Deadly Fear (Deadly #1)(66)

She sucked in a sharp breath. Another, but still tasted only the bitter water on her tongue. “Did you… get h-him?”

A slow shake of his head.

Fear squeezed her heart, a tight grasp that had her gasping.

“We will,” he told her, his voice intense. “We’re going to get him. Monica’s after him. She’s going to track him and stop him. He won’t hurt you or anyone else.”

Her body sagged, and he eased her back onto the stretcher. “She found you,” he said, “and she’ll find him.”

Her heartbeat thudded in her ears. Monica. Sam remembered seeing her. Black hair, soaking wet. Monica had been there, holding her on the dock. “S-saved… me.”

“Yeah, Monica pulled you out. Damn, you scared the hell out of us, Sam. You weren’t breathing.”

No, because that last time, he’d held her under too long. He’d grown tired of his game.

How many times had she been in that water? “He… knew,” she managed. The man had known just how to break her.

Kenton just stared back at her. She saw the lines of worry near his eyes.

The killer knew her fears. This case wasn’t just about random vics in a southern town. Had it ever been?

If he knew her fears, he could have targeted the other SSD agents, too. He could have set up the original kills to lure them in to his game.

“It’s going to be okay,” Kenton told her, but right then, she didn’t believe him.

She wondered if even he believed the words.





CHAPTER Thirteen


Music blared from an old jukebox, a slow country beat with someone doing someone else wrong. Folks packed the inside of Pete’s Bar. Smoke filled the air, curling lazily over the pool tables, and glass beer bottles clinked.

The people of Jasper were out having a good time. Relaxing, dancing, flirting. Acting like there wasn’t a killer preying on their streets.

Luke had a cold beer in front of him, a fellow agent who was alive, and he knew he should have been celebrating like the deputies seated in the corner booth, but he couldn’t.

Because something wasn’t right. One thing kept nagging at his mind, and he just couldn’t get past it.

That rose. That damn bloody rose. What kind of message had that been?

When Monica had seen the rose, all the color had blanched from her face. He’d been reaching for her, to hold her, to keep her on her feet, when her spine had straightened and she’d shoved back her shoulders. Whenever she felt threatened, she did that. Stood tall, straightened those shoulders and acted like she wasn’t scared.

When he knew she was. He was surprised the woman still thought he bought that act.

The fear that had flickered in her eyes had vanished almost instantly, but he’d been left thinking…

That message is for her.

But Monica wasn’t sharing anything with him. She was working on her profile, talking to the crime scene guys, huddling with Gerry the tech, and not telling him a thing.

“What’s got you looking so angry, Agent Dante?” Gravelly, rough, and, of-piss-course, his boss’s voice.

He lowered the beer and turned slowly to face Keith Hyde. What had him angry? Take your pick. “The * dicking around with us.”

Hyde’s lips quirked. “Yeah, it’s time for the bastard to go down.” He pulled up a stool and motioned to the bartender. “Water.” Hyde didn’t drink alcohol. Ever.

Or at least, he hadn’t in over fifteen years.

A.A. If the stories were true.

“Sam can’t identify him.” Hyde’s fingers rapped on the bartop. “I saw her right after I flew in. She doesn’t even remember being at the airport.” He exhaled a rough sigh.

“What does she remember?” Had to be something. Something they could use…

“Just being at the cabin, being in the water.” Hyde paused when the bartender slid a glass of water his way. “She lost her glasses, so she couldn’t see her attacker clearly. She could only say he was tall, over six-foot-two. Probably weighed about one eighty to two hundred.” A shrug. “More info than we had before, a whole lot less than we need.”

Yeah, it was better than nothing, but still close to jackshit. “What about his voice? Did she say—”

“He whispered to her.” Hyde took a long swallow of water. “No accent.”

“How is she?” Christ, to have gone through that guy’s sick games.…

“She doesn’t know how many times he put her in the water. The guy got off on keeping Sam in the water until she nearly drowned. Then he’d let her out, let her think she’d survived—but every time, he just kept throwing her back in.”

Sick f*ck.

“Monica…” Hyde rubbed a hand over his face. “She told me that he probably only stopped when Sam gave up trying to survive. There wasn’t any fear anymore, so he let her go.”

He let her drown.

Luke raised his bottle. The beer looked like piss and tasted like water. Loud laughter broke out from one of the pool tables. He glanced over and saw Deputy Vance Monroe. Vance had one of the waitresses up on the table. His mouth was locked tight to the blonde’s.

Huh. At least someone was having a good night.

“Monica lives for the job, you know.” Hyde’s attention hadn’t wavered. Not for an instant.