"Director gave it to me yesterday afternoon—he'd agreed PAVAD would take it yesterday morning." Every cold case they took came from the director's desk personally. That would change when he retired in six months, as was the current plan, but since Cold Case was a fledgling unit, it was protocol. They handled special request cold case investigations submitted by local law enforcement agencies and cold cases from the FBI itself. And each case had to be signed off on by the director. “It’s a bit of a rush.”
"So why this one? Favor to the director?" He liked to needle her about her relationship with the director, as well. He wouldn't say Ed Dennis had his favorites, but if he did, this woman was on the list. No surprise—everyone loved Miranda.
She was just a bundle of sunshine and joy all around. Even the bright cinnamon hair color, and the intense green eyes signaled life and chaos to him. Sometimes that constant cheerfulness got on a man's nerves. No denying that.
But he sure liked to look at her. Sometimes, he just couldn’t look away.
"The brutality with which the mother was killed, I think," she said, after a long moment. "There is something about what he did to her...besides just the obvious sexual trauma, and different weapon usage. He made her lie there by her dead husband and son, knowing he was going to kill her. Did he make the daughter watch? If not—where was that little girl? And with the daughter's disappearance on top of that...It fit the parameters. We were free. And it's only a four-hour drive. We'll check it out. See if there is anything we can do and go from there."
They spent the rest of the drive discussing case particulars. Bouncing ideas off each other. He might not jibe with her on a personal level, but she had one of the sharpest minds in the Bureau he had ever seen. She had a roundabout way of thinking things through that maddened him—but damned if it didn't often get her to where she needed to go.
"Our first step, Knight, is finding out who the intended target was. Then we can go from there."
Finally, she pulled into the parking lot of a Baymont hotel, right off Highway 150. "The guy from the regional post who requested our assistance will be meeting us here soon. Might go ahead and grab our rooms while we wait—if he’s not here yet."
"What do we know about that guy?"
"That we—you specifically, anyway—are going to be on your best behavior. Your very best, or I’ll be the one kicking your ass this time. I've seen you with local LEOs. You aren't exactly all warm and fuzzy. And you don’t want to tick this particular one off.”
Well, that was new. What was so special about the cop that had her looking at Knight like that? "You can handle the warm fuzzies, with that killer smile of yours that all the local boys just can’t resist. I'll handle my end of the deal. Solving the case.”
She was good at that—making connections with people everywhere. Knight never had been, and never would. He didn’t mind one damned bit, either. He’d let her play nice. She was so much better at it.
"Let me guess, with your killer brain?"
"Something like that."
She just smirked at him in that particular way she had of annoying the piss out of him. "Well, at least you like my smile. That’s one thing so far. I live in hope. That's him, right there."
She pointed to a big blond guy around Knight's own age. Talk about a beefcake stereotype. The man looked like he ate bricks for breakfast. “Local Yokel on steroids?”
“Hardly. This guy is very intelligent. First Sergeant Pierce Asher. Play nice, or else. That’s our very own Dr. Lucas’s older brother, you know.”
Now that did surprise Knight. The guy was massive. Dr. Lucas was a small, slim blonde woman, who wore glasses, had freckles, and was married to a billionaire. The guy looked like a damned Viking. "That's Dr. Lucas's brother? He'd make four of her."
"Maybe not that much—well, maybe three times, actually. Payton says she's the runt of the litter. All of her brothers I've met look just like that. But in slightly varying sizes. Give a woman the shivers, I have to say…They have a way of looking at a woman…very yum-yum. All seven of them.”
"Great. Thanks for sharing." She liked to say things like that to him, just to get a rise. He’d figured that out quickly.
She liked to poke the bear.
Knight was the damned bear.
Just a little game the witch liked to play with him.
Then she was out of the car and striding across the parking lot like nothing could ever stop her from getting what she wanted.
Of course it wouldn't—no one could deny the sun.
Not even him.
Chapter 2
Some things haunted a man. First Sergeant Pierce Asher of the Indiana State Police Jasper Post had learned that lesson long, long ago. This case…was it. The Gibson case was his ghost and always would be. No matter how often he tried to forget it—he couldn’t. Sometimes…he dreamed about the Gibson kids at night.
He’d used his last four paid PTO days with the ISP to do this; he was going to make it count. Somehow. Then…he was giving up. Saying he failed.
PAVAD was his only real hope.
