topaz brown eyes that changed color depending on the color she wore and on her mood, alternating from a smoky yellowish hazel to a fine, golden bourbon.
When he put his arm around her waist and pulled her toward him, he felt her stiffen. “It’s just a dance,” he reminded her. “You’re not committing yourself to spend the night with me.”
“God forbid.” Her gaze lifted and clashed with his.
He drew her closer, allowing their bodies to touch intimately. “Relax, honey. You’re stiff as a poker.”
“Don’t hold me so tight.” She wiggled her shoulders. “And do not call me honey.”
He loosened his hold, giving her a little breathing room. “Better, Blondie?”
“Yes, thank you.” She frowned. “Blondie?”
He grinned. “It suits you.”
She huffed. “I suppose it’s better than honey. Not quite as generic. But you could just call me Maleah, you know.”
“I could.” His grin widened. “Would it help to know that I’ve never called another woman Blondie?”
“You’re determined to aggravate the crap out of me, aren’t you?”
He laughed. “It’s what I live for . . . Blondie.”
As they danced to the smooth, romantic jazz tune, Derek tried to think of some innocent subject, something that wouldn’t lead them into another verbal confrontation.
“Lorie was a beautiful bride,” he finally said.
“Yes, she was.”
Silence.
“It’s great about Cathy being pregnant,” he said. “Jack’s over the moon about it.”
“Yes, he is. He’s really excited about being with her through the entire nine months since he missed out on doing that the first time around.”
“Some men are cut out to be fathers. Jack’s one of them. So is Mike.”
Maleah nodded. “Cathy’s a great mom. And I think Lorie will be, too. She’s great with Mike’s two kids.”
“Do you ever think about having children?”
She paused mid-step. “I wouldn’t bring a child into this world without having a husband first and since I don’t intend to ever marry—”
“You’re really an old fashioned girl, aren’t you?”
“Only about some things.”
“I agree, you know, about not ever getting married and having kids.”
“Why am I not surprised? Why settle down with one woman when you can have your choice of women to sample, a different flavor every week?”
“Why indeed.” Yeah, he could pretty much have his pick, had seldom been turned down, and had successfully avoided committed relationships. He had never allowed himself to care enough about any woman who could tempt him to willingly give up his freedom. He had learned, at his mother’s knee, how a woman could use love to manipulate a man, turn him inside out and eventually destroy him.
Just as one tune ended and another began, Maleah pulled away, but Derek grabbed her hand and refused to relinquish his hold.
“One more dance,” he said.
While she debated his request, his cell phone vibrated in the inside pocket of his tuxedo jacket. Reluctantly, he released her hand, reached inside his jacket, and removed his phone. Derek noted the caller ID. Griffin Powell, his employer.
“Yeah, Griff, what’s up?” Derek’s gaze connected with Maleah’s, both of them aware that it was highly unlikely that Griff would be calling if it wasn’t important business.
Maleah waited until he had answered the call and then walked with him off the dance floor.
“He’s struck again,” Griff told Derek. “I don’t have all the details, but we’re relatively sure it’s the same person who killed Kristi and Shelley and Holt’s brother.”
Absolute dread tightly coiled Derek’s stomach muscles as he asked, “Who’s the victim?” Was it another Powell employee, as the first two kills had been, or was it a Powell employee family member, as the third murder victim had been?
“Ben Corbett’s seventy-year-old father,” Griff said. “Ben’s the one who called me. A couple of fishermen found the body this morning, but there was no ID on the guy. Apparently he didn’t have his wallet on him. They ran his fingerprints and didn’t get a hit.”
“How did they finally ID him?”
“It seems Mr. Corbett has a breakfast date with a lady friend every Saturday morning and when he didn’t show up, she went to his home. When she couldn’t find him, she started searching for him. One thing led to another and she finally went to the police earlier this evening.”
“Ben’s on assignment, isn’t he?”
“He was in California. He chartered a plane and is flying into Birmingham and renting a car. His dad lived outside Cullman, which is about an hour drive from Dunmore. I want you and Maleah to head down that way as soon as possible. You two can get there before Ben can. When he arrives, he doesn’t need to handle this alone.”
“We’re leaving now,” Derek said. “I’ll pick up my laptop at the hotel. You can send me any other info that we’ll need.”
As soon as Derek slipped the phone back into his jacket pocket, he faced Maleah. “The boss wants us to drive to Cullman tonight. Ben Corbett’s father has been murdered.”
“Damn. Griff thinks that it’s the same person who murdered Kristi and Shelley and Holt’s brother, doesn’t he?”
“Yeah, he does.”
“Why didn’t you tell Derek everything that we know and about what we’ve decided?” Nicole Powell asked her husband moments after he ended his conversation.
“We’ll explain it to him and Maleah together,” Griff said. “I’ll have Barbara Jean compile all the information the agency has accumulated. Maleah and Derek can read over everything and digest it all before I tell them that I expect them to take over as lead investigators on the case.”
“We might be closer to solving this mystery, if it hadn’t taken us more than two months to connect the dots.”
Griff draped his arm around Nic’s shoulders as they stood on the patio overlooking Douglas Lake. “When Kristi was murdered, there was no way we could have known that her killer would target another agent. Until he killed Kristi and then Shelley, their murders identical in almost every way, we couldn’t have known he had a specific MO. And even after Holt’s brother was murdered and Barbara Jean discovered there had been three killers in the past with a similar MO—the Savannah Slasher, the Carver, and the Triangle Man—it took time to study each killer and figure out if our guy was copying one of them.”
“After what we just found out, do you think Maleah is the key to everything that’s happening?” Nic asked.
Griff squeezed her shoulders. “Possibly. But we can’t rule out any of our other scenarios, especially since we don’t know why anyone would be out to punish Maleah by killing people connected to the agency.”
“Unlike you and me. We both have enemies from the past who could be targeting us.”
He nodded. “Yeah, unlike you and me. The logical assumption is that whoever is behind these murders is doing it either to punish me or to get my attention.”
“But it’s possible that the rumors floating around Europe about Malcolm York being alive have nothing whatsoever to do with these murders. You can’t assume you’re the target simply because someone, thousands of miles away, may be pretending to be the man who kidnapped you twenty years ago. It could just as easily be someone from my past, someone connected to one of my cases when I worked for the Bureau.”
“You’re right, of course, “ Griff agreed. “That’s why we cannot rule out any possibility.”
“You don’t think there’s even the slightest chance that the real Malcolm York is alive, do you?”
Griff’s square jaw tightened. “York is dead. I have no doubts. Yvette, Sanders, and I killed him sixteen years
