“Got it,” the cameraman said and turned his camera toward the emergency personnel loading the woman into the back of the ambulance. He filmed for a solid minute before lowering the device. “Is that all?”
The woman shook her head. “I want to get a statement from the sheriff and ask him what he’s doing to keep the community safe.”
“Obviously, not enough,” the cameraman muttered. “Two dead women were bad enough. Three leads one to believe the killer will keep going until he’s caught.”
Avery shifted her gaze from the reporter and her cameraman to the crowd of people in the middle of the organized chaos, searching for the familiar faces of Agent Bradley and Sheriff Taylor.
“There she is.” Grant pointed at a slim woman wearing a white ball cap, leggings and a loose ponytail. She was deep in a conversation with the sheriff and Melissa Bradley. When her face turned their way, Avery gasped. “She looks like me.”
“And not vaguely. If she let her hair down, she’d be your mirror image.” Grant stared at the woman for a moment and back at Avery. “It’s uncanny.”
Melissa Bradley and Sheriff Taylor seemed to be hanging on the imposter’s every word. How dare she pretend to be an FBI agent? Avery had worked hard to hone her skills and get where she was. How dare this woman steal her identity and take credit for all Avery had achieved? And what lies was she feeding the good people who were doing their best to stop a serial killer from taking yet another victim?
Anger rushed through Avery’s veins. Without thinking, she grabbed for the door handle.
Grant reached over and captured her hand beneath his. “She’s got their attention and their trust. She might not know you’re here. Let’s keep it that way. At least for now. Let’s follow her and see where she leads us.”
Avery’s nostrils flared for a moment. Then she tamped down the fire inside and nodded. “Right. Besides, if I go barging into the middle of them...who are they going to believe? The woman who’s been here, or another who looks like her but has no identification to prove otherwise?” Her eyes narrowed. “They wouldn’t expect a second Agent Hart, but they’re probably wondering where her profiler disappeared to.” Her gaze shifted from the crime scene to Grant.
Grant’s brow rose. “You want me to join them.” It wasn’t a question. He’d always been in tune with the way she thought.
Avery nodded. “Seriously, you should be at the crime scene.”
“Wouldn’t the fake Agent Hart realize I know her game?”
A smile curved Avery’s lips. “Not if you pretend to think she’s me.” Her lips twisted. “It would put her on the spot to keep up her ruse. Besides, I want to know what’s going on. You’d be my mole.”
His brow dipped low. “I don’t like leaving you alone. Not so soon after your accident.”
“I won’t be far.”
“You have no way of contacting me without a cell phone.”
Avery tapped her finger on the steering wheel. “If I’m in trouble, I’ll hit the horn once. People might look up, but one tap could be considered a mistake...someone who leaned on it trying to get out of their vehicle.”
“What if you pass out? You won’t be able to honk the horn.”
“I feel fine, and I want to know what’s going on with my case.” When Grant gave her a look that screamed he wasn’t convinced, she crossed her arms over her chest and stared down her nose at him. “Either you gather the information, or I march up there and demand to know who the hell she thinks she is and arrest her for impersonating a fed.”
He held her gaze for a long moment. Then his ready smile appeared. “You must be feeling better. You’re cranky.”
“I’m not cranky,” she muttered. “Someone has assumed my identity, taken over a serial murder case I should be working, and my ex-husband is giving me grief.” She lifted her chin higher. Then all the indignation left her, making her feel like a deflated balloon. “And my ribs are sore, I have a slight headache, and I want to yank that woman by her damned ponytail until she gives me answers.”
Grant laughed. “Like I said...cranky.” He held up a hand. “And with every right to be so.” His smile faded. “You could’ve died in that car wreck or drowned in the rising water. But you’re here and sassy enough to give me the what-for. Always the job. Always bad guys to put away.” He leaned over the console and kissed the tip of her nose. “And I’ll go see what I can find out, before you decide to slap my face.” He pushed open his door and got out. Leaning back in, he winked. “You’re a good agent, Avery. You care. Now, stay low so no one sees you and puts two and two together.”
She slid low in the passenger seat.
He closed the door and walked to the yellow crime scene tape, stepped over it and headed straight for the trio bent over with their heads together, watching as the emergency personnel opened the back door of the ambulance.
More than anything, Avery wanted to be in that conversation to hear the lies her doppelganger was spreading to get the team to look in all the wrong places.
Her fists clenched in her lap as she stayed low enough not to be noticed, but high enough that she could watch over the dashboard any comings and goings into and out of the cordoned-off area.
Avery looked around the periphery, searching for anyone who might be lurking excitedly, laughing at the clumsy efforts of the law enforcement agencies. He was probably confident he would not be caught and stood basking in his perceived superior intellect, laughing at their pathetic attempt to flush him out.
Well, Avery had news for the killer. Though she was relegated to the background for now, she was on the hunt and wouldn’t stop until the man was behind bars.
Or dead.
