She was staring at the first photo. “Denise Reed, age seventeen.”
Denise stared back at them. A young girl with dark hair and wide eyes.
Cadence touched the second picture. “Sally Samwell, age eighteen.” Another girl with a big smile and a dark tumble of hair.
“Rachel Penelope, age nineteen.” Her fingers skimmed over the girl’s dark hair.
“Georgia Trace, age twenty.”
The next photo. “Jamie Snowden, age twenty-one…”
“He’s going up a year, every time…” Kyle said, his voice too loud in the quiet room as the cops all made the same connection. “The girls look the same, same hair—”
“And they have the same blue eyes,” Cadence said as she glanced around the room. “This killer, I believe—in his mind—was killing the same girl again and again.”
Her hand slid over the other photos until she came to a photo that had been circled in red. “I believe he was killing Jennifer Chandler, over and over. The age went up, as Jennifer would have aged if she’d still been alive. That kill—it was necessary to him. He’s been doing it every single year since Jenny died.”
Fuck.
It was Lauren’s turn to rise to her feet. “My sister…”
All eyes turned to her.
“So many women…” Pain whispered through her voice.
“Since I believe Jenny was the first victim, I think she had a personal connection to the killer. They were friends, maybe they dated, maybe she rebuffed him. She knew him.” Sympathy flashed across Cadence’s face, but the determination in her gaze didn’t falter. “That means you might know him, too. If we can just find him, we can also find Walker.”
“We can take them both out,” Kyle added.
“That means we need to see every witness from the original Bayou Butcher case, we need to go over every file…” Cadence lifted her chin. Her delicate jaw hardened. “We will be looking for a male, in his midthirties, highly intelligent, attractive—”
“He’s good-looking?” one of the uniforms muttered, a little too loudly. “How do you know that?”
“Because all signs are that his prey willingly came to him. If there were indications of a struggle, we would have noticed them at the scenes. Even when Jenny Chandler’s car was found”—Cadence’s gaze darted to Lauren—“the appearance is that she willingly drove out to meet the perpetrator. An attractive man would have a much easier time luring his victims.”
Lauren backed away from her seat and moved to stand beside Anthony.
“Jon Walker is also attractive—he used the same luring technique with many of his victims. It’s a technique I believe he learned from his partner.”
Anthony slanted a fast glance at Lauren. Her body was stiff, and she looked so pale. “Are you okay?” he murmured.
“I don’t think I’ll be okay for a very long time,” she whispered. “All of those women. He took them all.”
“I’ll be adding to the second killer’s profile soon. When I do, I’ll give an update to all the officers working this case.” Cadence reached for files on the table near her. “These men are extremely dangerous. Now that they are back together again, they will keep killing. They won’t stop until we stop them.”
The meeting ended after that. The cops filed out, Cadence and Kyle huddled over their files, and Lauren—
Her fingers wrapped around Anthony’s arm. “I need to get out of here.”
He knew desperation when he heard it.
“Please, take me away from here.”
Anthony nodded and immediately steered her toward the door. They pushed through the bull pen, heading fast for the exit.
“DA Chandler!”
It was Kyle McKenzie. The guy was rushing after them, his gaze on Lauren.
Beside Anthony, Lauren stiffened.
Anthony’s jaw locked. “She’s had enough for today, got it? I’m taking her out of here so—”
“I know how you feel, Lauren.”
Lauren. Not DA Chandler.
The guy’s voice held way too much intensity.
Not just intensity, Anthony realized as he studied the agent with a critical eye. Pain.
Slowly, Lauren turned to face the agent. “I don’t think you do.”
Kyle nodded. “Fifteen years ago, my sister vanished.”
Lauren trembled, then she held herself still. Far too still.
Anthony stood close to them. Kyle’s voice was low as he said, “There’s not a single night that passes for me—not a single one—when I don’t wonder where she is. When I don’t wonder what happened to her.” His gaze hardened. “And when I don’t want to make the bastard who took her pay.” Fury flashed in his eyes, battling with the echo of pain.
“I’m sorry.” Lauren’s voice was whisper soft. “I didn’t know.”
“I’ve never been able to bring my sister home. I never got any justice for her.” He inclined his head toward Lauren. “But I’ll do my damnedest to see that you get justice for Jenny.”
A tear tracked down Lauren’s cheek.
Anthony pulled her closer to him.
Kyle’s gaze rose to his face. “You take good care of her.”
Always.
“And we will stop that SOB out there.”
Yes, they would.
As they hurried from the station, Anthony realized if Lauren asked, he’d do any damn thing she wanted. Even kill—in an instant—if that helped to ease the pain that seemed to break her apart.
CHAPTER TEN
The second the hotel room door closed behind Anthony, Lauren turned and wrapped her arms around him. She was desperate. She needed him. Needed the way he could make her feel. Only him.
“Lauren, why—”
She rose onto her toes. Her mouth pressed against his.
His hands came around her and he tried to gently push her back.
She wasn’t in the mood for gentle.
Jenny’s killer. All of those women…all of them…
“Baby, you’re hurt,” he growled the words as he eased away from her. “I can’t—”
“I can. The doctor said I’m fine.” Mostly true, but right then, she didn’t care about some aches and pains. Lauren felt as if she were breaking apart on the inside. On the outside, her skin was chilled. An ice that threatened to consume her.
She needed Anthony. Needed the wild rush of pleasure he’d always been able to give her.
She had to forget everything, in order to be able to live without breaking. “I need you.”
His gaze darkened. “Baby, you know I’m always desperate for you.” Then he was kissing her, but not with the fierce intensity she wanted. He was trying to be careful.
Fuck careful.
Her hand rose between them. She unbuttoned her shirt. Let the soft silk part so he could see the edge of her bra. He might think he was going to take it easy with her, but she remembered everything about him. Including all the ways to make him lose control.
Her tongue met his. Her breasts pressed against his chest. He was aroused, growing more so by the moment, and she wanted him in her. Wanted the drive to oblivion that would let her pretend—if only for a fleeting moment—that everything in her world wasn’t a nightmare.
She sucked his tongue. He growled. Good. She wanted better.
Lauren stepped back. Shed the rest of her clothes. He watched her with eyes that burned.
She was his obsession. He’d said that. She wanted to see just how obsessed he could get.
His eyes were on her breasts. In the next second, his hands were, too. Caressing. Stroking. Then he was lifting her into his arms—still being so freaking careful—and carrying her to the bed.