Sidetracked (Mindf*ck Series Book 2) Read online

  “Which is why I’m here,” Logan adds, looking down at me with a grimace.

  “No,” I say adamantly. “I don’t want anyone in the house. Unless you’re volunteering.”

  “Show some gratitude,” the girl chimes in, earning a glower from Logan. “These cops are here for your protection. Having someone in bed down the hall would be safer, and they’re going out of their way to provide that.”

  I really don’t like her. Can I cut her? Just a little?

  “Lisa, go sit in the car if you can’t shut your mouth,” Logan tells her, a bite to his tone that I haven’t heard before.

  She glares at him, and I slowly put the pieces together. Bitterness. Lots of bitterness in her look.

  It’s not hard to recognize a woman scorned.

  Logan talks to her like he would an ex he was frustrated with, not a normal co-worker.

  I really don’t like this situation right now.

  And I might actually cut her. More than a little.

  She drops to a chair instead of leaving, much to my disappointment, and Logan takes my hand, pulling me down the hallway to my bedroom. As soon as he shuts the door, I turn to face him, trying not to go all jealous crazy girl on him.

  “You never mentioned you dated someone from your team,” I say calmly, like a total rational girl and not a cutting psycho.

  “It was over a year ago, and completely unimportant.”

  “She’s jealous.”

  His eyes spark with humor.

  “So are you. Glad to see I’m not the only one losing my mind in this relationship.”

  His lips twitch, and I stifle my own stupid grin that tries to form in response. He can do that; dissolve my anger with barely any effort at all.

  No one else has ever been able to accomplish that.

  I toss my arms around the back of his neck, and he wraps his arms around my waist.

  “Let someone sleep inside the house. I’d feel better knowing I had every angle covered. I’m going to be sleeping in my office for a few hours at a time at most. This case is priority above all else right now to my department, but you’re my priority.”

  “No,” I say simply. No way am I risking a cop getting nosy in my house. “I don’t feel comfortable with a random stranger sleeping in my house. A badge doesn’t make him noble.”

  His smile falters, and he cocks his head, confused.

  “What?” I prompt.

  “Nothing. It’s just…one time I made a mental note that you seemed trusting of me because I had a badge. I profiled you as not having an issue with law enforcement, meaning you’d never had any bad experiences with them.”

  “And now I’m throwing you off?” I muse, then smile, trying to mask the flurry of emotions I don’t want him to accidentally see. “One day, I’ll tell you all there is about me. But no. I don’t trust men because they have a badge. Where I grew up, badges just meant people got away with more. It was a corrupt town.”

  He brushes his hand over my cheek, and I lean into it, hating that I’ve said too much about my life as Victoria instead of Lana or Kennedy.

  “Sorry. I’ll try to get some free time to come sleep here for an hour or two with you. Maybe you can tell me some of those past experiences soon.”

  I shake my head, gripping his wrists. “Do your job. I’m a big girl. I stopped being scared of the Boogeyman by age five.” I smile to lighten the morbid joke, but he frowns.

  “This is serious, Lana. If he got his hands on you—”

  “I’ve had self-defense training. I have two guns. I also plan to run out the back door instead of up the stairs. We’re good. I can handle this.”

  “If he gets his hands on you, there’s nothing you’ll be able to do.”

  I can tell he’s getting nauseated just thinking of such an outcome. Little does he know…

  “Okay,” I say, just to appease him. “Someone can stay inside. Someone you trust. I’m sure you’re friends with the local PD.”

  The relief that washes over his face makes it worth all the million and one things that can go wrong. He genuinely cares about me. He’s terrified for me right now because a merciless killer might be after me.

  The irony isn’t lost on me.

  “Not friends, but I know several reputable guys who are definitely trustworthy,” he says on a quiet breath. “I’d never leave anyone inside I didn’t feel I could trust.”

  I don’t tell him I’d just castrate them and nail their dicks to the wall if they tried anything. Instead, I let him feel as though I’m weak and need protection. Because right now, that’s how he needs to feel.

  The truth is just too dark to overcome.

  And I wonder what will happen if the truth ever comes to light.

  He kisses me, tugging me to his body as he melts away all the concerns lingering in the back of my mind. For now, this is worth losing it all. It’s almost worth losing my revenge.

  But the revenge isn’t just for me. Souls beyond the grave beg for a reckoning as well. Those souls need their peace.

  It’s too soon when Logan pulls away, and I hold back the frustrated groan. “Be safe. I’ll be in and out as I can. I’ll need to see you with my own eyes to believe you’re really safe.”

  “I won’t object to seeing you, but do your job. Don’t let him hurt someone else because you’re so focused on me. That’s what he wants.”

  He thumbs my lower lip, staring at it for a moment. “Have I told you today that you’re perfect?”

  I smile against his touch, even though it feels weighted. Perfection. He thinks I’m perfect. It’s so far from the truth, but I’ve told him that before.

  “That girl?” I ask, deciding to get some answers before he leaves.

  His grin only grows. “We dated a few months. She wanted a commitment. I was married to the job. She transferred to my department, and I broke things off with her because it’s against the rules to date within the department.”

  That has me stiffening. Sheesh. When did I turn into a girl?

  “But you’d still be together if she hadn’t transferred?”

  Even I hear how pathetically clingy I sound.

  But Logan, the bastard, grins broader. “No. It was just the easiest way to get the point across that it was over. You’re the first woman to make me wish I could skip work, Lana. You make me question my priorities and if it’s all really worth it.”

  My stomach flutters with excitement.

  “You know it’s worth it. You stop killers. You’re a hero.”

  His smile slips, and he clears his throat. “I don’t always stop them in time. It seems like two spring up every time we take one down. And now this is happening. I put you at risk because of my job. Your life is sure as hell not worth it.”

  I pull him down and kiss him again, and he grips me tightly, tugging me even closer. He lifts me with two hands on my ass, and I land on top of my dresser as he steps between my legs, still devouring my mouth.

  When I moan, he swallows the sound, and then someone bangs on the door.

  “We need to roll if we’re going to meet Elise and Leonard to deliver the adjustments to the profile!” the girl harps.

  Definitely cutting her.

  Logan doesn’t break the kiss. If anything, he kisses me harder, as though he’s assuring me she doesn’t matter as much as I do. As though nothing matters as much as I do.

  It’s me who finally breaks the kiss, and his forehead rests against mine as we both take steadying breaths.

  “Be careful,” I tell him softly. “Don’t worry about me. And you do make a difference.”

  He groans before brushing his lips against mine again, and he tugs me off the dresser, threading our fingers together. The profiler ex is waiting in my living room when we rejoin them.

  “Call Chief Harris and tell him to send one of the guys off my list,” Logan says to the guy profiler, as though he was just waiting for my permission.

  The chick just watches us before finally turning and walking out
. Logan runs his fingers along my cheek one more time before kissing me quickly and following them out.

  The girl gets in the back of the SUV, and the guy gets in the front seat next to Logan, who takes the driver’s side. Not surprising. I’ve noticed he’s sort of a control freak. Not that I mind.

  As he backs out, he honks the horn twice, and a stupid grin lights up my face. I remember my neighbor always honking as he pulled out, as though it was one last temporary goodbye to his wife.

  Annnnd I’m back to being two steps away from that name tattoo on my ass.

  After shutting the door, I groan, realizing I never asked him about his relationship with Hadley. Damn women. How many of them should I have to deal with?

  I jog upstairs, head into my secret room, and touch the apple on my desk. It’s a wax apple, brilliantly red, and there are seven nails sticking out of it. Still many more to go.

  Glancing around, I question how stupid it is to leave a murder room inside a house with a cop. Logan respects my privacy and would never snoop. But this guy? I don’t know anything about the guy coming to stay in here.

  I really hope that hidden door stays hidden. I also hope the metal door with a combination lock is enough to keep a nosy cop out if the door doesn’t stay hidden.

  Chapter 4

  Without feelings of respect, what is there to distinguish men from beasts?

  —Confucius

  LOGAN

  “He’s been quiet for two days,” Elise says, still studying the latest reports from the forensics found.

  “He’s being cautious. He wants attention, but he doesn’t want me to win, and especially not before he reaches his endgame.”

  “What’s his endgame?”

  “Lana,” I say, gripping my pen tightly.

  “We don’t know that,” Lisa argues.

  I ignore her. She’s acting like a jealous girlfriend, after having not acted that way in over a year. I’m not sure what her issue is all of the sudden, but it’s petty and pointless, especially now of all times.

  “We have a problem,” Donny says, taking brisk steps on his way to my desk.

  “We have a board full of problems,” I remind him, gesturing to all the unsolved cases.

  “Two guys from Delaney Grove are missing.”

  My skin prickles, and I sit up straighter. “Is it just a coincidence? The unsub has been killing them in their homes.”

  “He’s also been targeting single males who live in seclusion. Lawrence Martin lives with a roommate, and is a twenty-nine-year-old ad executive from New York. He went missing sometime in the past ten or eleven days.”

  “Holy shit,” Elise says. “All of them have been found no later than four days. It has to be a coincidence, especially since he doesn’t fit all of the victimology.”

  “Too coincidental,” I tell her, then focus on Donny. “Why didn’t the roommate report him missing sooner?”

  “He wasn’t sure if Lawrence had hooked up with a girl, or if he was staying at the office. I also got the impression he didn’t really care, but rent is due, and he said Lawrence is always there to hand over his half. He never showed up yesterday, he’s been missing at work, and no one has seen him.”

  “And the other?” Elise prompts.

  “Tyler Shane,” Donny answers. “Twenty-seven-year-old tech analyst from West Virginia. Moved there from Delaney Grove straight out of high school. His girlfriend just reported him missing today.”

  “So he has a girlfriend?” I ask, confused. “Our unsub has been targeting single males only.”

  “He also has a wife,” Donny says, his eyebrows raising. “Apparently she got pictures and screenshots of messages between Tyler and a Denise Watkins—the girlfriend—from an anonymous tipster. She left that day and hasn’t been back. She didn’t even know he was missing, and I don’t think she cares.”

  “Any chance she’s responsible for him missing?” Lisa asks, glaring daggers through me. “After all, crimes of passion are more likely than a serial kill.”

  Everyone looks between us, as though they’re asking questions, but I have no clue what her problem is.

  “She’s been in L.A. since she left,” Donny says, clearing his throat as he gets back on point. “Her work requires a lot of travel, and she just decided to stay gone this last time and take a couple of days to herself. Across the country is a damn good alibi.”

  “Check it out,” I tell him. “Make sure she’s legit. Check into Lawrence Martin’s financials too. See if he made any large withdrawals. Same for Tyler Shane. Also check into the roommate and girlfriend. Our guy hasn’t been taking them from their homes, and has only been targeting single, solitary men.”

  “And if it is our guy?” Leonard asks, joining us.

  “Then we’ll need to revisit the profile and finally deliver the story to the media. A sexual sadist was a stretch to begin with. If these two are linked to our unsub, then he’s not a sexual sadist. He’s just a sadist. Look into anyone who might have tortured animals.”

  I grab my notebook, scratching down some notes. “There were never any hesitation marks,” I say quietly, studying photos of the first victim. “This guy is comfortable around death and killing. No patterns of rage have been found. He’s only targeting people who have left town.”

  “Which means he could have killed before,” Lisa adds.

  “Hence the tortured animals bit,” I say, shifting the photos around on my desk. “He may be bitter these people left that town and have successful lives. We’ll deliver the profile to the media if we find the bodies.”

  They all nod, and I pick up my phone, dialing Lana. She answers almost immediately.

  “Hey, you, how’s the hunt?” she asks, sounding breathy and happy.

  “Quiet right now. Hadley is running some of the forensics in an effort to see if we can get ahead of him. Why do you sound out of breath?”

  “I’m on the phone. I’ll be right back,” she calls out to someone. “Sorry,” she says into the phone. “I was working out with Duke. He’s showing me some moves.”

  My eyebrows hit my hairline as I stand up.

  “Duke?”

  “Detective John Duke. He just showed up today to start bunking with me. He said everyone just calls him Duke. He’s the guy you assigned to my house, remember?”

  No. No I don’t remember. It was supposed to be Marley St. James, an older guy who is on the verge of a promotion. He’s been there since the day I had to leave. Why did they pull him?

  John Duke…I’ve never heard of him.

  “What happened to Marley?” I ask distractedly.

  “He had something come up, I guess. I didn’t pry for details. We never really spoke. He mostly kept to himself while he was here.”

  I quickly lean over my chair, remaining standing, and type the new name into the computer as Lana continues. John Duke’s picture flashes across my screen, and I almost drop my phone.

  Motherfucker.

  Twenty-eight. Fit. Single. Ambitious. Newly promoted to homicide detective—a coveted spot. Definitely not ugly—can’t believe I’m admitting that.

  And he’s in my girlfriend’s house. Sleeping there. Staying with her while I’m here. Alone together.

  I’m going to kill someone for fucking this all up.

  “Logan?” Lana prompts, sounding worried. “You okay?”

  “Just curious how a homicide detective has time to come babysit,” I say casually, grabbing my bag from the floor and heading toward the door. I’m due a few hours of sleep, and I know where I want to take those few hours.

  “Um…he said his boss dude told him to come here. The department is taking this threat seriously. Duke is who they thought would be best to surprise Plemmons if or when he shows up.”

  Throwing a tantrum is not on my agenda. The local PD want to make the arrest, and are using this as a way to get a leg up on us, since we’re outsourcing her protective detail to them. Since I’m outsourcing her protective detail to them.

&nbs
p; I’ll deal with Duke when I get there.

  “I don’t know him, Lana. They apparently sent in someone they want to take credit for any arrests.”

  “Kind of figured as much,” she says quietly, but there’s a mocking lilt to her tone.

  “Why’s that?” I ask, getting into my SUV.

  “Because there’s no way you’d send that guy to come stay in my house while you’re gone.”

  I snort derisively, then relax when she laughs.

  “Don’t worry, Agent Bennett. I normally don’t play with boys who wear badges. You’re my only exception.”

  Then there’s that. I’m still confused about that. No criminal record means no run-ins with police. Unless there’s a sealed juvie record, but nothing popped when Hadley ran her name through the system.

  “Keep me awake while I drive,” I tell her, not commenting on any of the other.

  “You want me to tell you about how I broke my vibrator this morning?”

  I swerve the car, cursing as a horn blares.

  “Logan? You okay?” she asks, sounding genuinely concerned.

  “Yeah,” I grumble. “Fine. How’d you break your vibrator?”

  This girl… I swear she gets off on surprising me. Every time I think I have her figured out, she throws me another curve ball.

  She laughs lightly. “Well, I pulled it out of my drawer, peeled my panties off on my bed, and when I slid it down my body, building up the anticipation as it buzzed…it slipped out of my hand, hit a crease in the bed, and crashed against the floor. The fun part broke off.”

  Laughter escapes me before I can stop it, and I feel her smile.

  “What if I told you your vibrator could retire for the night?”

  “I’d say duh. Because it’s worthless now.”

  “I meant, I’m coming there,” I say, still partially laughing under my breath.

  “Really? You can get away?” The excitement in her tone has me driving a little faster.

  “On my way right now,” I tell her, smiling when I hear her sigh like she’s content.

  “Well, good, then you can—”