LITMIR.BIZ

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I give the orders. Do you understand?”

      For a moment, he thought she would spit in his eye and tell him to go to hell. But her shoulders pushed back and she met his gaze head-on. “I do.”

      “Good. Then don’t get in my way.”

      “So does that mean I’m a part of the team?”

      “I’ll let you know.” For a moment, Nick swam in the depths of her stormy blue eyes. Until he remembered how badly he’d been burned by a woman with blue eyes and why he’d never go there again. “Time’s wasting. We’ve got a killer to catch before he does it again.”

      Chapter Two

      With Nick’s back to her, Brenna took in several deep breaths to help slow her pulse rate. Although she’d rather launch herself at the man and scratch his eyes out, she knew he had the right to toss her from the team. If she wanted to stay, she had to play it his way. But she didn’t have to like it.

      “Let’s look at that letter again.” Chief Burkholder crossed the room and leaned over the table to read aloud, “‘The killing’s only just begun. Watch them drop now, one by one.’”

      A chill slithered down Brenna’s spine. “Creepy, huh?”

      “Doesn’t sound good.” The chief scrubbed a hand over his face. The lines around his eyes and across his forehead seemed so much deeper than the last time Brenna had seen him. Tom Burkholder had been around a long time. He’d taken over as chief five years ago when Brenna’s father had died of a heart attack. Those years hadn’t been so hard on him, but he was ready for retirement, not for a serial killer on his home turf. “Do you know what the spot is in the middle?” he asked.

      “I have the crime lab looking at it. It looked like blood.” Brenna drew in a deep breath, her lungs tight in her chest. “I haven’t figured out why he sent me the letter.”

      Agent Tarver faced her, his eyes narrowed. “Think he might be a past conviction?”

      “Maybe.”

      The FBI agent’s attention jerked back to the whiteboard and he pointed a finger at the first mark. “Why now?”

      Chief Burkholder offered, “Perhaps he’s freshly out of jail and wants revenge.”

      God, she hated to think she was the reason a man was kidnapping and maybe killing other women. Nothing like a load of guilt to weigh her down during this investigation. All the more reason to catch him as soon as possible.

      Nick’s gaze caught hers.

      Brenna looked away first, with the uncomfortable certainty that Tarver could read her thoughts.

      He turned to the chief. “I want a scan on all the criminals Jensen had a hand in putting away, which ones are out on parole and those living in the area.”

      With a self-satisfied toss of her hair, she interjected, “I already have a colleague back in Bismarck doing just that. He should fax it any time to this station.”

      “So where does that leave us?” Chief Burkholder asked the room.

      “Three missing women, no bodies and only speculation on motivation. And a letter that could be a hoax sent to a state criminal investigator.” Nick lifted the letter. “Looks like a typical computer printout. Could be anyone.”

      A blond man Brenna didn’t recognize entered the room reading from a clipboard. “Victim one was a psychiatrist. She disappeared sometime between last Wednesday night and Thursday morning, when she didn’t show up for work. Missing person number two disappeared sometime Friday night. Her family notified us Saturday morning when she didn’t make a date with her mother.” When he glanced up, he lit the room with a grin and held out his hand to Brenna. “By the way, I’m Agent Paul Fletcher.”

      Brenna couldn’t help but smile; it was a natural reaction to the sparkle in the man’s light gray eyes. “Brenna Jensen.”

      His eyebrows rose and he squeezed her hand a little tighter. “Ah, the lady with the psycho pen pal.”

      With an uneasy laugh, Brenna pulled her hand from Paul’s. “That’s me. Lucky, huh?” She liked Paul instinctively. Unlike his partner, the dark and brooding Nick, he was warm and personable.

      “Hang with us.” He winked. “We’ll keep you safe.”

      “Move over, Romeo.” A woman almost as tall as the other two FBI agents pushed through the doorway behind Paul and held out her hand. “Melissa Bradley, part of this motley crew.”

      “Nice to meet you.” Before the words completely left Brenna’s mouth, Melissa had dropped her hand, slid another sheet on top of the clipboard Paul held and walked to the whiteboard. “Victim two was identified as Dr. Deborah Gomez, from across the river. Single female, lives alone. Victim three Michelle Carmichael, also single. Does it ever warm up around here? I think Texas is looking pretty good about now.”

      “All single women who live alone?” Brenna mused aloud. “Yeah, Texas does sound great.”

      “Two were doctors,” Paul added. “The psychiatrist was Dr. Janine Drummond. But I didn’t think you liked Texas, Mel.”

      She snorted. “I’m liking it better than the Arctic here!”

      The rest of Paul’s response was lost on Brenna. As the name Janine Drummond sank in, Brenna’s stomach dropped as if she’d hit a major dip in the road. “Did you say Dr. Drummond?”

      “Yeah.” Paul’s head came up. “You know her? She was an older woman who had a practice here for over twenty-five years.”

      “I know Dr. Drummond. She’s a very nice woman. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt her.” Brenna had been one of her patients. Dr. Drummond had helped her deal with the emotional side of being scarred. But the others didn’t need to know that yet. Maybe never.

      The doctor had been someone she could talk to when no one else had understood. Who would do such a thing? Brenna forced the tears back. She couldn’t show emotions with this bunch. Especially Nick Tarver. Emotion was a sign of weakness. She gulped past the lump in her throat and worked at a casual tone. “Dr. Gomez must be new to the area. I don’t recognize the name. Do you know anything else about her?” Brenna asked. “What kind of doctor is she?”

      “Professor at the university. She specializes in quantitative physics.” Melissa shrugged. “Paul and I were about to go out and question her staff.”

      “Carmichael is into real estate, also lives alone,” Paul said. “We’ll stop by her office as well and see if anyone knows anything.”

      “Good. Any sign of forced entry?” Brenna asked.

      “No,” Nick said. “Either our perpetrator entered through unlocked windows or the victims opened their doors for him. We did find one of the windows where the snow and ice had been scraped away.”

      “Any fingerprints?” Brenna knew from the letter the guy was careful. He wouldn’t risk leaving a sloppy fingerprint.

      “Not one.” Paul shook his head. “The places were clean. There was evidence of a struggle around Dr. Gomez’s bed with bloodstains on the carpet. We’ll have it analyzed to verify.”

      Brenna tapped a finger to her lips. “Have you pulled names of registered sex offenders in the area?”

      “Done.” Nick pulled a list from beneath a tack on the wall and handed it to Brenna. “One pedophile, Timothy Johnston, known for indecent exposure with grade-school kids, and one other, a convicted rapist, Bart Olsen, out on parole for the past month.”

      Paul pulled a sheet of paper off the clipboard and handed it to Nick. “Just got a report from Johnston’s parole officer. Said his parolee has been in Tennessee visiting relatives for the past two weeks and they have eyewitnesses that place him in Nashville at the time of the abductions.

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