Denver, Colorado, Thursday May 24, 11:45 a.m
The creak of the floorboards in the kitchen above jerked her awake. He was back.
Fear engulfed her insides turning her body to stone. No. Please no. Her breath came out rapid and harsh against her dry throat. She couldn't go through this again. Not again.
She had no concept of time down here. He'd taken her on Monday. What was today? Did anyone know she was missing? They had to. Her family was protective. They'd look for her.
Oh God. Mom and Dad. Grief pierced her heart. They would worry. She couldn't die. Her parents wouldn't survive it. She had to get out! But how? She was tied up on a cot. And she hurt.
She licked her cracked lips and struggled against the rope tied around her wrists. It didn't even budge. It was tied too tight. Her captor was strong. Hot tears welled in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.
She was going to die. Her parents wouldn't see her graduate. Wouldn't see the support and monetary assistance they'd provided paid off. She wanted to make them proud.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs. He was coming down.
Pretend to be asleep! She screwed her eyes shut and tried to still her body. Her heart pounded, the sound so loud she was sure he'd hear it.
The door opened and she heard him walk in.
"I'm back." He called out in a sing song way that made the hair on the back of her neck stand. She continued to keep her eyes closed. Maybe he'd leave if he saw her asleep.
"I know you're awake."
Dammit. Dread built in her stomach. She wasn't going to open her eyes. She wouldn't give him that satisfaction.
"It's okay." He said, his voice deceptively friendly as if they were having a normal conversation over coffee. "You'll open your eyes soon enough."
She heard his movements over to her right where she had noticed a metal table. There was a clicking noise and then something scraping. What was he doing? Unable to help it, she opened her eyes.
He had his back to her shielding whatever he was doing on the table. Look at him, memorize everything so you can tell the cops. He was tall and slim. His hair brown.
He then turned and she saw...normal. He looked normal. Like any guy you'd see on the street and not even look twice at. He had no distinguishing features. That's what scared her the most, the normal exterior disguising the monster. He came closer and she saw something glint off the ceiling lights.
A knife. He had a knife in his hands. Oh my God. A scream rose in her throat but came out a rusty croak. Her throat was dry as dust.
He stood next to her head and held a cup to her mouth. "Drink."
"No." She shrunk back against the table. She wasn't drinking anything from him.
"It's just water. Drink or I'll make you drink." He said harshly. She lifted her head and took a sip.
The cool water was like a balm to her parched throat and she moaned. She greedily gulped more, some of it spilling down her chin. Then he took the cup away before she'd gotten her fill.
"Good. You'll need it to scream." He sneered, his eyes shining with malice.
She flinched. Her heart pounded harder. "Please. Just let me go. You'll never get away with this."
He laughed. "I already have." Then he slowly started removing his clothing.
No. Please God no. She saw his body was excited. He was getting off on this. Sick freak! She couldn't let him do this. Pulling harder against her bonds, she tried to loosen the rope.
He came back to stand next to her and pulled something down over her head to lay around her throat. She glimpsed familiar pink lace. Her panties? What the hell!
He bent so close to her all she could see were his dead eyes. "Let's play."
* * *
Denver, Colorado, Thursday May 24, 12:00 p.m
Deacon escorted Sara down past the bullpen towards the conference room at the end of the hall. He wasn't going to let her out of his sight. Lieutenant Falcon was waiting for them outside the room.
"Sir, this is Sara Lockhart." Deacon turned to Sara. "This is my boss Lieutenant Falcon." She smiled and held out her hand. "Hello sir."
Falcon shook her hand abruptly. "Glad to see you're doing okay Miss. Lockhart." He dismissed her turning to Deacon. "Deacon, everyone is already inside. Hurry up." In other words:stop wasting time with the witness.
Deacon nodded and Falcon walked into the room. He noticed Sara's brow furrowed. "Don't mind him. That's his usual sparkling personality."
She looked up at him and her eyes twinkled. "I won't. You better get in there. Wouldn't want you to get in trouble."
Deacon grinned and leaned down to whisper, "Any trouble would be worth it." He was rewarded with her pretty face flushing.
"Deacon!" She scolded, her eyes darting around to see if anyone heard him. He chuckled and then took pity on her. "Come over here."
He walked her over to a couple of chairs placed in the hallway close to the room. "Sit here until we finish. We'll get you to the safe house after."
She dropped into the chair somehow managing to make it look graceful. "Do you know where the safe house is?"
"No, I'll find out soon though."
Sloane caught up to them. "Hey. Deacon, I'll stay out here with Sara while you're inside."
Deacon raised his eyebrows surprised. "Thanks."
He observed Sara for a minute. Her color was back and she wasn't shaking anymore. She'd be okay with Sloane.
"Sloane will keep you safe. Just rest for a bit."
She nodded at him and smiled that sweet smile that heated his blood. He pulled at the collar of his shirt suddenly uncomfortable knowing Sloane was watching them. He nodded to her, turned swiftly and walked into the room.
Falcon raised his eyebrow, no doubt irritated he'd taken his time with Sara. He didn't care though. He had to make sure she was okay.
"Okay, people. What do we have?" Falcon asked.
Mark spoke up. "I tested for fingerprints but the only ones on the box were Sara's."
Deacon remembered the way Mark had talked to Sara, making her laugh and touching her hand. He felt jealousy spear his gut. Mark wasn't her type? Was he?
"We dusted outside and looked for other evidence but found nothing. He was careful." Mark said.
"I figured." Deacon said. "He was careful with his victims and I expected him to be so now."
"What about the neighbors? Did anyone see anything?" Falcon asked.
Jackson leaned forward resting his elbows on the table. "I did a sweep of the neighborhood and questioned some of the residents. We got shit as well."
"How the hell is that possible?" Alex growled. He raked his hand through his hair again. Something he did a lot. Deacon was tempted to tell him to cut it off.
"The neighbor to her right is a eighty four year old woman who watches her shows every morning at the same time like clockwork. She didn't notice anything." Jackson explained. "The neighbors across the street and on the left weren't home. I also spoke to a woman two houses down but she didn't see anything or anyone out of place."
Deacon frowned. That was really weird. Usually you would notice someone loitering about.
"But how?" Liz voiced his question. "He had to have been following her. How did he do that without anyone noticing?"
"Maybe that's exactly how." Alex said. "He followed her and observed her neighborhood. He knew the ongoings: who lived where and did what at what time."
"Somebody would have noticed him doing that." Falcon countered.
"Not unless he blended in. He could have disguised himself." Deacon stated.
"For God's sake." Alex muttered. "He's really pissing me off."
"What about the bracelets and hair, Mark?" Falcon asked.
"I've submitted them in for testing. Just waiting for the results. I put a rush order on them."
"So we're back to square one?" Falcon snarled.
"I might have something." Jackson typed something on the laptop in front of him. "I've been following the victims movements before they were taken. Trying to figure out what places they all visited. I've found some, like the college, restaurants and cafes. I'm just narrowing them down."
"Were all of them enrolled in college?" Deacon asked.
"They were." Jackson answered. "That's the most obvious connection."
Deacon agreed. Though that didn't mean that was were the killer found them. He had to choose a victim from a place that would allow him to notice them. Where he could observe them. A professor maybe?
"Did they have any classes together?"
"They didn't. They all had different majors as well."
It could still be a professor. But Deacon wasn't sure. They needed more information.
"Okay, keep working on that. Talk to friends and family. There has to be something." Falcon ordered. "Now, for the other matter. We have a safe house lined up. Adam Marshall made a suggestion. Apparently he knows Sara very well."
"Who the hell is that?" Deacon asked. How did he know Sara?
"A-dam is the Assistant States Attorney." Alex supplied giving him a "calm-the-fuck-down" look.
One glance around showed the others were giving him weird looks. Dammit. Just what he did not need.
"He's also married to Sara's best friend. We saw her yesterday morning at their work, remember?"
"Yeah. What did he find?" Deacon strived to sound aloof.
"There's a condo in LoDo that belongs to a friend of theirs. She's supposedly a best selling author currently away on a book signing tour. There are two penthouse suites that Adam co-owns with the author. He's used them before for the same purposes."
It sounded good, Deacon thought. Better than his apartment which had been his first choice. He didn't think Falcon would have approved of that.
"Alright. So we continue to look for clues, try to find his hunting grounds and keep the witness safe." Alex summarized, wrapping up the meeting.
Everyone filed out of the room leaving only Deacon and Alex.
"Yo D." Alex walked over to him. "You know I have your back yeah?" At Deacon's nod he continued. "Be careful with Sara. Something is happening between y'all and I don't want you to make a mistake."
Deacon bristled. "I know how to do my job. I'm not going to let anything go wrong."
"Man, I just said I have your back. This is me having your back. Just be careful. We can't let this guy get away."
He understood what Alex was saying even if he didn't like it. Deacon knew better. He wasn't going to let his attraction to Sara interfere with their investigation.
"Don't worry. I won't fuck this up."
* * *
Denver, Colorado, Thursday May 24, 12:10 p.m
Sara admired Deacon's broad shoulders and the play of muscles in his back as he sauntered away. He really was gorgeous. How she was able to notice at a time like this she had no idea. She tore her gaze away and saw Sloane staring at her in amusement.
"What?" Sara asked defensively. "He's too good looking."
Sloane burst out laughing. "I didn't say anything. I don't blame you."
Sara grinned at her. She found the other woman's blunt humor refreshing. She was really pretty too and curvier than Sara.
Sloane reached into a bag she had with her and pulled out a bag of chips and a couple of chocolate bars. "Here, you need some sugar."
Touched, Sara chose a snickers bar. She hadn't realized she was hungry. She'd been too nervous that morning to eat more than a couple of bites of oatmeal. "Thank you. I really wish I hadn't lost it like that earlier."
"That was a normal reaction. You experienced something horrible. Don't beat yourself up."
Sara sighed. "That's just it. I do beat myself up. I was weak six months ago when I ran like a coward and left my friend behind to be killed." She was surprised to find herself opening up. "And today, receiving that box... I broke down." She shook her head in disgust.
Sloane's emerald eyes sharpened. Sara saw the detective in her now. "It. is. not. your. fault." She punctuated each word firmly. "You did what you had to."
"You wouldn't have ran away." Sara muttered.
Sloane leaned closer and grabbed her chin in such a gentle way her eyes stung. "I am trained for that. I've been in tough situations. You didn't know what to do. Give yourself a break. You went through something no one ever should. Don't keep looking back. I know it's easier said than done. But Linda wanted you to run. You listened. Honor her by living your life and being happy."
Sara chuckled. "You dole out chocolate and great advice. What else you got in your arsenal?"
Sloane winked. "You'll have to find out. Not fun if you know beforehand." She opened a chocolate bar and took a bite before saying, "Take it one step at a time. Remember Linda but don't fall under the guilt and grief. Don't let that bastard do that to you."
Sara felt something lift inside her. Even though she knew she would forever regret leaving Linda, maybe she could find some semblance of peace now.
"How do you deal with the stuff you see?" Sara asked her.
A shadow passed over her eyes. "I bury myself in work. And I try to make sense of what I've seen. Talk to someone."
"I'm surprised you admitted seeing someone. Usually people are ashamed of that."
Sloane shrugged. "I don't go around advertising it. I know I can't do my job if I'm struggling with my mind."
Sara understood that all too well. At first she'd been too afraid to go to a therapist and talk about what happened. She thought she had it under control but then she started to have panic attacks at random moments. She struggled with leaving the house and going to work. The last straw was when she had a back flash in a grocery store and completely broke down. Ever since then she met with Dr.Coleman, a lovely lady who helped her so much.
"Well all struggle with things, Sara. Even your Deacon." Sara tried not to blush that she called him her Deacon. "He has demons in his eyes anyone can see."
He did? How did she not notice that? Maybe because she was going through something traumatic and couldn't see past her own problems.
"What are his demons?"
Sloane shook her head. "I think about a past case but even if I knew I wouldn't tell you. It's his to share." Sara's respect for her ratcheted up another notch.
The conference room opened and she saw everyone coming out. The Lieutenant walked past and following him were Mark, a woman she didn't know and the intense detective that was at her house earlier. The detective stopped next to Sloane and spoke to her in hushed tones.
Deacon and Alex walked out a minute later. "We got a safe house for you." Alex informed her.
"Where is it?"
"Your friend came through." Deacon said. "Her husband found a condo in lower downtown that belongs to some author."
"Okay. Are we leaving now?"
Deacon nodded. "Yes. I need to stop by my apartment first, grab some things. Alex, do you mind getting the condo prepared before we come?"
"Yeah. I'll text you when everything is set up."
* * *
Deacon pulled up in front of an older building in a quiet but nice neighborhood. The apartment had a slanted roof and was three different colors: red brick on the bottom, pale yellow on the top left and a mustard yellow on the top right. Some parts were a pale blue. It looked a bit wacky but still cute.
"Come on. I'll be quick. I just need to get a change of clothes."
She got out of the car and felt her stomach knotting up. She blew out a breath realizing she was nervous. This was the first time they were alone together.
She followed him inside the building and up a set of stairs to the second floor. He walked down the hall and turned to the last door on the right. He unlocked it and held the door open for her.
She walked in and looked around. She was a little surprised. He had sparse furniture. Almost as if he hadn't settled down. There was a sofa in the living room, with a coffee table and a tv stand. And that was it.
"I want a family first."
She turned to see him watching her. "What do you mean?"
"I'm a single man with a dangerous job that doesn't have specific hours. I don't need much. I'll buy a house when I find a woman serious enough."
"I understand." She didn't know how she felt about him reading her so easily. Then again he was an FBI agent. He was trained in reading people. "I wasn't judging you or anything."
"I know you weren't. I just answered your unspoken question."
She shook her head reluctantly charmed and smiled.
"You can come with me. I'll pack real quick."
She followed him into his bedroom. Her heart rate increased. It felt so intimate to be standing where he slept. She lost sight of him when he went inside his closet. Spying a couple of framed photographs on his dresser, Sara walked over for a closer look.
One was a vintage photograph of a smiling couple. His parents maybe? The second was a photograph of Deacon with a freakishly gorgeous woman. He had his arm around her and they both sported big smiles. Sara felt a twinge of jealousy. Who was she? The third photograph was of a younger Deacon at what she took to be his high school graduation. He was with another boy and an older man, both who had the same black hair and gray eyes as the woman in the second photograph.
"My family." Sara startled. She hadn't heard him come up behind her. She twisted her head and saw him looking down at the photos. She caught a whiff of his aftershave. God, he smelled so good.
"Those were my parents." He said referring to the vintage photo. "They died when I was five."
Sara gasped. "I'm sorry, Deacon." That was awful. She was close to her parents and they meant the world to her. She couldn't imagine ever losing them.
He shrugged. "Thanks. It was a long time ago though." Still. She didn't think you could ever really get over something like that.
"How did they die?" Sara asked carefully.
"Car accident. Afterwards I went to live with my uncle. He was an army veteran who suffered from PTSD but he was a good guy. He did his best to take care of me. And he did until he died from a liver infection when I was fifteen."
"Oh Deacon." She breathed, her heart hurting for him. She reached out and touched his arm lightly. "What happened then?"
His eyes met hers while he lifted the hand she had on his arm and kissed her knuckles. Her heart fluttered. "I ended up in a foster home. I bounced around for about a year before I was placed with the Devereuxs. They lived in New Orleans."
"Where were you from?" She interrupted.
"Baton Rouge, Louisiana." He lips quirked. "My uncle built himself a cabin in the bayou. I wanted to stay there even after he died but the system wouldn't let me."
Oh sweetheart. How difficult it must have been for him. Losing everyone in his family and then having to leave his home to go elsewhere. She wanted to hug him but didn't think she had the courage to actually do it.
"Did you like New Orleans? What were the Devereuxs like?"
"I loved it. New Orleans...is very alluring." He chucked. "The Devereuxs were okay. They didn't care all that much though. Just wanted their check."
Anger washed over her. "Are you serious?"
He paused, his gaze flickering across Sara. "It's okay, Sara. They were good compared to others."
"Well true," she allowed. "But it's still not right."
"It's fine because then I started high school and I met Sébastien. We became best friends. Joined the football team. Hung out all the time. I spent more time at his house than mine. His sister is Lilliana." He motioned with his head towards the photograph with the beautiful woman.
"She's beautiful."
Deacon grinned. "She is. I met her when she was thirteen. She's like my sister."
Sara tried to tell herself she wasn't relieved that he only thought of her as his sister.
"Bastien And Lilli were the siblings I never had. Their dad also took me in. We spent holidays together and went on vacations. Then when we turned eighteen, Bastien and I were roommates at college. I got my bachelors and signed up for the academy. Bastien went on to do top secret homeland security stuff."
Sara could hear the love he had for them in his voice. She was thankful that he had them after losing his earlier family. "What about Lilliana?"
He smiled fondly. "She went to college too and then followed me to the academy. She's a profiler though."
"Wow. That's impressive."
"Yeah." He touched his knuckles to my chin. "So you see, I'm happy with my life. I may have lost my parents and uncle but I gained another family. I choose not to dwell on the loss."
"That's good. I'm glad you have them, Deacon."
"Me too. Tell me about your family."
Before I could start, his phone dinged with a text message.
He checked the screen. "It's Alex. The safe house is secured. We should go now to get you safe."
She nodded. Deacon kissed her hand again and said, "You can tell me your family story once we're situated."
"It's a date."