Part 10 (1/2)
Paige went into her room and retrieved both cards. They were both in plastic evidence bags, along with the lab reports. She handed them to him. Sam studied the cards for a few minutes, then stuck them in the back pocket of his jeans.
Paige paced the length of the small living room in quick, tight circles. ”I should have stayed in New York, baited Thames, and brought him down, but I'm not the same woman, the same agent I was before that day on the mountain. After that day, I was too afraid.”
Sam went cold thinking of her baiting Thames. He put his hands on her shoulders, halting her. ”No, you should not have done that. You're alive. You did everything right.”
”I didn't do anything right. I didn't do anything at all. I ran. As soon as I knew the first postcard had come from Thames, I transferred to Denver. The one-year anniversary of that day in the Adirondacks was a few weeks ago. I received a second postcard. This postcard also was an image of the Adirondacks. It was sent to my home in Denver. I don't know how he managed to track me there, but he did, and I ran again.
”I came here, but he's found me twice before. No matter where I go, he'll find me. I think he has, Sam. I think he killed Janet Lambert. I know his MO is different this time. I know the victimology is different. Even the postcard image is different.
”I don't know why he would choose Lambert, but I think he did. I'm the only one who would know the significance of the postcards, and I think that's why Thames left it. He wants me to know that he knows where I am, that he can get to me at any time.” She made a choked sound. ”I have no proof of any of this. It sounds crazy even to me.”
Her face lost what little color it had left. She stopped moving and curled into herself, making herself as small as she could. Sam pulled her against his chest. She clung to him, trembling in his arms. Thames was breaking her down, keeping her on the edge, never knowing if today was the day he would strike.
Sam didn't know how she'd withstood the pressure, the torment, for this long. He knew seasoned agents who'd cracked under less. And she'd been on her own. But no longer. Every muscle in Sam's body tensed with rage. Thames would have to go through Sam to get to Paige now.
He drew back just enough to look at her, then nudged up her chin. ”You're not alone in this.” His eyes bore into hers. ”Not anymore.”
Paige squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them, she stared into his eyes. ”You can't know how much that means to me.”
But Sam did know. Her eyes were wide and vulnerable. Seeing her anguish, Sam's heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vise. ”We will end this with Thames.”
”I need to protect Ivy. I never believed Ivy was in danger from Thames. I was sure she posed no interest to him, but Sam, if I'm right about Janet Lambert and that he chose her to send a message to me, I can't be sure he won't go after Ivy.”
”We'll put a man on her.”
”Once she's at school, she'll be safe,” Paige said. ”For student safety, all the doors at the school, except for the front entrance, are kept locked so no one can get in. I don't want her to know about this. I don't want to frighten her when all we have so far is speculation.”
”We can do that. Our man can follow the vehicle that drives Ivy to the school, watch the school, then follow the vehicle back here again. How's that?”
Paige gazed up at him. ”Thank you.”
There was a wealth of emotion behind her words, and the vise around Sam's heart squeezed harder. For far too long, she'd had no one but herself to count on. Again, he thought, That's over now. Sam palmed the back of her head. Gently, he sifted his fingers through the silky strands of her hair. He held her gaze and covered her mouth with his. Protectiveness and possessiveness that he'd never felt for any other woman surged through him, and he crushed her against him.
Paige reached up to where Sam held her face and curled her fingers around his wrist, kissing him with the same intensity.
Sounds came from Ivy's room. Paige drew back and gave him a soft smile.
Sam stared down into those gorgeous eyes and couldn't resist brus.h.i.+ng his thumb along her full lower lip, now made fuller by his kiss. ”I'll make the call. One of our people will begin tailing Ivy right away. I'm going to go home and grab a shower, then I'll be back. Janet Lambert's autopsy is in a couple of hours in Columbia. We need to be there.” He touched her cheek softly. ”Be back soon.”
When Paige came out of her bedroom, showered but still in her white bathrobe, the apartment intercom buzzed. She glanced at her watch. That would be Sam. When he confirmed it was him, she pressed a b.u.t.ton to unlock the building door.
Sam reached her floor quickly. As soon as he stepped off the elevator, Paige met him. ”Ivy?” Paige asked anxiously. Ivy hadn't left for school, and Paige wanted to be sure an agent would be watching her when she did.
”It's taken care of.”
Paige closed her eyes, overcome for a moment. Sam seemed to notice. He brushed his lips over her hair and just held her.
Paige opened her eyes, then backed into her apartment. ”I'm running late. Give me a few minutes to dress. I haven't made coffee, but there's some in the cupboard to the left of the sink if you'd like a cup, and there's breakfast stuff in the fridge.”
Sam snagged her hand as she whisked away from him. ”I've already eaten. I can make something for you.”
Paige stopped moving and went into his arms again. The emotion that welled inside her was far out of proportion to his offer, but it surged and swelled. She was experiencing emotional overload this morning. His arms wrapped around her, and he tucked her head under his chin and held her against him. Paige wound her arms around his waist, holding him as securely.
He cradled her head in his large hands and kissed her as if she were the most precious thing in his life. She'd never felt precious to anyone. Not even to her parents. They hadn't really known what to make of her as she'd made choice after choice that defied their own desires for her. When she'd walked away, out of their lives, they hadn't stopped her.
Sam must have sensed the dark turn her thoughts had taken. He cupped her chin and peered down at her. ”Whatever you're thinking, I can see it isn't good.”
Now wasn't the time for her revelation. ”I'm wondering if you can cook.”
Sam raised his brows. ”I can make toast.”
Feeling ridiculously close to tears, Paige said, ”Toast would be great.”
Paige left her bedroom for the second time that morning. This time, she was fully dressed and smelled coffee brewing. A toasted English m.u.f.fin sat on a plate with a container of low-fat cream cheese beside it. Sam was speaking on his cell phone. His gaze flicked to her and held.
”I'd appreciate if you could send me that information,” Sam said. ”Thank you.”
She took a step closer to him. ”What is it?”
”I've been thinking about what you said about Thames tracking you, if that is indeed what is happening. We need to find out how he's doing that. You mentioned that you think Thames has someone keeping tabs on you. Let's go with that.
”I put in a call to the warden at the penitentiary to have the records of Thames's visitors, phone calls received and made, and any correspondence sent to us. Thames doesn't have any family or close colleagues at the college where he worked. He was a loner. In prison, he wouldn't have had access to any resources he could use to track you. He would need someone outside to do that for him. That person could be his one loose end. We need to find him.”
Paige felt hope for the first time. Not only did Sam believe her, but getting the records might actually generate a lead.
Sam spread cream cheese on the m.u.f.fin. ”We'll leave for the autopsy as soon as you've eaten.”
”I'll take it to go.”
Sam studied her. ”Have you observed an autopsy before?”
”I was present for the three performed on Thames's victims. I'll be fine in there.” Paige glanced at the clock on the microwave. ”I'll let Ivy know that I'm leaving.”
One hour later, Sam led Paige to an office across from the morgue, which was located in the bas.e.m.e.nt of the building that housed the Columbia Bureau Offices. A woman seated at the polished desk glanced up.
”Been a while, Sam,” she said.
”Lindy, how've you been?”
The woman had a round, ruddy-cheeked face that contrasted her dyed emerald-green hair. She peeled her lips back from her teeth and squeezed her eyes in a comical expression. ”I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you. Isn't that what you feds say, or maybe that's the spies?”
Sam smiled and turned to Paige. ”Lindy, this is Agent Paige Carson from our office. Paige, Dr. Melinda Walden.”
Walden came around her desk. ”Paige, good to meet you.”
”Likewise.” Paige returned Walden's robust handshake.
Walden led the way across the hall and through the double doors into the morgue. The autopsy theater was brightly lit and cool, illuminating every corner of the polished surfaces and tiled floor. Like the other morgues Paige had been in, this one smelled of disinfectant and harsh cleaning products. A thin man garbed in a lab coat and wearing surgical gloves stood over the body.
Walden pulled her hair back from her face and secured it with a rubber band at her nape. She made her way to the sinks and began to wash her hands. ”Sam, you remember Tom, my a.s.sistant.” Without waiting for the men to respond, she went on, ”Sam, we've already taken her photos and X-rays.” Walden dried her hands, then donned gloves and a lab coat. ”Okay, lady and gents, let's get started.”