Jane Doe's Return (19 page)

She wouldn’t let that happen until the Princess Killer was locked up. Or dead.

Chapter Ten 

Dark gray clouds filled the night sky as a slight mist fell to the ground. The windshield wipers on Travis’s truck swept back and forth, sloshing the water aside. He tried to concentrate on that instead of the mixed emotions embodied in his mind and soul.

When he’d watched Chester reach for himself and then touch Shauna, pure rage engulfed Travis. He’d wanted to strangle the bastard for touching what he, for one moment, had thought belonged to him. Blinded by his need to protect her, he’d bolted for the interrogation room, knocking into his boss, and at least two other cops, who were completely capable of putting a stop to what had been happening in the other room.

The rest of the drive to his apartment had been chillingly silent. Shauna hadn’t even once glanced at him. He, on the other hand, kept looking at her. He couldn’t decide if he was proud of the way she’d handled herself, or angry at her.

There were too many coincidences for them to be truly coincidences. Either Special Agent Shauna Morgan knew who, and where, Jane Doe was.

Or, she was Jane Doe.

Now, well past nine, he sat on his couch, watching old sitcoms alone. Shauna had gone to bed right after dinner. They’d talked a little about nothing. He’d tried to get her to relax and open up. If she was Jane Doe, she’d have to know by now he was on her side. But she stayed clammed up all through dinner and then went off to her room, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He didn’t like pondering, so he turned up the volume on the TV, but it didn’t help. Regardless of who Shauna was, he still wanted her. That bugged the hell out of him.

“Travis?” Shauna’s voice rang in his ears, soft and sweet.

“Hmm.” He turned to see her, standing in his kitchen, barefoot with his damned shirt and boxers on. “God, that’s just way too sexy.”

Letting out a breath, she said, “I need talk to you.” She held a folder in her hands.

He didn’t want to talk. He wanted to become ungentlemanly and rip his boxers off her. He stood and stared at her.

“I want—”

Watching her lips move, he had the undeniable urge to touch them. Quickly, he hushed her with his finger.

“Talk later.” The pink flesh of her mouth quivered as he glided his thumb across her lower lip.

She stared at him with a mixture of passion and fear. At present, his passion was painfully obvious.

Her eyes closed and she leaned into his palm, taking his wrist in her hands. “We can’t.” A tear escaped her closed lids.

“Did Chester rape you?” He dropped his hand.

She shook her head and opened her eyes. “I wasn’t raped in Saratoga and it was a stranger.” Her face tensed and rage poured from her as she hit her hand against the wall. “Damn it! I can’t remember his face. I couldn’t remember enough to give the police anything to go on.”

“What can you remember?” He kept his voice soft and calm. The last thing she needed was for him to lose control. Taking her by the hand, he led her to the sofa. “Tell me what you do remember.”

“I wanted him to stop. I fought back, kicked him. But he just laughed at me.” Her body stiffened. “I…I wish I knew something.”

“They never caught him? Do you know if he raped others?” Travis controlled his breathing. Either he had another man to hunt down or Jane Doe had found him.

“He fits the pattern of a serial rapist.” She leaned back against the leather cushions.

Anger surged through Travis’s veins, but surprisingly, he wasn’t angry at her. Her hair felt soft against his fingers. He wanted desperately to take all her pain away. She had been through so much. She deserved to be loved and cherished. It killed him inside that it couldn’t be him. “Are you trying to find him?” Roundabout way of asking, but he really wanted her to tell him.

She didn’t answer.

“Shauna?” He pulled his hand away.

“What?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.” No way. She couldn’t be Jane Doe. Impossible. They were two completely unrelated cases. And she would have told him. Wouldn’t she?

“What aren’t you telling me?” A dull ache began to rise from his neck to his temples. She was driven by what happened to her and stumbled upon his sister’s case.
Coincidence,
he chided himself.

“What I can’t remember,” she paused, and then said, “I want to see all the information you’ve gathered on all those girls taped to your ceiling and compare what I have in my paper on Matt Williams.”

****

Shauna studied his thoughtful expression. He seemed to weigh her request and it appeared he suspected her true identity. She should just tell him, but her body trembled with irrational fear. After everything his ex-girlfriend had put him through…the betrayal, Travis would never be able to forgive Shauna for lying to him.

“I’m scared, okay? This is personal for you, always has been. He just made it very personal for me. He’s invaded my privacy.”
In more ways than one
. Bile bubbled up toward her throat.

“Are you sure?” He cupped her face.

She took in a deep breath. “I don’t know how to handle everything that’s happened, but I want to nail this guy.”

“So do I, but remember, this information is not official. Nothing about these files could be used by any legal system, not to mention, some of them I got by illegal means.” He held her by the shoulders. “I’d get canned for sure.”

“I think, at this point, we’re both on the edge.” She followed him into his bedroom and glanced up at the ceiling. “Can I take them down?” The mattress squeaked as she climbed on the bed.

“I have another set in these files.” He took out two home storage containers and started pulling out folders.

Swallowing hard, she sat on the bed and started looking at the names on each one. Unaware of his presence, she put them into piles, organizing them by date, crime scene, perceived virginity, leaving her file to the side.

She scanned all the official paperwork and then read Travis’s notes. He had extensive notes.

Theories and ideas about who the girls were, why they ran away, who they were running from, and where he thought the killer might have picked them up.

Even though she didn’t know these girls, she knew what happened to her and Travis’s instincts were right on the money. Grabbing a pen and a piece of paper, she added some of her own ideas. She kept facts out, things only a victim would know, but added what she called woman’s intuition.

Finally, she picked up Jane Doe’s file. She blinked, trying to make her body stop shaking. “Oh, God.” A picture of her battered face shook in her hands.

“Sorry, I blew it up to try and match her face to any missing girls I could find.” Travis snatched the picture away. “Whoever she is, no one reported her missing. You’re amazing.”

“Why?” Her heart pounded. She didn’t feel amazing. She felt guilty, and responsible for all these girls. She felt like she’d let them down because she should have been able to figure out who the heck had killed them all.

“The way you break everything down and start from the beginning, ignoring the obvious. You look for what you can see but your eyes miss because it seems normal, or something you see all the time. You have instincts that can’t be taught.”

She’d never really thought about it. What she knew didn’t come from instinct. It came from firsthand knowledge. She lifted her gaze to catch his. “Thanks.”

“I mean it, Shauna. What you just did with these files took me years to put together this way. Not to mention this paper.” He held it in his hands. “I’m impressed.”

She gave him a half smile, hoping he didn’t see right through her. “You’re not so bad yourself.” The paper felt heavy in her hands as she skimmed through his file on her. Scary, how good his instincts were. He had guessed she’d been approached at a train station or bus terminal.

It was the train station.

He assumed she hadn’t been with the killer long, like some of the others. Maybe a couple of days.

It was only one night, but it had felt like a lifetime.

His notes stated he thought she might have fought back, where a lot of the other girls might have been passive.

She fought like hell after she’d come to, but it didn’t stop him.

When the police had wanted to fingerprint her, she panicked. She took the first opportunity she saw and ran from those who were trying to help her. Barely able to see, her eyes beaten shut, she slipped out into the night and went home.

She thought about going to the police until she saw on the news that they had captured her attacker, but when she heard him speak on the television, she knew they’d picked up the wrong guy. Going back meant the killer would find out her true identity. Not something she could live with at the time. She wasn’t sure she could live with it now.

Travis wrote in his notes that he figured she was a runaway from a troubled home, possibly abused. He assumed that she had just walked right back into her old life, with no one the wiser.

Except him.

“You buyin’ it?” He asked, sitting down next to her, collecting all the files.

She nodded, unable to speak. Guilt tore at her gut. But she couldn’t tell him now. It would interfere with their investigation if he had to deal with her betrayal.

“I have a friend who puts facial structure back together on a computer. I was thinking about calling in a favor and having him do a composite on what she might look like now.”

“How long would that take?” Her breathing became difficult. “What would you do with the picture?”

“Run it though our database, I guess.”

The thought of her picture matching this one chilled her bones. “They wouldn’t let you.”

“Are you coming around to my way of thinking?”

“Tired of fighting you on this. How long?” she asked. Not that it mattered.

“Few days or so. Why are you so dead set against finding this woman?” His words were clipped.

“I understand her better than you think. Do you have any idea what it’s like not knowing who tried to kill you? He put his hands on me…touched me…”

“Shauna,” Travis said, taking a step closer to her.

Her hands shot up. “I never really saw his face, he hid it from me. The only thing I can remember for sure is his voice. I walk around constantly looking over my shoulder, wondering, worrying, listening.”

“Why don’t you go after him? I’ll help you. I wouldn’t mind wringing the bastard’s neck personally.” Travis snapped a pencil in half, with a deadly look on his face.

God, if he only knew.

“I thought about going after him, which is why I thought about going into police work in the first place, but between therapy and learning about the violent offenders, I realized it wasn’t about him, as much as healing myself and helping others like me find peace, you know?”

“Yeah. I know,” he said. “I find myself caring about you. I really don’t want to.” He stepped halfway into his closet, putting the files away.

“The feeling’s mutual,” she muttered, pacing about the bedroom. “Don’t do that composite. Maybe she’s been able to move past it.”

“Like you have? Jesus, Shauna. You hide behind this strong woman, which you are. But you use it to protect yourself from the world. From your past. You’re running around in circles and you can’t settle down, because it’s not finished yet. Sure, all that mumbo-jumbo you just spit at me is true, but that’s only part of it. You won’t rest until the bastard who hurt you is behind bars.” The space between them narrowed until she’d backed herself into the wall.

“Look in the mirror before you go and analyze me,” she shot back. “Talk about running in circles. You can’t see straight. You’re so obsessed with finding Marie’s killer, you’d do anything, including using a young victim who wants to try to forget a nightmare. Add that to the fact you don’t trust a single soul, even me—especially me. All because one woman broke your heart.”

His mouth opened, but nothing came out.

“Take that.” She turned and bolted across the kitchen to her bedroom, feeling quite satisfied. “Ugh.” A firm grip snatched her arm, and then pulled her into his chest before he backed her into the wall inside her room. It hadn’t been violent, but he held her firmly. Affection and desire seeped from every inch of his hard body.

“Do you have any idea what a turn-on it is when you get all riled up like that?” The heat radiating from his eyes burned her down to her core. “In every way, you amaze me.” He traced her jawline with his knuckles.

“I could really mess with your manhood right now.” She lifted her leg, applying pressure to his most sensitive area. The close physical contact would make it impossible to resist him.

His eyes closed as he inhaled sharply. “But you won’t,” he whispered, pressing his lips against her temple. “Tell me to stop.” He moved his kisses to her lips. His mouth was hot and tasted of ginger ale. She welcomed his soft probing tongue.

Cupping his face, she pushed his head from hers. “Kind of hard to talk when you do that.”