Breath of Malice (11 page)

One hour later, Sam led Paige to an office across from the morgue, which was located in the basement of the building that housed the Columbia Bureau Offices. A woman seated at the polished desk glanced up.

“Been a while, Sam,” she said.

“Lindy, how’ve you been?”

The woman had a round, ruddy-cheeked face that contrasted her dyed emerald-green hair. She peeled her lips back from her teeth and squeezed her eyes in a comical expression. “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you. Isn’t that what you feds say, or maybe that’s the spies?”

Sam smiled and turned to Paige. “Lindy, this is Agent Paige Carson from our office. Paige, Dr. Melinda Walden.”

Walden came around her desk. “Paige, good to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Paige returned Walden’s robust handshake.

Walden led the way across the hall and through the double doors into the morgue. The autopsy theater was brightly lit and cool, illuminating every corner of the polished surfaces and tiled floor. Like the other morgues Paige had been in, this one smelled of disinfectant and harsh cleaning products. A thin man garbed in a lab coat and wearing surgical gloves stood over the body.

Walden pulled her hair back from her face and secured it with a rubber band at her nape. She made her way to the sinks and began to wash her hands. “Sam, you remember Tom, my assistant.” Without waiting for the men to respond, she went on, “Sam, we’ve already taken her photos and X-rays.” Walden dried her hands, then donned gloves and a lab coat. “Okay, lady and gents, let’s get started.”

The door thudded open, followed by the click of quick footsteps. The sounds diverted everyone’s attention to the man in the three-piece suit and polished shoes who rushed into the room.

Walden gave the newcomer a steely-eyed look. “Mr. Stone, I wasn’t sure you were going to make it.”

“Sorry I’m late.” Stone went to Sam and extended his hand. “Walter Stone, I’m on Senator Glaxton’s personal staff. You must be Agent McKade.”

“Mr. Stone. Senator Glaxton told us he would be sending a representative to witness the autopsy.” Sam shook the man’s hand.

Quick introductions were made, then Walden raised one thick eyebrow. “Mr. Stone, you aren’t going to puke all over my nice clean floor, are you?”

Stone shook his head. “No, Doctor.”

But Paige could see he’d gone a little paler than he’d been when he’d first entered the room.

Walden nodded once briskly. “Once again, then, let’s get this show on the road.”

She activated the Dictaphone with her foot. She recited the date, time of day, and the victim’s name, and identified those in attendance.

Tom inserted a film in the X-ray viewer on the wall and flicked on the light switch. Walden studied the film without blinking and began recording her findings, pausing only to ask Tom to change X-rays.

She cataloged the condition of the body, meticulously charting tissue samples, making sure to observe the vital chain of custody. Paige was reminded that the same carefulness had been missing in the Thames investigation.

After some time passed, Sam asked, “Cause of death, Lindy?”

Walden stopped the Dictaphone and went to the X-ray viewer. She touched the screen with her gloved hand. “See here? These breaks show injury to the spinal cord occurred at the C3 to C5 vertebrae. Cervical breaks above the fifth vertebra cut off air. This woman died of asphyxiation resulting from a broken neck.”

Sam asked, “Time of death?”

“I’d say between seven and ten o’clock in the evening. I looked at this gal before we cleaned her. She looked like she was ready for a night on the town. Your killer didn’t so much as smear her lipstick.”

Walden went to the tray containing the instruments she’d been using—probes, slides, measuring tools—and selected one. She gently lifted Lambert’s hand and scraped beneath one polished fingernail. Walden dragged the tip of the instrument across a slide, then presented the slide for Sam’s inspection.

“Nothing under the nails.” Walden said. She clucked her tongue. “Can’t say I’m surprised, given the condition of the body.” She gave Sam a level look. “I don’t understand this killer. How the hell are you supposed to catch him if you can’t understand him?”

After the autopsy, Sam pulled into a restaurant outside Columbia. It was time for lunch, but once inside, Paige’s stomach balked at anything heavy. They settled into one of the deep hunter-green booths, and despite the hot day, Paige ordered plain tomato soup. Sam didn’t comment on her choice and ordered his own meal.

While they waited for the food to arrive, Paige said, “Bob at the crime scene called it down to the time of death. It appears Lambert’s killer came up behind her, catching her unaware, then snapped her neck.”

“He would need to have a certain amount of strength to do that,” Sam said, “and he’d have to be able to keep her subdued while he did it. He could have hidden in the trees, lying in wait. But for her specifically, or for anyone? Was she a random pick? Even if Thames did kill her to make some kind of statement to you, of all of the women in Kirk, why her? We keep coming back to that.”

Paige licked her now dry lips. “He had to have held her close to his body, but forensics didn’t find so much as a stray hair or fiber. No trace evidence on the body at all. No skin, hair, or fibers under her nails, though if he surprised her and got the job done quickly, she likely didn’t know what was happening.”

Sam gave her a look. “He could be the luckiest son of a bitch we’ve ever run across, or else—”

Paige voiced her fear. “He’s done this before.”

Sam nodded. “Yeah. We’ll look for similar crimes where victims’ necks were broken. We’ll cover all angles until we either confirm or eliminate Thames.”

Thames had left no trace evidence on his confirmed victims, either. In her lap, Paige clasped her hands tightly together.

“Harry called,” Sam added. “Our check on Holt came back clean.” Sam drummed his knuckles on the tabletop. “We’re missing something.” He paused. “Thames or some other unsub didn’t hide the body.”

“Thames never killed openly like this,” Paige said.

“I don’t buy that the unsub thought he didn’t have time to hide the body. That he just dropped her and made his getaway. The scene looked too staged. The actions seem too calculated. Lambert’s killer must have taken into consideration that he might be seen.” Sam shook his head. “He made no attempt to muddy the waters by taking her cash or jewelry, to make this look like a mugging. He didn’t attempt to make her death look like anything more than it was: a murder. And he left her where she would be found quickly. I’d say he wanted us to find the body.”

They’d had this theory since they’d viewed the crime scene. The waitress arrived with their meals. Sam eyed the food on his plate, but Paige didn’t think he really saw it. His thoughts were elsewhere.

After a moment, he said quietly, “Once we find out why he wanted the body found, we’ll have him.”

They finished their meal in silence, lost in thought. On the drive back, Paige called Ivy, who was at lunch in the school cafeteria. Riley, whom Sam had assigned to her, would keep watch until Paige got home. Rather than returning to the office where the activists continued to protest, Sam drove them to his place.

Paige preceded him into the living room. The temperature inside the house should have been comfortably cool, but Paige was cold on the inside and shivered.

Sam’s brows lowered, and he raised the temperature inside the house. His tone soft, he said, “I want you to tell me again about Thames.”

Another chill went through her as she went over it all again. After she’d completed the retelling, she closed her eyes, willing back the horror that was now all too close to the surface. She felt Sam’s hand on her face and opened her eyes.

Sam had listened intently, his hard body growing more rigid with each word she spoke. Fury sparked in his eyes. She wasn’t used to anyone feeling anger on her behalf. She didn’t know how to handle it.

With the pad of his thumb, he gently caressed her cheek. “I’m sorry I asked you to relive that. If it hadn’t been necessary, I wouldn’t have. I would do anything to spare you more hurt.”

She didn’t think anyone could possibly know what it did to her to go over it all again, but the deep emotion in Sam’s voice, the fury on her behalf, and his acceptance that she was telling the truth had tears burning her throat.

He saw her reaction and brought her close. “I’m sorry.”

Her instinct was to back away. She’d shown Sam more of herself than she had anyone else. Showing so much of herself left her feeling vulnerable.

But when she tried to retreat from him, Sam held on. He went on holding her. The last of her defenses crumbled. Panic made her blurt her next words. “I can’t be this way with you.”

Sam looked down at her, his eyes burning into hers. “Don’t be
any way
, just be Paige.”

No one, not even her family, had ever wanted the real Paige. She pressed her face to his chest and held tight to his words, held tight to him.

“Just be Paige,” he murmured against her ear.

He slid his lips from her ear, kissed her hair, her eyes, her cheeks. Then his mouth moved over hers in a tender caress, a soft glancing of his lips over hers. It was an expression of caring unlike any Paige had ever known before. She made a soft mewling sound. It was a sound of emotional need drawn from her very depths.

His lips brushed hers again gently, and this time she kissed him back. She couldn’t hold herself from him any longer.

Their mouths fused in a kiss that was hot, wet, hungry. Sam’s arms banded around her. She could feel him straining for her. She surged toward him, and her breasts pressed against his chest.

“Paige, beautiful Paige,” Sam murmured. “I want you. God, I want you.”

She could feel the proof of his raging desire pressing against her belly. Her own body was pulsing for him, a need that stole her breath. Sam was her boss. She didn’t need this complication. But she wanted him. Wanted to reach out and take what he could give her. See what they could give each other, even for a little while. They were about to step over a line, one Paige would never have believed she would cross. But the line blurred when it came to Sam. “I want you, too.”

Her breathless admission snapped whatever restraint Sam had been exercising. He took her lips and now her tongue as well, devouring her mouth in a heated, carnal kiss. He slid his hands down her spine and cupped her bottom, lifting her. She wrapped her legs around him. The dress she wore beneath a matching jacket hiked up her thighs as Sam walked them up the stairs to the loft. Gently, he deposited her on his bed.

He came down with her but braced himself over her, bearing the weight of his big body on one arm. Paige couldn’t wait to see him unclothed. She tugged at his suit jacket and tie. Sam threw the jacket off, yanked off the tie, then threw the clothes on the floor. Paige’s hands went to his white shirt. He began undoing buttons, then, losing patience, pulled the shirt off over his head. All the beautifully sculpted muscles his clothing had hinted at flexed and rippled. He was hard everywhere. His skin pulled taut over his hard broad shoulders, wide chest, and bulging biceps.

She reached between them and unzipped him, freeing him. He was wonderfully, magnificently aroused. She couldn’t keep from touching him. She took him in her hands and stroked him. Sam bucked in her grasp, and he groaned long and low.

“My turn,” Sam said, his voice low and thick.

Paige reluctantly released him. He unzipped her cream-colored dress and snagged the hem. He drew it up over her head, then tossed it, baring her lacy bra and her barely there panties. Sam’s eyes blazed. He wound his arm around her back and lifted her, undoing the back bra clasp. Then he slid her panties down and off.

The way this was going, they wouldn’t last long. He would soon be inside of her. In anticipation, Paige felt another jolt of arousal.

But as far gone as Sam obviously was, he didn’t rush to the finish as she’d expected. Instead, he laid her back on the bed gently. They locked eyes and he lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her so softly. Again, she felt undone by such tenderness, powerless against it. Overcome, she wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him to her.