Still Waters (12 page)

She couldn’t fall apart now.
Deep breath.
“We’ve been waiting almost an hour.” She looked back at the house. “Do you think they’ve found evidence to connect him to the cameras we found in my house?” She had stood outside the yellow tape at plenty of scenes where a crime had been committed. In her experience the longer the investigators were inside, the more likely the findings were significant.

“Chances are if they’d found nothing, we’d know it by now.”

Of course they had found evidence. She really was out of sorts here. How long had she been reporting the news? Going on seven years. Granted, she rarely landed the major crime stories like serial killer Eric Spears—that was Gina Coleman’s domain. Frankly, it didn’t matter how many times she had worked a crime scene like this; this was different. This was personal. She was on the other side of the event this time. The reporters following this case were talking about her, which was in part why her boss had insisted she take a few vacation days. She’d been thinking about calling to do exactly that. He’d beat her to it.

Sean abruptly straightened away from his car. Amber’s gaze followed his to the detective exiting the front door of Thrasher’s home. Her pulse fluttered.

Detective Cook was only a couple of years younger than Amber. She’d seen him at Gina and Barb’s engagement party. Cook had just popped the question to Dr. Sylvia Baron’s daughter. Amber remembered feeling vaguely jealous of the couple. They had looked so in love.

Her gaze drifted to Sean. She blinked and looked away. God help her.

Cook gave Sean one of those male nods of acknowledgment, then he turned to Amber. “Ma’am, Lieutenant Harper will be out shortly. He’ll brief you on what we found.”

“Thank you.” It was about time.

“We’ve got Ricky Vernon headed over here to take a look at the computers,” Cook said to Sean. “Harper doesn’t want to risk triggering any safety features that might shut down or wipe the systems.”

“Are you saying there’s more than one computer?” Amber’s stomach sank.

Cook shifted his attention back to her. She held her breath as he seemed to decide how much he could tell her. “Yes, ma’am, four desktop computers and one laptop. It looks like he was watching a fourth woman. The lieutenant has sent a couple of uniforms over to check on her.”

“Is she okay?”

Cook hesitated again. “We’re not seeing her on any of the cameras. We’ve made a couple of calls already, and she wasn’t at work today.”

“Thrasher may have taken her.” A chill bored into Amber’s bones. And he was out there somewhere. She turned all the way around, scanning the neighborhood. He could be anywhere.

Chapter Twelve

Magic City Beer & Burger, 8:00 p.m.

Amber needed to relax. She sat on her side of the booth, her back ramrod straight. Sean had hoped that coming to an out-of-the-way place—one he doubted she’d ever set foot inside—would help make that happen. No such luck. She jumped every time the bell over the door jingled with a new customer.

“You should stop worrying about who walks in and just eat.” He nodded to the house special on her plate. “You know the sauce is a closely guarded secret.”

“I’m sure it’s great.” She forced a smile into place. “I’m really not hungry.”

“The fries are the best in town.” For emphasis he stuffed one into his mouth. Bad move. Rather than follow his example, she watched him chew. Out in LA he’d dated plenty of celebrity types. Every single one had been unique, but the one thing they all had in common was the inability to hide certain basic feelings. The flare of desire he spotted in Amber’s green eyes startled him almost as much as he felt certain it did her. They’d had a couple of moments the past few days, but this was the first time she’d shown true hunger, and he was relatively certain it wasn’t about the food.

“Eat,” he encouraged. “You’ll thank me later. Besides, you don’t want to offend the chef.”

She glanced over at the counter as the owner and cook shouted, “Order up,” and placed a meatloaf special on the counter of the pass through window. With a sigh, she picked up her burger and took a bird-size bite. The surprise that captured her expression made him smile.

“I told you.” He tore off another bite of his own sandwich.

For a few minutes they ate in silence. Amber stopped sizing up every customer who entered, and she ate not only the burger but every single fry. Apparently the lady hadn’t realized how much she liked burgers. She’d polished off a good-size one at the Garage Café, too. All this time he’d been watching her on the news he’d had her figured for a vegan.

She patted her lips with her napkin. “Wow. I can’t believe I ate so much.”

“Good.” He tossed his own crumpled napkin into his now-empty serving dish. “Would you like dessert? They make the best deep-fried Oreo cookie on the planet.”

Amber held up her hands. “No, thanks. I couldn’t eat another bite.”

“Coffee then,” he suggested.

She nodded. “Coffee would be great.”

Sean waved over the waitress and ordered coffee. When she was on her way, he watched as Amber drifted back into her own troubling thoughts. “They’ll find him.”

She blinked as if resurfacing from a faraway place. “I hope so.”

“Harper and Cook are the best.”

She nodded. “They were part of the team Jess had when she was still with the department.”

Sean’s boss was pretty much a celebrity herself. “Lori Wells and Clint Hayes were on the team, too.” Clint was the senior investigator at B&C now. One of the things Sean liked most about the older man was his straightforwardness. He didn’t tolerate the games some people liked to play. Amber appeared to share that feeling. So far Sean had found her to be honest and direct. He liked that about her.

“Gina is always telling stories about Jess’s FBI days and how her profiles were responsible for bringing down the worst of the worst.”

“Eric Spears.” Sean was still living in Hollywood when the infamous serial killer followed Jess to Birmingham, but he’d heard plenty about it from his family.

“Eric Spears was at the top of the evil scale,” Amber said. “Gina did an exposé on the way Jess profiled using a scale she called the faces of evil.” She laughed. “I’m sure you’ve heard a great deal about how amazing your boss is.”

“She is amazing and tough.” Sean had experienced the latter firsthand.

Amber pushed her empty plate aside and braced her crossed arms on the table. She leaned forward and looked directly into his eyes. “How many other women have been hurt or murdered by Thrasher and Adler? What if Pettie and McCorkle weren’t their first victims?”

“Jess doesn’t think there were other victims, but we may never know for sure,” Sean allowed. The waitress arrived with two steaming cups of coffee. Sean gifted her with a smile and thanked her. He sipped his coffee, hoping Amber would do the same rather than dwell on the what-ifs.

When she followed his lead and tasted the coffee, she made an approving sound. “This place is full of surprises.”

The place looked a little rough on the surface, especially with the old truck front end hanging on the wall behind the bar. Rustic but homey in Sean’s opinion. The staff was extra friendly, and the craft beers were second to none. “My folks used to bring us here here as kids. It was a ritual after church on Sundays.”

Amber smiled, that genuine one that made his heart beat a little faster. “You went to church?”

“Didn’t you?” he teased. “You grew up in Birmingham—you must have.”

“I did. I still do occasionally. Work sometimes gets in the way.” She sipped her coffee and turned thoughtful for a moment. “Even when we traveled, we found a house of worship. Whether it was a Jewish temple or a Buddhist one. My parents embrace all people and their cultures.”

“More people should raise their children that way.” Sean damned sure intended to—if he ever had any. Now there was a thought that came out of left field. Just because he would turn thirty this year didn’t mean time was running out. As far as he knew guys didn’t have so-called biological clocks. He drowned the crazy idea with more coffee.

“Why does Jess believe there aren’t other murder victims?” Amber’s smile had disappeared. The worry was back in her eyes.

“She read the case files on Pettie and McCorkle. She concluded that the first murder, Pettie, was likely a surprise to both men. The work was sloppier. They were more careful and organized with the second victim, McCorkle. Even the way the cameras were placed in the homes, Pettie’s versus yours, was progressively more precise.”

“So they may have started out as Peeping Toms hiding in the girls’ bathroom at school or watching their sisters or mothers?”

“Exactly. The BPD confirmed the two attended the same schools. Jess believes they probably teamed up as school chums and things grew from there.”

Amber shivered visibly. Sean reached across the table and placed his hand on hers. “Even if Thrasher is stupid enough to try, he’ll have to go through me to get to you.”

A faint smile trembled across her lips. “I’m really grateful you’re here.”

The warmth that had spread up his arm and across his chest from nothing more than touching her hand had him wondering how grateful she would be if she knew how much he wanted to touch all of her.

She straightened away from the table, breaking the contact. “I think maybe I’ll have one of those deep-fried Oreos after all.”

Rather than summon the waitress, Sean went to the counter and placed the order. He needed the distance. Allowing personal involvement with a client was a mistake he did not intend to repeat. Too bad the only part of him sticking by that motto was his brain—everything else was pulsing with need. He returned to the booth only a few minutes later with their desserts, and they both dug in.

Whether the sugar rush had her thinking again or just gave her the courage to do so, she waded into sensitive territory. “Do you think they shared the videos on the internet? Will the FBI have to be involved?”

“The guy from the BPD’s lab is the top in his field. He’ll be able to determine how far the sharing went, if at all,” Sean explained. “If Adler and Thrasher were sharing their peep shows with friends via the Net, the FBI will more than likely be involved.”

She shuddered. “I feel so exposed.”

He understood. It was one thing for her to report the news on camera, but another one entirely for her private moments bathing and dressing to be videoed without her knowledge or consent. He knew a little something about feeling exposed.

“We’ll know more about what we’re looking at tomorrow,” he promised.

“I hope they find the other woman alive.” She nibbled at another bite of her dessert. “The timing would be right, you know, for another kidnapping. Pettie was in February, McCorkle in June. October makes four months. Isn’t that the way serial killers work?”

“Most have a pattern.” He nodded. “If Thrasher stuck to the pattern he and Adler followed and abducted a fourth victim, he did so in the past twenty-four hours. Since the other vics were held for several days before they were murdered, it makes sense that she would still be alive. Assuming, of course, the death of his partner hasn’t sent him off in a different direction.”

Amber sat her coffee down and stared into the cup for a moment as if searching for the right words. “Why do you suppose I was skipped? It was obvious they’d been watching me longer.”

“If Thrasher murdered Adler, we have to assume the two had a falling-out. I imagine the event put Thrasher into a tailspin. Before he could regain his bearings the body was discovered and you were brought in for questioning. I’ve been with you since. My guess is he moved on to the next name on the list.”

Amber leaned her head in her hand and rubbed her temple with her fingers. “I guess I’m the lucky one.”

Sean had learned enough from Jess to know luck had nothing to do with it. Something went down between Thrasher and Adler that disrupted the timeline of the two killers. In Sean’s opinion it was somehow related to Amber.

He wished the feeling that it was far from over would stop gnawing at him.

Oxmoor Glen Drive, 9:15 p.m.

S
EAN
TOSSED
THE
tennis ball across the room, and the big dog bounced after it. When he tried to take the ball back a tug-of-war ensued. Amber moistened her lips and bit back a grin. She found it far too endearing that her bodyguard played with his dog as if it were a child. He obviously loved the animal. She’d never had time for pets. Come to think of it, she rarely found time for anything other than work. Why was it the idea suddenly felt so wrong?

When Rebel had tired of playing, he curled up on the fluffy round bed in the corner. Sean gestured to the sofa. “Feel free to turn on the television. I should make sure the guest room is presentable.”

“I slept in it for a couple of hours this morning,” she reminded him. “I didn’t have any complaints. Besides, why would I turn on the television and listen to all the speculation and theories connecting me to Adler’s murder?”

“Good point.” He backed into the hallway and then disappeared.

Amber released a long, weary breath and surveyed Sean’s place. She hadn’t really taken in many of the details in the wee hours of this morning. The kitchen, dining and living space were one fairly large room. The place was nice with most modern amenities. A gas fireplace in the living room, stainless steel appliances in the kitchen and nice high ceilings. The decor was American bachelor simple: big, comfy sofa, huge television hanging over the fireplace and a coffee table littered with sports magazines and remotes.

On the bar that separated the kitchen from the rest of the space where he’d tossed his keys, there was a framed photograph of a young Sean, his siblings and their parents. His hair was considerably longer. She estimated the shot had been taken before he left for the West Coast. A built-in bookcase next to the fireplace held several books by one of her favorite mystery authors. She reached for last year’s release and smiled. So they had something besides the lack of a personal life in common after all.

“Have you picked up his latest?”

Amber closed the book and tucked it back onto the shelf. “I haven’t, but I plan to. You?”

“It’s on my bedside table. You’re welcome to it.”

Was he inviting her to his bed or to borrow his book? Her nerves jangled foolishly. She was nervous. The realization startled her. Hoping to keep that embarrassing revelation to herself, she pointed at him and gave a knowing nod. “You saw the stack on my bedside table, didn’t you?”

He shrugged. “I might have noticed.” He glanced at the clock in the cable box. “Would you like a beer?” Another of those completely male shrugs lifted his shoulders. “Sorry. I’ve been meaning to pick up a good bottle of wine for company. I’m pretty sure I have popcorn and a stash of peanuts.”

Was it her imagination or was he feeling as nervous as she was? “Nothing for me, thank you.”

For several seconds they stood there staring at each other.

She should say something. “I think I might shower and go to bed early.” She propped her lips into a broad smile. “Do a little reading maybe—if you don’t mind me borrowing that book.”

“Sure thing.” He hitched a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll get it for you.”

Scrubbing her unexpectedly sweaty palms against her hips, she followed him down the short hall. Butterflies had taken flight in her belly. She stopped at the door rather than follow him into his bedroom. Like the main living space, the decorating was minimal. A big bed, bedside table and a chest of drawers. She was surprised not to see another massive television. What she did see was a stack of books that rivaled her own.

He grabbed a pair of boxers and a lone shoe from the floor. “You need anything else to sleep in?”

She thought of the faded crimson tee that sported the Roll Tide logo she’d slept in that morning. “The T-shirt works.”

“There’re clean towels in the bathroom closet.” He winced. “Did your sister bring bodywash? You might not like my soap. I know you used it this morning, but that was kind of an emergency.”

“It’s fine.” It smelled like him, but she’d been too sick to care.

He tossed the shoe and boxers into his closet and then grabbed the hardcover from the bedside table. He crossed the room, coming toward her, and her heart beat considerably faster. She tried to swallow, but her throat felt closed.

He passed the book to her. “If you get past the sixth chapter, don’t tell me if he gets the girl.”

Her fingers brushed his and need ignited deep inside her. “Doesn’t he always get the girl?”

Sean was so close now the scent of his skin filled her senses. She wanted to reach out and run her hands over those broad shoulders. She wanted to trace every ridge and valley of the lean torso beneath that khaki shirt. She wanted to lose herself in the sensations and pretend her world wasn’t a total mess.