Serial Games (Virginia Justice Book One) (15 page)

“So, you two will be out tomorrow enjoying the fair?” The officer smiled.

“Unfortunately, no. We’re working it,” Brandon answered.

The officer produced a somber expression. “That’s right. Still working the Burrows case?”

Maggie stepped forward. “Has anyone come by, asking any probing questions such as how many people would be here, or where the off-limits areas are?”

The officer stood erect; his features hardened. “No, ma’am. We’re on the lookout for Burrows, but I doubt he’ll show up here.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure,” Brandon slipped in. “Tomorrow, this place will be packed with people. It would be easy to creep in unnoticed. Just as easy as it is for a child to get lost, a woman could be separated from her party.”

The officer nodded. “Yes sir, it will be crowded, that’s for sure. We are going to double the number of officers on the ground for more coverage.”

“Good. We’ll be in touch with your supervisor but for right now, we’re going to take a look around. If you see anything, or get any suspicious inquiries, let us know.”

“Yes, sir.”

Brandon and Maggie walked farther away from the bustle. Both were silent as they looked around and familiarized themselves with the landscape. Brandon ran a hand through his dark brown hair and sighed. “This is going to be a nightmare.”

Maggie cast him a sideways glance. “I’m sure he’ll show.”

“But the likelihood of us catching him?”

It was Maggie’s turn to sigh. “I know, I know. I’m praying we do. There haven’t been any reports of women missing, so I’m confident we can catch him before anyone is hurt.” Maggie wondered why there hadn’t been any reports. Even though she couldn’t assume Burrows would kill again so soon, many serial killers wouldn’t be able to control the urge; Maggie would be remiss if she didn’t assume that, too.

“Praying to whom? God?” he said, his voice heavy with bitterness.

Maggie snapped out of her thoughts and squelched the feelings of offense.

She spied the chain around his neck, hidden beneath his black t-shirt. “You don’t have any faith?” She willed her voice to come out smooth, curious. She didn’t want to start an argument, especially if he allowed her into a part of him that was hurting. “We’ve caught Burrows before, and we will again.” Her words came out decidedly, yet even she doubted they would catch Burrows. It was a miracle they caught him the first time.

“So, you just walk around knowing you’re entitled to the outcome you pray for?” he baited.

Maggie cut her look toward him. He looked straight ahead, his jaw firm, lips tight.
Rough territory
. Maggie wanted him to keep talking. “Well, not exactly. I walk around knowing I have His grace, help, and the skills entrusted to me.”

“Where’s His help when someone dies?”

Maggie heard the grit in his voice as he posed the age-old question. Was that why he hurt? Someone he knew had passed away? Before she could answer, an older woman approached them. She carried a wooden box filled with plump, red tomatoes, the color matching her t-shirt. She tossed her head to whisk her salt-and-peppered bangs from her eyes.

“Oh, good afternoon. You’ve come early.” She turned a bright smile to Brandon. “Some of us are setting up a few vegetables if you and your wife would like to take a look. We’d be happy to sell you some today.”

“She’s not my wife,” Brandon said stiffly and stomped past her.

“Oh, my, I’m sorry.” The corners of the woman’s mouth drooped. “I…I didn’t mean to offend him.”

Maggie watched Brandon move farther away and then looked back at the concerned woman. “No, I apologize. We’re not married. We’re federal law enforcement agents just observing the area before the fair starts tomorrow.”

The woman nodded and shifted the carton in her arms. “Well, the offer still stands. If either you or your colleague want some, just stop on by our tables.”

“Yes, ma’am, thank you.” Maggie lightly touched the woman’s arm in gratitude and hurried after Brandon.

“Marshal,” Maggie called.

Brandon stopped. He turned with narrowed eyes. “Marshal? Are we back to that?”

Maggie was taken aback. They had progressed somewhere? With each given minute and the pendulum of emotions she witnessed from him, she didn’t know where they were. “Are you okay? Was it what the lady said back there? That I was your wife? She meant no harm.” Maggie stopped in front of him. She searched his eyes, still in slits, desperate for another clue into his pain.

“Margaret, please.” Again he walked away.

Maggie sucked in a breath. He had said her full name. The sound thrilled her; her thumping heart filled her ears as it responded to him. But he had brushed her off again. Maggie ignored her warming heart and sprinted after him. She was close to unveiling some secret struggle. The weariness in his voice urged her forward. She came around him and he stopped abruptly. They stared at each other, their wills tested.

Brandon’s features reddened, either from anger or annoyance, Maggie couldn’t tell. His tight jaw and stormy eyes spoke of anger. After a few very long seconds, Brandon let out a sharp breath and the light color of his eyes returned.

“I’m sorry, Maggie.” He rolled his eyes heavenward. “I feel like I’m constantly apologizing to you.”

Her stomach instantly knotted at the sound of her nickname.

“I was out of line back there. I’m not angry at you, or the lady.”

“What then?” she whispered. She inched closer to him. She caught his look and held it.

His eyes turned quizzical and Maggie knew he questioned the reason for her asking. The investigator in her wanted to know the reason for Brandon’s volatility, yet the woman in her wanted to comfort the bitter pain she heard earlier in his voice. That revelation startled her. She only knew the man for a few days and already her soul was undoubtedly drawn to him.

The sarcastic smile returned, but Maggie recognized it as his shield. He was shutting down; her chance slipped away. He touched the cross around his neck. If he didn’t have an ounce of faith, why cling to the cross?

“It’s nothing.”

She couldn’t resist. “It’s more than nothing if you snap at some poor lady, then walk away from me.” She hoped he would become angry again and possibly give her another clue to his struggle, but instead, the sarcastic smile turned into the challenging one she quickly recognized. He was completely unreachable now, his arrogance back.

“I guess I could’ve played along with what the lady said. What would be so bad about being your husband?”

Maggie’s mouth dropped. “What? You didn’t have to play at all. We could have just told her the tru—”

“You’re strong, confident, funny…” His eyes unashamedly raked over her form. “Beautiful…”

The sun blazed and drops of sweat beaded on the core of her back. Her face glistened. Brandon stepped closer, and she stopped breathing. He stood too close for conversation, and a little too far away for kissing. Her heart thudded painfully against her ribs. She ached to reach a hand up to wipe the sheen that gathered thickly on her forehead, but his eyes held her in place.

“You look frightened, Agent Weston.”

His confident smile snapped her back to reality. Wasn’t she just wondering why he was so hot and cold? Now he was on fire. Or was that her? Whatever he was hiding, he wanted to avoid discussing it. Well, two could play that game.

Maggie stepped back. “I just may take you up on your offer.” She sent him what she hoped was a slick grin of her own. It must have been, because he blinked; shock and perhaps a bit of fear crossed his features. This time, Maggie turned her back on him, and continued to walk down the street.

****

Brandon jerked open the door of command and control. He almost forgot about Maggie on his heels, and reached out to catch the door right before her face met it. He mouthed an apology but her eyes were elsewhere and she walked past him.

“You’re in a good mood.”

Brandon eyed Bernie, who grinned mischievously at him. His mood soured more. “What do you mean?”

“I heard you really let the coffee pot have it this morning. Oh, hello Maggie,” he said a bit too pleasantly. The knowing look on Bernie’s face made Brandon want to punch him in the gut.

“Hello, Bernie. Any news?”

All teasing left his features and he motioned for them to come closer. “I just got off the phone with the sheriff’s department. He’ll hold a muster with his men tomorrow morning at oh-six hundred, and he’ll be expecting us to brief on our operation.”

“Agent Weston,” someone from across the room called. “Telephone for you.”

Maggie excused herself and walked away. Brandon tried not to, but his eyes followed her. He eased into a chair as he still watched her.

“That bad, huh.”

Bernie
. Brandon’s irritation rose but he wouldn’t admit anything. Truth was, the day had exhausted him. The coffee pot, plus the mayor’s stonewalling, coupled with his argument earlier with Maggie: his emotions had run the gamut and the day was only half over. Brandon’s nerves cried out for a break. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You know, it’s a strange thing.”

“What is?”

“You never hesitated with Emily. You saw her and instantly you were by her side. With Agent Weston,” he gestured to the brunette still on the phone, “you act as if you’re successfully hiding something as plain as day.”

“Bernie, don’t,” Brandon warned.

“It’s been five years now, Brandon. Why are you fighting something as natural as breathing?”

Brandon flexed his fists. “Really? What’s that?”

“Loving a woman.”

There it was. Bernie brought to light Brandon’s personal struggle — it was time to move on. Brandon refused. He couldn’t justify letting go of the anger. Yet, the more time he spent with the beautiful Agent Weston, the more he wanted to open his heart again.

Today she’d tried several times to get him to trust her with his pain. He’d wrestled with her gentle and forceful spirit; her eyes spoke of compassion and even empathy. Had she guessed his trouble? Emily’s compassionate heart had once touched his soul. Brandon had believed that kind of love happened only once in a lifetime.

But now…

His gaze shifted again to Maggie, and while speaking on the phone, she looked in his direction. Their gazes locked. Even from across the room, electricity hummed between them. A spark had ignited during that fateful meeting in her office. Brandon knew it, and the color in her cheeks now told him she was well aware of it. Tension in Brandon’s jaw contracted the muscles. He wouldn’t think about her, or Emily for that matter.

“You think five years is enough time, to forget someone?”

Bernie pinched the bridge of his nose, a tell he would display when he tried to calm his frustrations. “I’ve never told you to forget her, Brandon. That’s a fact. You have to at least acknowledge life doesn’t end when you can’t be with someone you once loved.” He leaned on the table. His eyes burned in earnest. “You can love again. You were created to. Your soul knows this, and if I read you correctly, it’s crying out to love again. Perhaps the lovely Maggie Weston?”

Brandon crossed his arms. His eyes narrowed as they watched her. Bernie was right. He was always annoyingly right. Brandon’s gaze followed her as she walked from one table to another. He thought of her constantly, lost sleep over her, kissed her…a moment of weakness, but worth it. Her soft lips teased him with every smile; her scent threatened to weaken his resolve; her eyes pierced his soul. Did she perceive how she affected him? Did he want her to?
Yes, I think I do
.

****

While Brandon spoke with the departing surveillance team, Maggie spent the time thinking. She never met a puzzle she couldn’t solve, nor could she refuse one. A career as a profiler was a natural choice, considering her abilities.

Maggie stared at the notes Burrows left for hours on end. She couldn’t make heads or tails of them. Without context, they didn’t make any sense. Even the video offered zero clues other than where he had been.

Burrows had not been sighted since the gas station incident. Maggie didn’t count the unknown individual running in the field. For more than two days, Burrows eluded capture and nothing, not even Happy Gilbert, pointed to Burrows’s whereabouts.

The mystery surrounding the photographer frustrated Maggie. She couldn’t prove Happy’s nefarious connection to Burrows, but she would. Maggie glanced at her watch. The deadline for his profile approached, and with it, information she hoped would lead to Burrows.

The sun dipped slowly into the horizon. Lightning bugs hovered above the grass, their abdomens glowing. She and Brandon were finally on their surveillance shift. Maggie scanned the grounds around the Burrows house. No chance Burrows would suddenly come out of the woodworks while they watched.

Maggie wiped the sheen on her forehead with the back of her hand and groaned. She would rather be back at the hotel, going over documents or reviewing psychiatrists’ notes. She needed to discover Burrows’s target, not sit in a confined car with a man who was beyond handsome, borderline arrogant, and well…

Brandon shut the door after he settled into the seat. He gave her a knee-melting grin.
Good thing I’m already sitting down. Maggie, this is ridiculous. You should be spending your time getting to know him, not swooning
. She slipped from the grip of his gaze and looked out her window.

“What are the chances Burrows has moved on?”

None
. “I don’t think he’d leave the area. I know we haven’t seen him but tomorrow we will.”

Brandon let out a frustrated breath. “Something isn’t right here, Maggie. Usually perps leave a trail to follow. There’s a purpose behind their actions.”

“Believe me, I know,” Maggie urged. “But Burrows isn’t like any other person you’ve had to retrieve. He can very well disappear. There
is
a purpose behind his actions.”

“We just don’t know what those actions are,” Brandon grumbled.

Maggie didn’t argue. “Or his purpose…”

“If only we knew where his mother was buried.”