Vision of Power Page 2

  “You’re not going to start treating me like a civilian, right? Telling me to be careful and to lock up at night?” Her dry tone made him want to chuckle, despite the severity of the situation. The urge to laugh wasn’t something that happened often. He didn’t try to let go of the nightmare of his past. It was part of who he was and why he’d chosen a career with the bureau. To rid the world of monsters—especially those who lurked behind familiar names and faces. Mother. Father. Uncle. Coach.

  “During the day, too.” He gave Kinley a small smile to let her know he was joking. He respected the hell out of her. There was no doubt in his mind that she could take care of herself. The grin died on his lips when a flutter of white caught his eye. A piece of paper was stuck beneath his windshield wiper. He examined the parking lot. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Kinley had spotted the paper, too.

  “Jesus loves you or two bucks off of your next oil change?” Her tone was easy sarcasm, but he didn’t miss the way her right hand hovered around her hip—where she positioned her weapon.

  “Let’s take a look.” He rounded his black SUV. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he read the handwritten note clinging to the glass.

  She was mine first.

  He retrieved his cell phone and dialed his office. “This is Agent Adair. I need CSI down here.” After relaying the address and enough of the situation for the time being, he looked at Kinley. She’d gone a few shades paler, her eyes wide as she stared at the script.

  “Car.” He shielded her with his frame. “CSI will see if they can pull anything from the scene. Maybe we’ll get a fingerprint or two.”

  She nodded once and skirted around the back of her car to open the driver’s side. Giving the area one last look, he got in the passenger seat and slammed the door shut.

  “I’m being watched.” Her voice was void of emotion. “For how long, I wonder?”

  “He’s getting bold. It’s broad daylight. Anyone could’ve driven past. I need to get to a computer.” The place he was most powerful was behind a monitor, hands on a keyboard. He could slip into the dark web, hack into any surveillance camera, and draw data from beneath every virtual stone. “We need to find a safe place for you, and I need to bring the FBI in on this.”

  “I’m not hiding. If I can draw him out just by living my life, I’ll gladly try.” Her hand was poised to shift into reverse, eyes locked on the rearview mirror. Imagine trying to live while the whereabouts of your worst nightmare were unknown. How she’d not only survived but thrived was beyond him.

  “Right now, I seem to be the focus. That means he’s not looking for another victim to snatch.”

  Sirens wailed in the distance, easing some of the tension pinching his shoulder blades. “Did you come here from your apartment or the police barracks?”

  Her frown deepened. “Apartment.”

  “You said it yourself.” Two cruisers took a sharp left into the parking lot. He gave one of the officers a chin lift. “He followed you. Knows where you live. Whether it’s the Kingston Town Killer or some jackass looking to scare you, you’re not safe. Your location is compromised. Is there someone you’re close to? Friends, family in the area? Anyone you can hole up with for the time being?”

  “And put someone else at risk?” Anger sparked in her eyes. “Not happening.”

  Dammit. She was going to be stubborn. Isolating herself wasn’t going to help. He could reach out to Gus and Jules, two of his foster siblings, to see if she could crash there. A selfish part of him knew he could keep her safer. He glanced at her, such a fascinating combination of strength concealed by delicate features: the high porcelain cheeks, a petite upturned nose, lips set in a defiant scowl. Something surged to life inside him. Protective. Possessive. He was only feeling this way because she’d come to him for help. That was it.

  Then, the solution hit him, settling comfortably into his gut. The only thing concerning about the idea was the instant sense of peace it gave him. He wasn’t going to think too hard about his feelings. Not now. “Okay. You’ll be safe enough with me.”

  “Whoa.” She reared back, gaping at him. “Slow down. That’s not what I meant. I appreciate the gesture, but I have a job to do. Cases that aren’t just going to wait around while I hide in some safe room, leaving families to agonize over what happened to their loved ones. I have a place to go when I’m off the clock.”

  He’d pissed her off. Color saturated her cheeks, and her glare was intense and unwavering. “We’ll swing by the barracks. Talk to the lieutenant and get whatever you need from your desk.”

  “I need to talk to your investigators. Give them more background than what you relayed to your colleague so they understand the situation.” The guys from the FBI crime lab had arrived and were busy securing the scene.

  “They can reach you at the barracks. The person you need to fill in now is your lieutenant.” He was an asshole for being pushy, but she needed her network to know what was happening. Needed additional eyes on the situation. Kinley needed allies. “The lieutenant might be close to retirement, but he won’t blow this off. He’ll make sure there is an additional layer of protection for you. Trust your team to have your back. I know Gus will.”

  “I take care of myself. Have for a long time. I came to you first because this guy is probably using a self-destructing email account. With your reputation, if anyone could get additional information, it would be you. Please don’t mistake my asking for help in this one area as a cry for help in others.” She paused and took a shallow breath. “Do you want to talk to them?” She gestured toward the two local police officers. “Or should I drive?”

  “Why don’t you stay put while I talk to the local guys? I’ll just be a minute.” He hated leaving her in the car, exposed. He searched the tree line across the road, looking for anyone who might be lying in the wait. No one popped out, but that didn’t mean whoever left the note wasn’t watching somewhere nearby.

  He got out of the car and walked over to the investigators. “You didn’t waste any time getting here. Appreciate it.”

  A man and a woman who he recognized from the lab turned as he approached. “We got on the road right before rush hour.” The woman surveyed the parking lot, eyes narrowed. “What’s going on? Someone giving you trouble?”

  “A friend of the family. This note might be connected to a prolific cold case. One that’s going to need to be reopened. I want to know if there were any fingerprints left behind on this.”

  “If there are, we’ll put it in the system and see if we can get a match.”

  He thanked them and took them up on their offer to take his vehicle back to the office before crossing to Kinley’s car. He got in the passenger’s side, slammed the door, and fastened his seatbelt. Silence hung between them until he picked up on the conversation they’d been having before he got out of the car to talk to CSI.

  “We can go now. Tell me why you feel like you need to go it alone.” The words came out harsher than he intended, but she didn’t shrink from him. “You’d have no problem assisting someone else,” he said more softly.

  “It’s different.” Kinley reversed out of the parking space, looking over her shoulder before trusting her back-up camera.

  The tires crunched over the dirt and gravel coating the ground before lurching onto the smooth main road. “How?”

  Her eyes darkened from honey to scotch. “They don’t know what he’s capable of. What would be in store if he took them or their children.”

  “Tell them. Make sure everyone knows exactly what will happen if he starts killing again—if he’s even stopped. We can get him off the streets, lock him away for good, but we need to communicate with those who took an oath to protect.” Her altruism was frustrating the hell out of him.

  “It’s not just that.” She blew out a breath, ruffling a strand of hair close to her lips. “I was always curious about his profession. The investigators’ profile was that of a middle-class male, white, most likely held a blue-collar job, and
had higher than average intelligence. What if he’s closer than we think? What if he always has been?”

  “You think he’s a cop?” Kinley was taking the exit toward Framingham. She was headed to the state police barracks.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. It would explain why he’s evaded capture for so long. Staying one step ahead. Knowing the right way to dispose of the bodies so they can’t be traced back to him.”

  “I can see it.” They slowed to a stop at a red light. A school bus flanked them on the right and a small sedan on the left. “That’s a good place to start. I’ll pull the records for all public service workers in Kingston Town and those who repeatedly failed the police and fire academy. Too narcissistic to hack it as a team player. Someone who saw constructive criticism as a slight. We can see if there were any law enforcement transfers to Massachusetts around the time you moved. I want to have a look at the victims, too. If I recall, there were no specific traits shared, except for the age range.”

  “Some were runaways, and others were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. An opportunity too good for him to pass up.”

  Like her. She didn’t need to elaborate. After Gus had told him about Kinley, he’d done some research of his own. Middle class, two-parent home, an only child. She’d gotten average grades in school and hadn’t been in any real trouble. She would perceive his research as an invasion of privacy. She wouldn’t care that the better he knew her, the more he could help to keep her safe. And he was doing exactly what she’d asked him not to—trying to take over, playing the role of protector. Was it out of gratitude because she’d saved his foster brother, or was he looking at her as someone who’d been abused? Someone like him and his biological brother. An innocent in need of protection.

  “Tell me about your decision to move to Massachusetts.” The light turned green, and traffic flowed forward. “I mean, medical care and education are huge draws, but as someone right out of college, it couldn’t have been easy moving up here. Housing costs are through the roof. The cost of living itself is high. Especially for a new trooper.” If she was surprised by his question, she hid it well.

  “It didn’t have to be Mass. I wanted New England, though. Somewhere drastically different from where I grew up. Where I could stop jumping at every shadow. Looks like they followed me anyway,” she said casually and flipped on her directional. Easton spotted Gus’s car in the lot of the brick building that housed one of the state police barracks.

  “Did your family consider the move?” After almost losing their daughter, it would’ve made sense for the Wrights to want to be close to Kinley. Then again, he didn’t have the best examples of paternal love.

  “I never asked. They went through their own kind of hell when I was abducted. Polygraphs, interrogations, the media camped outside the front door. I know they love me. There are no hard feelings. We just needed different things. They found comfort in the familiarity of their community. I found it suffocating.” The car jolted over a speed bump.

  He nodded slowly, considering. “It must’ve been lonely.”

  “Loneliness won’t kill you.” She whipped into a spot and turned off the engine. “Thanks for looking into this, Easton. Gus said if anyone can find this guy, it’s you. He’ll give you a ride back to your office.”

  He raised a brow at her quick dismissal. Maybe she refused to hide out. He could understand and respect it, but that didn’t mean he would leave her on her own. “Let me go in there with you to talk to the lieutenant. Together, we can figure out a plan to make sure this guy doesn’t ambush you while you’re doing your job.”

  The stubborn tilt of her chin told him his idea wasn’t a popular one. “I get that you want to help. It feels good to have someone frustrated on my behalf, but this is a conversation I need to have with him alone. If I walk into my superior’s office hiding in your shadow, how can he possibly trust my competence as a detective? I have cases that need my focus, and I’m not waiting around for a bodyguard or asking someone else to do my dirty work so I can hide behind a stack of papers.” She shot him a fixed stare, begging him to object further.

  “What are you afraid of?” Maybe she didn’t want to be perceived as weak. Perhaps it was more than that. Maybe she needed to be a crusader for victims, just as he did. If he was denied the ability to do his job, it would be a huge blow. If she helped enough people find closure to their own horrific tragedies, she didn’t have to think of hers.

  “How about my dignity and self-respect, for starters?” Her incredulous gaze stirred something within him. “Isn’t that enough?” She unbuckled her seatbelt, the latch clicking as she shrugged it aside.

  He was afraid for her. There was a tightness in his chest, which was stupid. She’d carried out her detective duties without issue this far. She didn’t need someone to keep her safe. She needed an ally. “They’re not going to think less of you. You won’t be fired.”

  “I was out long enough dealing with the department’s psych eval for the use of deadly force. I have to keep busy.” Kinley turned toward the backseat, reaching beyond the center console to retrieve her bag.

  The movement brought her body closer to his. Her scent hit him hard—coconut and sea salt—like she’d spent the morning on some sandy island beach. He drew in another breath. She was punchy and strong, but smelled like a piña colada and looked twice as sweet. The contrast between her outward appearance and inner strength was damn appealing.

  “If I get put on paid leave, or taken off my cases…” She turned around, stopping midsentence. “I hate leaving things unfinished. He took away part of my childhood. I’m not going to let him rob me of anything else.”

  And, hell. What was he supposed to say to that?

  Chapter Three

  The day was so busy, Kinley didn’t have time to think about the danger she might be in or the next steps she should be taking. She sure as hell thought about Easton, though. Getting the intensity of his gazes, the free-fall tumble in her belly at the most innocent touch, and the steady timbre of his voice to leave her mind was an impossible feat. She’d never felt the type of instant attraction she did with Easton. Her physical reaction to him was startling, but she wasn’t afraid. Without a doubt, Easton was a good man. One who had painful secrets shuttered behind his dark eyes. He understood her in a way she wished no one ever had to. She still received counseling and took medication for her anxiety. It didn’t shame her. Why should it? The steps she took to heal were as necessary as cleaning and covering a wound, setting a broken bone. But the majority of society shied away from discussing what it took to heal a soul. To the marrow of her bones, she knew Easton would never judge her. Would never question her personal journey.

  The first thing she’d done was go straight to her lieutenant’s office. She’d spent forty-five minutes convincing him that she was still able to do her job. Watching his face go from surprise, to shock, then pity wasn’t how she wanted to begin the day. Maybe she should be grateful for all her years of anonymity. Now that she’d had a taste of being a normal person, not just “the survivor,” it was hard to be treated otherwise.

  “You look like you could use some sugar.” Their dispatcher, Meredith Calder, rolled her chair to the other side of the sizeable v-shaped desk and pulled out a drawer. “Kisses or gummy peaches?” There was a reason they called the young woman Merry. She was the most considerate, kindest person in the station. Her drawer was always stacked with treats for her coworkers. That was just a stand-in for when she didn’t bake. Her smile was like a thousand-lumen floodlight. Since she joined the barracks two years earlier, everyone liked to complain about needing new clothing stipends because they’d all gone up a size. Ultimately, Merry was the best-loved person in the barracks.

  “Gummies. Thanks, Merry.” She sank her teeth into the sugar-coated candy and leaned against the wall. Why did artificial fruit slices have to taste so good?

  “Anytime, lovebug.”

  There was that, too. Her ridiculous nicknames.
Ones that only she would get away with calling the intensely alpha personalities in the station.

  The doorbell to the barracks chimed, and Merry glanced at the camera positioned on the front door before hitting the buzzer to allow the person access. Kinley instantly recognized the man. Merry’s dad was friendly with the lieutenant and had been a decorated agent with the bureau before his retirement. Added to that, he clearly adored his daughter and was always bringing her coffee or lunch from the outside world. She might’ve learned to spoil those around her from her dad, but her physical features were all inherited from her late mother, who was originally from Mumbai. Merry had explained her mom was in a terrible car accident shortly after Merry’s birth.

  “There’s my favorite daughter.” Mr. Calder smiled at his child with such affection it gave Kinley a pang of envy. Her parents hadn’t gone out of their way to keep in touch with her after she relocated. Then again, neither did she. Everyone coped with grief in their own way, but it still stung. “Thought you could use this.” He slid a tall coffee through the glass window. “You stay up too late studying.” Merry was just one more year away from earning her Master’s degree to become a criminologist.

  She rolled her eyes and giggled. “I’m pretty sure that’s what everyone has to do in college, Dad. Thank you, though. I’ll never turn down a caramel latte.”

  The sound of an incoming call made Merry straighten, her thick black hair swinging around her midsection as she reached for the phone, bronze cheeks falling with concern as she spoke.

  She relayed the information of an unattended death over the radio to inform their shift, and Kinley straightened. “I’m glad I didn’t go home yet. I’ll respond.” Working would keep her mind off Easton and her tormentor. Plus, she suddenly felt like she was invading a family moment—or maybe it was just her sense of isolation that made it seem that way.