CHAPTER
6
Anya stood in the snow, her black skirt covering her boots, her gaze on the casket slowly being lowered into the ground. She’d cried for five days straight, and she felt empty. Her sister, the strong and vibrant FBI agent, was dead. Tears filled Anya’s eyes, but she couldn’t look away from the smooth, polished wood.
Dead and gone—found on a barn floor.
Why had Anya called Loretta for help? She could’ve just called the closest FBI office, which happened to be in Snowville and had been already working on the case. She pressed a hand to her chest; it felt like somebody had punched her.
The FBI had found Loretta dead on the floor of the barn in Idaho.
The killer had left her there in the cold.
Loretta was gone.
The sister she’d only just begun to really know. The woman who’d dropped everything, relocated to Snowville, and put herself on a dangerous serial killer case just to protect a sister she talked to only a few times a year. The big sister Anya had needed and had already admired so much. The only family she’d had left in the world.
Dead.
The priest’s voice droned on, and several people cried silently, so silently around her. The agents were quiet in their pain.
She drifted, her mind numb and sliding back three months to when she’d opened her door to a sharp knock right after dawn.
“Loretta,” she said, stepping back and trying to wake up. “What in the world are you doing here?”
“Took a night flight from DC.” Loretta shoved curly brown hair away from her face and pushed inside, a small bag over her shoulder. Her chocolate brown eyes took in the entire apartment in seconds.
Anya looked into the hallway and nodded at the uniformed police officer who had shown up right after she’d called her sister. He nodded back.
“Where’s your luggage?” Anya asked.
“Here.” Loretta dumped the small bag. “I travel light.”
“Oh. Okay.” Anya shook her head and blinked several times. “What are you doing here?”
Loretta paused. “You’re in trouble. We’re sisters.” Then she’d enfolded Anya in a warm hug. “I promise I’ll take care of it, An. I promise.”
Safety surrounded her. She hugged her sister back, feeling the sense of family once again. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispered, drawing Loretta farther into the apartment. “Are you hungry?”
Loretta released her. “Starving. Let’s eat, and I’ll take a look at those pictures. The Snowville team will be here in about an hour, and then I’m thinking we move there for a bit. We can work this case together.” She shrugged, shifting her feet. “I thought we could use a few minutes together first.”
Tears pricked Anya’s eyes. “It’s so good to see you.”
Loretta grinned. “You too. Now. Do you have ice cream?”
“For breakfast?” Anya choked out.
“Sure. If you cook like our mom did, I want something from a carton.”
Anya shook her head, her gaze catching on Loretta’s gun at her hip. Her sister was a badass. “I can cook. I hope you really are hungry.” She headed for the kitchen. “What’s new?”
“Besides finding out a serial killer has focused on my baby sister?” Loretta asked, stretching her neck.
Anya jolted. “Funny. Very. How’s work?” She pulled out a couple of pots.
“Great.”
Anya turned to open the fridge. “Are you dating anybody?”
“Yep. Long distance . . . but maybe not so much now. You’ll meet him soon.” Loretta moved toward the table. “You?”
“No. Definitely no.” Anya paused as Loretta lifted her eyebrows. “Long story. I’ll tell you over breakfast.”
“Do I have to kill anybody?” Loretta asked, seeming to be only partially joking.
Anya snorted, feeling the bond she’d always remembered settling right back into place. “That might be something to discuss.” She laughed.
A sneeze brought Anya back to the freezing graveyard and stark reality.
Her heart hurt so deeply inside her chest. She couldn’t rub the pain away. Even her temples ached. Anya’s parents were both gone, and she was tired of being alone. For a brief time with Loretta, she hadn’t been.
She wavered, and Reese set a hand on her shoulder.
“You’re doing well,” he murmured, his normally bronze face pale. His intelligent eyes scanned the scores of agents, DC cops, and civilians all standing in the cold to say good-bye to Loretta. “I’m so sorry, Anya.”
“So am I.” She patted his hand. Reese had found Loretta dead and had had an angry hollowness in his eyes ever since. The FBI coroner had performed an autopsy, and now Loretta was being laid to rest in a peaceful cemetery outside Washington, DC, where she’d lived.
Anya looked around at the multitude of mourners. “Loretta was loved,” she said. The pain in her chest lessened a little.
“Yes, she was,” Reese said quietly. The casket finished lowering, and he turned toward her. “You need to return to protective custody until we find this guy. I owe Loretta that much.”
Not a chance. There was one good opportunity to catch this guy, and Anya was the key. He would not be allowed to continue. She purposefully let fury shove away the agony.
For now, she had a mission. Everything she’d learned, everything she truly knew about criminal psychology, told her exactly what to do. She dug deep for resolve and said a quick prayer for her sister to watch over her. She looked at the news vans and reporters being held back by a wide rope and several police officers. They seemed too far away across the icy snow. Could she get there before Reese stopped her? “How did they find out about Loretta’s death?”
Reese glanced over her shoulder. “I don’t know. It’s big news. Death of an FBI agent at the hands of a serial killer.”
The words sliced like a knife. Anya brushed snow off her coat and straightened her spine. “The service was beautiful.” The priest had been eloquent and had known Loretta well. Anya hadn’t even known her sister was Catholic. She focused on Reese, whose brown eyes were swirling with emotion. “Does anybody else know you were together?” she whispered. She’d known the second Loretta had introduced her to the man.
He concentrated on her. “No. It’s against Bureau rules, so we weren’t together.” His voice sounded clipped and almost robotic.
Anya sighed. “I’m glad you guys broke the rules.”
He blinked. “Why?”
“Because I’d like to think she found love during her life. That she’d found somebody.” Anya clasped her glove-covered hands together.
Reese lifted his head. “I wanted to go public, but she was a stickler for the rules.” He smiled a sad smile. “I actually liked that about her.” The agent’s pain was almost palpable and barely drowned out the tension emanating from the many other FBI personnel. They’d lost one of their own, in the most heinous scenario possible. Many were pale, most had set jaws and determined eyes. They were going to find this asshole. The words weren’t said, but they flowed throughout the group.
Anya swallowed and tried to find comfort in the fact that these people would stop at nothing to avenge her sister. But it wasn’t good enough. Her hands shook and her lungs heated. Standing on the sidelines wasn’t enough. She would find the asshole.
He wanted to include her in his psycho plan? Fine. She was smart and trained. He’d regret it. He’d regret everything.
A light snow began to fall, and a shiver wound down her back. The hair at the nape of her neck stood up, and her body tensed. Instinctively. She looked around slowly, trying to find movement in the dark shadows hovering around trees and headstones.
Nothing.
Yet she felt something. Eyes on her.
She hugged her coat tighter around her torso and kept searching. Who was watching her?
A serial killer was out there . . . focused on her. Was he close? Did he want to see Loretta’s funeral? Bile rose in Anya’s throat
. Before she could completely panic, a figure stepped away from a stand of snow-covered pine trees.
Heath Jones.
She drew in a sharp breath and took him in. Tall and broad, he stood in a battered leather jacket with long jean-clad legs encased in thick motorcycle boots. Aviator sunglasses protected his eyes from the meager sun, and snow fell unchecked onto his dark hair. A dark scruff covered his hard-cut jaw, and even though those odd eyes were covered, she could feel his gaze on her.
Tingles exploded unexpectedly in her abdomen. Her breath heated and quickened, the feeling not unpleasant but definitely a warning of some sort. Every inch of her wanted to run for him, to seek a risky shelter with him. What was wrong with her?
He seemed to be the opposite of her father, and yet . . .
As if acknowledging that she’d seen him, he raised a hand and then stepped back into the shadows.
Within a second, she couldn’t tell where he was.
Why had he wanted her to know he was there? She’d already given Reese Heath’s information, so it was too late to stop her there. Although she hadn’t told Reese about the kidnapping or the fake marshals. The detail on her had been light before, and if she told him, they’d definitely increase their forces. Of course, the light detail was how she’d ended up with the fake marshals briefly. They didn’t have anything to do with Loretta’s case, and that was all that mattered right now. So why was Heath there? The man had seemed to have a healthy respect for Loretta, so perhaps he attended just to pay respects.
Yet why stay in the shadows and away from the FBI?
There was no doubt in Anya’s mind that Heath Jones had a plethora of secrets, but that was his problem, not hers. In fact, couldn’t she use that? A man like Heath, one so definitely dangerous and mysterious, would be a huge insult and challenge to the serial killer. If she focused her attention on Heath, wouldn’t the killer take it as an insult? That she’d chosen Heath instead of him? A plan formed in her mind so quickly she nearly stopped breathing. If she had to use Heath’s secrecy and masculinity to avenge her sister, she would. Her vision narrowed to a tunnel, and she straightened her shoulders.
She patted Reese’s hand. “Excuse me for a moment.”
He glanced down and then was distracted when two agents approached him with what sounded like meager updates.
With another hard look into the shadows, she turned on her high-heeled boot and maneuvered very carefully through the snow to the roped-off area. The reporters scrambled toward her along with several camera operators.
“Anya,” she heard Reese call from behind her.
She gave the cameras a sad smile, her mind rapidly turning over the facts of the profile she’d created on the killer. Oh, she could get into his head. Make him show himself. “I’m Anya Best, and Special Agent Loretta Jackson was my older sister. She was brave and proud, and she served her country with passion and dedication.” Tears pricked Anya’s eyes, and she blinked them back.
Deliberately, she flicked her red hair over her shoulder to bring attention to the bright color. Then she leaned toward the closest camera. “Stop courting me, asshole. I’m tired of your game and am getting bored. In fact, I’m recently engaged to a real man, unlike you. My fiancé is Heath Jones of Lost Bastards Investigative Services out of Snowville in Washington State. You don’t like anyone in law enforcement, right? I’m marrying a guy who chases down jerks like you.” The guy preferred his victims to have living relatives in the law enforcement arena. He probably got off on the pain he caused family members.
“Snowville?” one of the reporters yelled.
“Yes.” The location was perfect, considering the Copper Killer Task Force was actually operating out of Snowville. Heath had said he was looking to relocate to the Pacific Northwest, right? Snowville could be the next office site for him. Whether he liked it or not.
The reporters started shouting at once, asking questions about the investigation.
She held up a hand and they went silent. “I think the Copper Killer is a stupid, weak, pathetic name that actually fits you, dickhead. I’m too much for you, which is exactly why you’ve never made a move on me.” She lowered her chin and let her eyes blaze, defying everything the killer thought she was. “You can’t get me. I want you to understand, we know what a coward you are, and we’ll get you. I’ll get you.” Then she smiled and drove in the final nail, even as her stomach rolled over. “I don’t want you. Never did and never will. In fact, I can’t even remember when we first met. If we even have met.” The ultimate insult, considering the man was obsessed with her.
Without another word, she turned on her heel and headed back to Reese.
His face was pale, his mouth pinched, his eyes swirling with shock. “What in the world did you just do?”
She blinked and clenched her fingers into fists. “I set myself up as bait for the asshole—right in your hometown, no less.” In addition to turning the psycho’s attention onto Heath, which he wouldn’t like. The killer would have no choice but to make a move on her instead of some other helpless victim. It was time to set a trap. “Now do your job and find this guy.”
CHAPTER
7
Even from a distance, Anya could feel fury coming from the stand of trees beyond the many gravestones. She had to be imagining that, right? No way could Heath be angry enough that she could feel it. She took several deep breaths and tried to convince herself.
Reese grabbed her arm. “You’re crazy. Seriously crazy.”
She gently extricated herself. “No. This guy is fixated on me, and it’s time to take him down.” Her sister had been brave, and she could be, too. The killer wouldn’t get the chance to kill another woman. It was time to end this.
For Loretta.
“You’re going back into custody right now.” Reese motioned her toward the row of cars.
“No.” She planted her feet. “Loretta had the right idea.”
“Loretta was abused and strangled,” Reese burst out, his handsome face blooming red. “She was trained and dangerous, and this guy still got her.”
Anya’s knees wobbled. The images cut into her sharper than any blade. “I know.” But she had one shot to help find her sister’s killer, and she was taking it. “I respectfully decline your offer of custody.”
Reese shut his eyes as if trying to keep his temper fully in check. Mourners moved around them toward the cars. “Listen. I get it. I really do. But if I let anything happen to you, Loretta will haunt me till I die. So work with me. And by the way, you suddenly have a fiancé?”
She kept her face calm. “Heath and I had a whirlwind romance, and he proposed quickly, but it’ll stick. We’ll stick.” She lied through chilled lips. “Heath is a detective, so we definitely fit the profile.” Part of the killer’s motivation was the pain he inflicted on the living . . . not just the redheaded women. The family members of his kills were his victims, too. She’d used every bit of her education to work up the profile on him. “The killer will think I just betrayed him in his bizarre fantasy by getting engaged to another man. It’ll infuriate him.”
“You’re crazy,” Reese muttered.
“Yeah, but time is short. The killer is probably looking for his next victim now.” The guy waited anywhere between one and five weeks before striking again.
Reese shook his head. “The killer also goes after cops now. Maybe he has his sights on another cop.”
“Maybe, so let’s get busy.” The chill attacked her, and she shuddered. “I’m not being stupid here. Heath really is a private detective, and I’ve hired his firm to help with this. They were working with Loretta, so I’ll keep them on retainer in a protection detail while this is going on.” Was it called a protection detail? She’d seen that on television somewhere.
Reese shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“I’m not giving you a choice.” She was fairly certain the FBI couldn’t force her to remain in custody since she was neither a witness nor a suspect. “You know I’m
the best bet to find this guy.”
“Only because you just set yourself up on every damn news channel,” he snapped.
“He started it.” God, what had she done? For the first time in her life she was taking a huge chance to the point of being reckless . . . but she wasn’t stupid. “This is our only way of getting this guy, and you know it.” When she did get him, she’d make him pay.
Two agents motioned for Reese, one of them talking rapidly on the phone. Reese furiously waved Agent Dingman over. “She doesn’t go anywhere.”
Dingman nodded and clutched her worn wool coat around her body.
Anya dipped her chin at the agent and moved toward the gaping hole in the ground. “I just want a moment,” she said.
The woman’s eyes softened. “I’ll be right over here. Take your time.”
Anya stepped lightly over the ice to reach her sister’s casket. “I’m sorry I got you involved with this,” she whispered, tears finally flowing freely. “You were everything strong and good in the world, just like my dad. I love you, big sister.” How had this happened? How could Loretta really be dead? A sob rolled from Anya, and she bit her lip.
“Anya?”
She turned suddenly and looked up to see her ex. “Carl? What are you doing here?”
He brushed snow from his sandy blond hair. “I saw the news and came right away.” He gingerly grasped her arm. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Anya’s mouth dropped open and then shut quickly. She shook her head at Dingman’s questioning look. “It’s okay,” she mouthed.
Dingman lifted an eyebrow but remained in place.
Anya kept her face placid as fury flowed through her veins. How dare he just show up? “It’s nice you came, but I don’t want you here,” she said under her breath. “There are FBI agents everywhere, and if I throw a fuss, they’ll be on you in a second.”
Carl shook his head, standing straighter in his gray suit with a tailored overcoat. His blue eyes sizzled through the storm. “Listen, I know you’re angry, and I deserve that. But your sister has died, and I’m here to be with you. We dated for months, sweetheart.”