Criminal Behavior--A Thrilling FBI Romance Page 13

  “Gwen Holloway noticed the clues, too, didn’t she? You helped her write the profile.”

  That roused him from the spell, and his frown deepened. “I gave her my input, sure. But that night, even after I noticed the inconsistencies, I couldn’t process what it all meant. In the back of my mind, I was already thinking copycat, but I couldn’t formulate a coherent theory. I was still in shock when the first patrol car arrived. Then the detectives came, forensics, the coroner. At some point, I drove home. Helen waited at the window. She met me at the door. I didn’t have to say a word because she already knew.”

  “You’ve never told me any of this,” Addie said.

  “I couldn’t bring myself to tell you, even after you became a cop. I didn’t want those terrible images to sully your mother’s memory. I wanted you to remember Sandy as she was. Maybe I wanted to remember her that way, too. A free spirit, infuriatingly irresponsible at times, but beautiful inside and out. She loved you, Addie.”

  “I loved her, too. She was a complicated woman. Secretive and oftentimes selfish. I’m not sure I ever really knew her, but I did love her. I understand why you’ve always tried to protect me, but sometimes the truth is the only thing that can heal old wounds.”

  A bitter edge crept into his voice. “And sometimes the truth just rips them wide-open again.”

  “So you had her case files sealed,” Addie said. “You knew as soon as I joined the department that I would go looking for them.”

  “The case files have always been available to you,” he said.

  “Not all of them.”

  “You didn’t need to see the photographs.”

  “Or the autopsy report?” She clasped her hands in her lap. “I know why you did what you did.”

  His gaze shot to her. He seemed on the verge of a denial and then thought better of it. “What are you talking about?”

  “You didn’t want me to find out that my mother was pregnant.”

  His eyes closed briefly. “What purpose would that knowledge have served? It only made the tragedy that much harder to accept.”

  “But I already knew. The autopsy report was merely confirmation.”

  His head came up. “Before you accessed the files? How?”

  “She told me.”

  Her simple statement seemed to stun him anew. “But you were just a child. She shouldn’t have put that burden on you. Why did you never say anything?”

  Now it was Addie who grew pensive and hesitant. Twenty-five years after her mother’s murder, and she still felt as if she were betraying a confidence. “She told me not to tell anyone, even my grandmother. She said it had to be our secret. People would be hurt when they found out, and she needed to decide how best to deal with the fallout.”

  He rubbed a hand across his eyes. “I wish you would have come to me.”

  “There were times when I wanted to, but my mother’s secret was the last thing I had of her. It bonded us. And whether I realized it or not, I needed to protect her.”

  His gaze softened. “You understand, then, why I wanted to do the same.”

  She nodded. “I do. You were worried what people would say about her and how that gossip would affect me. But she died twenty-five years ago. Hardly the Dark Ages. No one would have cared about her pregnancy.”

  “Don’t kid yourself, Addie. The more things change, the more they stay the same. People will always judge.”

  She wanted to argue his point, but deep down, she knew he was right. “Is that why you’re worried about Ethan Barrow? Are you afraid he’ll rip open all those old wounds?”

  “I worry about your wounds, Addie.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “Under other circumstances, I would agree, but that man caused a lot of damage ten years ago. Not just to this department but to you personally. He coerced you into accessing those sealed files, and to what end? So that he could cherry-pick information to feed to the press in order to taint the investigation. He tried to free his father by jeopardizing this department’s reputation and Finch’s conviction. He was devious and manipulative, and I don’t see that he’s changed much in that regard. But you have, Addie. You’ve grown into a damn fine investigator. You earned your detective shield and the respect of your peers the hard way. Everyone in this department recognizes your talent and dedication. You may be interested to know that your selection to Gwen Holloway’s program came as a unanimous decision.” He sat back in his chair and folded his arms. “You’ve worked too hard to throw it all away on another bad decision. Think before you act.”

  “I will. I always do.”

  “I hope so,” he said, but his tone sounded doubtful.

  He picked up his pen and opened a folder in dismissal. Addie got up and walked to the door, turning to study his bowed head before she went back downstairs to continue her work. The conversation left her sad and unsettled. It wasn’t so much his account of her mother’s murder scene that upset her. Addie had known the basic facts for years. It was the look in his eyes, the odd note in his voice. She tried to shake off her uneasiness, but she’d never seen David Cutler look so worn-out, and she wondered if Helen had been right to worry about his health.

  Or was it something other than the job that had hollowed his cheeks and shadowed his eyes?

  Addie looked up to find him watching her from the second-story railing. Their gazes clung for a moment before she turned back to her computer with a shiver.

  Chapter Ten

  Ethan waited on the porch steps when Addie got home late that afternoon. She pulled into the driveway and parked, taking her time to gather her things before exiting the vehicle.

  Her conversation with David Cutler still lingered, and his warning had not fallen on deaf ears. Ethan Barrow was trouble, but Addie couldn’t put all the blame on his shoulders. She had free will. She was the one who had allowed herself to be drawn back into an ill-advised investigation, but it wasn’t too late to right things. All she had to do was get out of the car and send Ethan packing. Come Monday morning, she could start her training with a clear head and enjoy this new phase of her career. She could seize the opportunity and run with it. Get on with her life as if the past two days had been nothing more than a glitch.

  But that wasn’t going to happen, and Addie knew it. From the moment she’d agreed to hear Ethan out, her course had been charted, and now things were moving too quickly to turn back. Someone had assaulted her, stalked her and loosed a dog on her. She wasn’t convinced those incidents were connected to Ethan’s investigation or to Naomi Quinlan’s DNA evidence, but at the very least, questions had been raised. Doubts were stirring. What if her mother’s killer was still out there somewhere? What if the murderer was someone close to her, someone she knew, respected, someone she would least expect? If she walked away now, would she be able to live with those uncertainties?

  Addie had been so young when her mother died and so devastated by the loss that she’d never thought to question the official investigation. As she grew older, certain things had crossed her mind—the paternity of her mother’s baby, for one thing. Even now, she had no idea who the father was. She barely knew her own dad. Her mother had kept her social life completely separate from their home life. All Addie had ever been told about the pregnancy was to say nothing.

  It has to be our little secret for now, Addie. Do you understand what that means?

  I can’t tell anyone.

  No one. Not even Grandma. People would be upset if they knew.

  Why?

  It’s grown-up stuff. You don’t need to worry about it.

  Mama?

  Yes, Addie?

  Will the baby live with us?

  Would you like that?

  I wouldn’t mind. She could stay in my room and I could take care of her like Aunt Helen takes care of me.

  Is that what you think? That Hel
en is the one who takes care of you?

  Don’t be mad, Mama. What did I do?

  You didn’t do anything, sweet girl. And I’m not mad. I just wish... Never mind what I wish. Actions speak louder than words. Things are going to change around here, Addie. That’s a promise. From now on, I’m going to be the best mother I can be to you.

  And to the baby?

  We’ll see.

  Addie hadn’t thought about that conversation in years. She hadn’t let herself dwell on the consequences of her mother’s pregnancy, hadn’t dared to acknowledge the suspicions that had glimmered at the edge of her subconscious since childhood. Those doubts threatened her peace of mind now, but she ruthlessly cut them out before they could take root. But as her mother’s voice flitted away, another, more sinister one took its place.

  It’s time you learn the truth.

  The truth about your mother.

  She glanced across the yard at Ethan. He stared back at her. The power of his gaze penetrated the car window, and Addie shivered. His father had killed her mother. As much as Ethan want to clear James Merrick’s name, Addie needed to believe in his guilt. Because the alternative was unfathomable.

  She got out of the car and started across the grass toward him. He rose to greet her. “What’s wrong?”

  “Who said anything’s wrong?” Her retort sounded sharper than she meant it. She took a breath and tried to relax, but his insight grated. She didn’t like that he could read her so easily.

  His gaze turned mildly reproachful. “I know you, Addie. I can tell when something is bothering you.”

  “No, you used to know me, but that was a long time ago.”

  “Or maybe I still know you better than you’d like to admit.”

  She sighed. “It’s been a long day. Let’s just leave it at that.” She sat down on the porch. “I won’t ask how you found out where I live, but I am curious how you got here. I don’t see a vehicle anywhere.”

  “I took a cab to the neighborhood entrance and then walked the rest of the way.” He sat down beside her. “I thought it was safer that way.”

  “You’re still that certain Gwen Holloway is having you followed?”

  “I’m that certain someone has eyes on me, yes. The cops showing up at Naomi Quinlan’s house proved that.”

  “Ida could have called them.”

  “Why would she do that?”

  Addie turned to give him a measuring look. “I don’t know, Ethan. I don’t know about a lot of things lately. You don’t just bring trouble. You bring confusion. Chaos. You’re exhausting. I feel worn-out already.”

  “Is that your way of asking me to leave?”

  “No, sit down. It’s my way of venting.”

  He sat back down. “I understand your frustration, but we’re getting close. We’re rattling cages, and someone is getting nervous.”

  “It says a lot that you think that’s a good thing.”

  “How else will we find the truth?”

  She could sense a nervous tension in him, an excitement that bubbled and brewed just below the surface. His anticipation was almost a tangible thing and more than a little infectious. Addie’s heart thudded as she studied his profile. She couldn’t help but admire the curl of his lashes, the straight line of his nose, the curvature of his lips. He was a very attractive man, more so now than a decade ago, because all those years on the job had seasoned and hardened him while all his secrets and obsessions kept him vulnerable. Addie found herself irrevocably drawn to him, even though he had once been her downfall and could be again if she wasn’t careful. She supposed that said a lot about her.

  He turned to her then, his expression inscrutable. If he had an inkling of her thoughts, his demeanor didn’t betray him. “I found something at Naomi Quinlan’s house that you should know about.”

  She drew a quick breath. “The DNA results?”

  “No, not that, unfortunately. But I did stumble across an interesting cache in the attic. I found notes and manuscript pages from her book project and some of the police reports and crime-scene photos from the Twilight Killer case files. Given Naomi’s age and her aunt’s connection to the case, I think we can safely assume that Vivian DuPriest is the one who had the police contact. We should go talk to her. She may know about the DNA results. It’s possible she acquired a portion of the original sample twenty-five years ago.”

  “I agree we should talk to her, but the leaker may not have been a cop,” Addie said. “Vivian probably had sources in the coroner’s office as well as the lab.”

  “I’m sure she did, but regardless of the original source, the material ended up in Naomi’s possession. She’s the one who ran the sample through the databases. From what I saw in the attic, her research was well organized. The photos and newspaper clippings were arranged in three distinct categories—Twilight’s Children, the killers and the victims.”

  Addie was horrified. “She had pictures of me in her attic?”

  “She had images of all the children. You should see that place. It was like she—or someone—had set up a hidden office. I saw a mattress up there, too. The area was littered with fruit and soft drink cans. Someone has been staying up there since her death.”

  “This just gets better and better,” Addie said with a shiver. The scenario sounded straight out of a scary movie. Someone taking up residence in a dead woman’s attic.

  Dark scenes bombarded Addie, but she tried to corral her imagination. “What makes you think Naomi didn’t set up the bed? If she thought her DNA discovery had put her in danger, she may have felt the need for a hiding place in case someone came looking for the results.”

  “Anything’s possible, but some of the apples looked fresh. I noticed other odd things, too. A cat got inside the house twice after I locked the doors. And an old mannequin had been placed on the floor and posed like one of Finch’s victims.”

  That stopped Addie cold. She stared at him for another long moment as she hugged her arms around her middle. “Posed...how?”

  “She was missing an arm, but the other one was crossed over her chest. Her hair was fanned out around her head, and a dried flower petal had been placed over her lips.”

  “A crimson magnolia petal.” It wasn’t a question.

  He nodded. “I had the crime-scene photos right in front of me. There was no mistaking the pose.”

  “This is starting to freak me out a little,” Addie admitted. “We’re not the only ones rattling cages.”

  “Apparently not.”

  “What’s this about a cat getting inside the house?”

  “Yeah, that was strange.” Ethan’s hand rested on the step between them. Addie had the strongest urge to link her fingers through his and hold on tight, because this was getting to be a very bumpy—not to mention, creepy—ride. “I first saw the cat in Naomi’s office. When I opened the front door, it ran outside, and then a little while later, I saw the same cat at the top of the attic steps.”

  “How do you know it was the same cat?”

  “It was black and white just like the one in the office. If you think back, Ida McFall said Naomi gave her a house key so that she could feed the cat. As in a singular feline. Either the cat has a secret way in and out of the house, or someone let it back in.”

  “Someone with a key.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Which means that person was in the house with you.”

  “It’s possible.”

  Addie glanced around the neighborhood and then stood abruptly. The streets were still sunlit, the lawns green and dotted with color. But a pall had been cast, and now Addie found herself peering around corners in search of sinister silhouettes. “Let’s go inside. I could use a drink.”

  Ethan followed her up the steps and into the tiny foyer. She punched in the security code and then turned to survey the entrance with a frown.


  “What is it?” he asked.

  She opened the door and examined the lock. “I don’t know. I just had the strangest sensation. Maybe it’s all our talk about keys and someone being in the house, but...” She glanced over her shoulder as she closed the door. “Have you ever had the feeling when you go home at night that someone has been in your house? It’s nothing concrete. Nothing has gone missing. Everything is in its proper place, but the air just feels different.”

  He walked over and glanced out the window before turning to scan the living area. “You think someone was here while you were out? Who else knows your security code?”

  “Helen and David Cutler. Matt Lepear. A cleaning service I use occasionally. I can’t think of anyone else other than the security company where I purchased the system.”

  “Why does your partner know your security code?”

  She gave him an exasperated glance. “That’s your takeaway?” She shook her head. “He crashed here for a while after his second wife kicked him out. I never got around to changing the code. Not that I need to. I’ve trusted him with my life for the past ten years.” The comment hung like an uneasy accusation between them. Addie had never consciously compared the two men. Matt was her partner. Of course she trusted him. Ethan continued to be both a frustration and a mistake, but there was no denying their chemistry. There seemed to be no dousing that spark.

  Ethan watched her curiously. “Is there any reason one of the Cutlers would come by while you were out?”

  “I was with the deputy chief earlier after I left you. Helen came over yesterday to feed the stray cats that hang around the backyard, but I can’t think of any reason she would have been here today. She knows I’m home from vacation.” They walked through the living area and into the kitchen. Addie opened the refrigerator and took out two icy bottles of beer. “You know what else is odd? I woke up last night with the same feeling. I was certain someone had been in the house. I even got up to look around. It turned out to be nothing. The alarm was set, the doors all locked. I was probably still wound up from finding those flower petals on my walkway. Not to mention being coldcocked.” She touched the bandage at her temple. “My anxiety spilled over into my sleep.”