Before the Dawn(52)

Bowen swore. "That's one cold, methodical bastard you're talking about."

He absolutely was. "And we both know just how dangerous a guy like that truly is." He glanced at Dawn's shut door once more. He wanted to go in there and see her, touch her. Just make sure that she was safe, but...

You have a job to do. Do it. Protect her. He looked away from the door. "There's a possibility I never considered before."

Bowen lifted a brow.

"When Dawn first told me about her stalker, she wondered if it was Jason."

He saw Bowen's shoulders stiffen. 

"I shot him in the chest. I know I did. Body or no, he's dead." He was adamant on that. "But...fuck me, what if he wasn't working alone?"

Bowen gave a low whistle. "You know serial killing teams are extremely rare."

"But they do exist. One is usually the dominant, and the other follows his orders. Jason would have been the dominant partner of the team. And maybe...maybe with his death, the perp we're looking for now spiraled. For all we know, he could've suffered a mental break and been institutionalized for the past few years."

"Or been arrested," Bowen mused. "If his partner vanished, he would have been at loose ends."

Tucker began to pace. "And if that's the case, it would explain why the attacks are suddenly happening now. He's worked up his nerve. It took him this long, but he's back in action again. He knows how to mark the victims like the Iceman because he worked with the Iceman. He studied under him. See, at first, I was thinking the perp was someone who'd gotten access to the case files. Maybe someone even in law enforcement, but...but I think we have to consider that Jason Frost wasn't working alone."

"It would have certainly made his crimes easier," Bowen mused. "Moving the victim, securing the freezers..."

"Right. And now...hell, even his fixation on Dawn makes sense. If our guy had partnered with Jason before, then he's finishing the work that the Iceman started."

Bowen stared at him, seeming to absorb his words. "Who was your brother friends with, back in the day? Anyone standing out for you? I can start doing background investigations-"

Tucker gave a rough bark of laughter. "That's the problem. I'm the one he was close to back in the day. He didn't have a lot friends. The guy was a loner. An alpha type. He had lovers-too many of them-but they were disposable to him. He never formed a close attachment with anyone but me."

Bowen rubbed the back of his neck. "In order for your theory to work, we need an actual partner. There had to be someone, you just didn't know about it. The same way you didn't know that your brother was a cold-blooded killer."

But I did know. Tucker stared at him. Just stared.

Bowen's eyes widened. "Tuck?"

That nickname made him stiffen. Jason had always called him by that name. He licked his lips and tasted the fucking bitterness of regret. "Sometimes you see the danger coming, you feel it closing in, but you want to pretend it's not there. You want to pretend it's not real. Because it can't be, right?"

Pity flashed on Bowen's face.

"I was just nine when I realized how different my brother was." A day of blood and death and hell. "I knew there was evil inside but I thought...I thought Jason could fight it." The same way I did. "I saw it coming..." Guilt would follow him around until the day he died. "But I didn't stop it."

And the door to Dawn's room squeaked open. She stood there, fully dressed in her T-shirt and jeans. Her eyes were big and wide, stark, and her face was far too pale. "What?"

She'd been listening to their conversation, the whole time. She even had a glass still clutched in her hand. That old trick, putting a glass to the door so you could eavesdrop easier...


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She dropped the glass to the floor. It bounced but didn't shatter in the thick carpeting. Dawn lunged toward him and grabbed his arms, holding tight. "What in the hell do you mean, you knew? You saw it coming?" Her nails bit into his skin. "He was going to kill me! You knew and you did nothing?"

Her pain was ripping him apart.

"Tucker? Tucker, say something." But then she shook her head. "No, not something. Say that I'm wrong. Say that you never knew. Say that you never thought your brother would hurt me. Say it."

He was silent, fighting for words.

She let go of him-only to shove her hands against his chest a moment later. A hard, powerful shove. "Damn it! Say that you didn't know! Say that you didn't know he wanted to hurt me so badly!"