“What?” Jordan’s feigned mock horror. “You don’t trust me to keep you safe?”
“Given what we’ve seen him do to the victims, I am not taking any chances.” Rebecca grabbed her coat off the chair. She was about to put it on when Jordan took it from her. She stood behind her and held it for her to slip her arms in then pulled it up over her shoulders. “Thanks.”
Twenty minutes later, Jordan eased to a stop two houses down from Richard Hudson’s house.
“Why are you stopping?” Rebecca pointed to the nondescript car sitting opposite the house. “Plain clothes are already here. Let’s get this bastard.”
“Doesn’t this seem too easy?” Jordan rubbed her chin. “Julien said he was smart. This seems all wrong. Do you honestly think he would be dumb enough to give us a trail of bread crumbs? Leaving his DNA at the scene. He might as well have left his business card.”
“I’m sure he didn’t leave it on purpose. He got spooked. And you said yourself-he technically doesn’t have a record. He would have no reason to believe the DNA would lead us to him.”
Jordan shrugged. “Maybe you’re right.”
“Besides this is your guy. You called it.”
“I guess so.” Jordan opened the door, got out and nodded at the undercover officers. “How do you want to do this?”
“Just a conversation. I want to get this guy downtown. Have a little chat with him. I can’t arrest him without a warrant, and I don’t want to give him a reason to run.”
“Works for me. You take the lead.” Jordan followed Rebecca up the steps to his door, taking in her surroundings. In the dull glow of the porch light, she could just make out flowerbeds. Neat and tidy, despite the fact that the winter had killed all the plants, and there was only rock filling them. The house was impeccable and showed no visible signs of wear.
Meticulously cared for, some would say. Jordan’s mind went to Julien’s profile of the UNSUB. Meticulous would certainly describe him. He didn't leave but one loose end. She rapped on the door loudly and saw a faint light at the back of the house. She was carefully schooling her face to look as nonchalant as possible, which was a difficult task, given the fact that she knew how brutally he had treated those women.
What seemed like an eternity later, Richard Hudson finally answered the door. His clothes hung haphazardly, and his eyes were puffy and swollen. He held a half-empty bottle of tequila, and Jordan could tell this wasn’t his first.
“Detective?” His voice slurred, and the word was almost lost in a mumble of incoherence. “Can I help you?”
Rebecca stepped forward, stopping just shy of the door. “Mr. Hudson, there’s been some new developments in the case. We’d like to get you up to speed.” She looked around, feigning suspicion. “In a more secure location, if possible.”
His inebriated state erased the suspicion he might normally feel at their oddly timed arrival. In fact, if asked, Jordan could swear it appeared as though his eyes lit up. God, he’s good.
“Sure. Right now?”
He started to pitch forward, and Rebecca caught him at the shoulders, righting him quickly. She felt the sinewy muscles beneath his sweater, and she could see where someone with his wiry, but strong build, would have no trouble subduing a woman, especially one in late-stage pregnancy. “Is an hour okay? I can have plain clothes bring you down…since you’re in no condition to drive.”
He flicked his eyes to the bottle and laughed sardonically. “Seems to be the only thing holding me together right now.”
Rebecca stepped back, freeing up his personal space. She wasn’t sure what to make of the man in front her. He didn’t seem like a cold-hearted killer, but she was sure they hadn’t contaminated the DNA. “We can wait until tomorrow, if you would prefer.”
Jordan let out a quiet sigh. She wasn’t sure what angle Rebecca was playing, but was pretty certain she would have approached it differently, for fear of giving him a chance to run. She bit her tongue to keep from talking.
“No.” He stood up straighter, suddenly sober. “I’ll come now.”
Rebecca nodded her ascent and walked off the porch. She stopped at the dark sedan parked across the street. “Bring him down to Grand.”
On the way back to the Precinct, Rebecca called the Assistant DA, pulling him away from dinner. She gave him the information she had on the case and requested a warrant for Richard Hudson’s arrest.
She hung up the phone and turned to Jordan. “I just want to be ready.”
“Good plan.”
“Once he realizes what we have on him, he’s going to run or lawyer up, and I’m not letting him slip through the cracks this time.” Rebecca toyed with a piece of lint on her pants. “Thank you, by the way.”
“For?” Jordan turned and studied her face.
“We wouldn’t have caught him without you.”
“Sure you would have. Just maybe not as fast.” Jordan smiled sincerely. “With or without the FBI’s help, you would have eventually tracked him down.”
Rebecca shook her head. “I’m not so sure about that. He got away with at least two rapes and who knows what else.”
Jordan captured Rebecca’s hand in hers, and gave it a reassuring squeeze. The initial contact made her jump. Heat radiated from her palm straight to her stomach and a pleasant flutter started building within. She let go just as quickly, afraid her feelings would get the better of her. “Let’s not split hairs. It doesn’t matter who is responsible for catching him. Let’s worry about taking him down. No mistakes.”
“No mistakes.” Rebecca repeated the words almost to herself. She rubbed her hand subconsciously. She couldn’t remember a time when her body had reacted to another woman the way hers did with Jordan. A simple, harmless touch and she was ready to come unglued, and that was unacceptable. Rebecca Foxx didn’t come unglued for anyone.
Chapter 14
Jordan watched Rebecca lead Richard Hudson into one of the precinct’s three interrogation rooms. She offered him water, which he summarily refused. She watched his body for signs of guilt. Hands he couldn’t still, eyes that looked around shiftily. There were none.
She wanted to sit with Rebecca while she interviewed him, but she had been refused, and now she was stuck on the opposite side of the glass listening to a tinny, second-rate version of the conversation.
“Mr. Hudson, I wanted to bring you down here so we could get a better idea of your wife’s habits, find out if there was anyone that she fought with recently, something to help us build a timeline up to her death.” She opened a folder. “Do you mind if I start with some questions?”
He shook his head. “No. I want to help. I want you to catch whoever did this to my wife.”
She nodded and read several notes before continuing. “Give me a rundown of your wife’s day. Does she work outside the home?”
“Yes.” He winced with renewed pain. “Lizzie and I fought about that all the time.”
Rebecca raised an eyebrow and regarded him suspiciously.
“We argued, okay? I didn’t hurt my wife, if that’s what you’re thinking.” His eyes softened. “Lizzie didn’t need to work. I make enough. But that’s the type of woman she is. She was a teacher at Northwest Middle School.”
Rebecca scribbled on a notepad. “Did your wife enjoy her work? Had she had any arguments with anyone there?”
Richard shook his head. “No, everyone loved Lizzie.”
“How was Mrs. Hudson lately? Was she depressed? How was she handling the pregnancy? Did you notice any behavioral changes in her?”
Jordan watched Rebecca, and the corners of her mouth quirked up in a slight smile. She was incredibly calm, given the circumstances. Anyone watching would have thought she was conducting the interview with every intention of catching the real killer and not actually sitting in the same room with him. Her focus jumped back to Richard Hudson as he answered, still searching for signs that he was guilty.
“No. In fact, I’ve never seen her happier. She loved being pregnant.” His hands wrung together slowly. “We had a really hard time getting pregnant and when it finally took, she was ecstatic.”