Page 10 of Scorched (Killer #2)
“Not today. We need a fence that will hold him before we can bring one home.” The more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea of having a dog.
A lone woman with two small children to protect could always use a dog.
She’d make sure it grew into a big dog, one that protected her boys.
Paul could help her find just the right breed.
As she wandered around the yard, picking up sticks and toys, she kept a close eye on the boys. The skin on the back of her neck prickled as though someone was watching her. Twice, she spun around, sure someone would be there.
No one was.
At this rate, she’d be a nervous wreck before Paul returned at sundown.
After leaving the coroner and Mel, Paul swung by the office.
Only a few agents remained at their desks.
Paul breathed a sigh when he walked by Cain’s empty desk.
At least he didn’t have to confront the man and his attitude.
He wanted to place a few calls and then get back to Breuer before nightfall.
Paul stepped into his office and jerked to a halt.
Agent Cain leaped from Paul’s chair, ruddy red color filling his cheeks. “Sorry. Always wondered what it was like from the other side of this desk.”
“Well, now you know.” Paul tamped down the anger that flared inside. “Just don’t make it a habit.”
“I won’t.” He hurried around the desk and then danced around Paul, giving him enough room to take his seat.
The seat was warm. How long had Cain been sitting there?
A new file lay square in the middle of his desk.
Paul’s gaze panned the files and paperwork he’d neatly stacked on his desk.
Had anything moved? Had Cain been snooping through his work?
The next time he left his office, Paul would be sure to lock it.
Agent Cain dropped into the cracked leather seat across from Paul and leaned back, pressing his fingertips together in a steeple. “I hope you don’t mind, but after I met Alvarez on the fraud case I did some research on similar murders as the one in Breuer. ”
“It’s not in our jurisdiction.” Paul fished for a pencil from his desk drawer and then stared across at the man.
“I know,” Cain said, “but it should be.”
Paul’s fingers tightened around his pen. “Stay out of it, Cain. It’s not your case to work.” He didn’t trust the man yet. Especially with a case as sensitive as Elise’s.
“But there are several serial murder cases it could be related to. Cases where the killer was never found.”
The man didn’t give up, and Paul was past being patient with him. With anger sizzling just beneath the surface of his control, Paul leaned forward. “Agent Cain, what part of ‘it’s not your case’ did you fail to understand?”
The other agent leaned forward. “But I think we might have a serial killer in Breuer. Don’t you care?”
Paul stood up so fast his chair rolled back and hit the wall. “You are not to go near Breuer. You are not to contact anyone concerning the murder. And you are not to bring up this subject again with me or anyone else. Is that understood?”
Cain shot to his feet, his face stained a mottled red, his nostrils flaring. “But...”
Rounding his desk, Paul came to a halt in front of Cain, nose-to-nose. “Do you have a problem following orders, Agent Cain?”
“No, sir.” Right answer, wrong inflection, the man’s contempt evident.
But Paul accepted it. “Next time I have to remind you of your orders, I’ll write you up. ”
Cain straightened, his lips drawn into a thin line, his eyes burning with hatred. “Yes, sir.”
“Dismissed.”
Special Agent Cain spun on his heels and marched out the door, slamming it behind him with enough force to shake Paul’s framed college diploma from the wall. It fell to the floor with a crash, the glass front shattering into a million shards.
Damn. If Cain didn’t suspect Paul’s involvement in the murder case before, he sure as hell would by now. So be it. He’d been warned.
Paul made a call to Elise’s sister’s home in Minneapolis.
His friend and former partner, Nick Tarver, answered. “Hello.”
“Hey, Nick. How’s the weather up there?”
“Getting darned cold.” He laughed. “I hear you’re having a warm fall. I could use a little of that about now.”
Nick was an excellent FBI Special Agent who was always there when Paul needed help. And he needed it now. “I need a favor.”
“Shoot.”
“Can you check if anyone has accessed Alice Klaus’s files? If anyone in the system knows what she changed her name to?”
“What’s happening?”
“Found a body this morning in Breuer.”
“Alice? ”
“No, but whoever killed her wanted it to look like Stan Klaus. And the victim’s first name was Alice.”
“Damn. Brenna won’t be happy about that. She’ll want to hop the first plane south.”
“No. Don’t let her. Not in her condition.” At eight months pregnant, she’d be more of a hindrance than a help to him. “Mel and I are handling it from here. If you could dig around and see if her files have been accessed, that would help.”
“You got it. If you need more help, I’ll come. All you have to do is say so.”
“I know.” Paul allowed a tight smile to stretch across his lips. Nick was one of his true friends. A man he could count on when he needed a hand. But this was his command. He had to handle things on his own. “Thanks.”
He hung up, grabbed the spare shaving kit he kept in his desk drawer for the times he worked through the night and headed out the door.
A bad feeling crept across his skin, raising gooseflesh across his forearm. His footsteps quickened, urging him faster. Once he reached the parking lot, he broke into a run.