Disarming Detective (17 page)

This time Ella shook her head. “It’s unlikely. Even without sexual assault—and I actually wouldn’t be surprised to learn there was none—the behavioral details suggest a man. Is it within the realm of possibility that it’s a woman? Yes. But my professional opinion is that we’re looking for a man, and I suspect he’s somewhere between twenty and forty.”

Logan nodded and gulped down the rest of his coffee.

“Actually, maybe we need to think more about the burns.” She knew Logan wasn’t going to like this, given that he’d known the victim, but the burns were important. “Even though we’ve determined Theresa’s injuries weren’t branding, the burns could still tell us something about the killer.”

“Okay. You mentioned before that it could be how he tortures, right? If he’s a sadist?” Logan’s words were a little strangled, but he wasn’t backing away from the topic.

Ella put a hand over his, knowing this had to be a hard subject, and Logan turned his hand over and fit his fingers between hers.

Ella stared down at their linked hands, holding on a little tighter as if it would keep Logan connected to her.

Focus, Cortez.

“Yes. And serial arsonists and serial killers often share a desire to control, so that could be part of the appeal of fire for this guy. If inflicting pain to get a response from the victim is his end goal, then fire could simply be his means. But there’s a very good chance that fire has some special significance to him.”

“Right. You said maybe the killer had burns himself?”

“Yes, and if he does, they would be severe.”

Logan frowned. “I don’t know anyone like that. And I’m not sure how we’d get that information, other than maybe just asking around.”

“Maybe we should call the fire stations, here and in the neighboring towns, see if they can give us any insight.”

“Sure, let’s try,” Logan said, but he sounded as discouraged as she felt.

Who was this killer? Usually, by this point, Ella would have been firmly in his head. She would’ve been able to anticipate his next move, and she’d have a much clearer picture of what kind of person he was, and why he killed.

Usually, she also had more to go on. More victims, more crime scenes, just more. But still, her instincts were humming, persistently telling her that she was missing something important.

Ella knew if she didn’t figure out what that was, the killer was going to get away with murdering Theresa. And right now, he was probably already targeting someone else, maybe even Logan’s little sister.

She couldn’t let that happen.

* * *

“
I
COULD
REALLY
use a few rounds with a punching bag right about now,” Ella told Logan as she buckled up.

They’d spent the rest of the day talking to the different fire stations, tracking down information on burn victims in Oakville and the neighboring towns. But all of the leads had fizzled fast.

They were one day closer to Ella needing to leave, and she felt no closer to the killer’s identity. Frustration boiled inside of her, with no ready outlet.

“Me, too,” Logan said as he started up the car. “I’ve got one in my basement. You’re welcome to come over and work out your aggression there.”

Ella studied his profile as he pulled away from the station to drive her back to her hotel. She stared at the hard lines of his face, which looked formidable, until he smiled. And then he’d flash those green eyes at her and all her brain cells would cease to function until the only thing left was a powerful yearning.

Wanting to be with someone had never been so complicated for her before. Usually, if she was interested, she gave it a shot. Usually, everything was light and easy and simple until it was over. And she might be sad for a while, might be perplexed about what had gone wrong, but she’d never felt this much angst over anyone. Never felt this soul-deep certainty that to lose this man might be more than she could bear.

Every time she looked at Logan, she was tempted to take what she could get, while she was here, but then her brain would shout a warning that it wouldn’t be enough. And if she wanted anything more, she was going to have to take a risk.

So she swallowed her fear, took a deep breath, and asked the question she’d been wondering for days. “Why did you and Lyla break up?”

At her quiet, serious tone, Logan glanced at her. The car slowed before he seemed to realize what he was doing and he put his foot back down on the gas. “I thought we might get onto this topic again.”

Her immediate instinct was to backtrack, to tell him he didn’t have to answer if he didn’t want to, but instead she kept her mouth shut and waited. Her heart pounded as she hoped he’d tell her it was about more than just the distance. Because if he wouldn’t leave Oakville for a fiancée, what chance was there for some woman who’d known him less than a week?

And for her, there was no option besides Aquia. She couldn’t be an FBI profiler anywhere else. And she’d changed the entire course of her life, become estranged from her family, worked way too many hours, to get there. Now she was finally in a job where she might actually be able to bring down the Fishhook Rapist, fulfill the unspoken part of her pact with Scott and Maggie from a decade ago.

“Around the time my promotion to detective came through, Lyla got the offer for the position as an on-camera reporter. I knew that’s what she wanted to do and Oakville doesn’t have a local news affiliate.”

Logan watched the road, his forehead creased as he continued. “In the end, that’s what did it. She wanted to go and I wanted to stay. Finally, we agreed it wasn’t going to work. My whole family is here, and you can probably tell we’re really close. I never planned to leave Oakville. I thought she’d be happy here, too.”

He lifted his shoulders. “I guess it’s probably good she got the offer when she did and not after we were married, because our relationship wasn’t strong enough to make it through that.”

Ella nodded, as though she understood, but she really didn’t. How could they not work through something like that? It wasn’t as though Lyla had left Florida, so Logan would still have been close to his family. And he could have been a detective anywhere.

But then again, she’d never been in a relationship where she’d even considered something as serious as marriage, so who was she to say? Because if it came right down to it, she didn’t know if she could ever leave Aquia, leave BAU, even after they found the Fishhook Rapist. Not for any guy. Not even someone she wanted as desperately as she wanted Logan.

Logan glanced at her, as though waiting for her to comment, but what was there to say? If another city in Florida was too far from his family, Virginia was out of the question. Yeah, maybe short-term they could make long-distance work, but where would that ultimately leave them? If they didn’t have a shot at a real future, why set herself up for heartbreak? So, she just nodded again, looking out the window even though it was too dark to see anything but the headlights from other cars.

When he pulled up in front of her hotel and put the car in park, she turned toward him. She couldn’t seem to smile, couldn’t seem to bring herself to say anything at all, so she just unhooked her seatbelt, leaned into him and pressed her lips to his.

Whenever she’d kissed him in the past, it had been almost instantaneous combustion. But this time, his hand slid around to the back of her head, and he kissed her slowly, thoroughly. The scruff on his chin scratched as his lips caressed hers softly, over and over. It was as if he was giving her a chance to memorize the feel of him. As if he knew it would be the last time.

When he finally pulled back, Ella blinked rapidly, trying to keep the moisture in her eyes at bay, then got out of his car before she could change her mind and beg him to come with her. Beg him never to leave.

Knowing she’d made the right choice didn’t stop the tears from spilling over as she went into the hotel alone. And it didn’t stop a heavy weight from pressing on her chest, as though she’d just lost something very, very important.

* * *

“
L
OGAN
?”

Ella sat up in bed, his name on her lips before she was fully conscious, before she even realized what had awakened her. She blinked at the alarm clock next to her bed. 6:00 a.m.

Then she stretched across the bed to grab her ringing phone. “Isabella Cortez,” she said, her voice still husky with sleep.

“Ella, it’s Logan.”

Come over.
The words were already forming on her lips when Logan spoke.

“We found Laurie Donaldson.”

Dread rushed through Ella at Logan’s dire tone, and she was instantly wide-awake.

“She was in the marsh. There’s no question now, Ella. We were right. We’ve got a serial killer.”

And if he’d dumped Laurie’s body, he would soon be trolling for a new victim.

Ella pushed back the covers. “I’m on my way.”

Chapter Thirteen

Everyone in Oakville was frantic and afraid. Locals and tourists alike were crammed into every available space in the front area of the police station, demanding answers.

Logan kept his head down and pushed through them to the locked door and into the back room. But everyone in town knew he was lead on the case, and the questions followed him.

How close were the police to finding the killer? How were they supposed to keep themselves safe? How could this happen in Oakville, of all places?

Logan didn’t have any good answers, so he didn’t even try to respond. He just pulled the door closed behind him and rubbed a hand over his eyes, which felt like sandpaper after only five hours of sleep.

As soon as the call had come in, he’d thrown on the first clothes he’d found in his closet and raced to the morgue, where Laurie’s body had just been taken. He’d stayed for the autopsy, then called Ella on his way to the station.

He’d wanted to call her as soon as he got the news. He’d had his cell phone in hand, her number already dialed, when he’d changed his mind. As a detective, he’d stood through autopsies before. Every single time, he’d puked his guts out as soon as he left. This time had been no different.

But Logan knew Ella, as a profiler, wouldn’t normally go to the autopsies. She dealt with the aftermath, and that was bad enough.

He knew she’d insist on being there if he called her, so he’d waited, hoping to spare her from having those images burned into her brain.

Logan pressed a hand to his mouth, trying not to gag as one of the images he’d had imprinted in his mind rushed forward. He didn’t think anything was going to be as bad as witnessing Theresa’s autopsy, since he’d known her when she was alive. But the knowledge that he’d been chasing this killer when Laurie was grabbed, the knowledge that he could have prevented it if he’d found the killer, had made this autopsy just as difficult.

Logan entered the conference room, and the smell of burnt coffee wafting up from the carafe made his stomach churn, even though there couldn’t possibly have been anything left in there.

“Logan.” Hank clapped a hand on his arm. “You were right.” There was newfound respect in Hank’s voice as he shook his head and said, “It really is a serial killer.”

Logan looked up from the T-shirt he just noticed he’d put on backward in his haste to get moving when he’d gotten the call. “I wish I hadn’t been.”

“I hear you.”

“Wait. Where’s Ella?” He’d sent Hank to pick her up, not wanting Ella to walk all the way to the station from the other side of Oakville. Not alone. Not with a serial killer loose. He didn’t care how many people were around at this time of day. “She was waiting at the hotel for you, wasn’t she?”

Logan heard the panic in his voice and Hank must have, too, because he said, “Relax. She’s right behind me.”

And when Hank moved aside, there was Ella.

Relief rushed through Logan.

Instead of her usual knee-length skirt and T-shirt loose enough to hide her holster, Ella was wearing a pair of capris and a tank top, her gun on display on her hip. Her hair was tied back in a messy ponytail and dark circles showed below her eyes. But she was unhurt, and so, to him, she looked perfect.

Her expression was grim. “Who found Laurie’s body?”

Logan gave himself a second to absorb the fact that Ella really was okay, then said, “A couple of tourists who decided they wanted to kayak deep into the marsh and watch the sunrise from there. Luckily, one of them took a cell phone and they called us when they spotted her. Officers on duty borrowed a boat and went out to get her. I just got back from the autopsy.”

Ella paused midway to the table, blinking at him. She sounded a little hurt when she asked, “Why didn’t you call me earlier?”

Hank took that as his cue to leave, backing out of the room quickly.

“I didn’t think there was any reason for both of us to have to watch that,” Logan said. Trying to lighten the mood, he added, “Plus, I figured you might think less of me if I threw up on your shoes.”

“Thanks. I’ve never had to watch an autopsy.” She crossed her arms, as if the very idea gave her chills. “The photos are hard enough.”

He nodded at the folder he’d put on the table as he sat down. “I’m afraid I brought some of those. I thought you might want to see them, in case it tells you something about the killer.”

Ella was still for a moment, then her shoulders stiffened and she marched to the table and sat beside him, fast, as if she didn’t want to give herself time to change her mind. Whether it was about seeing the photos or getting close to him, he wasn’t entirely sure.

When she was next to him, he wanted to wrap his hand around hers—to comfort himself as much as her. If it had been yesterday, he would have. But that kiss she’d given him last night...

It had felt like goodbye.

He’d known she wouldn’t like hearing the reason his last serious relationship hadn’t worked. That he’d thought enough of someone to propose marriage, but hadn’t stuck by his promise. But at least he and Lyla had both realized it would be a mistake before going through with it. And he’d told Ella the truth. He wasn’t going to lie to her.