Hide and Seek (Criminal Profiler #1)(79)

She looked over at her son, this young man, and knew he was right. “Point taken.”

When he ran his fingers through his thick dark hair, she saw the scrapes on his knuckles. “What happened to your hand?”

“Nothing.”

“Something happened.” She crossed immediately, taking his hand in hers. He tried to pull away, but she held tight. “Were you in a fight?”

He shrugged in a way that reminded her so much of herself at that age. She had had all the answers and then some. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Was it Tyler?”

“He’s got it in for me, but I can take care of him.”

“Fights are a big deal, Matthew. They can get you kicked out of school.”

“It was just a scuffle with the guys. It’s not a big deal.”

The kettle whistled, screaming and hissing until Brooke lifted it from the burner. She didn’t bother to reach for a teacup, her mind now distracted. “Matt, you better get to bed. I’ll stick around tonight and get you to school in the morning.”

“Grandma said she’d do it.”

“I’ll do it.” She kissed him on the forehead and forced a smile. “Go on.”

“Okay, Mom.”

When she heard his bedroom door close, she climbed the stairs to her bedroom and stared at the neatly made bed. Instead of turning in, she sat on the edge. She turned to a picture of Matt and her taken months after he was born. Her long dark hair flowing around her face, she was a kid herself. Her mother, her pastor, and her friends had all told her to put the child up for adoption. And she honestly had considered it. To this day, it pained her to think of it. She hadn’t wanted to see him when he was born. She had been exhausted, terrified, and humiliated to be a seventeen-year-old unwed mother.

It was Sheriff Greene who had come to see her in the hospital and told her she owed it to herself to hold her son at least once. And when she still had hesitated, he had asked the nurse to bring the baby to her.

Sheriff Greene had laid Matt in her arms. Her boy had been a squawking, fussy bundle with a red face and dark hair that already looked like it needed to be cut. He wasn’t much to look at. And she had fallen head over heels in love with him.

Brooke was still pissed at Greene for his mishandling of the DNA, but no matter what, she could never hate the man.

She set the picture back on the nightstand. The shutters outside rattled in the wind. She rose up and went into her son’s room, sat on the edge of his bed, and rubbed his back until he sat up.

He yawned. “What’s going on, Mom?”

She pulled another cheek swab from her pocket. “Open wide, sport. Need a quick swab.”

He complied, and as she sealed the swab back in the case, he asked, “What’s that for?”

“Just a crazy ancestry project, buddy. No worries. Go back to sleep.”

When he rolled over and went back to sleep, she hurried down the front stairs and out the front door. She stood in the fresh air for a moment and drew in deep breaths. Jesus. Was this a hornet’s nest she really wanted to kick?

Footsteps pounded the ground behind her, and in an instant the seconds slowed. Her hand reached for her weapon. Her body braced for an attack. A flicker of movement caught her peripheral vision. A ski mask appeared right before a right cross connected with her jaw. Pain radiated through her skull and her brain short-circuited. She staggered and then dropped to her knees. She fumbled for the stock of her weapon, but the assailant grabbed it from her.

He then yanked her back, slamming her body into a tree. The pain rocketed through her body. She fell to the ground and instantly he was on top, pinning her midsection. He shoved a damp cloth against her nose and mouth.

She held her breath, still flailing her legs. She could hear his steady, even breathing as her own heart raced and her lungs burned for air.

“Breathe,” he ordered. When she didn’t comply, he lifted his weight and then slammed it against her midsection, knocking the air out of her. Agony rocked her body.

“Let it go,” he sang softly in her ear. “Let it go. Don’t want to wake up Matt, do you?”

He had been watching her. He knew about Matt. Knowing her son could be in danger lit twin flames of fear and anger.

“Give in to me,” he ordered. “Give me this win, and I’ll let Matt live.”

But he wouldn’t kill her right away. He would take his time with her. Her submission now could not only buy her son his life but could also give her time later to find a way to escape.

Memories of garish purple bruises around Beth Watson’s neck sent chills down her spine. She didn’t want to die at all, especially like that. There was so much in her life she had to do.

But she inhaled and took the chemicals into her bloodstream. She felt lightheaded, and the seductive wave of the drugs washed through her body, dulling the sharp pain burning in the side of her head.

As her muscles gave way, she heard him chuckling.

The pain receded, and what little light there had been from the moon faded to total blackness.





CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Thursday, November 21, 7:30 a.m.

When Macy and Nevada arrived in Roanoke at the Western District Office of the Virginia State Medical Examiner, neither spoke as they showed identification and donned paper gowns and latex gloves before they entered the large autopsy room containing the remains of Beth Watson. Classical music played on the overhead speaker.