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CHAPTER ELEVEN

E arly morning wind whipped through the canyon just outside of town. Addie braced against it, closed her car door, and buttoned her wool coat. Her badge hung from a chain around her neck. She should’ve brought a beanie. Or gloves.

Addie shoved her hands in her pockets and discovered a wrapped piece of gum. She popped it in and discarded the wrapper in a trash can beside the row of marked police cars. The ME’s van was here. She’d had to park three rows from the trailhead just to find a space.

The guy she now knew as Captain McCauley stood beside the trailhead map waiting for her. “Thanks for coming out.”

She stuck out her hand, and he shook it with his gloved one. “I appreciate being looped in even though it’s only my second day.”

“How’s it going? Being back?”

She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to remember who he was from high school. He seemed like the kind of guy who aged but managed to look the same. Just more refined.

Addie shrugged. “The town has changed a lot. It’s probably double the size it was.”

“Small town people think this is the big city. Big city folks come here for the slower pace of life, but they can still get those conveniences that aren’t in a small town.”

“That’s for sure.” Some places people drove all over for work and groceries. There was no need to drive an hour unless necessary in a town like this. Everything was fifteen minutes away, give or take. Seemed like that anyway.

“Want the rundown?”

“That would be good, thanks.” Addie preferred to know what she was walking into.

That, and the fact she’d been called here in the first place, meant the police department had reason to believe the body that’d been found was connected to the cases she’d been brought here to solve.

Considering Addie didn’t have a crime lab, or fellow agents on hand, the cops were the ones who would work this case. If it proved to be the same suspect as the ones she’d been handed, having federal weight behind the arrest might make a difference.

McCauley kept a steady pace. “Celia Jessop went missing three days ago. Twenty-three, steady boyfriend. He’s a loser, but we checked him out, and he had the flu. Claims they broke up a while back. He was bedridden the last week, so he hasn’t seen her for fifty-two hours at least.”

“Her car?”

“Still looking for it.” McCauley motioned back at the parking lot while the path ascended around the hill. “Wasn’t parked here. No one has found it abandoned around town. There’s a BOLO still out on it.”

“You think this is connected to my cases?”

“You’ll see, but yeah.” McCauley scratched at his chin. “At this point, it’s more of a gut feeling than anything else. None of them have the same MO. No correlations in the victims. No other way to link them or predict who he will strike at next.”

She’d been sure about Zimmerman—namely that she could trust him—and look how that turned out? One dumb mistake. Now he was getting back with his wife, and she got exiled. To advance her career. Supposedly.

The common denominator was the fact she couldn’t trust herself because she was putting her trust where there was no foundation.

She should probably call the Seattle field office and ask for help. Get a team here, so it wouldn’t be so obvious when she faltered.

They rounded the corner, and the scene came into view, taped off. Guarded by an officer and several others. The ME and his assistant. Crime lab, collecting evidence.

Addie laid a hand on his elbow. “I’d love to talk to you more about this. Dig into that gut feeling. It’ll help me work up a profile.”

McCauley nodded. “I’ll pencil you in.”

They approached the tape, and she realized the cop was a familiar face. “Officer Hummet.”

“Special Agent Franklin.” Hummet nodded, all business. “Captain.” He noted their names in his logbook before lifting the tape so she could step under.

“Thank you.” Addie nodded and headed for the victim.

Hank stood over the body, talking with the ME. “Hey, Ad’.”

She lifted a hand but wanted to get a look at the body and not have to wait through an entire conversation before she got her questions answered.

“Our resident FBI agent?” The woman who looked up had red hair. She wore a silk blouse and black slacks under a heavy winter coat. Expecting to see heels, Addie found winter boots on her feet covered with booties to protect the scene from her tread prints.

Addie stepped back so the ME knew she wasn’t about to touch anything and contaminate the evidence any more than she did simply by being here.

She held a hand out. “Adelyn Franklin.”

“Sarah Carlton.” She removed a glove and shook Addie’s hand.

“ME. PhD. More than one, isn’t it?” Hank stuck a thumb in his belt.

The ME looked over at him. “And yet you turned me down.”

Hank said nothing.

The captain jumped into the conversation. “Now the introduction is out of the way, do you have a cause of death?”

The ME shifted in her crouch and worked her mouth back and forth as she considered the question. “There are no signs of drug abuse. There are indications she may have had a cardiac event or been strangled. I’m afraid I can’t pin this one down without a thorough examination.”

“Anything you can tell us about what she went through before she died?” Addie figured if the captain was correct and this guy had her for a couple of days, she might have been held somewhere.

The ME hadn’t even said the word murder yet.

Dr. Carlton tipped her head from one side to the other. “Signs on her wrists and ankles that she was bound. Looks to me like chains, but I’ll confirm that and the state of her treatment.” She glanced at Addie, who read her gaze.

Both wanted to know if the girl had been raped.

Addie nodded.

“What about the time of death?” Hank’s jaw had remained hard since that exchange with the doctor a moment ago.

Addie didn’t know if she even wanted to ask either of them what that had been about. She thought Sarah might be someone she could be friends with as well as colleagues. After all, they’d only just met and seemed to be on the same wavelength.

“This Rizzoli and Isles thing you guys have going on is cute and all.” Hank folded his arms. “But we need to find who did this.”

Dr. Carlton stood. Before she could say anything, McCauley motioned to the trees. “You need to take a walk, Maxwell?”

“No, sir.” Hank seemed to force out the words. “If we could have time of death, Doc?”

Carlton nodded. “Given the liver temp and the ambient, I’d say six to eight hours ago.” She looked at her watch. “So, somewhere between one-thirty and three-thirty this morning. But I should be able to narrow that down.”

“Thanks.” Hank strode away.

Addie wanted to talk more with the ME, but the information she needed would likely come after the autopsy. She excused herself and followed Hank.

Addie caught up just beyond the tape. “Hey,” she called out to him. “What’s going on?”

Hank slowed. He seemed to need a few extra steps to walk off whatever ran through him, giving him this edgy vibe.

“You just don’t like murder?” She shrugged one shoulder. “Cause not many cops do.” Or this was more personal.

Maybe he needed to feel as normal as she did. Knowing what they went through and the fact he’d lost the person he’d been closest to back then. Now another woman was dead, possibly held for a few days first.

It didn’t serve to draw those lines of distinction and separate them from everyone who hadn’t had their innocence stolen like that.

They were like patient zero of a disease—the three of them—and the infection spread from there. Or the point of impact of a gunshot. The effect rippled out as the energy dissipated.

Sometimes Addie didn’t want to feel different. She wanted to feel like she was the same as everyone else.

Not that she ever had been. After all, most people’s parents stuck around and cared for them. They didn’t drop their child with a relative and take off to live the high life with nothing to chain them down. Then when they came home, they threw their drama around and caused havoc.

Probably it was just her.

“I’m fine.” Hank lifted both hands then dropped them to his sides. “And I don’t need a buddy. Not when you’re going to go back to your cushy federal life as soon as possible.”

“Mmm. I do like my cushy life.” She folded her arms.

“Fine, I know nothing about you.” He lifted a brow. “Whose fault is that?”

“You haven’t changed, have you?” She shook her head.

Hank took a step closer to her.

Addie resisted the urge to retreat. “You switch moods the way most people change their mind about what food they’re in the mood for.” She kept her arms tight across her chest. “Always have. Though you seem to have it buttoned up for the most part. So what do you do when it gets too much?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“Okay. Fair enough.” Addie studied him. “What got to you?”

“Looking to build a profile on me?”

“Yes, clearly I think you had something to do with this. Or I can’t be ‘friends’ with anyone. I have to see them as a project. So since you’re right, and we don’t know each other all that well, here’s a pro tip, Hank. I’m on your side.”

“Yeah? What if my side and Jake’s side are opposite?”

Addie frowned. “Explain.”

He wouldn’t have said it if there wasn’t something to it. Whatever had gotten in his head, he was ramping up to spin out. The fallout wasn’t going to be pretty. She’d seen Hank on a rampage, like after his dog died. He’d punched out two of the defensive line at practice, yelled at the coach, and thrown his helmet so hard it cracked.

“I was at Jake’s when the call came in.”

Addie nearly asked where Jake lived, but what business was it of hers? He’d said he would find her. Make a reservation and let her know. He hadn’t done it yet. Maybe because he’d changed his mind, she was trying not to care.

“He asked me to tell him when we found out the time of death.” Hank ran a hand down his face. “So he can figure out his alibi.”

Addie frowned. “He wants inside information from the police to eliminate himself as a suspect?”

Hank lifted his hands and exhaled a long breath that expanded his chest. His build made him formidable. He was bigger than he’d been in high school. The guy could pack a punch if he wanted to. Jake, on the other hand, was leaner and fast. She tried to believe that neither of them would hurt her. They should have solidarity after what they’d been through together. But she was only certain that Jake would never have hurt her.

Despite what he’d said and the fact he’d torn out her heart at the worst possible moment.

“Jake probably thinks everyone has him on their suspect list for everything. Maybe he’s paranoid, living in that huge apartment all by himself.” He shrugged. “Who knows? I mean, we all have a dark side. Right? You of all people know we all hide the truth behind a facade.”

She shook her head, unsure what that meant.

“Because you get into people’s heads.”

“You think I want to get in yours?”

He grinned, and she knew the storm had passed. “Might not be a good idea.”

“You’re right about that.” She glanced back at the scene. “I should head to the office. Look at the files and see if this one fits. Any ideas where to start?”

Something flashed on his face. A matured expression she couldn’t decipher. “Thea Ackerman. I’d love to get the guy who did that.” He practically spat the words.

“Thanks. I’ll keep you in the loop. And you do the same?”

He nodded.

Addie spoke with the captain, got the ME’s card, then walked alone—down the trail, across the parking lot, to her car.

The whole time, she couldn’t get rid of the crawling sensation on the back of her neck.

Someone was out there.

Watching.