Code Name: Kayla's Fire (11 page)

“So do you,” she whispered,
the words catching in her throat.

“I do. It’s what you
taught me.” Slipping his arms around her slender waist, he pinned her body to
the valleys of his. She filled all the missing parts in him. “Kayla, you’re the
only woman who ever saw the man, not the warrior in me.” He kissed her, and
their tears met on their lips.

She kissed his cheek,
her lips only straying an inch and kissing him again. “I’m not afraid of the
Shark, and I won’t leave until he’s caught.” Releasing his hand, she took a
step back. “I know we have never…talked, but if you want—” She jumped when he
pulled away from her, and slammed the door.

Talk?
She said it as if she were his sister, not the woman he loved. They’d shared
moments of wild ecstasy, moaning into each other’s mouths, wrapped in each
other’s arms, so close they were almost one being. Before he lost it
completely, he drove away.

Two miles down the
road, he pulled over, because he couldn’t see it any more, and cried like he’d
never cried in his life. All the memories; death, hate, the sounds of war, the
trembling legs of peace, scrambled up with Kayla’s smile, her laughter, loving
her. For the last twenty years he thought he’d accepted what he’d done, but he
hadn’t. The things he’d seen chewed into him until he became a black hole.
Every time he took a life, it had taken a chunk of him, until human life became
unworthy. Through Kayla’s eyes, he began to forgive himself, and see there was
still a man with empathy left inside the warrior.

In Arizona, Cobbs had
said,
God brought Kayla to you.
He
didn’t want to believe it, but he’d found hope could still exist within the
darkness, and he found it in the most unlikely place—Kayla’s heart. He swiped
at his eyes, his mind swirling like a whirlpool with one question. Why would
she leave him? It sucked every other thought into its churning force. She
needed a happily ever after, a man to protect her, be there for her, and
he—would always be a warrior. She knew it. She’d always known it, and so did
he. It’s why she’d never told him she loved him. She’d already done that with
another warrior, and he’d ripped her to pieces.

His fist hammered the
steering wheel, and then he hammered it again. A cyclone of loss swept through him,
shredding him, ripping the stones of a path he’d begun to lay, and never got to
walk on, away. She was going to marry Lapierre. She was going to leave. He’d
lost Kayla. For the first time in his life, the harsh bite of heartache tore
him open, and something died inside him. Hope.

Chapter Ten

“I haven’t seen him in three days,” Greg said, holding the door to the
San Diego Triumph building open for her.

“Neither have I,” she said, feeling the lump in her throat thicken.
He’s probably working with Manchester.

Greg forked his fingers through hers, and led the way to the
elevators. “No, Manchester hasn’t seen him either, nor has the team.”

“What?” Stopping on the spot, a woman following them nearly ran into
her, but did a quick zig to her zag. “What did you say to him, Greg?”

Greg drew her to the edge of the busy lobby. His familiar hands slid
down her arms, and folded around hers. Greg, like his brother, like Thane, always
made her feel exposed. All three of the men in her life were impressive, not
only in their features and physique, but in their hearts. She loved Greg, and
no woman in her right mind would want to refuse his rugged beauty, his alluring
draw, but her heart transmitted little messages to her mind these past few
days. She knew she could have a good life with Greg. Saying yes to forever with
him wouldn’t be a mistake, but it wasn’t what she wanted.

“I told him the truth,
mon amour
.
I told him I’d asked you to marry me.” His gaze darted away from hers.

“Greg,” she hissed. “I said I was considering moving home.”

Greg’s large but always gentle hand slid around her waist. “With time,
you’ll believe me when I tell you, you’re all I want.”

“I believe that already.” She covered his hand.

“We have been together since we were eighteen, Kayla. Our lives are
twisted together through all the hard and the good times. We love each other.
You’ve held me back for all the wrong reasons.”

She swallowed, knowing what she wanted to say, but she didn’t want to
hurt him either. “Greg, we do love each other. I don’t know what I would have
done if you hadn’t been in my life all these years.” She hugged him close,
afraid of being totally honest with him, afraid that if he knew what she felt
for Thane, she’d lose him. “You are my most trusted friend in the whole world,
but saying I’m considering coming home is not the same as saying ‘I do.’”

“I’ve already put in for a transfer.” He leaned over and kissed her,
his strong, sure lips marking hers. “We’re going to have the rest of our lives
together, Kayla. The way it should have been.”

Why did all the men around her have to have a Master’s degree in
stubborn? “I have a serial killer to catch, and I’m not leaving until I do.”

Greg’s lids hooded his brilliant eyes, and he nodded slightly. “But
you are leaving?”

“Please, we can talk about this later.”

“I don’t want later. I’m not going home without you. You’re too far
away from me. Kayla, Austen is not a one-woman man. He’ll hurt you.”

She peered around uncomfortably. “That’s not true.”

“The guy has never settled down. He’s never had a committed
relationship.”

“Neither have you. Don’t point a crooked finger at him.”

“Angel.” He grabbed her shoulders, and lowered his head, searing her
with the beautiful eyes all the Lapierres had been gifted with. “I
have
been committed. To you. I’ve spent
my entire adult life waiting for you.”

Her brows furrowed. “I didn’t ask you to.”

“Have you even been honest with him? Does he know what we share?
How…close we are.”

She swallowed deeply. “Mostly, yes.”

Heat wavered in Greg’s eyes. “But not all of it. You left one part out,
didn’t you?”

“I’m not going to argue about this. Our life, what we are, is between
you and me, that’s it. Now let’s go.”

Pushing open the frosted glass door to the San Diego Triumph, they
entered a neat, modern waiting area. Two women looked up at them with welcoming
smiles.

“We’re here to see Casey Burton,” Greg said as they approached the
reception desk.

The blonde stood up, and her gaze flashed with appreciation across his
torso. “You have an appointment?”

“Yes, Lieutenant Commander Lapierre and Lieutenant Banks.”

The woman gave her a quick once-over. “Have a seat. He’s running a few
minutes behind.”

They settled in a cool tan leather couch that did a great job of
gobbling her ass. She pulled out her cell, and sent a text to Thane.
Where R U?
“Don’t use my rank. I don’t
have it anymore,” she said, waiting for Thane’s usual quick response. She
checked her battery power when it didn’t come.

“Burton doesn’t need to know that.”

The blonde approached them within a couple minutes. “Follow me,
please.”

They walked a curving, carpeted path through a maze of cubicles and
offices lining the center of the massive office space. The blonde knocked on a
corner office door and then opened it. “Lieutenant Commander Lapierre and Lieutenant
Banks,” she said.

Casey Burton looked about the same in person as he did on TV, blond,
late thirties, and a distinct snake-oil salesman smile.

“Come in, have a seat.” He waited until they were both seated before
he swaggered around his desk to shake their hands. “You’re both from NAB
Coronado?”

“No,” Greg said. “I’m from Canada, actually.”

Burton’s brows quirked. “But you’re here because of the Blood Shark.
You said you had information. Since I’ve been leading the investigation, I was
interested in hearing what you had to say.”

Leading the investigation? This guy didn’t think
much of himself, did he?

Greg’s rigid posture and distinctive features were bereft of
friendliness. It had the desired effect, wiping the cheesy smile off Burton’s
face. “Have a seat yourself, Mr. Burton.”

He did, without question. Although Burton tried to regroup, he looked
uncomfortable.

“Mr. Burton, I work at NAB Coronado,” she offered. “We’ve learned
something about the Shark.”

“What’s that?” he asked, fiddling with a pen

She leaned forward and reflected for a moment. “Well, I think we both
have information. An exchange could be beneficial.”

“I’m always open to enlightenment. Would you like something to drink?”

“No, thank you. We thought we’d come see you before the police do.”

“I’ve been working with the police. I believe our men in blue need a
hand on this one.”

“I’m sure you are. I’m also sure that you know more than you’re
sharing. In fact, I’m a hundred percent certain that you are withholding
information for your own benefit.”

A subtle but mocking expression blossomed on Burton’s face. “Now, Ms.
Banks, that would be cold and calculating. That’s not me.”

“I think it is. You were the first person to name the Shark. Before
any information was leaked about him, you coined the Blood Shark handle. Why
did you pick that name?”

She was sure Greg saw it too, a whisper of doubt, and a slight tensing
of his body. “Ms. Banks, I haven’t missed the fact that your characteristics
are very similar to the women the Shark has victimized. You being here,
explains a lot, without you having to say a word.”

She glanced out the large floor-to-ceiling window that framed Burton.
From the fifteenth floor of the building, he had a great view of the city and
the sea. She wondered whether he had moved into it recently. A perk for
breaking the Shark story. “This is a wonderful office, Mr. Burton. Great view.
Quiet. You no longer have to share the noise level out among the other
reporters.” She nodded with slow appreciation.

The smile disappeared completely from Burton’s face, which told her he
had something to be worried about.

“Your point?”

Greg leaned forward. “Ms. Banks’ point is simple, Mr. Burton. If the
police find out that you had any knowledge that would have resolved this case
before so many women were brutally murdered, your career is over. Slaughtered like
the women the Shark has left, and just as dead.” Greg had rattled him. “Why did
you name him the Blood Shark?”

“Before I divulge that, maybe you would consider sharing your
information. Are you being stalked, Ms. Banks?” The barely concealed excitement
in Burton’s eyes was nauseating.

“Yes,” she said abruptly.

“What has he done?”

She craned her neck to look at Greg. They passed a look between them.
Time to leave. From this point forward, it would be like a dog chasing its
tail. She had what she needed, and she doubted Burton would give up any more,
because it would mean complicity in the murders.

“Thanks for your time, Mr. Burton.” Greg stood, and placed a hand on
the small of her back.

“Wait a minute. You said you had something to share. You haven’t told
me anything.”

“No, but you’ve told us what we wanted to know.”

Burton practically vaulted from his chair. “I have not had any contact
with the Shark.” She and Greg sidestepped the chairs. Burton’s expensive suit
jacket rumpled when he shoved his hands in his pockets. They continued toward
the door. “I saw him.”

They both stopped, but didn’t turn.

“From afar. I’d been on the base for a late interview. God!” Burton
ran both hands through his hair. “He’d already killed her, and he had a jar
with him, and some kind of syringe. It was fucking awful. He must have been
finished, because he twisted a cap on the container, and then leaned over and
kissed her on the forehead. Sick fucker. I ran to find the first security guard
I could, but the Shark and the victim were gone when we returned. There wasn’t
a sign of the murder. Maybe he used plastic. It was dark, I don’t know. I
learned a while later the women were practically sucked dry of blood.”

“A description.” Greg said, turning his immense frame toward Burton.

“It was around eleven at night. I couldn’t make out a lot. Middle-aged,
male, short hair, probably dark. Good shape, maybe a little over six foot. I
told the police all of this.”

“We’ll check with Manchester. If you’re not telling us the truth, you
can expect another visit from the police,” she said, giving Greg a small nudge.

“Did you watch him walk away?” Greg asked.

Burton chewed on the inside of his mouth. “He took a few steps, yes.”

Greg’s wheels were turning, but she wasn’t sure where he was going
with this. “Would you recognize his stride?”

“Doubt it,” Burton answered and swallowed. “I want him caught just as
much as everyone else.”

Greg looked doubtful. “NAB Coronado is a naval base. Why are you
assuming he’s a SEAL?”

“Because of this.” Burton yanked his drawer open, and plucked a photo
from it, enlarged to an eight and a half, by eleven, and tossed it on the desk.
“I stayed and answered questions that night while the police investigated the
scene.”

She and Greg took the few steps to his desk. Greg picked it up, and
she tilted her head to look. “This was left at the scene?” she asked, looking
down at the picture, a little blurry and obviously taken on the sly by Burton.
“That’s a KA-Bar knife.”

“I can’t read the name inscribed on it, but I’m sure the police have
already investigated this.”

“I’m sure they have and dismissed it. It’s a good red herring,” she
said. “Do you honestly think he’d leave his weapon behind?”

“Maybe it slipped out. Killers make mistakes, that’s how they’re
caught.”

She didn’t know what to think, but her gut told her that no SEAL did
this. The knife was left on purpose. She raised her eyes. “Do you think he knew
you were there?”

Burton’s eyes widened a little, and he adjusted his shoulders. “No.”

“You’re lying,” she blurted. “He knew you were there, and he used you
to lead the police in the wrong direction. You’re perpetuating a lie, and
accusing the wrong group, Mr. Burton.”

Burton sighed, and took the picture from Greg. “Why do you think he
wants you?”

“I’m in his crosshairs. I fit the profile, as you’ve pointed out.”

“He’s been in contact with you, like the others, you received
something from him.”

She nodded. “If you know anything else, you need to think about the
women, and not your career.”

Greg didn’t speak until they were clear of the building. “Still not
sharing all of it,” he noted.

“Agreed, but it’s a dead end. He won’t share any more.”

“Dinner?”

“No, take me back to the base.” She had something more important to
deal with, glancing at her phone. A text from Nina. One from Barry, but nothing
from Thane. “
Un moment,
Greg.” She
steered away from the car, and sat down on a bench scanning her phone list.
Cobbs picked up on the second ring.

“Hello.”

“Lieutenant Cobbs?”

The line was silent for longer than it should have been. “Snow White,
leave him alone. He just has to lick his wounds.”

“Why isn’t he answering my calls? Why isn’t he at work?” She heard
footsteps, and a door click shut.