Profile of Evil (15 page)

Once Gail left the room, Carly glared at him with burning, reproachful eyes. "What are you doing here, Sam? How did you find me?"

"Which question do you want me to answer first?"

"Let's start with how in the hell did you find me?"

"I'm a federal agent. That's what I do," he said with confidence bordering on cockiness. Humility was never his problem, and his arrogance irked her.

"Whatever. My parents told you, didn't they?" she asked as she shot him a hostile glare.

"Are you questioning my investigative abilities, Carly?" he teased.

"Actually, every time I think of you, I question my
own
abilities in choosing men. Getting involved with my supervisor at the Bureau was one of the dumbest things I've ever done. Getting involved with you was pure idiocy."

"Don't say that, Carly. We meant a lot to each other, and you know it."

Gritting her teeth together tightly, she tried to keep her emotions under control. "Why are you here, Sam? Hopefully, it's not to talk about a past I want to forget."

"I need you back at the Bureau, Carly," he said.

"Go to hell. I gave you my resignation months ago."

"I didn't accept it. I put you on administrative leave. I’m saving your position for you.”

His tone infuriated her. "I'm not coming back."

"We have three missing children in Tampa. We suspect a child predator..."

Carly interrupted, "I don't want to hear about your case. I'm not coming back to the agency and I'm certainly never reporting to you again."

"If you won't consider returning to Florida for the job, then come back for me. I miss you, Carly. I need you." He put his hand on her arm but quickly removed it when she jerked away from him.

"You need me? That's a joke." She laughed contemptuously. "Let's do an instant replay of what happened last year."

"Carly..."

"Don't interrupt," she warned. "I finish my profile for Tim Brennan's team earlier than expected, so I fly back to surprise my lover. Once my plane lands, I buy a bottle of champagne, and head to your office. It's after hours, but I know what a hard worker you are and how many late nights you spend at work. Imagine my surprise when I enter your office and find you screwing the new trainee on top of your desk."

"It meant nothing," he insisted.

"It meant everything."

<><><>

Returning from an early meeting with Bradley Lucas, Brody balanced two lattes in one hand and a box of donuts in the other. "Morning, Deputy Sawyer."

"Good morning, sir," Gail said, glancing up from her computer.

"Is Carly in the conference room?" he asked.

"Yes, sir, but she's not alone."

"Is she meeting with Cam about the case?"

"No, sir. She's in there talking with an FBI agent."

"Oh?" he said curiously.

He headed to the conference room, stopping outside the door. What he heard was a heated conversation inside, and he debated whether or not he should interrupt. Taking the lattes and box of donuts to his office, he returned, knocked on the door, and then entered.

"Good morning," Brody said as he assessed the situation. Red-faced, her hands fisted at her side, Carly stood at the end of the conference room. Standing too close to her was a man who looked annoyed at his presence. Seeing the man in the room with Carly sent a jolt of unexpected jealousy through him as surely as if he'd stuck his finger in an electrical outlet. Where did that come from?

Brody strode to the end of the room, his hand outstretched. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Sheriff Brody Chase. Welcome to Shawnee County."

Shaking his hand, the man said, "I'm Sam Isley."

"My deputy tells me you're with the FBI."

"That's right. I'm with the Criminal Investigation Division in our Tampa office," he responded.

Brody glanced at Carly, noting the tension tightening the delicate features of her face. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"You didn't interrupt," Carly began. "We've finished our conversation. Agent Isley was just leaving."

"She's right. I have another appointment," said Isley as he moved toward the door. He aimed his final remark to Carly. "Think about what I said." He left closing the door behind him.

"Are you okay?" asked Brody. His brows drew together in a concerned expression.

"I'm fine," she responded. Her voice was low and trembling with anger and something else undefined. Her tough exterior was crumbling. She wasn't fine.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," she said, swallowing hard.

"Not sure I've told you, but I come from a family of great huggers. Would you like a hug?"

"Yes," she said as she fell into his arms, wrapping her arms around his middle.

The hug, meant as a friendly gesture, wasn't the best idea he'd ever had. It wasn't that he didn't want to hold Carly; it was that Brody wanted it too much. He'd wanted her since the night he saw her swimming in her pool. His face heated in a blush, as if he were fourteen. She smelled like soap, shampoo and woman, and he couldn't remember the last time a woman felt this good in his arms. He was aware of her in every pore of his body — her nearness, the scent of her, the heat of her skin. And if he didn't let her go soon, she'd be very aware of the hard evidence of his arousal.

Brody pulled away and said, "I almost forgot. I brought you a latte and donuts. I'll go get them."

Minutes later, when he returned to the conference room, the first thing he noticed was that Carly had taken off her khaki suit jacket. The snug black tank she wore clung to her figure enticingly. She was amazingly stacked with curves in all the right places. The sight stopped him dead in his tracks as a new blast of arousal hit him like a Mack truck. His dick rock-hard and standing at attention, he shifted the box of donuts to cover himself, placed it along with her latte on the table, and rushed out of the room.

What the hell was wrong with him? Carly Stone was a consultant, nothing more. She was his employee, and the very last woman he should get involved with. Not only would they be a subject of small-town gossip, she was leaving when her job ended.

This is what happens to a man when he takes a moratorium from relationships and one night stands, he thought. How long had it been since he'd been with a woman? Six months? Who was he kidding? It had been at least a year, and one look at Carly Stone had his sexual need hammering at his common sense. What he needed was a cold shower; what he got was a cold drink at the vending machine, and before heading back to his office to distract himself by tackling the stack of work on his desk.

<><><>

At noon, the serial killer task force was finishing up their lunch in the conference room when Gabriel Chase arrived. Carly couldn't believe how much Brody's younger brother did and didn't resemble him. Gabriel had the same dark hair and eyes, but he looked to be an inch or two shorter than Brody. His jet-black hair curled over his ears and the collar of his shirt. Unlike his serious and equally handsome older brother, Gabe had touches of humor around his mouth and near his eyes. Wearing a crisp white shirt, blue tie, brown leather jacket and jeans, he stood there, devilishly handsome. Carly could see why he was the woman-magnet his brother said he was.

"You must be Gabe," Carly said as she approached him.

"And you must be Carl, the consultant," Gabe returned with a wide smile. "Yeah, I heard about the typo. I would have loved to have seen Brody's face when he discovered you were a Carly and not a Carl."

"You'll have to ask Brody about that," Carly replied. "Good to meet you, Gabe."

Brody joined them. "I see you've met Carly," Brody said as he pulled Gabe into a bear hug. "I haven't seen much of you lately."

"I've got an insurance case, and I've been spending a lot of time doing surveillance in Evansville."

"That explains it," said Brody. "Remember I need to deputize you after the meeting. I don't want to take any chances that a defense attorney could get any computer evidence you find thrown out of court."

"No problem."

"Another thing. Do everything by the book on this one, Gabe. No going outside the box. This case is too important to put the evidence at risk."

"Understood," Gabe said with a nod, adding, "Trust me on this, Brody."

"I am, Gabe," Brody replied. "I've got a boxed lunch on the table for you. We'll get started soon."

Gabe settled down next to Cameron, while Carly sat between Bryan and Brody. She began reviewing her notes. She was an admitted perfectionist when it came to her profiles. It was her contribution to the investigation and she wanted it to make a big difference. More than anything, Carly wanted her profile to be the tool to help Brody and his team stop the killer before more victims were slain.

Brody started the meeting. "First of all, I want to thank each of you for agreeing to join this serial killer task force. You each bring a unique expertise to the table that will help us put the puzzle together and find this bastard. This afternoon, each of you will share what you've learned. Bryan, why don't you start?"

Approaching the end of the conference table, Bryan turned on a laptop connected to an LCD projector. "We've been able to identify the skeletal remains of four of the victims we found in shallow graves through the Missing Persons DNA Database. Unfortunately, the remains of the two victims we found two years ago are still not identified."

Bryan paused, and turned on the projector. The photo of the skeletal remains appeared on the screen. "Each victim was shot execution-style, at point blank range at the back of skull. No bullets were found, but judging from the size of the hole in the skulls, Dr. Harris and I both believe the bullet was a nine millimeter."

Cam interrupted, "It was, Bryan. I have the ATF report, and the bullet from Amanda and Sophia's crime scene is a nine millimeter and could have been shot from a Beretta 92, Sig Sauer Pro, or Glock. This isn't exactly exciting news, since half the damn county, including the county sheriff's team, carry Sig Sauers or Glocks."

Bryan pointed to a photo on the screen. "The young girl you see on the screen is our first victim, Sydney Jackson, who was thirteen-years-old at the time of her death. Sydney lived with her parents in Knightstown in Henry County. She's been missing for two years."

Bryan pushed a button on his laptop and another photo appeared on the screen. "Our next victim is identified as Alyssa Benjamin, fourteen-years-old and last seen at her home in Lebanon in Boone County. She ran away four years ago."

Carly shifted in her seat. It was unsettling to know these beautiful little girls were dead, their lives taken by a monster. She felt such empathy for the parents and loved ones left behind.

Another photo came into view. A preteen with sparkling blue eyes and a shock of red hair appeared on the screen. "This is Kayla Stuart from Attica in Fountain County. Kayla was thirteen years old when she disappeared three years ago."

Bryan flicked a button on his laptop to reveal another photo on the screen. "The last victim identified is Samantha Grey, age fifteen. She was last seen in Columbia City in Whitley County where she lived. Samantha was reported missing three-and-a-half years ago."

"So counting Amanda Jenkins and Sophia Bradford, we have six identified victims, all murdered in the same manner, and dumped in Shawnee County," said Brody, as he ran his hand through his hair. "Six victims. Damn it to hell."

As he jotted down notes in his tablet, Cameron said, "I'll follow up right away with the detectives in each of these counties assigned to the cases. I'll need any evidence and investigative notes they may have taken when they did their interviews. If I have questions, I'll follow up with each of the parents."

Carly leaned forward. "Cameron, please find out if they were able to find computers or cell phones belonging to the girls."

"Exactly," Gabe agreed. "I'd like to dig around in the victims' hard drives."

"Will do."

"Gabe, I know you haven't had much time, but did you find anything interesting about Amanda and Sophia's Internet use?" asked Brody.

"Actually, I did. They were both very active on their pages on MySpace, YouTube, Pinterest, and Facebook. They visited Craigslist frequently and communicated a lot through Twitter. Amanda and Sophia participated in chat rooms, but the one they both visited the most is a site called Teen Chat. This chat room appears to be set up for teen girls to meet teen boys and vice versa. Only, I doubt if all the teen males are actually teenagers. The site looks ideal for a predator trolling for young girls."

"Did you find anything else?" asked Cam.

"It's pretty obvious that neither girl had supervision or guidance about her online activities. Both included their names, ages, photos, physical descriptions, and telephone number on the social media sites where they had pages. Providing this kind of personal information is something kids should never do, and it's exactly what online predators look for. Unfortunately, these girls were ripe for the picking."