A Baby For Agent Colton. Jennifer Morey
away and won’t be let out. Yes, I’m very sure.” He’d reassure her, but if Carlton hadn’t been the one who followed her, who had?
“What did the man who followed you look like?” Jocelyn asked, getting a notepad out from Trevor’s center desk drawer.
“I didn’t get a good look at him,” Josie said. “I didn’t recognize him or his car.”
“It was a man?” Jocelyn probed, taking out a pen next.
“Yes.”
“Anything strike you about him? His hair? Maybe a hat?”
Josie shook her head. “He was too far away. Short hair, not thick. Sunglasses.”
Jocelyn jotted down the information. People remembered more than they thought when they were being questioned by police. “Close-cropped hair?”
“No, just thick and not long.”
“Okay. Good. How high did he sit in the seat?”
Josie sat straighter, eyes narrowing as she searched her memory. “Not high. Not low, either.”
“So average build, you’d say?”
Josie nodded. “Yes.”
“Where were you when you saw him? Is that the only time you saw him?” Trevor asked.
“When I came out of the market about a week ago. And again outside my house, except he drove past that time and didn’t seem to notice me.” She looked from Jocelyn to Trevor, clearly worried. “Can I trust the word of a reporter that everyone associated with the kingpin is either dead or in prison?”
Trevor didn’t want to frighten her. “Not the word of a reporter, but I’ve seen no indication that you should be concerned.”
Josie’s eyes closed briefly and she sighed. Then she waved a hand and stood. “It’s nothing. I’m being paranoid.”
Trevor let her go to the door. He may not have given her cause for concern, but he’d keep a close eye on her.
She smiled back at them. “I’ll leave you two love doves alone now.”
He’d make sure his brothers were aware of this and put an agent on her. As for her parting comment...he’d just forget she’d said such a thing.
* * *
Jocelyn couldn’t stop thinking about Josie’s visit earlier today, what she’d made her begin to ponder. The sounds and sights of the busy and brightly lit diner outside Granite Gulch faded away. Of course Trevor would have a hard time as a fourteen-year-old whose father had murdered his mother and been thrown in prison as a serial killer. She hadn’t considered how that might mar his ability to maintain relationships. She’d thought he’d want what he hadn’t had—a family. But he didn’t. He may fantasize about having one, but he didn’t embrace the reality. He consumed all of his time with work. He’d dedicated his life to his profession as an FBI profiler. She’d always understood why, or she’d thought she did. His father, of course. But why did he shy away from close relationships?
Workaholism bandaged his insecurity. Jocelyn almost blanched with the word in her head. The weakness didn’t fit the man. But he kept his insecurity hidden, even from himself. His affair with another agent supported her theory. The woman must have welcomed her ex back after seeing the hopelessness of investing her heart in a relationship with Trevor. He must have distanced himself from her—as he’d done with Jocelyn.
She respected his flaw. She did. Who could deal with a murderer as a father? She would stumble and perhaps fall, too. Few could handle that without emotion, and if they could, Jocelyn was sure something was wrong with them, too.
But even rationalizing all of that didn’t ease the trepidation creeping over her. He didn’t want to be involved with her because of his father. Mass murderer. Killer of his mother. Mind game player.
That had to mess with a kid’s head.
Did he have no sense of family? That had to be it. What glimpse he’d had of a family unit had to have been unusual. His father must not have been home much, and he had to have had interpersonal issues. Serial killers were renowned for their intelligence. Matthew Colton may have personified himself as a normal, even charismatic man, but no one would have known him like those who shared his house.
Did she care that much? Yes. She worked with Trevor. She’d had sex with him. And then the matter of her feelings compounded the rest.
“Something on your mind?”
Jarred from staring across the room, realizing a woman sitting with a man glared at her for doing so, thinking she’d been staring at the man, Jocelyn lowered her hand from her chin, leaned back and contemplated Trevor.
Rather than take up that discussion with him now, she broached something she’d been thinking about lately. “I want to pose as bait for Regina, see if we can draw her out.”
Instantly, Trevor’s brow dived for his nose. “What? Where did that idea come from?”
She leaned forward, elbows on the table. “When your sister Annabel pieced together that the victims frequented restaurants, I got to thinking. I have long dark hair. Regina doesn’t know me. She doesn’t know I’m an FBI agent. I’m a rookie. I’m in the background in this investigation. So are you. We haven’t been in the media.”
The Alphabet Killer would pay attention to the news. She might even enjoy hearing about her work.
“No way.” Trevor shook his head. “No.”
She slapped the tabletop. “Trevor, stop trying to protect me. You’ve done that ever since I started working with you.”
“Because you have long dark hair and your name starts with a J. Really? You’d risk your life for this?”
“Wouldn’t you?” She shook her head, shaking off what he insinuated. “I won’t be a risk until I agitate her. We need a plan, a surveillance plan and a cover story. We’re getting nowhere. We need to move in, get closer and catch her!”
Trevor sighed long and hard, glancing over the diner, seeing everything. The man didn’t miss a thing, even when something distracted him like this. At last his eyes returned to her. She felt their dark intensity.
“What did you have in mind?” he asked. “Because I can tell you’ve thought about this in detail.”
She smiled. How did he, and when had he gotten to, know her so well?
“I could create a fake identity and start going out to all the local restaurants.” She looked around. “This one. All the others in town, and any outside the area. That’s something we need to research. We can’t limit the locations, but we should start with a perimeter and work with that set of establishments first.”
“What fake identity?” he asked.
“A real estate agent. There’s a vacant building at the edge of town. I contacted the owner. We can lease it.”
“What if Regina checks your background?”
She’d encountered a few criminals in her rookie days. She knew where to go to get a fake ID. But her cover had to be good. She needed Trevor and the rest of the task force on her side. He’d persuade the rest of the team to set up a sting operation. She didn’t respond. He wouldn’t agree, not easily.
He rubbed his fingers over his jaw, having shifted his position “Jocelyn.” He lowered his hand and she saw his sincerity. “This is a dangerous killer.”
“Really? I didn’t know that.”
He put his hands up as though to calm her down. “I’m not trying to be condescending.” And then his expression changed as something struck him. “Hold on a second. Why did you say we? Do you want the whole team involved?”
What else