Target (A prequel Story) Read online

  He hadn’t put much stock in hope, not for a long time. He didn’t want to think the worst, but Andrea James didn’t have anything left to put her faith in. Not anymore, and not if they couldn’t find something that might lead them to her.

  And it was all Liam’s fault.

  Caisey grabbed his arm and pulled him into the hall. “This isn’t your fault.”

  He almost smiled. “Why would you think that?”

  His partner rolled her eyes. “Puh-lease. We’ve worked together for three years. Tell me you’re not wondering what might have happened if you’d been thirty-seconds earlier out of the gym.”

  Liam folded his arms. “It’s better than resigning myself to the fact that she was as good as dead already and there was nothing I could’ve done.”

  “I’m sorry you couldn’t help her.” Caisey paused a beat. “I’m sorry that of all the people in the city it had to be her that he picked as his next victim.”

  “I am too.”

  Caisey hesitated. “But maybe…”

  “Don’t say it.”

  “It’s just…I don’t know. Maybe it’s a blessing you don’t really know her.”

  Liam looked at the ceiling for a moment. “Sure, if she hadn’t just been abducted by a serial killer.”

  “Okay, yeesh. So this isn’t about it being Andrea of all people. It’s really just because you were there, and powerless to do something?”

  “My neighborhood. My neighbor. It shouldn’t make a difference who it was.” Even though it kind of did. “She’s still a human being who deserves our best effort.”

  “Agreed.” But Caisey clearly didn’t buy it, mostly because he wasn’t selling. She just wanted to know exactly how torn up he was about Andrea—he knew that much about his partner after three years.

  “We’re not going to find her.”

  “We might.”

  He gritted his teeth. “Not before it’s too late. If he knows we’re on his tail he’s just going to fast-track it. There won’t be ten days before he’s done. Not if there’s a chance he could get caught.”

  Caisey glanced aside for a moment. When she looked back at him there was a spark in her eyes. “Unless he thinks there isn’t a chance.”

  Yeah, because Liam really needed to entertain the idea of Andrea James going through what the other victims had.

  “Let’s just go, okay? It’s not like we’re going to find her standing around here.”

  **

  Liam snapped up the phone. “Conners.”

  “It’s Grams, ducky. Is Caisey about?”

  He slumped back in his chair and transferred the call to Caisey’s extension. Her elderly grandmother dialed the wrong number and got his desk enough that it didn’t even bother him anymore, even if it was barely seven a.m.

  While Caisey chatted with her Grams, Liam ran a hand down his face. His eyes were hot and gritty and the coffee in the office was like drinking molasses. He preferred it light and vanilla flavored, but no one else seemed to appreciate his good taste.

  He clicked on the file and looked—again—at Andrea James. She didn’t even smile for her driver’s license photo.

  “You’re staring at her.”

  Liam gritted his teeth. Caisey couldn’t see the screen on his monitor from where she sat. “I’m working.” Liam glared at his partner. “Or is that a federal crime now, too?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I’m going to let that slide because you’re stressed out. But I’d like to point out at this juncture that, given your involvement, your guilt is now driving your need to solve this case.”

  She didn’t know the half of it. This wasn’t the first time Liam could’ve stopped someone from dying. That time hadn’t turned out well either, and now Liam would have two deaths on his conscience.

  His face hurt from clenching his jaw all night. He’d been inches from her when he’d touched the van’s back light and it meant absolutely nothing. And if Andrea’s disappearance tracked the way all the others had, they wouldn’t find anything. In a couple of weeks her body would be discovered and the hunt for the Chloroform Killer would continue.

  And he’d never even spoken to her.

  He’d never even approached her and struck up a conversation, let alone asked her out. He could’ve done it a hundred times, but something always held him back. They might have had something great. True, it could just as easily have gone nowhere, but he’d never even tried. All because he was too busy.

  Liam tossed his pen on the desk. “What do we have?”

  “Fingerprints in the van.”

  “Which won’t belong to the killer.”

  “Surveillance video.”

  “Which told us basically nothing.”

  “What about her apartment? Email, phone records. The photo.” Caisey looked at the papers on her desk. “The technicians who went through her apartment are getting me a timeline of his contact with Ms. James.”

  Liam’s stomach turned over. Nothing this guy had done yet had ever left a trail. Victims were often stalked, but rarely did he make direct contact before he abducted them, so far as the evidence indicated at least. Email and phone records in each case hadn’t turned up anything.

  The photo at Andrea’s apartment was new.

  “Look, we work this like we work everything. One piece of evidence at a time until we find something we can run with.”

  Was she trying to placate him? Liam didn’t suppose it would affect the outcome whether she was or not.

  Caisey stood. “You want more coffee.” Revulsion churned through him and must have shown on his face, because she laughed. “Never mind.”

  Liam checked his email, but there was nothing new. Any test results would take longer than a few hours to get back to them, but the clock was ticking on Andrea James’ life. And he was still sitting here.

  Caisey set her mug down, steam curling up from the coffee. Between the two of them they should be able to find something. Or, that should be the case. But with a whole team of agents and months of work they still didn’t have a clue who the Chloroform Killer was. Or why he only targeted women in their twenties, with no other discernable correlations.

  Before yesterday, Liam had been able to affect at least a semblance of distance between him and the victims—I don’t like that word. It hardly seemed right to call someone helpless who was going through something that forced you to be strong even when you were broken.

  Now things were unavoidably personal, and Liam didn’t want to admit he was having trouble staying detached. Empathy did not help you catch a serial killer. In this job, you had to leave it at home.

  His phone rang; the number for the local police department.

  “Conners.”

  “It’s Sergeant Tucker. Ms. James’ next of kin just got back to me. I hope you’re up for a road trip.”

 

  Chapter 3

  THE ROAD TRIP turned out to be a twenty minute drive down to Castlewood, a suburb of Denver. Caisey still insisted on stopping for Starbucks on the way, like she hadn’t had four cups of coffee already. Since they were both coasting on little more than fumes, Liam didn’t gripe too much. It wouldn’t be long before they’d have to re-charge.

  The address the Sergeant had given him was a mansion. He hadn’t known what to expect of Mr. and Mrs. James when they arrived. Especially given the police had informed them already that their daughter was missing—suspected of having been abducted by a known serial killer. But this wasn’t it.

  “Thank you.” Liam nodded to the butler, or waiter, or whoever the guy was with the pressed suit who set the china cup on the table.

  Caisey sat beside him, perched on the edge of the silk-covered settee like she was worried she’d get dirt on the furniture. Given how much she was shifting around, the damage was likely already done.

  Mr. James had one leg of his Armani suit crossed over the other, his armchair a perfect match for the sitting room decor. His dark brown hair didn’t have a strand of gray, despite his d
rivers’ license putting him at sixty-five. His attention was on his iPad, and had been since they’d entered the residence.

  It was Mrs. James who’d answered the door, in a floor-length white gown she may or may not have been wearing all night given that it was rumpled and she smelled like gin. Her nose was permanently scrunched—likely to the dismay of her plastic surgeon—in what appeared to be a concerted attempt to remain upright. She also didn’t speak until she sat, given it probably took all of her concentration to ambulate from the front door to the receiving room.

  Liam glanced between them. “When was the last time you spoke with your daughter?”

  “A few weeks, maybe?” Mrs. James looked at her husband. “What do you think, darling?”

  “What?” Mr. James glanced up and his wife repeated the question. He looked at Liam. “Andrea and I had dinner two weeks ago.”

  “Dinner, where? And why didn’t I know about this?”

  Caisey shifted again. Liam wanted to kick her like two kids under the table at Thanksgiving, but that never went unnoticed. So these people cared more about their own squabble than the fact that their daughter had been abducted by a serial killer—it wasn’t up to Liam and Caisey to give them a lesson in familial love.

  Liam took a sip of his tea. Caisey had left hers untouched, but only because she drank exactly one kind and this wasn’t it. Liam gave them a couple of minutes to have their muttered squabble, which quickly dissolved into tutting and a curled lip from Mrs. James.

  When he figured they’d had enough time, Liam broke into their stalemate. “When you spoke with your daughter, Mr. James, did she give any indication she felt she was being followed, or watched?”

  “Of course not. No. Andrea would have told me if she thought she was in danger.”

  Was that the truth? It could be that the man was just adept at compartmentalizing his life to the point he seemed permanently detached. Liam turned to the wife. “And you, Mrs. James? Did your daughter give you any indication she felt threatened the last time you spoke with her?”

  She perked up and shot him a weathered beauty-queen smile. “I’m not sure I can remember.” Mr. James snorted; his attention once again on his iPad. The woman’s smile fractured at the edges, but she persisted. “It was a few weeks ago.”

  “You and Andrea aren’t close?” Caisey’s opinion was present in her voice. She didn’t tend to warm toward people who ignored their families—Liam knew some of that long story—and she didn’t particularly like rich people either. No wonder it had taken her so long to warm up to him being her partner.

  Mrs. James kept her attention on Liam. Was her perfect posture just for his benefit? “My daughter is a complicated woman. She inherited that, among several other things, from her father. We have not always seen eye to eye, but we do talk. At least as much as her schedule allows.” She shot her husband a glance. “Although apparently it does allow for dinner engagements.”

  Mr. James sighed. “I was downtown. It was spur of the moment, not that I am required to explain myself to you. Andrea and I enjoy spending time together. We had sushi. You were busy, if I recall.”

  Mrs. James’ reaction indicated she might well have been indisposed. Liam figured drunk off her posterior was probably it.

  “Are you aware of anyone in Andrea’s life who might have a reason to harm her?” It tasted bitter, saying her name, but warmth still flared in his chest.

  The couple looked at each other, sharing something for the first time since Liam and Caisey arrived. Liam glanced from one to the other. “Mr. James? Mrs. James?”

  Mrs. James smoothed the wrinkles in her dress.

  Mr. James set his iPad on the coffee table and folded his arms. “There is no one in the world who would want to harm Andrea.”

  “Why would they?” Mrs. James shrugged one delicate shoulder. “Andrea is the best person we know.” Her smile cracked and tears filled her eyes. “Who would want to hurt her?”

  “Now, dear.” Mr. James reached over and patted her on the knee, but held himself back. “I’m sure this is all some misunderstanding. Andrea will be fine.”

  Liam pressed his lips together.

  “That’s really what you think?” Caisey shifted; her back straight for once, instead of slouched. “Your daughter was abducted by a known serial killer, and we have exactly nine days before her body will be discarded for someone to find.”

  Liam didn’t need that visual, but there it was. He’d been to each of the crime scenes so far. He wasn’t looking forward to going to this one. Not when he knew what Andrea was like whole.

  Like his sister.

  Caisey sighed, her ire apparently burned out. “I’m sorry we have to be the ones to tell you this. I’m sure the police explained everything that is going on. And I’m sorry for your loss, but she is lost. There is little hope that your daughter will be found alive.”

  Caisey took a breath. “The likelihood is that your daughter knew this man. And unless you can think of someone in her life who might have done this, or anything she said to you that might indicate she was aware she was being targeted, then I’m afraid we shouldn’t take any more time here that could be better spent following up on leads elsewhere.”

  And that was putting it nicely. Liam was kind of proud of his partner, since her tendency was to be a whole lot more blunt than that speech. She’d actually been sort of eloquent—for Caisey.

  They stood and Liam buttoned his suit jacket. Mr. James’ attention caught on the pin on Liam’s lapel. “Harvard, eh?”

  Liam shook his hand. “Yes, sir. You’ll call us if you think of anything further?”

  When he got a nod, Liam handed over his card, which Mr. James slid into the pocket of his pants. He followed Caisey down the hall to where the waiter/butler guy held the door open for them, chewing his lip. Liam stopped.

  The butler glanced at the sitting room Andrea’s parents had stayed in, and then whispered, “Find her. Please?”

  Liam couldn’t offer platitudes that would bring up the bile lodged in his throat. He held the guy’s gaze and nodded, which seemed to satisfy him, and handed over another of his business cards.

  Liam started the car and immediately punched the off button for the radio. He didn’t like Caisey’s country hits at the best of times, and definitely not now.

  She crossed her arms and huffed. “Can you believe those people? Not a tear or a single sniffle in the place and their daughter’s as good as dead.”

  Liam’s stomach churned. “Thanks.”

  “I’m serious. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it right in front of my face.”

  “Isn’t it you always telling me not to be surprised when people aren’t inherently good? We’re all selfish sinners, or whatnot?”

  Liam didn’t agree, since there was no way everyone in the world was bad. His sister had been the best person he knew until she took her own life. There was no way Bethany could be called evil like some of the people they met.

  Caisey glanced over. “Fine. Throw my words back in my face. But you’d think parents who just found out what they did would be a little more upset. I mean, how many times did we interview someone who could barely talk they were crying so hard?”

  “People don’t process their grief in the same way.”

  “People don’t all have feelings in the same way either.”

  Liam nudged her with his elbow. “Yeah, you would know.”

  “Yes I would.” Caisey chuckled. “That whole thing was pretty funny in a tragic, I- want-to-cry-now, kind of way. You know, if I was the kind of person who actually cried.”

  Liam drove toward the office. It was after lunch, but he didn’t expect to be hungry for about a month.

  Caisey shifted in her seat. “They were definitely hiding something.”

  Liam pulled into a parking space outside the Denver FBI office. “You think everyone is hiding something.”

  “They are.”

  “Even you?”

  Caise
y’s chin lifted a fraction. “Uh, yeah.”

  “What are you hiding?”

  “I think it would be more interesting to know what you’re hiding.”

  Liam brushed it off. “I’m not hiding anything.”

  “Nice try. For the record, I don’t buy it.”

  “Maybe you should try looking on the bright side?”

  He might not be able to manage it right now, but one of them looking up couldn’t hurt.

  Caisey pushed the door open. “Please. An optimist would assume everything is going to work out and Andrea James is going to turn up without a scratch on her. I’ve read all the reports, just like you. That’s impossible. It’s just not—”

  Liam stopped when Caisey did and followed her gaze to the woman waiting at the security checkpoint—a redhead without a smile on her face. In fact, she looked kind of mad.

  What on earth?

  Andrea James strode toward them, stopped and put one hand on the hip of her slim- cut business suit. “Am I to take it from the looks on your faces that you two are the ones responsible for the mess in my apartment?”

  Liam blinked. She really was here. That meant...

  “And what’s this insane story about me having been abducted by a serial killer?”

  Liam’s body came unstuck. He moved toward her and Andrea’s eyes widened, but he didn’t stop.

  He wrapped her up in his arms and hugged her.

  Chapter 4

  ANDREA’S FIRST REACTION was to push him away, but the feeling of someone bigger and stronger with their arms around her penetrated before she could stop it. Not that it was him, of course. Just that it had been so long since anyone hugged her.

  Years even.

  Her arms came up and she gave him a gentle squeeze. The FBI agent must have taken that for a sign, because he let her go and stepped back. A chill crept in and Andrea pulled her wool overcoat tighter around her. His cheeks were flushed. Had she ever seen a man blush?

  She held her hand out. “I’m Andrea James.”

  It was the woman beside him who slapped her hand into Andrea’s and said, “Caisey Lyons. This is my partner, Special Agent Liam Conners. He was the one who witnessed your abduction.”