The Predator (21 page)

“Don’t tell me you’ve gone all shy?” he teased.

She tried to act flippant while attempting to stem the blush that crept up her neck. “Just a little cool. The air’s a bit chilly in here.”

He smiled at her knowingly, but let it go. She looked around the sparsely decorated room. Apart from the bed and the matching nightstands, there was nothing else but a generic print of the beach on the far wall. It could have been a motel room for all its personality.

“You changed the bed,” she murmured.

“Yes. It was the first thing I did when I returned. I couldn’t stand sleeping alone in the bed that used to be ours.”

His words found a home in her heart. She hadn’t wanted to keep anything that had reminded her of him, of
them,
either
.

He shrugged and stood, his expression somber. “Redecorating hasn’t exactly been at the top of my list.”

Trying not to gape at the naked magnificence of him, Alex simply stepped into his arms and held him tight.

Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, he gently set her aside. “I’ll let you have the first shower. There are clean towels in the cupboard beneath the sink,” he added as she closed the door.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

At the sound of a knock on his door, Detective Senior Sergeant Declan Munro looked up from the jumble of papers scattered across his desk and cursed at the interruption.

“Come in.” He issued the curt command in a tone that was less than friendly. The door to his upstairs office in the Hornsby Police Station opened and a junior constable made his way cautiously inside.

“What is it, Kennedy?”

The young man’s cheeks flushed. His gaze darted nervously around the room. Declan bit down on a surge of impatience. Christ, he so didn’t have time for this.

“Spit it out, Constable. I haven’t got all day.”

“Um, sir, it might not be anything, but I just thought you ought to take a look at this.” Constable Michael Kennedy slid a sheet of paper across Declan’s desk.

“What is it?”

“It’s a report I took a couple of days ago. Geoffrey Williams came in to say he thinks something happened to his nine-year-old daughter, Veronica. According to Mr Williams, on Saturday she was playing in the park not far from where they live. She goes there all the time. Apparently, he can see the park from his living room window.”

Declan tapped his pen on the desk. “Is there a point to all of this, Constable?”

The young officer turned red. “Y-yes, sir. The girl—Veronica, was playing on the swings and the monkey bars. Mr Williams said he went to make himself a cup of coffee and then the phone rang. When he looked back out the window, she was gone.”

“Gone?”

“Yes, sir. He couldn’t see her anywhere.”

Declan gritted his teeth and wished, not for the first time, that the Academy would teach its students the art of efficient conversation.

“Then what happened?”

“He, that is, Mr Williams came downstairs and went across to the park. He looked everywhere. He went back to the house to make sure she hadn’t come back in without him noticing, but the house was empty. Then, he drove down the street to the local shops. Apparently, they’re only a few blocks away. Sometimes Veronica goes there for a drink or an ice cream.”

Declan’s eyebrow rose. “It’s wintertime.”

“Well, anyway, that’s what her father said. I guess he wasn’t thinking straight.”

“Keep going.”

The constable took another breath. “No one had seen her at the shops. Mr Williams went back home and checked the house again. Nothing. He was starting to panic and thought about calling us. But then, he looked back across the road, and there she was. Right near the monkey bars, where he’d last seen her.”

“So, where had she been?”

Constable Kennedy shook his head in consternation. “See, sir, that’s the thing. She couldn’t tell him. Her father said she seemed dazed. Confused, even. She couldn’t tell him where she’d been. The only thing she could remember was that she’d been talking to the man with the puppy.”

Declan frowned, his curiosity piqued. “It does sound a bit peculiar, but without any evidence that a crime’s been committed, what does he expect us to do?”

“That’s what I told him, sir.”

“So why are you here, Constable?”

The man squirmed again. “Well, it’s just that I had a similar incident reported about a month ago. I only thought about it when I was at home last night. I printed the earlier report this morning.” He offered Declan another piece of paper.

Scanning the contents, Declan’s frown grew heavier. The report outlined a remarkably similar incident. This time, involving a girl of twelve.

While there had seemingly been no injuries, the girl had been dazed and confused and had been unable to account for the time she’d been missing from the park. Her last memory had also been of speaking to a man she’d seen there before.

Declan pursed his lips in thought. “You were right to bring this to my attention, Constable Kennedy.”

The kid looked visibly relieved, which irritated Declan no end. Surely, he wasn’t that much of an ogre?

“I’m not sure what’s going on,” he continued, “but there’s something very odd about both of these cases. I’ll make a couple of calls, see if this rings any bells with anyone else. Let me know if you get another one, all right?”

“Yes, sir. I will, sir.” The constable turned to leave.

“You did good, Constable. Keep it up.”

The kid blushed crimson and ducked his head. “Thank you, sir,” he mumbled and hurried out of the room.

Declan smiled. He wasn’t that old that he couldn’t remember what it had been like to be fresh out of the Academy and in morbid fear of any superior officer, especially one as high up in the ranks as he was.

He should probably cut all of them a bit of slack. He’d been coming down hard on them lately. It hadn’t really been their fault. The real blame lay with the recent, messy break-up of his three-year relationship with Alice. He’d kept very quiet about that but he probably had been a bit short with his colleagues…

With an impatient sigh, he pushed the analysis of his bad mood aside and reached for the phone.

* * *

Brandon’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked at the screen. Recognizing the caller, he smiled in surprise.

“Hey, big brother, how goes it?”

Declan chuckled. “You’re sounding remarkably cheerful. Is there something I don’t know about?”

“Nah, mate. Just another day, you know how it is. What have you been up to? I haven’t heard from you in awhile.”

“Busy at work, Bran. Same old, same old. I heard you got a transfer?”

“Yeah, I’m in the CPU.”

“Tom tells me you’re working with Alex.”

Brandon pursed his lips and debated about answering. “Yep, that’s right.”

“How’s that going?”

Brandon grimaced. He could understand Declan’s curiosity, but he still didn’t know if what he had with Alex was going to last and he wasn’t in the mood to share confidences.

“How’s Alice?” he asked, changing the subject. “How long’s it been? Two? Three years? You must be getting ready to put a ring on it.”

“You haven’t heard.”

“Heard what?”

“We’re over. She’s fallen in love with some hotshot public defender. She confessed to me last week as she was lugging suitcases out the door of our apartment.

Brandon was immediately contrite. “Oh, mate. I’m sorry. I really am. I know how much you liked her.”

“Liked her? I
loved
her, Bran. And she’s thrown me over for some bottom-feeding defence lawyer.”

“I sympathize with you, mate. I know what it feels like to have your heart ripped to shreds.”

Declan’s voice quieted. “Yeah, yeah, you do.”

“So,” Brandon said, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. “Is there something I can do for you, or is this just a social call?”

Declan cleared his throat. “Yeah, I wanted to run something by you. It’s about a couple of strange incidents we’ve had at the local park.”

Brandon listened in silence and made notes on the blank pad in front of him. “You’re right, there is something a bit off about it. I’ll run the address of the park through our database, see if it scores a hit.”

“I’d appreciate that. It might turn out to be nothing, but it’s got my radar up.”

“It’s worth looking into, that’s for sure,” Brandon agreed.

“Thanks, bro. We’ll have to catch up for a drink one of these days. Tom invited me to the barbeque they had the other week, but I was working.”

“Too bad. Lily cooked a great dinner, as usual. I’ll call Tom. See when he’s off. We might try and get together at the end of the week.”

“Sounds good. Call me.”

“Bye, mate.” Brandon put his phone back into his pocket. Sliding his keyboard closer, he opened up the AFP database and conducted a search on the street address Declan had given him.

Nothing. He thought for a minute and then pulled up a map of the park and the streets surrounding it. Making a note of the names, he compiled a list, extending the search over a two-mile radius.

There were more than one hundred streets and lanes that fell within the parameters of his search. It would take him at least a couple of hours to check them all. But, he was nothing if not thorough, and sometimes a breakthrough came from the most unlikely of sources.

He didn’t hold any real hope he’d help Declan with his case, but the CPU had an enormous database of pedophiles and suspected pedophiles. It wasn’t accessible by the ordinary State police and he was happy to help out if he could.

He glanced across at the empty chair where Alex usually sat. She was on a day off. He couldn’t believe how much he missed her. It was dangerous to become so reliant upon her for his emotional peace of mind. The color of his day shouldn’t be affected by whether or not she was there—but it was, pure and simple. And that scared the hell out of him.

But the alternative was to close his heart to the possibility that they could make it. That they could rekindle their love and build a new kind of peace with each other. It was that hope that kept him going.

He hadn’t told Tom they were back together, either. Partly because he wasn’t sure that they were. It had been two days since the night at his apartment and he hadn’t spent more than a dozen hours with her since. And those had been working hours.

He’d wanted her to come home with him the next night, but she’d told him she had to go home. She had no fresh clothes and besides, there was Sam. She said she wanted to be there for her son.

Brandon understood—of course he did. The boy was little more than a baby. He needed his mother. But that didn’t mean Brandon still didn’t wish he could have her all to himself.

He sensed she held something back and he knew with time, she’d share what was on her mind. But how would he wangle more time when she had a baby to care for? It was downright selfish, but there it was. He was jealous of a two-year-old. How low could he go?

Maybe someday they’d make another child together. He couldn’t believe how hard he’d fought against the idea. But how would Alex feel? She had her son, her much longed-for child. Would she even want another? With him? The uncertainty ate at his gut.

With a sigh, he forced his attention away from Alex and dragged the list of addresses closer to the keyboard. He started with the streets that were closest to the park.

The first twenty or so yielded nothing. Impatience tightened his gut. He read the next entry on the list. Randall Street. After typing it in, he hit “enter” and waited.

A couple of minutes later, it came up with a hit. He sat forward in surprise and read the text on his screen. James Gibbons lived at Unit Two, 376 Randall Street. The name was familiar. It was the same name as one of the suspects on the list that had been recovered from the computer in Belgium—one of the thirteen.

His pulse picked up its pace.
Merely coincidence, or something more sinister?
He made a note on the pad near his elbow and continued to plug the addresses into the search. Two others out of the hundred or so he searched came up with hits. Both were the last known addresses of registered sex offenders.

Switching screens, he plugged the name James Gibbons into their database of registered sex offenders, but came up with nothing.

So, the man hadn’t been convicted of any assaults on children? It didn’t mean that he hadn’t committed them.

Tugging his phone out of his pocket, he dialed Declan’s number. His brother answered on the second ring.

“Brandon, I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”

“Yeah, I know, but I had a bit of time, so I just got on with it.” He explained how he’d widened the search and what he’d found. He gave Declan the names of the registered sex offenders and then added James Gibbons.

“The last character may be a person of interest in an ongoing INTERPOL investigation, but at this stage, we have nothing specific on him, so treat him with caution.” His voice turned dry. “We don’t want to be splashed all over
A Current Affair
for infringing on anyone’s civil rights.”

“No worries. And thanks, I’ll let you know how we get on.”

“Yeah. I’ll talk to you soon.”

* * *

Alex closed the lid on the washing machine and set it for a new load. She’d kept Sam home from his day care, hoping to spend some quality time with him on her day off. She hadn’t been there to tuck him into bed the night she’d spent at Brandon’s and the guilt still hadn’t quite eased.

She was being silly, really. There’d been plenty of times when she hadn’t been there for him at night. She couldn’t even count the number of night shifts she’d pulled over the years. But somehow, not being there because she was at work was more palatable than missing his bedtime because she was busy making out with someone.

Well, maybe not just
someone
. Brandon was more than just someone. He was her husband. The man she’d pledged her life to—heart and soul, forever. And he was Sam’s father.

God, it had felt so good to be back in his arms, to have his mouth on her lips—and other places. She blushed at the thought of what they’d done together.