there’s a casing all right,” Kellan assured him, “and if we use it to ID the shooter, then there’ll be a trail to you.”
“No, there won’t be. But good luck wasting your time with that.”
“It might not be a waste of time,” Gemma reminded him. And it earned her a glare from Kellan. But she finished what she intended to say, and she made sure her voice was as steeled up as she could manage. “You believe you covered your tracks, but maybe you didn’t. You’re not perfect. You were in a panic the night Caroline and I found out what you were, and you took us hostage, remember? That wasn’t the well thought out actions of a cocky killer.”
Eric paused for a long time. “I remember,” he snapped. “And I’m sure you do, too. All that research we did together on Geo-Trace, and you didn’t have a clue.”
She hadn’t. She, Eric and Caroline had worked for two years on Geo-Trace, the name of their project for profiling and predicting specific areas of cities where violent crimes were most likely to occur. It could have helped law enforcement if Eric hadn’t been manipulating the data. He’d done that by murdering his victims in those predicted areas.
“Why did you do it? Why did you kill all those people?” Gemma asked Eric, earning her another glare from Kellan.
Yes, those were questions that could wait, and Eric likely wouldn’t even give her an honest answer, but maybe by keeping him on the line, Owen would be able to trace the call.
“That’s a conversation for another time,” Eric snarled.
“Not really. My guess is that you were in love with me and wanted to impress me.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart. I never loved you. It was never about you.”
There’d never been any hints that Eric had indeed had any romantic interest in her, but it twisted away at her to think that Eric could have done those monstrous crimes because of feelings that she hadn’t picked up on. That was yet another layer of guilt she could add to her life.
“Sheriff Slater, are you going to let Gemma do all the talking?” Eric pressed. “I wouldn’t if I were you. After all, if it wasn’t for Gemma, your daddy and that deputy would still be alive.”
“If it weren’t for you, they’d be alive,” Kellan corrected.
“Oh, but you’re wrong about that,” Eric quickly answered.
Kellan cursed. “Quit playing mind games and tell me what the hell it is you want.”
“Always did enjoy your direct approach. So, here’s the deal. Now that I’m back on my feet, I’m looking for Caroline. And you should be, too.”
“I have been looking for her,” Kellan assured him. “Plenty of people have been. Did you kill her?”
“No. Last I saw her, she was very much alive.”
Gemma found herself gripping on to the seat, but she shook her head. Eric could be lying, though she wanted that to be true. She had enough blood by association on her hands.
“I’ve killed a dozen or so people,” Eric went on, “but Caroline isn’t one of them. Neither was your father or the deputy. Dusty Walters. As much as I’d like to take credit for their deaths, I can’t.”
Gemma nearly laughed, and it wouldn’t have been because that was funny but because it was ridiculous.
Wasn’t it?
“What the hell are you talking about?” Kellan snarled. “I saw you shoot Gemma, and the bullets that killed my dad came from the same gun.”
“Because I found it on the floor inside the house. I picked it up and used it. I didn’t, however, use it on Deputy Walters. You know that because he was shot with a different weapon.”
“You had two guns on you,” Gemma murmured. At least that had been the most logical theory. For now, she scoffed, “So, you’re saying you’re innocent?” Gemma didn’t bother to take the sarcasm out of that.
But still, something inside her turned a little.
“No, I shot you, all right,” Eric admitted, and he sounded so pleased about that. “Wish I’d put the bullets in your head, but that’s what do-overs are for. You can have your own do-over, too, Kellan. But here’s my advice—find Caroline because she’s the one who can tell you who really killed Deputy Walters and your father.”
Kellan wasn’t able to shut out Eric’s words. They knifed through his head, a violent steady assault that was screwing around with his concentration.
Gemma wasn’t helping with his concentration, either, and since they’d arrived at his office, Kellan had been silently cursing her almost as much as he was Eric.
Almost.
Eric was a sociopathic lying snake, and he loved batting around people’s emotions. Like a cat playing with a half-dead mouse. That didn’t mean Kellan could dismiss what Eric had said, but he also wasn’t going to accept it as gospel truth.
So far, there’d been nothing about Gemma he could dismiss. Damn her. He wanted something to make himself immune, and common sense and bad blood sure as hell weren’t doing it. It riled him that his body hardened whenever she looked at him. Like now, for instance.
Gemma was in a corner of his office, and their gazes connected when he finished his latest call to the techs who’d tried to trace Eric’s call. Kellan had to shake his head. As expected, they’d had no luck with that. Also as expected, she sighed, lowered her head and got back to work.
She was working on a laptop that Owen had gotten for her so she could start researching some angles about where Eric might have been for the past year. Kellan had warned her to have no contact with her handler, had issued other warnings about hacking—something she was darn good at—or exchanging any communications with anybody. Since Gemma was scared and feeling guilty about Iris’s murder, she would probably stick to that, and maybe she’d even be able to find something that would help.
Now that I’m back on my feet... Eric had said.
Maybe that meant he’d been out of commission. That would explain his nearly one-year absence. He hadn’t been in jail. Kellan had combed the records for that, just in case Eric had been picked up under an assumed name. He’d investigated any and all possibilities for that and had come up empty.
So, maybe Eric had been hurt and physically unable to kill? Of course, this could be about finances, too. With every law enforcement agency in the state looking for him, he would have needed funds to move around.
Kellan’s phone rang again, and he answered it right away when he saw that it was Austin PD. That caused Gemma to send another look his way. Caused Kellan to issue another round of that silent profanity for the bronc-kick of heat he felt behind the zipper of his jeans. Thankfully, it didn’t affect his hearing.
“Just wanted you to know that there’s still no sign of the shooter,” Sergeant Alan Gonzales said. “Or Eric Lang. We’ll keep looking though.” The update, or rather the lack of it, had probably come because Kellan had left the sergeant two messages to call him.
Kellan was still stewing over the gunman’s getaway, and nearly peppered the sergeant with questions about why the gunman hadn’t turned up on highway cameras or why no one had spotted him or someone matching his description, but he knew Gonzales. He was a good cop. Still, if Kellan had thought it would get him answers, he would have peppered a good cop with those questions and more. But it was obvious Gonzales had nothing to give him.
He ended the call, taking some of his frustration out on the button on his phone that he jabbed too hard, and he got up to pour