WATCHING (6 page)

**
*

Hell fought the sick feeling in his gut as he digested what he
’
d learned. He had seen so many crime scene photos with young victims, had spoken with so many sexual assault victims, that his mind immediately could transpose Georgia
’
s face on any one of the victims
’
. It made sense to him now: the way she avoided being touched even casually by the men she worked with, the obsessive control she exhibited over her emotions during cases, her father
’
s over-protectiveness, her avoidance of contact with victims.

She came through the door, her face pale but determined. Hell started, jerking.

She straightened and her dark eyes held a wary challenge.
“
Hear anything that interests you, Agent Hellbrook,
sir
?
”

“
Nothing that you have to tell me about
.
”
He only hoped his voice didn
’
t come out as strangled as he felt.

Chapter
6

****

She
’
d survived the breakfast and briefing, survived the victim interview and the rest of the afternoon back at the scene where they
’
d found Katherine Montehue. She
’
d even survived partnering Hellbrook this far. What she might
not
survive was an evening at the Turn Around Bar.

The Turn Around was a knock off, downtrodden copy of one of Georgia
’
s favorite hang-outs in St. Louis.
Smokey
’
s
was a fun, welcoming, after-shift hang-out for local law enforcement and feds; the Turn Around catered to a different set. Most of the clientele familiar with law enforcement got that familiarity through being on the wrong end of the handcuffs. A pale sheen of neglect painted the structure, both inside and out. But in this rural area, if you wanted to go out and have a few drinks
—
the Turn Around was the only affordable option.

Cigarette smoke rolled so thickly Georgia
’
s throat clenched and she coughed. Her companion
—
dressed ultra-casual
ly for Hellbrook in jeans, pull
over and leather bomber jacket that he used to hide his Sig Saur
—
leaned down to look at her.

“
You ok
?
”
he asked. As if he cared. They
’
d decided to play it casually. To appear as any other couple out for
after work
drinks.

“
Yes. If you count not
breathing as ok
.
”
She readjusted the denim jacket she
’
d borrowed from K.D. for the evening, making sure it covered the holster on her waist.
The jacket was too long
so she figured it did the trick.

“
I know what you mean. Think we can find a clean table
?
”
He stepped closer, his large hand hot on her lower back as he led the way to a table near the center of the Turn Around
’
s main level. Hellbrook smelled good and clean
—
a direct contrast to the rest of the Turn Around
—
and Georgia fought the absurd desire to move even closer. It took ten minutes for their server to approach them.

“
What can I get for you folks
?
”
The waitress
’
s words held a suspicion they
’
d expected. In this area, strangers most likely stood out and Georgia wasn
’
t immune to the mistrust or speculation on the middle-aged woman
’
s face.

“
Water. Bottled, preferably
,
”
Georgia said.

“
We have tap. That good enough for you, sweetie
?
”
Georgia could swear she heard the woman snort.

“
Do you have canned soda
?
”
Georgia ignored Hellbrook
’
s smirk. No doubt
he
’
d
spent his fair share of time in places like the Turn Around.

“
Cola, diet, or lemon lime,
”
the waitress said.
“
What will it be
?
”

“
I
’
ll take a cola and a glass of ice. Better make it two colas. Thank you
.
”
Hellbrook ordered a beer and some nachos. He wouldn
’
t drink the beer
—
the reason behind Georgia
’
s second cola request
—
but because they were in a bar, it was expected one of them would order alcohol.

She waited until the woman had left before turning to Hellbrook. He dwarfed the booth he sat in, the table edge resting against his chest. She scooted the table more in her direction
—
she had plenty of room in the overly large booth
—
and her damned feet didn
’
t even touch the floor.
“
Small, crowded
.
”

“
Yes. And that is good for us. Ups the chance someone saw something that will be helpful
.
”
He ran his long fingers over the scars marring the worn wood tabletop.

“
True. Let
’
s work it out
.
”
She rearranged the tattered Miller Lite sign so that it hid the overflowing ashtray. Disgusting.
“
What did Katherine do first
?
”

“
Restroom
.
”

They both looked around until they found the flashing lights that pointed the way. Georgia considered.
“
Speaking of which...I
’
ll be back...
Michael
.
”

“
Be careful
.
”

“
Always am when in a restroom, you never know what could happen
.
”

That felt weird, she thought, as she wove through the tables toward her destination. She
’
d never thought of Hellbrook as a
Michael
before. She
’
d never heard anyone call him anything other than Hellbrook or Hell in the entirety of their acquaintance. But for tonight, he
’
d thought it would be a good idea to play it as a date, and Hell and Hellbrook
—
didn
’
t exactly shout
date
to anyone who
’
d overhear them.
She wondered briefly if he instructed all his dates to call him Michael?

**
*

She drew men
’
s interest wherever she went. Hellbrook wasn
’
t blind to that. He watched the men around her as she walked through the crowd, looking for any who seemed too interested in the petite brown-eyed brunette.

He had never been more aware that she fit the victimology than he was right then.

She turned down the hall toward the restroom as a blonde woman stepped up to his table.
“
Hello. I
’
m Jenna
.
”

“
Hello, Jenna
.
”
Hell
’
s attention shifted quickly as the name sparked recognition.

“
That your girlfriend
?
”
She moved closer, angling her body beside his booth seat, she gripped the back of the seat, leaned forward enticingly.

Her chest was nice, he decided, but Georgia
’
s was nicer. And less augmented.
“
I
’
m Michael Hellbrook. A friend of Katherine Montehue
’
s
—
do you know her
?
”

“
Yes
.
”
Jenna
’
s eyes darted away, her mouth thinned. Hell interpreted the look to mean she was feeling guilty, and the reminder of her friend made her question what she was doing. Good, this
woman
was old enough to know not to approach strange men in bars.

What had happened to her friend should have served as a lesson to her.

Apparently it hadn
’
t.
“
So is that woman your girlfriend? You two don
’
t look like you
’
re together
.
”

“
Oh, we
’
re together. In a way
.
”
Hell reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He flipped it open quickly, flashing the Bureau ID and badge.
“
She
’
s my partner. We
’
d like to ask you a few questions. Please
.
”

He kept the questioning low key.
“
So on the night Katherine was attacked, you and she were left here alone, correct? Tell me what happened
.
”

***

Five disgusting minutes later Georgia closed the door behind her. She spotted the brassy blonde occupying her seat from clear across the bar. It wasn
’
t hard to miss the way the blonde tilted her head to one side, the way she leaned over the table in an over-the-top, look-down-my-top manner.

Georgia resisted the urge to snicker. The blonde did an obvious job of showing Hellbrook the goods up for grabs; the ploy almost pathetic in a way. Georgia
’
s lips twitched again at the resigned look on her partner
’
s face. This wasn
’
t the first woman she
’
d seen drawn to Hellbrook
’
s leonine good looks. The copper hair was eye-catching enough, add in the tall linebacker build, the dark blue eyes, and the hunter-look he wore effortlessly, and he drew many female eyes. The blonde wasn
’
t even the first she
’
d seen give him a sneak pe
e
k. That was one reason she suspected he took K.D. with him on interviews—after all, what woman could really expect to compete with the gorgeous, intelligent, genuinely sweet K.D.?

She was so focused on the
blonde
and Hellbrook
’
s reaction, purely for curiosity
’
s sake, that she didn
’
t see the male hand reaching for her until it was too late to avoid it. She found herself pulled onto the lap of a thin, slightly disheveled man who smelled of onion rings, saw dust, cigarette smoke, and cheap beer. And mint chewing gum.

He grinned at her. It wasn
’
t a bad grin, but it wasn
’
t anything remarkable, either.
“
Hey, little darlin
’
. Wanna dance? I
’
m Ernie and you
’
re cute. I love little women!
”

She doubted he meant the novel.
“
No thanks, Ernie. While I appreciate the offer, I
’
m with someone tonight
.
”
She pointed a hand in Hellbrook
’
s direction. He was still focused on the blonde and hadn
’
t noticed Georgia
’
s situation.

“
He doesn
’
t seem to care. Why else would he be with Jenna? She
’
s been with everybody. Even girls
.
”
Ernie nodded...earnestly.
“
Come on, sweetie. Dance with me
.
”

Georgia had little trouble extraditing herself from Ernie
’
s loose grip. He wasn
’
t a large man. She fought the urge to laugh at the pouting expression that hit his face.
“
I
’
m not that kind of girl, Ernie. I don
’
t go to a bar with one man and dance with another
.
”

“
You sure? I
’
ve been told I dance real good
.
”