He shut the door, making sure not to slam it. Reed was a facilitator in the business. The kind of guy with too many contacts. One who loved providing work to down-on-their-luck cowboys and soldiers. Dangerous work.
Cigarette butts littered the ground. Through the small windows, he saw that the bar’s interior was dim and silent. He passed the bar, not slowing. Veronica’s quiet footsteps followed him.
“Are you sure he’s our guy?” she whispered.
Jasper grunted. “You hired me for my contacts, didn’t you?” Only she didn’t know that the contacts in question had actually come from the EOD. Sydney had done the intel on this one. Once Jasper had ID’d Reed, Sydney had linked the guy to Cale. For the past five years, Cale had always visited the bar just days before he went out on a mission. He never came into the bar any other time.
Just right before he deployed. Five days before each mission, to be precise. Like clockwork.
Sydney had riffled through Cale’s credit-card records in order to find that little nugget of information.
At the apartment door, Jasper hesitated. He didn’t want to leave Veronica out in the open, but he also didn’t want her to see just how hard he might have to push Reed.
I can’t take him down in front of her. It will blow my cover.
But he also wasn’t about to let the guy get away. Not if this little Q and A went down the way he thought it would.
His gaze flickered to her. She stared at him, then mouthed, I’m coming with you.
Well, situation settled. Nodding grimly, he lifted his hand and slammed his fist into the door. “Reed Montgomery, open the door. My name’s Jasper Adams. I need to—”
The door swung inward. Because it wasn’t locked. Because it wasn’t even shut all the way and the force of Jasper’s fist had sent the wood sliding in.
The interior of the apartment seemed as dim and silent as the bar.
“Reed?” he called out, raising his voice.
No response.
But he’d seen Reed’s motorcycle parked outside the apartment. Sydney had tagged the vehicle so that Jasper would know what ride to look for at the scene.
He took a step inside.
Veronica grabbed his arm. “You can’t just walk in there,” she said, voice hushed. “That’s against the law! That’s breaking and entering.”
He exhaled slowly. “It’s not breaking if the door is wide open.”
She blinked.
“Besides, this is why you hired me.” No way was he about to let this perfect opportunity slip by him. He took her wrist and pulled her inside behind him. She shut the door, looking pale but determined.
Her first B and E, well, E. Cute.
He glanced around. All of the blinds were down, so they didn’t have to worry about anyone taking a shot at them right then. The shooter would never be able to get a clear hit without seeing into the apartment. Jasper began to advance, surveying the area. Everything seemed to be in place. No furniture overturned. TV turned off. Breakfast...
Still out.
Jasper froze. A half-eaten pancake with congealed syrup waited on the kitchen table. “Reed?” he called one more time even as his nose twitched. The smell in the place was off. The deeper he went into the apartment, the thicker that slightly rancid odor became.
He paused in front of a closed door. Had to be for the bedroom because the bathroom was right next to the little den. Before he turned the knob, Jasper took out his gun and cradled it carefully in his right hand. No sounds came from inside that room. Not even a whisper of sound.
He opened the door.
Because the dead can’t whisper.
Reed Montgomery was most definitely dead.
The man’s body was lying facedown on the floor. Blood had pooled beneath him. His hands were out by his sides, positioned deliberately.
Jasper knew that if he turned the man over, he’d find that the guy’s throat had been sliced. The killer had come up on the guy, walked silently up behind him, caught him off guard...
And used his knife on Reed’s throat. The man wouldn’t have even had the chance to scream. Not that a scream would have helped him.
Just like the others. Because Jasper had looked at a crime scene like this before. Three times before.
“Jasper.” Veronica’s strangled voice. He glanced at her, saw the horror on her face. The increased pallor of her skin.
Hell. Another dead body for her to deal with in less than twenty-four hours.
He blocked her view. “Go back into the den.” He needed to search the scene. He couldn’t risk her contaminating evidence, and he just...
I don’t want her having to stare at the body.
“It’s him, isn’t it?” She swallowed. “The man who owns the bar. The one you called Reed.”
He nodded.
“I...talked to him last night. He’s the one who directed me to you when I came in Last Chance.”
So Reed had recognized him, too. Jasper had suspected that the man remembered him. Reed would also have known that Veronica was Cale’s sister. No way would the guy not be aware of her, not after all of his dealings with Cale. So Reed had realized that Jasper and Veronica were hooking up; he’d probably figured that Jasper was helping to track Cale.
Just hours after he’d gotten that knowledge, he had been killed.
Killed...silenced.
The killer knew I was coming to talk to Reed.
So Reed had been taken out.
“He asked me...asked if I was sure I wanted you.” Her gaze was on his. “I was sure.” Her chin lifted. “Is he dead...because of whatever is happening with Cale?”
Why lie? Besides, the woman already knew the truth. “Looks that way.”
He gave her credit. She didn’t flinch. Her shoulders straightened, and she turned for the door. She’d taken two steps when she hesitated. “Did he suffer?”
“No.” The kill had been quick and clean. The work of a man who knew just what he was doing with a knife.
“Good.” Her breath whispered out. “My father...he suffered... No one should have to suffer.” She slipped from the room.
Swearing, Jasper turned back to the body. He yanked out his phone. Punched one button to get Gunner on the line. “I’m going to need a crime-scene team out at Last Chance,” he said, not bothering to identify himself. “Our guy’s struck again.”
A swift inhalation of air, and then Gunner demanded, “You’re sure it’s the one we’re looking for?”
“No sign of B and E.” Not from what he could tell. Just like the other scenes. “Looks like the victim let him in.” The kill had happened just hours before. “Then when the vic turned his back, the killer struck.” His fingers tightened on the phone. “The attack came from behind, just like the others. A slice right across the jugular. The victim bled out.” Had it been easy? Had he suffered?