The serious man actually chuckled. So the guy obviously had a soft side, if only for his cop girlfriend. Suddenly recognizing the name of the town Jackie mentioned, Alec asked, “Hope Valley? The Reaper case?”
“Yes,” Dean replied.
“Wait-are you talking about the sheriff who helped you bring him down?”
“Stacey Rhodes,” he said, obviously proud. “She was sheriff at the time, but didn’t run for reelection. She was ready for a change and wanted to-”
“Move in with your grouchy self,” Jackie said.
“Leave him be,” said Lily, who had been quietly listening to the exchange from just inside the small, cramped break room: a glorified closet with a coffeemaker and a sink.
Though a member of the team, Lily seemed to hover on the periphery, and not merely because she wasn’t in the hall with the rest of them. The woman appeared comfortable being slightly on the outside, not in the middle of things, as if she hadn’t totally let down her guard. Alec didn’t take it personally, having noted the separation was from everyone, not just him.
“Don’t pay attention to either of them, Alec. We really aren’t that nosy around here.”
“Yeah, we are,” another voice said. Kyle Mulrooney had arrived. The barrel-chested man, his slicked-down black hair unmoved by the windy weather, removed his coat and tossed it on a rack. “So nosy we’ve got a few questions for you, Lambert.”
Alec stiffened. He had been waiting for this, wondering when they’d work their way up to asking him about the rumors. Anybody who bothered to look into the case would know he had been shot by the sixty-year-old mother of the suspect. Not a girlfriend, not a wife, not a young suspect he’d gotten tangled up with against all policies and agency rules. But few people were interested in looking into it.
An agent had died. Alec was to blame. That was all they needed to know.
“There’s something Dean’s been dying to ask you,” Mulrooney said, his jowly face pulled into a frown. “Uh, who’s your tailor?”
“Bite me, buddy,” Dean said.
Stokes snorted, and Alec felt the tension leave his body. His coworkers were going out of their way to welcome him today, while they hadn’t the previous few. It was as if they’d waited for him to prove himself and, somehow, yesterday he’d done so.
Now they were intentionally bringing him into their world, letting him know that, even though he hadn’t been a Black CAT for long, he was one of them. And whatever they’d heard about him before he’d arrived, they were giving him a chance, as their boss had.
At least, that was how he interpreted it.
“Ignore them. We’re glad to have you,” Lily said, confirming he was right.
He couldn’t name a moment in his career when he’d been more appreciative. “Thanks,” he murmured, saying more than just that simple word.
Lily got the message. “There’s no outside garbage here; we drop it at the door.”
“Yeah, ’cause everybody treats us like garbage, anyway,” Kyle said with a wide grin, as if not bothered by the idea whatsoever.
Alec thought he understood. There was a certain freedom in being ignored due to Wyatt’s infamy. The ability to operate under the radar, investigating an unsub who appeared to be a serial killer the BAU had been hunting for years, for instance.
Kyle continued. “I guess you might be good enough to become a gen-u-ine Black CAT.”
Smiling as he realized the team didn’t seem to mind the nickname, which he’d already gotten used to himself, Alec said, “Thanks. I’ll do my best.”
Lily stepped out of the break room, closer to the group, though still maintaining a few feet of distance. Not fully joining in, but trying. “And I hope you’re not second-guessing yourself about yesterday. Trying to engage the unsub through Mrs. Dalton’s Web site was an excellent idea, and we all wanted it to succeed.”
Stokes jumped in. “There’s still a chance. I checked the site this morning; comments are still coming in. Not from Darwin, but he could be watching.”
“If Darwin is the Professor, he’s definitely watching,” Alec murmured, feeling sure of it.
He didn’t mention that he had also checked the Web site every hour throughout the night. And every time he checked, he found himself wishing he could have kept Sam out of this nightmare.
“He’s the Professor,” Jackie said, sounding certain. The other three agents nodded, the conclusion a unanimous one among the team. “We all know it.”
“I agree,” Alec said, wondering if they heard his lack of happiness about that.
He hated to admit it, knowing they needed the lead, but he wouldn’t be completely disappointed if the man who had reached out to Sam was not who they were after. She’d been through so much already. Hearing what her bastard ex had put her through had broken his heart a little. That she had been drawn out only because a psychopath had zoned in on her as some kind of ally seemed not only unfortunate but damned unfair.
She could already be out of it.
If only he could believe that. Though as of an hour ago their unsub had not returned to Sam’s Web site, Alec knew it could still happen. The Professor was out there, an angry, murderous bull, and Sam was holding the red cape that could enrage him.
He would worry about any civilian in this situation; it was his job. But last night, Alec had realized he no longer had the impartiality of his job to hide behind when it came to Sam. Already, this was deeper. This was personal.
He let himself repeat it, if only in his head: His feelings toward Sam Dalton were personal. It had taken a lot to say good night and leave her in the doorway last night, when neither of them wanted him to go. He’d been tempted by a lot more than the friendly poker game she’d suggested. Losing himself in the softness of her mouth, which he suspected hadn’t been offered to any man since her prick of a husband had tossed her away, it had taken serious willpower to walk away after just one kiss. But a second helping would have led to only one place: bed.
Maybe when this is over…
Yeah. Maybe then. What might happen, he couldn’t say. Maybe it was only attraction, as he’d told himself at first, and his liking and admiration for her wouldn’t come into play.
But he doubted it.
“You think he’s just waiting it out, wanting to get more of her blog visitors riled up, screaming for his blood, before he comes back and ‘instructs’ everyone?” Lily asked, making the very point Alec had been considering.
“Yes, I do. I think he’s intentionally letting the debate rage on, liking the attention and the drama he started. When it dies down…”
“He’ll stir the pot again,” Kyle said. “Like a sous chef straight outta hell’s kitchen.”
Right. And when and if Darwin stirred the pot, they’d be watching. Alec had only one fear-that Sam would stir it first.
He couldn’t think about that. He needed to focus on the case, stop the Professor before he hurt anybody else. Before he dragged Sam deeper into his nightmare. That included finding some other way to talk to Jimmy Flynt.
“There is one other possibility about why Darwin didn’t come back last night.” Lily’s shoulders were slumped, looking as though they carried the weight of the world. She didn’t have to continue. They all knew what the other possibility was.
The Professor might have been out killing someone.
“What’s going on? Did I miss a staff meeting?” Brandon Cole entered the office. Pink shirt today, loud tie. Alec felt pretty sure he’d seen the look on a billboard or on the cover of GQ.
“Perfect timing; we’re about to go in,” said Jackie.
Alec glanced at his watch. Seven twenty-five. Tossing his briefcase onto his desk, he joined the others in the conference room. Wyatt was waiting for them, poring over some paperwork strewn out on the table. Glancing at one file, Alec realized these were copies of the evidence report from Ryan’s and Jason’s murders.