Page 33 of Chilled
“Deal. Then I’ll insist on full disclosure.”
Despite only three hours of sleep and being knocked on her butt both mentally and physically all in one day, Brenna’s feet felt lighter as she walked to her vehicle. Perhaps she was dizzy from low blood sugar. Or maybe it was because Nick Tarver was teasing her.
God forbid she should make the mistake of falling for a man like Nick.
Rain started fallingby the time they got back to the hotel room. When she pushed through the suite door, Brenna wasn't so upset about Nick sharing the set of rooms as she had been at first. With the death of Dr. Drummond and the subsequent office burning, she was glad she wasn't alone. Whoever was doing this thought he was smarter than the best North Dakota and the FBI had to offer.
That he'd felt the need to torch the doctor's office was an indication he might be getting nervous. But they were one up on him. They had the backup file.
While Nick set the food on the table, Brenna pulled out her laptop and plugged it into the wall.
The scent of spicy chicken wings wafted across the little table in the sitting area. Her stomach rumbled in response. "Wow, that really smells good." She set the laptop on the table and reached into the bag for a messy wing. "You want to pop that flash drive in?" she said, licking her fingers.
"Sure." He did as she asked, then keyed in the password when prompted. "We’re in."
Brenna breathed a sigh and leaned over his shoulder. "Bring up the list of patients."
He clicked on a file named Patient Info and a list of names appeared. "Recognize anyone?"
She ran her finger down the screen and stopped. "That one."
Nick leaned close and read aloud, "Greeley, Victor?" He glanced up at her. "You know him?"
"Yeah, he was the guy we ran into at the bar a few minutes ago." She sat in the chair beside him and took off her wet tennis shoes and socks. "He's a jerk, and a real slimy character, but I'd never peg him as a murderer."
"We’ve got to look at all angles. I'm sure nobody pegged the BTK killer as a murderer either."
"And we let him go." Brenna popped up from her seat, pacing barefoot across the carpet. "We need to find him. If he's the killer, he might strike again. Tonight."
Nick notedhow Brenna twisted the hem of her sweat jacket and the way she paced. She was nervous, and he wanted to know why. "How do you know him?”
Brenna’s face reddened, and she turned away.
Interesting. For a moment, he thought she wouldn’t answer. When Nick had the next question poised on his lips, Brenna turned and faced him.
“We had an affair a couple of years ago.”
The announcement hit him in the gut. Not that Brenna was any more than a stranger to him. They’d met less than twenty-four hours ago. Not enough time to form an attachment. And Nick wasn’t one to believe in love at first sight. Now, lust was an entirely different matter.
Seeing Victor Greeley straddling Brenna in the bar had been another blow to Nick’s control, but he accounted for his reaction as what he’d do if he found any woman being overpowered by a man. Another thought occurred and made a cold lump form in his gut. “You said something about telling his wife. Is the guy married now?”
“Yeah—and he was married then.”
Nick pushed back from the laptop and stood so fast the chair fell over backward. Without stopping to set it straight, he strode to the window, pictures of another time playing through his memory like slow-motion film. He’d arrived home early to surprise his wife, Trish, with the news he’d gotten the job with the FBI. He could still picture himself hurrying through the house to find her and the look on her face when he had.
“Nick?” Trish had called his name. “Nick?”
Only it wasn’t Trish calling him now.
He shook his head to pull his mind out of that bedroom where he’d found Trish with a man he’d once trusted. A fellow cop, partner and friend—until he’d climbed into Nick’s bed and between his wife’s legs.
“Agent Tarver?” Brenna stood across the room, her arms crossed over her chest, her lips pressed in a hard line. “I’m sorry if that disappoints you. But I can assure you my shortcomings in my personal life don’t interfere with my job.”
“Huh?”
Color spread from her cheeks to the tips of her ears. “The jerk failed to fill me in on all the little details. I don’t normally sleep with married men.” Her chin tilted at a defiant angle, and she straightened her shoulders as if preparing for his censure.
Nick pushed his hands through his hair and looked at her. Really looked at her. “I believe you.”
