“Penny for your thoughts.”
She jumped, almost forgetting where she was. Seattle. On a ferry. With a probing detective who wouldn’t stop looking at her. She didn’t know whether to be irritated, flattered, or worried.
She cleared her throat and rubbed her arms, trying to be discreet. She didn’t want Detective Travis to know how chilled she really was.
“I was thinking about something that’s been bothering me since I started piecing these cases together,” Olivia admitted. “I mean, you know as well as I do that most serial killers don’t want to be caught. They live for the hunt, they enjoy the kill, and they will do anything to avoid capture. But I was thinking about the BTK Killer, in Kansas. He slipped up and was caught. His crimes were spread over years, but he still only killed ten people. When you mentioned the Green River Killer, I was thinking about how he confessed to forty-eight killings, most of them committed nearly twenty years before he was caught.”
“Most of the cops on the case think he killed far more,” Zack said.
“So do I,” she said. “But the thing is, he messed up. It was his semen that led to his capture-decades-old DNA. We have this killer’s DNA-but it’s not matching anything. He was never arrested for a sexual crime. He hasn’t slipped up. He hasn’t made one of those mistakes that could set us on the path to capture him. For thirty-four years, he’s killed with impunity, hiding the pattern, keeping a low profile so that he can keep on killing these children.”
Olivia blinked. She hadn’t intended to say so much, and she took a deep breath. Zack was looking at her oddly. Had she blown it? She normally didn’t become so impassioned about, well, anything. But being here, so close to Missy’s killer, was doing something to her. She wasn’t thinking straight, letting both the circumstances and Zack’s intense perusal get under her skin. But having to keep her lies in order was far more difficult than she’d imagined.
“Why are you here?” he asked.
“I don’t understand.”
“Olivia.” His voice was low, deep, commanding. “Why you? Why are you here unofficially and not someone else?”
She swallowed and prayed he couldn’t see her raw nerves. These past weeks had been a living hell and it had become more difficult to keep her emotions in check. What could she safely tell him? She was an awful liar. She could skirt the truth-Chief Pierson hadn’t asked tough questions, because Greg had paved the way with a phone call the day before-but lying was next to impossible.
She’d probably still be married to Greg if she’d been able to lie about her feelings.
“I was involved with a case years ago where this killer got away,” Olivia said, carefully choosing her words. “An innocent man went to prison. I want to catch this guy. The real killer. End his reign of terror.”
Zack stared at her. She stared back, determined not to break eye contact. Keep her chin up. Never back down. Never show weakness.
“Guilt.”
She blinked. How could he get so close to her real feelings when she kept them so deeply buried? His inspection of her motives unnerved her. “Well, not so much-”
“Don’t try to get out of it, Olivia. It’s not necessarily a bad thing. Guilt can be a powerful motivator. It also has the power to destroy you. You sent an innocent guy to prison; now you want justice because of your guilt.”
So close. Too close. She didn’t know what to say.
“You’re freezing,” he said.
Once again, Zack threw Olivia off balance. He’d brought too many feelings to the surface, then dropped the subject so swiftly that she floundered.
She began to protest, but he stared into her eyes and simply shook his head, a half-smile on his lips.
Without asking, he draped his worn leather jacket over her shoulders. It was far too big, falling over her hips and hanging past her fingertips. She felt like he’d wrapped her in a bear hug, his residual warmth caressing her. His scent of raw soap and leather permeated her senses. Warm. Intimate. Too intimate.
She tore herself away from his eyes. She bit her lower lip and looked out at the water. The island was much larger than it appeared from West Seattle. She focused on it and not on Zack, but she still pictured his dark, intelligent, probing eyes.
“Why’d you join the FBI?” Zack asked after several moments of silence.
She glanced at him. Mistake. He stared at her intently. If she lied, he’d most certainly know.
“I knew someone who was killed,” she said, looking away. “When an FBI recruiter visited my college campus, I felt compelled to apply after graduation.” There. The truth, of sorts.
“Who was killed?”
Why had she said anything? She was inviting questions she didn’t want to answer. “My sister,” she said quietly, looking at her hands clutching the railing, the sleeves of Zack’s jacket covering her fingers. Just thinking of Missy made her stomach clench.
“I’m sorry.” He sounded sincere. “I had a sister, too.”
She turned to him, surprised. “What happened?”
He paused. “She got involved with the wrong people. Ended up getting herself killed.”
“That’s awful. Was she young?”
“Twenty-two. In college.”
His voice was both bitter and hurt. Olivia couldn’t help but wonder what more there was to the story. But she wasn’t going to ask. He might start up with questions of his own, harder questions she couldn’t avoid.
“The young think they’re invincible,” she said after a moment. “Indestructible. Nothing can hurt them.” She’d believed that for the first five years of her life. And from her experience since, most kids grew into adults before realizing they weren’t superhuman.
Too often, they looked death in the face before coming to that conclusion. The unlucky ones didn’t get a second chance at life.
They were approaching the island. At first, it hadn’t looked like anything was there, just a dim sort of glow on the horizon. But as they came closer, the glow had turned to distinctive lights, and the island took shape against the dark sky.
Olivia turned her head to view the Seattle skyline to the east.
“Isn’t it gorgeous?” Zack said, his voice quiet and filled with awe. “Like jewels against the night sky. This is my favorite view of the city.”
Jewels against the night sky. How beautiful! Yet beauty juxtaposed against the death scene that awaited them hit her hard and she closed her eyes.
She didn’t want to see the girl’s body. She didn’t want to be on the island deceiving anyone about her credentials. Especially a dedicated cop like Zack Travis. But there was no other way, and she admonished herself to get over her remorse.
She would do anything and everything to catch Missy’s killer. Maybe this time the killer had slipped up. Maybe this victim would give them the evidence they needed to find her attacker.
Olivia hoped and prayed for something-anything-that led to the killer.
Before another girl died.
CHAPTER 9
By the time Olivia and Zack arrived on Vashon Island, the girl’s body had already been taken to the morgue. The coroner would expedite the autopsy the following morning in hopes of confirming or ruling out that it was the same murderer who’d killed Jenny Benedict and Michelle Davidson.
Approximately twelve miles long and eight miles across at its widest spot, Vashon Island was a popular getaway spot for both locals and tourists. Miles of pine-edged country roads, pristine beaches, and a historic lighthouse gave the island an old-world feel. The artisans and crafters pretty much ran the place with monthly art shows, a local drama troupe, and numerous fine art galleries.