Evidence of Passion (6 page)

His gaze fell on the wall to the right. Framed, black-and-white photographs filled that wall. The photographs were of D.C. landmarks—the Ford’s Theatre, the Lincoln Memorial, the Washington Monument. He stared at those images, caught by a pang of familiarity.

Those were Rachel’s work. The angles of the images, the use of light, the stark white-and-black contrast—he’d seen her work before.

She’d given the images to Dylan Foxx, and the man had put them up on his bedroom wall.

The attachment is there. Dylan is more than just a teammate.

Jack stormed toward the nightstand and yanked it open.

And inside...he found a photograph. A framed picture of Rachel. She was smiling. She looked
happy.

In that picture, she was standing right beside Dylan Foxx. The guy had his arm wrapped around Rachel’s shoulders.

Jack’s fist slammed into the glass, shattering it.

* * *

D
YLAN
’
S
PHONE
BEGAN
to beep. He yanked it up and cursed when he saw the screen. “Turn the vehicle around,” he ordered Thomas. “Now.”

Thomas braked. The SUV jerked to a stop.

“What’s happening?” Rachel asked as she turned toward him.

Dylan looked at her. “I have a few backup security devices at my place. Someone just triggered one of those alarms.”

Her eyes widened.

Thomas spun the vehicle around.

Dylan scrolled through the alerts that had just come through on his phone. “The main system is showing an all-clear signal, but the motion sensor in the bedroom says that someone is in there right now.”

“Jack?” Rachel whispered.

He thought so. Because Jack was good at getting past security systems.
You just weren’t good enough this time.

The tires squealed as Thomas raced back toward Dylan’s building.

* * *

J
ACK
STEPPED
ON
pieces of the shattered frame. Dylan had just revealed too much.

She was in his bed. He keeps her photograph close.

Jack advanced toward the door.

And his gaze lifted, just for a moment. He saw the small white box mounted in the corner of the bedroom, about a foot away from the door. A little, red light glinted on that box.

Motion sensor.

He smiled. Well, well. Jack wondered how much time he’d have before Dylan came racing back to the scene.

Jack bent and pulled the knife from the sheath at his ankle. If Dylan got back too quickly, then Jack would handle him.

Maybe today will be the day that you die, Dylan Foxx.

Jack strode out of the bedroom.

* * *

A
S
SOON
AS
Thomas’s SUV stopped at the edge of the sidewalk, Rachel jumped from the vehicle. She ran toward Dylan’s building.

Dylan grabbed her arm. His hold hauled her back around. “What are you doing?”

Uh, her job? She had her weapon out, and she was ready to confront Jack.

“We go in together,” Dylan said as his hold tightened on her. “We don’t know what we might find inside.”

Her heartbeat wouldn’t slow down. Rachel was usually pretty cool in combat situations. As a marine, she
had
to be cool. Going in too hot or too wild would just be dangerous.

But this wasn’t a normal combat situation. This wasn’t even a normal mission. This was Jack.

Thomas joined them. He also had his gun out.

It was a good thing Dylan’s building was fairly isolated. He was the only one on the second floor. The first floor was empty—and owned by Dylan.

If any neighbors
had
been around, the sight of the weapons would’ve sent them all fleeing.

“I lead,” Dylan said. “Thomas, you stay down here just in case he tries to run.” His gaze held Rachel’s. “You watch my back. I watch yours.”

That was the way it normally was for them. Rachel nodded.

They rushed up the flight of stairs that would take them to the second level. Her feet pounded in a fast rhythm that nearly matched her heartbeat. They burst onto the second floor.

Dylan’s door was shut.

He glanced at her.

Rachel nodded.

Dylan yanked on the knob—
open—
and he burst inside. Rachel was right beside him. They went in with their weapons up, and they cleared the place, room by room.

Jack wasn’t there.

No one was.

Rachel paused beside Dylan’s bed. Her feet crunched on broken glass. She frowned. The glass was there, but she didn’t know where it had come from. “Dylan...?”

“He’s gone.” He yanked out his phone and then, barely two seconds later, he said, “Thomas, he’s not up here. Start sweeping the perimeter because he couldn’t have gone far, not yet.”

Rachel backed away from the bed as Dylan kept giving his orders. When he ended the call with Thomas, Dylan contacted the EOD office and asked for a forensics team to meet at his place.

But Rachel doubted the team would find any fingerprints on the scene. Jack was too good to leave any traces behind. She turned away, determined to go and help Thomas with his search.

“No.” Dylan’s sharp voice stopped her.

She glanced back.

“Not without me,” he said. “The guy’s close, too close, and he’s playing with us.”

A break-in at her place. A break-in at his. Rachel wasn’t sure that Jack was playing with them, though. “I think he’s researching us.”

A faint line appeared between Dylan’s dark brows.

“It’s what he does,” Rachel continued. She’d made it her mission to learn as much as she possibly could about Jack and his victims. “He researches his prey. Learns their weaknesses, and then he goes in for the kill.”

It wasn’t just a game to Jack.

It was life...and death.

Chapter Three

Rachel held her body perfectly still as she sat in the conference room at the EOD. Bruce Mercer had just walked into the room. She figured the EOD boss was pushing sixty, but he was still completely fit and incredibly intimidating.

He’d intimidated Rachel from the first moment she’d met him. According to the whispers she’d heard, Mercer was the man pulling the strings in D.C. He knew all the secrets the politicians wanted to keep hidden, and he could expose those secrets at any time.

But Mercer wasn’t the only one to enter that conference room. Noelle Evers followed him inside.

Rachel tried not to let her surprise show. Noelle Evers—
Dr.
Noelle Evers—wasn’t EOD. Or at least she hadn’t been. A few months ago, Noelle had come in to do some freelance profiling work for Mercer. Noelle normally worked for the FBI. She was supposed to be one of the best when it came to creating criminal profiles.

Mercer had originally used Noelle in an attempt to catch a rogue agent at the EOD. Noelle had created a profile to lead them all to the killer.

But that case is over, so why is Noelle still here?

Rachel was seated between Thomas and Dylan. Mercer and Noelle settled in the chairs across from them. Rachel noticed that Noelle’s hazel gaze darted toward Thomas.

A quick glance showed Rachel that Thomas’s stare was locked right on the profiler.

Interesting. Thomas didn’t make a habit of showing obvious interest in anyone or anything.

“Our security team finished their sweeps.” Mercer’s voice filled the room. He had that kind of voice. Strong. A little
too
loud. He was obviously used to barking orders. It was only too easy for Rachel to imagine Mercer as a drill sergeant. She’d bet a hundred bucks he had been at one time.

“The guy knows his B and E,” Mercer continued. “No prints, no trace evidence at your place, Rachel.”

She’d expected that.

Mercer’s focus shifted to Dylan. “But it looks as if things got a little more personal for him at your place.”

Wait, what was that supposed to mean?

Then Mercer reached into a small briefcase and pulled out an evidence bag. He pushed a frame across the table at them. “Unless you’re the one who smashed this picture, Agent Foxx?”

Rachel leaned forward to get a better view of the framed image. It was a photo of her and Dylan. It had been taken after their mission in Panama last year. They’d been so happy to get the hostages out of that place alive.

“No.” Dylan’s voice was clipped. “I didn’t smash it.”

“I figured you hadn’t, but I needed to be sure.” Mercer left the frame on the table. A few shards of broken glass remained on top of the photo. “We found it inside your nightstand drawer.”

“That’s where it usually is,” Dylan said. Again, his words were clipped.

Rachel’s gaze jumped to him. He kept a photo of them in his bedroom?

Dylan didn’t look her way, so Rachel glanced toward Mercer and Noelle once more.

Noelle’s gaze was studying her. Rachel didn’t like that particular look from the profiler. It made her feel a little too much like a bug under a microscope.

“I hoped Jack had cut himself on the glass, but...” Mercer exhaled on a long sigh. “No such luck. No doubt he was wearing gloves. The gloves would explain why there were no prints and no blood.”

“We were just minutes behind him,” Thomas said. He gave a disgusted shake of his head. “But he still just disappeared.”

“He’s good at that,” Mercer replied. “Too good.” Then he glanced over at Noelle. “And that’s why we have to
make
him come out into the open.”

Rachel had known this would be coming. Mercer’s bait plan, no doubt. He’d want to use her—

“Agent Foxx, you’re going to draw Jack out for us.”

“What?”
Rachel’s voice rose with her surprise. Dylan wasn’t supposed to be bait. He
couldn’t
be bait.

But Dylan just nodded and said, “Bring it.”

No, no, this was
not
happening.

Her hand slammed down on the table. “You all don’t understand—”

“Actually,” Mercer said, cutting through her angry words, “I think I do. And Noelle, here, she’s very good at predicting what killers will do. She
understands
them particularly well.”

Noelle gave a firm nod. The light reflected off the lenses of her glasses. “He isn’t going to kill you, Rachel. You don’t have to worry about that.”

A laugh escaped her. A broken, twisted laugh. “Really? He’s not? Because when he drugged me, tied me up and
shot
me before, I certainly got the impression that Jack wanted me dead.”

Noelle held her stare. There was sympathy in the profiler’s gaze. “I’m very sorry for what happened to you, but—and this
isn’t
to make light of the situation in any way—”

Was the woman serious? Rachel’s hands balled into fists in her lap.

“But if Jack had truly wanted to kill you, then why didn’t he just slit your throat while he had you tied up?”

Dylan stiffened.

“Or he could have aimed for your heart when he shot you,” Noelle continued. “But he didn’t. He hit your shoulder. A flesh wound. He’s suspected in dozens of kills, so we know he’s a professional. I just don’t...I don’t believe a professional would ever make a mistake like that.” A brief pause. “Unless he
wanted
to make that mistake.”

A dull ringing filled Rachel’s ears. “You’re saying he let me live.”

“Yes.”

“He
kidnapped
me.”

Noelle’s lips pressed together for a moment, then she softly said, “Perhaps he thought that he
could
go through with the hit on you. But then something changed. Maybe it was seeing you, helpless, realizing that he held the power over you. For men like him, everything is about power.”

Rachel’s nails bit deeper into her palms.

“He
didn’t
kill you when he had the chance.” Noelle’s shoulders straightened. “And I don’t believe that he is back to kill you now.”

This was crazy. So much for Noelle being some kind of expert who could peer into a killer’s mind. “Jack said he’d come back—”

“But I don’t think he meant to kill you. I think...I believe—” now Noelle’s voice strengthened as she continued “—he told you that he’d come back...because he wants to be with you.”

Rachel could only shake her head.

“But there’s a problem,” Noelle said. Her gaze swept over to Dylan. “You’re the problem, Agent Foxx. You’re the man standing between Jack and the woman that he wants.” Noelle bent over the table and her finger—tipped with light pink polish—hovered over the frame. “You’re the man he sees as his competition for Rachel. And you’re the man that he will try and eliminate.”

Rachel shot to her feet. “No.
No.
”

All eyes were on her now.

Good. They needed to listen very carefully to her. “I get that you’ve got a fistful of degrees that tell you how to play mind games, Dr.
Evers.”

Noelle tensed. “I don’t consider them games at all.”

Rachel wasn’t so sure. “But you don’t know Jack.
I
don’t even know him, and I dated the man for three months.” Months that seemed like a dream to her now. No, not a dream, a nightmare. “He isn’t in town to make some kind of love connection with me. He
killed
Hank Patterson. Jack is in town to take care of his usual business—death.” That had to be obvious to everyone.

“He might have come to D.C. because he had a hit,” Mercer agreed, “but that doesn’t explain why he went to your place or to Dylan’s.” His fingers tapped on the table’s edge. “I’m actually surprised that Dylan came up on his radar, but then, if Jack has been keeping track of you—”

“And I think he has,” Noelle said.

“Then he’d know that you and Dylan are...close.”

“We aren’t dating!” Okay, yes, she was definitely flushing as she said that line.

“But Jack believes you are.” Now Noelle cocked her head as her gaze slid between them. “The picture he discovered of you two will be the evidence he needs to cement that belief in his head.”

And, if Jack had been watching her last night, then he would’ve seen Dylan kiss her, too. They’d been right there in the street. Her nervous gaze flew over to Dylan. He wasn’t looking at her. Just staring straight at Mercer.

A soldier, awaiting his orders.

But the orders could get him
killed.

“The fact that he broke into Dylan’s home works for us,” Mercer said. “It shows that he still has a connection to you, Rachel, and that he doesn’t like it that another man is close to you.”

Her breath was coming too fast. Rachel tried to ease the panting as she held tightly to her control. “He could be planning other hits,” Rachel said. “We need to work on that angle for tracking him down. We need to find out why he went after Patterson—”

“And we will,” Mercer said. “You, Foxx and Thomas Anthony will run down those leads.”

Now that was something that she could work with. She could—

“You and Foxx are to stay close to one another at all times,” Mercer added with a stern stare. “The closer that you two are, then the more likely Jack will make an attack on Foxx.”

She was still on her feet, and Mercer, apparently, was still insane. “You’re wrong about Jack.” Mercer was wrong. The profiler was wrong. Jack wasn’t keeping her alive because of some emotional connection he felt to her.

He could kill her at any time.
But I’m harder to kill now. Dylan taught me how to be even stronger.

Mercer just shrugged. “If I’m wrong, then he’ll come to kill you. And in that case—well, Dylan will be
there. I’m covering my bases, Agent Mancini. I’m doing my best to keep all of my agents alive, and I
will
bring down this SOB before he has the chance to escape the country again.”

Tension had Rachel’s muscles trembling.

“That’s it for now,” Mercer said, his voice lowering. “Now let’s get to work and
find Jack
.”

Rachel headed for the door. Thomas was at her side.

“Ah, Agent Foxx?” Mercer said. “A moment, please.”

Rachel looked back. She did
not
like the expression in Mercer’s eyes.

And the determination on Dylan’s face chilled her.

* * *

T
HE
DOOR
CLOSED
behind Rachel and Thomas. Dylan remained in his seat, with his gaze on Mercer. Noelle was still with the director, and the glance she threw his way held more than a hint of nervousness.

Ah, so Noelle wasn’t exactly game-on for whatever plan Mercer was about to spill.

“I expected Rachel to be...hesitant,” Mercer began.

Dylan let his brows lift.

“But we can use your relationship with Mancini.” Mercer gave a firm nod. “It’s the most obvious tool that we have.”

Keeping the emotion out of his voice, Dylan asked, “Just what sort of relationship do you think I have with Rachel? Team members working in the field aren’t allowed to have...physical relationships.” That was the spiel they’d all been given when they joined the EOD.

“It’s not what I think that matters.” Mercer’s lips curled in the faintest of smiles. “It’s what Jack thinks. Rachel is the only emotional connection we know that the man has—”

“He may not have even realized that he
could
connect with someone.” Noelle spoke up as she slid off her glasses. “Not until he found her. And his connection to Rachel isn’t exactly the way a normal man would feel. It’s not, of course, the way that you feel—”

Dylan held up his hand. “Neither of you know anything about my feelings for Rachel.”

Noelle bit her lip.

Mercer just kept that faint smile on his face, then after a moment he inclined his head. “I know enough to realize that you’ll get the job done, won’t you? I believe your words were, ‘Bring it’, yes?”

Hell, yes. He wanted Jack to come his way. Because Dylan didn’t want Rachel afraid any longer. He knew she still looked over her shoulder, wondering when Jack might strike. She wasn’t going to be safe again, not until Jack was contained.

Or killed.

“It’s the appearance that matters,” Mercer told him. “Give Jack the appearance necessary to push him over the edge. Let him think that you and Rachel are lovers.”

His back teeth were grinding together. “What if this BS plan of yours backfires? What if he doesn’t come after me? What if he goes after Rachel?”

“Like I said before, that’s why the two of you are working so closely. You’ll guard her back. She’ll watch yours. That is the way things worked for you and Agent Mancini on your other missions.”

Yes, it was.

Noelle shifted slightly in her chair. “And Agent Anthony will be there, covering you both.”

Dylan glanced down at his hands. Rachel’s fingers had been clenched into tight fists. Her knuckles had been white as tension coursed through her body. He’d wanted to stroke her shoulder, to soothe her, but he hadn’t reached out to Rachel. Not with Mercer and Noelle watching them so closely.

“The EOD has taken a very personal interest in Jack.”

Dylan looked up at those low words. Mercer’s smile was gone.

“That interest isn’t just because of Agent Mancini, though I hope you know how much I value her.” Mercer stood. His chair rolled back behind him. “Jack has been killing for ten years. The very first man that he killed—the first we linked him to, anyway—worked in my military unit. Carson George survived wars, enemy camps and flat-out hell, only to be taken down in his own apartment just outside D.C.”

Dylan had read all of the files on Jack. “He always goes after military, either currently enlisted personnel or retired members.” No civilians, ever.

Why?

Noelle cleared her throat. “I think he’s ex-military, too. And he sees his victims...he sees them as more of a challenge. Going after civilians would be too easy, and Jack isn’t for easy.”

No, he was for blood. For death.

“I’ve known several of his victims. They were good men and women. Jack has to be stopped.” Mercer nodded toward Noelle. “The FBI is after him, too, so watch your step.”