Ashes, Ashes, They All Fall Dead (18 page)

“Buchanan’s in my office. I called him a couple of hours ago to widen the parameters on his search program. Since his contract is paid up for two more days, I might as well get my money’s worth. And we’re still trying to match more vics to the letters.”

She and Matt had planned to meet later, after she spoke to Casey, so that worked for her.

“Sounds good. Did he tell you our theory that not all the vics are dead? That the killer might be sending letters before he kills them?”

“He did, and we’re working that angle too, but it’s tough to narrow down potential victims. I hate to say it, but it’s easier to match the letters to vics if they’re already dead.”

Tessa nodded, hating that he was right. She fingered her temporary badge. “Was there something you wanted me to do?”

“Yes. I’m reinstating you, but before you get excited, it’s on a probationary basis. I’ve done some damage control on the evidence you destroyed. I’m putting a letter of reprimand in your file, which means you won’t be eligible for a promotion anytime soon. I’m only letting you off this easily because of the eight years of exemplary service you’ve given to the FBI, and because you broke this case wide open. I can’t ignore that your instincts told you there was a serial killer out there when the rest of us were just as convinced there wasn’t. Those are the types of instincts that make you an ideal agent. But if you break the rules again, I’ll have your badge permanently. Understood?”

The urge to jump up and down was so great her legs shook, but she managed to keep a straight face and not make a fool out of herself. Just barely.

“Yes, sir. Understood. I really appreciate it. I won’t let you down.”

“See that you don’t.”

“What do you want me to do?” she asked.

“I want you to continue the line of investigation you and Matt started.”

Her excitement plummeted. “You mean, look into my past? With all due respect, couldn’t someone else do that? I would be more help working with the task force. I could visit one of the crime scenes, interview suspects—”

“I’ve got all the people I need working each crime scene from a dozen different angles. What I need is for you and Matt to figure out who you may have come into contact with in the past who could be our killer.” He leaned toward her. “I didn’t put much faith in that whole fingerprint-on-the-paper thing, but after hearing about the bracelet, I believe you and Matt may be onto something. But I can’t assign someone else without revealing to everyone why we need to look into your past, namely that you destroyed evidence. Do you see my quandary here?”

She swallowed, trying to conceal her disappointment. “Yes, sir. I do. I’m sorry I put you in such a difficult position.”

“It’s a bit more complicated than you realize. I can’t have you working on the primary case. Once we have a suspect, if the lawyers ever found out about you destroying evidence, they’d jump on that and accuse you of manufacturing evidence. The
only
way you can work on this case is to do grunt work, research your past, get me a list of suspects.” He pointed at her. “The minute you think you know who’s behind those letters, call me. Understood?”

She dug her fingers into her palms. “Do I have a choice?”

His jaw tightened. “Not if you want to keep your job.” He tossed her permanent badge onto the table. “I expect you to do exactly what I’ve ordered, and nothing else.” He left her and joined some agents on the other side of the room.

Tessa stood there for several minutes. The most important case of a decade was happening all around her and she’d been relegated to tracing her family tree. And it all boiled down to one stupid decision she’d made, the decision to trust Matt Buchanan and let him destroy that letter. If she hadn’t done that, she wouldn’t be standing here, a spectator, while everyone else was an active participant in the primary investigation.

Because of Matt she’d lost the respect of her boss and her peers. This was his fault, every bit of it. And she knew just where to find him.

She grabbed her badge and hurried out of the conference room.

M
ATT’S FINGERS TIGHTENED
around his phone. “Are you sure she isn’t down by the pond? No? All right, all right. No, okay. What about—”

The door to Casey’s office flew open. Matt looked up from his laptop to see Tessa standing in the doorway. One look at her flashing eyes and he knew he was in for a battle.

He sighed. “Austin, just keep looking. Call me when you find her.” He ended the call. “Good morning, Tessa.”

After shutting the door with more force than necessary, she lobbed something at him and stalked to the desk.

He caught what she’d thrown and held it up. A pacifier. He quirked a brow. “If this is your way of saying you want my baby, I’m not sure we know each other well enough for that just yet.”

Her eyes narrowed. “
That
is what one of my peers had waiting for me on my desk.
That
is his way of letting me know they think I’m robbing the cradle by sleeping with you!”

He tossed the pacifier onto the desk and linked his hands behind his head. “But we’re not sleeping together.”

“Exactly! But you had to go act all concerned back in Charleston when I almost fell. One of my fellow agents saw you brush my hair out of my eyes.”

“If I remember correctly, I saved you from a nasty fall. Was it wrong to be concerned about your welfare and ask if you were okay?”

“Yes!” She frowned. “I mean, no. I mean . . .”

“Which is it? Yes or no?”

She waved her hands in the air. “That’s not the point. You and I are
never
going to happen. Whatever you think is going on between us, you need to forget it. You’re too young for me. I don’t want to come into work one day and find a dozen stuffed cougars on my desk. I’ve worked too hard to make my peers respect me to lose it all over a . . . a . . .”

“A man?” he supplied helpfully.

“Yes!”

He stood and slowly walked around the desk, purposely crowding her until she backed up against the wall.

“What are you doing?” she demanded. “Why are you smiling?”

“Because I’m making progress. You’re not calling me a boy anymore. That’s progress.” He braced his hands on the wall on either side of her. “Is that all you came in here for? To yell at me for being a man, for being attracted to you, for caring about you?”

“What are you . . . no, no, that’s not what I’m saying. You’re jumbling everything up. I’m telling you this has to stop.”

He leaned down until their lips were almost touching. “Do you remember when I kissed you in South Carolina? Do you remember how good it felt when you were in my arms?”

Her gaze fell to his lips. Her breaths came closer and closer together. “It was . . . nothing special. It was just a kiss.” She braced her hands on his chest.

He took another step closer, until he could feel the heat of her radiating toward him. “Why are you
really
so angry? Is it because you want me as much as I want you? Is it because you want me to kiss you again? Does that make you angry?”

“No. Yes.” She closed her eyes. “This is impossible.”

He tilted her chin up.

She opened her eyes.

“I won’t kiss you unless you ask me to,” he whispered. “Ask me.”

She licked her lips. Her fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him closer. She leaned up, but he backed away, just enough so their lips wouldn’t touch.

“Ask me,” he whispered again. “No regrets. It’s your choice.”

As soon as he said those words, she stiffened, and the fog of passion faded from her green eyes. Instead, anger flashed in their depths, like lightning ready to strike.

“Get away from me.” She flattened her hands against his chest and shoved.

She was surprisingly strong for her size, pushing him back a few inches.

He backed up some more, giving her the space she apparently needed. The space he needed too, because his blood was nearly on fire for wanting her. He still didn’t know what he’d said that had made her so angry, but he knew he was about to find out.

She glared up at him. “My choice? That’s what you said when all this started. You stole that letter, then threw it on me by saying I had to make a choice. You tricked me.” She gestured wildly with her hands. “This is a disaster. Casey wants me to trace my family tree, to work with you to look into my past. He won’t even consider letting me in on the main action with the task force. He reinstated me, but I’m on probation. The only thing he’ll let me do is babysit
you
.”

Matt stiffened. He waited a full minute before he could trust himself to speak without yelling. And then he waited another minute, until the anger faded from Tessa’s eyes, until her gaze dropped from his and she started fidgeting with the sleeve of her suit jacket. Now he was ready to talk, and she was ready to listen.

“First of all,” he said, “in case you were wondering, that was my brother Austin on the phone when you barged in here. He’s at my cabin and can’t find Ginger. She’s missing. Second, I want to make sure I understand everything you just said. Basically, you’re attracted to me, but you don’t want to act on that attraction because you’re worried about what other people might think. And you blame me for destroying the letter at the lab, even though I made sure you understood what would happen, and I let you make the final decision about whether to return the letter or not. And third, you blame me for some co-workers playing a silly little joke because I’m a few years younger than you but smart enough to appreciate a woman for her beauty and intelligence without caring about either of our ages. Do I have that right?”

Her face turned a bright shade of pink. “Um, yes.” Her voice was a rough whisper. “You do.”

“Then you, sweetheart, are a hypocrite and a snob.”

He collected his laptop from Casey’s desk and strode to the door. But before opening it, he paused and looked back at her.

“Has it ever occurred to you that the men you work with play jokes on you because you
are
one of them,
not
because you aren’t? And that they don’t mean any real harm? They’re called jokes for a reason.”

He walked out and firmly shut the door behind him.

T
ESSA STOOD IN
indecision, not sure what to think anymore, or what to do. Everything was so messed up. Was he right? Were her co-workers just teasing her out of fun, not because she wasn’t considered to be “one of the boys”? Was she a snob for caring about Matt’s age? Worst of all, was she a hypocrite to blame him for destroying the letter?

He was telling the truth about the letter. He
had
given her every chance to take the letter back to the FBI. But she’d wanted the results of those tests just as much, if not more, than he had. It wasn’t fair to continue to hold that against him, or to accuse him of tricking her, when she’d gone to her fate willingly.

She slumped against the wall. He was right. She owed the man an apology, at the very least. Maybe, if she hurried, she could catch him before he left the building. She rushed to the door and stepped into a hurricane.

People were running around, talking on phones, gesturing excitedly. Papers were strewn on the floor. Agents barked orders and ran into conference rooms.

She flagged down one of her fellow agents, who was juggling a stack of paper in his arms.

“What’s going on?” she demanded.

“Didn’t you hear? We got another letter. Only this one wasn’t mailed. It was found at the house where he took the girl.”

“What?” She grabbed his arm as he was about to run past her. “What girl? What letter?”

He yanked his arm out of her grasp and shoved one of the stapled sets of pages at her before hurrying to the main conference room.

Tessa looked down at the papers. The name Tonya Garrett was written on the top page, with the familiar “Ashes, ashes” line, and the tiny little squiggle that matched the one on her bracelet. She flipped through the rest of the pages. They were all color copies of a five-by-seven photo of a young teenager with shoulder-length dark brown hair.

She glanced up at the newscast playing on the nearest TV and pressed her hand to her throat. Ominous words scrolled across the bottom of the screen.

Seventeen-year-old Tonya Garrett, abducted from her bedroom last night in Savannah.

H
URRY, HURRY, HURRY!

Tessa belatedly wished she’d taken the stairs instead of the elevator. Usually it was a fast ride, but with so many people in the building for the task force it was taking forever to get everyone on board. Finally, the doors closed. When the chime sounded and the doors opened, Tessa squeezed her way past the other occupants as quickly as she could, her face heating from their aggravated looks. “Sorry, excuse me.”

She burst out into the hallway and ran full tilt toward the front door while trying to call Matt. The connection wouldn’t go through, too much interference. She stumbled onto the sidewalk out front, looking up and down the street for a familiar black Cadillac, even standing on her tiptoes and craning her neck to see past the trucks and SUVs parked up and down the curb. Damn. No sign of his car anywhere. She was too late.

“Looking for someone?”

She whirled around. Matt was leaning back against the building, looking devilishly handsome in his dark suit and aviator shades. He was apparently listening to music, because he was wearing those two odd, unattached earphones again, with little foam circles resting against his ears.

Relief swept through Tessa. “You. I was looking for you.”

He shoved the earphones into his suit jacket pocket and crossed his arms. “Why?”

The even tone of his voice gave nothing away about his mood. And with those dark shades on, she had no way of telling if he was even looking at her.

“I, ah, wanted to make sure you hadn’t left without me. The killer kidnapped a young girl here in town.”

His lips flattened. “I heard.”

“The killer didn’t mail a letter ahead of time. He left it at the scene. Which means he’s right here, in Savannah, and escalating. Casey’s putting up roadblocks and shutting down the bus stations and airport to search for the missing girl. The task force is pulling everyone together to find her in time. It’s all hands on deck.”