Hide and Seek (Criminal Profiler #1)(95)

“You’re a good cop, Macy.”

“But was I good enough? If it were another agent in my shoes, would they have gotten to Deputy Bennett sooner? I was so hell bent on getting back to work I didn’t stop to really consider if I should. Maybe I don’t belong in this job.”

“That’s bullshit,” Faith said. “You’re one of the best.”

Images of the bruises ringing Bennett’s pale neck rose to the front of her thoughts. “Jesus, Faith, this guy strangled her multiple times.”

“She’s a cop, Macy. She accepted the risks of the job. It could just as easily have been you.”

“She’s a deputy in a small town. She’s never seen a case like this.”

“Do you think she’d appreciate the fact that you’re underestimating her? Do you think she’d like hearing she’s just Barney Fife from Mayberry?”

Macy pictured Bennett’s stoic expression. “She’d probably kick my ass.”

“Would she want you blaming yourself or going after this guy?”

Macy drew in a breath. “She’d want me to nail him to the wall.”

“Then why are you still on the phone yammering with me? Go kick somebody’s ass and be quick about it. Call me when it’s done.”

Click.

She stared at the phone in disbelief. No goodbye, no good luck. Faith understood her better than she realized. Nevada strode in. The tightly woven coil inside her eased a fraction.

“How is she?” Nevada asked.

“She’s still unconscious.”

“All right,” he said. “We’ll wait for a little bit.”

“I hate waiting.”

“Macy, it sucks being on the outside, but sometimes that’s all you have,” Nevada said.

“Who are we talking about now?” she asked.

“Me, after your accident.” He laid his hand on hers. “I never want to go through that again.”

She had been focused on herself after the accident. All she had wanted to do was get better. She had thought about him. Several times she had felt so alone it was all she could do not to call him, but she had been afraid of showing any kind of weakness. “I didn’t want you to see me that way.”

“I could have dealt with it,” he said. “You didn’t have to fight your way back alone.”

A doctor dressed in green scrubs approached them. “You’re FBI?”

They both stood and she said, “Yes. We brought in Brooke Bennett. Is she awake?”

“Not yet.”



Once Nevada and Macy had spoken to the doctor and learned Bennett wouldn’t likely wake until morning, they returned to the house where they’d found her. Surrounding the house were state and federal officers who were sweeping the structure and grounds for evidence.

Sullivan met them outside. “We were able to locate the clerk from the county land records office. He was not happy to be pulled away from his evening show until I told him about Deputy Bennett.”

“And?” Nevada demanded.

“The clerk ran right into the office and started digging. The land passed through three hands in the last twenty years. It had a reputation for being a party site for the kids at one point. Long story short, a limited partnership called Pocket Inc. purchased the house. I called the attorney of record, and he told me his client was Bruce Shaw.”

“What’s the status of the crime scene?” Nevada asked.

“The technicians are going over the room where they found Deputy Bennett. It’s mostly hair and fiber samples in that room, but in the other bedroom there are journals,” he said.

“What kind of journals?” Nevada asked.

“Apparently this guy liked to make sketches and notes of the women he stalked. There’re notes on hundreds of women from up and down the East Coast.”

“What about Baltimore, Atlanta, and Bluefield, West Virginia?” Macy asked.

“I haven’t been in the room to see,” he said.

“Good work,” Nevada said. “We’ll take it from here.”

“How is Deputy Bennett?” Sullivan asked.

“She’s going to recover with time,” Macy said.

“Thank God for that.”

“Agent Crow, about that Beacon cologne,” Sullivan said. “It’s been bugging me all day.”

“What about it?” she asked.

“Wyatt wore it.”

“You are sure? Rebecca Kennedy said her attacker wore Beacon cologne.”

“Yeah. The guys used to tease Wyatt about it. They were always taking the bottle and tossing it in the trash. They said it made him smell like a pretty boy. I saw the bottle more than a few times.”

Kevin had not given DNA, and now she had a witness who said he wore the rapist’s scent. “Wyatt would have been under a lot of pressure during the Dream Team years.”

“He’s always had a lot on his shoulders,” Sullivan said. “Father wasn’t around much, and his mother isn’t wrapped real tight.”

“Deputy Sullivan, go by Wyatt’s house again,” Nevada said. “If he’s there, bring him in.”

“Yes, sir.”

Macy and Nevada each donned latex gloves and booties, gave their names to the officer standing watch at the crime scene tape, and then entered.