“I think I just did draw attention to us,” she murmured.

“You drew attention to a pregnant couple. Just keep your head down and we can keep it that way.” Gently he led her back to the car and put her in, pushing her head between her knees. “Head down.” He slid behind the wheel and pulled his car onto the left shoulder, ignoring the glares of the motorists he passed.

“You’re going to get a ticket,” Alex muttered, and he smiled, then reached over to stroke the back of her neck and felt her muscles begin to soften.

“You pregnant women get testy,” he said, and she chuckled once. He turned into the first emergency access he came to, then pulled into the opposite bound lanes where traffic was moving more smoothly. He put on his lights and traffic parted like the Red Sea. “We’ll use the back roads for now. You want me to stop and get you some water?”

A little color had returned to her cheeks. “That’d be good. Thank you, Daniel.”

He frowned, wishing she’d stop thanking him. Wishing she’d stop having occasion to do so. Wishing he could see inside her head to understand exactly what it was that was causing that visceral, very physical response. Her cousin was right. They needed to get to the bottom of this and hypnosis might be the best way.

Wednesday, January 31, 6:15 p.m.

Well, that took them long enough, he thought, looking at the TV screen. The news anchor had flashed a picture of the boy, saying he was wanted for questioning by the police. He wasn’t such a bright kid, but he’d done everything he’d been asked to do.

Shame he’d have to die now, but… so it goes. The kid had grown up with all the luxuries money could buy. Now it was time to pay the piper, or at a minimum, pay for the sins of his father. In the kid’s case, his grandfather.

Who knew a kid that rich would be lonely? But he had been. He’d been excited to have a friend, and eager to help in any way he could. He’d make it painless for the kid. One bullet, right through the head. The boy would be dead before he hit the ground.

Chapter Seventeen

Atlanta , Wednesday, January 31, 6:45 p.m.

Chase was waiting at the team table when they arrived. “Are you okay, Alex?”

“Just a little morning sickness a little late in the day,” Alex murmured ruefully.

Chase’s eyes widened. “You’re pregnant?”

He said it so loudly Daniel winced. “No. Hush.” Daniel pulled a chair out for Alex and gently pushed her into it. “Alex got a little sick on the highway and I didn’t want to call any more attention to us. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time.”

Daniel began massaging Alex’s neck and shoulders. By now he knew where she liked to be touched. Well, maybe not all the places. He’d rushed this morning. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. When he got her in a proper bed, he’d take his time and seek out every one of those places. It paid to be thorough, after all.

Chase cleared his throat. “I’m so glad you kept a clear head,” he dryly.

Daniel flushed at the knowing look that accompanied Chase’s double-barbed jab. “Where is everyone? We’re late.”

“Everyone was running late. I pushed the meeting to seven.”

“Where is Hope?” Alex asked. “Did Dr. McCrady get anywhere today?”

“A little.” Chase leaned against the team table, his arms crossed. “We know the ‘magic wand’ is a flute. Mary McCrady put one on the table and the little girl started to hum the tune. The forensic artist mocked some pictures of your stepfather, Miss Fallon. He aged Crighton and gave him a beard, then he mixed up the mock-up with a half-dozen other pictures of old men and Hope picked Crighton right out.”

Alex clenched her jaw and swallowed hard, but she kept her eyes open and her focus on Chase. “Did Agent Hatton find him at Woodruff Park?”

“No. From what Hatton could learn, Crighton’s got a terrible temper and gets into a lot of brawls. Most of the other winos were terrified to even talk about him.”

“Has he ever been picked up?” Daniel asked.

“No record that I could find.” Chase aimed a hesitant look at Alex. “One of the winos said he saw Crighton arguing with a nun late yesterday evening.”

Beneath his hands, Alex’s shoulders sagged. “Oh God. Craig beat Sister Anne?”

“I’m sorry,” Chase said gently. “I think Crighton does not want to be found.”

She shook her head wearily. “I keep thinking it can’t get worse and it does. Where are Hope and Meredith?”

“Having supper in the cafeteria,” Chase said. “When they’re done, I have two female agents waiting to take them to their safe house. One of the agents will stay with them there and the other will meet you at your house in Dutton to get their things.”

“Thank you. You all have work to do. I’ll go sit with Meredith and Hope.”

Daniel watched her go, wishing he could make her sorrow and fear go away and a little guilty that he couldn’t quite get the picture of her in a proper bed out of his mind. He turned back to find Chase looking at him with scornful disbelief.

“You just couldn’t stay on that sofa, could you?”

Daniel couldn’t stop the grin that seemed to take over his face. “Actually, I did.”

Chase rolled his eyes. “Oh, for God’s sake, Daniel. On the sofa?”

Daniel shrugged. “It seemed like the right thing to do at the time.”

“What did?” Ed said, coming through the door, a folder in one hand.

Chase’s lips twitched. “Never mind.”

“Then it was good,” Talia grumbled, following Ed in. “I passed Drs. McCrady and Berg in the parking lot and Hatton and Koenig are on their way in, too.”

In five minutes they were all seated around the table. Mary McCrady sat at the far end, working on other cases until they needed her, and Daniel noticed Felicity had seated herself next to Koenig, as far away from Daniel as she could get and still be seated with the group. It made him a little sad, but he wasn’t sure what he could do about it, so he focused on the work. “Koenig, you go first.”

“The gunman in the pizza parlor last night was Lester Jackson. Sheet as long as your arm. Assault with a deadly, B &E, armed robbery. Been in jail more than he’s been out. That cop from the Underground said he was about 75 percent sure it was the guy that tried to run Alex down. He was surer about the car itself.”

“Do we know how Jackson ended up in Dutton last night?” Chase asked.

“We found a cell phone in his car,” Ed said. “Log showed he got three incoming calls from the same number yesterday and one outgoing to that same number.”

“So what exactly happened there?” Chase asked.

“I took Deputy Mansfield’s statement this morning,” Koenig said. “He said that they were notified the alarm at the pizza parlor had been triggered. Mansfield said he ordered the first responder to wait for backup before going in. Officer Cowell didn’t. Mansfield heard the shots as he drove up. He ran inside just as Lester Jackson shot Cowell. When Jackson pointed the gun at Mansfield, Mansfield shot him.” Koenig lifted his brows. “But Mansfield’s story doesn’t play. That’s why Felicity is here.”

“CSU recovered four weapons,” Felicity said. “Jackson’s.38, Sheila’s.45, and the two nine-millimeters belonging to Deputies Cowell and Mansfield. Deputy Cowell had been hit twice by Jackson’s.38. Either one would have killed him instantly. In fact, the first one did. The first one hit him in the throat, from about ten feet away.”

“The distance from where Jackson stood behind the counter to where Deputy Cowell fell,” Daniel said. “What about the second bullet?”

“He was dead when it entered his heart,” Felicity said, “from very close range.”

“So Jackson was standing at the cash register, shot Cowell the first time, then came around, stood over him, and shot him again.” Daniel shook his head. “Cold bastard.”