He halted midstride and glanced down at her hand.
She released him. This was all her fault. She had to do something.
Reese’s gaze darkened. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop it. You are not responsible for any of this.”
Tears filled her eyes. “Yes, I am. Loretta is involved because of me. It’s my fault. I called her.”
Reese shook his head. “Loretta always makes her own decisions, believe me. She got involved in the case because she wanted to be in the center and help you. You’re sisters. That’s what family does.”
“I know,” Anya said, clasping her hands together. “So I should help now, too.”
“You have. Your insights into his mind have been invaluable.”
“Yeah, but I haven’t figured out his connection to me. Not yet.” The guy wanted her for some reason.
“Might not be a real one. He could’ve just seen you on the street one day.” Reese zipped up his jacket. “This isn’t my first serial, Anya. They’re all nuts.”
“I need to help,” she implored.
“How did you find out she was taken, anyway? Do we have a leak?” He scanned the room.
She winced. “A private detective who had been working with Loretta told me.” Now wasn’t the time to discuss Heath’s problems or the fake marshals. Loretta was more important.
“Do you trust him?”
Trust Heath? The guy had people shooting at him, for pete’s sake. Life was black and white, good or bad. The gray area didn’t really exist for her. “I don’t trust him, but I do think he’s a good detective, based on what Loretta said about him.”
Reese breathed out. “Give all of his information to one of the agents while I’m gone, and I’ll follow up with him. I want to talk to anybody who has seen Loretta in the last month.”
Anya blinked. “He’s not the Copper Killer, Reese.” While a few things about Heath didn’t quite ring true, he’d seemed way too angry about the killer. Why she felt the need to defend him, she’d never know. “He might be helpful in finding my sister.”
Reese frowned. “Give us his contact information so I can talk to him. Thanks.” He turned for the door.
“Wait. Please. What if Loretta needs me?” Her voice had risen in the plea, but she didn’t care.
He paused and then shook his head. “I’ll call you with any update.” His voice gentled. “I can’t take you into a combat situation, Anya. Your sister will kill me if I do.” His smile was halfhearted at best but did reveal a dimple in his left cheek.
Why hadn’t she trained as a profiler or a police psychiatrist? The rules probably didn’t allow for Reese to take a civilian. “Call the second you know anything, and I’ll go through the files again.” For the zillionth time. Maybe something new would leap out at her.
“Agent Dingman?” Reese called.
The woman from the side office approached, her hair a wild mass around her broad shoulders. She was about thirty and had sharp brown eyes. “Yes, Reese?”
“Make sure you get Anya’s statement about the private detective.” His gaze didn’t leave Anya’s. “Keep her here until we bring back her sister. You know, so Loretta doesn’t stab us both to death.”
Anya tried to give him a smile.
“I’ll go get Loretta.” He patted her shoulder and strode again for the door, quickly disappearing.
Dingman cleared her throat, showing stress lines at the sides of her mouth. “I just got here. Do you mind catching me up to speed?”
Anya swallowed. “Absolutely. Why don’t you tell me what you know so far?” She moved toward the big table in the center of the room. Perhaps talking about the case again would make something stand out to her. It was a long shot, but she had to do something. Anything.
Dingman’s eyes lit as she scanned the files on the table. “Okay. The Copper Killer kidnaps redheaded family members of folks involved in law enforcement. We’ve traced this guy’s movements from women he has taken to where we’ve found the bodies.” She turned and pointed to the far wall, where pictures of the victims had been taped up. The victims ranged in age from seventeen to thirty, all with reddish hair and all related to either a cop or a private detective.
Anya’s chest ached at seeing a picture of Loretta taped up there. “Right,” she murmured quietly. A lump settled into her stomach. She had her own set of pictures and notes at her apartment. She turned back toward a map on the table. “Based on the timeline, we think he’s still in Idaho or maybe Washington State. He seems to like the Northwest.”
Dingman nodded.
