Aura of night a novel, p.24
Aura of Night--A Novel, page 24
Beau seemed to be astounded and overwhelmed. At first, he looked at them all, shaking his head. Then he tried the same tactic Letterman had tried, saying, “Don’t be ridiculous. I wasn’t trying to kill anybody. I like it on the wild side, and you made it sound like it was exactly what you wanted, too.” He twisted to look at Ragnar. “I didn’t kidnap her. I didn’t abduct her! I wasn’t going to hurt her—”
Jackson walked into the cabin.
“What was that grave you dug out there for?”
“Rats!” the man said.
“That’s one big hole for rats,” Ragnar commented.
“I’m afraid we don’t believe it for a second,” Jackson said. “Beau, or whoever you are, you’re coming with me. You are under arrest. You have the right to...”
His voice trailed as he walked the man out of the room.
Jordan Wallace smiled at Ragnar and then their group. To Megan’s surprise, she walked over to her and gave her a hug. “You really might have saved my life. I mean, I knew I’d have agents following me, and I had a tracker; but I didn’t know what he slipped into my drink. Wasn’t sure he’d try that. But if I was knocked out, I wouldn’t have been able to pull a gun on him once I was in the coffin. Or it could have been poison. Some of these Embracers have practiced necrophilia. And I am trained to watch, but I will say this for good old Beau, he is quick when he wants to be!” She backed away. “All of you—thank you. The timing was perfect.”
“You were doing just fine,” Ragnar told her. “Great presence of mind. We got everything on him we needed to get.” He looked at the others and said, “Wallace was just drawing on him when I came through the back door. Easy to cuff the man.”
“And help me out of the coffin, thank you very much,” Wallace said. “So...what’s next?”
“A forensics team is on the way. They work all hours of the night. Special Agent Wallace, did he say anything else, about accomplices—”
“I’ve had my phone recording since he hit on me at the bar,” she replied, “And please, just call me Jordan in this group.”
Introductions went around and the young woman smiled. “I figured you two were siblings. Oh! I’ve heard about you!” she said, looking at Megan. “But I thought—”
“Colleen Law is our third,” Megan said. “My sister is the agent.”
“Oh! Then you’re with the police—”
“I’m a book editor,” Megan said. “Mostly fiction.”
“Oh,” she said, her brows knitting.
“It’s a complicated case. Megan was the woman taken by Ayers, Carver, and Boynton when they wanted to get their hands on Colleen.”
“And Patrick?” she asked warily.
“Criminal psychologist most of the time,” Patrick said. “I’m an independent, usually out of Philadelphia.”
Hugo rushed forward, not to be left out.
“He’s the one who picked the right trail,” Ragnar said.
“Then, thank you!” she said, stooping to pet the dog. She stood and stared at Ragnar. “And you really are an agent?”
“I am,” he assured her.
“I, uh, I met with Jackson to prepare for the night. I’m grateful. It was my first—my first assignment of this kind. I believe there were people who thought I wasn’t ready, but...anyway, I admit to being nervous and so... I’m talking too much.”
“We’ll head out as soon as the forensic team gets here, and I don’t believe it will be long,” Ragnar assured her. “Where did he say he was taking you?”
“Home. At the bar, he said he’d just get me home so I didn’t have worry about driving. The bartender had been approached by the Bureau as well. He knew not to give me alcohol, but I pretended to swill my soda, and he believed I was drunk. He also believed I was almost passed out in the car. I didn’t try to ask him where we were going. When he parked, I just lolled around and smiled, and it was then he promised me the best and most unusual sex I was ever going to have.”
She shook her head. “He just...he couldn’t be experienced at this kind of thing. He never checked to see if I had any kind of a weapon on me. He fell completely for my bad acting and was stunned when I squirmed in the coffin and reached for my gun. I think he was going to fall back and grab something, but Ragnar burst in at that point and he just wilted. He thought there was no way in the world he was going to be caught.” She frowned. “I’m still at a loss as to how you managed to know he would have gone for that nurse, and what he would do!”
“Notices—we discovered through the last man apprehended that whoever is calling the shots is wording notices posted on trees and in stores and on lampposts in ways that convey exactly who he is suggesting be killed,” Ragnar told her.
“Oh, wow,” she muttered.
Lights were coming through the trees. The forensic team had arrived. One of the women, gray-haired, slim, and wiry, approached Ragnar and said, “Special Agent Johansen, hello. Thank you again—so much better arriving at a scene like this than one with a body.”
“Thanks, Maggie,” Ragnar said, obviously knowing the woman. “Anything on this cabin?”
“Scheduled for demolition. There were programs taking place out here, but they’ve moved them to a new place closer to town. This is a little too far for school groups. Angela sent us the information, which makes me think...”
“Go on,” Ragnar asked.
“This guy has something to do with the state rangers. He may not be one—I sure hate to think that he might be—but he might do work that’s connected. Anyway, we’ll be searching, keeping in mind everything that has come before.”
“Thanks, Maggie. Any little thing can help.”
She nodded, smiled at the others, and walked over to help her team.
“Let’s head out,” Ragnar said. “Obviously, Jordan, we’ll be getting you back.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“You must be exhausted,” Patrick said.
She shook her head. “Adrenaline,” she told him. “And gratitude. I’m heading home, and I hadn’t told my fiancé about the assignment, just that I was working really late.”
“He’ll be very proud of you,” Patrick said.
She smiled vaguely and said, “I won’t wake him. He works early.”
“What does he do?” Megan asked her.
She waved a hand in the air. “Politics! Ugh. But we tolerate each other’s jobs—vocations, you know. Anyway...you’re an editor, and I think that’s so interesting,” she told Megan. Linking arms, they headed through the woods. “What kind of books?”
Megan knew Jordan didn’t want to talk about her personal life. It still seemed bizarre to be leaving the woods—even after a successful operation—and talk about her sci-fi books. But she did. It seemed to be what the young woman needed.
Megan liked her. She was clearly an exceptional agent, but equally casual and friendly. When they reached the car, Jordan was fine to sit in the back with Hugo between her and Patrick.
Of course, Megan liked her more because she was so natural and easy with Hugo.
“What does he usually do? Drugs, cadavers, missing persons?” she asked.
“Treats,” Megan said. “He’s trained because of my family, but he isn’t really a law enforcement dog. He’s usually a pet.”
“Oh?” Jordan said. “This has certainly been an interesting evening.”
“It’s an interesting case,” Ragnar said, glancing at Megan.
Jordan’s address was a home in Georgetown, a nice townhome on a historic block. And though she was an agent who had competently handled a tough task, Megan knew Ragnar would wait until he saw she was inside her home with the door locked behind her.
As she left the car, though, Jordan turned back. “I just want to say again you were wonderful at that bar. You might have saved my life. I knew you were behind me, and I hate to admit it, but I didn’t see when he slipped whatever into my drink. You should be an agent.”
“Thank you,” Megan told her.
“Thank you all again!” Jordan said, lifting a hand and heading for her home.
When she was inside, they started for the safe house.
Patrick leaned forward. “Megan, are you thinking about going to the academy?”
“No.”
“You could, you know. It would be convenient for you. Both.”
“Patrick!” she wailed.
“Sorry. Anyway, you did give one hell of a performance tonight.”
She smiled and remained silent. Ragnar had glanced her way. He was amused.
Celebrate! she thought. Yes, the feeling was there again. An agent had gone in as a duplicate, but as bait she was still in danger. And she had done just what she was supposed to do.
But she had been able to do it because Megan had acted quickly and well.
And once again, it felt good. Really good.
Celebrate...
It would be hard to do so with wild abandon with her brother in the next room!
As they neared the safe house, Ragnar said, “Tonight was good. Megan, we’re all grateful for what you managed to read from that notice. But every agent we have can bring in every ‘lost dog’ and ‘garage sale’ notice out there, and we might not find them all.”
“Can there be that many men who are that sick in one region at the same time?” she asked.
Ragnar winced.
Patrick leaned forward. “Without the notices, without the promise of something more, I don’t think all these people would act. For most of us, killing is a painful thing. I’ve come across contract killers with their own brand of ethics. Killing is their work, but they have standards. They’ll kill a man or woman who used a technicality or a lack of hard evidence to get out of a prison sentence, but they draw the line at the innocent. There are killers who dream about the power of life and death over others; but they’d just dream on if they weren’t urged, prodded, or promised a reward if they carried through their desires. There are also people who normally wouldn’t kill, but they will do so if necessary to further their ends. And then there is the aspect of fame—believe it or not, there are killers who want to be known throughout history for the depth and depravity of their deeds.”
“And you lucky people get to deal with them all the time,” Megan said.
“Don’t your alien spiders kill people?” Patrick asked her.
“Yes, but they’re not real!” Megan said. “Anyway...”
“At the moment, you’ve made yourself an invaluable asset,” Ragnar said.
“And that does feel good,” she admitted. “But... I don’t know.” She sighed.
“The whole of it is overwhelming,” Ragnar said. She saw him smile. “And still, you want to help our friend, Sergeant Alfie Parker.”
“The poor man!” she said. “Haunting that graveyard, working his best even in death. Yes, he deserves our help.”
“He does,” both men agreed.
She really wished they didn’t seem to be quite so in tune with one another.
Megan’s phone rang as they reached the safe house, and she answered it as Ragnar put in the code. Hugo leapt around the yard seeking the right place for his last relief, and Patrick stared at her.
No surprise. It was Colleen, anxious and upset, trying to assure herself Megan was all right. Colleen and Mark had heard about what had taken place that night. They were unofficial, but Jackson was still keeping them in the loop.
Patrick took the phone from Megan and began extolling her work that night.
Colleen was calmer when Megan took the phone back.
“At least Patrick is with you now, too.”
“Yeah. It’s, uh, great,” Megan said. “What are you still doing up?”
“Waiting to hear from you. It’s a full house here.”
Megan started to laugh. “Great honeymoon you’re on.”
“Yeah, right,” Colleen told her. “But it’s okay. We’ll have time together. It’s important that these women feel safe.” She hesitated. “And feel as if someone cares.”
“Right. And thank you.”
“Okay. Get some sleep. I’d tell you that you probably worked better and smarter than many an agent might have...”
“No. I don’t want to be an agent.”
“I wasn’t suggesting it. I know how you love your books.”
She did love books. And she hadn’t had one in her hand now in days.
Nor had she written a word.
“Okay. Get some sleep,” Colleen told her.
“Will do. You do the same.”
“Not much else to do in such a full house!” Colleen told her.
They ended the call. She had wandered into the kitchen with Ragnar and Patrick as they’d been speaking, and she saw both men were digging into the refrigerator for water bottles. Ragnar brought one out for her.
“Thanks. So, sleep,” she said.
Patrick made a display of yawning. “I sleep really deeply!” he said. “Hugo, you come with me. Now.”
Hugo whined and looked at Megan.
“It’s okay,” she said, and Hugo pattered off after Patrick.
“Bed,” Ragnar said, walking toward the bedroom.
She followed him, stripping off her jacket and tossing off her shoes.
“Sleep,” she said.
“Yep. I got it. No celebration.”
She slipped out of her trousers and remembered the little holster that held the gun Ragnar and Patrick had agreed she needed. She released the catch and set the gun on the nightstand.
“I’ll get used to it,” she said.
Bed. Sleep. But she wasn’t even sure she’d managed to take a nightgown out of the room next door. And looking at Ragnar as he disrobed as well, she decided she was just going to have to crawl in and curl up in the opposite direction.
But her back brushed his flesh. She moved closer.
She turned into his arms, her face wrinkling with dismay.
“My brother is in the next room.”
“We could be really quiet.”
“Do you think we could?”
“You were brilliant, and I know you like to celebrate.”
She smiled. She wasn’t too sure they could be really quiet. But this time in her life was so unusual. And he was so extraordinary.
She slipped her arms around him, drawing her face to his. In seconds, she was lost in the wet fire of that kiss. They moved together; the length of their bodies giving and receiving the same kind of sweet, searing heat.
They made love, and they curled together.
But that night, Megan couldn’t help but wonder how she could just go back to where she had been before. She loved being with Ragnar. She had never felt so incredibly warm, so secure and tenderly held. This time, the closeness they had achieved was important. But by her own words, their relationship was only for this time. And she hadn’t even wanted to think it, but she had been lucky. In the midst of all the danger, she’d found something amazing. But she hadn’t forgotten about her job, her life in New York City. Which she loved, and had worked hard to build. Nothing she could do about that right now, she thought. They were still far from figuring out how Ayers was pulling the strings, and if there wasn’t another shadow puppet master above him. There was too much at stake here.
At last, she slept.
* * *
In the morning when Megan woke, Ragnar had already risen. She knew she would find him in the kitchen.
She hoped he and Patrick were discussing the case.
And not her.
Showered and ready, she headed into the kitchen.
“We’re going to go at Joel Letterman first,” Ragnar told her. As she had expected, he was at the stove. He saw her glance at him, and he shrugged and said, “Yeah, omelets again. But fear not! New ingredients this time. Different cheeses and vegetables.”
“And bacon! Because I requested it,” Patrick said. “Hey. We’ve been talking. I’m going to go in with Ragnar. We’re letting both men think the government has decided they need a psychiatric evaluation.”
“Wait! If they see you as a psychiatrist, it won’t be ethical to share anything they tell you.”
“No, they won’t be seeing me as their counselor. I’ll just be introduced as one in case they want to go that route to claim not guilty by reason of insanity.”
“You think Rory Ayers will claim insanity?” she asked skeptically.
“No,” Ragnar said. “But I am interested in his reaction if it’s suggested he’s less than together, mentally. And that is a route he can take if he doesn’t get the high-priced attorney he thinks is coming his way.”
“Okay,” Megan said.
“And I’m listening...for everything he isn’t saying out loud,” Patrick added. “I find it more effective in person.”
Ragnar nodded gravely. “It will be more important than ever. Also, Angela is still trying to arrange to talk with the man who was Carver’s attorney. She still hasn’t been able to reach him.”
“Carver is dead. He can’t be getting any messages from him anymore,” Megan said.
“He’s a public defender. He has other men in those facilities he is still defending,” Ragnar said.
“But there’s nothing in his background that would suggest he is a killer,” Megan said.
“The man who called himself ‘Beau’ from last night proved not to have so much as a parking ticket,” Ragnar said. “His real name is Ned Bentley, and he works for a paper production company—one that buys some of their raw materials from the forestry service when trees or bracken need to be cleared out. That was how he knew about the cabin.”
“How did he know to read the notice?” Megan asked.
“We don’t have an answer to that yet,” Ragnar said.
