The Agent's Redemption (Special Agents At The Altar 4) (17 page)

BOOK: The Agent's Redemption (Special Agents At The Altar 4)
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But when she turned around, Rebecca realized she wasn’t alone any longer. Someone else stood inside the room with her—someone she’d never suspected.

A scream burned her throat, but she was too shocked to utter it. Too shocked to do anything to save herself...

Chapter Twenty

Jared winced when Reyes touched the back of his head. “You probably have another concussion,” the agent said. “You should’ve gone to the hospital instead of driving up here.”

But he’d promised Becca that he would protect her. He hadn’t done a very damn good job of that, though—at least not personally.

“We had this,” Nick told him. “You should have gone to the hospital. What the hell happened to you?”

“Kyle Smith’s dead,” he revealed.

Dalton whistled. “I know the guy was a pain in your ass, but I didn’t think you’d actually kill him.”

“I found him dead.”

“So how’d you get the blow to your head?” Dalton asked. “Trip over his body?”

Jared winced as he remembered nearly falling on the dead man. “I didn’t realize the killer hadn’t left yet.”

“You must have been out for a while,” Reyes remarked, “since he beat you here.”

Jared touched his head himself. While the blow had caught him by surprise, it hadn’t been as damaging as the one he’d taken while protecting Elizabeth. Sure, he’d lost consciousness, but he hadn’t thought he’d been out that long.

“It’s probably good he was in a hurry,” Reyes said as he touched Jared’s wound again. “Or he might have finished you off like he had Kyle Smith. Why do you think he killed Smith? Do you think the reporter figured out who the killer was before we did?”

Jared didn’t even know who the killer was. “Where is the suspect?” he asked.

Reyes chuckled. “Does it irritate you that we caught him without you?”

“I just wanted him caught,” Jared said. He followed Reyes over to one of the Bureau’s black SUVs. The windows were tinted, so he couldn’t see inside. “Open the door.”

Reyes clicked the locks and gestured at the handle. “I’ll let you do the honors.”

Jared pulled open the door and expelled a breath of surprise. Becca was going to be horribly disappointed that her trap had snagged the person she’d least suspected.

“It was hard to get you to come up to Chicago,” he said. “Surprised to see you came all the way up here. From... Where is it you’re from again, Mr. Droski?”

The man said nothing.

So Jared answered for him. “You’re from St. Louis, George. Did you forget? But then you’re a very busy man—busy with your wife and kids. Or busy abducting and killing brides-to-be?”

“And apparently knocking federal agents over the head,” Reyes added for him.

George Droski ignored Reyes but focused his gaze on Jared. During the interview the man hadn’t been able to look him in the eye. Instead, he’d stared down at the table between them. The guy had red hair—not Jared’s auburn—but a fiery red. He also had freckles and pale skin. He was nobody’s image of what the Butcher would look like; he looked like Howdy Doody, not a violent serial killer. “It’s not what you think...”

And the nerves he’d shown during their earlier interview were gone. It was almost as if he was relieved.

Serial killers often said that they’d wanted to be caught—after they were caught. That they were hoping that someone would stop them. As a profiler, Jared knew that was bullshit and just a feeble attempt for the killer to save face. They got caught when they got cocky—when they’d gotten away with their crimes for so long that they believed they couldn’t be caught.

But he didn’t believe George Droski was trying to save face. The man didn’t have the arrogant, narcissist personality that Jared had profiled the Butcher would have.

He shook his head. “It’s not him.”

Dalton laughed. “Just because you didn’t catch him?”

“It’s not him,” Jared repeated as he turned and headed toward the church. He was vaulting up the steps when he heard Becca scream—a scream of pure terror. Other agents started forward, as well, but Jared shook his head. He wanted to assess the situation first—to make sure Becca hadn’t been taken.

George Droski was talking now—drawing the attention of the agents away from Becca’s scream to him. But Jared didn’t care what he was saying. He cared only about Becca.

His weapon drawn, he rushed through the doors and toward the room from where the scream had emanated. Hoping he wasn’t too late, he kicked open that door. Becca wasn’t gone—not like all those other brides-to-be.

She was pale and shaking with her hand clasped over her mouth. There was no blood. No wounds. But she looked horrified—as shocked as if she’d seen a ghost.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “What’s wrong?” Then he turned and saw her, too. The ghost. The woman whose murder he’d spent six years trying to solve.

“No wonder I never found your body,” he mused. “Hello, Lexi.”

* * *

J
ARED
SAW
HER
,
TOO
. She wasn’t a ghost. Or a figment of Rebecca’s imagination. She hadn’t lost her mind. And apparently she hadn’t lost her sister—at least not the way she’d thought she had these past six years.

And anger replaced her shock and fear. “Why?” she asked and her voice cracked. She refused to acknowledge the tears burning her eyes. Her voice had cracked because of the scream—the one she hadn’t even realized had slipped out. She had stood there for so long, just staring at that apparition—because certainly it couldn’t have been real. Lexi couldn’t be real. But Jared saw her, too.

She cleared her throat and asked again, “Why?”

And for the first time since she’d unzipped the garment bag and stepped out, Lexi spoke. “I’m sorry...”

It wasn’t enough. Rebecca shook her head. “I’m not looking for an apology. I want a reason—a reason that you put me through hell.” All the pain and guilt and regret...

And the loss. That horrible ache of emptiness that Rebecca hadn’t been able to fill—not with love for Jared. Not even with love for her son.

“Answer her,” Jared ordered.

Tears filled Lexi’s bright blue eyes. She looked the same, exactly the same as she had six years ago. That was why it had been almost easier to believe she was a ghost than to believe she was real. And that she’d chosen to leave.

“I had no choice,” Lexi said. “It was the only way I could get away from Harris. Or he really would have killed me. I’m sure he’s been killing those other women.” She shivered, and the tears overflowed her eyes and slid down her beautiful face.

Rebecca had missed her sister so much. All she wanted to do was pull her into a hug and hold her. And introduce her to Alex.

But there was so much she didn’t know yet. “How?” she asked. “How did you do it?”

“There was so much blood,” Jared added. “The coroner said you couldn’t have lost that much blood and lived.”

“As well as being a medical assistant, I’m also a phlebotomist,” Lexi said. “I was taking small amounts of my blood for a couple of months and freezing it.”

Jared nodded. He had known about Lexi’s certification. But who would have believed she had used that skill to draw so much of her own blood? Not Rebecca. She was horrified. “You planned it for a while...”

And she’d never said anything to Rebecca. While she should have been thrilled her sister was alive, she still felt as if she’d lost her. Or maybe she’d never really had her at all.

“I’m sorry,” Lexi said again as the tears continued to stream down her face. “But I wasn’t sure you would go along with it. And I had to get away from Harris.”

“You could have just dumped him,” Jared suggested.

Lexi shook her head. “I tried. He nearly killed me then. And he promised me that was the only way I would get away from him—was when I died.” She uttered a ragged sigh of resignation. “So I had to die.”

Rebecca had seen the bruises. She knew her sister spoke the truth. That was why she’d been so convinced that Harris had killed Lexi—because he would’ve had Lexi given him the chance. Instead, she’d saved herself the only way she’d known how.

“Is that who the agents caught outside? Was it Harris?” she asked Jared. “Or was it Kyle Smith?” She wouldn’t have put it past the reporter to try to break into the chapel for another exclusive.

“Kyle Smith is dead,” Jared said.

She noticed then the grimness on his handsome face and the streak of blood on the side of his neck. “Are you okay?” she asked. Had he fought with Smith? Had he been right that was who the killer was?

“I’m fine,” he said. But the grimness didn’t ease, and he still held his gun, the barrel pointed at Lexi—as if she posed some kind of threat. “And the person who was caught outside the chapel is George Droski.”

“George?” Rebecca asked. “I was so sure he had nothing to do with the killings. He was so close to us growing up—like a brother.”

“Maybe he was like your brother,” Lexi said. “But he was never like mine.”

Rebecca wondered about her sister’s tone. She’d been even closer to George than Rebecca had. “But you two were so close...”

“We’re closer now,” Lexi said, and she smiled through her tears. “We’re married.”

“Married?” She’d thought Lexi had been robbed of her wedding, of her life. It was so hard to believe that she’d been living the past six years.

“He saved my life six years ago,” Lexi defended the man, “when he helped me escape from Harris. George would never hurt anyone. He’s only been helping me—trying to save you, too.”

Rebecca’s stomach churned as she had another revelation about her sister. “You were the one behind the warnings?”

“Of course it was her,” Jared said. “Who else would have had the veil with her blood on it? And your grandmother’s earrings?”

“Her killer,” Rebecca murmured. She’d been so convinced that was who had been playing the mind games with her. But Lexi had done it. She’d never really known her sister at all.

“It must’ve been George calling you,” Jared said. “And George who tried to grab you in the dress boutique.”

“Why?” Rebecca asked her sister again. She’d always thought that Alex got his inquisitiveness from Jared. But maybe he’d gotten it from her.

“Because you are in danger,” Lexi said. “Kyle Smith was making too big a deal out of you, making you too tempting a target for Harris to pass up. And I know he was going to try to kill you—especially after he killed Root Beer.”

“Amy Wilcox?” Jared asked.

Lexi nodded. “That had to have been Harris. He only met her once, but he hated her.”

“He has an alibi,” Jared said.

Lexi snorted. “I’m sure he does. But it’s not true.”

“You’re the expert on what’s not true,” Jared said. “You admit you faked your own death and terrorized your sister.”

Lexi flinched as if Jared had struck her.

Rebecca loved them both. And she understood them both. Lexi had felt as if she’d had no other way out. But Jared had to be angry that he’d spent six years trying to solve a murder that had never been committed.

But then Jared pulled out his handcuffs. “Lexi Drummond-Droski, I am placing you under arrest for obstruction and harassment.”

Rebecca gasped. “You can’t!” Anger was one thing, but this felt vindictive. And she’d never thought Jared could be vindictive. He’d forgiven her for not telling him about his son. Hadn’t he?

“I have to,” he told Rebecca as he snapped the cuffs around Lexi’s thin wrists. “She’s broken the law. And the ones I’m arresting her for might not be the only crimes she and George have committed.”

He wasn’t making any sense. Maybe the blood on his neck had come from a blow to the head—one that had addled his thinking. “What are you talking about?”

“She faked her death,” Jared said, “but all those other women are
really
dead. We found their bodies. And the way they died exactly fits the way we thought she had died.”

But of course they had thought that only after those other bodies had been found—with all those horrible stab wounds. Then it had made sense that they’d found so much of Lexi’s blood if she’d also been stabbed.

But she’d stabbed herself—over and over again—with a needle. She’d been that desperate to get away from Harris. Lexi looked tiny standing in front of Jared—little bigger than Alex. Putting the cuffs on her was like arresting a child—someone vulnerable and innocent.

Rebecca shook her head. “Jared, you’re not making any sense...”

“He thinks I killed them,” Lexi said.

“You and your husband,” Jared said. “It had to be you and George. He abducted the women like he tried to abduct Becca in that dress boutique.”

“He wasn’t trying to abduct her,” Lexi argued. “He just wanted to scare her so that she wouldn’t get any more involved with you and risk her life.”

Jared’s chin snapped up as if she’d struck him. “You think I’m a danger to Becca?”

“You broke her heart six years ago,” Lexi said. “And you put her at risk today. I got in here. George nearly got in here. Harris could have, too.”

“I think you’re the greater danger,” Jared said. “Harris doesn’t know every detail about your crime scene. You do because you staged it. And all those other crime scenes exactly match it. It has to be you and George who killed those other women.”

“I didn’t know those other women,” Lexi said. “I only knew Amy, and I never would have hurt her.”

“Like you didn’t hurt your sister?” Jared asked. “You’ve been terrorizing her—”

More tears ran down Lexi’s face. “I didn’t mean to—I just wanted her to be careful. To protect herself—”

“But this wasn’t the first time you hurt her,” Jared said. “You nearly destroyed her six years ago.”

“I’m not sure which one of you hurt me more six years ago,” Rebecca said. It was as if they were having a contest, but the loser would be the one who’d hurt her most. “But you’re hurting me now, Jared. I just found out Lexi is alive, and you’re taking her away...” Her voice cracked with emotion. “In handcuffs.”

He looked at her, his amber eyes full of regret. She noticed the dark shadows beneath his eyes and how a muscle twitched in his cheek. He was in pain. He must have been hurt earlier; that was why he hadn’t shown up when he’d promised. And she’d thought he was just trying to stop her from putting herself in danger.

“I have to,” Jared said. “She can’t get away with what she’s done.”

“No, she can’t,” another man agreed as he stepped through the open door of the dressing room. He slammed it shut behind himself. At first Rebecca thought it was the crack of the door hitting the jamb that she heard.

BOOK: The Agent's Redemption (Special Agents At The Altar 4)
12.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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