Allison Brennan - Cutting Edge

“Maybe they’re not connected to one another, but connected to the killer,” Duke mused.

She looked at him. “I was thinking that earlier, but Jonah Payne is the odd man out. The only possible angle is to Leif Cole because of their public disagreements over biotechnology, but that’s really stretching it, don’t you think?”

“Let’s put Anya Ballard and her friends aside for a minute. And Russ-” Duke swallowed uneasily.

She said, “He had information that the killer needed.

But why not leave Dr. Payne’s body in Lake Tahoe? Why transport it to his lab?”

“I don’t know. The theatrics?”

Nora considered. “But it draws attention to BLF.”

“And they’re dead.”

“Maybe the killer worried about them saying something.”

“This Maggie O’Dell, we don’t know where she is. Maybe Dr. Vigo’s wrong about there being only four cell members,” Duke said. “Maybe Maggie and her partner are the two we need to be looking for. Maybe it’s Maggie and her sister.”

“She says she doesn’t talk to her,” Nora pointed out.

“Maybe a boyfriend? A mentor?”

Nora considered. “Scott Edwards was her boyfriend, according to Professor Cole. He probably knew more about her than anyone. If Scott Edwards’s truck was really in Tahoe, then that confirms there had to be two people-one to drive the truck with Payne’s body and one to drive Dr. Payne’s Jeep back to Butcher-Payne.”

“Why would they bring the Jeep back?”

“I don’t know. Theatrics, as you said. I don’t see how they could possibly think that we wouldn’t have been able to figure out that his death wasn’t an accident.”

“Our overcrowded prisons are a testament to the fact that criminals aren’t always smart.”

“This one killed five people that we know of,” Nora pointed out. She didn’t know what to think. Her head spun as she processed all the information she’d received in a short period of time. She called upon her classes in criminal psychology. “Females rarely use knives to kill.”

“But I haven’t heard of any other cases where the killer lets their victims bleed to death. Maybe you have. I remember a girlfriend of Sean’s in high school who used to cut herself. She had scars all up and down her arms. She never left the house wearing anything but long sleeves.”

Maybe … maybe Duke was on to something. Nora was well-versed in the psychology of “cutting” behavior. “O’Dell left around Christmas and there were no more BLF attacks. What was she doing during the nine months before she allegedly came back?”

“Good question. When we find out exactly who she is, maybe we’ll know.”

“So O’Dell leaves, everything is back to normal. She returns … why?”

“To finish her revenge.”

“Why leave at all? Just because her roommate was having an affair with her professor?”

“Maybe there was another reason we don’t know yet.”

“She was angry with Anya. Very angry. But it would be easy to manipulate her old anarchist cell into arson, especially when there were animals in jeopardy. So she’s mad, throws a tantrum, leaves, returns, everyone is friends again as they plan to ‘rescue’ the ducks. But Maggie has murder in mind, and gets her boyfriend Scott to help her.”

“And genetic testing is Professor Cole’s big voodoo doll,” Duke said. “It makes the entire situation high-profile.”

“But it still doesn’t explain why she felt the need for the big show, other than for the platform.”

“Maybe we won’t know until we find her. Or maybe it was to get you on the case.”

Duke stared at her, worry wrinkling his forehead. She understood why he and Dr. Vigo thought that Maggie O’Dell had some personal issue with her, but Nora wasn’t quite ready to buy into that idea. It could be, but the woman was on the edge. She could have fixated on Nora simply because she’d put domestic terrorists in prison.

“I want to follow up with Leif Cole, show him this letter, and see if he has any idea of who Maggie O’Dell is or where she lives. Maybe something came to him overnight.” She turned, but Duke didn’t follow. “I thought you were my personal bodyguard.” She didn’t mean for it to sound so snide. She tried to smile, but it wasn’t natural.

He tensed. Maybe this was better, she thought. After last night … she didn’t know what to think. This situation was foreign to her. When she did have a relationship, it was always on her terms, at her pace, and someone not connected to law enforcement. Someone not connected to her . She didn’t like the intermingling of her personal and professional life.

Maybe that’s why it had never worked out with anyone. Nora only had a professional life.

“I know what you’re doing, Nora.”

He stepped toward her. The way he looked at her, with such intensity, made her nervous and jittery. Butterflies fluttered and she remembered how amazing she felt making love to Duke. She didn’t want these feelings. She didn’t want to care about anyone this much.

Her voice cracked as she said, “I’m not doing anything, Duke. I’m tired, I have a lot of work to do, and I don’t like being watched.”

“Get used to it.”

She bristled. He sounded so confident, as if he had a right to her. Maybe after last night she’d given him that impression. Maybe last night she’d wanted him to have that impression. But today, she didn’t know anymore. She was confused, upset about Dr. Vigo’s analysis, worried about her job, her team, and now a pending relationship. Something had to give.

“Duke, about last night-”

“Don’t. I’m not going to believe you.”

“You don’t know what I’m going to say.”

“I do. You’re trying to backpedal. You’re trying to ignore your feelings so that you can do your job and not think about yourself. I’m here, I’m staying, and you are going to have to address your feelings and think about yourself for a change.”

That Duke understood her so well unnerved her, so she steeled herself and snapped, “I can’t believe how arrogant you are!”

He smiled, as if he found her anger amusing. “It runs in the Rogan blood.”

It was really hard to stay mad at Duke when he revealed that solitary dimple.

“I need space,” she pleaded.

“I don’t give space.”

“But I need it.” She was panicking. She’d never been the sole and complete focus of anyone in her life, but the way Duke Rogan’s blue eyes pinned her, she seemed to be the only thing in his sight.

“I’m sorry,” he said without sounding one bit sorry. He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. She wanted to turn away, this was inappropriate, especially here. But she couldn’t. He was a powerful magnet, and she was helplessly drawn to him.

He kissed her lightly, then stepped back. “You do all the thinking you need to do, but in the end, I’m not walking away, no matter how hard you push. Not only are Rogans arrogant, but we’re stubborn.”

Nora had never seen so much blood at a single-victim crime scene.

Blood coated Leif Cole as if he’d bathed in it. The beige carpet under the chair where he was strapped down was soaked, as blood from multiple shallow wounds from his wrists to his shoulders had dribbled down his arms and onto the floor. The chair was slick with it, where he sat soaked, the brown denim material nearly black where the blood had seeped for more than eight hours, according to the coroner.

Cole was naked. Evidence showed he might have been getting out of the shower when confronted by his attacker. What small areas of skin weren’t coated in blood were extremely pale. His wrists had been crudely but efficiently duct-taped to the chair. His feet were unrestrained. How anyone could have incapacitated him without a struggle, Nora didn’t know-unless he’d been drugged.