Jane Doe's Return Read online

  “Your mother seems to think you’re in need of a towel.” Shauna stood near the edge of the dock, not looking too pleased about the situation.

  Knowing he had other plans, he smiled to himself. “Did you bring two?” The thought of her sporting a wet T-shirt was about the only thing he could focus on at this point. He climbed up onto the dock and shook his head like a dog, splattering water on her.

  “Stop it!” She backed up. “My God, does your hair ever look messed up?”

  He shrugged, then flashed her his best smile. “The water’s nice.”

  “I don’t want to find out.” She moved back even further, holding her palms to him.

  “Oh, come on, Shauna.”

  “You try to push me in, I’ll take you with me.”

  He chuckled. “Already wet.”

  “Travis, don’t.”

  “Give me one good reason.” He winked, jumping behind her, not allowing her off the dock, and backing her toward the lake.

  “I don’t have a change of clothes.”

  “I’ll find you some.” Only a few inches were left between them.

  She bit her lip and looked over her shoulder. It was about the sexiest darn thing he’d ever seen. Visions of taking her in his arms and kissing her until they both begged for air almost overtook him. But then he was having too much fun acting like a teenager.

  “I can’t swim,” she said.

  “I don’t believe you.” He lunged forward. “Crap.” The miscalculation about how quick she could be cost him, but the lake felt a little warmer this time. He opened his eyes in the moonlit water, making it easy for him to see the surface. She bent over, hands on knees, and he assumed she was looking for him. Thank God he could hold his breath a long time. His feet squished in the seaweed, then he pushed off the bottom of the lake and surged up out of the water, grabbing her arms and yanking her in.

  She cursed something as she hit the water.

  He laughed, swimming for the dock and hoisting himself to a sitting position.

  When she came up, she spit a mouthful of water at his chest. “Was that fun?” A spray of liquid hit him in the face from her splashing hand.

  “Loads.”

  “Give me a hand.”

  He took her outstretched hand. “Oh, not fair,” he muttered just before he gladly went under. Something about being in the cool lake on a starry night with a beautiful woman made him forget all about his job.

  When he came up, she was waiting for him with a mouthful of water. “Truce?” she asked.

  “Who gets the towel?”

  “I can’t believe you asked that.” She chuckled as she hoisted herself up on the dock and grabbed the towel, rubbing it against her hair.

  The quickening of his pulse at the sight of the moon shining against her light brown hair caused his breath to hitch. As his eyes moved across her face, down her throat and to her chest, his pulse came to an abrupt halt. Her nipples were pressed hard against her T-shirt. She covered her breasts with the towel and frowned.

  He snatched it away. “My mother taught me to share.” All he wanted to do was gawk. No. He wanted to touch.

  Violently, he dried his hair, all the while staring at her breasts. The increasing bulge in his wet jeans was decisively uncomfortable. So uncomfortable, it destroyed his good senses.

  Catching her gaze, he inched closer, then dropped the towel to the dock.

  Her eyes were apprehensive, but approachable. He had to taste her. Fully taste her. He knew she would taste like a woman should. Warm, soft and…

  He pressed his mouth against hers.

  Her eyes fluttered closed, giving him permission to deepen the kiss.

  He could feel his control begin to snap as he traced a path across her lips with his tongue. A mixture of fresh spring water and apples filled his taste buds as he probed the inside of her mouth.

  Her mouth parted as her tongue greeted his, matching his soft gentle strokes.

  The swell of her breast filled his hand. His thumb rubbed the hard nub through the wet fabric. She arched her back, pressing her breast more firmly into his palm. Her body responded to him, setting him on fire.

  Unable to get close enough, he cupped her behind, pulling her firmly against him. He moved his kisses to her neck, licking off the lake droplets from her soft, supple skin. “So beautiful,” he murmured.

  “Travis!” His mother’s voice filled the air, killing the moment.

  “What?” His breathing was still labored and his gaze heavy with desire as Shauna took a step back.

  “Jake’s on the phone for you,” his mother called.

  “Tell him I’ll call him back. And we need a couple more towels.” He took Shauna by the hand. “I’m sorry.”

  “Me, too.” She sighed.

  He couldn’t tell if she was sorry about the kiss or getting interrupted, again. Man, did Jake’s timing suck.

  Later, when it came time to head back to Albany, Travis felt an emptiness hit the pit of his stomach. Shauna had pulled away from him, keeping any conversation they had to small talk.

  He had wanted to take her to his place, not her room. Working with her every day would certainly be a test to his manhood. She affected him on every level. She was the most dangerous kind of woman, a woman who could be his equal.

  ****

  By the time Sunday rolled around Travis needed to get rid of some pent-up energy, as he called it. Sexual frustration would be putting it mildly.

  He held the phone in his hands. “Are you nuts?” he yelled at himself, slamming the phone down, knocking over a picture. The only person he could think of to call had been her.

  She was the last person he should be calling in his present state of mind. And body. He dialed Jeff’s number, another single agent who might be free for a game of tennis.

  About an hour later, he paced at the fitness club waiting for Jeff, who was notorious for being late. Travis glanced at his watch. Okay, so he had a tendency to be early.

  “Hey, thanks for the phone call. You saved my ass.” Jeff smacked Travis on the back as he strolled in the club. “Women. Nothing you do is ever the right thing.”

  Travis cracked his neck. “I suppose.”

  “Not sure what I was drinking last night, but I brought home a dog, a stray dog who won’t leave. That is, until you called.”

  Travis stretched, trying to ignore Jeff.

  “How’s the skirt?”

  Travis wished he had decided on weightlifting, by himself. “Agent Morgan’s very intelligent. She’ll make a fine agent.” He bounced the ball, taking a nice easy swing.

  “Intelligent? Man, what about that body? How’d you luck out?” Jeff increased the speed of the ball, like it was nothing.

  Travis swung, gently, keeping the pace of the warm-up slow and ignoring Jeff’s statement. You didn’t need a good set of eyes to notice Shauna was a knockout.

  “You think you’ll make two years without making a pass at her?” Jeff practiced his serve.

  One that was always tough to return.

  “She’s my partner. Just another agent doing her job.” He swung harder, determined to get Jeff to shut up. He understood how important it was for a woman to been seen as an agent first, woman last.

  “Yeah, I’ll bet she can do a job.”

  Travis wound up and aimed for Jeff’s crotch. The yellow ball barely missed its mark.

  “Hey, watch it,” Jeff barked.

  “Say something like that again and I’ll do worse.” Travis bounced the ball and hit it back to Jeff, nice and easy.

  “Touchy,” Jeff muttered. “Let’s get the show on the road.”

  Travis played a decent game, but he still lost. And his mood soured even more. Jeff wasn’t any different than other jerk males who just wanted to look at a pretty woman and take advantage of her. But hadn’t he done that with Shauna? He kept trying to tell himself that he was different. Well, he was. He did respect her, certainly valued her as a fellow agent. But he couldn’t ignore her
as a woman either.

  “Thanks again, that was fun.” Jeff stretched out his arm. “Wanna go get a beer?”

  “No thanks. I’ve got some research to do.”

  “You still working on those rape cases?”

  “A few.” Travis hadn’t kept his extracurricular activities to himself, but he didn’t advertise them either. It tended to get him in trouble. But Jeff once caught him copying shit he shouldn’t be. Jeff had seemed genuinely interested in his research and even helped him out a few times.

  “Do you ever think that maybe the girls go willingly in some of these cases?”

  “Nothing willing about rape,” Travis said.

  “Oh, come on. Some of these girls prance around half naked, almost begging for it.”

  “You’re an asshole.” Travis slammed the locker.

  “I’m just saying that in today’s world, any girl who hangs out in bus terminals, train stations, or the freaking drug store for that matter with her belly showing and her boobs bouncing has to know that men are going to notice, especially the bad guys.”

  Travis clenched his fist. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “Simple, don’t let your daughters dress like streetwalkers and parade around with the attitude like they’re good and ready.”

  “You don’t have a clue.” Travis shoved Jeff to the side.

  “Hey, look. I’m not condoning rape, okay? All I’m saying is that girls hear this shit all day long and they still go off with these guys. I can’t help but wonder how many of them are crying rape.”

  Travis blinked, forcing his fists apart. “I’m going pretend you didn’t just say that.” Travis slammed the locker room door, and in a few quick strides, he was outside heading for his truck. Travis knew his sister hadn’t paraded around asking to be raped and killed.

  Chapter Six

  Shauna lifted the mascara wand to her lashes with a shaking hand. The loneliness she endured on Sunday hadn’t diminished by Monday morning. “Damn it.” She grabbed a tissue and rubbed the blackness from her face, then pumped her fist and forced her hand to relax.

  Sunday had been spent doing what she’d always done. Her routine had consisted of a good workout, a hot cup of coffee while reading the paper, and then a long search on the Internet. But while on the computer looking for any kind of clue that could lead her to her attacker, she realized just how pathetic her life had become.

  She tossed her eyeliner into her cosmetic bag. Grabbing her purse, she headed out to her car in a huff.

  Her heart raced, just as it did at five thirty when she knew Travis would be at her door for their morning jog. He and his family had dulled her feelings of isolation for a short period of time. Until this past weekend, she hadn’t known how lonely she’d been.

  The sun shone strong in the dark blue morning sky as the birds chirped in the cool spring air. She dug deep in her purse, eyes on nothing but her fingers searching for her keys.

  Someone grabbed her arm.

  Instinctively, she reached for her weapon and prepared to defend herself.

  “Relax.” She heard Travis’s smooth voice. It sent warm shivers down her spine.

  “You scared me.”

  “Sorry.” He guided her across the street to where his truck was parked. “Get in. We got another one.”

  The blood in her body froze. “What do you mean?”

  “Hotel downtown. Fifteen year-old. Missing two days.” He opened the door for her and touched her arm. “There’s a note.”

  “That’s new.” She coughed, unable to concentrate on anything other than the pounding of her heart against her chest.

  Moments later, she followed Travis into the despicable old hotel. Streetwalkers paced the hallways, yelling at the police that they were being harassed. The air was thick and stuffy with the pungent stench of five-day-old whiskey breath and rotten eggs.

  “Here.” He handed her a pair of latex gloves. Snapping them in place, she prayed her breakfast would stay in her stomach.

  Travis turned and looked over his shoulder. “You ready?”

  She nodded and held her stomach. This could still be her fate, if she didn’t watch her back. A strong sensation of someone being behind her made her body stiffen and jerk, but she resisted the urge to glance over shoulder.

  She could still hear the killer’s words echoing in her ears. He told her that after death he would take care of her. Make sure that God was willing to accept her because she hadn’t sinned.

  Hugging herself as her stomach hit her throat, she swallowed. She could taste the bile burning her esophagus.

  “Glad you could make it,” a familiar voice said.

  “Can’t say I’m thrilled. Hutchensen, you remember my new partner?”

  “Sure do.”

  “Good to see you again.” She stood still and scanned the room as her eyes watered from the rancid stench. Her head spun and spots flickered about in front of her eyes. She tried to remove herself as best she could as her gaze followed Travis. He looked everywhere but at the body and talked to no one. Then he moved to the foot of the bed.

  A faint gasp escaped her mouth. The body laid face up, eyes closed, and the smell of antiseptic filtering through Shauna’s nose couldn’t douse the aroma of death.

  Nothing could kill that scent. It was a smell that lingered with you, stuck to you like a bad cigar. Her skin prickled as she felt death cling to her body, almost like it was trying to take her.

  A dress lay neatly next to the victim and a crown had been placed by her head. Small drops of blood dotted her stomach where a note had been tacked to her skin with a large safety pin.

  “We’d like to believe it’s the same guy, but the note’s new,” Hutchensen announced.

  “Holy shit,” Travis muttered. “Shauna, get over here.” He motioned to her without looking up.

  Swallowing hard, legs numb, she stumbled and stood behind Travis, bracing herself with a hand on his strong shoulder. She leaned over him and read the note out loud. “I’m right in front of you, behind you, next to you. I know who you are. Catch me if you can.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” someone said, from behind her.

  “It means we have a comedian on our hands,” another officer barked. “Let’s get this bagged and tagged and get on with the business of finding this psycho.”

  Hours later, the horror of the day lingered. She and Travis had spent the remainder of daylight going over information with the Albany, State, and Troy Police Departments. They had more paperwork than they knew what to do with, but there was good news. They now had three cases that were believed to be the same guy. Enough to give this guy a name. He would be known as the Princess Killer.

  Shauna didn’t like the name much, but she knew it was the same guy who’d raped her. And now she had the opportunity to nail him. Hopefully, she looked different enough that he wouldn’t be able to tell who she was. Eventually, she would have to tell Travis, but not yet. She needed more time to remember.

  Digging into her purse for her key, she became keenly aware that something wasn’t right. She glanced over her shoulder and then down the hall. With her eyes locked on her opened door, she took out her weapon and held it to her side as she crept down the hallway.

  She grabbed her phone and hit speed dial.

  “Brown here.”

  “Someone broke into my room,” she whispered. “I’m in the hallway; the door’s open.”

  “Go back down to the lobby and wait for me. I’m on my way.” The phone went dead.

  Quietly, she moved down the hallway, again with her back to the wall. While she felt confident in her abilities as an agent, going it alone would be a classic rookie mistake. One she wasn’t willing to take when her life was on the line. She tucked her gun in her purse and waited by the door for Travis.

  Jumping from his truck, he jogged into the

  lobby and took her by the arm. “You see anything else?”

  She shook her head. “Just that my door
was open. No maids or construction workers in sight.” She pulled out her weapon and followed him down the hall.

  He turned and motioned to her, then pushed the door open.

  She backed him up as he moved about the room, opening closets and heading into the bedroom and bathroom.

  “Is anything missing?” he asked as he holstered his gun.

  “Looks like whoever it was looking for something…specific.” She took a good look around at her clothes that lay strewed about the floor. “My journal?” Pieces of ripped paper were scattered at her feet. She opened the nightstand.

  Oh, my, God.

  The journal felt heavy in her trembling hands. Fear paralyzing her ability to think. She sat back into the bed. The mattress squeaked and jerked as he sat down next to her and put a comforting arm around her. She took deep breaths as she flipped through the pages. How could the killer know?

  “What’s missing?”

  “Random pages.” She jumped from the bed. “Oh crap.”

  “What?”

  “I have more journals.” She dropped to her knees in front of the closet and pulled out the box she kept them in. She sucked in nothing, she couldn’t breathe.

  The box was empty.

  “He knows,” she whispered. “He knows,” she repeated, trying to hide the sense of defeat she felt deep in her heart.

  ****

  Travis knelt down beside her. This was beyond his comprehension. He didn’t know how to deal with it, and he sure as hell couldn’t explain it. Somehow the killer just upped the ante, making this even more personal.

  “What does he know?”

  Soft sobs fell from her lips. “He’s close,” she whispered.

  “Shauna.” He took her by the shoulders and shook her. “What does he know?”

  Abruptly, she stood and started to pace.

  “Come on. What’s going on inside that head of yours?”

  She stopped and glared at him. “He has my personal thoughts about who I think he might be. My profile of him. How I’ve gone about looking for him most of my life.”

  “Whoa, there. Hold up. Rewind that.” He cracked his neck. “Most of your life? As in years?”