Criminal Behavior--A Thrilling FBI Romance Page 6

  Even so, she remained tense and alert as she entered the house. A lamp in the small foyer was on a timer, and she was grateful for the soft glow that chased away shadows. She hurried over to a small desk, typed in the code on her security console and then unlocked the top drawer, where she kept a gun. Her service weapon was in her bedroom, locked in a nightstand.

  Right hand supported with her left, she moved through the house, checking corners and closets, doors and windows until she was satisfied that no one had entered her home.

  Grabbing a flashlight from the kitchen, she went out the back door to have another look around. Angling the light along the flagstones, she traced the crimson trail from the steps all the way back to the garage. No way she could have missed those petals, and no doubt they had been left for her to find.

  She kept the gun in her right hand while she lifted the flashlight with her left, sweeping the beam back toward the fence where the floodlights didn’t reach. A breeze rattled the palmettos, and she could hear the soft mewling of the cat somewhere in the bushes. But all else was quiet. Too quiet.

  The hair at the back of Addie’s neck lifted as she scanned the shadows. She wanted to believe the petals were nothing but a cruel prank. Like the anonymous letters she received from time to time, the magnolia trail meant nothing. But she couldn’t forget Ethan’s suggestion that her mother’s killer might still be out there. What if he had been keeping tabs on Addie all these years? What if, like Delmar Gainey, he still thrilled to his dark secrets?

  The notion of someone deriving pleasure from spying on the daughter of his victim was more than Addie wanted to contemplate at the moment. She’d had enough monsters for one day. Turning, she moved back along the path to the steps, but as the light swung back into the yard, the beam clipped a silhouette against the fence. Just a tree, Addie told herself. Just a shadow.

  Slowly, she moved the light back over the yard, catching the gleam of human eyes before the figure turned and scrambled over her fence.

  “Stop!” Before she had time to consider her actions, Addie sprinted after him, tucking her weapon and flashlight in the waistband of her shorts so that she could hoist herself up and over the fence. She landed with a thud in her neighbor’s backyard. Drawing her weapon, she hunkered in the shadows at the fence, peering into the darkness for any sign of her trespasser.

  Her neighbor’s yard was dark, and only a faint glow emanated from the edges of the closed blinds. Now Addie was the trespasser. She told herself to give up the chase and go home. She could call for a patrol of the street, but the intruder would be long gone by the time a unit was dispatched to the scene. Better she check this out for herself. At the very least, she could give the trespasser second thoughts about invading her turf again.

  A dog barked down the street. The same night bird trilled from a treetop. Addie waited. Across the yard came the sound of rustling leaves, followed by a scrape. Heart still thudding, she pinpointed the noise with her flashlight, glimpsing the back of the intruder as he went over the fence into the yard of the house being renovated. No one would be around at this hour. A vacant house would be the perfect place to hide.

  Again, Addie told herself to give it up. She’d scared him sufficiently by now. Go home. Go to bed. Let it go.

  But she couldn’t let it go. Her stubbornness propelled her over the second fence, and she dropped to the ground more lightly this time. Hugging the bushes, she took out her phone and texted the address to Matt Lepear.

  She slipped the phone back into her pocket and eased across the yard, flashlight over gun. The back door hung open. Not a good sign. Nor were the magnolia petals that had been dropped along the back steps. The intruder was outright taunting her now. Aggressively so.

  Protocol and common sense demanded Addie wait for backup. She went up the steps without hesitation, flattening herself against the wall for a moment before proceeding inside. She moved through the open floor plan quickly, clearing each space before entering the next. An empty paint can clanged against her toe, and she crouched as she swept the area with the flashlight.

  “I know you’re in here,” she said. “Show yourself. I just want to talk.”

  “Adaline.” The electronically distorted voice was so low she couldn’t tell where the sound came from. Dread descended as she moved through the shadows.

  “Who are you?” she demanded.

  No answer.

  “How do you know me?”

  Silence.

  “Why did you leave those magnolia petals on my walkway?”

  “You know why.”

  The warped voice echoed through the empty room, sending chills up and down Addie’s spine. “Come out now and deal with me, or deal with my backup.”

  She eased through the plastic partitions, listening for a misplaced step or a telltale breath. All was silent. She had a feeling he could see her, though. That he was watching her every move. She glanced over her shoulder, glanced all around her. He was there. She couldn’t see him, couldn’t hear him, but she sensed his presence. He was close.

  Something metallic pinged against the floor, and Addie whirled, moving quickly through the plastic sheets until she realized too late that she’d walked into his trap. She’d let him distract her, and now he’d come up behind her.

  She turned, catching only a glimpse of a masked face before the intruder struck her across the forehead with the flat side of a board. The blow dazed her, and she staggered back, dropping the flashlight as she crashed to the floor. The partitions came down on top of her, and for a moment, Addie panicked, clawing like a caged tiger at her plastic prison. She fought her way up and scrambled free, reaching for her weapon as she heard footsteps running from the room, down the hall, out the front door.

  Scrambling to her feet, she attempted to pursue, but the blow had stunned her and he had too much of a head start. She trailed him onto the front porch, angling the light over the yard and down the street.

  Then she collapsed on the front steps to wait for her partner.

  * * *

  ADDIE SAT ON the edge of the bathtub and winced as Matt Lepear cleaned the cut on her forehead and then applied a butterfly bandage. He was none too gentle about it, either. “You don’t need stitches, but that’s going to leave an ugly mark. You’re lucky he didn’t take out an eye.”

  “I guess this is my day for close calls.” She touched the bandage gingerly. “Thanks for doctoring me up. And for getting here so quickly.”

  “I was at Shorty’s,” he said, naming a nearby watering hole. “You should have waited until I got here. What you did was really stupid. You know that, right?”

  Addie shrugged. “You would have done the same thing.”

  “I would have had the good sense not to get myself coldcocked before help arrived.” He put away the supplies and then rinsed his hands at the sink. “Okay, now that you have my undivided attention, walk me through what happened. Start at the beginning, when you first saw the flower petals.”

  “Not just any flower petals. Crimson magnolia petals.” A shudder went through Addie as she folded her arms around her middle.

  “I get the significance,” he said with a nod. “The Twilight Killer was a gardener. He studied horticulture in college. They covered all that in the documentary. His schooling. His resentment of the elite and his fixation on single mothers. The particular kind of red magnolia he grew was rare. The crimson petals became his signature. And now someone has left those same magnolia petals on your walkway.”

  “The same color, at least. We don’t know if they’re precisely the same. There are dozens of varieties of red magnolias. I admit I was jolted when I saw them—I thought they were drops of blood at first—but now I just think it was someone’s idea of a prank. That’s why he hung around to witness my reaction. I’m sure he didn’t count on my chasing after him.”

  “He knew your name, though. You said he call
ed you Adaline.”

  “He would have to know my name to find my address. Maybe he watched the same documentary you did. Saw my picture and decided to have a little sick fun.”

  “Sick sounds about right.”

  Addie stood and brushed off her shorts. “You want a beer?”

  “I never turn down a cold one. But I have to say, you seem pretty calm about all this.”

  “It’s not even close to the worst thing I’ve seen today.” She checked his handiwork in the mirror before exiting the bathroom behind him. Matt knew her house well enough to take the lead down the hallway and into the kitchen. He sat on a bar stool while she grabbed icy bottles from the refrigerator and uncapped them. Then she went around the bar to join him.

  “Do you think this incident could have something to do with why Ethan Barrow’s back in town?”

  Addie slid over a coaster. “I don’t see how.”

  “It seems a big coincidence, all this happening to you tonight after he showed up today.”

  “Oh, come on,” Addie said. “You don’t seriously think he did this.”

  “Not him personally, no. But he has a way of bringing trouble. Why’s he here, anyway?”

  “He said he had business with the deputy chief.” The half-truth slipped a little too easily through Addie’s lips, especially for someone who had always tried to be totally honest with her partner. Matt would see through her, of course, but Addie wasn’t sure she was ready to get into the whole Ethan Barrow discussion. The meeting with him had affected her more than she wanted to admit. Memories were stirring, and it was hard enough to keep them at bay without his name popping up all over the place.

  Matt eyed her dubiously. “What business?”

  “He didn’t elaborate. He said it would be up to my uncle to tell me.”

  “Okay, then. Let me put it another way. Why did he come to see you? And how did he know you’d be at the Gainey house?”

  “Apparently, he overheard someone at the station mention my whereabouts.”

  “So he just showed up out of the blue? Without any prior conversations or correspondence? Just boom, he’s here.” Matt gave her a long scrutiny. “Sorry, Add. Not buying it. You’re being cagey as hell. That man’s here for a reason, and my guess is, that reason is you.”

  Addie was quick to dispel him. “He’s not here because of me. Not in the way you’re implying.”

  “Then what way is it? I don’t mean to get all up in your business, but he caused a lot of trouble for a lot of people. If you’ve got something going with him—”

  “I don’t. God, no. Why would you even think that?”

  Matt shrugged. “I watched the two of you together earlier. I could be way off, but I’m not so sure all those feelings are dead, at least on his end. I saw the way he looked at you.”

  “He doesn’t still have feelings for me,” Addie insisted. “How could he? Until today, he hadn’t even seen me in ten years.”

  “It’s called carrying a torch.”

  “And you would be familiar with that term, since you’re dating your ex-wife.”

  He touched his bottle to hers.

  Addie couldn’t help but grin. “How is Maggie, by the way?”

  “Amber’s fine. Sends her regards. But let’s not change the subject. You say there’s nothing romantic between you and Barrow, and I believe you. There’s nothing going on yet. But you need to watch your back, Addie. He knows how to push your buttons. I don’t trust him, and neither should you.”

  “I will and I don’t. No need to worry about me.”

  “Says the woman who pursued a suspect into an empty building without backup.”

  “Trespasser. I pursued a trespasser. Not like he shot anyone.”

  “That you know of. Are you going to file a report?”

  “You know how much I hate paperwork,” Addie said with a grimace. “Besides, he’s long gone, and I doubt he’ll be back.”

  “You never know. Might be a good idea to get proactive.” Matt lifted his beer. “Ever think about installing security cameras around the perimeter of your house? If he does come back, you could catch him in the act.”

  Addie shrugged. “I like the idea, but that’s an expense I don’t need right now.”

  “They may not be as pricey as you think. My cousin sells all kinds of security equipment. I can get you a discount. And I have a buddy who owes me a favor. He’ll install them for free if you keep the beer flowing.”

  “That’s a nice offer,” Addie said. “I’ll think about it. It may not be necessary, though. As soon as the anniversary drama dies down, the crazies will crawl back into their basements. At least until next year.”

  “What do you mean, until next year? This kind of thing has happened before?”

  “Not the flower petals, but I’ve received a few anonymous letters over the years. I blame the media. They’re the ones that coined the whole Twilight’s Children thing. They created this mystical narrative around the murdered mothers and their surviving offspring, and we became these cultlike figures. You wouldn’t believe the weirdos who follow me on social media. Someone even named a rock band after us. It’s bizarre and beyond creepy.”

  Matt scowled in disapproval. “What did the letters say? And why did you never mention them before?”

  “I didn’t think they were important. Just nonsensical ramblings, usually from someone claiming to be the real Twilight Killer. Or someone claiming to be in love with the Twilight Killer. Strangely, I’ve never received a letter from anyone claiming to be James Merrick.”

  “Maybe that’s a good thing,” Matt said. “Merrick’s son did enough damage.”

  “Dead horse. Let’s not go there again.” Addie got up and went into the kitchen. “Another round?”

  “I’d better finish this one and head home.” But he seemed in no hurry to leave. “I’d still like to know what Ethan Barrow is doing in Charleston.”

  Addie rolled her eyes. “You’re really not going to leave this alone, are you? All right, just think about it for a minute. It doesn’t take a clairvoyant to figure out Ethan’s motives. He’s still looking for answers. He’s never believed his father was guilty.”

  Matt studiously picked at the beer label with his thumbnail. “Yeah, I figured. But maybe his concern runs deeper than a desire to clear dear old dad.”

  “What do you mean?”

  His gaze lifted. “You think about it, Addie. How would you feel if you were in his position? He’s not much younger than his father was when he went off the deep end. With each year that passes, Ethan has to be worried about his genes. He’s not just trying to clear his old man. He’s trying to convince himself the same thing won’t happen to him.”

  Addie had entertained similar theories over the years, but Matt’s ability to cut through the clutter and niceties hit her like a physical blow. She felt stunned, though she did her best to shrug off his reasoning. “I’m the last person to defend James Merrick, but he had a lot of outside stressors. His job, a troubled marriage, childhood abuse. Drug use, too, if the rumors are to be believed. It all came to a head during his investigation of Orson Lee Finch. Somehow he began to identify with the monster he hunted. The experts said he suffered from a kind of trauma bond that compelled him to finish the killer’s mission. Ethan has no reason to believe the same thing could happen to him.”

  “I don’t know,” Matt said. “Dude’s wound pretty tight, if you ask me. Maybe there’s more to his behavior than stubbornness or even obsession. Maybe something darker rides along with him.”

  His words chilled Addie more than she wanted to admit. “And with that, we’ve officially exhausted the subject of Ethan Barrow.” She made a production of stretching. “I think we should call it a night.”

  “Kicking me out, eh? Did I touch a nerve?”

  “No, but you already said you needed to
hit the road—”

  She broke off as a loud crash sounded outside. They drew their weapons simultaneously. Addie turned off the kitchen light and then trailed Matt to the back door.

  “Can you see anything?” she whispered.

  “Not much.” He opened the door, and they slipped through. “You need better lighting out here.”

  “The floodlight should have come on,” Addie muttered as they went down the steps together.

  The breeze had risen while they were inside. Addie thought at first a tree branch had fallen on the garage roof and taken out the security light. But the wind wasn’t that strong.

  “Matt.” She tapped his arm. “Check out the garage. The security light is broken.”

  He angled his gun and the flashlight in that direction, picking up the trail of crimson petals before shifting the light to the garage door and then up to the eaves, where nothing but a shard of glass protruded from the light socket. He tried the garage door and then shone the light through the glass panel.

  While he checked out the garage, Addie hunkered on the walkway to examine the shattered glass. “That bulb didn’t break itself.”

  “Someone deliberately took it out,” Matt said. “You still think this is all just a bad joke?”

  She glanced up. “How soon can your friend come and install those security cams?”

  * * *

  ETHAN WAS SURPRISED to find Gwen Holloway waiting for him in the lobby of his hotel when he got back from his meeting with Addie. He’d stopped for takeout, and now all he wanted to do was head upstairs, eat his sandwich and go back over Naomi Quinlan’s emails, searching for those elusive clues. Maybe Addie was right. Maybe he really was grasping at straws, but it only made sense that the genealogist would have left bread crumbs if she believed her life could be in danger.

  He thought about trying to slip past the former agent, but she was planted near the elevators, making avoidance impossible unless he exited the hotel. But that would only postpone the inevitable. She’d wait him out tonight or have her people track him down in the morning. She was that tenacious.