getting a chip on your shoulder, I can’t promise to play nice. Our past—”
“Won’t dictate the case.” Eric ground his teeth. Over the years, he’d made peace with what happened. Lots of prayer and extra time in the Word had helped. Some days were harder than others, but he didn’t blame Bryn for Rand’s actions, and he would work with her to catch the killer. “I’ve labored for months on this. My partner and me. I want to be the one to get this guy.”
“Where is your partner?”
“Honeymoon.” Must be nice. “Holt never mentioned you’d gone into law enforcement.”
“Why would he?”
Why would he indeed? After things crumbled—no, disintegrated—Eric hadn’t even mentioned Bryn’s name. Not to Holt. “I guess he wouldn’t.”
“You see him much?”
“Some. He helped out in a case a few months back when he was working undercover to take down a drug dealer who was a suspect in one of our cases.”
Bryn raised her chin in a nod. “Here’s my card with my email address. I’ll make sure a major case room is set aside for us. We can work from there.”
Assisting, huh? Felt like taking over. “I’ll send the case files tonight and meet you in the morning. You drink coffee?”
Bryn gave a tight-lipped smile. Was she struggling with their nearness as much as he was? Was it regret or resurfaced attraction? Because he was feeling a bit of both. Or maybe she was just loopy from the attack. The one she was shrugging off as if it hadn’t happened, which scared him a little.
“Nothing fancy. Just black with a couple creams and a sugar.”
She never had been fancy. Didn’t need to be. She stood out without all the bells and whistles. Well, minus the whistle. He chuckled again.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
She grunted. “Once we get set up in the room, we’ll need to track down Bridgette Danforth’s family. Does she have any?”
Eric inhaled the chilly air, struggling to ignore her scent that he’d once loved. “Divorced. No kids. Workaholic.”
“How long she been divorced?”
“Few years. You think her ex copycatted the other killer’s work?” Eric scratched the back of his head. “The dramatic display of laying her out looks identical to the other three, and we kept that from the public, as well as the fact he takes a token of jewelry. Bridgette is missing an earring.”
“Could have come out during the struggle or if he dragged her.” She touched her own earlobes. Two simple gold studs in each ear.
“No drag marks. But maybe.” Or the killer had taken a trophy like he had with the others.
Bryn scanned the area, ignoring the shouts from the media begging for a statement and asking if she was the new lead on the case. Eric’s ears heated. He swallowed his pride. He had to. He needed some assistance.
“I don’t want to make any assumptions. Not until I’ve read the files.”
Cautious. That was new. Anything else new? He glanced at her left hand. No ring. His was achingly bare, too. Or maybe she didn’t carry the ache of their failed relationship. But then, he knew that wasn’t true. The way it had ended between them had affected more than just their hearts. Two families bore the pain.
“I doubt the man who roughed you up was her husband. Which brings me to the fact we can’t ignore.” He stressed the word ignore. “Did he say anything directly to you?”
Bryn cleared her throat and scuffed her toe along the ground. “Besides some nasty name-calling, apparently, I have no business here, and if I don’t watch my back, I might end up like the other four victims.”
Why would the killer follow her? If he’d been on the scene watching all along, what made her his focus? Was it chance? She did go off alone. But why come at her? Here? “That makes you a target, Bryn. Where are you staying?” Eric wasn’t going to risk this guy attacking her again. He couldn’t.
“Holt’s letting me shack up in his rental for a while. At least until I can settle in. Why?” Her tone carried wariness.
“Is he staying there with you?”
“No, but I carry a gun, and I know how to use it.”
What if the attacker got to her before she could get to her gun...again? Her cousin was a DEA agent, and if he was in between cases Eric had full confidence that Bryn would be safe. Holt was pretty hard-core. “Maybe you should have Holt stay with you.”
“Maybe you should get me those case files.”
Hardheaded woman. Some things never changed. Not only did he have to worry about solving this case, which had been nagging him for months, but now keeping Bryn safe nipped his heels. “At least let me follow you home. Make sure no one is tailing you.”
“’Cause I can’t spot a tail?” She glared and whipped her hand into the air, brushing him off.
“Because this guy’s no joke. He’s gutsy. I don’t want him finding you alone again. Do you?”
She raised her chin. Unease darted through her eyes, softening her tough exterior. “I wasn’t prepared for that. I am now. I can take care of myself, Eric.”
He didn’t doubt it. She was strong-minded and strong physically, with a swimmer’s body, but Bryn was in danger.
She matched his stare. Nope. The woman wasn’t going to change her mind. If she wanted to go it alone, fine. He’d tail her without permission. Watch her get inside safely. And pray with extra fervor.
Sleep hadn’t come for Bryn. For those first few moments in the park, she wasn’t sure if she was going to live or die. This was the very reason SAC Towerman had requested she see the bureau therapist. She hadn’t had time to see one in Ohio because of the quick transfer after her surgery and recovery from the gunshot wound.
But she’d fought last night in the park. Just like in Ohio. And she’d survived.
Only because Eric had shown up. What if he hadn’t? She had to believe that she’d have retrieved her complete mental faculties and escaped, taking the attacker down. However, it hadn’t stopped every crack and pop in her house from keeping her wide-awake, adrenaline racing until she broke out into a sweat.
The only thing comforting about the night at all was cuddling with her golden retriever pup. She’d stopped by Sport’s Authority to purchase a new bathing suit after joining a nearby gym with a pool, and she hadn’t been able to resist the puppy. The pet adoption agency had set up in the parking lot, and this fluffy, blond pup had barked his way into her heart.
After consuming half a pot of coffee and walking her new little love, she’d come on in to set up a major case room. Table. Whiteboard. Space to tack maps
