West grimaced. “Felt like a dick doing it.”
That’s because West was a good guy. Whether he knew it or liked it or not.
West looked at the evidence across the table. Sighing, he grasped a piece of paper in a clear envelope, a letter from a case six years ago, and read the script out loud.
Dearest Angus,
I am so enjoying our game together. The women . . . they are so lovely. Like a flock seeking the light, like a moon filling the night, they are bright. Their hearts will always be mine. Until we meet again.
Yours,
Henry
Malcolm looked up. “Dearest? What’s up with the corny poem?”
Angus rubbed his chest. “It’s from an old philosophy text written by a guy named Llewellyn. He’s long dead.”
Mal grimaced. “And the hearts? Lassiter ate those, if I remember right. That’s just creepy.”
“No kidding.” Angus tugged the bag of food closer. “He liked to spend time with the women he kidnapped before killing them. He could be anywhere now.” Tension crawled along Angus’s shoulders until his head hurt even worse. The doubt in West’s eyes wasn’t helping. “He’s alive, Malcolm. And somehow, he’s out there.”
West studied him for a moment and then nodded. “Okay.”
“You’ll see.” Frustration burned bile through Angus’s stomach. Was he getting another ulcer?
“What can I do?” West asked quietly.
Angus shook his head. “You’re primary on the cult case. Keep on it. In fact, you’re about to go undercover again. I was going to give you a day, but if you’re up to it, we could make contact later this afternoon.”
“I’m up to it,” West said, his shoulders straightening.
Crap. The man was going to try to save the girl. It was in every mini expression on his face. Angus mulled over what to say and decided silence was best. For now.
The old elevator dinged, and soon heels clipped across the room.
Angus’s tension intensified, making even his toes hurt.
The shrink poked her head in, her brown eyes sparkling. A box of stuff, including a plant, was clutched in her slender hands. Apparently, she was making the most out of her dreaded assignment. Angus had to respect that.
She shifted the box in her hands. “I need a few minutes to get my office set up, and then I’d like to talk to you both about the shoot-out yesterday.”
Angus raked her with his gaze. Silk blouse, gray skirt, black heels. “We usually dress down here on the weekend,” he drawled, knowing he was being an asshole but not quite ready to hold it back.
Her smile brightened her already pretty face. “I had a morning meeting in DC. Otherwise, I assure you, I’d be in comfy clothes to decorate.”
Guilt slashed him. “Do you need help moving boxes?”
Amusement lit West’s eyes, but he wisely stayed silent.
Nari shook her head. “Nope. I’ve got it. Thanks.” Then she clip-clopped her way out of sight.
West cleared his throat. “Is it all shrinks or just that one who make you grind your teeth?”
“All of ’em,” Angus said, reaching for another burrito. “One got my sister killed.”
West grimaced. “Sorry.”
The elevator dinged again, and then Clarence Wolfe’s boots clumped swiftly across the bull pen and into the room. He set down a carrier full of coffees. “Lattes, gentlemen. The special was a springtime spice.”
