Fear For Me

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

After finding Karen’s body in her house, Lauren had known she’d never be able to live there again.

Now she didn’t have to worry about that. The house was gutted, the flames only now sputtering out thanks to the firefighters.

The fire had burned so hard. So fast.

He was there. He took my necklace. He’s tried to take everything.

She had the blanket around her shoulders, but she wasn’t cold. With that much heat in the air, how could anyone be cold?

Anthony had gotten patched up, only because she’d dragged an EMT over to him.

More cops swarmed the scene. Paul rushed up on his motorcycle. The guy always liked to ride it when he was off duty. He shoved down his kickstand and raced toward her.

“Lauren!” He grabbed her. Held her tight. The scent of smoke was so strong in the air. “What the hell happened?” He pushed her back. “Why are you even here?”

“She wanted her necklace.” Anthony was the one who answered. “Only the bastard was waiting for us.”

Anthony glanced back at the charred remains of the house. “Jesus,” Paul said.

“Did you find Hawthorne?” Anthony demanded.

Paul shook his head. “You can’t actually think he—”

“A Jeep Wrangler left the scene. Our killer knows the swamp. Hell, when it comes to the swamp, you told me yourself, no one knows the area like Hawthorne.”

Paul’s shoulders dropped. “He’s a friend. We’ve been friends since high school. We were on the football team together.”

“I don’t care if you were fucking frat brothers together, I want to know where he is.” Anthony’s control was gone. Burned away.

So was the ice that had protected Lauren. She was raw and desperate.

Anthony was enraged and dangerous.

“I sent a patrol by his home.” Paul swallowed. “He wasn’t there. His Jeep was gone.”

“Where is he?”

“His boss said they got a report of some nuisance gators in the area. He thinks Wesley went into the swamp to check things out.” Paul’s words tumbled out fast. “He’s just out doing his job.”

“Is he?” Doubt was heavy in the two words.

Paul straightened. “I’ll find him. His boss is gonna page him. Gonna send some men to help me go out and meet up with him, but I’m telling you…it isn’t Wesley.”

“When we find him, we’ll know for sure.”

Lauren dropped the blanket.

“Look, the task force is meeting at the station,” Paul said. “The FBI agents want you both to come in, then we can figure out what the hell our next move is.”

Anthony wasn’t moving.

“You have to come in,” Paul said, his voice almost beseeching. “The police chief ordered us all back. After this…” He threw another glance at the fire. “He wants a full rundown of every detail Greg has discovered with his tests. Come in.”

“I want Hawthorne.”

“We’ll find him!” Paul backed up a step. His hands clenched. He was wearing his riding gloves. She saw the dark outline of the gloves when his knuckles curled. “But the chief wants us there within the hour.”

Anthony stared steadily back at him. “Fine. We’ll be there.” He took Lauren’s arms. “Let’s go.”

Shock held her silent. This was it. They were just…walking away. In his car, a bubble of hysterical laughter nearly broke from her. “It’s never going to end.”

The killer would keep coming for her until she joined her sister in death.

“Yes. It fucking is.” He jerked the gearshift into reverse and spun them out of the drive. She glanced at him and saw the muscle flexing in the hard line of his jaw.

“Tony?”

He had his phone out and at his ear. “Matt? Where are you?”

She couldn’t hear the other marshal’s response, but Anthony said, “Good. We’re on the way. Call the techs. I want them to run a trace on this number.” He rattled off a telephone number. “It belongs to a Wesley Hawthorne. Yeah, the agent with Fish and Wildlife. I want to know the location of his phone. Hell, yes, the techs can figure that. If the phone is on, they can trace the signal and tell us exactly where he is.”

Her fingers hurt, and she realized it was because she had them so tightly twisted in her lap.

“I’ll be there in five minutes,” Anthony said and ended the call. The SUV started to move faster.

She swallowed to ease the dryness of her throat. She could taste the fire. “You really think it’s Wesley?”

“I think I want the cops pulling over every Jeep Wrangler that’s out on the streets tonight. I want the tags and registrations for every guy who drives a Jeep, every guy who matches Cadence’s profile.” He slanted her a fast look. “But right now, we already know Hawthorne matches that profile, so I want to know just where the hell he is.”

She wanted to know where he was, too.

“If Voyt won’t question Hawthorne, then the marshals can find him.” He flashed her a tiger’s smile. “And we’ll do the questioning on our own.”

Anthony rushed through the hotel lobby, heading fast for his old room, a room still booked in his name because he controlled the hotel block for the task force. Lauren was at his side, looking shaken and scared.

The elevator doors slid closed behind them, sealing them inside.

“There’s ash on your cheek.” He stepped toward her. Cupped her cheek. Wiped away the smear on her delicate flesh.

It could have been so much more than ash. The killer could have shot her. Burned her body. Burned us both. The house would have become our grave.

He wasn’t ready to die yet.

“I have a backup weapon in my room. I want you to take it and keep it with you.”

She nodded. “What are you planning to do?”

“If Hawthorne has used his phone in the last hour, the techs will trace it.” Big Brother was most definitely watching, in ways most people didn’t even realize. “We’ve got satellite links tracing his phone’s signal. We can pinpoint his location, and we will find the guy tonight.”

There would be no more vanishing into the swamps. No more taking prey.

Not gonna happen.

The elevator doors slid open.

He took her hand. The doors to Matt and Jim’s rooms were shut. He brushed past them and headed to his room. In less than a minute, he’d opened the safe in his closet and pulled out the backup weapon. He checked it, loaded it, and made sure that it would blow a hole in anyone dumb enough to go at Lauren.

He turned back to her.

Her head was tilted down, her blonde hair shielding her face. She looked so damn small and breakable.

The fire could have taken her from me.

No. He never would have left her alone in the fire. He couldn’t leave her.

When he’d walked away before, he’d left part of himself in Baton Rouge. The obsession hadn’t ended. It had just grown deeper, wilder.

Because it wasn’t just an obsession?

He glanced down at the gun. What the hell was he doing? Planning on dragging her out to confront a killer with him? She’d been through enough. He tucked the gun into the waistband of his jeans. “I’ll take you to the station.” She was the DA. She got her justice in a courtroom. Not in some gator-infested swamp.

At his words, Lauren’s head whipped up and her eyes locked on him. In her bright, blue stare, he didn’t see anything fragile. He saw fury. Determination. Strength.

Lauren stalked toward him closing the distance between them. “You honestly think I’ll sit back and let you go out there, after all he’s done?”

“It’s not your job to hunt—”

She shook her head and held out her hand. “Give me the damn gun.”

“Lauren…”

“My life. My sister’s life. You think I’m going to sit on the sidelines now?” Her laugh was bitter, piercing. “Hell, how do you even know that isn’t exactly what he wants? To separate us? To divide and conquer. Divide and kill? He couldn’t take us out when we were together at my house, so what if the plan now is to go at us separately?”

I want him to come at me. I just don’t want him going after you.

“Where you go, I go.” Her voice was flat, but her eyes gleamed with a combination of strength and fury that was truly the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. She was so beautiful he hurt. “I’m not backing away. I’m not running away. I am going to finish this. I owe it to Jenny to finish this.”

Lauren looked down at the gun in her hands.

He had to ask, “Could you shoot to kill if it comes to that?”

Her head tilted back so she could meet his eyes. “He stabbed my sister seventeen times.” There was no mask on her now. Raw emotion shone on her face. “Yes, I could do it. I could do it in an instant.”

Lauren was talking about revenge. He knew she deserved the justice she’d wanted for so long.

Taking a life wasn’t easy. What would killing do to her?

His fingers closed around hers. Around the weapon he’d given to her. “I will kill him for you.” A promise. He wasn’t talking about bringing the guy in. Wasn’t talking about forcing Lauren to go through a long trial and, then, Christ forbid, another situation like Walker’s.

Her lips parted in surprise. “You’re the good guy, Anthony. You catch the criminals.”

Not kill them.

But for her…to keep her safe…

He took the gun from her. Put it on the bed. Backed her up against the nearest wall and caged her with his body. He wanted her to see him exactly as he was. Far from good. Far from perfect. With a darkness inside that would always burn.

“I would do any fucking thing if it meant you were safe.” His hands flattened on either side of her head. “Don’t you know that?”

Her eyes widened.

“You matter.” He growled out the words. “You’re the thing in this world, the only fucking thing, I can’t live without. I know, I tried living without you for years, and I was so damn miserable. A hole was in my chest, and every day, I was just going through the motions. Hoping no one saw just how lost I was.”

Because when he’d left her, that was exactly what he’d been…lost.

“I went through my days, and my nights…at night, I dreamed of you. Fantasized about you. Wanted you in my bed and in my arms so fucking badly.”

His mouth took hers. He couldn’t hold back. She was there, and he needed her more than breath. The kiss was frantic and hard with the desperation that drove him. Her lips parted beneath his. His tongue thrust into her mouth.

Lauren tasted of hope, of every dream he’d ever had.

No one would take those dreams away. No one would take her away.

Her breasts pressed to his chest. He could feel the tight nipples, and he wanted them in his mouth. Wanted her naked. Wanted his cock driving into her so deeply she didn’t know what it was to be apart from him. He wanted to give her pleasure, so much pleasure that it washed away her pain.

He wanted to give her everything.

And he would.

Using all of his control, he pulled his mouth from hers. “I love you.”

Maybe he shouldn’t have snarled the words. He could have tried romance and class, dining and—

Screw that. They were surrounded by death, and he wanted her to know just how he felt.

Only now she was staring at him in shock, her mouth swollen from his kiss, her cheeks flushed, and her brilliant eyes glittering.

“I always thought love made you a better person,” he whispered to her. “That it made you good. That it was gentle and kind.” Wasn’t that what all the books said? All the sappy movies?

Lauren was still staring up at him, and he couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

So he kept talking.

“The way I feel about you isn’t…gentle.” How could he make her understand? He was screwing this up, but he had to tell her. Before anything else happened. Before another monster was at the door. “The way I feel about you—it’s wild and it’s dark. I want you with me all the time. I want your body, your heart. I want you to need me as much as I need you.”

It fucking sounded like obsession, and that wasn’t what he wanted. He was trying to explain that it was more than just a dark need. He’d discovered it was more.

Anthony sucked in a deep breath. “I want you happy.” That was love, right? Only…I’d kill to make her happy. “You’re the dream I’ve had every night for the last five years. You’re the first thing in my head each morning. When I think about my future, I want it with you.” Anything, as long as it was with her.

“Why are you telling me this now?”

The door banged a few feet away. “Ross!” It was Matt’s voice. “I got the tech on the phone! We’ve got a hit!”

Why now?

Because if something happened, and he didn’t manage to survive the killer’s attack, he wanted her to understand how he felt about her. That it wasn’t just sex, wasn’t just the lust that would never be slaked.

Matt’s fist hit the door again. “Ross!”

“Because you’re the person who matters to me. The only woman I’ve loved, and no matter what else happens, you need to know that.” He wasn’t asking her to love him back, but he wanted her to.

So badly.

He stepped away. Summoned his control once more.

And headed for the door.

“You won’t leave me behind.”

Never again.

He glanced over his shoulder and saw she’d grabbed the gun.

“I’m not afraid of what waits in that swamp.”

He knew she was, but she was still ready to face it anyway.

How could he not love her?

He yanked open the door. Matt was there, glaring at him. His fist was still up, probably because he’d been ready to pound through the wood.

“If you’re finished making out—”

Matt’s words ended in a gasp. Anthony had grabbed the guy and shoved him back. “I just crawled out of a fucking fire, dodged bullets, and was left to die.” His breath was ragged. “Don’t push, not now, and sure as hell not about her.”

Matt’s eyes widened as he hurriedly straightened his shirt. “Ah, like that, is it?”

Anthony’s hands fisted. “Yeah, it’s like that.”

Lauren crept up behind him.

Matt gave what was as close to a smile as possible. “That would explain some things…”

Anthony growled.

The whisper of a smile faded. “We got two satellite hits on Hawthorne’s phone. His first call was made about two hours ago.” He cocked his head as he delivered his news. “From a location right outside of Lauren’s house.”

It was him.

“He turned the phone off after that, but it came back on again about five minutes ago, when he made a call to our friendly neighborhood detective.”

“Paul,” Lauren whispered.

“Where was Wesley when he made the call?”

A rough sigh slipped from Matt. “It’s hard as shit for the techs to get a location out in that swamp, right? It’s not exactly easy to—”

“Where?” Matt wouldn’t be talking to him unless he knew a pretty damn close approximation.

“From what the techs could tell it looked like the guy was calling from a spot near Judge Hamilton’s place. Figures that Hamilton’s family would have built the cabin in the one location where the cell service was pristine.”

Hamilton’s place.

“I tried to contact Voyt after we made the connections on the calls.” Matt’s stare dipped to Lauren. “But he isn’t answering his phone.”

What the hell?

Jim came out of his room, heading toward them with determined steps. The guy was armed. Ready to go.

They all were.

Three marshals. One DA.

One killer.

He’d take those odds.

But he’d also stack the deck. Lauren always has to be safe.

He yanked out his phone and had Cadence on the line within seconds. “I think you’re gonna want to take a little drive to the swamp.”

The noise from the police station almost drowned out Anthony’s words. Cadence turned away from the bull pen, putting her hand over her left ear so she could hear him better.

“We got a hit on Hawthorne…” Anthony was telling her. “He just used his cell phone out at Judge Hamilton’s cabin.”

Her heart was beating too fast. She caught Kyle’s stare and inclined her head. The police chief had gone into the captain’s office. They’d just spent ten minutes trying to tear apart her profile. When they hadn’t succeeded, they’d retreated for a little powwow. They could retreat and come back to attack all they wanted.

I know my job.

“He fits your profile,” Anthony said. “His vehicle was just spotted at Lauren’s house.”

She knew that. She’d been briefed on the fire that had nearly killed Ross and the DA. “Are you all right?”

“I will be when the killer’s stopped.”

That wasn’t exactly an answer. “You don’t know it’s Hawthorne.”

“He made a call near Lauren’s house, right before the fire. He was there.”

And he did have a strong knowledge of the swamps. He’d been in the area when Jenny Chandler disappeared and his job would have taken him all around Louisiana. Into the cities and counties where the other women had vanished.

“He and Walker went to school together,” Ross told her. His voice was distorted, as if he was running or moving quickly. He’s going after Hawthorne.

She already knew Hawthorne had gone to school with Walker. “Detective Voyt went to school with both men, too. He’s not—”

“Where is Voyt? He’s there, right? Ask him why Hawthorne called him a few minutes ago, ask him—”

“Voyt isn’t here.” She spoke slowly as her gaze swept the bull pen. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen the detective.

“Fuck. He could have gone after Hawthorne on his own.”

She checked her weapon. Kyle was at her side. “You’re on your way out there, aren’t you?”

A pause. “Aren’t you?” he tossed back.

She glanced toward the captain’s closed door. “You have your men with you?”

“Damn straight.”

“I’ll meet you at the cabin.” She shoved the phone into her pocket and marched for the captain’s office. She didn’t bother knocking. She just shoved the door open.

Kyle whistled behind her.

He’d told her before he loved it when she got rough. She was about to get plenty rough.

Both men spun to face her.

“You will not be impeding our investigation any longer,” she stated as she stood firm in that doorway. “What you will be doing is shutting up, listening, and getting the hell out of my way.”

Wesley Hawthorne opened his eyes. The back of his head throbbed, hurting like a bitch, and he groaned as the pain and nausea rolled through him.

“Don’t worry, it won’t hurt much longer.”

He glanced up at the voice. At the familiar voice. Wesley shook his head in automatic denial.

A wave of nausea rose in his throat.

“I know what you’ve done, Hawthorne.”

He hadn’t done anything.

“You’ve killed women. So many women, and you’ve dumped their bodies in your swamp.”

“No,” he rasped, “I—”

“You did. And tonight, you tried to kill the DA and her lover. You went to her house. You shot at them. You set her house on fire.”

“No…”

“Neighbors saw you. They identified your vehicle. The same vehicle will later be tested by crime scene techs. They’ll find ash and debris from the fire on it, in it, tying you to the arson.”

He hadn’t been there. He’d been at a bar, Rattlesnake. He’d been drinking. He’d gone to the back parking lot…

I don’t remember what happened after that.

“You also made a phone call right before you set the fire. A phone call that will be an extra nail to prove your guilt.”

I’m not guilty. “I…never…killed…”

“When you’re found, with your head blown open and Jenny Chandler’s cross cradled in your hand, the cops won’t look for a second serial killer anymore. The cases will end, with you.”

Not me.

Something cold and hard pressed under his chin. He glanced down and could see the barrel of the gun.

“The only question I have…” the smug voice continued, “is this: Should I shoot you from this angle…” The gun rose. Pressed into his right temple. “Or should I shoot you here?”

“No!” He jerked but saw that his hands were tied to the chair. Tied but…what the fuck? Padded? Cloth was beneath the ropes on his wrists and ankles.

His heart nearly burst out of his chest. The padding was there so he wouldn’t bruise. So that when he was dead, his body could be staged. Positioned.

No one would ever know he hadn’t put the gun up to his own head.

“I actually hadn’t planned for you to wake up. It’s harder to use your own hand to fire the shot when you’re awake.”

He wants gunshot residue on my hand.

“I guess I have to make sure you’re out again. That’s kind, isn’t it? So you never see the shot coming? I can be kind.”

What the guy could be was a “Sick…fuck…” Wesley managed to say. One who’d been hiding in plain sight.

He should have been able to see the evil in their midst all along. Why hadn’t he? Why hadn’t any of them?

The face above his hardened. “I’m not the sick fuck. That’s you. You’re the one who killed and tortured all of those girls. You’re the one who did it all. The one who had to come back to the scene of his partner’s last crime because you couldn’t keep going without him.”

Wesley tried to yank free of his bonds. The judge had been bound in a chair like this. He’d fought to get free, too.

But Hamilton hadn’t escaped.

Hamilton’s blood stained the floor.

Mine will, too.

“The city will be glad to see you die.” The man lifted the gun. “I think it’s time you did just that. Go join the Butcher.”

He twisted the weapon so the butt was like a club.

Wesley tried to jerk back. Only there was no place to go.

“Don’t worry,” the man’s voice soothed. The devil’s voice. That was what it was. “The gunshot blast to the head will guarantee no one sees the bruises…”

He slammed that gun into Wesley’s head.

Dark spots swam before Wesley’s eyes. The nausea built again. Pain rolled through him, but he didn’t black out. He was fighting to hang onto consciousness with every bit of strength he had. Wesley yanked against his binds. The chair fell back.

The killer swore.

An engine growled in the distance.

The cabin was a dark, hulking shadow. Storm clouds hid the stars and the only light to shine on the area came from Anthony’s headlights as his vehicle pulled onto the graveled drive.

His headlights hit the cabin, and the Jeep Wrangler was parked right next to it.

“It sure doesn’t look like he’s hunting nuisance gators to me,” Anthony muttered.

Lauren didn’t speak. Right then, she couldn’t. We asked this man to help us. To hunt Walker.

All along, he’d been leading them in the opposite direction.

Another set of headlights lit up the scene. More marshals, arriving mere moments after them.

“I thought Paul was supposed to be here,” she finally managed, shoving down the fear in her throat. “I don’t see—”

Wait. She’d just caught a glint of light near the trees. “Is that his motorcycle?”

Anthony parked the SUV. They both hurried out of the vehicle, then joined Matt and Jim. Anthony stared at the line of trees. “That sure as hell looks like it to me.”

Where was he? The cabin was pitch-black. Everything seemed so quiet.

Too quiet.

A gunshot rang out. The sound thundered through the night and shattered the silence.

The sound had come from inside the cabin.

“Take the back door, and don’t let anyone out,” Anthony barked at his men.

Matt and Jim raced toward the back.

Even in the dark, she could feel the burn of Anthony’s gaze on her. “You stay behind me, Lauren. Every step, got it?”

“Got it.”

They ran for the cabin. When Anthony reached the front door, he kicked it open, and the wood shattered as it flew back. He hurried in with his gun up and his flashlight positioned above the weapon so he could sweep the scene.

In the circle of illumination from his flashlight, she saw Wesley Hawthorne. He was on the floor. The fingers of his right hand cradled a gun, and blood poured from the wound in his head.

Beside Wesley’s prone form, Paul had frozen, his own hands up, as he crouched over the body.