Authors: Carolyn McCray
Ruben’s reverie ended as their captain closed the file. “I’m not even going to bother to ask where Harbinger is.”
Ruben snuck a peek over to Nicole, whose eyes were up from her hands, but averted from their captain’s gaze. She had no good answer to that question, and they all knew it. Ruben noticed her finger winding the string into a tight coil.
Glick continued, “As you know, I try to be the kinder, gentler captain, but I need an answer as to how we let this woman die, or I
will
start yelling.”
Surprisingly, Nicole glanced over at Ruben. While just a little flattered, he could not help her this time. Not with Kent. Not with another death under the profiler’s belt. “You don’t want me going first.”
To her credit, Nicole regrouped, straightening her back and abandoning the string. “Sir, the very fact that Kent was within moments of the killer shows that his methods are working.”
“This is the fourth victim on Kent’s watch.”
“We all knew there were going to be losses.” Nicole hurried on, “His technique is to hunt the victim—”
Ruben could not help himself. “So far, so good.”
“Thanks for proving my point,” Nicole snapped.
“I wasn’t.”
Flushed, Nicole turned to face him. “Can you do that? Can you watch a sea of women and pick the one, the
same
one as the killer? Because if you can, I’d like to see it.”
Ruben’s ears burned as his jaw clenched. What had gotten into her? Where did she get off talking to him like that? Throwing his inadequacies back into his face?
“I don’t think that was—” Glick tried to interrupt, but Nicole turned on him as well.
“Kent has the unique ability to find the victim first, then backtrack to the killer.”
“I know the jacket liner, Usher. What we—”
Nicole jumped over their captain’s words again. “He cuts off the killer at the proverbial pass.”
“Or not,” Ruben interjected.
Glick cut off Nicole’s retort. “It’s not his profiling skills that are the issue. We’ve got to face the possibility that he’s becoming more of a liability than an asset.”
“What?”
Ruben tensed as the captain glanced in his direction. With the slightest nod, he agreed that Glick should continue. Bracing himself, Ruben knew that Nicole would be angered, maybe even irate, with both of them. But their intervention was not just for the scared brunettes in the city, it was for Nicole as well. Someone had to break the sick influence Kent had over her.
Glick pulled out a large stack of files and flipped through them. “Twelve Peeping Tom reports. Five stalking complaints.” He overrode Nicole. “And a shoplifting incident.”
Ruben tried to suppress his anger and project a more sympathetic tone. “He’s out of control.”
“If the press or the public ever found out that we not only allowed but, worse,
encouraged
this kind of behavior—”
“We’ve already had four other FBI profilers before Kent.” Nicole didn’t bother to hide her exasperation.
Both men shifted uncomfortably. If Nicole was upset at this part? Well, this talk was not going to unfold well at all.
Glick measured his words out slowly and carefully. “Ruben has done some solid police work and perhaps might be better suited to run the case.”
CHAPTER 11
Nicole sat shocked, horrified, and more than a little confused. The words coming out of her captain’s mouth could not be the ones she thought she heard.
“Excuse me?”
“Torres has some angles on the case that I think Kent might have overlooked.”
Fury and betrayal overrode all else as she turned on her supposed partner. “And you were going to tell me this, when?”
Ruben shrugged. “You don’t like anything that contradicts your stubbled Sherlock.”
Nicole tried to speak, but the captain’s volume rose higher than she had heard for two years. Since Kent had left.
“We’ll hear from Ruben
and
Kent. We’ll look at their profiles side by side and decide in which direction to take the case.”
“That’s not—”
“We’ll hear them
both
out, Usher.” Glick’s tone could not be argued.
Choking back a hundred retorts, Nicole could only nod.
As graciously as she could, Nicole rose and exited Glick’s office, making sure to shut the door behind her. Tears of frustration sprang to her eyes, but she held them back as she passed the six or seven young cops who lingered in the bull pen. It was bad enough to have been humiliated back there, she did not need to repeat the experience in front of this eager crowd.
Once past the gaggle of onlookers, Nicole dug through her purse. Where in the hell were her keys? She wanted out of here. Now. Before Ruben came chasing after her, trying to placate her with how he had gone behind her back for her own good. She did not know how much more male manipulation she could stand right now.
Crossing to her desk, Nicole tossed the drawers. She found a stapler she thought that she had lost. Her favorite pen reclaimed, but no keys. She was so intent on her task that she did not hear her partner’s approach.
“Nikki,” Ruben’s tone sounded almost as bruised as her feelings.
“Don’t.”
The good old logical, thoughtful Ruben tried to reappear. “If I thought he was even slightly sane I would back off, but Nikki…” She could not see it, but she heard a deep sigh from her partner as Ruben continued, “You saw him tonight. Saw what he was like.”
Emotions constricted her throat as she checked the middle drawer again, but the words came out easily since she had defended Harbinger with them a hundred times before. “You know as well as I do that Kent has to strip his psyche down so far that he—”
“
You
…don’t.” His tone cut. “Save the misunderstood genius spiel for Glick.”
Nicole paused in her frantic search when she realized her hands were shaking. Was it fury at a partner who had betrayed her? Or the fact that he might be right about Kent?
Ruben stepped closer so that he could place his hand on her shoulder. “We all gave him another chance. It was Harbinger who blew it, not us.”
Tears stung again as she noticed a glint from the corner of her drawer.
Grabbing her keys, she said, “I’m out of here.”
Ruben wasn’t going to be denied. “Where to?”
“Home.”
“What happened to Thursday nights at my place?”
Nicole could not believe that Ruben would choose this night, this moment, to bring up their stagnant relationship. For weeks, no for months, neither of them brought up the fact that they had not had sex in forever, or the fact that their “dates” had devolved to the point where the only time they went out was to get the occasional beer with the rest of the squad.
She wasn’t about to change that dynamic. “I’m going home.
Alone
.”
“You so sure about that?” Nicole did not rise to the bait, but Ruben continued as he walked alongside her toward the exit. “Maybe Kent is hiding down in the shadows of the garage for a secret rendezvous?” She ignored him, but her partner refused to relent. “Let me guess. You two are off to some dark, mysterious locale?”
“I am not amused,” she tried to warn him off.
“A funeral parlor? Morgue? Oh wait, perhaps a picnic at a cemetery?”
That was it. Nicole turned on her heel. “You don’t know jack about him and obviously not much more about me.”
Instead of seeming angered, Ruben just looked sad. “He’s not the same man he was, Nikki.”
Why were all the men in her life spending so much time trying to protect her that they forgot she could protect herself?
“Did it ever occur to you that I’m not the same woman?” Nicole was done. Done wrangling. Done arguing. Done getting her feelings hurt. “You know what? No matter his flaws, Kent never would have stooped to playing politics behind your back.”
Not waiting for her partner’s retort, Nicole stormed toward the door.
Ruben’s words were just loud enough for her to catch, but quiet enough that Nicole could pretend she didn’t hear them. “No, because that would require him to actually
care
about someone.”
CHAPTER 12
Kent heard Nicole coming down the garage stairs before he saw her. She was hurrying. Rushing her steps. Traveling far too fast for her mood. Far too fast for those clunky high heels.
Oh, Nicole might be a great athlete, but graceful when pissed off she was not. Almost on cue, a loud clang resounded from the staircase. That would be her foot slipping off the end of a step, then her banging her elbow before catching herself with a last-ditch grab from her now numb wrist.
Sure enough, a pause in her footsteps and some muffled cursing. Kent knew her too well.
He knew once she was out of the stairwell exactly how many steps it would take her to get to her car. He knew she’d started using a new shampoo, because even though she took the time and energy to shop at a beauty supply house rather than picking up her hair care products at the grocery store, Nicole could not resist a bargain. He also knew that she carried a Nine West purse. Once she discovered this brand had penholders sewn right into the inner pocket, she’d never buy another brand.
Kent knew that and so much more. How Nicole could go for days without applying makeup but would not be caught dead without her nails polished.
Religiously, she bought the same color as the salon and had a bottle in her purse, in her car, and at home. That way, if Nicole barely even chipped a nail, she could repair it in a heartbeat. How many times before bed, and over his protests, had she pulled one of those bottles from her nightstand for a touch-up?
The thought brought a grin to his troubled lips. He knew her habits. Knew her moods. Knew her body better than she did. That’s how he knew she was only a few days away from her period. She would be at her most emotional, but also at the height of her sexual appetite.
A few years ago that combination would have guaranteed they take not one, but two or three rounds in her goose-downed bed. He knew all this as well as he knew his own name, but there was one thing he did not know.
How he could convince Nicole to help him.
Especially with what he had in mind.
CHAPTER 13
Nicole winced as she pushed the Mustang’s key into the lock. That blow to her elbow was going to bug her for a few days. Just another reminder of the disaster this night was chalking up to be. She could not wait until she crashed into bed. Maybe by daylight she could get some sense of perspective on Joann’s death and Kent’s abandonment.
She went to turn the key, then paused. She did not so much hear a breath or see a shoe tip, but Nicole just knew Kent stood behind her. The night just would not end.
“If you came all the way down here, you could have at least taken some of the heat during the meeting.”
“You should be more careful.”
Kent’s voice had never sounded so sexy. He could infuse words with honey and musk. Sweet and sultry. It took the sting out of almost everything that had happened tonight.
“I could have taken you six ways to Sunday,” she said.
“Really?” Was that amusement on his lips?
Then she found out why. Kent held out a gun, butt first, toward her. Why would he do that? Her hand flew to her holster. Her gun was missing.
No, not missing. It was being handed back to her.
Embarrassed, Nicole snatched the gun from him. “You’d better show up at the briefing tomorrow.”
Kent not only ignored her words, but used the distraction as she re-holstered her gun to grab her keys. Before she could stop him, Kent had opened the driver’s side door and hopped in as if it were his own. Just like he used to.
“Whoa. Where are we going?” Nicole asked as she made her way around to the passenger side. The profiler could give the most perfect, dead-on, teenage “duh” expression when he wanted to, but she was not as intuitive as he was, so Nicole had to ask. “Where?”
“Where else?” Kent rolled his eyes. “The morgue.”
Nicole’s hand dropped from the handle. “Of course.”
“You getting in or not?”
The argument with Ruben came back in a rush. How her partner had foreseen the profiler waiting for her in the garage. Her own words declaring she wasn’t the same woman she had been two years ago. Now was the time to prove it.
The thirty-two-year-old Nicole would have jumped in the car and gladly gone on the wild Kent-ride, but the thirty-four-year-old detective took a step back from the car.
“Go be morbid on your own time.”
“I already did.”
From the look on his face, Nicole knew Kent was not lying. But the situation still did not make any sense.
“Then why drag me there?”
Obviously Harbinger wasn’t used to her saying “no.” And didn’t sound very happy with it. “Get in or not.”
Kent getting bossy actually steeled Nicole’s resolve. She took another step back to make her intent clear. “Let me know how it goes.”
CHAPTER 14
Kent felt incredulous, which was odd, because he’d never experienced that particular emotion before.
Whatever you called it, it felt damn weird. A mixture of surprise, bewilderment, and just a hint of pride that Nicole had actually stood up for herself.
Tonight, however, was not the time to hear her roar.
He needed her.
Perhaps if he just told her that. Told her how much he needed her. And not just for breaking into morgues, but other, less gruesome things. Maybe if he just told her that, she might help. But that would break his cardinal rule.
Never, ever, even under threat of torture, be emotionally honest. If someone actually knew how you felt, they would have a hold over you. Like the hold he had over the psychos that he hunted. Once Kent knew basic truths about them, he had them by the short hairs. He would never allow another person to have that kind of control over him.
Not even Nicole.
Kent looked one last time in the rearview mirror to find that Nicole had not budged. She wanted to play chicken? He could play chicken. Kent turned on the engine. Put the car into gear. Revved the gas, but still the detective did not move.
Exactly how ballsy had Nicole gotten?