Rebecca could sense she had hit a nerve, and she felt immediately guilty. Not enough to give her an apology, but enough to try to smooth things over. As much as she resented the FBI’s involvement, she did appreciate what help they had given her and jeopardizing the relationship didn’t seem as important as it once had. “Listen, since we are going to be working together pretty closely for a while, I’m going to do something I don’t do…ever. Call me Rebecca.”
It wasn’t much of an apology, especially since Jordan had already done away with formalities…at least in her head. Jordan quirked an eyebrow, not sure that she had heard her correctly, but when she saw the smile on Rebecca’s face, she knew she had heard right. It was the first genuine smile she had seen from the woman since they met. “I’d like that.” When she said it, she meant it. It was one step closer to getting to know the mysterious redhead sitting next to her. “And you can still call me Jordan.”
“So, Jordan, how do you want to handle this?” It was another attempt by Rebecca to smooth things over, one that surprised even herself. Normally, she could give a rat's ass what anyone else's opinion was. However, here she was, asking for Jordan's, and if she didn't know any better, she was willing to accept her input, not just trying to appease her.
Jordan swallowed a lump in her throat. She was shocked for the second time in as many minutes. First, they were on a first-name basis, and now Rebecca wanted to talk about what was happening between them. “Well, I don’t know for sure, I’ve never dated anyone I worked with.”
Rebecca’s laughter filled the car.
“What?” The look of genuine surprise on Jordan’s face was priceless.
“You thought I meant how we would handle something between us?” Rebecca wiped tears from her eyes. “There is no something between us, Agent. Get that through your thick skull. What I meant was how do you want to handle the Hudson thing?”
“Oh.” Jordan couldn’t think of any response that would make her faux pas any less embarrassing. “How about I just be your wingman? Let you take the lead.”
The corner of Rebecca’s mouth turned up slightly. Jordan was good. She could tell that Rebecca wanted to be in command, and she was content to stand by and let her take the lead. “I think that’s a good idea. Just watch him. If he so much as flinches the wrong way, you cover me.”
The drive to O’Hare was completely ignored during their conversation, and Jordan had pulled into the loading zone and flashed her badge before Rebecca knew they had even stopped driving.
When they walked into the room, Richard Hudson jumped up and started pointing angrily. “It’s about fucking time. Maybe you can tell me why I’m being detained?”
Rebecca's eyes met Jordan’s, and they exchanged a knowing glance. The rumors of his temper had not been exaggerated. “Mr. Hudson, please have a seat.”
“I’ve been sitting for two hours.” He started pacing the room. “Now somebody start talking. I know my rights, and you have no authority to keep me here.”
Rebecca didn’t budge, her eyes held his until he realized that he wasn’t going to get any explanation until he cooperated.
Rebecca took the seat across from him, and Jordan opted to stand in the corner of the room, her behavior almost that of disinterest to the casual observer. However, her focus was on him, and she had already taken in details that many might miss. In his agitated state, he wrung his hands together with enough force to drain the blood from his fingers. He also had a nervous tick that made his right eye twitch. Despite being directly across from Rebecca, his eyes darted nervously between them. All of those could be signs of guilt, or merely the machinations of an innocent man who had been held up and provided no details about his sudden detaining. Time would tell.
“I’m Detective Foxx and this is Special Agent Gray.” She pulled a folder out and left it on the table unopened. “I’m sorry to have kept you here.”
He looked as though he wanted to say something about being detained, but thought better of it when he saw the look in Rebecca’s eyes. “What’s going on? Why am I being held here?”
“I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but your wife was murdered last night.” Rebecca’s gaze was trained on his face, looking for a sign of guilt, for anything that seemed out of the ordinary for a man who just learned his wife had been murdered. If there was a tell, he hid it well.
“What? Oh my God.” Richard Hudson’s mouth opened and closed. His eyes registered shocked disbelief. “No, no, not my Elizabeth.” He buried his head in his hands. “What about…what about my baby?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Hudson, the baby did not survive.” Rebecca didn’t think it was a good time to bring up the fact that the baby had been taken.
The sound of soft sobs filled the room, and Jordan used the opportunity to study him. The sobs sounded convincing, but then she remembered he had done this once before. Grief could be faked. She had seen it done in the past.
“How did it happen?” His sobs quieted to soft inhales of breath and an occasional hiccup.
“Are you certain you want to know?” Rebecca voiced her concerns, not sure that he would be up for hearing details of her murder. That was assuming he was innocent and not the UNSUB they were looking for.
“She’s my wife, Detective Foxx, I need to know how she died.” His eyes held hers, and Rebecca knew that she had to tell him. He needed to know as a means to move forward.
“Her throat was cut and she bled out.”
“Is that it?” His hands wrung together slowly, as if steeling himself to hear the news.
“I know what’s been all over the news. Was that all that happened?” His eyes pleaded with her for the truth. It was at this particular moment that Jordan started to doubt his act. Was he interested in how his wife had been attacked because he loved her and he needed to know, or was he a psychotic killer who knew the details and got off on them being repeated back to him?
“No.” Rebecca looked over her shoulder, her eyes asking Jordan a silent question. She interpreted her nod as a sign to tell him everything. “She was raped and the killer took the baby.”
Richard Hudson looked as though he might vomit. Anger flared in his nostrils, and Rebecca could see in his eyes someone capable of murder, maybe not his wife, but someone.
“I’m so sorry for your loss.” At that moment, she did feel sorry for him.
“I want to see her.” His tone was cold, and she sensed a small amount of the man that had a prior arrest record for physical violence.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” It was true. Rebecca didn’t think it was a good idea to show him Elizabeth’s body. As angry as he was now, she knew seeing his wife lying on a cold autopsy table might bring out the devil in him.
Richard Hudson jumped up, and his chair slammed back into the wall. He leaned over the table and stuck his finger in Rebecca’s face angrily. Before she could even react, Jordan had come around the table and grabbed him by the arm, hauling him back roughly.
“Mr. Hudson, while I can appreciate your grief, you will do well to remember that assaulting an officer isn’t a good way to get what you want.” Her voice was low and even, and she left no doubt that she was willing to do whatever it took to see that Rebecca was okay.
“Agent!” When Jordan didn’t pull away, Rebecca shouted again. “Agent Gray!” Rebecca slammed a folder down on the table loudly. “I can take care of myself. If Mr. Hudson wants to see his wife, I’m sure we can arrange it.”
She wasn’t sure what made her agree to it, especially after he had thrown himself at her. Something in his eyes made her change her mind. She wanted to see how he reacted when he saw the body. Perhaps then she would be able to judge his guilt or innocence. She was buying into the whole grieving husband act, and she didn’t want to be wrong.