Mark’s tone was grim. “You said you smelled cologne? Is it familiar?”
Lindsey nodded, still trying to make this all seem real in her mind. “But I can’t place it.”
Mark put his hand on her back and urged her to step into the apartment. “Call Steve and have him come over.” Then he had a better thought. “Why don’t I call him and you sit down and get your bearings back.”
“I’m fine really. This doesn’t seem real.” On second thought, “But yeah, okay, you call Steve.”
She followed Mark into the living room and sat down. She was thankful she had let Mark search her place. Finding the bed a mess firsthand might have been too much. Something inside her was certain this wasn’t some freak break-in. This was about the phone calls . . . . and about Hudson.
She knew it was him, the killer, the rapist: the crazy man who had invaded her life in far too many ways.
The realization hit her like a two by four. Her insides felt like they started to shake, and she felt a coldness creep into her limbs, taking over her mind. She hardly remembered giving Mark the number to call Steve. The deep rumble of Mark’s voice as he spoke to Steve barely registered.
“He’s on his way.” Lindsey heard the words, but somehow they seemed to be in a tunnel, muffled and far away. Mark’s hand was on her leg, warm and comforting. “Lindsey?”
Jarring herself back to reality she blinked twice and then cleared her throat. “Ye . . .” She couldn’t quite get her voice back. “Yes?”
“Why do I know you’re not telling me something?” He was searching her face, his eyes probing.
Her mouth and lips were dry. She swallowed. “It’s just a feeling I have.”
“Talk to me. What feeling?”
She could barely get the words out. “It’s him.”
His response was to sit down beside her and pull her close. He held her, not saying a word, and she was so glad. Talking wouldn’t have helped right now. She needed to calm down first. They sat there for several long minutes before Mark spoke. “It’s not safe for you to stay alone.”
Lindsey looked up at him. “I was going home with you anyway.”
He looked down at her with concern etched in his every feature. His brown eyes burned with emotions so intense Lindsey could feel them like a touch of his hand. “Yes, but you can’t stay here alone until this guy is caught.”
Painfully, she accepted the truth. She was going to be under lock and key until this guy was caught. Between Mark and Steve, they would watch her like hawks. “I know.”
He took her hand in his and pressed her palm against his mouth. “I know how difficult this is for you. I want you to stay with me where I know I can keep you safe. On the other hand, I don’t want you to feel pressured—but you have to stay somewhere safe.”
Lindsey forced a smile. There was no question she wanted to be with him. “I’ll stay with you.”
A knock on the door had Mark pushing to his feet. Lindsey followed, eager to see Steve and start solving this. Just moving, getting into action, was helping her get herself pulled back together again.
Lindsey answered the door while Mark hung back a little. Steve greeted her with a strong hug that almost squeezed the air out of her chest. He was worried. With him was his partner Garth, and Lindsey waved to him over Steve’s shoulder.
“Hi Garth.” He had soft gray eyes, understanding and calm. She liked that about Garth. He was a good match for Steve. Both were good guys but with opposite demeanors. Garth tended to take things in, silent for the most part. Steve on the other hand was a jump-in and make-a-splash kind of guy. Not as extreme as Lindsey, but enough so that even when he complained about her off-the-wall tactics, he didn’t refuse to go along for the ride.
Steve pulled back. “You okay?”
Nodding, Lindsey said, “I’m fine.”
Mark had moved to stand directly behind Lindsey. He quickly introduced himself to Steve and Garth, sparing no time before getting down to business, filling them in on what he’d found. Within half an hour, Lindsey’s apartment had turned into a madhouse of activity.
Lindsey stood back, watching as items were dusted for prints and bagged.
Watching had her on edge. She felt as if her life was one big whirlwind she couldn’t control. When Steve and Mark asked her to go have coffee with them, she agreed. They needed to talk, and it would be easier someplace else. Garth was more than capable of seeing things through at her place.
Once they were at the coffee shop, she settled into a chair between Mark and Steve. Funny how Steve had once been the only man she trusted. Now she included Mark on her trust list.
“I just got assigned the Williams case,” Steve said, resting his foot on his knee. “The FBI was called in some time back, but it was considered a slam-dunk. The agent involved is heavy into another case right now. I asked some questions, got permission to look at the case a bit closer. So let’s compare notes.”
Lindsey told them about her field visits. “I think the owner of the Pink Panther is a good suspect.”
“Not the boyfriend?” Steve asked.
“Ex-boyfriend,” Lindsey amended, “and I’m not ruling him out. At this point, how can we rule anyone out?” She had an idea. “Seems to me we are in a position of power.”
Both men perked up. “How so?” Mark asked.
“I’m the trump card,” she said. “The perfect bait.”
Mark and Steve chimed in at the same time. “Oh, no.”
“No way,” Mark insisted. “Not even considering this option.”
“It makes sense,” Lindsey said firmly, refusing to have her idea dismissed. “I can’t sit around and wait to be attacked.” She glared at both men. “Correction, I won’t.”
Mark took a deep breath, his tension evident. “No way, Lindsey. We are not using you as bait.”
Steve cleared his throat. “Both of you, please, hear me out.” Dropping his leg off his knee to the floor, Steve leaned forward. “I called and spoke to a profiler on my way over here. I figured we are dealing with different circumstances than what we thought in the past. So I thought maybe some new insight was needed. The guy I talked to didn’t know the case, so I explained the general points.” Steve sighed. “He gave me his off-the-record opinion.” He hesitated, as if he wasn’t sure he should continue.
“Well?” Lindsey prodded, suddenly feeling more anxious than before.
Steve’s face was grim. “He called this guy a ‘lust killer.’”
Lindsey wasn’t getting the point. “We knew that. He kills for the sexual high.”
“Right,” Steve said, “but you didn’t think that fit Hudson. At the time he wasn’t a killer.”
Lindsey nodded. “True.”
“The profiler said lust killers start out small, like Hudson raped and didn’t murder, but once they crossed the line, they get off on the thrill of the kill and can’t stop.”
“Which fits if we are dealing with one man,” Mark offered.
“We are,” Lindsey said with confidence.
“Okay, here’s where this gets sticky,” Steve said, eyeing Lindsey. “I asked about this fixation on you.”
“I wouldn’t call it a fixation,” she argued.
“It is,” Steve said, dismissing her words. “The profiler said it is common for the killer want to get involved with one of the investigators, often even giving them tips.”
“Because deep down they want to get caught, right?” Mark asked.
“Exactly,” Steve agreed. “The fact that Lindsey resembles the victims complicates matters. He may actually be confused about what he wants from her, using her as his link to the investigation and hunting her at the same time.”
“Hunting . . . do you have to use that word?” Lindsey asked.
“Candy-coating isn’t going to get us anywhere. I think you’re a target.”
Steve looked at Mark. “You won’t like this, but as I talk this through, I think using Lindsey as bait is an option. She’s already a walking, talking victim. Better to take this bull by the horns.”