The Obsession(121)

“When they get here, I’ll abdicate, but only after he lets me show off. That gives me a couple of weeks to devise a show-off menu, outfit guest rooms, and hope Jenny can redo those dining room chairs.” She added chicken to the pan with a satisfying sizzle.

“I’m going to try to be here. I should be able to work out of the Seattle office temporarily.”

After a long beat of silence, Mason set the knife aside, picked up his wine. “Okay. I’m going to lay this out for you—as much as I can. While the ME will determine, it’s clear from the on-scene examination and the evidence gathered that Donna Lanier was abducted and killed by the same unsub as Marla Roth. You don’t need the details,” he added, and went back to the knife. “It’s my strong belief, shared by Chief Winston, that Lanier wasn’t his first choice. She was simply there. As with the first victim, she was held and killed at another location, then transported and dumped where she would be found quickly. He wants us to know he’s here, he’s hunting. He’s arrogant, enjoys both the attention and the fear he’s generating. He’s intelligent, organized, experienced.”

“You mean he’s done this before,” Naomi replied. “That’s what you mean by experienced.”

“Yeah. It’s unlikely a coincidence he took both victims on a Friday night, held them until Sunday. We can speculate he has his weekends free or has the privacy he needs during that time period.”

“You still think he lives here.” Xander finished the last carrot, waited for a reply.

“I can’t eliminate someone who lives in town, works in town, or works or lives in the area.”

“Why?” Xander demanded. “We haven’t had any rapes or murders, nothing like this around here before.”

“He may not have brought it home before. He may have taken a hitchhiker, a hiker, someone passing through, and buried or concealed the body. He may recently have acquired, through purchase, inheritance, divorce, a place he can use to do his work. So far, most of the rentals have been checked and eliminated. We’re also checking on seasonal workers, tenants, new residents, vacationers who’ve been in the area since the first victim was abducted. I’ll continue to research and analyze like crimes. If I find a pattern, if I find more, we’ll have the full resources of the FBI on this.

“I’ve asked a contact I have at the BAU to look over the files, to check my profile, to see if I’m on the right track or if I’ve gone wrong. But whether or not the unsub lives and works here or happened upon this location, he’s still here. It’s gone too well for him to move on.”

“Naomi fits his type.”

“Xander.” Annoyed, she turned the chicken.

“Yes, she does. I believe he has a type, and Naomi fits it. I trust her to take all reasonable precautions.”

“I said I would.”

“I love you, Naomi.”

She sighed, hugely. “I love you, too, Mason.”

“So even though I know you’re smart, you’re careful, and you can kick ass, I’m going to worry about you.”

“I worry about you, Special Agent Carson. Especially since I know you can’t always take what civilians consider reasonable precautions.”

“You could spend a couple weeks in Seattle,” Xander suggested. “Hang with your brother there, do some shopping or whatever, do some work. It’d give them a chance to do the floors in this place.”

“First, Kevin and I have a schedule and the floors are dead last. Second and all the other numbers after that, I’m not leaving here to run off to Seattle so my baby brother can look out for me.”

“You’ve got two years on me,” Mason objected. “That doesn’t make me baby brother. She won’t do it,” he added to Xander. “I walked through the conversation about it with her in my head, and always hit the same wall. But this might make you feel better about it. Did you tell him about the mugger, Naomi?”

“I haven’t thought about that in years.” She picked up the wine, dumped some into the skillet, then trapped the steam with a lid and lowered the heat.

“What mugger?”

“In New York. Naomi was home on summer break from college, working at the restaurant. Decided to walk home one night.”

“It was a nice night,” she added.

“The mugger thought so, too. Anyway, this guy comes up on her—with a knife—wants her money and her watch, her earrings, her phone.”

“I would have given it all to him, just like the uncles had impressed on both of us a million times.”

“Maybe you would have.” Mason shrugged. “But the * figured he had a defenseless woman, a scared one. And a pretty one. So he copped a feel.”

“And he smirked,” Naomi stated, and, remembering it all now, sneered.

“She bruised his balls, broke his nose, and dislocated his shoulder, called nine-one-one. He was still on the ground moaning when the cops got there.”

“He shouldn’t have grabbed my breast. He shouldn’t have touched me.”

“You broke his nose.” Purely fascinated by her, Xander studied those slim, almost elegant hands. “You like breaking noses.”

“The nose is a quick and reliable target—offense and defense. I like yours.” She gathered up the carrots, the cauliflower, the broccoli she’d prepped herself, in a big strainer, and took them to the sink to wash. “So don’t piss me off.”