Task Force Bride (6 page)

This is too much, please come bail me out—
or
what the heck are you still doing there staring at me when whatever interest you have in me isn’t as mutual as you’d like it to be?

There was a reason Pike worked with dogs. Communication with them was so much less complicated. Eat. Sleep. Pet. Play. Work.

While Pike debated the mystery of Hope Lockhart and how he should respond, Nick circled around the counter. He shrugged into his jacket before brushing a curl off Annie’s forehead. “Everything okay? Matuszak isn’t giving you fits, is he?”

With their opposite personalities, Nick and Annie were the last two people Pike would ever have imagined as a couple. But together, they worked. Annie shook her head and smiled. “I don’t even notice him when you’re here.”

Nick grinned. “Good.” He shifted his gaze up to Pike. “Seems like Matuszak ought to be answering some questions instead of keeping her from talking. All we want are details about what she saw last night, and her observations of activities in that neighborhood. But as her business mentor, Elliott claims he knows her better than anybody. He says she’s ‘sensitive and suggestible’ and wants to make sure we’re not taking advantage of her or scaring her more than she needs to be. It’s like facing off against a pair of big brothers.”

Sensitive and suggestible? The woman had stood up to what was probably an abusive father and pulled a knife to defend herself from the things that frightened her. She’d gone to the scene of a homicide to confirm the identity of someone she knew. Pike punched Hank Lockhart’s prison record off the computer screen and turned toward Nick. “Hope may not look like it on the outside, but she’s tough. She’s a survivor.”

“I hope so. I’d still like to get her in a room without her entourage to see what she has to say.” Nick’s shift was long over, too, but he had nothing but a smile when he reached for Annie’s hand. “Come on, slugger. I’ll drive you to the lab.” With a nod to Pike, the couple walked toward the elevators. “See you at the briefing tomorrow morning. Try to get a couple hours of sleep.”

“Yeah,” Pike answered. “You, too.”

Pike groaned when the elevator door opened and three of the five members of SWAT Team 1 stepped out, including Pike’s older brother Alex Taylor. Pike greeted Trip Jones and Holden Kincaid, each of whom towered over his vertically challenged, muscle-bound sibling. As adopted brothers, Alex and Pike couldn’t look more different, but they couldn’t be closer, either. Growing up in foster care together had forged a bond as strong as blood between them.

And Alex took his role as big brother very seriously. He knew Pike should be home at his apartment getting some shut-eye right now.

After sending his buddies on to roll call, Alex combed his fingers through his curly black hair and stretched up on tiptoe to look over the counter where Pike stood. “Where’s your better-lookin’ sidekick?”

“Aren’t you the funny guy.” Logging out of the computer terminal, Pike grabbed his ball cap and joined his brother around the front of the desk. “Hans is in his kennel, getting some R & R.”

“Looks like you had a long night, too.”

Pike scratched at the stubble that shaded his jaw and nodded. “We had another Rose Red rape.”

“Ah, hell.” Although the task force was specifically dedicated to solving the string of assaults and related deaths, there wasn’t a cop on the force who didn’t care about catching the perp. “Did the victim survive?”

Pike shook his head. “Looks like the Cleaner got to her. Shot the vic. CSI Hermann thinks LaDonna Chambers was dead before the body was dumped this time.” There had been too many innocent victims. He smacked his cap against his thigh and looked across the room to Hope again. A woman like that shouldn’t have to live in fear of walking the streets or going to work. “I don’t understand why we can’t catch these bastards. He hasn’t left a single fingerprint at any crime scene, but we’ve got the accomplice’s on file. We’ve got the rapist’s DNA, but there’s no match in the system. According to the CSI I was just talking to, the only blood at this scene belonged to the vic. We can’t figure out where he takes them to commit the assault or why this Cleaner goes to so much trouble to destroy any evidence of the crimes. It’s a sick relationship.”

“I don’t know what color they were.” Was that Hope raising her voice? “He was going too fast. If I had known who he was, of course I would have...” Her hands squeezed into fists on top of Detective Montgomery’s desk. “He wore a hat and a surgical mask. His eyes were in the shadows.” Matuszak moved in behind her chair, warning the detective not to press his client.

Alex turned to track the object of Pike’s wandering gaze. “What’s she got to do with it? Montgomery is lookin’ intense.”

“I know. They’re being pretty hard on her. The woman hasn’t had any sleep.”

Alex tilted him a curious look. “Is she part of your task force investigation?”

“We think she saw the van our rapist uses to abduct his victims. She may even have seen the guy, but didn’t get a clear look at him.”

“I thought you were a K-9 cop, not a detective. Have you been asking her questions, too?”

Pike studied the toe of his boot for a moment, recalling that unexpected urge to kiss her. But he remembered the stark fear he’d seen in her apartment just as clearly. The knife and the wild eyes had reflected how well his attempt to develop a rapport with her had gone. He raised his head, wondering again if he’d misread her silent plea for help a few minutes ago. She was hanging in there with Montgomery. “Her shop and apartment are on my beat. I answered a call there last night.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Alex leaned back against the counter beside Pike. “Why don’t you go over there and do something about it instead of standing here staring like a moon-eyed teenager?”

“What do you mean, do something? I’m not...” Ah, damn. Had Alex picked up on that weird attraction vibe? Without paying any mind to the flak vest and SWAT uniform his brother wore, Pike quipped back, “I can squash you, you know.”

“Hey, I’m older than you—show some respect.”

“Don’t have to.”

“I’ll tell Mom.”

“Mom likes me better.”

Alex shook his head and laughed. “Go over there and say something. Offer her a cup of coffee or a ride home. Give her a break from the Inquisition and she’ll be grateful. Is she nice?”

“Are you matchmaking?” Pike accused. “Hope and I aren’t even friends. She’s not my type.”

He preferred getting to know a woman who might actually like him.

“You don’t have a type. Besides, I don’t buy that ‘she means nothing to me’ line. You’re about to crawl out of your skin with worry, so why don’t you go over there and do something about it?”

“Alex—”

“You can handle her.”

“What does that mean?”

“I know how suave you are with the ladies,” he teased, intimating just the opposite. “At the rate you’re going, Matt and Mark will be married before you.”

“They’re still in school.”

“That’s why I’m helping you out.” Alex gave him enough of a push that Pike had to plant both feet to keep his balance. “What are you waiting for, Casanova?”

“Shut up.” Pike returned the shove, pushing Alex beyond arm’s reach but returning his teasing grin. “It’s a wonder you ever got Audrey to say yes to you.”

“And yet she did.” Alex flashed his wedding ring and cut Pike a break on the teasing. “Follow your instincts, little brother. There’s no other way to figure a woman out. I’ll see you in a week at Sunday dinner. Grandma and Grandpa will be back from their fiftieth anniversary trip. I warn you—Grandma said there’d be pictures.” Alex doffed him a salute and headed toward the conference room. “Good luck.”

“Yeah. See ya Sunday.”

After he watched Alex rejoin his SWAT teammates, Pike looked across the desks to Hope again. He could do this without his older brother’s help. He started walking before he talked himself out of the idea of taking one more stab at proving to Hope that he was one of the good guys. Besides, she’d been up as long as he had, and if he was this tired, she must be exhausted after the emotional ups and downs she’d been through in the past several hours. He’d be doing her a favor to interrupt the grill-fest of questions.

“Yes, LaDonna worked in my office, and yes, I want answers,” Matuszak was explaining as Pike approached. “But I don’t intend to let any woman I know be hurt like that again. Hope has told you everything she knows more than once. I won’t let you put her through anything else, especially something that’s not even admissible in court—like this ludicrous idea of hypnosis.”

“But if it could clarify some detail from what I saw, then I’d—” Hope began.

“It won’t.” Matuszak shut her down and squeezed her shoulder at the same time. “You’ve done enough. If this...animal...gets wind that you’re any kind of witness to what he’s done, then he might well come after you next.”

Sizing up the tailored cut of the attorney’s tan suit and his willingness to scare his client in order to keep her mouth shut, Pike circled around him. Someone here was wearing some serious cologne, too. But he remembered Hope’s scent was sweet and subtle. And Spencer Montgomery wasn’t the cologne type. Another reason not to like these two.

Detective Montgomery acknowledged him as he joined them. “Pike?”

Hope’s face was too pale for his liking. The urge to rescue her and change her perception of him flowed even stronger through his blood now. “I was wondering how much longer you’ll need Miss Lockhart, sir. My shift’s over and I’d be happy to give her a ride back to her apartment.”

Hope’s head shot up and those long tendrils danced away from her confused expression. “You would?”

“Anytime.”

The wealthy entrepreneur Pike already knew to be Brian Elliott stood up to introduce himself. “And you are?”

“Officer Taylor.” They clasped hands in front of Hope’s face, and when he glanced down at her with a friendly wink, her pale cheeks dotted with color. Was that embarrassment at his teasing show of support or discomfort that he’d forced his way into a conversation that had already gone on too long for her? Pike forged ahead. “Hope and I have a habit of running into each other.”

“Yes. I saw how you ran into her in the elevator.” Scowling as if displeased by the half embrace he’d witnessed, Elliott diverted Pike’s attention to the other man. “This is my attorney, Adam Matuszak.”

“We’ve met.”

They shook hands while Brian Elliott continued. “Thank you, but Hope and I are friends. I’ve known her for several years now. I was the first to notice her talents as a business woman with impeccable taste. I’ve nurtured that talent and supported her ever since. Adam and I will take her home.”

Although Elliott’s tone was polite enough, Pike got the idea that some sort of claim was being made. Were these
GQ
and
Forbes
cover models the kind of men Hope preferred to hang out with? The kind of men who made her feel safe? That didn’t bode well for a
Field
&
Stream
kind of guy like him.

Still, he wasn’t looking forward to letting Alex know he’d struck out with Hope Lockhart. Again. He made one last valiant effort, dropping his gaze down to Hope’s. “Is that what you want? I’ll take you out of here right now. Just say the word.”

“I...” She glanced up at both her friend and her attorney before adjusting her glasses on her nose and narrowing her gaze at Pike. “It would be more convenient for Brian to take me. He lives in the same neighborhood.”

“I drove Mr. Elliott here,” Matuszak added, settling his hand on Hope’s shoulder. “It’s no problem to drive her, too.”

Convenient.
Not what he’d asked. But the dismissal was clear. She’d made her choice.

So much for Alex’s matchmaking. So much for winning Hope’s trust.

“Then I’m headin’ home myself.” He put his cap on and tipped the bill to her. “Ma’am. See you next time I’m on patrol.”

Her gaze dropped to the middle of his chest before she nodded. No
thank-you.
No
goodbye.
No
appreciate your concern.

A nod.

Pike turned away, strolling toward the elevators and trying to figure out what that woman had against him—and why it bothered him so much that she did.

Chapter Five

A solid night’s sleep, a run with Hans, a shower and a shave had refreshed Pike enough to stay focused during the task force meeting early Monday morning.

At least, he was physically alert. Unfortunately, there were so many thoughts running around inside his head that he was distracted, anyway.

The graphic crime scene photos that Annie Hermann passed around indicated that the Rose Red Rapist’s level of violence had escalated, and that his habitual routine was growing more erratic. It was disturbing enough that LaDonna Chambers had been abducted and sexually assaulted. But there’d barely been any defensive marks on her. Had the initial blow to the head when she’d been blitz attacked and kidnapped rendered her unconscious through the whole ordeal? If so, then why kill her?

Had something upset the rapist’s routine and he’d fired the kill shot out of rage? Had the Cleaner, a female accomplice who destroyed evidence of his crimes, upped her game to the extent that she now intended to murder every victim? Was the assault no longer enough violence to sate these perverts’ sick needs?

And then there was the guilt Pike had to deal with. CSI Hermann’s timeline indicated that Ms. Chambers’s abduction had happened during his patrol shift with Hans, just a block away from his location at the time. She’d been taken from
his
territory. On
his
watch. She’d been a woman working in the neighborhood he’d sworn to protect. A law student, LaDonna had been taken from the parking lot outside the firm where she’d been doing her internship.

Adam Matuszak’s law firm.

First impressions of the arrogant blond attorney lingered in the mix of Pike’s thoughts, too.

Pike reached down to where Hans dozed on the floor beside his chair and stroked the dog’s warm flank, automatically seeking that grounding, don’t-stress-unless-you-have-to feeling that working with the clever German shepherd gave him. But that first encounter with Matuszak and Brian Elliott still irritated him. Both men had shut down Hope’s efforts to speak for herself. And while that might have been a legal thing to protect her from volunteering to say or do anything that might be upsetting or unnecessary or even potentially incriminating, it stuck in Pike’s craw to think that she’d tried to make herself heard and no one was listening.

And what would he have done if Hope’s high-society buddies hadn’t been there to greet her when the elevator doors opened? Tunneled his fingers deeper into that glorious hair? Eliminated the distance between them? Kissed her?

Maybe his instinctive dislike for Adam Matuszak had a more personal, less noble foundation. Maybe what galled Pike was that he’d made a concerted effort these past few months to earn Hope’s trust and become a friend, and—with or without Hans at his side—she’d repeatedly blown him off. Meanwhile, she aligned herself with those two suit-and-tie movers and shakers of Kansas City society who’d answered her call in the middle of the night.

Sounded a little like wounded male pride.

That
was an unsettling thought, too.

“Either he’s getting sloppy or she’s learning to enjoy the game, too.” Spencer Montgomery’s stern voice dragged Pike’s attention back to the opposite end of the table where the senior detective ran the task force meeting.

Spencer’s partner, Nick Fensom, sat immediately to his left. He tossed the pen he’d been rolling between his fingers onto the table and leaned back in his chair. “So they get more violent and we get no closer to solving this damn case.”

“That’s not entirely true, Nick.” Dr. Kate Kilpatrick, the police psychologist and profiling expert who was a member of the team, was ever the voice of cool, calm reason. She patted the thick case folder sitting in front of her. “We’re building an extremely strong case against our unsub, with a variety of evidentiary support. We have his DNA and a surviving witness who can identify him by voice and scent, as well as describe the site where the rapes occur—a building undergoing renovations or construction.”

“Doesn’t do us any good if we can’t catch the perp and put him on trial,” Nick argued.

Annie Hermann curled one leg beneath her and sat, trying to calm the fiancé she sat across from. “We know exactly the kind of man we’re looking for now.”

Dr. Kilpatrick tucked her short silvery-blond hair behind her ears, concurring with Annie’s facts. “He’s most likely OCD—suffering from obsessive-compulsive disorder. The surgical mask Miss Lockhart mentioned fits our profile. He has specific routines. He needs things to be spotlessly clean and orderly. And even though he functions normally in society, he has issues with successful, goal-oriented women. He’s been emotionally traumatized by a woman with power over him—a mother, a lover, a boss.”

“Blah, blah, blah.” Nick voiced his opinions and emotions more loudly than anyone, but Pike had to admit he was feeling the same frustration.

Maggie Wheeler-Murdock, the red-haired officer who was typing notes onto her laptop, and who had a special affinity for talking to the victims of these brutal crimes, looked up from her computer screen. She directed her question to the police psychologist. “Is it possible the shorter time frame between attacks is because the Cleaner has turned the rapes into murders? She’s stealing the spotlight from him?”

Dr. Kilpatrick nodded. “That could be the very relationship he’s acting out on by going after these women. She’s interfered with his routine. And he no longer sees himself as the most dangerous thing out there on the streets.”

Pike finally had something to add. “There’s danger enough.” He felt all eyes at the table turn to him. “When Hans and I are out there walking our beat, you can see the fear on women’s faces. It’s in the way they walk and carry themselves. A lot of the businesses in that neighborhood are run or staffed by women. Now some of those businesses are closing because of the fear our unsubs have created. Trust me, I’m less worried about the economic impact than I am about what this guy is doing to the confidence of this city.” He braced his elbows on the table and leaned toward the rest of the group. “We need to do something now. Go on the offensive. There are too many dead bodies—too many ruined lives—left in this guy’s wake.”

“Pike’s right.” Detective Montgomery surveyed the members of his team, sitting around the table. “We need to set up a sting that will draw this guy out.”

“We need bait for a sting,” Nick pointed out. “We don’t have the manpower to track every potential victim he might go after.”

Dr. Kate added another bit of reasoning. “It needs to be a woman our unsub sees as a specific threat to him.”

Spencer shook his head. “We’ve only got two surviving witnesses who can implicate him. One of them is in a mental hospital. And the victim Dr. Kate mentioned—Bailey Austin—we can’t count on her. Her assault was too recent. She’s too fragile to put into a possible face-off with her attacker unless he’s behind the glass in a lineup room.”

“It doesn’t have to be a previous victim, does it?” Maggie suggested. “Can’t we put a female officer undercover in that neighborhood who fits his ideal victim? Make her an irresistible target to draw him out?”

“It can’t be you.” Dr. Kate smiled and nodded toward the baby bump that was already starting to show following Maggie’s summer wedding to a U.S. Marine who’d lived in her apartment building.

Nick Fensom’s gaze locked on to the dark-haired CSI sitting across from him. “The Cleaner has seen Annie at crime scenes. We have to assume she’s shared that information with our unsub. He won’t go after one of us.”

Kate Kilpatrick agreed. “None of us can assume the role we need. As the task force liaison to the press, I have my face all over the media. He knows I’m with KCPD, too.”

Pike flattened his palms on top of the table. The team’s undercover-cop idea wasn’t going to fly. “This guy lives or works in that neighborhood. He knows every woman there. He’d avoid a stranger, unless we’re talking about embedding someone there for several months.”

Detective Montgomery shook his head. “We can’t wait that long. He’ll have gone after someone else by then. We need to recruit a volunteer from the community—offer her police protection, of course.”

Nick Fensom snapped his fingers. “We’ve got Pike’s girlfriend who gave us the info about the surgical mask and a detailed description of what we believe is his van.”

What? Whoa. Pike raised his hands and backed his chair away from the table. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

Nick swiveled in his chair, his teasing grin looking an awful lot like his brother Alex’s yesterday morning. “Then why did you hang out at the precinct for six hours after your shift was over yesterday?”

“Hope was my responsibility. I was the first man on the scene after she called Dispatch. I drove her in to HQ. I wanted to see the incident through to the end.” Yeah. That was it. He’d stayed out of concern...because he’d be worried about anybody from that neighborhood on his watch. Right?

Clearly thinking through their options, Detective Montgomery adjusted his dark silk tie. “Brian Elliott offered to put her up in his lake house down in Branson, but she refused. She told me she wanted to stay in the city and help in any way she could.”

“There you have it.” Nick turned back to his partner. “Our bait.”

Pike remembered the prison record he’d read. Henry Lockhart’s home address had been in a small town close to Branson. Maybe that part of the state dredged up too many unpleasant memories for Hope. That was probably why she’d refused Elliott’s offer.

“I’m sure she was talking about testifying in court,” Pike countered. “Not...what you’re suggesting.”

“She’s a successful woman,” Montgomery argued. “Runs her own business. She’s been a resident in the Rose Red Rapist’s target neighborhood for a couple of years now. Hell, the press gave our unsub that nickname because of her shop.”

These people weren’t listening. Hope Lockhart as an undercover lure? Not that she couldn’t attract a man’s attention—if she loosened a few buttons on her blouse, let down her hair and actually talked to a guy. But that wasn’t going to happen. He’d been trying to interact with the woman for months now, and except for those brief seconds on the elevator, all he’d gotten were some curt hellos and a knife pulled on him. “How are you going to get a man on the scene to protect her without making our unsub suspicious? If you look up
spinster
in the dictionary, Hope Lockhart’s picture is right there next to it.” He knew those weren’t the kindest words, but facts were facts. “You can’t suddenly throw a cop into her life and have anybody believe it isn’t a sting operation.”

Dr. Kate moved her hand to the tabletop next to where Pike’s hand rested. “Your emotions are more than a little elevated when you speak of Miss Lockhart. Do you have a relationship with her?”

“With Hope?” His protest was sharp enough for Hans to raise his head.

The psychologist nodded. “If there’s already a connection between you, we could capitalize on that.”

Oh, yeah. He never should have touched Hope in that elevator. “I’m not in a relationship with anybody. And trust me, if you’re going to recruit her, then you need to send someone else to keep an eye on her.”

Spencer Montgomery stood at the opposite end of the room, buttoning his suit jacket, looking as though he was about to wrap up this meeting. “Why? Can’t you handle some personal protection work?”

“Of course.” The dog rested his muzzle on Pike’s knee, giving him a look that seemed to question just where this conversation was taking them. “Hans and I can guard a place or a person better than any team of men. But Hope...she’s afraid of me—of us.” He reached down to rub Hans’s head. “And I don’t work without my partner.”

Dr. Kate was sizing him up as though he were a patient of hers. “Do you want me to talk to her? You know, helping her through these fears is a very legitimate way to deepen your bond with her.”

“I don’t have a bond.”

“But you
do
know her,” Detective Montgomery clarified. “You’ve had conversations?”

“Sort of.”

“You’ve been seen with her?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Anybody else here know Hope Lockhart better than Pike?”

Maggie gave him a sympathetic look over her laptop. “She planned my wedding to John, but I’ve got desk duty until the baby comes.”

Annie Hermann stuffed her files into her bag. “Sorry. Never met her.”

“Saturday night’s interview was the first time we’ve spoken.” Nick Fensom tucked his pen into the pocket of his leather jacket.

“It’s settled, then.” Detective Montgomery closed his notebook and zipped it shut. “Make her like you.”

“Excuse me?” Pike stood and Hans fell into place beside him.

“You need to become her boyfriend. I can’t think of a more plausible way to work a bodyguard into her life.”

“She’ll never go for that.”

“She’ll have to if she wants our protection.” Detective Montgomery circled the table, indicating a decision had been made. “Kate, you and I can have a discussion with Miss Lockhart this afternoon. We’ll make it clear that we need her help to make that neighborhood—this city—safe again.”

“Wait a minute.” Pike strode around the table to catch Montgomery at the door. “You want me to...date...Hope Lockhart?”

The red-haired detective’s cool gray eyes weren’t joking. “I want you to move in with her. Pretend you’re having an affair. Or better yet, she runs a bridal shop. Pretend you’re her fiancé and you’re planning your wedding.”

“Detective—”

“We’ll provide whatever backup you need—keep eyes on her when you can’t. But you and Hans are going to be our front men. We can leak that we’ve got a description of our suspect—drop some subtle clues that lead back to her. We at least have to ask if she’s willing to do it.”

“You’re going to put a civilian in that kind of danger?”

The detective’s assessing look included Hans. “She’ll have the best protection KCPD can provide.”

“Sir, I’ve never worked undercover.”

“You just have to do your job. Be there if and when our perp comes after her. You’ll still be a cop. You’ll just be a cop who’s in a relationship.” Pike had a sinking feeling there was no argument left to be made. Hope
was
their best shot at luring the Rose Red Rapist into the task force’s trap. And nobody else here could make the sting setup work. But what a setup. “Make our unsubs believe that Hope Lockhart is your bride-to-be.”