Jared breathed a silent sigh of relief. He had been pretty sure that the press hadn’t followed him here. But with the concussion, he wasn’t quite himself yet. Maybe he hadn’t noticed someone—like Kyle Smith—tailing him.
But apparently they had just done the same research he’d done to find Rebecca Drummond. Or at least Kyle Smith had. Had he brought the others with him, like a pack of dogs, to attack?
Then Kyle attacked as he shoved the microphone in Jared’s face and had his cameraman zoom in on him. “So is Rebecca Drummond’s young son yours?”
It was probably a good thing that he’d holstered his gun, or he might have threatened the man with it. Instead, he punched in the number for the local authorities, identified himself and gave the address where he needed backup to disperse trespassers.
“No comment, Agent Bell?” Kyle said with a sneer.
He had no comment that he could make publicly without his supervisor reprimanding him. And there was no point to answering any of Kyle’s questions. The man twisted Jared’s replies to suit his own purposes.
Apparently, he wanted to expose all of Jared’s mistakes. Getting involved with a victim’s family member had definitely been a mistake. But that had been six years ago, and the boy had to be younger than that. Alex hadn’t looked much older than the toddler Jared had recently been helping protect. His head pounded, reminding him of the concussion that had rewarded his efforts. According to the doctor, he was lucky to be alive and have his memory intact.
Not that he could have forgotten Becca. He doubted he would ever be able to forget her. During the past six years, she had never left his mind. He’d seen her beautiful face in his dreams and in his waking moments. He’d thought of her often, wondering how she was doing—hoping she’d been able to move on after the loss of her sister.
“You’re not here to see your son?” Kyle prodded him with the question and that infuriatingly snide grin.
Jared fought the urge to glare at the man, too. Then, against his better judgment, he replied, “I’m investigating the disappearance of Amy Wilcox.”
“And how can Rebecca Drummond help you with that?” Smith asked. “She’s convinced her sister’s fiancé killed Lexi despite his rock-solid alibi.”
Jared wished she’d been right. But the alibi was indisputable and Becca’s judgment seriously biased where her almost-brother-in-law was concerned.
Sirens wailed in the distance as Jared’s backup approached. “Whoever is still on this property when the local authorities arrive will be arrested.”
“You’ve let a serial killer run free for six years, Special Agent Bell,” Kyle taunted him, “but you would arrest some reporters just doing their job?”
“You’re not just doing your job.” Jared had gotten that impression from the reporter before—that this was personal. Had Jared put away someone he’d known and cared about? Did the guy have some kind of vendetta against him? Why else would the reporter go after him like he did?
To suggest that Becca’s son was his...
It was preposterous. To think that he was a father, that he had been a father for six years and had never known...
His heart lurched in his chest as he considered the possibility that he had son.
No. It wasn’t a possibility.
* * *
HER NERVES FRAYED, Rebecca waited for Jared to ask. She’d heard the reporter’s speculation—the one who’d been looking through Alex’s bedroom window. That man had wondered if Alex was Jared’s son.
Why hadn’t Jared?
Fortunately Alex hadn’t heard any of the reporter’s questions or comments. She had tucked him back into his bed and drawn the blinds. And, despite the excitement, he had fallen asleep. She probably needed to thank Tommy for that. If his playdate friend hadn’t worn him out, there was no way Alex would have fallen asleep after catching a man looking in his window. Or with an FBI agent in the house.
Or maybe it was because of the FBI agent that he fell asleep—because he felt safe. Was that because Jared was FBI or because Alex instinctively felt a connection with him?
It didn’t matter that Alex hadn’t heard the reporter’s questions. He already had questions of his own. He’d already asked her who his father was.
He deserved an answer. He deserved a father. But Jared hadn’t even wanted to be a boyfriend all those years ago. She couldn’t imagine how he would have reacted if she’d told him she was pregnant. He probably would have thought she was trying to trap him because she was so fixated on him.
He was now focused on the contents of the plastic container in which Rebecca had preserved all of her sister’s pictures, journals and letters. He kept flipping through the photos, flinching when he came across the ones of a bruised and battered Lexi.
“He did that to her,” Rebecca said. But she hadn’t known that until she’d found the pictures in Lexi’s journal. Why hadn’t her sister told her that her fiancé was abusing her? Because Rebecca had been too busy? Had Lexi thought she wouldn’t care?
Lexi was only two years older than Rebecca, so they’d always been close growing up. When she’d graduated Lexi had stayed home and attended community college for a medical assistant program. Rebecca was the one who’d left home—for college and med school.
Guilt gripped Rebecca, squeezing her heart. Maybe if she had been more available to her sister, Lexi would have told her what was going on, and she could have helped her. She could have saved her...
Anger joined her guilt as she glanced at the photos, too. The man was a monster to have done that to sweet, beautiful Lexi.
“She took those photos as evidence against him,” Rebecca said, “in case something ever happened to her.” That was what Lexi had written on the journal pages between which those photos had been tucked. “She wanted you to know who her killer would be.”
Rebecca waited for Jared to bring up that damn ironclad alibi again. But the FBI profiler remained curiously silent and focused on those photographs.
Her pulse quickened. Was he beginning to believe her? To believe the evidence Lexi had left for him?
Of course Lexi hadn’t known who would be investigating her case. But she’d known that she would die and that there would be someone investigating her death.
Poor Lexi...
If only she’d told Rebecca what was going on.
But Rebecca had been too busy studying. She’d been too busy for much more than a short texted reply to her sister’s usual text, You still alive?
Yes, I’m still alive.
When she hadn’t heard from Lexi in a while, she had texted her the question: You still alive?
Lexi had never answered that text.
Rebecca closed her eyes as the pain overwhelmed her, and tears threatened. It didn’t feel like six years had passed since she’d lost her sister. It felt like yesterday.
“I’m sorry,” Jared said.
“Why?” He had already apologized for how he’d handled the situation with her—the line he regretted crossing into her bed.
Images flashed through her mind—of the two of them in bed, of naked skin sliding over naked skin. Of his lips on hers as he kissed her with all his intensity focused solely on her. He had made love to her so thoroughly, so passionately that it was as if she could still feel his hands on her body, his lips on her...
Desire rushed through her, heating her. She didn’t regret that he had crossed that line with her. She only regretted how it had ended.