Page 6 of Murder in Calusa Cove
“I know, but I don’t think doing that here is a good idea.” It had been nearly thirteen years since her sister had been murdered, and the guilt over that night had never eased. It ate at Chloe like a python suffocating its prey. She’d reviewed every detail a million times, and each time, she’d come up with a dozen or so things she could have done differently that might have saved her sister’s life.
“I understand why you’ve kept that hidden from many people you’ve worked with, and most won’t make the jump because you changed your name.” Buddy reached across the cab of the SUV and took her hand.
She chuckled. “People do that when they get married.”
He lowered his chin. “You were married for all of five minutes. I’m surprised you even had the time to make it to the DMV to file the paperwork.”
“I was married for two years.” She’d married Nick at the worst time in her life. She’d met him in a bar when she’d been in law school, married him three weeks later, and while he was a kind and decent man, he hadn’t wanted to be tied to a woman who’d built her life around being an FBI agent with a side agenda—even if they had loved each other.
He’d walked out on her a year and a half into their marriage, and she hadn’t even tried to stop him.
End of story—even if he did check in on her once a year for a proof of life thing. She appreciated that about Nick.
“I take it Hayes doesn’t know you were previously married, either.” Buddy lowered his chin.
“Why would that matter?”
“Because you’ve been sleeping with the man for the last couple of months, and don’t try to deny it. I know when you’ve taken a bed partner…you become somewhat softer…and it’s nice for a bit.”
“I don’t even know how to respond to that.” She narrowed her stare. “And no, Hayes doesn’t know.”
“Does he know anything about your life?”
“Who are you? My father?”
Buddy sighed. “Just someone who actually cares about you and who’s been watching you have no life for the last eight or so years because you’re more obsessed with this killer than I am, and trust me, for the last two years, it’s all I think about. I want to catch this guy so bad I can taste it. I want to do it for every victim and their families. I loathe this asshole. The fact that he’s been doing it and getting away with it for so long makes me crazy. He’s methodical and patient, and I know there are more victims we have no idea about.” He tapped his index finger on her knee. “Those missing person case files of all the young women whose boyfriends or spouses admitted they were cheating on them—prove that to me.”
She nodded. “We only know of seven spanning thirty-four years, and that includes my sister.”
“I take it that it’s safe to assume you’ve dug right back into the missing person’s database looking for more?”
“I’m looking for connections, as usual.”
“Good. I want to see anything that remotely fits the profile.” He lifted his chin. “Tell them because it will come out whether you tell them, or someone like that reporter over there figures out your sister is one of the victims, because we’re not going to be able to keep it under wraps forever. Now, we’d better get moving. The rest of the team rolled in, and if you want to be the one to tell them about your dirty little secret, you better high-tail it over there.” He reached for the door handle.
“Buddy?”
“What?” He turned.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t make me regret this.” He slipped from the vehicle.
She did the same. Her heart beat so fast she thought it might explode. She stuffed her hands in her pockets and took strides across the pavement, quickly glancing over her shoulder. Buddy was already waving his hands and giving out orders.
Buddy was damn good at his job. It had only been a few years since they had connected all the cases and made it official… The deaths were the work of The Ring Finger Killer. It was odd that they’d given this guy a name. That honor usually went to the media. However, the press didn’t even know this murderer existed, and the team had needed a way to make the killer real. Not to humanize him—but more to categorize him—and that’s what they’d landed on.
They had only been able to link the seven murders together because of Chloe and all the things she’d found. At least Buddy gave her the credit for that, even if he couldn’t do it out loud. If he had, they both would have been fired on the spot.
“Hey.” Hayes smiled. God, he had the best smile. It was a little lopsided, and sometimes, it looked more like a funny smirk, but his sweet eyes always added that special bonus. Breaking up with him had been difficult—more difficult than any other man she’d been with—and she’d known it would be because she’d questioned getting involved with him from the beginning. Being connected to another human wasn’t something she was very good at, and it was what had broken up her marriage.
Nick had loved her, and she believed that. In some ways, she still loved him—or maybe the idea of him. He’d never judged her or her decision to be an FBI agent. That hadn’t been the problem. It hadn’t even been the need to find her sister’s killer because he’d understood. But it was the coldness that had seeped into her personality. The hardness that had taken over her heart had destroyed any chance of her marriage surviving.
She couldn’t regret either marrying Nick or divorcing him.
“Not to jump right in, but might as well,” Dawson said. “Do you want to go see where the body is? There’s something interesting there that I’m not sure we’ve ever discussed before, besides the body being staged, which doesn’t seem to fit your killer.”
She wanted those details in the worst way, but she’d promised Buddy she’d play by his rules, and that meant he’d been the one feeding her intel. She couldn’t allow Dawson to keep believing she was the lead or even that she was working the case. “I need to speak with you and Hayes about that—alone.” She glanced at Keaton and Fletcher. “Sorry, guys.”
