Page 18

SEVENTEEN

Durham, New Hampshire

Thursday, October 10

6:34 a.m.

The water had gotten too deep.

She and Ford had attempted to grab everything they could carry out, but the scene was gone. The containers of bleach and dish soap, a compressed syringe, the newspaper clippings, Alice Dietz’s backpack—it was all that was left. Whatever secrets had been preserved in that room were now lost. Everything else had gone straight to the forensic team for eventual processing with nothing more than their mobile kits used on the crime scene.

Another shiver wracked through her arms. Pain ricocheted down into her hands. The cold wouldn’t relent. Two students had been nice enough to come together to supply her with a dry hooded sweatshirt and a pair of sweats once she’d emerged from the basement, but cuddling Ava hadn’t done a damn bit of good to bring her core temperature up. She’d only gotten a couple hours of broken sleep on the floor, and it was taking a toll on her brainpower. “Who says I never let you have junk food for breakfast?”

Ava licked the remnants of melted chocolate from her fingers. “I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to advocate for protein, greens, and fruit to promote my growing body.”

Rain fell in sheets outside the double doors, though the winds had died down considerably. There was a chance Mother Nature had gotten tired of beating this small university town black and blue, but it would be hours before Durham PD reopened the roads. Hours which their killer would surely use to his advantage.

Leigh tried to hug her knees closer to contain what little body heat she had left. Really, she just didn’t want to think about what could happen if they didn’t catch this killer. “Please don’t say those words to me again.”

“What? Growing bodies?” A spark of amusement lit up Ava’s coffee-brown eyes. She had the uncanny ability to find almost anyone’s weakness and use it against them. Like a superpower. “What about intercourse?—”

“Finish that sentence, and I’ll handcuff you to me for the rest of the day.” A chill that had nothing to do with the beginning symptoms of hypothermia and everything to do with not wanting to have this discussion in the middle of a lobby surrounded by students swept through her. “I’m sure your new friends would appreciate the entertainment.”

Ava narrowed her eyes on Leigh in challenge. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I have them right here.” She pulled a set of cuffs from the back of her waistband. “What’s the point of making threats if I can’t back them up?”

Pure, unfiltered shock contorted the fifteen-year-old’s expression before she shoved to stand and rejoin the friends she’d made. One of them being Tamra Hopkins, Alice Dietz’s roommate. The redhead gave Leigh a half-smile as Ava slid into their ranks.

“Coward.” She’d have to file that threat away for later. For now, she’d try to salvage any melted chocolate from Ava’s candy bar wrapper. A pair of dress shoes and slacks penetrated her peripheral vision. Leigh froze. With her tongue slicked against the inside of the wrapper as if it’d been superglued.

“Please tell me you didn’t get that out of the trashcan like a raccoon.” Ford crouched beside her, somehow looking as handsome and clean as ever. He’d been in that water too. Maybe not for as long, but he didn’t seem to be suffering a single symptom. That just wasn’t fair.

Leigh forced herself to retract her tongue back in her mouth, even though she’d found a particularly good glob of caramel left at the bottom of the wrapper. “Would it change your opinion of me if I did?”

“Not in the slightest.” A smile deepened the creases around his eyes, and she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen something so… genuine. Ford dug into his windbreaker pocket. “Here. I got this for you.”

Her heart hiccupped at the sight of a full-sized candy bar. She grabbed for it. “Where did you get this?”

“Would you believe me if I said I found a stash in one of the professor’s desk drawers upstairs and did not fight a freshman for it?” he asked.

“No, but I appreciate it all the same.” She tore into the wrapper and nearly devoured the entire offering in one bite, his gaze on her. “You weren’t expecting me to share, were you?”

“Not anymore.” Ford held up his hands in surrender.

She talked around chocolate and caramel and peanuts. “Sorry. Hypothermia made me hungry.”

“Why do I have a feeling you’ll be using that excuse for a while?” Ford’s smile slipped. “How’s Ava doing today?”

Leigh trained her eyes on her adopted daughter perfectly fitting into the group of the friends she’d made. Practical strangers. Ava had a way of doing that. Luring people in, getting them to care about her and look past her hardened veneer. Had it really only been last night they’d found themselves on the roof, desperate to bring Ava back inside? “Better, I think. There’s a lot we still need to talk about, but I’m happy she’s willing to try. The real problem is, I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“I’m pretty sure every parent of a teenager has your same problem.” There was that charisma, the way he could take any conversation and situation and extract her nerves from the formula.

“Yeah. But I didn’t really get a chance to prepare.” The candy bar lost its taste then. Too thick in her mouth. “Ava kind of fell into my lap, and now I feel like we’re both sinking, but she’s pushing my head under water to keep me from getting to shore.”

Ford unpocketed another candy bar from the breast pocket of his suit jacket. Where was he producing them from? How many more could he possibly have? “That’s… graphic. I’ve heard of babies being brought by a stork, but I didn’t think there was any truth to that particular fairy tale.”

“No.” A lightness wrapped around her mind. Instant sugar high after being depleted of any real calories over the past twenty-four hours. “I adopted Ava two weeks ago. Her parents… They weren’t able to take care of her anymore.”

“Isn’t that around the time you arrested your best friend for murder?” Ford settled his attention on Ava, the candy bar in his hand forgotten. His eyes widened slightly, and Leigh couldn’t stop the surge of acid forcing its way up her throat. “She looks exactly like her mother.”

“Nobody knows.” A desperation she hadn’t experienced in a long time entered her voice. He was a better investigator than he gave himself credit for, able to connect two random facts into one cohesive whole. She should’ve seen it before now. “I mean, nobody but her mother and the state and my family. She’s too young to consent to media interviews or be followed by photographers.”

Ford shifted his attention to Leigh. “You’re worried she’ll be subjected to the same treatment you were at her age.”

“I was a couple years older, but yes,” she said. “I don’t want her to have to go through all that. She deserves to have the chance to make her own choices and mistakes.”

“She wouldn’t be alone. She’d have you.” Ford remembered the candy bar in his hand and peeled the wrapper. There was no way he allowed himself to indulge in sweets as often as they had in the past twenty-four hours with that physique. But desperate times called for desperate measures. “Either way, her secret is safe with me. Honestly, I’m not even sure who I would tell. Even before I joined the marshals, I’ve never liked talking to people. I’d rather shoot them.”

“We have that in common.” Leigh found herself smiling again. It was easy to do with him around. “Thank you. For… everything.”

“Can’t let the FBI’s number one serial offender investigator go hungry in the middle of a case, now, can I?” He took a bite of his candy bar. “I guess we’re really not going to talk about earlier. I don’t know about you, but I don’t usually go around kissing attractive women while I’m on assignment. Let alone other investigators. I tend to have a lot more control.”

Which meant he’d lost his prized control. Because of her. Heat charged into her neck and face, chasing back the permanent chill she’d taken up. That shouldn’t make her as happy as it did. Investigators had to keep their heads in the game, but it’d been a long time since she’d allowed her wants to take the lead. And she definitely wanted Ford. “I don’t go around kissing attractive men while I’m on a case, either, but here we are.”

“Am I barking up the wrong tree, Agent Brody?” Ford asked.

Indecision seized her. Her initial instinct was to let him down easy. To move on as if nothing had happened between them, but the past few months had blown up in her face so cataclysmically none of her future plans remained intact. Leigh watched Ava throw her head back in laughter. Some joke Leigh was sure she wouldn’t understand, and her heart double-timed. She’d dedicated her entire life to fighting for those who couldn’t fight for themselves. Now felt like a good time to fight for herself. To become more than her job. “No. You’re not barking up the wrong tree, Marshal Ford.”

“Good.” There was that smile again. A little shy and a whole lot crooked. Like Ford was uncomfortable with his own emotions. “Then maybe once we’ve got our unsub in custody, I could take you out sometime.”

“We’d have to find him first.” She returned his smile.

“Right. I was hoping Alice Dietz’s devices we recovered from the basement could help us in that regard, but they’re both dead, and we have no way of charging them as long as the power is out.” Ford grabbed for his phone from another suit jacket pocket. The man was practically a Swiss Army knife in a much prettier package. “I’ve been thinking about what you said about the previous victims. That the killer targeted them for a specific need. I went back through the case files with your perspective in mind.”

The sugar rush from eating nothing but a candy bar in the past twelve hours simmered enough to let her focus on Ford’s screen. “The first victim was from Santa Ana. He worked remote, and if the killer was looking for a sense of freedom in his life as you suggested, this guy would’ve provided it. No spouse or children. According to his laptop’s history, this guy worked from all over. From the beach, one hit led us to a cabin in the woods, another to a small internet cafe downtown. He was a scientific journalist. Read complicated science journals I can’t even begin to summarize and rewrote them for easy public consumption for an array of outlets.”

“Able to work and write from anywhere.” Freedom, indeed. “All right. What about our next victim?”

“Here’s where it gets complicated. Wanting to take over someone’s identity for a sense of freedom, I understand.” Ford swiped his finger across the screen, pulling up the next file. “But what the hell would he want with a competitive bungee jumper from Glendale, Arizona?”

Leigh took the phone, reading through the second victim’s background. Good question. “Most jumpers are adrenaline junkies. Humans abhor boredom and create bucket lists a mile long to give their lives excitement. Our unsub may have been craving some spontaneity after living life as a science journalist.”

“Okay. Victim number three, Garland, Texas.” Ford moved on to the next victim, a professional headshot taking over the screen. “Guy was a police officer for over ten years.”

Now that one was surprising. “Did he have a partner?”

“Yeah. Going on two years together,” Ford said. “Saw each other nearly every day. Knew each other’s families. Even had been in a couple shootouts together. They’d been tight, right up until the partner started noticing some changes in our vic. Things like a sudden change in rooting for Dallas Cowboys when the vic had been a lifelong Houston Texans fan and wearing contacts. After the vic’s body was recovered, partner said he’d never needed corrective lenses in his life. That was one of the first things that tipped him off.”

“Relatedness.” It was what she experienced with her team, working with the BAU. For years, she’d always been on the outside looking in. Brought in to consult but never actually part of the team. What better way to connect with someone than by sharing that danger together? Living it. Relying on someone else to help you through the hard times. It was what was happening between her and Ford now. “A common goal.”

“Last victim was from Boston. He was some kind of professional runner-slash-influencer. Ran a bunch of marathons for a living. I’m not sure how crazy you have to be to put yourself through that. Got sponsored by one of the big running brands a few years ago.” Ford brought up a snapshot of the victim’s social media. Lots of gear unboxing, photos of shoes, and coastal runs in progress with times. “Our unsub made the transition seem almost flawless on the guy’s social media. Only problem is he doesn’t show his face in any of the photos.”

“The unsub wanted attention. Probably didn’t get a whole lot in his life. So he targeted someone who did.” Leigh caught sight of Professor Morrow, a little more worn around the edges than he had been last night during their interview. Wrinkles in his clothing, his jacket looking heavy on his dropping shoulders. “But none of these victims’ deaths explain why our killer would want to assume the identity of a criminology professor with a failing career.”

Ford handed off his phone with the photo of the newspaper clippings they’d recovered from the basement. “Unless it has something to do with you.”