Take the Key and Lock Her Up (20 page)

“No.”

She blinked. “No?” Her cell phone beeped. She grabbed it impatiently and took the
call. A few seconds later, she shoved the phone back in her pocket. “Tuck’s outside.
The SWAT team is set up and ready to cover us in case those two yokels decide to start
shooting again. The area is secure. Let’s go.” She headed toward the door.

“Wait.”

She turned, her brows raised in question.

He braced his legs in a wide stance and crossed his arms. “If I’m not under arrest,
there’s no reason for me to go to the police station.”

Her mouth firmed into a tight line. “You’re not under arrest only if you agree to
the deal I offered. The man who killed Shannon Fisher and the unidentified victims
in that basement is holding at least two other women right now doing God only knows
what to them. All I’m asking you to do is answer some questions to help me find them
so I can save their lives. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

Of course it did. But he also knew Kelly Parker and anyone with her couldn’t be saved
by Emily and her fellow cops. It was becoming increasingly clear that Kelly was the
bait in a trap to catch
him
. The killer would keep her alive, maybe even provide proof of life at some point,
to lure Devlin to wherever she was being held. Did he care about her suffering? Of
course. Which meant he had to come up with a plan to save her without charging full
speed ahead and getting himself killed. Because once the killer eliminated his main
prey—Devlin—he’d have no reason to keep either of the women alive.

He braced himself for his next lie. If Emily thought he was bad to supposedly get
a woman pregnant and abandon her, she was going to despise him after this next one.

“Finding and saving those women is your job,” he said. “I have other things to do
that are a lot more fun than sitting in an interrogation room.”

The shocked, disgusted look that crossed her face was no worse than the way he felt
inside. Like a jerk, and a damn coward. But if sacrificing his pride kept her safe,
so be it. He had to get outside and offer himself as bait to lead his enemies away
from the diner before she went out the front. He strode past her to the bathroom door.

“Stop, Devlin, or I’ll shoot.”

He slowly turned around. Seeing his sexy little detective pointing a gun at him again
seemed every kind of wrong, especially when his blood was still raging from the hot
kiss they’d just shared.

“Seriously?” he said, faking shock. “You’re drawing on an unarmed man?
Again?
What will Drier say about that? Or Alex? I smell a lawsuit.”

She stomped her foot in frustration.

The urge to laugh at her childish action had him clenching his teeth. She was the
perfect blend of innocence, naïveté, and just plain stubbornness. Before he did something
they’d both regret—like kiss her again—he slipped out of the bathroom.

A quick side trip through the kitchen too quickly for anyone to even question his
presence and he was down the back hallway, standing at the rear exit. Now all he had
to do was make it to some kind of cover—without getting shot—and lead Cougar and his
handler away from Emily, all without a weapon of his own to return fire.

Simple. No problem.
He shook his head and cursed his decision to go to the police station this morning.
Then again, if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have gotten to kiss Emily. If he were killed
in the next few minutes, at least he’d die with that intoxicating memory still lingering
on his lips.

He cracked the door open and scanned the nearby buildings. Then he flung the door
wide and took off running.

Chapter Twelve

E
MILY SHUT THE
conference-room door behind her and crossed the squad room. Tuck’s face was alight
with curiosity as he scooted his chair beside her desk, like a lion lying in wait
for his prey.

“Well, what did they say?” He waved toward the glass-walled conference room as if
she didn’t know who “they” were.

After spending the past half hour being grilled by Lieutenant Drier and the FBI about
the alley shootout and whether it could be connected to the case, she wasn’t likely
to get confused on that point. Since Pierce and Tessa Buchanan were among the agents
in the conference room, it had been particularly challenging to explain what had happened
and why she hadn’t brought Devlin in to give a statement.

It would have been
less
challenging if she’d told them the whole truth. Embarrassment had kept her quiet
about the more intimate details. But something else had kept her from mentioning what
she’d said to Cyprian about EXIT and Devlin’s possible role in the company. Why? She
supposed part of it was that Drier and Tuck had already shot down her theories about
EXIT. But there was something else. She didn’t want to get Devlin into any trouble.

Yesterday, concern for Devlin wouldn’t have stopped her. But today, after that life-altering
kiss, and after he’d risked his life—again—to save her, everything had changed. Whether
she wanted him to or not, he was starting to
matter
. The irony wasn’t lost on her. She was tasked with upholding her city’s laws. Devlin
might possibly be a criminal; one of the worst kind, someone who killed for money.
How she could care about him even a little bit was baffling. Especially since lying
to protect him could impact her ability to solve the case.

All she could think of to excuse her actions was that she knew, deep in her bones,
that there was more to Devlin than he showed to the world. She’d caught several glimpses
of the good in him—like every time he helped another person, like Virginia Hawley,
or risked his life for them, like he’d done for Emily. It was that core of goodness
inside him that had her craving his company, wanting to get to know him better, and
wanting to help him get out of whatever mess he’d gotten into as a result of his connection
with EXIT. In short,
she
wanted to save
him
.

Maybe her momma was right. Maybe she should have been a doctor instead of a cop, because
lying to the FBI and her boss was every kind of wrong for someone in law enforcement.

“Earth to Emily. Hello,” Tuck’s voice called out.

She was standing by her desk, staring at the conference room but not really seeing
it.

“You okay? I think you might have fallen asleep on your feet.”

She latched onto that excuse as she sat. “Yeah, I suppose I need to go home per the
original plan and get some shut-eye.”

“Agreed. But not until you give me the scoop. I’m sure Drier wasn’t happy that SWAT
had to be called out when he’s trying to brief the FBI on the case in time for the
press conference.”

“Understatement. He blames me for making him split our resources since he has to send
a CSI team to the alley and canvass the area for witnesses. But since the FBI was
with him, he kept his growls to a dull roar. I’m sure he’ll make up for it later.”

“And?”

“And not much. The scoop is mostly what you already know. Our efforts to find the
missing women have failed so far. Since time is of the essence if we’re going to find
them alive, Drier swallowed his pride and asked the FBI for help. He’s reviewing the
case with them right now. As for the shooting in the alley, they’re all in agreement
that it’s probably unrelated.”

Tuck leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs at the ankles. “What about Devlin
Buchanan? They think it’s a coincidence he was involved in two different police incidents
in two days, but the incidents aren’t related? What about his brother and sister-in-law?
What did they say about it?”

“Officially, Pierce and Tessa agree with the others. The two events are unrelated,
just coincidences. Unofficially, I got the impression both of them were worried about
Devlin. I imagine they’ll be calling him as soon as the meeting is over. Good luck
with that. I tried calling him a dozen times when he left me in that diner. He’s not
answering.”

Tuck’s eyes narrowed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were worried about him.”

She shrugged, pretending indifference. “I need to take his statement on the shooting
to get me out of hot water with Drier. But on top of that, yeah, there are a couple
of gun-toting crazies after him for some country justice and I don’t know where he
is. Of course I’m concerned. I’d be concerned about
anyone
in those circumstances.”

He shook his head. “Nope. I’m not buying it. I think you’re obsessed with this guy.
I think you care way more about him than you would the average citizen on the street.”

“I am
not
obsessed with him,” she whispered, casting an anxious glance around the squad room.
“How about we drop him as a subject and brainstorm the case?”

“What about that nap you’re supposed to take?”

“In a few minutes. Humor me.”

He rested his forearms on her desk. “All right. Let’s start with the house where the
victims were found.”

“Owned by the city.” She quoted the facts from memory. “Forcibly seized by eminent
domain five years ago for a construction project. Funding was cut. Project canceled.
No one lives there. And none of the neighbors live close enough to notice if some
homeless guy, or a serial killer, took up residence.”

“What about the previous owner? Maybe he’s the killer and is squatting on the property
that was taken from him.”

“The team located the previous owners late last night and ruled them out. They’re
senior citizens with mobility issues and live in another state hundreds of miles away.”

“Okay, I call that a dead end.” He tapped his fingers on his leg. “I think it’s interesting
that we found only skeletons in the basement, no recent kills. I wonder if the killer
used that house as his playground at first, then moved to a new location, the one
where Hawley was briefly held. If so, why did he bring Hawley back to that basement?”

“Excellent question, but I’m out of theories right now,” she said. “What about a background
report on the deceased vic we’ve identified—Shannon Fisher? Wasn’t the night crew
supposed to pull that together?”

He hesitated, then sighed and leaned back to grab a piece of paper off the top of
his desk. “I probably shouldn’t let you look at this.”

“Why not?”

“It might send you off on a tangent.”

She snatched the report. One key word immediately caught her attention. She drew a
sharp breath. “Shannon Fisher was a tour guide for EXIT? Was that listed on the missing
persons report her parents filed?”

“I knew you’d zero in on that. And yes, it was on the MPR too. Things are happening
so fast, I didn’t catch that yesterday when we figured out Fisher was one of the vics.
Regardless, the detective who filed the MPR did his due diligence. He called human
resources at her place of work and asked about her. They said no one there knew she
was missing because she was on long-term leave.”

“I spoke to Cyprian yesterday. He didn’t mention anything about that.”

Tuck shrugged. “Why would he? He’s the CEO, and it’s a big company. He wouldn’t know
or interact with every employee. Human resources wouldn’t have had any reason to tell
the CEO about an employee going missing.”

“Who was her direct boss?”

“Some low guy on the totem pole, according to HR. You’re welcome to review the MPR,
but I really think this EXIT tie-in is just a coincidence.”

Her stomach dropped. No, it wasn’t a coincidence. It couldn’t be. The odds had to
be astronomical against two people connected to the case—Shannon and Devlin—working
as “guides” for the same company when it didn’t even have an office in Savannah. Alarm
bells were going off in her head again about EXIT Incorporated, but this time she
wasn’t sure what to do.

She had to speak to Devlin. She had to get him to talk to her, to explain. Earlier,
she’d been so convinced he was some kind of assassin. But could an assassin hold her
so tenderly in his arms, as he’d done less than an hour ago? Maybe the secrets he
was hiding were something completely different. But if she spoke to him and he couldn’t
come up with a reasonable explanation for the links between the case and EXIT, she’d
have no choice. She’d have to go to Drier, and the FBI, and make them listen. Her
instincts told her EXIT was involved in the abductions and murders. She just didn’t
know how, or why.

Tuck gave her a funny look. “Aren’t you going to try to convince me that EXIT is involved
after all?”

She slowly shook her head. “No. I think I’m going to have to look into this on my
own before we go down that road again.”

His brows rose. “On your own? What does that mean? We’re partners. In case you forgot.”

“I know, I know. But there’s something—” Her cell phone rang. She grabbed it like
a lifeline while Tuck folded his arms, not looking happy with her at all. When she
saw the number on the display, her pulse sped up.

“Who is it?” Tuck asked.

“Devlin. Sort of.”

He frowned and waited while she took the call.

“Uh-huh,” she said. “Uh-huh. Okay. Don’t lose him. We’re on our way.” She shoved her
phone into her pocket. “When I got back from that fiasco across the street, I
might
have asked one of the rookies to keep an eye on Buchanan’s truck in the parking lot.
And I
may
have asked him to tail Buchanan if he returned to the truck.”

“Damn it, Emily.”

“Come on, Tuck. I’m punch-drunk. There’s no way I can maintain a tail without being
seen. Besides, you’re way better at that than me. I need you to drive.”

He rolled his eyes and grabbed his keys.

“H
E
’
S TAKING US
on a tour of the Historic District.” Emily clutched the armrest as Tuck took another
turn. Devlin’s white pickup truck was two blocks in front of them. Tuck had maintained
the tail like a true pro, passing the truck when it slowed for a turn, driving down
parallel streets, picking up the tail at the next major intersection. “He must know
we’re following him, but I don’t see how. You’re better at following people than anyone
else I know.”