Page 12

Chapter 12

When the alarm blasted through Nick’s sleep, he rolled to his back and opened his eyes. For a moment, the strange room and furniture disoriented him until he remembered he was in a suite with Special Agent Brenna Jensen, and they’d had the most incredible?—

He sat up straight. The sheets beside him were tangled but empty. Brenna was nowhere to be seen. Tossing the bedclothes aside, he pulled on his boxers and raced through the door. “Brenna?”

Fully dressed, her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, Brenna turned from her seat in front of the laptop. “Yes, Agent Tarver?”

He stopped in mid-stride, his heart slamming against his chest. “You weren’t there. I thought you’d?—”

“Gone?” She smiled, although the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m checking online news articles, trying to see if we missed something.”

“How long have you been up?”

“Does it matter?”

So, this was the way she wanted it? Brenna would pull back into her shell and pretend last night hadn't happened.

Nick knew better. Hell, yeah, he knew better. "Brenna?—"

"I called the station. The autopsy report is complete on Dr. Drummond. I'd like to take a look at what they found as soon as possible." The glance she shot his way was as emotionless as a stump. However, the added color in her cheeks gave her away.

"You can duck the issue this time, but we will talk," Nick said.

The red flags in her cheeks faded to white, and her eyes widened. "What do we have to talk about?" She turned back to the computer.

"You are not going to shut me out."

"Last night...” She pressed a hand to her mouth. “Well...we shouldn’t have. It was a mistake."

Nick grabbed her arms and turned her around, chair and all. He placed one hand on each wooden armrest and leaned over her until his nose was within inches of hers. "Not for me."

Brenna stared down at her hands. "I'm sorry if you feel that way."

"Brenna, look at me and tell me to my face that last night didn’t mean anything to you."

Her head remained tilted down, but her hands trembled in her lap.

With the tips of his fingers, he tilted Brenna's chin up. "Tell me."

"I—" Tears welled in her eyes.

A cell phone rang, vibrating the tabletop beside the computer. Brenna grabbed for it, blinking several times before she tapped the screen.

Nick swore under his breath and backed away.

“Agent Jensen,” she said, her voice cracking on the first word. As she listened, she sat up straighter. “Thanks, Sergeant Putnam. We’ll be in right away.” Brenna stood and straightened the hem of her black turtleneck sweater. “They’ve received the autopsy report at the station. I’m going in.”

Nick stared at her, his eyes narrowed. If she wanted to withdraw, so be it. Maybe he needed time to cool down and think about what had happened before he tried to shake a reaction out of her, anyway. “You’re not going without me.”

Her chin tilted upward, an obstinate frown denting her brow. “And why not? It’s daylight. The bogeyman won’t try anything in broad daylight.”

“We don’t know that, and bogeyman or not, if you remember, your car is still in the station parking lot.” He had to repress a satisfied smile as Brenna’s face fell.

At the very least, he would have her with him until they reached the station. And if he had any say, which he did as team lead, she would be by his side at all times. “I’ll be ready in five. Don’t go anywhere.” He spun toward his room and before he shut the door, he turned back to her. “That’s an order.”

Brenna maintained her silence all the way to the station, refusing to talk about anything. Especially last night. What was there to talk about? She’d experienced the most incredible sex ever. But, in the light of day, she knew nothing could come of it. They were two people caught up in the adrenaline rush of a case. When they captured the killer, they’d go their separate ways—Nick back to Virginia and Brenna on to Minneapolis, with any luck.

Despite her attempt to be nonchalant about a one-night stand, Brenna couldn’t stop feeling as gray as the overcast sky.

Paul met them at the door to the war room. “Look at this.” He shoved Dr. Drummond’s autopsy report in Nick’s face.

Brenna leaned over Nick’s shoulder to read it.

“Death by strangulation. The coroner believes the cable used to bind her hands and feet was the same kind used to strangle her,” Paul said, before Nick or Brenna could read down to that part.

“What kind of cable?” Nick asked.

“Ethernet cable,” Paul responded.

Brenna cringed, imagining how painful it must have been to be strangled by such a thin wire. “Was it hers?”

“I have a man swinging by the doctor’s place to check.” Paul paced across the room and back. “I don’t know that it makes a difference.”

“What about the Conlin kid?” Nick looked up from the report. “Anything on him?”

“Melissa and I did some asking around. You might find this interesting in light of the cable evidence; he was a computer lab tech at the same college with Dr. Gomez. Robin Rutledge also goes to that same college. We staked out his place, but he didn’t come out all night.”

“I take it you two didn’t get much sleep.”

“Only in shifts while we waited for something to happen,” Melissa said from her position at the computer. “How about you two? Victor Greeley pan out?”

Nick didn’t answer, so Brenna spoke up. “Not really. He had a rendezvous with his latest mistress.”

“He’s married, isn’t he?” Paul asked.

“Yeah.” Nick’s lips pressed together.

“Scumbag,” Melissa muttered.

“So, you guys got about as much sleep as we did.” Paul yawned. “Very little.”

Brenna’s face warmed all the way to the tips of her ears. “I’m going for coffee.” She spun on her heel and marched away before anyone could read into her red face something she’d rather not get around.

As she left the war room, she could hear Paul ask Nick, “Did I say something wrong?”

Brenna didn’t wait to hear his response, mentally kicking herself all the way down the hall to the coffee maker. How could she allow herself to react in front of the rest of the team? Would they read into her dash out of the room, put two and two together and conclude that she and Nick had made love?

How mortifying if they did. They were professional FBI agents. How would it look for one of their own to make it with a local? How would she look as the local who made it with the big bad FBI team lead?

Brenna stood before the coffee machine, her hand shaking so badly she couldn’t pour a cup.

“Excuse me.”

The voice behind her made her jump, and she turned wide-eyed toward the one person she didn’t want to talk to—Nick Tarver.

“If you want coffee, you have to pour it into a cup.” Nick gave her a lopsided smile and took her trembling hands in his. Warmth flowed from her fingertips to her heart. “Hey, if it helps, we can pretend nothing happened.”

A tear slid from the corner of her eye down her cheek. “If only it hadn’t.”

Nick winced.

“Not that you weren’t...that I didn’t...” She pressed her eyelids together to shut out the hurt look in Nick’s eyes.

He thumbed away the tear then squeezed her hands and let them go. “Come on, Jensen. We have a killer to catch. Are you in or not?”

Brenna squared her shoulders. She had a murder to solve, and she couldn’t allow her own lapse in reason to get in the way. “Hell, yeah. I’m in.”

Nick lifted the carafe, poured coffee into a Styrofoam cup and handed it to her. “Then get going. I want to interview Conlin sometime this morning.”

Cradling the steaming brew in her hands, she sniffed the fragrant aroma, focusing on the coffee instead of the man following her. As she marched back to the war room, she set her poker face firmly in place and prepared to find a killer.

“Mr. Conlin, I’m Special Agent Jensen with the North Dakota Bureau of Criminal Investigation. We have a few questions we’d like to ask.”

Jason Conlin stood in the doorway to his apartment, wearing faded jeans, zipped but not buttoned, and a dingy white T-shirt that looked slept in. His dark brown hair looked like it hadn’t been combed in days. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Conlin frowned. “Why do you want to talk to me?”

The young man had just enough of a whine to his tone that it grated on Nick’s nerves. Here was a guy who’d harassed a young woman to distraction, going so far as to hit her. As far as Nick was concerned, any man who hit a woman was pretty low on the food chain and didn’t deserve any respect.

“FBI Agent Tarver and I are investigating the murder of Janine Drummond and the disappearance of three other women.”

Conlin leaned against the door jam. “What’s that got to do with me?” His eyes widened, and he straightened. “You’re not accusing me, are you?”

Nick had to give Brenna credit for maintaining a calm, professional tone. “No, we aren’t, but we have a few questions for you regarding the case.”

“I didn’t kill no one, and I don’t know nothin’ about them.” Conlin stepped back and tried to close the door.

Before he got the door half closed, Nick placed his foot inside the door. “Mr. Conlin, it would be in your best interest to cooperate with us. If, as you say, you aren’t involved in the murder, your answers might assist us in determining who might be.”

Jason’s eyes narrowed to slits and stared from Brenna to Nick and back to Brenna again. “Don’t I know you?”

Brenna nodded. “I used to be a police officer in Riverton.”

“Yeah, you’re the she-cop that gave me that DUI.” Jason crossed his arms over his chest. “I lost my job at the university over that.”

“Driving Under the Influence is illegal, Mr. Conlin. I was only doing my job.”

Jason’s lip curled into a snarl. “You cost me my job.”

Brenna stood taller, her expression one hundred percent professional. “You’re lucky you didn’t cost someone his life.”

Nick almost smiled as Jason studied Brenna for a moment and then turned to him. “What do you want to know?”

“Let’s start with where you’ve been since last Wednesday night,” Brenna said.

Giving Brenna the side of his face, Jason spoke to Nick, effectively telling Brenna he didn’t want to talk with her.

The only sign of annoyance she betrayed was a slight tightening of her lips. If Nick hadn’t been so familiar with those full, luscious lips, he wouldn’t have seen it.

“I worked Wednesday and Thursday until six, came home and watched television. Friday, I ordered pizza and watched a video by myself.”

“Did you have anyone with you during any of that time? A friend, a girlfriend?” Nick asked.

Jason ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up even more than it already did. “No.” His tone was abrupt.

“Did you leave your apartment Wednesday evening for anything?” Brenna asked.

“I went down to the Valley Dairy convenience store for a six pack around ten or so. I don’t remember exactly.” Jason shot a glare at Brenna. “And no, I didn’t drink and drive.”

“Jason, did you know Dr. Drummond?” Nick asked.

“Yeah. She was the shrink the court ordered me to see.”

“For DUI?” Nick asked, although he already knew it was because of the assault on Robin Rutledge.

“Yeah,” Jason said, his eyes shifting back and forth between Nick and Brenna. “Is that all you want to know, because I have to get ready for work?”

“Not quite,” Brenna said. “You still haven’t told us where you were the rest of the days.”

Jason inhaled and blew out a hard breath. “I don’t believe this. Did you just come to harass me, or what?”

“No.” Nick gave him a hard look. “We only want answers.”

“I worked at The Computer Store Saturday all day, came home and watched a football game on TV the rest of the evening. Sunday, I didn’t do anything but watch sports. It was too damn cold to get out. Monday and Tuesday, I worked, came home, watched TV and went to bed.” Conlin shifted from one foot to the other, and his eyes never made direct contact with either agent.

Nick would have bet his paycheck Conlin was lying or omitting a lot of the truth.

“Is there anyone who can verify you were at work and who would know you were in your apartment during those times?”

“My boss could verify the work. But I was on my own at night. Is this going to be a problem? Are you going to hit me up with murder charges because I don’t have an alibi?”

“Only if you’re guilty, Mr. Conlin.” Brenna raised an eyebrow. “Only if you’re guilty…”

“This is bullshit.” Jason Conlin started to slam the door in their faces.

Nick stepped forward. “Mr. Conlin, have you ever harmed a woman in any way?”

Jason sputtered, and his face turned red. “That’s none of your goddam?—”

Nick raised his hand and stared hard at Jason. “Mr. Conlin, just answer the question.”

“She put you up to this, didn’t she?” Jason jammed his hands into his pocket, a frown wrinkling his forehead.

“Who put us up to what?”

“That bitch, Robin.” He glared at Brenna then Nick. “She sent you here to harass me, didn’t she?”

“We don’t know what you’re talking about.” Brenna’s brows rose, her tone calm and cool. “Maybe you’d care to elaborate?”

“I got nothing more to say. If you want me to answer any more questions, you’ll have to go through my lawyer.” Conlin stepped back and slammed the door with a resounding thud.

Nick rubbed his hands together and took the steps leading down to the pathway. “Where to next?” He stopped and waited for Brenna to precede him off the metal and concrete landing.

“We check in with Robin Rutledge,” she replied, her voice soft, yet firm.

When they reached ground level, he gripped Brenna’s elbow and assisted her over a patch of slushy ice. As soon as she could, she pulled away from his grasp and completed the rest of the short walk to his car on her own.

Nick opened Brenna’s car door. “I think our Mr. Conlin wasn’t telling us everything.” He rounded the car and slid in next to Brenna.

“Me, too.” Brenna clicked her seatbelt in place.

She was too quiet and entirely too rigid for Nick’s liking. His fingers itched to massage the stiffness from her shoulders and smooth the frown from her brow. He shifted the car into drive and jammed his foot onto the accelerator, spinning melting snow out from under the tires. With a soft curse beneath his breath, he let off the gas and eased toward the parking lot exit. How could he stand to be near her and not touch her? All the more reason not to get personal with a team member.

When Nick glanced toward Brenna, a smile twitched at the corner of her mouth.

The little bit of humor made his heart race and, at the same time, made him angry. “What are you laughing about?”

“Nothing.”

“No, really.” He stopped before driving out onto the street and frowned at her. “What are you laughing about?”

She sighed and shook her head. “You. Me. The situation.”

His frown deepened. “You find it humorous?”

With a shrug she said, “In a sad sort of way.”

“I don’t understand.”

“We’re trying so hard to pretend nothing happened last night that we’re only making each other miserable.” Her eyes glistened with moisture.

“I’m not the one trying to pretend,” Nick said softly.

“I know.” She stared out her window, her face half turned away, the smile completely wiped from her face. “I’m sorry.”

“Look, Brenna.” He reached for her hand lying in her lap. “Last night meant something. I don’t know what, but it meant something.” His fingers tightened around hers.

“Thanks,” she said. “It’s just?—”

A horn blared behind them. Being interrupted in the middle of talking with Brenna was becoming a recurring nuisance.

“Damn,” Nick cursed softly. “Promise me we’ll talk later?”

Another honk sounded, and Brenna jumped. “Okay, but you better get moving before the guy behind you decides honking isn’t enough.”

As Nick eased out onto the busy street, hope soared in his heart. At least she’d promised to talk with him about what had happened. Problem was, what would he say? What could he say? They’d only just met, and they were hardly at a point in their relationship to make any lasting commitments.

Nick heaved a sigh. He’d deal with it later, after they talked with Robin Rutledge.