Midnight Fear (11 page)

“A
re you arguing because of me?” Caitlyn asked as Reid closed her office door behind him. Despite her attempt to appear calm, she looked pale and as skittish as a colt. It was clear David Hunter had rattled her.

Reid rubbed the back of his neck, deciding to tell her the truth. “Agent Tierney thinks I’ve become too personally involved.”

Her green eyes were uncertain. “Are you?”

“I think you know the answer to that, Caitlyn,” he said in a low rasp. He’d had the stress of the MRI on his mind, and he had come up here craving the comfort of her presence. But Reid had allowed himself to get too caught up in his attraction to her, risking her life in the process. He’d been the one telling her to be careful and what had he done? He’d taken her out to an isolated area of her property. And instead of keeping himself on high alert, they’d been having a full-on make-out session. Letting things get out of hand.

“What occurred between us this afternoon was my
fault. I shouldn’t have let it happen,” he said. He hated the look of pain he saw on her features.

When she finally spoke, her eyes didn’t quite meet his. “What was Agent Tierney saying about Springdale Penitentiary? Is there something I need to know?”

She had to be filled in on the situation. Caitlyn had heard too much of their conversation and besides, Reid knew Mitch was right. If they had to use her to get the locations of the other bodies, that was what they’d have to do. Giving some peace to the families was too important.

“There’s been speculation Joshua is responsible for murders beyond the six he stood trial for. Five other women who disappeared. You’re aware of that?”

“But there’s no solid evidence. You weren’t able to make any connection—”

“He’s offered to give up one of the bodies, Caitlyn.” Reid saw the impact of his words on her. She seemed to crumple in the knowledge that her brother was responsible for more deaths. He ran a hand through his damp hair and sighed. “He wants a meeting with you in exchange. Do you think you can do that?”

“Will you go with me?”

“I’ll take you there. I’ll be right outside the door, watching through the observation window. You’ll be completely safe.” He stepped closer. “But Joshua wants to see you alone. That’s the deal.”

She was still for a long moment, then nodded.

“I have to go back to D.C. We’re taking Hunter into federal custody.”

“That poor man.”

“He pulled a gun on us,” Reid reminded.

“He’s out of his mind with grief. Can’t you see that?”

He fell silent. His gut told him Hunter wasn’t their copycat, but Mitch was right about that, too—his actions made him a viable suspect. At the least, he was guilty of stalking Caitlyn and threatening her with a lethal weapon. If Reid hadn’t been there—if Ruiz hadn’t shown up when he did—he wondered if she would be dead right now.

“Is there anyone you can stay with tonight, Caitlyn? I don’t think you should be alone, not after what happened.”

“Manny’s a phone call away. He has a room upstairs.” She looked upward, indicating a second floor to the stables.

“Someone
besides
Ruiz.”

Caitlyn folded her arms over her chest. Reid’s statement had clearly brought up some well of thought within her. “Why didn’t you tell me Manny was imprisoned for beating up the man who was physically abusing his daughter?”

Reid felt heat rise under his skin. “It’s still assault and battery. And kidnapping. He’s still an ex-con who may or may not have known your brother. In my opinion, that’s enough to keep him away from you.”

“That’s not your decision.”

“No,” he agreed, voice tight.

The damp sweater Caitlyn wore had lost its shape, stretching out over her fingertips and below her hips,
engulfing her and making her look small and childlike. He could see the empathy shimmering in her eyes for Ruiz, and also for David Hunter. It wasn’t fair someone with as good a heart as Caitlyn’s had been shackled to Joshua Cahill for life. Without his infamy, she would no doubt be married by now, probably have a child or two and be living the privileged lifestyle her parents had intended for her.

But instead she was achingly alone. Reid recalled that she’d had a fiancé during the Capital Killer investigation, an up-and-coming senatorial aide with an Ivy League background. Their relationship had ended following Joshua’s arrest. Reid had ruined that for her, too.

“You should go,” she said softly.

Caitlyn stayed in the shower for what seemed like an eternity, using the hot spray to erase the chill from her body. She had escaped to the upstairs hall bathroom, leaving Sophie and Rob fretting in the living room about the man who’d confronted her in the woods at gunpoint. She wasn’t sure who had called them, but they’d arrived just before the police cars pulled away from the stables. Reid’s SUV and Agent Tierney’s dark sedan had been in the rear of the convoy.

Finally, she turned off the shower, standing amid the lingering steam. She couldn’t get Reid out of her mind. Not his kiss or the undeniable heat between them. Nor could she let go of his words later, when he’d told her things had gone too far.

He’s right, Caitlyn.
She reminded herself that any chance of something developing between them was a fool’s dream.

Drying off with a towel, she wrapped herself in her soft, fleece bathrobe, then used the palm of her hand to wipe the fog from the bathroom mirror. Her reflection stared back at her, haunted and pale. Outside, rain beat against the window and the wind howled, reminding her of the cold, bleak night ahead of her.

When she emerged from the bathroom, she found Rob in the hallway. His presence upstairs surprised her. Caitlyn tightened the robe’s belt around her waist and adjusted its shawl collar.

“Are you looking for me?”

“You’ve been up here for a while,” he said, his big shoulders hunched and his hands shoved inside his pockets as he walked to her. “I thought I should come up and check on you. Make sure you’re all right.”

She tucked the damp curtain of her hair behind one ear. “Where’s Sophie?”

“On the phone downstairs. Her sister in New York’s been ill and she wanted to give her a call. She told you about Melanie, right?” Pausing, he pushed his wire-rimmed glasses higher on his nose. “The truth is, I really don’t think you should be alone tonight, Caitlyn. Why don’t you come back to the house with us—”

“Thank you. But I’d rather stay here.” Rob and Sophie meant well, but she was tired and feeling more than a little depressed. Knowing how ungrateful she
sounded, she tried to soften her words. “It’s been a tough day, that’s all.”

He continued studying her. “The man who was here the other day when Sophie and I came by. He works for the FBI?”

She nodded faintly. “He does.”

“He headed up the Capital Killer case.” Rob said it more as a statement of fact than a question. “I thought I recognized him from the news conferences. Are the crazy things that have been going on around here tied to Joshua?”

Caitlyn was unsure how much to tell him. So far, the press hadn’t reported on a copycat, but with two murders already committed, Reid had warned her it was only a matter of time. She focused on David Hunter.

“The man who confronted me in the woods is the widower of one of Joshua’s victims,” she explained. “His name is David Hunter. They think he was here to seek some kind of revenge on me.”

“And you and the FBI agent were out alone together in the woods when this guy came after you?”

She felt a blush stain her cheeks. “How did you know that?”

“Manny Ruiz. He called Sophie and me, gave us a quick rundown and said we might want to come over. You don’t harbor any ill will against the man who took down your brother?”

“Agent Novak was doing his job,” Caitlyn said defensively. “And my brother
is
a serial murderer.”

His curious eyes on her made her uncomfortable.
Lit by the soft hallway light, Rob’s features appeared earnest as he took a step closer.

“Look, honey. I worry about you out here. Being all alone.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. He laid a hand on Caitlyn’s shoulder. “I just want you to know that I can be over here anytime you need me,
for anything.
In two shakes of a lamb’s tail. To talk, or if you just need some company.”

He bent his head and lowered his voice further. “You can call my cell instead of the house. We don’t need to worry Sophie.”

She nodded faintly, feeling awkward as Rob continued staring at her. Did he intend that as it sounded? His hand lingered on her shoulder, gently squeezing. From downstairs, she heard Sophie calling for them, announcing she’d made sandwiches and poured them all a glass of port. Rob dropped his hand and straightened.

“Coming, dear,” he yelled back.

“L
ook who’s here, my favorite son.”

“I’m your only son, Dad,” Reid responded as he walked into McCauley’s Grill, dutifully playing along with his father’s well-worn joke. A handful of Ben Novak’s friends, all retired cops, chuckled and slapped Reid’s back in greeting. They were gathered around a table cluttered with the remnants of bar food—wings, burgers and sweating mugs of dark beer.

Reid slid his gift into the pile of wrapped presents. He put a hand on his father’s shoulder and spoke into his ear. “Sorry I’m late, Dad.”

“You’ve missed the food, unless you want table scraps.”

“That’s okay. I’m not really hungry.”

“Aren’t you back on the job soon?” Leo Purcell, his father’s former partner, interjected. He patted his own protruding belly. “You’re looking too thin, Reid. Better bulk up—law enforcement’s more intimidating with a few pounds on ya.”

“That would be pounds of
muscle,
not fat,” Ben quipped, giving Leo’s paunch a poke with his elbow. “Besides, the Feds like their boys lean and mean. That way they look more
GQ
in their fancy suits.”

Another round of laughter exploded inside the tavern, competing with the noise coming from a row of occupied pool tables and a jukebox playing an eighties Bob Seger song.

“At least he made it in time for cake,” Megan acknowledged, giving her brother a look of feigned disapproval. She cleared a path through the men so Maddie and Isabelle could make their way to the table. The girls carried a sheet cake carefully between them that was decorated with glowing candles and a police shield made of gold fondant icing.

“Better get started—you’ve got some catching up to do,” Cooper, Reid’s brother-in-law, advised. He pressed a foamy beer mug into Reid’s hand as the group broke into a rousing chorus of “Happy Birthday.” Taking a sip, Reid watched as his father continued cutting up with his friends, an arm around each of his granddaughters.

“Way to go. You almost missed Dad’s birthday,” Megan said to Reid once the plates of cake had been passed around. She’d come over to where he stood at the edge of the crowd.

“Almost,” Reid pointed out in his defense.

“Where were you?”

“We had an arrestee—”

“Have I mentioned you aren’t supposed to be working yet?”

“I had a vested interest.” He took a bite of the devil’s food cake his sister had brought him. “The perp pulled a gun on me.”

Megan’s eyes widened. “Where?”

“In Middleburg.”

“The case you’re not supposed to be on, but are,” she recalled. “What’s the attraction up there, Reid? You’re not even cleared for duty yet.”

He sighed and set his paper plate on the bar behind them. He’d always trusted Megan, had told her things he probably shouldn’t about the cases he worked. She often served as his confidante, the one he turned to when he needed a sounding board or perspective other than his own or Mitch’s. She was also the first person he’d told after the doctors had diagnosed his brain tumor. They had gone to their father together to break the news.

“Okay, so don’t tell me—”

“There’s a tie-in to the Capital Killer case,” he confided, his voice low. “It hasn’t hit the news yet, but in all likelihood we’ve got a copycat. We have two victims already.”

“Which is why they brought you back in early.” Megan appeared worried. “God, Reid. The timing’s horrible. You’ve been ill, and I know what the first case did to you.”

He laughed weakly. “Killers don’t give a damn about timing.”

“So why were you in Middleburg?”

“Senator Cahill’s daughter is involved. I was out at her place today.”

“Cahill?” She frowned, shaking her head. “That’s a name I’d hoped to never hear again. Not after what Braden Cahill did to you. Talk about an abuse of power. He nearly got you booted out of the FBI—”

“Senator Cahill’s dead, Megan. And Caitlyn’s not to blame for anything that happened.”

“You’re on a first-name basis with Braden Cahill’s daughter?” Her brow furrowed as she processed this information. “And you were at her place when someone pulled a gun on you?”

“On both of us, actually.”

Reid was relieved she didn’t push for further details on his relationship with Caitlyn, or why exactly he had gone out there. Instead she asked, “Who was the guy?”

“The widower of Joshua Cahill’s last victim. Mitch thinks he might be our unsub, but I don’t agree. The guy’s a mess psychologically. He never recovered from his wife’s murder. He’s unstable but my gut says he isn’t a serial killer.”

“What’s going to happen to him?”

“We arrested him for assault with a deadly weapon. I just got back from the interrogation. He’s being transferred to Washington Hospital for a full psych evaluation.”

Reid looked across the room at their father, who stood in the doorway, bidding good-night to his old cronies. He felt a tug of emotion. Ben Novak looked good for his age and seemed to be in excellent health,
but sixty was a milestone. Their mother would have been fifty-eight now. Reid felt Megan touch his arm. When he looked at her, he saw the anxiety in her eyes.

“I know you, Reid. There’s something else. What is it?”

He used all of his self-control not to tell her more. And if he did, where would he even begin? What had happened with Caitlyn, the other details of the investigation, the headaches he’d been having and the results of the MRI he was waiting to receive—it all seemed too much to handle. Placing his hands on her shoulders, Reid looked into her eyes.

“Nothing, worrywart.” He gave her a tight smile. “And now that the crowd’s thinning, I’m going over to talk to the birthday boy.”

“Thanks for coming, son.”

Reid pulled his hands from his pockets, where he’d been warming them against the brisk night air outside McCauley’s. “You know I wouldn’t miss it, Dad. Sorry again for being late.”

“Better late than never.” Smiling, Ben enveloped his son in a bear hug. Reid embraced him back, his chest tightening as he felt his father’s sturdy frame.

“Sure you’re okay to drive home?” Reid queried.

“Are you asking if I’m piss-drunk?”

“You had a few.”

Ben chuckled. “Relax. I’m entitled. Cooper and Megan are giving me a ride.”

Reid nodded. The group had dwindled to just family,
and his sister and the others were still inside boxing up the leftover birthday cake. He waited with his father, making small talk until Cooper, Megan and the girls loaded into their Jeep Cherokee for the trip to Ben’s condo and then back to Silver Spring.

Since weekend parking was scarce in the Adams Morgan neighborhood where Reid lived, he had opted for the D.C. Metrorail in lieu of driving. Reid walked the two blocks from the bar, then used his fare card to get into the station and went down the escalator. Checking his watch at the platform, he took a seat on one of the benches. The station wasn’t nearly as full as during the workweek, but there were still handfuls of passengers strolling around, some with city maps marking them as obvious tourists. Above him, the station’s skylight was filled with black night, and the sound of an approaching train rumbled inside the long tunnel. Reid glanced up at the flashing sign announcing its arrival; it wasn’t his.

He people-watched as the group that was gathered on the platform waited for the doors to open, then bustled inside. The train was already fairly tight with passengers, and through the windows he could see the newer ones taking what was left of the available seats or gripping vinyl loops hanging from the ceiling to anchor them for the ride.

Reid felt electricity prickle his skin.

Julianne Hunter sat in the last seat, her blond hair half shielding her face. She wore the same prim, plaid skirt and white blouse as on the night in the abandoned
factory, the collar bloodstained. In disbelief, Reid stood as she gazed back at him, a puzzled expression on her pretty features.

Julianne’s face had haunted him for all these months since her death—he recognized it as easily as his own reflection. Reid made a run for the door as it began to slide closed but it shut a half second before he reached it. He banged on the Plexiglas window, causing passengers to turn in his direction.

The train began to move. Reid jogged alongside it, keeping his eyes on Julianne. She watched him with a mild curiosity, then returned her attention to a book she held open in her lap. Unwilling to let her go, he sprinted along the platform until the train finally outpaced him, barreling into the darkened corridor. Out of breath, Reid gulped air, his lungs squeezing. His heart felt as though it might slam out of his chest.

Doing his best to ignore the curious stares, he shouldered through the crowd and headed into the men’s restroom. His hands trembled as he turned on the faucet in one of the basins and splashed cold water onto his face.

His head swam with confusion, a faint throbbing at its center that announced an impending headache.
Julianne was dead
—he had watched the life drain out of her. Her blood had coated his jacket as he fought to save her life. But despite what he had just seen, Reid didn’t believe in doppelgangers or ghosts. He was too much of a realist for that.

The only explanation was something he desperately didn’t want to face. Anxiety hit him like a hard blow
in the chest. Perspiring, he waited in the bathroom for several minutes, trying to compose himself before going back out into the station.