ background upside down. He has no living family. If he had a sibling, twin or otherwise, that sibling’s birth was never documented in connection with his family.”

He was fairly certain she wasn’t waiting for a response from him. More likely she was analyzing.

“But let’s reach. . . assume there was a sealed adoption or something, it’s possible a brother could look so similar. Like Lily and me. But why didn’t we find something?”

Babies were born even today who ended up being sold or given away with no legal documentation so that was certainly possible. “What about option two?” Dan queried as he propped against the table.

“Option two is the one I find more complicated and requiring a broader stretch of the imagination. Our copycat may be or have been an apprentice for the real Spears. Last month as we closed in on Spears, the anonymous source who baited me with the potential discovery of evidence is a perfect candidate. During his apprenticeship he may have altered his appearance with hair color, colored contacts and even plastic surgery to become like Spears. These steps may or may not have been at Spears’ bidding. Whatever the reason, anyone who would go that far would be a very unwell individual.”

“I think that’s what we’re dealing with.” Dan couldn’t reconcile what he knew about motive with what had taken place today. “This Spears copycat burst into a clinic full of people and kidnapped a federal agent at gunpoint. That kind of move wouldn’t be so difficult to label if it was about the usual – money or revenge – but, as far as we know, it isn’t about either of those. It’s about a fixation on you. Getting your attention or setting the stage for a bigger strike related to you.”

Jess chewed on her lower lip and considered his conclusion. “An individual who would go to such extreme measures would have to worship the real Spears. He wants to be him or to bask in his favor. Or maybe he wants his life. His reverence may have turned to envy and Spears may have shut him out, igniting this frenzy.”

“Where does that put you in the scenario?”

Her shoulders heaved then sagged. “I don’t know. Logically I would assume that I became a target of one or both after the events in Richmond. The real Spears, the one I interviewed in that investigation, may have made statements that prompted his apprentice to seek me out as a way to gain his mentor’s favor. Then again, if our unsub’s motive is envy, he may simply be doing this because he realized how intrigued Spears was with me and he wants to prove something.”

She seemed to consider the idea for a moment before sharing her next thought. “Whatever the motive, I’m not the only one feeling desperate. This guy is feeling the pressure, too. That could explain his haphazard work.”

The way she stated the facts as she saw them scared the hell out of him. “You make this sound so matter of fact.” He didn’t mean to allow anger to slip into his voice. He wasn’t angry with her, just the potential he heard in her voice for putting herself more at risk. “It isn’t, Jess. This is your life and the lives of at least two other people we’re talking about. Both of these men are clearly insane. They may see this as a game, but it’s not.”

She threw down her pencil. “If I can’t set my emotions aside for the part of this case that impacts me personally, how do you expect me to do so when looking at Lori’s situation or Miller’s? Don’t make this different just because it’s me. The facts and theories have to be explored with at least some level of objectivity. Jesus.” She snatched up her pencil and focused on her notes, a warning that she was through debating the issue.

“I need another beer.”

Leaving the unopened one he’d offered her on the table, he pushed away from the table. If he didn’t walk away he would only say too much. This time last night she wasn’t speaking to him. He didn’t want to go there again. They’d spent the better part of the past twenty years doing that.

When he closed the fridge door Jess was standing there staring at him, hands on hips and glasses pushed up into her hair. The image of her, barefoot and glaring at him, was so familiar it took his breath. All those years together. . . fighting like wildcats and making love as if there were no tomorrow.

“We need to talk about how you see me in the field.”

As much as he might assuredly need another cold one for this, he would be smart to keep a clear head. He set the beer on the counter. “Okay. Talk.”

Sitting down wouldn’t make it any easier.

“You asked me to take the position of deputy chief over a unit that will investigate major crimes, maybe even cases like this one, and yet you persist in treating me like a helpless civilian,” she charged. “Worse, like a helpless woman.”

Okay, maybe he did. “I’m trying, Jess,” he admitted. “It’s just a different role for me where you’re concerned.” He held up his hands when she would have lit into him again. “My brain knows that you are as capable as I am when it comes to the job. Maybe more capable. But here,” he flattened his palm on his chest, “I just haven’t been able to get that yet.”

The truth was out. So shoot him. He still had feelings for her, strong feelings. Anything that would hang on this long had to be real.

She looked stunned or horrified or maybe both.

“You wanted the truth, right? Or did you want me to tell you something that feels less awkward?” He couldn’t ignore this any longer and tiptoeing around the idea wasn’t working for him.

“They’re all watching us, Burnett. Every sergeant and lieutenant and damned deputy chief in Birmingham PD is watching and waiting to see if you gave me this job to keep me here for personal reasons.”

He couldn’t tell if she was worried, hurt or angry. But he was angry.

“I wanted you to stay.” He held up his hands in surrender. “I wanted it and still do more than I’ve wanted anything in a long time.
But
, I offered you the position because you’re more than qualified and we need you. End of story.” He held up his hands in surrender. “Wait, you probably can’t accept my word on that since you don’t trust me anymore.”

She crossed her arms over her chest signaling she was ready for battle. “You want to talk about trust? Here’s a perfect example. You want me to stay more than you’ve wanted anything since when exactly? Since you married Annette Denton? Or,” she shrugged “I can’t remember the names of your other two wives. Or maybe since the last time that reporter brought take-out to your door and you wanted her.”

“You expect me to feel guilty because I tried to move on with my life and failed three times or because I have needs? What does that have to do with trust?”

“No! I want you to feel guilty because you walked out on us twenty years ago and now you have the audacity to pretend you are so here for me.
That
was about trust and you broke mine.”

He looked away, tried to slow the emotions churning inside him before meeting her expectant gaze. “Are we never going to get past the past?”
Bring it down a decibel
. Shouting was not the adult thing to do and they were both adults now. “I thought we talked about this already. Last week, remember? How many times are we going to do this? We can’t just go from here?” Christ, she was like a dog with a bone.

“As soon as you drag yourself out of denial,” she charged, “we can move on. What do you say,
Dan
, are you up to the challenge?”

“What denial?” he snapped. “I told you why I came back home after college. We had different visions of how we wanted to spend our lives. I just didn’t realize it in the beginning. You wanted free of family entanglements. You wanted to live half a country away. I didn’t!”

She nodded. “Oh yeah. I almost forgot that part. You needed to be close to your parents. Bullshit!”

Take a breath
. He stared at his feet, anywhere but at her while he grappled for control yet again. “Look, this isn’t accomplishing anything.” Dan ran a hand over his face. “We should take a break.”

“Why? So you can find a distraction from the truth?”

Fury expanded in his chest. “I told you the truth.”

“Admit it, you have commitment issues. We were planning our wedding, what kind of house we’d buy for Christ’s sakes, and you bailed. You came running back home. Made your career and subsequently bailed out of three marriages! That’s a pattern, Dan! You cannot do the forever thing. You just can’t. And I’m not going to live in this whole storybook fantasy you’ve created about us. There is no us! There hasn’t been an us since you walked out and left me to build my future alone.”

Her words hit their mark. He couldn’t respond to that. . . he wasn’t sure which hurt the most, the idea that he had wounded her that badly or that she refused to forgive him.

She snatched off her glasses, tossed them on the counter and rubbed at her temples. “I’m in crisis right now, Burnett. I blew that case in Richmond. Four months before that my divorce papers came in the mail – for a marriage that was as wrong and screwed up as any one of yours. And now the ghost of that goddamned case has followed me here. I’m scared to death every decision I make is the wrong one.” She turned her hands up in frustration. “Lives are depending on me to be smart and strong and perceptive. And I don’t even know who
I
am anymore!”

He took her face in his hands. She tried to pull away but he held on. He needed her to look him in the eye.

“You’re right.” He had some trouble of his own holding her gaze then. “About all of it. I couldn’t do it. You were so strong and independent and ambitious and I was afraid.”

“That’s crazy.” Her lips trembled. “Afraid of what?”

His gut clenched, but he wasn’t stopping there.

“Afraid of you, Jess. Afraid you would always outshine me. That I would never be good enough or strong enough. I was just plain scared. I was twenty-two and stupid. So I came home and I grew up. I tried to pretend that we were just kids back then and had different visions. I worked hard at moving on. Yeah, okay, my marriages did end because I had commitment issues. I had commitment issues
to you
. My marriages died swift and certain deaths because no one could live up to my memories of you, Jess. No one.”

For a long time they just stood there. . . looking into each other’s eyes with the weight of twenty years slowly lifting – as least for him. He’d said it. The truth he hadn’t wanted to admit even to himself. She’d helped him understand and he desperately and selfishly wanted her to understand, too.

“Well,” her lips trembled into a smile, “that was certainly a mouthful.”

He nodded. Relief rushing through him. “I’m sorry, Jess. I made a mistake and I’ve regretted it ever since.”

By now they would have had that house they’d dreamed of. . . kids. . . and he screwed it all up.