I See You (Criminal Profiler, #2)(99)

“I have just a few questions. It shouldn’t take long.” Vaughan was minutes out, and if she could stall Jason, then she would have her backup.

“What kind of questions?” he asked. “Fun ones, I hope.”

“Questions about the Foster case.”

He held up his hands. “I heard Mark killed himself. That must mean the case is closed, right?”

“Not quite,” she said.

“What else is there to talk about?” he asked.

“Kiki. Do you remember her?” She studied his gaze closely and raised her hand to the grip of her weapon.

He shrugged, his head tilting as he regarded her. “No. Should I?”

“She’s a prostitute. One of her johns attacked her, but she got away.”

Blue eyes narrowed. “What does that have to do with me?”

“Kiki remembered the face of the john very clearly. I was able to make a sketch based on her descriptions.”

“I don’t believe you,” he said. “Half those hookers are on drugs and don’t know up from down.”

She reached in her pocket and pulled out her phone, which now displayed the image of him. “Have a look for yourself.”

He studied the picture and smiled. “Is that supposed to be me?”

“Yes.”

“It looks like me, but I’m better looking than that.” He flexed his fingers. “You just drew a picture to screw with me, right?”

“No. It’s based on witness testimony.”

“A whore from the street.” He shook his head. “You can pay them to describe anything you want.”

“The cops won’t rely totally on the sketch,” she said. “What they will do is cross-check your DNA with any that was found on Galina or Veronica.”

“That sounds a little like a witch hunt. Sounds like you’re looking for an excuse to come after me. I’m an ex-con and an easy target, right? You also going to try to nail me for Marsha’s murder?”

“When the DNA comes back, then we’ll know for sure. But for now, the sketch is enough to detain you.”

“Is this supposed to rattle me and make me confess?” He looked amused.

She drew her weapon, knowing he could close the distance between them in seconds. “You kill girls like Galina because they’re easy and no one misses them. Veronica would have been a challenge, because sooner or later someone would have missed her.”

He glanced at the gun and then back at her. “I don’t know a Veronica.”

“All the victims look like Hadley and Marsha.”

“We keep coming back to Marsha. You have a one-track mind, Agent Spencer. Is the gun really necessary?”

She ignored the question and held the gun steady. “Marsha was young and pretty and trusting. Was she your first kill? Did you save her bones out of sentiment, or maybe it was proof you were the one behind all the media headlines?”

He reached for his car keys. “You’re good at spinning stories, Agent. I haven’t done any of the stuff you’re talking about. The press would call this harassment.”

She tensed and took a step back but kept pressing with her statements. “I think Veronica was a two for one. She just happened to be your type, and you knew she was Mark’s girlfriend. Maybe Skylar was upset that her daddy was messing around. Maybe you just wanted to hurt Mark.”

“I don’t like Mark. That’s no secret. But I don’t care who he sleeps with. That was between Hadley and him.”

“Galina was convenient and easy. But after her, I’m surprised you went after Kiki. Were you stressed out? Does killing help you feel in control?”

The frown lines around his mouth deepened. “This has been fun, but it’s now boring me. It’s been a long day, and I want to go home.”

She prayed Vaughan was close. “You’re under arrest.”

He laughed. “You’re full of shit. Now, unless you have a warrant, I’m leaving. I been working for ten hours, and I’m beat. And I don’t have time to play cops and robbers with you.”

“Stay right where you are, Mr. Dalton. Detective Vaughan is minutes away, and he wants to talk to you.”

“Minutes away? Shit, that’s a lifetime.” He took a step toward his car, but in the next instant, he stopped and pivoted toward her.

The next few seconds slowed to a crawling pace. She caught the glint of a blade. As she locked him in her sights, he lunged. The blade slashed through the air, slicing through the tendons and muscles on her forearm. Pain cut through her body, and blood soaked the sleeve of her blouse. The fingers in her right hand went numb and were unresponsive.

Adrenaline pumped and dulled the pain in her arm. But she knew that wouldn’t last. Soon, her arm would burn, and what little advantage she still had would vanish.

She had practiced scenarios like this thousands of times, and muscle memory kicked in. She angled her body back a couple of steps, giving herself the space to shift the gun to her left hand and regain her footing. The grip felt slightly awkward in her left hand, but again, countless practice sessions with her nondominant hand kicked in. She tightened her hold and leveled the gun, refusing to allow any thoughts or emotions to dull her focus.

He raised the knife and lunged forward, ready to plunge the blade into her. She tweaked the angle of her sights, caught him in her crosshairs, and fired.