Fatal Exposure

chapter 13



His boss was trying to kill him.

Feeling oddly hollow, Parker struggled to process what he’d learned. Hoffman. The man he’d always respected. The man who’d mentored his career. The man who’d taken him under his wing, helping restore his faith in the integrity of the police force after his father’s corruption sting. Hoffman had lied to him, manipulated him. He’d tried to do him in.

But why? And why now when they’d worked together for years? Because he was investigating Erin Walker’s death? Because he’d delayed in turning in Brynn? Or was it because he was finally closing in on Tommy’s killer after all this time?

“You think Hoffman got that gang leader out of jail,” Brynn repeated, sounding just as stunned.

“It wouldn’t be hard. He’d call up his old partner at the prison, tell him he wants Jenkins released. Collins switches up the paperwork and gets him out.”

And then Hoffman feigns outrage when the media howls about the mistake.

“And once he’s out, Jenkins attacks my agent. He kills Jamie, then tries to murder us.”

“Yeah.” After Hoffman fed Parker a story about wanting to get Brynn help.

He inhaled again, not wanting to believe it. Another man he’d looked up to had betrayed his trust. But he couldn’t dwell on that right now. He had to think, plan, figure out how to bring Hoffman down. Because if the Colonel thought he was going to win this fight, he was wrong. Dead wrong. Parker might have been slow to make the connection, but he’d be damned if he’d give up now.

He rose and stalked to the window, then braced his forearm on the glass and scowled out. The hell of it was, he couldn’t prove Hoffman’s involvement. There was no incriminating evidence, nothing to tie him to the gang leader’s release—let alone the attempt on their lives. Even his old partner’s involvement was circumstantial; Collins could claim he’d simply made a mistake.

Brynn joined him at the window a moment later. Her face was drawn, her eyes troubled, reflecting her doubts. “What about your supervisor? Where does he fit into this?”

“Damned if I know. Delgado’s not much older than I am. So he’d just started working in Homicide back then. He was there for a couple of years, then went over to the gang unit.”

“And that’s where he met Markus Jenkins.”

“Maybe.” It certainly looked suspicious. Delgado had tracked Parker’s movements. He could have fed Hoffman the story about the drugs. So was Delgado directing Hoffman, or the reverse?

Not knowing what to think, he blew out a frustrated breath. Both Hoffman and Delgado could have known the gang leader. Either could have arranged his release. And either one could have set the cops on Parker’s trail.

But only one was Tommy’s killer. Only one had a motive to want them dead.

The question was—which one?

The office door swung open, and Brynn’s friend Haley came in. “You got a fax,” Parker told her, his mind still on the case. His instincts urged him to focus on Hoffman, given his possible involvement in the Walker girl’s death and his relationship to Brynn. But Parker couldn’t afford to discount Delgado—because if he made a mistake and guessed wrongly, Brynn would pay the price.

“Did you find out anything about my father?” Haley asked, walking over to the fax machine.

“Not yet.” But if he had defended Markus Jenkins, it provided yet another link in this twisted chain. “I doubt he had anything to do with his release, though.” Collins was a better bet.

But that still left both Hoffman and Delgado as potential suspects. And until he figured out who the killer was, he couldn’t trust either one.

“Oh, no,” Haley groaned, looking at her fax.

“Bad news?” Brynn asked.

“It never stops.” Haley walked over and handed the paper to Brynn. “This girl went missing last night. Any chance you’ve seen her around?”

Brynn took the page from Haley. Her gasp caused his heart to skip. “What is it?”

Her hand trembling, she turned the paper his way. On it was a picture of a preteen girl. A girl with a long, black ponytail. “It’s the girl from High Rock Camp.” The girl who’d been sitting beside Hoffman at the campfire.

And she wore that now-familiar necklace around her neck.

* * *

Her stepfather had attacked another child.

Brynn stared at the photo of the girl, her head light, the room weaving in and out of focus as the realization sank in. Hoffman had struck again. Another child was suffering the hell that she’d been through. She’d failed to stop him in time.

“Are you all right?” Parker asked, his voice sounding far away.

“Yes, I...”

“Come on. You need to sit down. You look like you’re going to faint.” He led her to the couch, and she slumped down on the threadbare cushions, jarring her injured arm.

“Here. Drink some water,” Haley thrust a bottle into her hands.

Brynn obediently took a sip, then shuddered hard, fighting down an onrush of bile. Hoffman was on the hunt. He’d harmed another innocent child. That necklace had to be the proof.

“Hoffman took her,” she whispered, feeling sick. “We didn’t stop him in time.”

Parker lowered himself to the couch beside her, his eyes dark with concern—and something else. Fear. Determination. Guilt?

Shaking away that wild thought, she motioned toward the fax. “The necklace she’s wearing,” she asked Haley. “Have you seen it before? We think that symbol might mean something.”

Haley studied the picture again. “No, but I can ask the girls.”

Parker climbed to his feet. “I’ll go with you. I want to hear what they have to say.”

But Haley shook her head. “You’d better stay here. They won’t talk to a cop.” Taking the paper with her, she rushed away.

Parker returned to the couch. His gaze traveled over her face. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

“Just scared.” She pressed her fingers to her lips. Her worst fear had just been realized. Another innocent child was at the mercy of that sadistic man. “We have to find her, Parker.”

“We will.”

“But Hoffman—”

“You don’t know for sure that he has her.”

“Of course he has her. You can’t possibly think this is a coincidence. Not when she has that necklace on.”

“It looks bad,” he agreed. “But we still need evidence. I can’t get a warrant based on a hunch.”

“You saw that picture. He sat next to her at the campfire.”

“Which he had every right to do. For God’s sake, Brynn, he’s friends with a powerful senator. He’s the head of the Criminal Investigation Division. No one’s going to go against him without proof.”

“Not even to save that child?”

He rose and paced to the window. He spun on his heel and came back. “Listen. I want to stop him as much as you do. Probably more if he had anything to do with Tommy’s death. But I need something else to go on—facts, evidence. Suspicions aren’t enough this time. If I try to have him suspended, it’s going to look personal, like I’m retaliating for his charge about drugs. I need something to back me up.”

She stared at him, slack-jawed. “I don’t believe this. He tried to arrest you. He tried to kill you. And you’re still protecting him?”

“I’m not protecting him.”

“Of course you are! He’s a cop, so of course you’re going to take his side.”

“It’s not that. It’s just...a charge like this...they’ll suspend him. Someone will leak it to the press. Word will get out that he’s a pedophile, and he’ll never recover from that. Even if he’s found innocent later, his reputation is ruined. And no matter what I think he’s done, I can’t destroy him without proof.”

Brynn shook her head, desperation knotting her insides. Somehow she had to convince him. They had to find Hoffman and stop him fast. But then the office door swung open, and Haley came back in. “One of the girls recognized the symbol,” she said, sounding breathless.

Brynn’s belly tensed. “What is it?”

“It sounds really sick, but it’s something pedophiles use. She says it’s like an insider symbol, a member of the club type of thing.”

So she was right. She shot Parker a pointed look. “I told you.”

But he only shook his head. “It’s still not enough. We don’t know that he gave it to her. And what if he did? He could claim he didn’t know what it meant. He can explain all this away.”

Too frustrated to sit still anymore, Brynn rose and walked to the window, then stared out at the gathering dusk. That child was in terrible danger. And she knew that Hoffman had her. She knew her stepfather, knew how he operated, knew the kind of child he preferred.

But she didn’t have proof. She turned to Parker again, determined to find a way. “What kind of evidence do you need?”

“Photos. Emails or phone calls. A credible victim would do.”

A credible victim. She went stone-still. Her heart made a frantic skip. She’d been Hoffman’s victim. But would Parker believe her if she told him the truth? No one else ever had.

She closed her eyes, her belly pitching, the thought of revealing those horrific details making her want to wretch. But she had to rescue that girl—no matter what the personal cost.

And Haley was right. Parker was a good guy. He’d saved her from the drive-by shooting. He’d helped her flee the cops. In the end he might not believe her, but she knew that he’d hear her out.

Assuming she had the nerve to reveal the truth.

Another wave of dizziness barreled through her, and she placed her hand on the glass. She didn’t want to relive the past. But she had to do this. She had to reach deep inside her and find the courage to admit the truth—before another innocent victim died.

She turned to her best friend. Haley held her gaze for a moment, then nodded her approval, understanding what she intended to do. She left the office and closed the door, leaving Brynn and Parker alone.

“All right,” Brynn said, knowing she couldn’t turn back now. “If you need a victim, I’ll give you one. Me.”

* * *

Needing a moment to compose herself, she turned toward the window again and stared out at the small backyard. Bare branches clawed the sky. Withered bushes bowed in the fitful breeze. Dusk crept inexorably over the patio, turning the landscape an ominous, tombstone gray.

Knowing she couldn’t postpone this, that every passing second mattered to that missing girl, she inhaled and turned around. Parker leaned against the back of the sofa, his arms folded across his broad chest, his eyes inscrutable as he waited for her to speak.

“I told you my stepfather was a cop,” she began. “What I didn’t tell you is that he’s Hugh Hoffman, the C.I.D. chief. He sexually abused me when I was young. That’s why I ran away from home.”

Parker’s eyes flickered, but his face remained impassive, making her wonder if he already knew. But that was silly. How could he have figured it out? She’d been so careful not to let it slip.

Deciding she’d imagined his reaction, she forged ahead. “My dad died when I was five. Hoffman started dating my mother a year later, when I was six. At first I thought he was nice. He talked to me, paid attention to me. He took me places—swimming, fishing, roller-skating. He gave me candy and little gifts.”

She hugged her arms, ignoring the twinge of pain. “My dad and I...we were really close. I adored him. And when he died I fell apart. It was a really bad time. Then Hoffman came along. He played me perfectly. He saw that I needed attention and filled the void.”

She flattened her lips. “It was typical grooming behavior. First he established a bond. Then as soon as he married my mother, he graduated to the next stage. He started finding excuses to touch me. He hugged me, tickled me, kissed me. He had me sit on his lap while we watched TV. He always wanted to wrestle and horse around, especially if I was in my nightgown. He even came into the bathroom when I was taking a bath and insisted on drying me off. And then he started showing me pictures....”

“Stop.” Parker’s jaw turned to iron. He pushed away from the couch and strode to her side. “You don’t have to do this.”

“You need to know how he works.”

“Not if it’s too painful.” His eyes blazed into hers. “I mean it, Brynn. You don’t have to tell me this.”

She searched his eyes, tempted to take the easy way out. But if there was some clue she could reveal, some way to help that missing girl...

Taking another deep breath, she forced herself to go on. “I knew something was wrong. He seemed creepy. He was always watching me, touching me... But my mother loved him. She kept saying how great he was.”

She made a derisive sound. “And he was great. He drove me places. He took the time to play with me. He even volunteered at my school. And my mother fell for the act. He was her savior. We didn’t have much money after my dad died. She went back to work as a waitress, but we were just scraping by. Then Hoffman came along and supported her so she didn’t have to work so hard. So whenever I tried to tell her what he was doing, she just got mad. She accused me of making things up.

“And then he began to abuse me.” She closed her eyes, trembling wildly, her mind caught up in the dreadful past. “I won’t go into the details.” Bad enough that she’d suffered through it. She couldn’t inflict that horror on him. “But he...he likes violence. The more he hurt me, the more excited he got.”

“Brynn...” Parker’s voice broke, but she had to go on. She had to tell him the rest before she lost her nerve.

“He gave me gifts afterward. The worse the attack, the bigger the gift. That’s why when I saw the necklace...”

Parker clenched his hands. Fury and indignation burned in his eyes. “You reported this, right?”

She gave him a bitter smile. “Yeah, I reported it. But no one believed me. He claimed I’d misunderstood, or that I’d exaggerated or lied. That I was acting out against him because he’d taken my father’s place. And everyone believed him because he was so nice. All the teachers liked him. He coached my soccer team. And he was a cop. You know what his reputation is like. Of course they believed him over me. Even my mother bought the story. She thought he could do no wrong.

“And the worst part was that he was right. I did lie. I was so angry, so desperate to stop him that I accused him of all sorts of things. And when those turned out to be lies...”

“They didn’t believe the rest.”

She managed a nod. “He was smart. He made sure everyone thought I was unbalanced, while he was the caring stepfather who was only trying to help. So when I accused him of abuse, he came across as the victim of a vindictive child.”

“You never saw a doctor?”

She shook her head. “I wouldn’t let anyone near me. My mother tried, but I was so angry and ashamed....But that only convinced them even more that I’d lied.”

Parker closed the distance between them. He cradled her jaw with his strong, warm hands, his dark gaze drawing her in. “I believe you.”

A flurry of warmth billowed through her. Tears of relief sprang to her eyes. His words were so simple, so ordinary, but they meant the world to her. “Parker...”

He pulled her head to his chest. A swarm of emotions thickened her throat. She closed her eyes, relishing his heat, his strength, the dependable beat of his heart.

A good guy, Haley had told her. She was right.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured into her hair. He stroked gentle circles on her back. “I wish I could have been there to help you.”

She lifted her head, so touched she could hardly speak. “I’m okay now. I saw a therapist for a long time. I did a lot of reading, talked with other survivors of sexual abuse. It wasn’t easy. I had nightmares for years. And I couldn’t...date for the longest time. But I’ve put it behind me now.”

“This doesn’t define you,” he said, his voice suddenly fierce. “This isn’t who you are.”

He was wrong. It did define her. “I can’t escape my past, Parker, no matter how terrible it was. It shaped my life, my career. It made me who I am.”

“It made you stronger.” His gaze held hers. “You’re the strongest person I know.” The frank words hung between them. His blatant admiration nearly did her in. Her throat closed up. Moisture sprang to her eyes again. Her emotions on overload, she looked away. His acceptance and belief in her innocence meant more than she could say.

Parker stepped back and released her, as if sensing she needed space. “Is that why he’s trying to kill you? To keep you from testifying against him?”

Grateful for his understanding, she shook her head. “I don’t think so. He’s convinced everyone I’m unstable. No one would believe me, even now. And you know how powerful he is.”

“Then why come after you? You think he’s the one who killed Tommy?”

“Maybe. But I know something else about him, something that could bring him down. He likes porn, really despicable stuff. He used to make me watch. And I...I’m pretty sure he took videos. I think that’s what he’s afraid of, that I might find them. If it’s just my word against his, he’s in the clear. But if I can find those videos...”

Parker’s eyes turned hard. His steel jaw bunched, a sudden blast of fury vibrating right out of his muscled frame. “We’ll find them. And we’ll find that girl.” He raised his hands and cupped her face, his gaze locked on hers. “I promise you, Brynn, we’ll bring him down, no matter what it takes.”

Her heart tumbled hard. She bit her lips, battling the reckless words that nearly spilled out. Because Parker had just given her the most precious gift of her life, something far more valuable than trust. He’d given her hope.

And despite what she’d said to Haley, she feared she was fast falling in love with this amazing man.

* * *

For the first time in his life, Parker didn’t care about breaking the rules. Nothing mattered more than stopping Hoffman from harming that missing girl.

He grabbed Brynn’s cell phone from the dashboard of their borrowed car and punched in Guerrero’s number again. The call instantly cut to voice mail, and he swore. Where the hell was his coworker? Why didn’t he answer his phone?

They didn’t have time to waste. They needed to issue an Amber alert. They needed to interview the missing kid’s parents and examine her computer for clues. They needed to mobilize their forces, using every available resource to capture Hoffman.

But Parker couldn’t make those calls, not with every police force in the area trying to bring him in. No one would believe him. He’d end up tipping off Hoffman, giving him a chance to destroy the evidence they needed to put him away for good.

He couldn’t do this alone. He needed help.

Hissing his frustration, he tossed the phone into the cup holder beneath the console and glanced at Brynn. She stared out the windshield, her knuckles white on the steering wheel. His thoughts veered back to what she’d told him about the abuse, and his heart made a sudden lurch. He couldn’t think about that right now. He couldn’t dwell on the pain she’d endured. It made him too crazed, made him want to hit something, smash something, pound Hoffman to a bloody stump. And he had to hold it together until they rescued that missing kid.

Brynn exited Interstate 270 at Frederick, the town where she’d grown up. Parker turned his gaze to the windshield, his tension rising as they headed toward her childhood home.

“You’re sure he still lives here?” Brynn asked.

“He lists this address on the roster.” He’d checked before they’d left. But whether Hoffman would be here was another question—or if he’d have the girl with him if he was. The camp was a better bet. But since this was on their way, better to rule it out before they spent the night tramping uselessly through the woods.

A minute later Brynn turned down a quiet side street, a residential neighborhood filled with 1960s era ranch-style homes. She slowed partway down the block, then stopped at a one-story brick rancher with its porch light on. Huge trees towered over the house. A garbage can sat at the curb. Overgrown hydrangea bushes swallowed the front windows, making it impossible to see inside. A dog yapped in the house next door.

“Is that his car?” she asked, motioning toward a small sedan in the carport.

“No. He drives an SUV. Your mother must be home alone.” He paused. “How do you suggest we get inside? I want to check his office for clues.”

“We don’t need to go inside. He uses the woodshed in the backyard as his office. He ran wires out there and even had plumbing installed.”

Her voice sounded strained, and suddenly Parker understood what she hadn’t said. Hoffman had taken her to that shed. And there was no way he could make her revisit the place she’d been abused. “Wait here. I’ll go check it out.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“Forget it. I’m going in alone.”

She reached out and touched his hand. “I have to do this, Parker. I can’t keep avoiding the past.”

His heart rolled, a maelstrom of emotions tumbling through him as he gazed at her in the dark. She was the most courageous woman he’d ever met.

And he realized something else. This wasn’t just about the runaway girl anymore. Naturally, he wanted to save her, but he also wanted justice for Brynn. No one had ever believed her. No one ever helped her. She’d been abandoned by every adult who should have cared.

For once in her life, she deserved a man who wouldn’t betray her, a man who’d face down her enemies, a man who’d fight to keep her safe.

And God help him, but he wanted to be that man.

No matter how many rules he had to break to get it done.

* * *

Brynn had lied. She didn’t want to go anywhere near that dreadful shed.

She stood rooted in the shadows behind Parker, her gaze on the wooden structure as he jimmied the lock on the door. Her pulse was going berserk. A cold sweat moistened her skin in spite of the chilly air. The last thing she wanted to do was enter the place where she’d experienced such terror and pain.

But Hoffman wasn’t here. No one could hurt her now. And they needed clues. They had to find evidence that would lead them to that missing girl.

The neighbor’s dog continued to bark. The wind gusted again, sending shivers down her neck and spine. Brynn hugged herself, the pain of her injured shoulder hardly registering as Parker opened the creaking door. Then he stepped inside the shed, his footsteps heavy on the wooden floor. “Where’s the light?”

“The switch is on the right. But we’d better close the door first.” Judging by the glow in the family room window, her mother was immersed in her TV game shows, but there was no point taking a chance.

Trembling even more now, she stepped over the threshold into the shed. The door thudded shut behind her with the finality of a coffin lid. “All right.”

Parker flipped on the overhead light. Brynn blinked in the brightness. The shed was empty. Completely empty. Every trace of Hoffman’s presence was gone.

“Looks like he moved his stuff,” Parker said, echoing her thoughts.

Still unable to believe it, Brynn turned on her heels, taking in the filthy, scuffed-up floorboards, the sound-absorbent panels covering the walls, the now-empty cupboard, its door hanging ajar. Only that same, off-balance ceiling fan wobbled overhead, its fluted globes black with dust.

“He must have taken his stuff to the camp,” she said. “There used to be a desk over here with his computer, a bed on the other side.” With a locker underneath containing his “toys.”

Bile rose in her throat. She pressed her hands to her mouth, not wanting to relive the past. But the walls began to weave. That paddle fan twirled overhead, making the same relentless tick. Screams echoed in her ears, the frantic, high-pitched cries of a helpless child.

“Come on,” Parker said. “Let’s get out of here. The way that dog is barking, someone has probably called the cops.”

Fighting off her panic, she wheezed in a strangled breath. “Good idea.” She couldn’t wait to leave this awful place.

He flipped off the light. Her back drenched with sweat now, Brynn shoved the door open and stumbled into the yard. Even empty, the shed gave her the creeps, as if the pain she’d suffered during all those years had forever permeated the walls.

Instead of just destroying her soul.