Love me to death

She almost said no. “And what would I tell Fran?”

“Can’t you show me around the office?”

“For a couple of hours?”

“I’ll drop you off; you give me the grand tour. I have a few tricks up my sleeve. Then I’ll leave and watch the building while you work, pick you up when you’re done.”

“What kind of tricks?”

“Legal-ish tricks.”

Lucy stared but didn’t say anything.

“I think it’s best you don’t know,” he said.

She crossed her arms and continued to stare, frowning.

Sean raised an eyebrow. “No need to get testy. I’m going to bug the office.”

“You’re not bugging Fran’s office.”

“We’re not stealing corporate secrets. We’re trying to find out who at WCF used you to target and kill sex offenders. I think it’s pretty damn important to get the right information, don’t you?”

Sean’s casual posture painted a false picture. An undercurrent of anger still coursed through his voice. He added, “If the killer learns you figured this out, you’re in danger. I need all the information I can get.”

Lucy didn’t know what was the right thing to do. But deep down she was humiliated and angry that she’d been used in this deadly game.

“And,” Sean said, “you need to tell your ex to keep a lid on this. If you trust him.”

“All right,” she said. She looked at the clock. “I need to get my files and laptop.”

“I’ll wait.”

Sean watched Lucy walk out of the room and when he was certain she was out of earshot, he called Jayne in Sacramento.

“Jayne, I need you to run some people for me, complete background.”

“Hold on a sec, okay?” Without waiting for him to answer, she put him on hold.

Half a minute later, a male voice said, “Sean?”

“Duke?”

“I told Jayne the next time you called, I wanted to talk to you. You don’t have any active cases. What’s going on?”

Even three thousand miles away, his brother was second-guessing him. They’d had this conversation a hundred times-and Sean had thought that after he’d worked several complex cases both on his own and with Patrick, Duke had finally accepted that he was a grownup capable of running an investigation without his big brother’s guidance and micromanagement. But it wasn’t until Duke-reluctantly-agreed that Sean and Patrick could open RCK East that Sean thought he had truly changed.

“Do I need permission to use Jayne?” Sean asked.

“No, of course not, but-”

“Then why are you doing this?”

“Patrick told me about Roger Morton’s murder. The FBI is investigating, and we have a delicate relationship with federal law enforcement and need to finesse any parallel investigations.”

“And you think I don’t know that?” Sean didn’t particularly care about finessing any relationship with the FBI, but he wasn’t burning bridges, either.

“I just want to be kept in the loop.”

Sean decided to save this battle with Duke for another day. He didn’t have the time or inclination to fight now. “This is unrelated to Morton. There’s a vigilante group targeting sex offenders, and Lucy Kincaid is unwittingly in the middle of it. They used her to set up their victims, and I need some deep background checks.”

“Who knows about this?”

“No one except you, me, and Lucy. And possibly a local cop. He’s the first I want to check out. I don’t think he’s involved, but he has access.”

“Give me the names. I’ll take care of it personally.”

“For now, two-Cody Lorenzo, a D.C. cop, and Frances Buckley, the director of WCF. She’s former FBI.” Because he’d assured Lucy he’d be discreet with Prenter’s victims, he’d take care of those himself.

“Got it. I’ll run these and call you later.”

“Duke-”

“What?”

“If you want to talk to me about how I’m running RCK East, call me. Don’t put Jayne in the middle of it.”

Duke didn’t say anything for a moment. “Fair enough. But you have to understand-”

“No, I don’t have to understand anything about your lack of faith in me. I’m twenty-nine. You were running Rogan-Caruso when you were twenty-nine. I thought this move was a positive step, that it proved you trusted me-”

“I do, Sean.”

“Not when it matters.” He hung up.

Lucy came back into the dining room with her laptop packed into its case and a thick file folder. “I’m ready.” She tilted her head. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Just a disagreement with my brother.”

“Business or personal?”

“Both.”

She nodded in understanding. Sean leaned over and kissed her lightly. “We’re going to find out exactly what’s going on. Trust me.”

“I do.”

Duke had known him his entire life and didn’t completely trust him. Lucy had known him for a few weeks and was putting her future in his hands. In their hands, because she was just as involved in this as he was. Sean wasn’t about to let her down.

They walked down the hall and she gestured toward a vase of red roses. “Thank you,” she said as she opened the alarm panel.

“For what?”

“The flowers.”

Sean halted mid-step. He stared at the roses, as if the answer of who sent them was printed on their petals. He said flatly, “I didn’t send you flowers.”

“But-” Lucy’s voice caught when she saw the truth in his expression.

Sean looked at the table and saw the card. Fury and fear raced through his bloodstream as he read the brief message.

I had a terrific time at the ice rink yesterday. I’ll see you soon.

“I didn’t write that. Who knew we went skating yesterday?”

The panic that crossed Lucy’s face was tangible.

“No one,” Lucy whispered. “No one.”

TWENTY-TWO

Lucy was wrapped up in her own thoughts as Sean drove to WCF. She hated feeling like a victim again and vowed she wouldn’t. She wasn’t a victim. She’d fought back six years ago, and while she lost a couple of rounds, she’d won the battle. She’d survived. She’d prospered. She had a life and a future and family.

Someone watched you yesterday at the ice rink. Some sicko saw you with Sean. Saw you kiss him. Dirtied what was pure and fun.

Her stomach heaved and she closed her eyes, prayed that Sean couldn’t see her inner turmoil. But when her eyes were closed, memories of what Roger Morton had done to her flooded her mind: flashes like a camera, others watching as she was raped and beaten.