Jane Doe's Return Read online

  She squared her shoulders and took in a deep breath. Her new boss had called stating Agent Brown would pick her up, but she wasn’t ready to face him. She needed to figure out a way to get Travis to talk about his sister without giving away her own secret. If anyone knew who she was, she’d be transferred quicker than a bullet ripping through a bull’s-eye hole at the range.

  Or worse. She’d be thrown out of the FBI before she had a chance to catch the man who put her in this line of work to begin with. She’d been thrilled the day she heard about the impending trial of Matt Williams, suspected of killing at least five girls, but when she heard his voice on the news, she knew her nightmare hadn’t ended. Worse, future victims were out there, unaware of their fate. From that moment, she’d made the decision to do whatever was necessary to stop living in fear and use what happened to her, and the energy it created, for a greater purpose. She had set out to help others, but soon realized it would be her calling to find Travis, and then find her attacker.

  During her education and training in the FBI, she focused on victims of violent crimes and their attackers. She knew all too well what these victims had suffered, but she also knew with a little help, they could move past it and have a fulfilling life, if they chose. Her goal was to work at the national level dealing with tracking down violent offenders and helping their victims. The Albany office was a stepping-stone to her ultimate goal, so she was truly grateful for the assignment. It meant her superiors trusted her abilities since Travis was on the same track.

  She glanced one last time at his picture. He wore his jet-black hair a little longer than most of the FBI agents she knew. And the way he styled it…well, he overdid it a bit. Kind of like all those pretty boy pop singers that graced the pages of magazines. His deep blue eyes, even in a picture, touched her soul, but she could still see the pain looming behind the brilliant blue pools.

  She scanned the airport terminal, trying to ignore the smell of bad feet. Why did all airports smell like the world walked around without socks on? At first glance, she didn’t see Agent Brown, but a second look around and…there he was.

  He leaned against the wall with a newspaper in his hands. His legs were crossed at the ankles and his eyes appeared to shift as if he were reading the paper. It seemed Special Agent Brown was trying to blend in, almost hide from her. Had she not seen his picture, she would have walked right by him.

  “Agent Brown?” she asked, lifting her chin. By no means was she short, but she had to tilt her head to look him in the eye.

  “You must be Agent Morgan.” He folded the paper and then placed it on top of the trash receptacle next to him.

  “Please, call me Shauna.” She held out her hand and fought the urge to look him over. Attractive men were a dime a dozen, besides, she had a job to do.

  “The name’s Travis.” He took her hand in a firm grip. She liked that, but she was unnerved by the way her hand felt in his. She looked down just as he yanked his hand away. “It’s a pleasure. Luggage?” He pointed toward the sign that read Baggage Claim.

  She fell in line with his long stride. Damn, his legs were longer than hers, and she had an inseam that most fancy designers didn’t know existed.

  “Where’d we put you up?”

  “I’ve got it here, somewhere.” She dug into her purse. “It’s on Wolfe Road, I think,” she said, trying to keep up. “Some kind of residence inn or something.”

  He chuckled. “They put me there, too, but it only lasted a few nights. Not the best place. Basically, it’s a glorified hotel. Have you started to look for a more permanent place to live?” He leaned against a pole in the middle of the baggage claim area and made eye contact.

  She wondered if she hadn’t known about his sister if she would be able to read the sorrow seeping from his intense stare. “I grew up in Saratoga, so I know Albany pretty well.”

  He lifted a brow and the right corner of his mouth tipped in a half smile.

  She tried not to smile back, but she liked his

  personality—the strong quiet type. Not overly confident, but charismatic, and somewhat sensitive. Or at least that was what she sensed. “I don’t like complex living, so I’m looking for a duplex or something,” she added for lack of anything better. She eyed her suitcases coming down the conveyer belt and reached for them.

  He snatched the first one from her, and subsequently, the other two.

  “Thanks,” she said, hoping she hadn’t pegged him wrong. He didn’t seem like the typical arrogant type, but then again, most agents were a little bit on the self-centered side.

  “Not a problem.” He smiled over his shoulder and continued out the doors toward what appeared to be his illegally parked truck. With ease, he raised her suitcases and slid them across the tailgate, then opened the door for her. After tucking her into the passenger seat, he leapt around the front and slipped into the driver’s side, then handed her a file.

  “What’s this?”

  “A rape case I need another set of eyes on. Hungry?”

  “Not if we’re going to be discussing rape while we’re eating.” She placed the file in her lap, resisting the urge to dive right into whatever case the man was working on. She took a deep breath and reminded herself of how her professors would constantly harp on her to slow down and stop trying to figure everything out in the first pass. That patience and attention to detail were the key to knowledge.

  Even her therapists had cautioned her to stop trying to fix or do everything in one day or in one pass. Healing would take time and even those who were committed to recovery and living with whatever it was that hurt them, needed to take their time in coping with the past, present, and even the future.

  “Well, we might be discussing a lot of ugly stuff while we’re eating. Does that bother you?”

  “No. I’ve been told I’m too focused. Too much the job. In need to learn how to separate my career from my life.”

  He laughed. “Me, too. Do you like pizza?” He glanced at her and then pulled off the road. “Capri’s has the best pizza in town.”

  “Pizza sounds good to me.” She went to open the door, but he jumped out, and in two strides, beat her to it. “Thank you, but I’m completely capable of opening my own door.” She was going to have to do something about his apparent need to take care of her as if she were incapable.

  “I’m sure you are.” He opened the door into the restaurant for her, too.

  She smiled politely, but she wanted him to treat her like an equal. Seen for her mind, not her looks.

  He smiled and waved to at least a half dozen people. It seemed he knew just about everyone in the restaurant. That made her uneasy. For years, she had avoided this area, and with good reason. Now, she simply wanted to blend in. She didn’t think coming back would be so hard. However, knowing her attacker could be out there, waiting for her return, sent a shiver up her spine.

  She glanced around the small, but quaint, bar and grill. Booths lined the right side and tables were set down the middle. The left side housed the bar. She noted everyone in the place, who they were with, and what they were wearing. Even if her attacker was here, she wouldn’t recognize him. He had drugged her and she never got a good look at his face.

  Part of her wanted to tell Travis who she was, but not until she was sure he believed that Marie’s killer still walked the streets. Patience, she reminded herself. She also had to make sure he’d continue to keep her identity from their superiors. She had come too far, endured too much. It wasn’t so much about catching this bastard herself anymore, but she truly believed she had something to offer the violent crimes unit, specifically when it came to rape. “I appreciate the kindness, but I’m your partner. You don’t have to open doors and carry my things.”

  The corner of his mouth tilted. “Shauna, I understand. Really I do, but I can’t help it.” He waved the waitress over.

  “Hey, Trav. What’s up?” A cute young blonde bounced over with two glasses of water in her hands. She smiled, making Shauna f
eel even more out of place. She adjusted her shirt collar, brushing her hair behind her shoulders.

  “Hi, Bonnie. The usual for me. Shauna?” Travis shifted his eyes from Bonnie to her.

  “What’s the usual?”

  “Diet Coke with a lemon.” He flashed a grin.

  “Same for me,” Shauna said.

  “If it were after eight, he’d order a beer. Only one.” Bonnie patted his head. “But he’s a good tipper.”

  “Hey! Watch the hair.” He swatted her hand away.

  “I’ll bring the Cokes over and put an order in for pizza. You like sausage?” Bonnie looked at Shauna.

  “Sausage and pepperoni.” Shauna glanced at Travis, who nodded. Damn, the man was way too agreeable. She wondered what he would have done if she ordered anchovies or maybe some vegetarian pizza.

  “Keep an eye on this one and make sure he’s being a gentleman,” Bonnie added playfully.

  As if he’d be anything else.

  “This is my new partner,” he clarified.

  Well, at least he used the word partner. Score one for Travis.

  “Wow. Female agent. Very cool. Glad it’s not a date. You’re definitely way too classy.” Bonnie grinned over her shoulder as she swayed away.

  “Since we are on the subject of being partners, I’d like to discuss something with you.” Shauna took a sip of water, thinking about how to set the ground rules. She needed to gain his trust and learn from him. Not just about her job, but about what he knew and how he could help her. “Specifically being treated as an equal.”

  “For the record, I had a woman partner when I was with the New York City Police Department. She hated it when anyone treated her differently, but she never minded me being a gentleman,” he said, seemingly amused.

  Fool was too cute for his own good. Or maybe hers.

  “What does that mean?” She wiped the dew from her water glass.

  “It means, you being a woman has nothing to do with your ability as an agent, but everything to do with the fact that I’m a gentleman.” He tipped his glass to her and then smiled, showing off his straight, white teeth before lifting the drink to his lips.

  The pizza arrived with perfect timing. She needed to digest his words, but until she got to know him on a more professional level, she would reserve her opinion and choose her words more carefully.

  Her identity would stay a secret until he showed her he believed the real killer still lurked behind a shadow. Waiting for her.

  Chapter Two

  After dinner, Shauna followed Travis back to his pickup. The crisp air did nothing to settle her nerves. She scanned the city streets, hoping Travis didn’t notice her trembling hands.

  “I can’t change this habit, but trust me, I know who you are,” he said as he opened the door.

  Her muscles tensed and she paused. He knew nothing, and yet, he probably knew everything. An uneasy feeling washed over her as she settled into the passenger seat and he in the driver’s seat.

  “How about you take a look at that file?” He pulled out into traffic and headed toward Wolfe Road, where the temporary housing was located.

  “I’d almost forgotten.” She reached for the file, brushing his hand as he went for it at the same time. She looked over at him. “Umm, let me see.” She fumbled with the papers, not liking the effect he seemed to have on her as a woman.

  “Why don’t we sit down and look at it together.” His voice calmed her, which made her more uncomfortable.

  He pulled into a parking lot.

  “Thought this was a temporary housing unit or something?”

  “The units are all basically mini-apartments used by our department and some major corporations. It’s not that bad,” he said with a slight smile.

  She checked herself in and they made their way down the dimly lit hallway toward her room.

  “Okay. What’s the problem with this case?” she asked, after he pushed back the door. Her new surroundings didn’t do much for her, so working seemed like a much better plan.

  “Not sure,” Travis said, then stopped and glanced over his shoulder, shrugging. “Really, I’ve seen worse.”

  Looking around her new living space, she tried to tell herself Travis had a point. The hideous, sagging brown couch that was pushed back against the not so white wall could be spruced up with a bright colored cover. She remembered a flower shop they’d passed and figured the ugly Sixties throwback table might look quite homey with some fresh mixed flowers, really scented ones, because the musty aroma in the room choked her.

  “They’re going to do renovations soon.” Travis tossed her key on the table and took her suitcases to an open door. “The bedroom doesn’t get any better.” He left her suitcases by the door, then turned. “You got the file?”

  “Oh, yeah.” She spread the file on the kitchen table before sitting down across from him. She shuffled the papers over the flat surface, then blew out a puff of air and tried to concentrate. As she scanned the initial police report her heart hammered behind her ribcage. She knew this case. Well, not exactly, but based on what she could gather, she knew whoever killed this young girl had tried to kill her, too.

  She did her best to keep her heart rate as flat as possible as excitement pulsed through her veins. It wasn’t the kind of excitement that made her feel good, but in some ways, it gave her strength. Not only had she been given her dream job, but now her rapist had been handed to her on a silver platter. She would study this man. This rapist. Murderer. Find his weak spot and put an end to his terror. It wouldn’t end there. So many other victims cried for justice and she’d do her best to give it to them—all of them.

  Twenty minutes ticked by as she did her best to concentrate on the file, and not her own emotional roller-coaster ride. She was a full-fledged agent now, and she needed to behave like one on all levels. She reminded herself that this was no longer about what happened to her, but catching a killer, plain and simple.

  Travis didn’t really say anything to her, just pretended not to watch her. The hair on the back of her neck prickled. She asked a few questions and studied the case, keeping herself as detached as possible.

  Lifting two pictures in the air, she compared them. In one picture, the victim’s head was tilted just to the left. The same angle had been used for the second picture, but the head appeared to be straight. Then she noticed a safety pin pressed deep in the green shag carpet in the first picture, but the pin wasn’t in the second one.

  Taking a deep breath, she brought her focus back to the pictures. Not only had the crime scene been tampered with, but this case was older than she thought. She swallowed, knowing others had died.

  “That’s it.” She nudged his arm.

  “Huh?” He took the pictures and looked at them.

  She rubbed her hands on her slacks and pointed to the safety pin.

  “I can’t believe I didn’t see that before.”

  She sat back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest. “Yeah, right.”

  “What do you see?” he questioned with a straight face.

  “I think you know what I see,” she said, frustrated.

  “Tell me.” He pushed the pictures in front of her.

  “The crime scene was tampered with after the first initial photographs were taken.” She flipped over the pictures and pointed to the times written on the back. “And this case is about eight years old.” She tried to swallow, unsure of what her next move should be. Clearly, her skills were being put to the test, but why this case?

  “The guy charged with the case was put away, but not for this murder. Too many things were disturbed at the scene to pin it on him, not to mention the unprofessional way the evidence was treated. To make matters worse, there were no other suspects. Case closed on a technicality.” He turned his chair and leaned back, clasping his hands behind his head.

  She knew Travis had to have personal feeling attached to this particular case. She shoved the pictures aside, desperately trying to keep the fla
shes of the past from interfering with the present. “So, did I pass?”

  He gave a slight smile.

  “That was a little underhanded.”

  “My job is to train you. If I presented this as a test, you would have approached it differently, instead of using your instincts. Which, by the way, are damn good.” He stood and stretched.

  When he twisted his back to the side, she let her eyes drop, then blushed.

  “I better get going. We have a court date at nine.”

  She led the way to the door thinking about her partner in ways that would most likely be considered unprofessional. Compartmentalize, she reminded herself. Keep each detail of her life in its appropriate box and all would be good. “We do?”

  His long fingers squeezed her upper arm sending a pulse down her body. Stiffening her spine, she forced the physical senses to the side and concentrated on her mission. The only way Travis fit into the picture was through the information he could provide. Her attraction to the man would just interfere with not only her career goals, but her personal goals as well.

  Abruptly, he pulled his hand away. “Never a dull moment. I’ll pick you up a 7:45. Goodnight.”

  “Thanks.” She closed the door and took in a deep breath, looking around at an apartment which had little to offer. “I can do this.” She blinked a few times. The same faceless man who had been haunting her mind for years laughed at her. “I’m coming for you,” she whispered. The only way she knew how to close to the door on her past was to find the guy who had nearly destroyed her.

  ****

  Travis pulled down his street noticing an extended cab pickup sitting in his driveway. “Great.” He parked next to Jake Hanson’s truck. “What brings you by?”

  “Working a dumbass case for some rich chick.” Jake stepped from his vehicle and stretched out his tattooed filled arm. “Heard about the latest murder.”

  “I bet you did,” Travis said. “It’s late. I’ve got court in the morning.”