What Are You Afraid Of? (The Agency #2)(80)

Griff laughed. The thought of his sophisticated, charismatic friend spending his days with his hands in dishwater and corralling Jaci’s gigantic mutts was mind-boggling.

“A year ago you were walking the red carpet with a pretty starlet and planning to spend the holidays skiing in St. Moritz,” he said.

Rylan’s features softened. “There’s no place I’d rather be than spending the night in that small farmhouse with Jaci in my arms.”

“Amazing.”

“It is,” Rylan agreed. “Once you find the right woman all your priorities will change.”

Just a week ago Griff would have felt a stab of envy. What man didn’t want to find a lover and companion he could spend the rest of his life with?

Now he just smiled.

“I’ve already discovered that,” he said.

Rylan frowned. “Carmen?”

“Yes, Carmen.”

There was an awkward pause before Rylan cleared his throat. “Do you remember our conversation when I came back to tell you I intended to marry Jaci?”

Griff nodded. He’d been standing in the kitchen when Rylan announced his intention to return to Missouri and live with Jaci, although he’d promised that he would travel back to California on a regular basis. Griff had been genuinely happy for his friend, but he’d also known that Rylan’s protective instincts had been in hyperdrive when Jaci’s life had been threatened.

“I warned you that a man shouldn’t make important decisions in the heat of battle,” he said.

Rylan eyed him, as if he was trying to bore deep into Griff ’s brain.

“You were right. It wasn’t the time to make any big decisions.”

“Then why didn’t you take my advice?”

“Because I love Jaci. And I’ve known her my entire life.” He said the words as if they were undeniable facts. “You barely know this Carmen Jacobs.”

Griff narrowed his gaze. He didn’t need to know Carmen since she was riding a tricycle or making macaroni art. There’d been an undeniable connection between them from the beginning.

“I know her well enough to give my life to protect her.”

Rylan parted his lips, no doubt intending to continue the argument. Then he caught sight of Griff ’s expression and he instead heaved a small sigh.

Rylan never bothered fighting losing battles.

“It’s not going to come to that,” he promised.

Griff glanced toward the wide opening that led toward the staircase. For now, Carmen was safely tucked in his bed. But he wasn’t stupid enough to think that she was going to be willing to remain locked in this house forever.

A day, maybe two, and she was going to insist they do something to try to find the killer.

“I hope not,” he muttered.

Rylan reached out to squeeze his shoulder. A silent promise that Griff wasn’t alone.

“I called in some favors while I waited for my flight,” the younger man told him.

Griff had expected no less. “And?”

“The California Bureau of Investigation has promised to send agents to assist the local cops,” he said. “If the killer . . . . or killers . . . hope to mimic the Morning Star, they’ll have to bring the bodies to the beach at some point.”

Griff shoved his fingers into his hair, frustration bubbling through him.

“Assuming that they intend to copy the killers in the book.”

Rylan frowned. “I thought that was your theory?”

Griff paced across the floor. He couldn’t shake the sensation that he was missing something. Like they had all the pieces to a puzzle, but they’d put it together wrong.

“It’s a theory, but so far the only real evidence we have is the pictures that were sent to Carmen, and the bodies that were found in Kansas,” he said. “They both point toward one of the killers she profiled, and there were the flowers that were sent to her hotel room. Still . . .” His words trailed away as he gave a shake of his head.

“Is there something else you want me to do?” Rylan demanded.

“I don’t know. I—” His words cut off as the phone he’d stuck in his front pocket suddenly vibrated. Pulling it out he felt a surge of hope as he saw the name on the screen. “Speak of the devil,” he breathed.

“Who is it?”

“Nikki.” He pressed the phone to his ear and paced into the living room. “Tell me you got the bastard.”

His brief optimism was immediately squashed. Nikki not only denied any leads on the killers, but she revealed that he had even more reason to worry about Carmen. With a terse good-bye, he slid the phone back in his pocket and called out for Rylan to follow him.

He was in his office and seated at his desk when Rylan hurried to join him.

“What happened?”

Griff fired up his computer, his hands unsteady as he typed on the keyboard.

“Carmen’s PR firm received another packet of photos,” he said.

Rylan sucked in an audible breath. “Like the first ones?”

“Yeah,” Griff said. “This time they realized that it might be important and opened it. Once they saw the pictures they sent them straight to the FBI, who contacted Nikki. She’s on the way to Baltimore.”

Rylan grabbed a chair and set it next to Griff. He leaned forward as Griff clicked into his e-mail.