Page 3
Story: Deep as the Dead
Water streamed off the edge of the canvas and Ethan rose, giving a shake to dislodge the steady cascade running down the back of his neck. The woman withdrew to huddle under the far corner of the canopy as she made thecall.
“If this is our guy, it’s only been eight days since the last victim in New Brunswick.” Nyle had resurrected a tissue from somewhere and was wiping ineffectually at the mud on his slicker as he spoke. “He’s never moved this fast before. When’s Gagnon coming through with the extraassistance?”
“Hopefully soon.” The new commissioner had made plenty of promises two weeks ago when it had become clear that the most notorious serial killer in the country was active again after a three-year hiatus. Ethan was hoping the commissioner moved swiftly. He could use a larger task force in the field and more resources. What form of aid he’d get, however, remained amystery.
He continued studying the body. Almost imagined he saw movement behind the mouth, the slightest flutter. His gut clenched, and he found himself hoping that Nyle was right, and the perpetrator had merely borrowed a sensational detail from their case. Because otherwise it meant the offender they sought was escalating rapidly. Which made it impossible to predict how soon he’d strikeagain.
* * *
The nextday
Ethan staredout the window of the terminal at the Halifax Stanfield International Airport, mentally willing the passengers to disembark from the plane more quickly. Puddles punctuated the pavement. The rain continued intermittently and the ground was saturated. Even when there was a pause in the precipitation the air was a sticky, sweaty fist ofhumidity.
The itinerary Dr. Hayden had sent them included a layover in Philly, turning the trip from DC into a four-and-a-half-hour flight. He glanced at his watch again. The autopsy had been scheduled for a half hour ago. He’d tried his best to get the ME to reschedule it, but hadn’t been able to sway the man. The recent victim had been wedged into the autopsy schedule as it was. Hopefully they’d get there in time for a verbal summary of the ME’s findings. If, that was, the passengers were ever allowed off theaircraft.
It took effort to tamp down the frustration that threatened to surge. Gagnon had made good on his promise, but his idea of assistance differed greatly from what Ethan had had in mind. Instead of more resources and manpower, he’d gotten anoutside consultant. A forensic profiler with a highly specialized scientific expertise that was likely to have minimal impact on their case. He couldn’t have imagined a worse scenario if he’dtried.
“Talked to that buddy of mine from British Columbia that I told you about last night. The one who worked the Dr. Death case last year.” Nyle took a piece of gum out of his trouser pocket and thumbed the wrapper off before popping the gum into his mouth, and wadding the paper in his fingers. “Gagnon brought in an outside consultant from the States that time, too, and from the same agency as this one. Raiker Forensics. But they’re better knownas—”
“The Mindhunters,” Ethan finished tersely. “I’m aware.” The issue he had with Gagnon’s decision had nothing to do with the reputation of the agency the consultant came from. The agency’s owner, Adam Raiker, was an ex-FBI profiler in the States who’d garnered near legendary status before he’d been captured and then escaped from the child killer he’d been trailing. The man had spent the last several years amassing a formidable group of experts in forensic specialties, and his private labs were said to be the best equipped in North America. Services with his company likely didn’t come cheap. Ethan wondered how much this consultant was costing the Force, and tried not to think about what sort of resources they could have added to the investigation for thatprice.
Seeming oblivious to his mood, Nyle continued. “My friend said the consultant was instrumental to them solving the thing. He was a doctor, used to be an ME before going to work for the Mindhunters.” There was more, but Ethan had stopped listening. He and Nyle had worked together before, and normally he overlooked the genial man’s penchant for chattiness because he was a damn fine investigator. Right now, though, Samuels’s words drifted by him as he shifted his attention from the plane to the trickle of passengers filing through the gate. Maybe he should catch a cab and head to the morgue himself. Conrad, the medical examiner, wasn’t the type to wait around. Samuels could grab a cab and follow later,with—
“Think that’sher?”
Ethan’s gaze arrowed to the woman who’d paused to speak to an airline attendant at the counter before heading theirway.
A second ticked by. Two. Recognition flickered, followed by disbelief. It couldn’t be. There was noway.
Then a mule kick of certainty hit him squarely in the chest. He didn’t know how the hell it was possible, but there was no mistaking that Nordic blond hair, pulled back now in a businesslike twist at the base of her neck. As she drew closer he could see the contrast of those turquoise eyes against a creamy complexion that was no longer dusted with the freckles he used to count with the tip of hisfinger.
Dr. Alexa Hayden, their outside consultant. Shock held him frozen in place. Nyle headed toward the woman Ethan had once known as Alexa Grace Sellers Manning. Although he sincerely doubted that she’d kept his name for long after she’d left. A deluge of suppressed memories surged, threatening to swamp him. He battled them back, aided in part by the realization that there was no surprise mirrored in her expression. She’d known exactly who she’d be workingwith.
He was the one who’d walked into an emotionalambush.
The knowledge had the paralysis in his limbs dissipating and he caught up with Nyle. “Dr. Hayden?” At her nod, Nyle extended a hand. “RCMP officers Samuels and Manning. Welcome to NovaScotia.”
“Welcomeback.”Because he wasn’t sure it was a good idea at the moment to touch her, Ethan tucked his hands in his jacket pockets. “Dr. Hayden lived here for awhile.”
Nyle’s head swiveled from Alexa to Ethan. “You two know eachother?”
“I lived in a Truro for a time when I was growing up.” Her steady gaze revealed nothing as she surveyed him. “Ethan. You lookwell.”
And she looked… His fingers curled. Polished. Professional. As far removed as possible from the scared vulnerable teenager who’d once owned his heart. Before leaving it—and him—empty andaching.
“Been a long time.” The observation served as a warning to himself. He barely remembered the impulsive teenager he’d once been, ruled by hormones and quixotic ideals. And in this woman, he saw no trace of the skittish too-serious girl who’d once looked at him with forever in hereyes.
That was a lifetime ago. The two of them were ancient history. The bodies piling up in the case were the present. With an ease born of long practice, he shoved the memories aside. Deliberately, he turned. Skirting the roped areas directing lines, he headed toward the front of the Customs area. “We’ll expedite Customs and then head for the car. I’ve already arranged to have your luggage sent to the motel. If we hurry, we’ll make part of the autopsy for our most recentvictim.”
And that postmortem had to be a helluva lot more compelling than conducting yet another on he and Lexie’s spectacularly failedmarriage.
* * *
As they troopedinto the autopsy suite, Dr. Isaac Conrad briefly looked up from his subject lying on the stainless-steel table before pointedly glancing from them to the clock on the wall. His fingers didn’t falter in their task of closing the Y cut on the corpse’s chest, using thread not unlike that still intact on its lips. “You’re just in time.” There was a female technician standing silently next to him, camera inhand.
Alexa left her laptop case by the door and trailed the two Mounties into the room. They’d all donned shoe covers, gowns and gloves, the garb accentuating the slightly alien feeling she’d had ever since the plane landed. Ethan had warned them that Conrad had a reputation for being a stickler about his domain, as well as being meticulous about hisjob.
Ethan. Her stomach clutched as he led them to ring the table and made introductions. The man she’d thought she’d never see again. She’d had since last night to deal with the shock of realizing that their paths were about to cross, despite all the odds against it. Different countries and professions should have insulated her from the possibility. Yet here she was. And from the forbidding expression on his face when he’d recognized her, he shared herdismay.
“If this is our guy, it’s only been eight days since the last victim in New Brunswick.” Nyle had resurrected a tissue from somewhere and was wiping ineffectually at the mud on his slicker as he spoke. “He’s never moved this fast before. When’s Gagnon coming through with the extraassistance?”
“Hopefully soon.” The new commissioner had made plenty of promises two weeks ago when it had become clear that the most notorious serial killer in the country was active again after a three-year hiatus. Ethan was hoping the commissioner moved swiftly. He could use a larger task force in the field and more resources. What form of aid he’d get, however, remained amystery.
He continued studying the body. Almost imagined he saw movement behind the mouth, the slightest flutter. His gut clenched, and he found himself hoping that Nyle was right, and the perpetrator had merely borrowed a sensational detail from their case. Because otherwise it meant the offender they sought was escalating rapidly. Which made it impossible to predict how soon he’d strikeagain.
* * *
The nextday
Ethan staredout the window of the terminal at the Halifax Stanfield International Airport, mentally willing the passengers to disembark from the plane more quickly. Puddles punctuated the pavement. The rain continued intermittently and the ground was saturated. Even when there was a pause in the precipitation the air was a sticky, sweaty fist ofhumidity.
The itinerary Dr. Hayden had sent them included a layover in Philly, turning the trip from DC into a four-and-a-half-hour flight. He glanced at his watch again. The autopsy had been scheduled for a half hour ago. He’d tried his best to get the ME to reschedule it, but hadn’t been able to sway the man. The recent victim had been wedged into the autopsy schedule as it was. Hopefully they’d get there in time for a verbal summary of the ME’s findings. If, that was, the passengers were ever allowed off theaircraft.
It took effort to tamp down the frustration that threatened to surge. Gagnon had made good on his promise, but his idea of assistance differed greatly from what Ethan had had in mind. Instead of more resources and manpower, he’d gotten anoutside consultant. A forensic profiler with a highly specialized scientific expertise that was likely to have minimal impact on their case. He couldn’t have imagined a worse scenario if he’dtried.
“Talked to that buddy of mine from British Columbia that I told you about last night. The one who worked the Dr. Death case last year.” Nyle took a piece of gum out of his trouser pocket and thumbed the wrapper off before popping the gum into his mouth, and wadding the paper in his fingers. “Gagnon brought in an outside consultant from the States that time, too, and from the same agency as this one. Raiker Forensics. But they’re better knownas—”
“The Mindhunters,” Ethan finished tersely. “I’m aware.” The issue he had with Gagnon’s decision had nothing to do with the reputation of the agency the consultant came from. The agency’s owner, Adam Raiker, was an ex-FBI profiler in the States who’d garnered near legendary status before he’d been captured and then escaped from the child killer he’d been trailing. The man had spent the last several years amassing a formidable group of experts in forensic specialties, and his private labs were said to be the best equipped in North America. Services with his company likely didn’t come cheap. Ethan wondered how much this consultant was costing the Force, and tried not to think about what sort of resources they could have added to the investigation for thatprice.
Seeming oblivious to his mood, Nyle continued. “My friend said the consultant was instrumental to them solving the thing. He was a doctor, used to be an ME before going to work for the Mindhunters.” There was more, but Ethan had stopped listening. He and Nyle had worked together before, and normally he overlooked the genial man’s penchant for chattiness because he was a damn fine investigator. Right now, though, Samuels’s words drifted by him as he shifted his attention from the plane to the trickle of passengers filing through the gate. Maybe he should catch a cab and head to the morgue himself. Conrad, the medical examiner, wasn’t the type to wait around. Samuels could grab a cab and follow later,with—
“Think that’sher?”
Ethan’s gaze arrowed to the woman who’d paused to speak to an airline attendant at the counter before heading theirway.
A second ticked by. Two. Recognition flickered, followed by disbelief. It couldn’t be. There was noway.
Then a mule kick of certainty hit him squarely in the chest. He didn’t know how the hell it was possible, but there was no mistaking that Nordic blond hair, pulled back now in a businesslike twist at the base of her neck. As she drew closer he could see the contrast of those turquoise eyes against a creamy complexion that was no longer dusted with the freckles he used to count with the tip of hisfinger.
Dr. Alexa Hayden, their outside consultant. Shock held him frozen in place. Nyle headed toward the woman Ethan had once known as Alexa Grace Sellers Manning. Although he sincerely doubted that she’d kept his name for long after she’d left. A deluge of suppressed memories surged, threatening to swamp him. He battled them back, aided in part by the realization that there was no surprise mirrored in her expression. She’d known exactly who she’d be workingwith.
He was the one who’d walked into an emotionalambush.
The knowledge had the paralysis in his limbs dissipating and he caught up with Nyle. “Dr. Hayden?” At her nod, Nyle extended a hand. “RCMP officers Samuels and Manning. Welcome to NovaScotia.”
“Welcomeback.”Because he wasn’t sure it was a good idea at the moment to touch her, Ethan tucked his hands in his jacket pockets. “Dr. Hayden lived here for awhile.”
Nyle’s head swiveled from Alexa to Ethan. “You two know eachother?”
“I lived in a Truro for a time when I was growing up.” Her steady gaze revealed nothing as she surveyed him. “Ethan. You lookwell.”
And she looked… His fingers curled. Polished. Professional. As far removed as possible from the scared vulnerable teenager who’d once owned his heart. Before leaving it—and him—empty andaching.
“Been a long time.” The observation served as a warning to himself. He barely remembered the impulsive teenager he’d once been, ruled by hormones and quixotic ideals. And in this woman, he saw no trace of the skittish too-serious girl who’d once looked at him with forever in hereyes.
That was a lifetime ago. The two of them were ancient history. The bodies piling up in the case were the present. With an ease born of long practice, he shoved the memories aside. Deliberately, he turned. Skirting the roped areas directing lines, he headed toward the front of the Customs area. “We’ll expedite Customs and then head for the car. I’ve already arranged to have your luggage sent to the motel. If we hurry, we’ll make part of the autopsy for our most recentvictim.”
And that postmortem had to be a helluva lot more compelling than conducting yet another on he and Lexie’s spectacularly failedmarriage.
* * *
As they troopedinto the autopsy suite, Dr. Isaac Conrad briefly looked up from his subject lying on the stainless-steel table before pointedly glancing from them to the clock on the wall. His fingers didn’t falter in their task of closing the Y cut on the corpse’s chest, using thread not unlike that still intact on its lips. “You’re just in time.” There was a female technician standing silently next to him, camera inhand.
Alexa left her laptop case by the door and trailed the two Mounties into the room. They’d all donned shoe covers, gowns and gloves, the garb accentuating the slightly alien feeling she’d had ever since the plane landed. Ethan had warned them that Conrad had a reputation for being a stickler about his domain, as well as being meticulous about hisjob.
Ethan. Her stomach clutched as he led them to ring the table and made introductions. The man she’d thought she’d never see again. She’d had since last night to deal with the shock of realizing that their paths were about to cross, despite all the odds against it. Different countries and professions should have insulated her from the possibility. Yet here she was. And from the forbidding expression on his face when he’d recognized her, he shared herdismay.
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