Falling Hard and Fast (26 page)

“Are you expecting him?”

She hesitated.
She was,
she assured herself firmly. “Yes, soon I hope.”

“Mind if I wait for him?”

She held the door open in invitation.

 

The desire to go to Zoey warred with a healthy dose of sheer apprehension. Her note was in his pocket. Its message was less easy to tuck away. Deliberately, he forced his mind back to the events of the day.

Folding his hands behind his head, he leaned back in his chair. Instead of trying to still the niggling doubts about the case's solution, he opened his mind, let them spill out, to be sorted through one at a time. Something was still nagging him strongly about the case, and it wasn't going to leave him be until he considered it from all angles.

If he didn't like Donny Ray as the suspect in Janice Reilly's murder, it meant her killer was still at large. But that wouldn't mean he wasn't any closer to identifying the killer than he had been yesterday. Not at all.

Because someone would have had to plant that false nail on Donny Ray. Someone with a reason to direct their attention elsewhere.

It went to figure that the someone was probably the killer himself.

Frigid fingers of ice traced up Cage's neck. The killer lived in the parish; had to. He'd known the woods well. Janice Reilly's body had been left in the wooded area near the river; Donny's body had been discovered in the woods. A stranger in Charity aroused talk. This would be someone accepted. Maybe even looked up to.

Someone who seemed above suspicion.

Despite the chill creeping over his skin, sweat popped out on Cage's forehead. He wished he knew more about the disposal of the other murder victims. Because suddenly the arrangement of Janice Reilly's body took on a horrifying significance. Her hand had been nailed to the tree in a macabre greeting. Was it intended for the unfortunate soul who
would discover the body? Or the man most likely to investigate the murder?

His mind was racing now, thought fragments forming too rapidly to complete them. He stared fiercely into space, ideas formulating, shifting; details clicking into place. He shook his head hard once, as if to rid it of the awful suspicion that had lodged there. It didn't help.

The idea was too horrible to contemplate. But his next thought seized the heart in his chest in a vise grip. Because if there was the remotest possibility he was right, he already knew who the next victim would be.

Panic layered with dread circled in his gut. He sprang from his chair and charged through the office. Patsy looked up at him in amazement.

“Call all the men to duty. Now. Tell them it's red alert. And send a backup unit to Zoey Prescott's place.”

 

“What's keeping Cage?”

Zoey shrugged. “The office, I suppose.”

“Someone's going to have to teach that boy what all work and no play does to a body.” Tanner shrugged out of his raincoat. “Where should I put this so it doesn't drip on your floor?”

She resumed cutting up the chicken. “Out on the back porch.” She was about to point the way, when he walked by her in the right direction.

“Now.” He re-entered the kitchen and stood looking around. “Put me to work.”

“Do you have any experience in the kitchen, Beauchamp?”

He grinned. “Actually…no. But I do work well under supervision.”

“Okay.” She turned around and gestured to the vegetables she had set on the counter. “Get yourself another knife and chop those up. Careful with your fingers.”

“Sweet Zoey, ‘careful' is my middle name.”

Busying herself making a sauce to marinate the chicken
in, she listened to Tanner with half an ear. His stories about the mischief he and Cage had gotten into over the years made her smile. The tales of their exploits in high school had her shaking her head. But his constant patter soothed nerves that had been jumping and quaking all day. Until the talk turned to the day's excitement.

“Guess you heard about Donny Ray hanging himself today.”

“No.” Shock clutched her throat. “I hadn't heard.”

He gave an easy shrug. “No big loss, if you ask me. But the biggest surprise was they think they can link him to Janice Reilly's murder.”

She leaned against the counter for support. “You're kidding! Is that what Cage believes?”

“Hard to tell what Cage is thinking right now. But he's a smart guy. Maybe not as smart as me—” his teeth flashed immodestly “—but smart, all the same. He'll put things together soon enough.”

She was still reeling at the news. “I had no idea. How did they connect Donny Ray to the murder?”

“Seems he had something on him he'd taken from the victim. It's said killers like to take souvenirs of their kills.” His voice slowed, went a little dreamy. “I hear tell they take out their trophies and relive the thrill. Do you like souvenirs, Zoey?”

Something about the man's manner disturbed her. She glanced at the clock, wondered how much longer Cage would be. “I'm not much for tokens, no.”

“Really? Then this doesn't mean anything to you at all?” He turned to face her, and from his fingers dangled her locket.

She stared at it, nonplussed. “Where did you get that?” She would have liked to snatch it away from him, but an inexplicable thread of caution warned her to stay where she was.

He closed his fingers around it again and slipped it into his pocket. “You're a very sound sleeper, you know.” He
grinned. “So is that puppy of yours. The lock on your back door wasn't much of a challenge.” When he took a couple of steps toward her, she backed away, her eyes fixed on his face.

“I almost took even more that night.” He threw his head back, let himself relish the memory. “It would have been so easy as I stood over your bed, watching you sleep. But anticipation makes the prize all the sweeter. No matter how many times I was tempted, I held back until the time was right. The time
is
right, Zoey. You know that, don't you?”

Casually he picked up the butcher knife he'd been using, and moved toward her.

She put the table between them, her hands shaking, ice crawling through her veins.
Cage had been wrong.
Her temples throbbed with disbelief. Janice Reilly's murderer
was
in their midst. He was standing in her kitchen. It was as if the novel still taking shape in her mind had sprung to sudden, vivid life. “Don't be a fool, Tanner. Cage will be here at any moment.” Perhaps if she wished hard enough, her words would come true.

His smile was curiously detached. “I'm counting on it.” And he stalked her with slow, deliberate steps.

It took all her strength to summon logic from the nasty, panicked pool of emotions. What was important to a sick twisted individual like this? Power? Control? She desperately needed a way to divert his attention so that she could make her escape.

“I'm not afraid of you, Tanner.”

“Really? How curious.” He licked the edge of the blade and blood welled on his tongue. He grinned at her—a macabre grimace that lacked human emotion. “I guess that's your first mistake.”

She gave a mighty shove of the table, turning it over in front of him, and made a dash for the door. The blade was at her throat before she got out of the kitchen. “You're going to be the best of them all,” he whispered in her ear. “
They
didn't want to be pure, but you do, don't you? I'm
going to purify you, Zoey. And this time it's going to be…perfect.” He pulled her to the counter, forcing her to lean back against him.

“I learned about purifying the sinning spirit from my dear old daddy, did I tell you that?” The knife point under her chin pressed menacingly.

“No.” The word was barely audible.

“My bitch of a mother left the sick old bastard. Guess she didn't want to be purified, but she left a little something behind. Namely me. So I was pretty damn
pure
by the time he'd kicked off. He made sure of that.” For the first time emotion crept into his voice. Frightening emotion. Rage.

“Drop the knife, Tanner.”

Zoey's knees almost buckled with relief when she heard Cage's voice, saw him enter the room in a crouch, gun pointed.

One quick glance assured Cage that Zoey was all right. For the time being. “I can make sure you get help, Tanner. But it has to end now.”

“As usual, ol' friend, I have to agree with you.” He grinned at Cage over Zoey's head, as casual as if they were sharing a beer in Jonesy's; as if he wasn't holding a knife to Zoey's throat. “I'm good, but sooner or later someone was going to catch up with me. I decided there is nobody I'd rather match wits with than you. I planned the whole thing carefully. I think you'll agree, it's really quite brilliant.”

Cage felt encased in a nightmare he couldn't wake up from. This was Tanner. The man who was like a brother to him. The one who knew him better than anyone else. The one he was just beginning to understand he'd never known at all.

Tanner took the blade and pressed the flat end against Zoey's skin, running it over her cheek. “'Course, I gave you more than a running start. Thought I was going to have to draw a diagram for you, but you finally put all the pieces together, didn't you, son? I'm a little disappointed it took
you so long, but I suppose even a supercop's instincts would be a bit dulled after being out of the city for so long.”

His instincts had been dulled, Cage thought sickly, by his failure to consider his friends and acquaintances as suspects. Even now the reality was hard to comprehend.

“I'm not going to let you hurt her, Tanner.”

Zoey watched Cage circle slowly to keep them in his sight, countering every move of Tanner's with one of his own, and felt a lick of despair. There was no way he could get a clear shot. Not with Tanner holding her so close. Not with the emotion that must be tearing at Cage's heart.

She moved her head, and felt the prick of the knife. She thought of the other knife she'd used to cut up the chicken only a few feet away.

Tanner tightened his arm around Zoey's neck. “Does this remind you of anything, Cage, m'boy?” The blade nicked her skin and she jerked helplessly. Cage's hand tightened on the gun, his eyes never leaving Tanner.

“No? What about Amy Lou Travers? Does her pretty face still haunt you at night? I'm betting it does. You always had a nagging conscience. I always figured it was a helluva lot more comfortable not have one at all.” He dragged Zoey backwards until the wall was at his back. “How was he holding Amy Lou at the end? Like this, wasn't it?”

It took effort for Cage to keep his hand steady. Tanner's voice was an evil, insidious echo of the guilt and regret he kept tucked away. “Remember, Cage? Amy Lou thought you'd save her, too, but she was wrong, wasn't she?”

Her eyes had been wide, hope and despair battling wildly there. Neesom had shielded his body with hers, holding the knife pressed to her throat.

Cage saw the direction of Zoey's gaze, gave a sharp shake of his head. She didn't have a chance of getting to the other knife before Tanner cut her.

“You still a sharpshooter, son?” Tanner grinned at him over Zoey's shoulder. “Let's see how good you are. You
were a second too late for Amy Lou, weren't you? You wouldn't make the same mistake twice. Or could you?”

Zoey's eyes met Cage's. He knew she was recalling the memory he'd recounted for her. Knew the doubt and fear that must be battling inside her. He shifted a bit, steadied his gun hand, and swallowed, wishing the memories could be banished.

One instant. Just a second's hesitation to figure whether he could make the shot… Whether he should take the risk.

His throat felt dry and rough. He needed to clear his head. He couldn't afford to take his eyes from Tanner. This wasn't New Orleans. It wasn't going to happen again. It couldn't.

He saw Zoey look at the other knife again, then at him.

The gun and the knife had been used almost simultaneously. The woman's blue eyes had widened in shock, before going lifeless, falling beneath the weight of the man's body.

No, not blue. With effort he shook the vision from his mind. Zoey's eyes were green. She was looking at him now, trying to determine whether her best chance lay with him or in a desperate lunge for the knife. She twisted in her captor's grasp.

It was Tanner's body partially visible behind Zoey, as he easily overpowered her struggles. Not Neesom's. It was Tanner's voice echoing the words that screamed across his mind.
“Amy Lou…”

The sound of the gunshot in the small room was deafening. The cold blade bit against Zoey's skin, before Tanner's grip loosened, released her.

Cage kept his gun pointed at the man on the floor even as his free arm reached for Zoey, pulled her to him tightly.

Tanner pressed his hand over the hole in his chest, looking dazed at the amount of blood seeping through his fingers. Then his gaze reached Cage's, as void of feeling as the smile on his lips. “Did I ever tell you what really happened to Tooner?” His wild, eerie laugh was still sounding as sirens filled the air.

Z
oey appreciated the comforting presence of Jed and Sully, but had refused to let them persuade her to go home once she'd given her statement. She was determined to wait for Cage, for as long as that took. Finally the two had shrugged, given up their efforts, and propped themselves against the wall.

When Cage entered the office, he looked fatigued and heartsick. But his arms were welcoming when Zoey walked into them, and held her close.

Her grip was just as strong. He'd lost so much today, in the space of a few minutes, it was a wonder to her that he was still standing at all.

Jed cleared his throat from across the room. “Guess you've got the guy taken care of?”

Cage released Zoey reluctantly, but kept her at his side with one arm looped around her waist. “He'll be under heavy guard at the nearest hospital until he can be moved. After that—” she felt, rather than saw, his slight flinch “—
it'll be up to the courts. I figure they'll want to order tests to see if he's fit for trial.”

“We heard some of the deputies talking,” Sully said. “Have you figured out his connection with that homicide victim found here a while back?”

With subtle nudging, Zoey managed to move Cage across the room and into a chair. He gave a slight tug, and pulled her into his lap.

“Actually, we've tentatively connected Tanner to eight murders, and from some of the things he said, I'm wondering if we shouldn't investigate as far back as his college years.”

“What in hell turns a man as twisted as that?” muttered Jed.

“He was horribly abused by his father,” Zoey said, meeting Cage's gaze.

“More than I ever suspected,” Cage affirmed. “I mean, we were always getting into trouble when we were kids. My second home was the woodshed. But with Tanner's daddy…” His jaw tightened. “Old Jean-Paul drove off his pretty young wife when Tanner was just a baby, probably with his treatment of her. With her gone, there was no buffer between him and Tanner.”

“Tanner blamed his mother for that,” Zoey added. “It was clear in what he said to me. But…why punish innocent victims for something his parents did to him?”

Cage brushed his lips over her hair. “That's one for those fellas in the Behavioral Science Unit, honey. I suspect he killed his first victim by accident, in a fit of rage. And after discovering how much he liked it…” He took a deep, shuddering breath. Better not to think of the animal they were discussing as Tanner. Better not to remember the years they'd spent together—the secret Tanner had carried.

Cage's voice was hoarse when he continued. “I imagine he improved on his style a little more each time. I do believe that with each murder, he was punishing his mother for leaving him to be abused by Jean-Paul.” He reached out to
pull Zoey closer. “Once he decided to include me in his plans, you were in danger because of your relationship to me.”

Sully looked at him. “You think he intended to get at you all along?”

“He was a planner.” Cage tried for a weary smile, didn't quite pull it off. “And every time, he'd try for a bigger thrill, take more risks. What could up the stakes higher than going head-to-head with the man who knows him better than anyone else?”

Jed was clearly trying to put the pieces together. “So what does this have to do with the hanging?”

“Tanner threw us Donny Ray as a solution to the murder, all wrapped up nice and neat. He had a violent past, he was involved with drugs…I suspect Tanner forced him at gunpoint to write the note, planted one of the victim's fingernails on him and made him hang himself. One of my deputies brought in Billy McIntire, a fella who wanders the woods around here. I thought he might have seen something today, but turns out what he witnessed was Tanner disposing of Janice Reilly's body. He was afraid no one would believe him if he came forward.”

Zoey was shaking her head against his chest. She felt good in his arms, pressed up against him like this. It reminded him of his vow to keep her near. He dipped his head. “What is it, sugar?”

“I still don't understand how you knew I was in danger. I thought—I hoped you would come, but I wasn't sure.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, remembering the stray thought he'd had about postponing their meeting. “I was putting it all together, probably just the way Tanner meant me to. Earlier today Fern Sykes had described a car like Tanner's hidden near the woods.” He hadn't wanted to believe what that might mean. He still didn't.

Sully looked at Jed. “Can't say things don't stay interesting around him.”

Cage tipped Zoey's chin, considered her mouth. Touching
her seemed to be his only line to sanity right now. He smoothed a finger over her jaw and let himself concentrate on her lovely face. “Stick around. They're about to get more interesting.”

Jed cleared his throat and the two men drifted to the opposite side of the room.

Zoey looked into Cage's eyes and a breath shuddered out of her. “I've never been so scared.”

His hand stroked her hair soothingly. “I know, sweetheart. But you did…great. I was so afraid you were going to go for that knife. You didn't stand a chance.”

“I considered it. But in the end, I guess I had to trust you, after all. I thought if I could just get him to change position a bit, you'd have a better shot.”

Her reward for the words was a bruising kiss, which turned softer and lingered. When their lips parted, he whispered huskily, “I believe you had something to tell me.”

“You know, kids,” Sully informed them politely, “that's what back seats are for.”

“Stuff it.” Cage's eyes were gleaming. “Every guy is entitled to a little romance at his big moment.”

“Is that what you're after, Gauthier?” asked Zoey, her head tilted back to look up at him.

He recognized that glint in her eye. His smile was a slow lazy promise. “I fall for it every time.”

 

The wedding was going to go off without a hitch. It was, Cage assured himself. But that didn't explain the clutch of nerves in his stomach, or the sweat on his brow.

Julianne Sullivan smiled at him, not without pity. “Stop fidgeting, honey. Everything's fine.”

He sent a quick grin at the blond woman, recognizing the teasing light in her eyes. “I'm not nervous.”

“Of course you aren't.” Laughter danced in her wide brown eyes and she crossed the small room in back of the church with lazy grace. “Because there's absolutely no reason to be.” She curled a hand around his nape and pulled
his face down for a light kiss. “That's for luck, which you don't need. And a belated welcome to the Sullivan family.”

Cage rested his hands on her shoulders, bared by the long gown she was wearing. He gave her a light squeeze. “Thanks, sweetheart. I gotta tell you, so far the Sullivan women are the best part of this family.”

Jed raised a brow. “Is that why you have your hands on my wife?” Cage was astute enough to hear the warning in the even words so he gave Julianne another quick kiss, and grinned at his older brother's reaction.

“My turn.” The mound of Ellie's stomach was only a slight obstacle between them, as Cage dropped a gentle kiss on her lips. “I'm so glad they found you, Cage.” She turned and smiled at her husband. “Glad for all of us.”

“Why is it that you're handling our women?” Sully grumbled. “Get your own wife.”

Cage checked his watch again and straightened his tie for the hundredth time. “I plan to. The sooner the better.” He ducked out of the room and headed toward the front of the church.

Nadine was seated at the organ, and as she began the music, the wedding party clustered into order. Behind Patrick and Caroline, Sully led his wife up the aisle, handling her as carefully as if she were made of spun glass. Although he'd scoff at anyone who said so, the thought of becoming a father in three months intrigued and terrified him by turns.

“Who would have thought you'd have to put on a tux so quickly after Jed and Julianne's wedding?” Ellie teased.

Matching his steps to hers, Sully countered, “I'd do anything to get pretty boy tied up with another woman. He's entirely too free with other men's wives.”

“He is handsome, isn't he?” At Sully's quick scowl, Ellie patted his arm. “I tend to go for the deep and dangerous type, myself.” She exchanged a smile with her husband.

Jed suspected that Julianne was in her element as they walked smoothly down the aisle. Having all eyes in the
church zeroed in on his wife wouldn't make her the least bit uncomfortable. Quite the opposite.

“There's something you should know, Sullivan.” She smiled brightly at the guests crowded into the small church. “Ellie will beat me to the maternity ward, but I'll be darned if Zoey does. You've got some work ahead of you.”

Jed dipped his head. “I'm willing to practice for as long as it takes.”

She stole a quick kiss. “See that you do.”

It was anxiety, rather than the heat, that had perspiration beading on Cage's brow. But when the music changed and the vision in white made her way down the aisle, nerves faded away. He knew he was grinning like an idiot, but he didn't care.

His voice was pitched low when Zoey reached his side. “What are you wearing underneath that dress, sugar?”

Her lips curved. “I'm afraid you're going to have to wait until tonight to find out.”

He faced the minister, content. He'd wait, all right. For a while. They had the rest of their lives, after all. And he was nothing if not a very patient man.