Target (8 page)

“READY TO GO?”
Liam’s presence filled the doorway to Andrea’s office more effectively than his lean physique.

She glanced back at her computer. Best not to think about that too much, otherwise she’d end up all hot and bothered, which wasn’t totally helpful when you’d decided to save that stuff for after marriage. “Sure, I can wrap this up.”

It was after eight, and even though there wasn’t much waiting for her at home…except more waiting, it was still better than keeping everyone out late just because she didn’t want to leave.

Why couldn’t the Chloroform Killer make his move already?
Enough toying with her. Andrea was ready to throw down, which even she could admit was hilarious, since she’d never learned how to fight and hadn’t thrown a punch in her life. Not even in a gym class, because you actually had to
go
to the gym to take a gym class.

Liam wandered over and sat on the edge of her desk, by her right elbow.

She looked up at him.

“Don’t mind me. I’m good whenever you’re ready.”

Yeah, because it was so easy to concentrate on quarterly earnings reports when his leg was right by her arm. Apparently he’d decided to forget about the whole
professional distance
thing. Where was all the awkwardness from yesterday? “How was your evening last night?”

“Good.” He smiled. “I spoke to my dad, about my sister.”

“You did?”

“I realized I was still looking at it like I was fifteen and powerless. He gave me a different perspective.” He paused. “I should call my mom, too.
Talk to her. She’s a Christian, like you.”

At least he wasn’t totally unfamiliar with what that meant, if his mom had been a believer for any length of time. Everyone was different and everyone understood faith from their own perspective, but the basic tenets were the same, no matter which denomination you belonged to.

“But you’ve never made that decision for yourself?”

Liam shrugged one shoulder. “I was always busy. But my mom will tell me about what she’s learning when we talk, you know? So it feels familiar, even though I know you’re supposed to pray and take it on board in your own life and all that. I like my life; I didn’t really want to change how I do everything.”

“And you still feel that way?”

“I’m not sure. One person in my life who believed was fine, then there was Caisey, but she doesn’t bring faith into her work much. Although sometimes it’s just there because it’s part of
who she is. Meeting you and finding another person I respect who holds it to be true…that’s a little less avoidable.” He studied her for a moment. “Is this a deal breaker for you?”

She didn’t want to say yes, even if his being a Christian would be the best way to begin a relationship—on the same page about fundamental things like life and marriage. But she didn’t want him to believe just because it was important to her. He needed to discover what
was truth for himself, like she had in college when her roommate had told her about church and Jesus. It had taken a few weeks, reading a lot, and asking some questions, but Andrea had finally accepted Christianity was the truth for herself.

Liam needed to do the same.
On his own terms.

“Now might be a good time for you to look into that. I’m here if you want to ask any questions, and I’m not going to write you off if you decide you don’t agree with me. But I do think relationships should have shared values. It makes you stronger when you can stand firm on the same things.”

She’d seen it at church, and in friends who did activities as couples. Who wouldn’t want that?

“Agreed.”
He gave a gentle squeeze to her elbow. “All right then, I’ll do that.”

The lights flickered and went out.

“Stay in your chair. You hear anything you don’t like you get under the desk, get your phone and call 9-1-1.”

Liam stepped to the door, his shoes completely silent on the floor.

**

Caisey grabbed two paper towels and dried off her hands. The harsh glare of the bathroom’s fluorescents didn’t do her any favors. She looked like she needed a week’s worth of sleep. Or more than just another swipe of mascara and some more lip balm. When the case was over she’d have to raid Jenna’s exploding makeup case and borrow something her friend wasn’t going to miss anyway. It was one of the benefits of having her as a roommate.

And anytime Jenna needed a pair of black ankle socks—or a pistol—she knew where to come.

The lights shut off.

Caisey pushed out a breath through pursed lips, breaking the silence. She didn’t move, just pulled out her phone and turned on the flashlight that activated the camera’s flash.

The lock on the door turned.

Caisey went to the handle, but it wouldn’t turn. She pulled at the door, jiggled the handle again, and then gave it a swift kick with the toe of her boot.

Liam answered before her end even rang.
“Conners.”

“He’s here?”

“No sign yet. I already called it in.”

Caisey gritted her teeth. “I’m locked in the bathroom.”

“Down from the elevators?”

“Yup.”
If she tried hard enough, she could break the door down. Maybe.

“Sit tight. I don’t want to get that far from Andrea. The rest of the team will be here shortly.”

While her partner took on the Chloroform Killer all by himself?

Caisey shoved at the door. “Liam…”

But he’d already hung up.

**

Andrea didn’t wait for the Chloroform Killer to show up. She crawled under the desk and sat by the space heater she used to warm up her feet in the mornings, before the coffee was done brewing.

Why had she made them all stay late? They could have been home.
Not safe, but at least not here. Why hadn’t she listened to her own good sense? Now Liam was out there, facing down the killer. He was an FBI agent, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t sick at the thought of something happening to him.

God, keep him safe.

A creak.

The door was opened.

The wood dragged across the floor and Andrea froze; her whole body solid. She didn’t breathe for fear the Chloroform Killer would hear her. This was the monster who had killed Kiera. He’d taken an already broken woman and totally destroyed her. What was he going to do to Andrea?

Liam wouldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t. He’d promised her that she would be safe and she’d believed him. The kind of man he was would shift the axis of the world to keep his promises. That was why she had every intention of holding on to him now that she’d found him.

In the dark, curled up under the desk, Andrea tracked his footsteps. He moved with no light as though he knew intimately the layout of her office.

God, please…

What was she going to ask? She couldn’t even think, let alone form a silent prayer that was her only hope that she and Liam, and Caisey, would get out of this alive.

“Hello, Andrea.”

**

Liam heard the scream and raced back to Andrea’s office. He scanned the room with his flashlight and weapon both aimed.

Empty.

He could hear Caisey banging on the bathroom door and yelling. The closest exit was to the left, the stairs at the end of the hall opposite the bathroom. If she wasn’t hurt, she was going to have to wait until he found Andrea.

Liam raced to the stair exit. The door was ajar, dim light coming from the stairwell. Emergency lighting.

A black form disappeared through the door and it clicked shut. Liam slammed into it at full speed, hitting the handle with his hand and turning into the stairwell landing, lifting up his gun as he swept the space.

Two steps down and descending, Andrea was over his shoulder.

“FBI, freeze!”

The Chloroform Killer dropped Andrea on the concrete stairs and ran. Liam fired off three shots. The guy’s body jerked, but he kept going.

He stopped by Andrea and pulled out his phone, dialing his boss.

“Burkot.”

“He’s in the stairwell, heading down.”

“We’re still half a mile away. There was an accident on Broadway. We won’t make it in time, you have to get him.”

“He’s gone. I’ll never catch up and I’m not leaving Andrea.”

Burkot hung up.

Blood streamed from Andrea’s temple. Head wounds always looked worse than they were, but tell that to his heart. It felt like it was going to explode out of his chest.

God, don’t let her die.

He’d always known there was a God, but never acknowledged Him much before now. But if
it meant the difference between Andrea living or dying, he wasn’t going to risk not playing all the cards he had to play. And imploring a higher being was one of them.

I’ll follow
You. Just don’t let anything happen to her.

It was lame to make that bargain, like God was so petty he’d save her just because Liam agreed to trust in Him.

But he didn’t have anything else God might actually want.

**

Caisey lifted her chin and looked over Burkot’s shoulder. She agreed with his description of the night’s events and the Chloroform Killer’s escape, but tried not to use that particular word to describe anything, let alone the colossal mess they’d made of the case.

Liam was at the hospital with Andrea, who’d been admitted for observation even though the tests they’d done on her head all came back fine.

Caisey had been locked in the bathroom, the entire time. How dumb was she? A serial killer came after her friend, her charge, and her partner had to face him alone. Caisey had been taken out of the equation by something so stupid as being locked in the bathroom.

“Let me fix this.”

His eyebrow lifted. “And how exactly do you intend to do that, Special Agent Lyons?”

Since Liam told her about Brenda Peterson and their resemblance, the idea had been forming. Could she really pull this off? If she didn’t try, she’d never live down the stigma of being the agent in the bathroom. It was already all over the office and nearly everyone had
commented on it.

But this could change all that. She could get back in good standing. Make her dad proud. Finally do something that would end this and bring the Chloroform Killer to justice.

Caisey sucked in a breath and said, “I have an idea.”

CAISEY LYONS LIVED someone else’s life for three days before she got abducted. In the early hours she heard his footsteps in the hall. Her eyes flew open, but she didn’t move. The temperature in the room cut through the blanket and the thin white nightgown that belonged to a stranger. Three days of walking around someone else’s house, passing the time until he would come.

The bedroom door eased open.

Caisey kept her eyes shut and prayed the darkness would hide the fact she was awake. She wrestled away the revulsion with deep breaths and fought for calm. No one else on the FBI task force fit the victim’s description. Now instead of a badge and gun, she had a tracking device injected below the skin and a team of agents on stand-by. She wished she could struggle, give him a taste of his own violence. But that wasn’t the plan. His death would find justice for each of the victims, all the more significant since this case had touched Caisey and her partner Liam’s lives personally. This was for Andrea’s sister.

All Caisey had to do was stay alive.

Soft footsteps crossed the carpet to her. A shell jacket rustled and a sickly-sweet smell filled the air. Caisey knew it was coming before the cloth was placed over her nose. The ice cold liquid touched her face and she sucked in a breath that smelled and tasted…wrong. One hand closed over her mouth and nose and another wrapped around the back of her head.

It was like being shut in a tomb.

Caisey squirmed to get a grip on him. Her hands and arms went from tingly to numb and something broke inside her. A rushing sound filled her ears. Would she end up laid out on a metal table for the Medical Examiner? What if the signal malfunctioned? What if the agents watching didn’t see him take her out of the apartment?

She tried to breathe…but there was only darkness.

**

Three days earlier

Caisey stared at the closet, trying to decide what to pack.

“What are you doing in my room?”

She spun from the business-wear to her best friend and tried not to look pathetic. “I need to borrow something.”

Jenna strode over, her gray pencil skirt and sling-backs contrasting with the pink ends of her blond hair. “You mean more stylish? Or just not
your usual jeans and boots, and boots and jeans, and more jeans?”

If only the worst thing about this assignment was that she’d have to wear uncomfortable clothes. Caisey pointed to a pair of silver heels with tiny straps. “Can’t chase a
perp down in those things, I’d break my ankle.”

Jenna laughed. “You’d break your ankle walking
downstairs in them. Just like—”

“Yeah, yeah.”
Caisey sighed, remembering the disaster that was Prom.

“What is this assignment anyway?”

“I have to—” get kidnapped. “Pretend to be someone.”

“Someone classy?”

Caisey slung her arm around Jenna’s shoulder with every intention of getting her back for that comment, but it turned into a side hug. She left her arm there, soaking in the comfort of decades of friendship that felt more like family than much of the family either of them ever had.

Her temples
throbbed a rhumba beat and she closed her hands into fists to keep from massaging them.

Jenna frowned. “This is about that serial killer, isn’t it?”

Caisey smiled and shook her head. “Why couldn’t you be just another dumb blonde?”

“You mean an idiot who wouldn’t be smart enough to worry about you?”

Something like that. “Call Liam if you have any problems while I’m gone, okay? I’ll be out of contact.”

Jenna swished hangers to the side. “Switch your usual black or gray fitted t-shirt for a light blue blouse. Black slacks because you don’t want to be uncomfortable in a skirt. Also, you don’t want anything tight in case you have to kick someone.”

“Right.” Caisey grabbed the bundle. “Thanks Jenna.”

“Yup.”

There was something in the tone that made Caisey turn back with her armful of clothes. “Spill it.”

Jenna made a frustrated noise. “I can’t keep anything from you.”

“Quit stalling and tell me.”

Jenna rolled her eyes. Her blonde bangs lay perfectly across her forehead. Caisey had grown hers out because she couldn’t figure out how to get them to do that. “Don’t be mad. I did it for your own good.”

“What did you—?”

Jenna’s face had guilt written all over it. “I may have…sort of…signed you up for a dating service.”

“What?”

“Just think about it while you’re gone, and maybe check out your profile. I said good things about you, made you sound like a catch.” She held out both hands.
“Which you totally are.”

“Jenna—” Caisey drew the word out, her jaw tight.

“You should at least try it out. I mean, when was the last time you went on a date?”

Caisey smiled sweetly. “When was the last time you went on a date?”

“I date. I also have a teenage son. The two don’t exactly mix.”

“Ha. Like the right guy is going to care. Jake is great.”

“I know.” Jenna shot her a look. “But you have no excuse whatsoever. Nothing but a memory.”

“Hey—”

Jenna clutched Caisey’s elbows. “I just don’t want you to waste your life on that one perfect guy. Your one perfect date before he disappeared forever. Jerk.”

She had tried to get past it, to feel those sparks with someone—anyone—else but it never happened. All these years and no one had ever measured up to that date where dinner turned into a walk and the walk turned into talking all night about nothing and everything.
Laughing together. That one great kiss.

And then nada.
Not even a phone call.

Jenna’s eyes softened. “It’s time we both moved on to bigger and better things. Let the past be the past. Please. Let him go.”

Caisey slung her arm around Jenna’s neck and kissed her temple, then walked the length of the upstairs hall to her bedroom. She didn’t want to be a source of pity for her friend, which meant that as much as she might not like the idea, she’d have to look into this dating site when she got back.

Caisey got dressed and stuffed a change of clothes into her gym bag. She left the bag by the front door and walked through the living room to the hall off the kitchen.

Grams sat in her armchair with a tray across her lap. “The answer is Canberra, you imbecile!”

The chair enveloped her small frame. Her plate had only crumbs and a blob of yolk from the soft boiled egg and toast she had every morning. Caisey picked up the tray and went into Grams’ tiny kitchen.

Grams’ aide was elbow-deep in soapy water, and gave her a smile. “Morning.”

“Morning, Sara.” Caisey slipped the plate and silverware into the water.

She went back to Grams and sat on the end of the loveseat. “Hi.”

Grams’ wrinkled lips twitched. “Good morning.”

“I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. If you need anything, any of you, you can call Liam. You have his number, right?”

Grams lifted the china cup from the end table, looked inside and frowned. “Why is it always gone when you want a bit more?”

Caisey rose and took it from her. “I think I have time for a cup of tea before I go. You?”

“I’d love one.” Grams looked up, a smile in her eyes. “Only, don’t skimp on the sugar
like you did last time, hmm?”

**

Present

Caisey woke up to a dark space that wasn’t much wider than her elbows. She kicked up her legs and hit the roof about a foot above where she lay. It was taller than a coffin, which was something at least. But it wouldn’t open, no matter how hard she kicked and shoved.

What else could it be?

The whole thing was moving, like she was in the back of a vehicle driving who-knew- where. Stashed in a deep freezer or some other airtight container where he could probably hear her thrashing around. Which begged the question, did he know about the tracking device?

Caisey prayed the team would find her soon, because it was getting hard to breathe.

**

Three days ago

Caisey climbed in Special Agent Liam Conner’s SUV and slammed the door against the February air. The inside was immaculate, as usual, and it stank like he’d polished the dash. Again.

Her partner huffed out a sigh, but not so big that it mussed his perfect hair. “I don’t like
this.”

Caisey pulled out her BlackBerry and read the text from her boss. Did Liam think she was going to change her mind? “Brenda already called in sick. She’s ready to make the switch.”

“Are you listening?” Liam pulled the car away from the curb in front of her house.

Caisey looked back at the two-story house. The siding needed to be painted. Her dad’s old Chevy truck was parked on the gravel beside the driveway, ready for when they decided Jake was allowed to drive. Most of her life had happened in this house, except those first few years with her mom before her dad brought her back to Denver. Then there was her time in Quantico, and four years spent at the FBI office in Salt Lake which consisted of traipsing around Idaho and Montana, up to the top of her boots in mountain man
extremists. At least they let her wear her jeans so she blended in. She’d just ignored the license plates and pretended it was Colorado.

“I said—”

Caisey turned to her partner. “I heard you.”

“I know you want to do this, I just don’t like the idea of you being abducted. Like, at
all.”

I’ve done it before.

The words were on the tip of her tongue to say. She’d have told him why she was uniquely qualified to get kidnapped, but if she’d done that there was no way he would let her go. Now she would have another stash of memories to add to the archived file in her brain. That was how the shrink told her to think about it. As an inaccessible store of memories that were closed off from her everyday experience. Otherwise they could jump up at any moment.

But all that was need-to-know, so Caisey crossed her arms and for the first time in her life kept a secret from her partner.

She didn’t need to mention the victims to him. They both knew each of them by name, and the last murder was the younger sister of Liam’s girlfriend. “I’m not going to let her death mean nothing.”

“We could have found someone else to pose as a potential victim. I don’t like that it has to be you.”

Caisey looked at him and his neat blonde hair, Ivy League silk tie and polished black shoes. Liam had found Andrea, he was happy and in that first blush of new love—just in a totally manly kind of way that didn’t involve roses and candlelight. Knowing Liam it was probably the opera, or some crap like that.

Caisey was more of a rodeo type of girl.

Then there was his newfound faith. Caisey hadn’t been part of his conversion, which grated her. Wasn’t she supposed to be a bold witness for Christ? Now Liam was all fired up and praying about everything. When was the last time her faith had been exciting?

God, help me keep them safe.

Part of her wished for a cozy life of her own, but that wasn’t real. Safety was an illusion, a wishful thought that brought easy smiles and peaceful childhood dreams. She knew what was real.

Liam drove up to the rear of the apartment building where Brenda Peterson lived. He put the SUV in park and turned to her. “You’ll be careful?”

Caisey rolled her eyes. “Seriously?”

“Just say it.”

She held up her hand to swear her oath. “I will be totally careful while I’m being abducted by a serial killer.”

“Thank you. How’s your leg?”

She rubbed her thigh where the sub-dermal tracker had been injected. “Just don’t press any buttons on the computer and accidentally delete the transmitter’s signal, okay? I need you to be able to find me.”

“I would not—”

“You are the single most technologically accident prone person I’ve ever met. Why do you think you manage to get your phone stuck on Spanish at least once a month?”

His eyes narrowed. “I thought it was Jake messing with me.”

It was Jenna’s son, but Caisey wasn’t going to tell him that. She put her BlackBerry in the glove box, pulled out her sidearm, unloaded it and put it with her phone. She added her badge ID to the immaculate storage space. Yeesh, there was even a dryer sheet in there.

“And your backup weapon?”

Caisey blanked her face. “What backup?”

“Please.” He motioned with his fingers. “Hand it over.”

She pouted and pulled at the Velcro securing the small caliber weapon to her leg. She slapped it in his palm. “Satisfied?”

“It’s not like you can shoot him.”