Page 74 of Breathe Me In

I shrugged and stood, my body towering over hers as I looked down. I felt my temper build inside me, and I felt dangerously close to the boiling point. I knew I needed to relax. “Bree, stop pushing me away. If this is going to work”—I paused—“as partners, we need to be honest with each other. Starting with this.”

“It’s from him. They’re from him!” she blurted and tossed her hands in the air.

“Him? The Barbed Wire Killer?”

“Yes, at least, I think so.” At her words, a painful, deep chill spread through me, and images from that horrible day broke through my mental barrier. I’d always wondered where the monster had been hiding, but to think he could have been watching her all this time—that thought was enough to make me sick. I opened my mouth to speak, then her words repeated in my head.

“Wait, you said they, as in more than this piece?”

Her fingers twisted the side of her sweater, then she turned and crossed the room. She opened a drawer and took something out, then came back and set six pieces next to the one I had brought.

She slid each piece apart, leaving a space between them. She pointed to each one in turn. “One on the plane itinerary, all four tires at Quantico, and”—she slid the one I brought over—“one left in my mailbox.” Suddenly, her story from the night at the dude ranch campout came screaming back to me. It had been about her.

“Yes.” She seemed to read my mind again. “The trip itinerary story was about me.”

“All right.” I tried to place everything just so in my head.

“Each of these came when I seemed to be faced with a major life decision.”

I studied the pieces, and they all looked clean and were cut the same way, and each had the red-dipped tips. I wondered who else would take the time to screw with her this way. “Do you think it was a message?”

“You’re the detective. You tell me.” She lowered herself onto the arm of the chair.

I closed my eyes and talked myself off the ledge as the logical side of my head kicked in. “Have you considered that someone might be screwing with you? Someone who you may have pissed off, like an ex-boyfriend or client? I mean, a simple internet search on either of our names would give plenty of unstable people a silver platter of ideas on how to hurt us.”

“Of course I thought of that”—she ran a frustrated hand over her face—“but I make a habit of not making enemies, so . . .” She lifted a hand as if to say, Your turn.

“Okay.” I nodded. But my mind spun. As unlikely as the idea might have been, was it possible she could still be watched by him? “I just can’t believe, this whole time . . .” I stopped myself from saying something mean. “Bree, did you tell anyone?”

“I did. I told the local police in Virginia. I even shared the file on the Barbed Wire Killer, but they believed that it was someone at Quantico who wanted to play a trick on me so I’d leave. They said given how well I was doing there, I was a target for that kind of behavior. I even called the detective who was on duty here in Sheffield, and I was dismissed again. He said that there were three murders in Kentucky a few years after the murders here and that though the case had gone cold, the killer most likely was picked up on a different charge and was now sitting in prison.” She tossed her hands in the air. “I got shut down twice and had no one else to tell.”

I stood. “Me, you could have told me. The one person who would have listened and helped.” I took a pause and rewound what she’d said. I had heard of the Kentucky murders, and the lead detective on that case had sent over the paperwork to compare. In my and Cap’s opinion, they had been extremely similar to the BWK cases, and they had never been solved.

She slid off the arm and took a step back like I was too close. “No, you didn’t need that. You had enough going on. I wasn’t going to meddle in your life.”

“It’s not meddling, Bree.” I would have stopped time itself if she had told me she needed me in the past. “This could seriously be something. If this is him, it means he’s still out there and apparently watching you! Doesn’t that scare you at all?”

“Scare me?” She tossed her head back with a dark laugh. “Scared doesn’t even scratch the surface of what my life has been since that godforsaken day.”

I felt my temper rise. “You weren’t the only one there, Bree. You’re not in this alone.” How could she not see that?

“But I am.” Her face fell and twisted into a painful expression. “You had someone, Brad. You had Sherry. I didn’t have anyone, and that’s okay.”

I felt a punch to the gut. How could she think she didn’t have me? We had such a history together and a bond that was unlike anything I’d ever experienced with someone else, Sherry included.

“Back then I couldn’t lean on you, or let you in, when we both knew where that could lead. You and Sherry obviously wanted to start a life, and my being here wasn’t helping.” She stepped back and opened the door, and I felt my heart sink into my gut, already bruised from her earlier comment. “You should leave.”

“Bree, Sherry and I are divorced. We aren’t together anymore.”

“You might be done, but Sherry certainly isn’t.”

I gave a tempered sigh and stood in front of her and took her hand. “Please, I can’t stand the idea that you’ve been dealing with all this for so long, all on your own.” I wish she could hear me.

“Though it might not seem like it right now, Brad, I’m a strong woman and have been dealing with this twisted shit for years. My life is complicated, and so is yours. I just think we should take a beat and see how things go after we solve this case. I don’t want to fight. I just want to sleep.”

I squeezed my eyes shut in frustration. “I don’t want to fight either.” I softened my voice. “For the record you’re an amazingly strong woman, Bree. Strongest I’ve met yet. I’m sorry that Sherry got to you. She’s been a fucking pain in my ass lately.” I leaned forward and liked that she didn’t pull away. “If you want to take a beat, fine, but know I’m not letting you go that easily.” I kissed her cheek. “I’m going to leave now.” I stepped out into the cold and headed for my car. Now wasn’t the time to push Bree. She was exhausted, and so was I.

I crashed at my parents’ house. I needed time to think about how I could get Bree to see things the way I did. I must have slept the day away because the next thing I remembered was Ronnie smacking my leg from the other side of the couch. “Don’t you need to get to work at all today?” He held a plate of food and stuffed a piece of steak in his mouth.