Iris Johansen - Blind Alley

He could go back to Cira now.

Joe turned away from the phone. “Lea Elmore. A waitress at the Red Lobster in Pittsburgh. Found this morning behind the restaurant. No face. Ashes in the blanket in which she was wrapped.”

“A Jane look-alike?” Eve asked.

He nodded. “According to her photo ID she's a little closer than the ones he killed in Richmond and Charlotte.”

She shook her head in bewilderment. “How is he finding them when he's moving so fast? I could understand if there was a reasonable length of time between the kills, but they've barely been forty-eight hours apart. He can't just stumble on these women.” She glanced at Jane. “Did Trevor say—”

“No,” Jane answered. “I told you everything he told me. But he seems to have done a lot of guesswork and putting together the pieces. Maybe he did figure it out. Do you want me to phone him? He said to let him know if Joe had questions.”

“Joe?” Eve asked.

“Go ahead. I'll take any help I can get.” Joe's tone was absent as he moved across the living room to stare out the window. “Though that's not high on the priority list at the moment.”

“What are you looking at?” Eve followed him to the window.

“Nothing.” His lips tightened. “Not a damn thing.”

“What do—” Her gaze had followed his. “The patrol car is gone.”

“Right.” His cell phone rang. “And I'd bet that's Mac Gunther to tell me why.” He listened for a moment. “I understand. No, I can't let you do that. It's okay, Mac.” He hung up. “The captain pulled Mac and Brian off surveillance. He apologized and said he'd be glad to come back on his own time and work a double shift if we needed him.”

“The department is doing exactly what Trevor said Aldo would try to make them do,” Eve said numbly. “He wants us alone and unprotected.”

“Then he screwed up,” Jane said fiercely. “We're not alone. We've got each other. Stop looking like that, Eve. He's not going to win.” She turned to Joe. “The department thinks Aldo has forgotten me?”

Joe nodded. “This last kill cinched it for them.” He looked at Eve. “But Jane's right, we don't have to be alone. I'll call a private security agency and get men out here. It just means the department is out of it.”

“Then do it,” Eve said. “Now.”

“I will.” His gaze went to the window again. “It's time we called in all the help we can get.” He was silent a moment before turning away from the window and starting to dial his phone. “I'll get Matt Singer's security team. They're good. Jane, you call Trevor and tell him to get up here. He says he wants to protect you? Well, let him put his ass on the line instead of hovering out there in the woods like a damn chipmunk.”

Chipmunk?” Trevor repeated when he walked into the cottage an hour later. “Really, Quinn. You could have at least compared me to a more interesting and lethal animal. A cougar or wolf would have been nice.”

“Or skunk,” Jane murmured. “Skunks are interesting.”

Trevor gave her a reproachful glance. “I'm here to lay myself open to murder and mayhem and all I get is abuse.” He turned back to Joe. “From what Jane said, I understand your fellow law-enforcement associates have jerked the rug from beneath your feet?”

“It's no more than I expected,” Joe said. “They play the percentages and, if Aldo follows the usual serial killer profile, the odds are against him coming back once he's moved on.”

“Should I be flattered you're paying more attention to my warning than the odds?”

“No, I'm paying attention to keeping Jane safe and to hell with the percentages.” He looked him in the eye. “So tell me what you can do that makes it worth my while to keep you close to Jane.”

Trevor's smile faded. “For one thing just my presence here is a minor deterrent. Aldo knows me and he'll be a little more cautious about moving on her.”

“Only a little cautious?”

“Take what you can get. Sometimes a hesitation can save a life. You should know that.” He added crisply, “And I gather you've arranged other protection for Jane. You could let me handle the day-to-day coordination of the security team. I know something about reconnaissance and sentry detail.”

“So I've heard.”

“It would keep me from under your feet and out of your hair. And that would free you to work more closely with your department to track Aldo.” His voice was soft but emphatic. “And I guarantee no one would sleep on their watch if I was in charge. When are they supposed to get here?”

“In a couple hours.”

“Then I'm just in time to break them in right, aren't I?”

Joe studied him for a long moment and then nodded slowly. “But remember these are private citizens, not mercenaries. No rough stuff.”

“I'll be gentle with them.” Trevor smiled. “As gentle as you'd be if you found them slacking. You SEALs are always prone to discuss and persuade rather than take violent action.”

“You son of a bitch.” But Jane could see his lips twitching. “That was a long time ago.”

“Not that long.” He turned and started for the door. “Oh, by the way. I'm posting someone of my own out front to guard the cottage. His name is John Bartlett and he'll try to be unobtrusive.”

“You said Bartlett was on the case before. But why the hell should I just accept him on your say-so?” Joe asked.

“You shouldn't. Check on him with Scotland Yard. But you'll find he has a motivation that's a recommendation in itself.”

“What motivation?”

“His ex-wife was Ellen Carter. She was one of the first women killed by Aldo in London. He couldn't stand living with her, but he still loved her. Having her burned to death made him very upset. So upset he was willing to put up with me to have a chance at finding Aldo.” He glanced back over his shoulder at Jane. “He's the one who found your photo in the paper. He's had a vested interest in you since he brought that clipping to me. He found out everything he could about you and Quinn and Eve. He's not exactly bodyguard material, but I wouldn't let him close to you if I didn't think he'd be the best man for the job. He won't let anything suspicious get past him. But if you don't want him, send him back to me.”

“I will.”

But he didn't hear. He'd already left the cottage and was going down the steps.

“He was doing everything he could to try to control the situation, wasn't he?” Jane asked. “You'll have to watch him.”

Eve looked at her in surprise. “I thought you wanted us to bring him in.”

“I did. I still think it's a good idea.” How could she explain the dichotomy of her feelings for Trevor? While part of her had been amused and admiring as she had watched Trevor insinuating himself into the fray, she'd still had the impulse to step between him and Joe and Eve. She had never lost the awareness of the volatility and danger that had struck her from the first moment she had met him. “Just watch him, Joe.”

Ms. MacGuire?” The man who had knocked on the door smiled. “I'm John Bartlett. I was the one who did the background research on you and your family. And later I had the honor of watching you myself to make sure you were safe. I feel as if I know you already.”

“I imagine you do.” Bartlett definitely wasn't what she had expected. He was plump, no more than five foot seven, with rosy cheeks, thinning brown hair, and huge blue eyes that were looking at her with a sort of troubled innocence that reminded her of . . . someone.

His expression clouded at the dryness of her tone. “I know I violated your privacy. I only meant to help. And I don't mean to be intrusive now. I'll try not to bother you. But Trevor thinks I can help in guarding you—” He made a face. “Well, not really guarding you. That denotes a certain talent for violence I don't possess. That's Trevor's forte and he does it well. But there are other ways I can help.”