She’d always understood why, or she’d thought she did. His father, of course. But why did he shy away from close relationships?
Workaholism bandaged his insecurity. Jocelyn almost blanched with the word in her head. The weakness didn’t fit the man. But he kept his insecurity hidden, even from himself. His affair with another agent supported her theory. The woman must have welcomed her ex back after seeing the hopelessness of investing her heart in a relationship with Trevor. He must have distanced himself from her—as he’d done with Jocelyn.
She respected his flaw. She did. Who could deal with a murderer as a father? She would stumble and perhaps fall, too. Few could handle that without emotion, and if they could, Jocelyn was sure something was wrong with them, too.
But even rationalizing all of that didn’t ease the trepidation creeping over her. He didn’t want to be involved with her because of his father. Mass murderer. Killer of his mother. Mind game player.
That had to mess with a kid’s head.
Did he have no sense of family? That had to be it. What glimpse he’d had of a family unit had to have been unusual. His father must not have been home much, and he had to have had interpersonal issues. Serial killers were renowned for their intelligence. Matthew Colton may have personified himself as a normal, even charismatic man, but no one would have known him like those who shared his house.
Did she care that much? Yes. She worked with Trevor. She’d had sex with him. And then the matter of her feelings compounded the rest.
“Something on your mind?”
Jarred from staring across the room, realizing a woman sitting with a man glared at her for doing so, thinking she’d been staring at the man, Jocelyn lowered her hand from her chin, leaned back and contemplated Trevor.
Rather than take up that discussion with him now, she broached something she’d been thinking about lately. “I want to pose as bait for Regina, see if we can draw her out.”
Instantly, Trevor’s brow dived for his nose. “What? Where did that idea come from?”
She leaned forward, elbows on the table. “When your sister Annabel pieced together that the victims frequented restaurants, I got to thinking. I have long dark hair. Regina doesn’t know me. She doesn’t know I’m an FBI agent. I’m a rookie. I’m in the background in this investigation. So are you. We haven’t been in the media.”
The Alphabet Killer would pay attention to the news. She might even enjoy hearing about her work.
“No way.” Trevor shook his head. “No.”
She slapped the tabletop. “Trevor, stop trying to protect me. You’ve done that ever since I started working with you.”
“Because you have long dark hair and your name starts with a J. Really? You’d risk your life for this?”
“Wouldn’t you?” She shook her head, shaking off what he insinuated. “I won’t be a risk until I agitate her. We need a plan, a surveillance plan and a cover story. We’re getting nowhere. We need to move in, get closer and catch her!”
Trevor sighed long and hard, glancing over the diner, seeing everything. The man didn’t miss a thing, even when something distracted him like this. At last his eyes returned to her. She felt their dark intensity.
“What did you have in mind?” he asked. “Because I can tell you’ve thought about this in detail.”
She smiled. How did he, and when had he gotten to, know her so well?
“I could create a fake identity and start going out to all the local restaurants.” She looked around. “This one. All the others in town, and any outside the area. That’s something we need to research. We can’t limit the locations, but we should start with a perimeter and work with that set of establishments first.”
“What fake identity?” he asked.
“A real estate agent. There’s a vacant building at the edge of town. I contacted the owner. We can lease it.”
“What if Regina checks your background?”
She’d encountered a few criminals in her rookie days. She knew where to go to get a fake ID. But her cover had to be good. She needed Trevor and the rest of the task force on her side. He’d persuade the rest of the team to set up a sting operation. She didn’t respond. He wouldn’t agree, not easily.
He rubbed his fingers over his jaw, having shifted his position “Jocelyn.” He lowered his hand and she saw his sincerity. “This is a dangerous killer.”
“Really? I didn’t know that.”
He put his hands up as though to calm her down. “I’m not trying to be condescending.” And then his expression changed as something struck him. “Hold on a second. Why did you say we? Do you want the whole team involved?”
What else did he think? Or better yet—why did he think involving the whole team was so far-fetched? What was with him? “I’m part of this team. You’re the only one who’s against me.”
“I only mean to keep you safe—not do something foolish like put you in the path of a psychotic killer.”
“It’s not foolish. You’re being overprotective of me. Let me do my job.”
He stared at her for long seconds. “You expect me to convince them to set up a sting operation?”
“I’m an agent. Just like you. Why do you think they’ll be so hard to convince?” He was starting to make her really angry.
His lips flat-lined, assurance his patience waned. “I won’t let you pose as bait.”
“It’s not your decision to make.”
“I outrank you.”
Jocelyn had had enough. She stood, planting her hands on the table and leaning over, furious. “Damn it, Trevor, stop being so pigheaded!”
“I won’t let you do it.”
She felt like throwing something. How could she get through to him? She wouldn’t. He wouldn’t allow her to pose as bait.
Now deflated and so angry she could spit, all she wanted was to retaliate somehow, to poke back at him.
“Yeah? Well, you let me get pregnant easy enough.”
Trevor’s face turned to stone. “What?”
She wasn’t a hundred percent sure, but...
“I’m late. And I’m never late.” Regretting the outburst, she straightened and turned, walking briskly toward the exit, aware of the table next to where she and Trevor sat, watching her. They’d heard her.
Ah, entertainment.
Outside, she walked up the sidewalk, her leather work shoes soundless. She heard Trevor come up behind her. Of course he’d come after her.
Walking beside her, she felt him looking at her profile. She refused to look
