Late that afternoon Olivia and Jack began their uneasy alliance in her office at the university.
"Did you learn anything about Keisha?" she asked right off.
He shook his head. "Nothing concrete."
Olivia looked as if she'd like to say more, but put it aside and folded her hands as she faced Jack across the battered width of her desk. "Tell me about the Latin notes."
"First the basics," Jack said. "Serial killer, four deaths so far that we're sure of. The UNSUB stopped four years ago, and we thought he'd finished, died or was incarcerated." He paused and reached into his briefcase. "Hopefully dead."
"UNSUB?"
"Sorry, criminal code for unknown subject, the person whose identity we don't know. Several weeks ago, we discovered another body similar in M.O. to the first one. M.O., that's modus – "
"Operandi. I know that one." Olivia tapped a forefinger against her temple. "Latin expert, remember?"
"Didn't mean to be condescending."
"Come on, Jack." She flashed that enigmatic expression she'd always had and did the slow blink that was surely unconscious, and which he'd always found intriguing and slightly arousing. Her dark hair glistened in the overhead lighting. The shape of her mouth and the fullness of her lower lip reminded him of their velvet softness against his neck and cheek. Dangerous to go there, he warned himself.
"The notes," Olivia prompted.
He shook himself back to reality. "They came after the first two murders," he began and filled her in on the details.
"And all three notes were penned in Latin?"
He handed her the plastic bag. The notes were inside, arranged back to back. Each side was labeled with date and location in the lower right corner.
She peered curiously at one side and then the other. "'Nunca fidelis,' means – "
"Never faithful," Jack finished, wryly. "Opposite of the Marine Corps motto."
"There are how many murders now?"
"Four." He hesitated, picking his way through the mine field of her worry. "But I need to tell you something."
A quick flash of concern furrowed her brow. "What?"
"Did you know the Bigler County Sheriff is Ben Slater?"
The surprise on her face was genuine. "Our Ben Slater?"
"You didn't know?"
"I just moved from the Bay Area a few months ago. I'm still new to the Sacramento area." Her face lit up with delight. "Slater, here? And sheriff? That's bizarre."
"You haven't kept in touch?"
"No, he went away to college and… well, we lost track of each other, I guess."
"He's helping me on the DLK case," Jack said, watching her reaction, "but he doesn't know I've enlisted your aid, too."
Olivia eyed him cautiously. "Is my involvement a secret?"
"No, but I'd like the three of us to meet at the end of his shift today."
"Why?"
He frowned. "When I visited him this morning, a one eighty-seven call came through dispatch."
"One eighty-seven?"
"It's code for murder."
Her face paled with alarm. "Oh, God, you think it's Keisha?"
"It's too early to worry, Olivia. Slater will let us know as soon as she's identified."
"A woman?"
Jack nodded. "She's probably not your student, and the body's not related to the case."
Olivia touched his hand. Even in that brief moment he was conscious of the roughness of his skin beneath her cool fingers.
"Thanks," she said and he heard the reluctant gratitude in her voice.
Thanks, she'd whispered when they'd made love, that one and only time. After she'd stopped crying and he'd hidden the blood-splotched towel at the bottom of the clothes hamper. After his own tears spilled into her silky raven curls in the same way he'd spilled himself into her young, untried body.
Jack felt himself at the edge of a dangerous precipice, his footing giving way on the slippery slope of memory. His jaw tightened and suddenly he felt like hauling off and punching something. Or someone. The urge to violence unsettled him. He struggled to control the side of his nature that fought to leap out like some bestial Mr. Hyde.
What the hell was he getting himself into?
When Jack and Olivia arrived at the courthouse, she touched his arm briefly. "I want to see Ben alone for a minute." Jack saw by the determined set of her jaw that it wasn't a request.
"All right." He'd allow her this small reunion, he thought, and wandered toward the coffee urn in the corner of the bullpen while she knocked on the closed office door.
All Jack heard was a brusque "Enter," and the soft clicking of the door behind her.
When Slater strode out some fifteen minutes later and waved him into his office, Jack took in the man's sun-darkened face, high with color. Seated in the visitor's chair, Olivia looked… hell, she looked happy, even though tears lay like frozen drops at the edges of her eyes.
He shut down the idea of Livvie and Slater making each other happy, tapped down feelings of jealousy. Slater had always seen Olivia as a kid, a little sister, someone he was honor bound to protect. That wouldn't have changed.
"I got a call from your boss," Slater grumbled, waving Jack toward a padded folding chair, "and I'm about to get another visit from mine. Apparently your organization seems to think they're the only big dogs in the pack."
Jack guessed immediately what'd happened. The Judge had weaved his magic, made the proper contacts, and gotten the official support of the Bigler County District Attorney Charles Barrington. A county D.A. was the sheriff's boss, and Jack sensed that Slater and Barrington had antagonism between them.
Before Slater could sit, his intercom buzzed again.
Connie's throaty voice came over the system. "D.A.'s here, Chief. I put him in the waiting area," she cackled.
Slater smiled thinly. "Make him wait a few minutes and then send him in." He turned to Jack and looked pointedly at Olivia. "You didn't say she was involved in this."
Jack shrugged. "The Invictus Director insisted on her assisting with the case." Not exactly true, but close enough.
At that moment the door swung open and a short man in his late thirties stormed into the office. "I've been waiting." Barrington snarled.
When Jack stood and introduced Olivia and himself, however, Barrington's face turned beatific. He pumped Jack's hand enthusiastically. "We're happy to help the federal government in any way we can, Agent Holt." He threw Olivia a dismissive glance, and she sank back into her chair, an unreadable expression on her face.
"The Organization appreciates your support, Mr. Barrington."
"Great!" The district attorney rubbed his palms together like a chef ready to serve up his specialty. "You have our absolute cooperation, Agent Holt. Anything you want, anything at all, it's yours – deputies, Sheriff Slater, Dr. Gant."
Jack wondered how Olivia liked being a bartered item and caught her rolling her eyes.
Silence reigned for a full minute after Barrington left.
"Okay, Jack," Slater said. "Tell us what we need to know."
Two hours later, Jack had outlined the basic facts of the Dead Language Killer case. With chilling concern Olivia watched him present the details of the murders as if the victims were nothing more than faceless people whose violent deaths were a puzzle for him to solve. She scanned his features for an indication that he had a personal connection with them. The Jack she'd known and loved would've suffered with his victims, but this Jack was a hard, cold man without empathy or compassion. Was this detachment a persona he affected to do his work?
Or had Jack actually turned into this remote, unfeeling man?
"Any questions?" he asked as he concluded.
"I know Charlie Barrington promised heaven and earth for you, Jack," Slater warned, "but the facts are that we're a small county. I don't have that kind of manpower."
"I'll manage." Jack stood and looked at Olivia. "Ah, would you mind stepping outside a moment?"
They wanted to talk about the dead body up at Lake Tahoe, but she wasn't going to let Jack soften the news for her. "No," she answered quietly. "If I'm helping on this case, then I'm in all the way." When Jack looked like he'd argue, she lifted her brows. "All or nothing, Jack."
"All right, then." He turned back to Slater. "Have you formally ID'ed the body at the lake?"
Slater's gaze bounced from Jack to Olivia and back again.
"One of my students is missing," Olivia explained, "and I thought… maybe… " She trailed off. Then she sat down again, expecting the worst kind of blow.
Slater reached for a slender file on his desk. "We used dental records," he said softly, looking at Olivia with tenderness on his rugged face. "A student at Fatima University named Keisha Johnson."
Even though she'd expected it, the words were sharp punches to her stomach. Olivia felt herself pitch forward. Or rather, felt Jack push her head between her knees.
"Steady now," he said, his voice kind too, something she hadn't expected. "Steady."
For no reason she could name, anger replaced grief in an instant. She sat up, batting at his large hand, warm and rough at the back of her neck. "I'm okay. I'm all right."
She stood and swayed, disproving her confident words.
"Like hell you are." Jack shoved her back into her chair, this time none too gently. "Water?" he said to Slater.
But Ben had already rung his assistant and Connie pushed through the door with a paper cup of water. Olivia drank thirstily and then dipped her fingers into the cup, running them across her forehead and down her temples.
Fifteen minutes later, feeling a little better, she hoisted her purse over her shoulder, gave Ben a fierce hug, and walked with Jack to the door. She looked back to catch Slater's serious gray eyes locked on them.
At her side Jack watched her with an intense frown, but whether from concern or irritation, she couldn't tell. She stepped through the metal detectors and out the double doors of the court house, shivering even though the early evening was quite mild.
By the time they reached the parking lot, the street lamps had winked on. Jack walked her to her car. She crossed her arms over her chest and turned to face him. "We should talk."
He dragged his eyes from her lips. "We'll spend more time together on this case than we ever thought possible." He forced a laugh. "We'll be sick of each other by the time we're finished."
"You know that's not what I mean."
"You're right, we need to talk." He rested his arm against the car roof and caught her scent. "Now's just not the right time."
She frowned. "You owe me an explanation. You can't just brush over the facts as if they never happened."
He shook his head impatiently. "Do you even know the facts, Olivia? Do you know what happened graduation night? What happened to Roger Strong?"
Confusion crossed her face. "My stepfather?"
"Yeah, that drunken lump of humanity who made your life hell."
"What's he got to do with it?" She rushed on. "He… mom said he left her." She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. "He just took off and we never heard from him again."
"And your mother was always so reliable," he said sarcastically.
"If you know something I don't, tell me. I've been waiting a long time for the truth."
He wanted to build a barrier between them out of her anger, but he couldn't. Instead he traced a knuckle down her smooth cheek and felt her lean involuntarily into his hand. He breathed deeply as her silky hair brushed against his jaw, feeling the pull of her like a magnet.
"Tell me," she whispered.
He dropped his hand. "Right now we've got to concentrate on the case. Until it's solved, we can't let personal issues get in the way."
She turned away, slid into the driver's seat, and stared over the steering wheel as if the fight had gone out of her. "It feels like we never… finished. Like we need to settle whatever was between us back then."
"We were just kids."
He leaned into the car interior and a breeze blew strands of her hair across his mouth. The urge to touch her was painful. "It didn't mean anything," he lied.
Olivia nodded stiffly. "We were just kids," she repeated and changed the subject. "Where are you staying?"
He stepped back and shifted his briefcase to the other hand. "The Brooksfield off Interstate 80 below Rocklin, but I need to other arrangements."
A primitive force surged through him as he took in her face bathed in the soft glow of the dash. The pure animal attraction was so strong he felt his control slipping. Why did she bring out this… urge in him? She looked so damned appealing with her makeup all gone and her hair tangled in the way that reminded him of how she'd looked that morning.
After they'd…
He was on the verge of doing something stupid when he heard Slater's voice at his back. "Need directions?"
Jack felt an irrational desire to mark the territory around Olivia.
"Why are you being such a tease?" Ted Burrows accused.
The girl hiccupped softly and hunched her shoulders, her face in her hands. "You said a movie. That's all. I thought that's what you meant. Nothing else."
He stared straight ahead through the windshield. "You're acting like a high school kid."
Disgust transformed his handsome face. She'd been so flattered, bragging to her roommates about gorgeous almost-to-be Dr. Burrows. She'd preened around the apartment in her underwear, laughing about how she was going to score big points in Randolph's class because she knew the T.A.
"Like know in the Biblical sense?" Carrie had teased. Her overweight roommate with the big boobs was smart so she didn't have to worry about currying favor to get good grades. Dani had just learned that word, curry, and that it didn't just mean something to do with food.
Ted's face softened a little and he patted her shoulder. "Look, kid, it's okay. Just a misunderstanding. I was thinking one thing." He traced a finger down her bare arm. "And you were talking about something else." He patted the hands clenched tightly on her lap and turned to start the ignition. "No harm, no foul, kid. Don't worry about it."
Dani hated when he called her kid. She dried her tears with the palm of her hand and swiped her finger under her nose. God, she must look awful. She'd worked so hard to dress sexy and sophisticated, the way Ted liked his girls.
Women, she amended.
How was she going to face that smirk on her roommate's face, the superiority she showed whenever Dani asked for help on an assignment? At least Dani had looks and wasn't overweight. Well, not fat anyway like Carrie. And she had great legs, even if she said so herself. Good skin. Pretty hair. She made up her mind.
"Ted, I'm sorry. I just didn't understand." She placed a tentative hand on his arm. "Can we just start all over?" she asked with a bright smile.
"Are you sure? I don't want you changing your mind later when it's… you know, too late. In the heat of the moment, so to speak." Ted grinned the broad, beautiful smile that she loved.
God, he was so beautiful.