Chapter 4 #2
Hayes had always been a good sailor. He’d followed orders and implemented plans.
While he’d been good at thinking on his feet and hadn’t needed to be told what to do, he hadn’t been the kind of man who would ever be in charge, and he’d been okay with that.
However, sometimes, he’d struggled with assessing certain situations and making decisions.
If it hadn’t required immediate action, he’d sought input from his team leader or brothers-in-arms.
Staring at Chloe, he realized he was out of his element.
Hayes knew what to do when a building was on fire, but he hadn’t a clue as to how to handle a woman who’d wormed her way under his skin.
That hadn’t happened in years, and this was exactly the kind of situation that called for insight from Dawson.
She sucked in a deep breath and sighed. “I know I said this last night, but it’s worth repeating.” She glanced up. “I’m sorry I lied to you about being lead on this case.”
“For the life of me, I can’t figure out why you’d do that. It makes no sense. It’s not like I would’ve judged or cared.”
“I’d like to explain, but I need you to do me a favor and be quiet while I do.” She held up her hand. “No interruptions and no questions until I’m done. Can you do that?”
“You know I’m a good listener.”
“You can be.” She dug her hand into her computer bag and pulled out a file, pushing it across the counter, but left her hand on top of it. “When I was a junior in college, my twin sister?—”
“You have a sister?” He jerked his head as his heart dropped to the center of his gut.
His lungs burned as he sucked in a deep breath.
“A twin?” The word rattled around in his brain.
The memories of Max came in fuzzy flashes, like they often did.
He’d been so young, and while the day Max had passed was vivid and in full color, the rest of those memories were more like old, faded pictures.
“What happened to being a good listener?”
“Please…continue.” He waved his hand. A million questions burned through his mind, and he tried to categorize them, but it became impossible with the past colliding with his present.
She flipped open the file. “My sister, Heather, was murdered?—”
“Jesus, Chloe. Why didn’t you tell me?” He grabbed the folder and thumbed through a few pages, staring at the image of a young woman with lighter hair than Chloe’s. This woman, Heather, had golden eyes, which oddly reminded him of Fedora’s honey-colored eyes.
He glanced between the image and Chloe. Her eyes were deeper.
More of a dark chocolate. She and her sister shared the same lips and cheek structure, making it apparent that they were sisters.
“You weren’t identical.” That distinction wouldn’t usually matter, but considering the similarities in their lives, he voiced it out loud.
“No.” Chloe sighed, slumping her shoulders. Tears welled in her eyes. These were all things that Chloe never did. Normally, she was a strong, confident woman whom he realized he knew nothing about. “And I didn’t tell you because The Ring Finger Killer murdered her.”
Hayes closed his eyes as all the air in his lungs flew out like the water spewing from a fire hose, fast and furious.
His heart thumped in his chest. While he didn’t agree with her decision to lie by omission, he could understand how it had happened, and he didn’t hold it against her.
She’d used her position to gain information.
It might have been wrong, but if it were him, he would have hands down done the same thing, no question.
He blinked, sucking in a deep breath and checking his frustration. “How many years ago was that, and when did you put it all together with this killer?”
“She died thirteen years ago, and we didn’t even have a name for this guy until two years ago.
” She sipped her coffee before picking at her food, taking a small bite as if to contemplate her next words.
He’d seen her do this before when she’d been discussing a case with him—or Dawson—and she needed a moment to sort through her thoughts.
“It’s been a long, hard road because we only have seven murders we can tie to him, including my sister, and it spans almost thirty-five years.
The brass is treading very lightly on this because of the lack of bodies, evidence, and any real profile or victimology. ”
“I’m not a cop, and I don’t have Dawson’s brain, but how is it possible to have a serial killer over that many years with so few bodies?”
She held Hayes’s gaze. “It’s been a dance with the brass, but because of the missing finger on the seven bodies we do have, and a few other things, the brass has given us some leeway.
” She lowered her chin. “However, we’ve got some problems. For example, we don’t have much to go on with crime scenes because we don’t have many.
Creating a profile has been a nightmare, and we’re unsure if we’re on the right track.
We wondered if I possibly fit the victimology, but as we worked through what little information we had on the cases, we realized that I didn’t. ”
Hayes pounded his chest, coughing. “So, the FBI knows about your sister.”
She nodded. “But I kept that information from them when I entered Quantico and applied for the Violent Crimes Unit. My last name is different, so it wasn’t all that hard at first.”
“Why do you have different names?”
“I was married.”
“You’re full of surprises.” He thumbed through the file, not really reading the words on the pages, but rather scanning the big-picture details while he digested that juicy detail and dialed down the pang of jealousy that he had no right feeling.
Their relationship had always been temporary, and just because he hadn’t been ready to walk away didn’t mean he had any reason to be mad over omitted facts about her past love life.
It wasn’t like he’d blabbered all about his.
“For how long?” he asked, as if that were the most normal question.
“About two years. We met when I was in law school, and he was there while I went through FBI training. However, we were doomed right from the start because I was more focused on using my career to catch Heather’s killer than being in a loving relationship.
I put that before him, and it caused a lot of problems. I should’ve seen how bad things were right from the start, because when I came out of Quantico, I was tagged for the Violent Crimes Unit.
I was all set to work in the field that would gain me the most access to my sister’s killer, but someone found out about Heather, told the brass, and my career trajectory changed.
I was pissed. I expected Nick to be on my side, but he thought it was for the best.”
“Not to be a total asshole, but you know he’s right.
” Hayes rubbed his temple. As much as it frustrated him that she’d chosen not to tell him these important little nuggets about her life, she knew nothing of his, including that he too had a twin—who had died—as well as numerous other things about his past, and if he wanted this fling to continue, he had to meet her halfway.
Even if they never got back together—if they’d even been together to begin with—he did consider her a friend, and that meant something.
Besides, she’d need support while she was forced to the sidelines, and he could be that guy.
He was always that guy.
She nodded. “I get that, but he could’ve been more empathetic instead of telling me to put away all my files and let someone else look for my sister’s killer.”
Hayes pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s not in your nature to step aside, and he should’ve understood that you could never truly do nothing, even if you couldn’t have been the one actively running the case.”
She opened and closed her mouth three times before clearing her throat and saying, “Thank you for that.”
He shrugged. “I understand how demanding careers can be in the middle of relationships. I was a Navy SEAL, and for many, that means love is either something that’s most likely doomed, as you put it, or requires two incredibly unique people.
Being an FBI agent, no matter the department, is a demanding one. ”
“Nick and my parents don’t believe I would’ve become an agent had Heather not been murdered.
At the time of her death, I was pre-law and considering a career as a prosecutor.
But whatever I did, it was always going to be in law enforcement.
Either way, I’ve been obsessed with this my entire adult life.
” She brushed a tear away, a rare display of emotion.
“I blame myself for what happened to Heather.”
Hayes set the folder aside. He could stare at it, read it, and probably get the intel he needed. But at the end of the day, he’d rather hear everything right from Chloe. He inched closer, resting his elbows on the counter. “I understand how that goes. I blame myself for a plethora of things.”
“You can’t do that.” She shook her head. “Missions are different.”
“Outside of Ken, that’s not what I’m talking about.
” He sighed, wondering how he could transition this conversation without making it all about himself, but if he wanted to be with her, this had to be a give-and-take.
“I owe you an apology because, while I was more hurt than mad about you not being honest with me about your job, I haven’t been any better about my life, and I’d like for us to start over. ”
She cocked her head, and her eyes went wide. “Start over? I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I’m not in a good head space for a relationship, and you don’t do them.”