Her shoulders sagged. “Thank you, Detective.”
He nodded. “Hell, maybe you’ll even get the guy to spill a full confession. That’s part of your deal, isn’t it? Getting the criminals to spill their secrets to you.”
That wasn’t exactly how being a profiler worked.
But before she could explain that to him, he had turned away and was heading toward an interrogation room. Sarah rushed to keep up with him.
IN THE BRIGHT light of day, Eddie Guthrie didn’t look particularly intimidating. In fact, he looked like a skinny, scared kid. One with acne on his chin, greasy hair, and hands that were shaking.
He’s really twenty-one? He appeared so heartbreakingly young to her.
“If you’d like,” the detective said to Eddie, “you can have a lawyer in here, kid.”
“Don’t need one,” Eddie said. His eyes were on Sarah. “We all know what I did. I tried to stop a monster.”
Sarah didn’t flinch.
The detective moved toward the far wall. He crossed his arms over his chest and watched them.
Taking her time, Sarah advanced and then sat down across from Eddie. She stared at him a moment, letting her gaze sweep over his bloodshot eyes, his too pale skin, down to his trembling hands. Her lips curved down. “Withdrawal?” All of the signs were there. Classic.
“Bitch, you don’t know a thing about me—”
“I’m sorry about your mother.”
She heard the sharp inhale of his breath. Her gaze lifted back to his dark eyes, and the pain in his stare was unmistakable.
“Don’t talk about her,” he gritted out. “Don’t you dare!”
“But she’s the reason that you broke into my room, right? Because of what happened to her?” I am so sorry, Eddie. Because as she stared at him, he stopped being the man who’d come to kill her. And, for an instant, he was a child. One who’d lost his mother to a brutal killer. To my father.
“You took everything away from me,” Eddie whispered.
Sarah shook her head, but . . . weren’t his words true? If she’d gone for help that night, if she’d tried to get more people to believe her . . . “I’m sorry,” she said again.
His fisted hands slammed into the table. “Stop saying that!”
Right. Going back wasn’t always for the best. She inhaled a deep, cleansing breath and said, “What happened to your sister?”
He looked away.
“Molly, wasn’t it?” As if she’d forgotten. Sarah had made a point to learn about the families of all her father’s victims. “She was just a little bit older than you when . . . when your mother died.” They’d both been mere babies. Sarah swallowed. “How is she now?”
“Stay the fuck away from my family!”
There was so much rage in Eddie.
“Told you,” Detective West murmured as he shifted his stance a bit. “Waste of time. This kid’s a drug head. He’s going to get thrown in jail for years.”
Fear came and went on Eddie’s face.
“Is that what you want?” Sarah asked him. “To go to jail? To spend years locked away from your sister?”
Slowly, he shook his head.
“Then why did you come after me? Revenge? Was that really—”
“He told me where you were.”
And Sarah’s heart stopped beating. She actually felt it still in her chest, then in the next instant, it was racing, thumping far too hard in her chest. “Who told you that?”
But Eddie had clamped his lips shut.
“Eddie . . . Eddie, if someone put you up to the attack, you should tell us. Detective West can help you.” She thought Eddie needed to get put in rehab and start receiving some serious therapy. She thought—
“No one can help me. Not now.”
She shook her head. “That’s not true. It’s never too late.”
He laughed. “Really? Is that the same line of bull you give to your father? Because we both know it’s too late for him. He’s evil, straight to the core.” His eyes turned to slits as he glared at her. “Just. Like. You.”
WELL, THAT LITTLE chat certainly hadn’t gone well.
Sarah stepped out of the interrogation room. Her hands wrapped around her stomach as she tried to settle her nerves.
“Who was he talking about?”
Ah, Detective West had followed her out. She should have known there would be someone watching her. Isn’t there always?
Sarah glanced back over her shoulder. Deliberately, Sarah put her hands back at her sides.
“When Eddie said that ‘he’ told him where to find you. Who the hell is the guy talking about?”
“I have no idea.”
“Well, I sure think you and I need to be finding that out, Dr. Jacobs. Because it sounds like the guy sent Eddie to kill you.”
Before she could respond, Sarah’s phone beeped. She pulled it out of her pocket and swiped her finger across the screen so she could see her text. The note was from her boss, Gabe Spencer.
Client meeting. Get to the hotel ASAP.
Since when did they have another client in New Orleans? She’d actually thought that Gabe was flying out of the city that afternoon. Hurriedly, she typed back, On my way. “Uh, excuse me,” she murmured to the detective. “I have a work meeting that I need to attend—”
But he moved into her path. “You can’t be this cold.”
She blinked at him.
“You just discovered someone else out there wants you dead. Aren’t you afraid?”
Absolutely, but fear changed nothing. “Have you contacted Eddie’s sister?” Sarah asked, instead of responding to his question.
“I left three messages for her. She hasn’t called back yet.” He waved that away. “Knowing that someone might be out there, gunning for you . . . what are you going to do?”
Find that person, before he finds me. “Maybe Eddie will talk more when his sister arrives.” She gave the detective her card—with her cell number. “Sometimes, people will open up more around family.” Then Sarah walked away.
“And sometimes . . .” the detective called after her, “it’s the family that causes the problems, isn’t it?”
She knew he was talking about her father. Murphy Jacobs.
Or, as the press liked to call him . . . Murphy the Monster.
She kept walking. Yes, family can cause the worst problems. And give you nightmares that won’t end.
GABE SPENCER WAS staying at the same hotel that Sarah was using. All the LOST members were in that hotel.
Only now we’ve got a new client? Just how much longer would they be staying in the Big Easy? She was ready to get home.
When the elevator opened on Gabe’s floor, Sarah hurried forward. A few moments later, Sarah knocked lightly on Gabe’s door.
Gabe Spencer. Ex-SEAL. All-around nice guy with a serious need to right the wrongs of the past. She’d profiled Gabe within moments of meeting him, and she’d known, from the start, that he was one of those guys that a girl could always count on. Lots of power and strength, but nothing evil in his core.
The door opened. Gabe stood there. His black hair had been swept back and his bright blue gaze sharpened when he saw her.
“Sorry it took me so long,” she told him. “I, uh, made a little stop by the police station this morning.”
She knew Gabe had been thoroughly briefed on last night’s events.
Worry was clear on his face when he said, “You went to see Eddie Guthrie.”
He was a nice, smart guy. She nodded.
“You’ll tell me all about that,” he murmured as his fingers curled around her shoulder and he pulled her into the room. “After our client meeting.”
Gabe wasn’t just staying in a normal hotel room. The guy was loaded, so he pretty much didn’t do anything normally. He’d booked a massive suite, and they were in the suite’s meeting space. A conference table was in the middle of the room, and the team had all gathered there. Sarah’s gaze swept the room, pausing briefly on each of her friends.
The closest seat at the conference table was occupied by Victoria Palmer, their forensic anthropologist. Victoria’s long red hair had been pulled back in a ponytail. Glasses perched on her nose, and, as she sat there, Victoria’s gaze darted a bit nervously over toward Sarah. Victoria had healed from her recent attack—courtesy of their last case. Or at least she’d healed on the outside. Sarah knew some wounds—the ones that were hidden the deepest—could never truly heal.