"Once we have proof you did it, you'll pay." The voice snarled in her ear. "With your life. Got that?"
"Proof I did what?" Amanda Riley leaned back in her chair, keeping her voice calm, pleasant even. She didn't want the caller, whoever he was, to realize he'd rattled her.
"You know." Heavy breaths. "And you'd better start planning for your funeral." Click. Then silence.
Replacing the receiver, Amanda doodled on the notepad in front of her. Another prank call. Third one this month, too. And for the life of her she couldn't figure out which bust had pissed the guy off.
"Hey, Riley, got a minute?"
Amanda sighed. The question was rhetorical. The man asking, Lieutenant Gordon, or Gordy, was her boss. And, since they were both members of the brand-new task force investigating their very own Fort Worth serial killer, of course she had a minute. She had all day, if he wanted it.
"Sure." She blinked, tearing her gaze away from the incredibly detailed coroner's report on the victims. It took two seconds before she noticed Gordy had someone with him. A tall man, not in uniform.
Hastily, she pushed her chair back, scraping the floor with a loud, nails-on-chalkboard sound, making her wince. "Here or in the conference room?"
Gordy flashed a smile, which scared her. It was his shark smile. He never used that smile on her, only on the rookies or the perps. A shiver ran up her back. Who the hell was the guy with him? She stood on the tips of her toes and tried to see around Gordy's bulk.
"Nah, here will be fine." He pushed his way into her tiny cubicle. Since making detective, she'd been granted this one small slice of privacy. It might not seem like much, but compared to the crowded squad room it was nirvana.
The other man followed him. Amanda stared. Normally, she wasn't much for being overwhelmed by a guy's looks, but this guy was something else. Tall, dark and handsome didn't begin to describe him. Though he looked positively dangerous in his black leather jacket and faded jeans, everything else about him screamed "law enforcement."
"Detective Amanda Riley, this is Agent Nick Templeton. FBI Agent Nick Templeton."
The name struck her like a ball-peen hammer between the eyes. "Templeton," she breathed. Templeton had been her former boyfriend Jason's last name. His obituary had just run in the paper yesterday. FBI?
Not caring that staring might be rude, Amanda stuck her hand out. She braced herself when his larger one gripped hers. But he played nice, unlike most other large men she'd met, his handshake firm but not painful. As he slid his hand free, she noticed he had long, elegant fingers. Her mouth went dry. She'd always been a sucker for a man with sensual hands. Like Jason.
They'd tried to kick her off the task force when her former boyfriend had become one of the serial killer victims. "Jason's last name was Templeton." Amanda heard her voice, noted the harsh tone, all without being conscious of even speaking. "You must be related. I'm very sorry."
His cool gaze gave nothing away. "We were cousins." Gordy touched her shoulder. "You okay?"
From habit she nodded. All Gordy needed was one tiny excuse and she would be put on R&R. Though Jason and she had broken up a month earlier, his murder had hit Amanda hard. She'd even had to wonder if it had been directed at her for some reason, like the serial killer was now taunting the task force.
Amanda straightened her back. This was her job. Her grief was private. Even if this guy was Jason's cousin. And a federal agent.
"Agent Templeton is here about the murders." Gordy spoke without inflection. His best political, talking-tothe-chief voice. "I've assigned him to you. Fill him in, show him around. He's here for the duration."
Amanda couldn't help it; she let her mouth fall open. "Say that again?"
The look Gordy shot her told her he didn't like it any better than she did. No one liked the feds messing with their investigations. "He's now part of the task force."
"One agent? That's all they sent?"
Gordy shook his head in warning. "Yeah." Closing her mouth, Amanda forced a smile. She knew that tone. It would be pointless to argue, so she didn't. "Great," she said, not bothering with false enthusiasm. The guy would have to be stupid not to figure out he wasn't wanted. Wait till the other guys on the task force got wind of this. This Nick Templeton was dead meat.
The fed looked at her and Amanda saw two things. One, he realized this and two, he didn't care.
"I'd like to talk to you about Jason." Though the accent was similar, his voice was deeper than Jason's, more raspy. "And I wasn't sent by anyone. We're working too hard on terrorism to spare anyone for a couple of murders in cowtown. I asked to come."
Amanda sat back down and steepled her hands in front of her. From deep inside she pulled out a composure she didn't yet feel. The wound still cut too deep.
"Jason wasn't the first victim." Again, she swallowed. "But I expect you know that."
He indicated the manila file, still open in front of her. "Case file?"
"One of them."
"Mind if I see it?"
One glance at Gordy told her what she needed to know. Share the file. In case she didn't understand, Gordy put it in words. "He's to have full access to all resources."
Fine. Without another word, Amanda slid the file across the desk. He stopped it with one finger, his intent gaze never wavering from her face.
Gordy cleared his throat. "I'll leave you two to it then." Lifting his hand in a wave, he took off. Coward. Not that Amanda blamed him. Most everyone on the task force would avoid Agent Nick Templeton like the plague. And now her, too. Since he was her new partner, she'd be tainted by association.
"So you and my cousin were engaged?"
For the second time in ten minutes, her mouth fell open. "That's news to me," she managed. "Jason and I never talked about marriage." Her heart thudded in her chest, like every beat was a major effort. Suddenly, inexplicably, she wanted to lay her head down on the desk and cry.
Instead, she set her jaw and told herself she would not. She'd fought hard to stay on the task force. She wanted to bring Jason's killer to justice.
His hard expression softened. "You cared about him." He made his question a statement.
She nodded. "Yes."
"Yet you personally covered his crime scene."
"I'm still on the task force." She couldn't keep the bitterness from her voice. "They didn't know who he was. I cover all these particular crime scenes." By particular, she meant victims, potential or otherwise, of this serial killer. Jason had been number four. And they still had no idea who was responsible, or why.
Without another word, he opened the folder and began to read.
Continues...
Excerpted from Beyond The Dark by Jones, Linda Winstead/Vaughn, Evelyn/Whiddon, Karen Copyright © 2005 by Jones, Linda Winstead/Vaughn, Evelyn/Whiddon, Karen. Excerpted by permission.
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