Authors: Jen Talty
“She told you this?” His brow lifted.
“I shouldn’t say anything. She doesn’t want you to know.”
“She doesn’t talk much to us these days. She’s a good kid, gets good grades, but she’s starting to rebel. Frankly, that scares me.”
“She’s not Marie.”
He tilted his head and smiled. “Shauna Morgan, quit your job so my brother can keep you.”
Before she had a chance to close her mouth and say something other than a grunt, he jumped on the boat and then coaxed his daughter to drive away.
Jessica turned and waved.
Shauna felt the tears hit the back of her eyes. She waved, taking in deep breaths. Travis was a lucky man to have such a wonderful family. They were all lucky.
She ran her fingers across the indentation in her back. Standing on the dock, she watched the wake behind the boat. She felt like the waves— rolling around, waiting to crash against the shore, just to be sent back out to hit the other side.
The question remained, when would she hit the other side and how much would it hurt?
She looked up to see Travis standing on the front deck, hair messed, jeans still partly undone.
“Not today,” she muttered to herself heading up the path. The crash against the shore would have to wait.
****
Travis wanted to make sure his family remained safe from a ruthless killer. His gut told him the bastard still lurked in the shadows. Travis always trusted his instincts, except when it came to women. He had been wrong about Gina, so wrong. But he wasn’t wrong about Shauna. She kept something from him. Something important about Jane Doe.
He scowled.
“What’s wrong?” Shauna asked as she glided up the stairs to the deck.
The feel of her fingers against his scalp as she ran them through his hair made him want to forget she was lying to him about something.
He grabbed her wrist. “Stop.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What crawled up your butt?”
“What do you know about Marie’s case that you’re not telling me?” He held her wrist, tighter than he should have.
His phone beeped.
He released her to pick up his cell. “It’s Scott.” He turned from her, not wanting to see the hurt he had put on her face. “Hi, Scott. What’s up?” Travis stared out over the lake.
“Another body, but this time the locals picked up a suspect. I need you here right away. Any idea where Shauna is?”
Travis rubbed his jaw; he was going to have to lie to his boss. “Yeah, I can reach her. I need an hour and half or so, I’m at my parents’.” He turned to Shauna, who didn’t look much better than he felt.
“You do that, get here ASAP,” Scott barked as if he picked up on the fact Travis had been staring into her eyes.
Travis took down the information Scott gave him. Moments after he hung up, Shauna’s cell phone rang out. “Shit. Answer it. I’ll be in the shower.” Travis wondered if he would even get through the next few hours without getting fired.
He didn’t hang out to hear her conversation with Scott. One thing he knew for sure, Shauna wanted this bastard as bad as he did.
The drive to Albany had been silent. Shauna didn’t even look at him. Pulling into the police station, Travis decided to open his mouth. “I won’t blow this. What happened at my parents’, stays at my parents’.” He jerked the car into park and turned.
“Get over yourself,” she said in a huff, not waiting for him to open the door.
“Shauna.”
She looked over her shoulder. “We’ve got a job to do,” she snapped, picking up the pace, heading for the door. “Let’s do it.”
He’d be damned if he was going to let her get to him. He smiled, opening the door for her.
“Thank you.”
A sudden chill hit his bones with her clipped tone, but he had to let it go.
They were greeted by two police officers who took them down to the two-way room. Once inside, they were given an update on the latest victim who was found in a dumpy hotel in downtown Albany. The Princess Killer had struck again.
Travis held the note the killer had left behind. It was basically the same, saying he was right there, watching, and warned that some people weren’t who they said they were. This time he knew it came from one of Shauna’s journals. He knew this because on the back was her handwriting. It was smudged and some of the words were crossed out, but it was Shauna’s. The look on her face confirmed it.
“What do you make of the note?” Scott asked.
“A game. He’s rubbing our face in it. For whatever reason, he’s snapped.” Travis cracked his neck, the tension was killing him. “Who is this guy?” Travis pointed to the man who sat alone the room behind the two-way mirror.
“We found him with this, two doors down.” A detective, who Travis didn’t know, held up one of Shauna’s journals.
Travis glanced at Shauna. She stood still and tall. He didn’t want to be impressed by her ability to carry herself in this situation, but he had to. “Do we know who it belongs to?” Travis looked around the room.
“Me.” Shauna reached out and took the journal. “I left most of my journals with my dad, whom I haven’t spoken to in years.” She flipped through the pages. “I think I must have been about fifteen when I wrote in this one.” Shauna tossed the book on the table, planted her hands on her hips and didn’t once look at Travis.
He prayed it had been left at her parents’ and not one of the journals that had been stolen from her hotel. They never filed a report. Never told a soul. That would be enough to not only pull them from this case, but fire his ass.
“We fingerprinted it.” Scott gave a pointed look at Travis. “This is too close for comfort.”
“Tell me about it.” Shauna stood facing the suspect. “This guy is toying with us,” she added.
“Ya don’t say,” Travis muttered.
“How do you suspect he got your journal?” one of the policemen barked.
“Beats me. When I left home, I never looked back. Wait.” She moved to the mirror, squinting. “Holy shit. Unfreaking believable.” She ran a hand through her hair and for the first time she looked at Travis. Her face had paled.
Travis didn’t like this one bit. “What.” He moved to stand next to her.
“I know him. He was one of my brother’s friends in school. A known drug dealer back then. He also had a little fondling problem. I think he got caught hiding in the girl’s locker room.”
“He’s got a rap sheet a half mile long. Been picked up for masturbating in public, peeping tom, and flashing,” one of the cops said.
“Doesn’t make for a rapist.” Travis cracked his neck again.
“Might explain how he got your journals, though,” Scott said under his breath.
“I doubt he’s our guy, but he knows something.” She turned. “I want to talk to him,” she said, placing her hands on her hips, color coming back to her cheeks.
“Works for me,” Scott said.
“Will he recognize you?” Travis tried to hide his concern. He was crossing the line from FBI Agent to caring man. Not very comfortable in a room full of cops.
“I hope so,” she said, glancing over her shoulder as she left.
Travis stood in front of the mirror, eyeing the suspect. This sicko would be alone with Shauna. He could do something and it would take at least three minutes before Travis could get to her. That made him sick to his stomach.
****
Shauna took a deep breath, gripping the door handle to the interrogation room. Chester Wilson was a pervert, no doubt. But he wasn’t her rapist. Blinking, she tried to remember everything she could. The wig, the blond hair under the wig and the Yankee’s baseball cap, but she couldn’t see her attacker’s face. It was blocked from in her memory. She pushed open the door.
“Hello, Chester.” She kept her back stiff and her voice strong. No one was going to rattle her today, except maybe Travis. But he did that every day. Her eyes darted to the mirror.
“Shauna Morgan?” Chester’s chin dropped to the floor and his eyes bulged.
“Agent Morgan. Tell me how you got this?” She tossed the journal on the table.
He smiled. It was an eerie smile and it made the hair on her arms stand up. Not much different then when she knew him in high school.
“I found it next to the dead body.”
“Why’d you kill her? Not really your style.” Shauna sat across from him. Her heart pounded and she forced her hands still. “You like to look, but that’s about it.”
“I didn’t kill her. She was dead when I found her.”
“But you didn’t call the cops.”
“Nope, don’t like them.” He frowned and looked toward the mirror. “Knew they would try to pin this on me.”
“If so, why stick around.” Shauna flipped through her journal, pages were missing, words crossed out. It was like he was taking pieces of her away, little by little, until she would no longer exist.
Chester leaned forward, smiling that smug, sadistic smile he had. “Because, I would look guilty if I ran.” His hand was on his lap. “I have something I’d like to show you, Shauna. Do you remember?” His finger tapped at her knee.
“Touch me again, asshole, and I will slam your face against the wall.” She looked deep into his eyes. He wasn’t The Princess Killer. He wasn’t old enough and his hair was the wrong color. She leaned closer. “Where did you get the journal?”
“I found it in the dead girl’s hotel room.” He sneered, gripping her leg, while he reached into his pants.
“I warned you.”
Just as the door opened, she grabbed his wrist, twisting it and pulling him to a standing position.
“Shauna.” Travis entered the room. But he was too late.
Shauna slammed Chester against the mirror. “Keep your dick in your pants and your hands to yourself, asshole.” She gave him one last shove and then flew past Travis into the hallway where she ran right into Scott.
“You okay?” Scott took her by the shoulders.
“Just freaking great.”
“I’m sorry. By the time we figured out what he was doing…well, you had it under control. Either way, we get to keep him for a while.”
Shauna was grateful for that. She felt a warm prickle up her spin. She didn’t have to turn to know Travis had just placed his hand on her back. “He’s not the Princess Killer,” Shauna added.
“I agree, but how the hell did he get a childhood journal? And why?” Scott shot Travis a pointed glare that didn’t go unnoticed by her. Shauna knew she had to explain this one, but not here.
“Can we talk outside?” She felt a little push by Travis, his way of agreeing.
Scott waved his hand out in front of them.
“Start talking,” Scott demanded once they were outside.
Shauna didn’t know quite where to start, or how to do this without downright lying. “When I was a teenager, I was raped.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” Scott raised a brow.
“You know all about my papers in school, don’t you?”
Scott nodded. “Agent Rollings is a close friend.”
“I’ve always kept journals.” She scowled. Agent Rollings knew a lot about her past life and had done his best to help her through the programs at Quantico. He used to tell her to use her knowledge as a victim to help categorize the criminal. “The one Chester had, I had left at my parents’ house, along with a few others. They have nothing to do with my ideas on serial rapists, just facts about my rape and what was going on when I was a kid. I started the journals after I started counseling.” She took a breath feeling Travis’s entire body tighten.
She didn’t know if she should be flattered or scared. The truth needed to come out and if he wanted to hate her, well that was his business. Nothing was going to stop her now.
“I graduated a year early and took off the same day, leaving everything behind. Knowing Roxanne, my stepmother, she would’ve had me arrested if I took even my own clothing.”
“You implied there were other journals,” Scott said, not hiding his frustration.
“I kept notes about my theories, other victims.”
“Travis’s sister?” Scott muttered.
“Those journals were stolen from my room a few days ago.”
“Jesus,” Travis muttered, hands on hips and it looked like he was trying not to pace.
“You knew about this?” Scott asked Travis.
“Not all of it, but…yeah, I knew.” Lacing his fingers together, and then pressing his palms away from his body, he cracked every knuckle.
Shauna decided to give her own little theory a test spin. “Whoever this killer is, he knows about my past, knows about Travis’s sister, and is using the fact we are working together to have his own little game of cat and mouse. It’s like we gave him the opportunity to snap.” She left out the fact the killer knew her because she was one of his victims.
“So let’s catch this asshole before he makes us look bad.” Scott pointed his finger at them. “You two are on thin ice. One complaint or problem, you are off the case—got it?”
Shauna and Travis nodded in unison. She knew they were lucky to still have a job, much less working on this case. Now she needed to find a way to feed information about what she was starting to remember to Travis, without telling him who she was. If he knew, she figured he would make damn sure she got fired. And shut her out completely.