Obsession (16 page)

Jess went completely still deep inside where her thoughts usually raced like the Gumball Rally when on a case. She couldn’t breathe much less speak.

“You need to watch yourself, Harris. We’re doing everything we can to put this case back together but God only knows where he’ll be by then. We’ve got surveillance on him but based on his history, if it lasts the night, it’ll be a miracle.”

Reality nudged her. Jess blinked. “Thank you. I appreciate the update.” She didn’t bother with a goodbye. She shoved the phone back into her bag, deep in the bottom as if that would somehow conceal what she did not want to acknowledge. 

“Did Harper find something?”

“No.” She shook her head for emphasis and maybe to clear it.

He shifted into Drive but his attention failed to shift from her.

Why didn’t he just let it go? “It was…
personal
.” Undeniably, regrettably very personal.

Burnett drove. She sat in a kind of coma.
Eric Spears was free
. At least six women were dead. All brutally raped and murdered with slow, methodical torture techniques. And no one had been able to stop him. The six bodies they had found were probably only the first peek at a much larger, much uglier history of depravity. Spears was forty years old. He’d likely been doing this far longer than anyone other than Jess suspected. Definitely longer than the five years the Bureau had tagged.

He was out
. 

And it was her fault. She had made a terrible mistake. The chances that he would have walked anyway had been stacked deep in his favor. But her role had ensured that, barring a miracle, none of the evidence he’d stockpiled could ever be used against him. The only way he would be stopped now was if some of his old work, assuming she was right about that, was uncovered or if he killed again and got caught.

Otherwise he would just keep killing and his victims, all women, would keep dying horrific deaths.

Because of her.

How could she possibly believe for one second that anything she was capable of doing would save these girls?

Jess stared out her window, focused on the blur of trees and houses.
Don’t think about it
. There was nothing she could do. The damage was done. She couldn’t go back and make it right.

When Burnett dropped her off, she would drive back and watch Sullivan’s house. Jess doubted the woman would risk leaving until her attorney had taken his leave and she had the cover of darkness. Then again, she might not take the risk at all. Not every woman was as rash as Jess.

“Burnett.”

She started at the sound of his voice. If she hadn’t been so distracted she would have noticed he’d gotten a call. Could be Harper or Wells with an update. Or Patterson. Griggs, possibly. Maybe there would be a real break and they could find these girls and wrap up this case. Then Jess could disappear into nowhere. Some place where
he
wouldn’t find her.

There were many times in a woman’s life when she wanted to be the object of a man’s desire. His total obsession. But this was not one of those times.

Would Spears really take that kind of risk? His intelligence level would indicate otherwise…but the part of him that could not control the impulses driving his obsession with achieving pleasure in the only way he could ruled him to a large degree.

Burnett’s cell phone slid back into its leather holster, the sound not unlike that of a weapon easing back into its keeping place. She shivered. If Spears came after her, no one close to her would be safe. Not her family…not Dan. 

Focus, Jess
! She kicked Spears and Gant out of her head and reached for some semblance of composure. No need to borrow trouble, she had two handfuls already.

“Did you really think you could keep this news from me?”

So the call hadn’t been an update. Perfect. One of his people had obviously seen the news. The question was, how would Wells or Harper or any of the others under his command know about her connection to Spears?

“Thanks for blabbing my secrets to the world.” You couldn’t trust anybody anymore.

“Wells,” he clarified. “I told her to keep an eye on any press releases related to the guy. I didn’t tell her why.”

“That’s something, I suppose.” Jess hated, hated,
hated
anyone knowing her secrets. Wells was no dummy. She would figure it out.

“You’ll stay at my house tonight.”

“No.” She glared at him. “I will not! I am a trained agent. I can take care of myself.” Not to mention she wasn’t going to be caught in his house alone with him under any circumstances. Life or death included.

“Jess, you have two choices.”

That was a tone she hadn’t heard in half a lifetime. Before she could set him straight, he laid down the law according to Dan Burnett. “You will either stay with me or I will assign a uniform to you. One who won’t take any of your crap.”

“Fine.” 

“Here we go with the fine again.”

“You can stay with me but we will not stay at your house. We’ll stay at your parents.” As much as she dreaded the idea of spending twenty-four/seven with him, she preferred that to another stranger knowing her business. Better the devil she knew.

“Fine,” he conceded.

Her car was at the senior Burnett’s house. Chances of persuading him to change his mind about the surveillance were greater in an environment that was not his usual habitat. 

“We’ll stop by my house so I can get a change of clothes.”

That she could do. “Fine.”

“God, I hate that word.”

He made the next right and Jess’s interest level in the area rose despite telling herself over and over that she did not care where he lived. 

The house wasn’t as massive as his parents’ home. It was one of those English Tudor styles that reeked of grandeur no matter that the house on either side of it was much larger. A cobblestone drive stretched beneath a portico that offered entrance to the side door without tackling the elements, then flowed back to a double car garage. The landscaping alone had likely taken the same size dent from his bank account as the Mercedes had.

He parked beneath the portico and hopped out as if he couldn’t wait to show the place off. There really was no need for her to go in. He could grab his change of clothes and come right back.

He opened her door. “Come on. I’ll show you around.”

She opened her mouth and he interrupted, “Don’t say fine.”

She exhaled a big, disinterested sigh. “Okay. But, for the record, we’re wasting time.”

He shook his head and headed for the side entrance. Jess shoved the car door shut and followed. By the time she reached him he had the door unlocked and the security system disarmed. “Would you like something to drink? A glass of wine? Coke?”

“No, thank you.” Wine and Burnett did not go together at any time, under any circumstances. 

The side door led through a mudroom-laundry room. She shadowed him into the kitchen.

Her breath hitched before she could stop it. She’d expected nice but this was incredible. If he had picked out the surfaces, colors and textures—not to mention the amazing cabinetry—she was impressed.

“I see you have a decorator.” Maybe his ex-wife had done his decorating. Not that Jess cared. Annette could be beautiful and have an eye for decorating. As long as she wasn’t smart and nice. Jess gave herself a mental kick and retracted the cat claws.

“My mother.” He grabbed a soft drink from the enormous side-by-side fridge with its glass doors. Top of the line. More big bucks.

That the mastermind behind the gorgeous decorating was his mother was almost worse. “She did a beautiful job.” Of course she did. Spending money was a fine art to her.

“Make yourself at home.” He downed another swallow before setting the can down. “I’ll be right back.”

He removed his dress jacket as he walked away, the imagery reminding her of that time ten years ago. Only his place had been a stylish apartment downtown then. And there had been no slipping out of anything. They had practically torn each other’s clothes off.

Jess chased the memories away and wandered through the rest of the downstairs. The great room was just that. Big, comfortable furniture was artfully arranged. A massive fireplace and flat panel TV. Homey but elegant. The dining room was extremely well done. Not too formal, more an eclectic blend of lavish and simple.

The hall powder room was iron and marble and glass. Very masculine. Sexy almost.

But the coup de grace was the staircase leading to the second floor. Grand, yet the inviting textiles climbing the steps gave it a soft, welcoming appeal.

Her phone made that funny little sound that signaled she had a text. She hated text. Only Gant sent her text messages. Most of the time to relay an order without suffering any lip from her.

Jess sat down on the second step from the bottom and dug around in her bag. She needed to organize this monstrosity that housed her life. She needed to do a lot of things.

She swiped the screen, allowed the message to open fully.
Private number
. She frowned and reached for her glasses. With the frustrating eyewear in place she visually scrolled down the screen.

I’m celebrating. Wish you were here
.

The phone slipped from her hand, bounced on the thick Persian rug gracing the sleek marble floor.

Reaching deep inside and hauling her courage back from the pit of her stomach, she considered the situation with as much objectivity as she could amass. She shouldn’t be surprised. Spears had a hard-on for her. She’d wanted so badly to get to him that she’d allowed herself to be vulnerable. She’d opened too far to entice his curiosity if not his trust.

Now he had turned his powerful obsession on her.

Wish you were here
. But he was there and she was not. She refused to let him get to her with his head games. 

“How about we grab some dinner before—”

She snatched up her phone and shoved it into her bag. “Fi—sounds good.” She stood, hoisted a reasonable smile into place. “Then can we drive back to the doctor’s house and just admire her neighborhood while we eat?” Her voice only cracked once. She was tired. Who wouldn’t crack a little after a day like today?

He nodded slowly. “Why not? What kind of host would I be if I didn’t show you a little of the city’s nightlife.” Suspicion hovered in his eyes. “Chinese or Mexican?”

“Chinese.” She did an about face and strolled through the house, using the same path she’d taken on her tour. If she worked hard enough, kept her cool, the whole Spears situation would fade into the background of their investigation. She did not want Burnett hovering over her.

“Harper called.”

“How many blue Fords trucks from that era are registered in the area?” That was the ticket. Play it cool. Nonchalant.

“One hundred and three.”

Jess laughed, the sound groused out of her. “Harper should have fun with that.”

“And that’s only the active ones. If he has no luck on those, he’ll have to go digging in the archives for those not currently registered.”

“I don’t even want to think how long that will take.” Jesus, couldn’t anything about this investigation be simple?

At the door Burnett stopped her, stepped outside and surveyed the area, before allowing her to cross the short distance beneath the portico to the car.

This was exactly what she did not want.

When he’d armed the security system and secured his home, he slid behind the wheel. As he backed out onto the street he braked, set those blue eyes directly on hers. “There’s nothing wrong with being afraid, Jess.”

Dear God. “I am not afraid, Daniel Burnett.” Where the hell had he gotten that idea?

“You should be.”

She laughed. He didn’t even know the half of it. “Well, Dr. Phil,” she leaned back into the lush leather seat and turned to study him, “if you give me a chance, I’ll explain why I’m not afraid.”

“By all means. I would love to hear how you came to that conclusion considering what that evil son of a bitch has done.” The fury simmering in him spilled over in his words. He really was worried.

“I built the man’s profile. I’m not his type. All his victims were brunette, tall, young.” Jess was none of the above. She was barely five-four, weighed all of a hundred pounds and she hadn’t run or really worked out in ages.

“The scumbag is just curious about me because I see him for who he is when no one else seems to. He likes to play with those he perceives as interesting. But I’m not the type who gets his motor running. I don’t evoke that level of desperation and desire in him. When he grows bored of analyzing me he’ll move on.”

Burnett didn’t need to know this but that was the part Jess actually was afraid of.

As long as the Player was entertained by her, maybe no one else would have to die.

Chapter Twelve

10:40 p.m.

Dan stuck his half empty cup of dark roast in the holder on the console. With no restroom handy, any more coffee would be a bad idea. He hadn’t pulled this kind of surveillance in years. He could easily have assigned someone else, but he wanted to do this. First, if Dr. Sullivan did have some idea where Dana Sawyer was and decided to attempt an intervention, he wanted to know immediately. Second, Jess had made a deal with him and he wanted to keep her cooperative.

He wanted to keep her close. The Player was one messed up bastard. Whether Jess took the threat seriously or not, Dan wasn’t taking any chances. 

“Did Harper say he would have that list of Ford trucks worked by tomorrow afternoon?” Jess scooted around in her seat, trying to find a more comfortable spot.

Dan imagined that her butt was numb just like his. The thought went off on a trek of its own with him dwelling on the idea of just what a cute butt hers happened to be.
Dumb, Dan
. “He’ll do his best. Older models like that sometimes fall off the radar when they end up in junkyards or in some collector’s garage.”

“I can’t believe Wells and Vernon didn’t find anything else on that computer. I was hoping for more exchanges between Dana and the therapist. Or some interaction with a friend that alluded to something we could use.”