Next a man had been taken from Virginia, then one from D.C. Poor Jeremy Briar had been abducted from Maryland.
All of the men disappeared from college campuses, or rather, from bars located near the campuses.
Two men had come back alive.
Two hadn’t been so lucky.
The serial kidnappers were smart, very good at covering their tracks, and too good at picking targets.
When it came to knowing the identity of the abductors, the SSD had nothing. Nothing.
She hurried down an elaborate walkway and eased past a fountain that sprayed water high into the air. Voices rose and fell, drifting out of the house through the open doorway. She stepped off the path and found herself on a mosaic that reproduced a Rembrandt painting.
Too much money. Maybe too much time, too.
Sam eased past the uniforms stationed near the door, keeping her ID out. “I need to find Agent Dante.” She still didn’t know why he’d called her in, but she wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.
“He’s in the study,” the nearest cop told her.
Sam’s brows rose. That was supposed to tell her what, exactly?
The cop flushed a deep red—a red that matched his hair. “Down the hallway, second door. The room with the body.”
Right, the body. This family had sure been through hell.
Her shoes whispered against the tile. First they’d lost their only child and now—
Sam skidded to a halt just outside the study. The techs were bagging the victim, an older guy with gray-streaked hair, tanned skin, and half his skull missing.
“Morgan Briar,” Luke Dante murmured, looking up from his notes and giving her a cool nod. He stood near the large window to the right. “He’s been dead about five hours now.” Luke’s green eyes held hers.
Morgan Briar. The father. Oh, Jesus. “What happened? Why—”
“No, I don’t need a damn lawyer!” A woman’s shrill cry tore through the air. Sam glanced over her shoulder and saw a tall, icily beautiful blonde being led down the stairs. The woman wore slim black pants and what looked like a white cashmere sweater. The sweater was stained with blood.
“That’d be Mrs. Kathleen Briar,” Luke murmured.
Kathleen’s hair had come loose from one of those fancy twists that Sam had never been able to manage.
Cops flanked the woman on either side. One, an older guy with graying hair at his temples, was reading the woman her rights. “If you can’t afford—”
“I can afford a f**king attorney. I just don’t want one right now!” Kathleen’s voice rose to a screech.
“She called it in about an hour ago,” Luke said quietly, and Sam heard the hint of a drawl beneath his words. He strode forward and came to her side.
Luke was still the newest agent in the SSD. He’d transferred up from Atlanta and had immediately paired up with the unit’s top profiler, Monica Davenport. “From the looks of things,” he continued, motioning toward the bar, “Mrs. Briar had a gin before making that call.”
“She killed him?” Sam shook her head. Okay, she hadn’t expected that.
The cop kept reading the Miranda rights to his perp. “Anything you say or do can be held…”
“She told the 9-1-1 operator that she shot her husband.” Luke crossed his arms and watched the procession. Kathleen and her guards were almost at the study door now. Almost…
Kathleen stopped to glare at Sam and Luke. “I’m not sorry.”
Luke lifted one shoulder. “Never said you were, ma’am.” His voice was cool. Odd, because of all the agents, he was the one who always seemed the most intense. The one who seemed to care too much.
Maybe he’d been hanging around with Monica and Hyde too long.
Kathleen’s eyes were bone dry. No tears for her. “Jeremy was mine. That ass**le should have told me about the call. He should have—” She broke off and shook her head. “Jeremy would be alive. Alive.”
Now her husband and son were both dead, and there was fury glittering in her green eyes.
“He cheated on me,” Kathleen admitted in a stark voice. The cops beside her were silent, their own eyes wide. “He bought houses for those sluts that cost more than my son’s ransom.” She swallowed. “He let Jeremy die. I can still see him, cut up. My baby…” Her eyes closed.
Luke watched her with a somber stare, then he caught the gaze of the older cop. “Take her outside.”
This kill would be the local PD’s show, not a case for the SSD, but the cops were still looking to Luke for guidance.
The cop nodded and reached for the cuffs on his hip.
“No.” Luke shook his head. “Just put her in the back of the squad car.”
Kathleen’s lashes lifted, and the fury had vanished. That fast. She blinked and just looked… lost. “Jeremy’s gone.”
Sam swallowed. So was Morgan. “Mrs. Briar, I really think you should reconsider that attorney.”
Another slow, almost confused blink. “My baby…”
The cops took Kathleen’s arms and guided her down the long, winding hallway. Her heels clicked on the tiles.
“I never expected her to react like this,” Luke said.
Sam’s gaze shot to Luke. He ran a fast hand through his hair. “Shit. She seemed so controlled earlier today.”
Because the woman had been in shock.
“I should have brought Monica to the scene.” He eased into the hallway. “She would have seen the signs. I should have seen them.”
Monica could look at a killer and see the darkest parts of his mind, but when it came to the victims… “She might not have seen it either.” The words came out harder than she’d intended.
One of Luke’s blond brows shot up.
Sam cleared her throat. Yes, that had sounded wrong, but lately, Monica made her nervous. Very nervous. She was worried that Monica might look too close and see—
Broken.
“Why am I here?” Sam asked him, leaving the study and the body and finally feeling like she could breathe again. “Hyde said—”
“I’m lead on this case.” Authority pushed through the flat words.
She inclined her head in agreement. “But we both know that when it comes to the SSD, Hyde calls the shots.” Sam really didn’t think Luke wanted to get into a pissing match with the big boss. “Hyde said for me to stay away.”
They walked down the hallway. No staff members appeared. In a place this big, she’d expected a maid or—someone. But maybe Kathleen Briar had sent the help away, right before she shot her husband in the head at point-blank range.