Into the Night(54)

“He talked about Shaw. About how when I went into that alley, I intended to kill the bastard all along.” His words were softer, but still tight with anger, and she found herself leaning toward him so that she could catch each word. “He knows what I was doing. He thinks he understands me.” Bowen shook his head. “He doesn’t. I’m not going to play some game with your life on the line.”

But Macey was considering exactly what he’d just said. Or rather...what the killer had told him.

“Samantha was worried there could be a leak at the FBI. I think she’s right,” Bowen continued grimly. “I think the bastard has hacked into our files. Our psych reports. I think he’s using what he knows against us. Hell, access to the FBI files would also explain how he knows so much about these victims.”

“But it wouldn’t explain how he knows about us.” She eased even closer to him. “And I’m betting you haven’t told any FBI shrink what you told me last night.” Because he’d bared his soul to her.

He shook his head, and once more, she couldn’t help but think Bowen looked particularly dangerous—sinister—in that flashing light.

“Then he found out another way.” A way that had her worried. “Bowen, I believe he’s still watching us.”

She saw his shoulders stiffen. The perp had taken their pictures in North Carolina; of course he’d continue his stalking in Tennessee. But maybe, maybe he’d gone past just the picture-taking phase of things. “If he truly knows we’re lovers, if he knows what you said to me last night...” There could only be one explanation. “He has surveillance at our cabin. He’s literally seen us together. He’s heard our secrets.”

“Son of a—” Bowen began.

“Got them!” Peter announced as he hurried back into the room. “Here are the names of our staff members, though I assure you, we have thoroughly checked the background of every person here. We are a top-notch facility. You will not find any criminals working at our museum—”

“That’s the thing, buddy.” Bowen took the files from him. “Sometimes, you just don’t know who people really are. Not until it’s too late.”





CHAPTER TWELVE

THEY FOUND THE video camera and the listening devices in their cabin. Three of them. One in the loft. One in the downstairs bedroom. One on the back porch.

Bowen watched with fury as the crime scene team tagged and bagged each item. The bastard had been watching and listening. Every single moment. He’d known what Bowen was doing. Known just what steps they were taking with the investigation.

He’d been watching. Everything.

“Jonah said there wasn’t a long-range feed on the devices,” Tucker murmured as he came toward Bowen. “The guy had to be within a five-mile radius to get the feeds, and with these mountains—” he gestured around to the peaks that surrounded them “—Jonah said it would have been even harder to transmit. So he thinks the perp was close. Very close.”

Bowen marched outside and studied the cabins on the street. Tucker followed him. They were in a rental subdivision, of sorts. A whole mountainside that was full of open cabins for tourists. “He was right here.”

“He could still be here,” Tucker argued. “We need to search these cabins. Because my money says the guy isn’t leaving anything to chance. He didn’t want to be too far away and risk not getting his feeds. He wanted to know everything that you did. Everything that Macey did—”

“We’re lovers.” The words came out hard but he knew he couldn’t cover this. Not now. “Macey and I. He knows.”

The guy had been two steps ahead of them during this entire investigation, and Bowen was tired of that shit. You were hunting us all along, weren’t you? Well, the game is about to change.

“I’ll tell Samantha,” Bowen continued gruffly. “Because to answer your question from before...she didn’t know.” No one did. He didn’t know what Macey was going to think about the team suddenly knowing their personal story. Would she withdraw from him? Fuck, he didn’t want that. The last thing he wanted was for Macey to pull away. He’d worked too hard for too long in order to get her close.

“And the rest?” Tucker asked him. Tucker’s hands were loose at his sides and his face was expressionless. “The things the guy said about Arnold Shaw? You want to tell me about that?”

Not particularly. But if there was a recording somewhere—and he feared there would be—Bowen knew he didn’t have a choice. “I wanted the bastard dead. I went into that alley knowing I’d shoot him.”

“But you didn’t attack him with the gun first.” Tucker’s voice was low. “I read the police files, man. You went at him unarmed first.”

Because I wanted to hurt him with my bare hands.

“With my past, do you think I’m going to judge you?” Now anger broke free, cracking the mask of Tucker’s expression. “I want to help you. I want to have your back. But if you’re keeping secrets, if Macey is, I can’t do that. You both have to be honest with the team.”

“There aren’t more secrets. The perp out there has found them all.”

“You sure about that?” Tucker asked, tilting his head. “Because I think this guy gets off on secrets. I think he likes to find them, and exploit them. If your secret is dark enough, then he judges you...and he punishes you.” His eyes narrowed as he seemed to consider the situation. “Fuck. It could be part of his MO...”