WAY OF THE SHADOWS (5 page)

“I want to remember.” Those forty-eight hours had shattered her life. Her mother had wanted to push them away while Noelle had desperately wanted to grab that time back.

His gaze held hers. “There are plenty of moments from my life that I wish I could forget.”

She thought of the scars on his body. His captivity. “What if you had the scars, but no memory of how you’d gotten them?” She didn’t have scars on her body. Not on the outside, anyway. But those two nights had left deep marks inside of her. “Every time you looked at them, wouldn’t you wonder?”

He took another gliding step toward her. She tilted back her head to keep meeting his gaze.

“When I look at the scars I have now,” Thomas said, “I remember how much my captors enjoyed cutting into me. They wanted me to break.” His eyes narrowed. “I didn’t. No matter what they did to me, I didn’t break.”

No, the Dragon hadn’t. But had she? In those lost hours, what had Noelle done?

“Then I remember what it was like to kill them.” His hands fisted. “You know what I am and what I’ve done. But when I close my eyes, I don’t like seeing the bodies in my mind.”

You know what I am.
She reached out to him and pressed her hand to his clenched fist. “You’re a soldier. You survived. You fought.
That’s what you did.
”

His gaze fell to her hand. Her skin was so pale while his was a dark tan.

“You need to be careful,” Thomas warned her. His stare was still focused on her hand.

“Careful?”

“You already know I want you, and right now...my control isn’t real strong.”

She pulled back. “I didn’t mean—”

A muscle jerked in his jaw. “I know what you meant, but I’m running on no sleep and the memory of you being nearly naked in my arms. So you should go to your room, I’ll go to mine, and when we wake up in a few hours, we can just pretend we never crossed the line between us.”

The line between partners...and lovers?

“I’ll stay hands-off, and we’ll keep things just business.” The gold in his eyes heated. “And we’ll get the job done here so we can head back to D.C.”

That was the right thing to do. They had to work together. But...
I want him.

Noelle turned away. She climbed up the stairs. She was right at the top when she just had to look back once more.

He was still standing at the base. That hot, golden gaze was focused on her.

“When did we meet before?” Noelle asked quietly.

A mask seemed to slip over his face.

“Don’t lie to me.” So, maybe she was also running on no sleep and the memory of him being so warm and naked beside her. Because she sure felt as if she’d been pushed to the edge. “You’re familiar to me. And sometimes, sometimes...like right
now,
I’ll catch you looking at me as if—as if you know me.”

“I do know you,” he growled. “We’re working together and—”

“You knew me before the EOD. You even slipped up once.” Another day, another case, but the words had nagged at her. “You told me that you’d seen me, but I hadn’t seen you.”

He glanced away from her, giving Noelle his profile. “You don’t have clearance to know about all the cases I’ve worked. So all I can say is that our paths have crossed.”

There was more. “Do you always keep secrets from women you want to have sex with?”

His shoulders stiffened. “I keep secrets from everyone.” He turned on his heel, giving her his broad back. “Get some sleep. Eighteen hundred hours will be here before you know it.”

Frustration had her muscles knotting, but she spun around and pretty much stomped her way into the room at the top of the stairs. The room was filled with heavy oak furniture, and a big, wide picture window overlooked the snow-covered land around the cabin.

The bed was a massive four-poster, which waited in the middle of the room. Noelle stared down at the covers, then she just let herself fall, face-first, into them.

She wanted sleep to take her away because the look in Thomas’s gaze... It had unnerved her far too much.

* * *

T
HERE
WERE
NO
creaks from upstairs. No soft rustles of clothing. Noelle had been up there for fifteen minutes, and Thomas was pretty sure the woman had crashed.

He pulled out his phone and called Mercer. The situation was about to slide out of his control, and he needed to know what to do when—

“Don’t tell me you’ve found another body,” Mercer said, his words rumbling as the EOD Director answered the call on the second ring.

Thomas’s gaze stayed locked on the staircase. “Pairing me with Noelle was a mistake.”

Silence.

“She wants me to tell her how I know her.” He hated looking right into her eyes and lying. The lies were cutting him up inside.

“You’re in Alaska to track down the man who hired the Jack of Hearts to kill me...and to destroy the EOD.”

“Yeah, well...” His hand raked through his hair. “All signs indicate that guy is on a slab in the county morgue right now. We’ll do recon work after we’ve had a little time to rest, but Noelle is pushing, and I want to know just how much—”

“You can reveal?” Mercer’s tone was measured.

“It’s been fifteen years. She still has nightmares.”

“I thought she might.” It almost sounded as if sympathy was in Mercer’s voice. Obviously, they had a bad connection. Mercer felt sympathy for no one. “And that’s why she’s paired up with you.”

“I’m not following you.”

“If anyone can help her to remember, it’s you. After all, you were there, right?”

He swallowed. “You put us together—because you thought she’d remember me?”

“Well, I’d hoped Noelle would remember you the first time she saw you at the EOD. Maybe get a flashback. Something. That didn’t happen, so I figured we needed to step up the game.”

Only Mercer thought playing with someone’s life constituted a game.

“She’s not a victim anymore, she’s an agent.” Mercer’s voice hardened. “Fifteen years ago, we had to protect your cover. You had to vanish from the scene.”

But he’d left her behind, and she’d been...shattered.

“Come now, Agent Anthony, I know you’ve seen her since then. You’ve watched over her all these years.”

Damn it. Mercer and his all-knowing intel. “What I do on my
own
time is none of your—”

“You should be thanking me. I mean, at least you don’t have to sneak off to check up on your profiler on your rare off days. Now you get to be up close with her, 24/7.”

This was insane. “She doesn’t
remember
me.”

“She will.” Flat. “I think it’s possible that Noelle will discover a whole lot while she’s in Alaska.” A pause. “I want her to rip apart Senator Lawrence Duncan’s life. She’s just the woman for this job.”

Thomas’s brows pulled together. “Have you told me everything about this mission?”

“Oh, son, I never tell anyone...everything.”

Hell.

“I know you’ll guard Dr. Evers. That’s your job right now. To make sure that nothing happens to her while she’s in Alaska. If I’m going to get to the bottom of this mystery, I need her.”

So, Noelle was the brains while Thomas was the killing power. He’d always been a weapon, of one kind or another. From the time he’d turned eighteen...

I have my memories, and sometimes, I hate them.
“I’ll keep Noelle safe.”

“Of course, you will.” Now Mercer sounded certain. Almost smug. “It’s what you’ve been doing for the past fifteen years, isn’t it?”

Mercer
had
been watching. Far too much.

“Even when she became an FBI agent, you couldn’t let go. You thought she still needed you.”

No, Mercer had that part all wrong. It wasn’t about what Noelle needed.

I need her.

There was so much death in his life. Everywhere he turned. But Noelle, she was the one bright light in the darkness that always seemed to surrounded him.

“This time, she does need you,” Mercer’s voice held an edge. “So stay close, no matter what happens.”

Thomas ended the call. He took his time climbing those stairs. When he got to the top, he saw the door to Noelle’s room had been left ajar.

His fingers pressed against it, opening it just a few more inches. Noelle was on the bed. Her thick hair was a curtain, spilling down her back.

Would nightmares come to her again?

If they did, Thomas hoped she would come to
him.

Chapter Four

Senator Lawrence Duncan had believed in surrounding himself with the finer things in life.

Noelle put her hands on her hips as she studied the senator’s closet. The massive closet was easily the size of her D.C. bedroom
and
living room and filled with designer clothing.

“He was ex-navy,” Thomas said. “This place sure is a long way from his life on the ship.”

She knew all about Lawrence Duncan’s background. He’d grown up poor in Camden, Alaska. He joined the navy when he was eighteen. He’d been an enlisted man for eight years, and when he’d gotten out of the service, the guy had seemed to skyrocket to power overnight. He’d come out of the military with some incredible connections, or else he’d obtained some very deadly secrets during his time in the service.

“He was married twice,” Noelle murmured as she studied the closet. Each item was perfectly in place. “Both women left him citing irreconcilable differences.” But she’d interviewed those ladies before coming to Camden. Fear had flashed in their eyes when they spoke of their husband.

Dominating. Controlling.
Their voices had become whispers when they talked about the senator.

“He was sleeping with his assistant.” Thomas propped his shoulder against the bedroom wall.

“Her and plenty of other aides.” She turned away from the closet. She’d searched in there, twice, and found nothing of any real value. But...something
had
to be in the house. This place was Lawrence’s sanctuary. After he’d left the navy, he could have started over any place. But he’d returned to Camden. He’d torn down his old house and had this mansion built right in the same spot.

She and Thomas had already confiscated all of the senator’s computer equipment. An initial search of the material hadn’t shed any additional light on the attack in D.C.—
or
on the senator’s death—but they had specialists back at the EOD who’d tear that equipment apart. If there was intel to find there, they would.

She went toward the window on the left. Looking down, she saw the slumping roof of what looked like an old shed behind the main house. About fifty yards back, right at the tree line.

The shed made her curious. “He replaced everything else.” No, not just replaced. He’d
destroyed
everything else on that property. “Why not that shed? Why is it still out there?”

Before Thomas could answer her, Noelle turned and hurried from the room. Sheriff Hodges glanced up when she rushed down the stairs. His hand was on Paula’s shoulder, as if he’d been comforting the woman. Paula’s eyes were watering, and her nose was red.

“I should have heard him. I should have helped him!”

Noelle didn’t slow to help console the other woman. She figured Hodges had things covered. She made her way to the back of the house and threw open the rear door. The icy air hit her, seeming to chill straight to her bones.

Thomas was behind her. Not speaking but following closely. When they got to the old shed, she saw a big wooden board had been positioned to block the entrance. She grabbed for the board, but Thomas was there, and he heaved it aside.

She pushed open the shed’s door. But it really wasn’t so much a shed. It reminded her more of an old barn.

The roof was high, there was no floor, just what looked like dirt and straw and—

A trunk sat, half-hidden beneath some old blankets, positioned against the far back wall. Her steps quickened as she approached it.

“Why are we out here, Noelle?” Thomas asked her.

“Because I need to understand Lawrence. He came back here to this exact spot to start his new life, for a reason.” She dropped to her knees and pushed aside the blankets that covered the trunk. Then she saw the padlock. The trunk was old and weathered from time, but the padlock was shiny. New.

“If the senator had something valuable, he wouldn’t leave it out here.” Thomas’s words were clipped. “That’s probably just some kind of equipment in there he used on his land. He didn’t want it stolen so—”

She’d spotted a hammer hanging on a nearby shelf. Noelle grabbed it and started pounding at the lock.

“
Noelle!
Hell, wait, we can get the sheriff to—”

The lock broke. Noelle shoved it aside. She wasn’t even sure what she’d expected to find but—

Photographs.

There were dozens of photographs inside the trunk. The old, Polaroid type. The white edges surrounded the images.

Her fingers were shaking when she reached for the first one. The light from her flashlight bobbed as she tried to focus in on that photo.

A photo of a young girl, a teen, blindfolded, tied to a chair.

A girl with red hair.

The print fell from her fingers, but then Noelle dove forward. Her light shined on all of those snapshots.

Red-haired girls. Teens. Bound. Blindfolded.

“Noelle!” Thomas’s fingers curled around her, and he yanked her to her feet.

But it was too late. Because she’d just found another photograph, only this photograph was familiar.

“That’s me,” she whispered as she stared down at her picture.

Like the other girls, she was blindfolded and tied to a chair.

That image... Dear God, had been taken fifteen years ago, during the two lost days of her life.

* * *

“T
HERE
ARE
TEN
different girls in these pictures.” No emotion entered Noelle’s voice, and it was that complete lack of emotion that worried Thomas the most.

They were back at the sheriff’s station. It was long past midnight, and Noelle—she’d pinned all of the photos to the wall in their makeshift office. Those images had already been faxed to the EOD. But...

“Are you okay?”

She flinched at the question, and instead of answering, she said, “They’re all about the same age. Sixteen or seventeen, females, with red hair—”

His fingers curled around her shoulders and he turned her, forcing her to face him. “Are. You. Okay?”

Her pupils were too big. Her face too pale.

“We have to operate under the assumption the photos are—are trophies that Senator Lawrence kept close because he wanted to relive the abductions—”

“Noelle, you’re in the damn photo!”

Her gaze fell to his throat. He saw her swallow. “We always knew that a second man had to be involved in my abduction.” Her voice still had no emotion. “I was tied up, so I couldn’t have been the one to kill him. Someone else was there the whole time.” Slowly, her lashes lifted. “It’s possible Senator Lawrence was that someone.”

No, it wasn’t.

“This is the first lead I’ve ever had.” Her lower lip trembled, but she caught it between her teeth. After a moment, Noelle said, “This is
my
life, and the man who could’ve told me the truth is dead.”

Thomas wasn’t exactly mourning the guy.

She pulled in a deep breath. “The EOD is searching Missing Persons databases now, using image-recognition software, but this—this isn’t the usual type of case for Mercer’s team.”

No, it wasn’t.

“The FBI should be investigating, and Sheriff Hodges, he
thinks
he’s got the FBI.” She shook her head. “We have to call them in. The real FBI. If any of those girls are still alive—”

“Do you think they are?”

Because he was watching her so closely, Thomas saw her eyelids flicker.

No, she doesn’t.

“Tell me why killers keep trophies,” Thomas demanded. Because, yes, he knew exactly what those images were.

“To remind them of the crimes.”

“Cadaver dogs are on the way.” He’d been pulling some strings of his own while she worked to identify the victims. “There might be more than just photographs buried in that old shed.” There had been no floor there. Just earth...

A graveyard? Maybe. He’d be finding out soon.

“I got away.” Her voice was a thin whisper. “Maybe some of them did, too. If there’s another survivor, if we can find her, then we can figure out how the senator fits into all of this.”

Provided Mercer didn’t yank them off the case. Because Noelle had been right about the EOD not handling missing-persons cases, and with a potential serial killer involved— Hell, no, this wasn’t business as usual for them.

Thomas was used to facing terrorists, arms dealers, but this... This was beyond his realm.

But it was exactly where Noelle thrived.

She’d turned back to study the photographs. “He used a Polaroid so that he wouldn’t have to develop his film.” Her fingers hovered over the image of herself. “Technology wasn’t so advanced back then, he couldn’t just snap a picture with his phone, and he wouldn’t have wanted anyone to know what he was doing.”

“It’s possible that all of those images are from at least fifteen years ago.”

She nodded. “But a killer like that, he wouldn’t just...stop.” Softer, she added, “He couldn’t. The compulsion to kill would be too strong.”

This whole situation wasn’t making sense to Thomas. “The guy was a senator. You don’t get much more of a high profile. He had guards, reporters, hell, nearly
everyone
dogging his steps. Wouldn’t someone have noticed if the guy was abducting girls?”

The image of Lawrence Duncan as a serial killer just wasn’t fitting for him.

“He was a hunter.” Noelle was still looking at the snapshots. “Maybe he just found something that he really enjoyed hunting. Something...or someone.”

Thomas stiffened at her words as memories flooded through his mind. A forest. Darkness. A girl’s scream.

Damn it, he
had
to tell her. Mercer could fire him; Thomas didn’t care. The photographs changed everything.
We always thought it was just her.

But it was now obvious Noelle hadn’t been the only victim.

“There’s something you need to know,” Thomas told her, aware his voice had come out a bit rough.

She didn’t glance his way.

“Noelle,
look
at me.”

Her body turned. Her gaze found his.

“You were right,” he said. He didn’t know how she was going to react, and in that moment, fear crouched beneath his skin. “We met before you came to work at the EOD.”

She stepped toward him as her brows rose. “When?”

“Years ago.” He exhaled once more. “It wasn’t for long, just an hour, maybe two.” Two hours that changed his life and hers.

“Thomas?”

“The first time I saw you...you were running, in the woods...”

Surprise flashed over face. “What are you talking about?”

“You screamed for me to help you.”

Her body trembled. The little bit of color in her face drained away. He lunged toward her, worried she might be about to pass out. He grabbed her, holding her tightly.
“Noelle?”

Her hands twisted so that she was holding him, too. “Why are you saying this? Why are you—?”

The door behind Thomas flew open and crashed into the wall. “I need you two!” Sheriff Hodges yelled. “In the bull pen,
now!
”

That man had the worst timing in the world. Thomas threw a glare over his shoulder, and he didn’t care if the sheriff saw him basically embracing Noelle right then. “We’re busy. It’s just gonna have to wait—”

“The hell it is.” Red stained the sheriff’s cheeks as he pointed to the pictures on the wall. “I just got a report of a missing girl. A girl who looks just like those others pinned up there.”

Then Thomas heard it. The soft sound of...sobbing? Coming from outside the room.

“Jenny Tucker has been missing since around six this morning,” Hodges told them. “We don’t...
Things like this don’t happen in Camden
.”

Noelle shoved past the sheriff as she made her way to the door. “Yes, they do.”

She yanked open the door and hurried out of the office. Thomas spared a hard glance for the sheriff. Hodges appeared to have aged about ten years. The lines near his eyes and mouth were deeper, and the sheriff’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t... I don’t know what to do. I arrest a few drunks every now and then.” He swallowed, and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “You’ve got to help us, Agent Anthony. This isn’t what I do.”

It wasn’t what Thomas did, either. He was used to going right after a target and taking out his prey. Not playing a cat-and-mouse game with a serial killer.

He turned on his heel and followed after Noelle. She’d stopped beside a woman with short, red hair. The woman was huddled in a chair, and tears streamed down her cheeks.

“I—I thought she was working late.... I kept waiting for my Jenny to come h-home....” Her body shuddered. “It was... It was her first day. She was gonna work weekends at the diner.”

Noelle patted the woman’s shoulder.

“Sh-she never came home.”

The floor creaked behind Thomas.

“Jenny’s like the girls in all those pictures,” the sheriff said, his voice low and carrying only to Thomas’s ears. “Is she...is she already dead?”

“I don’t know.” His hands had fisted at his sides. “It’s too early to know anything. The girl could’ve run off with a boyfriend. She could be at a friend’s house. We can’t make any conclusions yet.” But his gut was tight, and he couldn’t help remembering another long-ago night. One that had been filled with the sound of screams...and the red of blood.

* * *

T
HE
SMALL
CABIN
was perfect. Isolated. Secure.

He’d lit a lantern so he could see the girl. She was bound, blindfolded and shivering from the cold.

She hadn’t talked much. But then, with a gag in her mouth, talking wouldn’t be easy. When she’d woken up, she’d cried for her mother, but he’d stopped those cries easily enough with the gag.

He stared down at her. She was slumped in the chair. Just watching her brought back so many memories for him.

He’d been a different man back then.

Unfocused. So eager for the cries...

Everything had changed for him, though. In one night. With one kill.

Everything.

He couldn’t go back to being the same man. The spike of adrenaline in his blood—it just wasn’t the same with the girls any longer. He didn’t feel the rush. The thrill.