Disarming Detective. Elizabeth Heiter

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      “I came straight from the airport. And you weren’t the first profiler I harassed in the parking lot. You’re just the first one who succumbed to my charm.”

      Ella snorted. The agent out the door before her had been Jack Reid, perpetually in a foul mood and perpetually using a foul mouth. “You mean Jack didn’t invite you out to dinner?”

      “Well, he invited me to do something. But it sounded anatomically impossible.”

      “Probably a come-on,” Ella joked, then feigned hurt as she stuffed another fry, heavily coated with ketchup, in her mouth. “So, you’re telling me I wasn’t your first choice?”

      Logan’s gaze shifted appreciatively over her, lingering on her mouth. Then he gave her steady eye contact, let her see an interest that went beyond the case. “Believe me, if I’d known you were coming, I would have waited.”

      Ella rolled her eyes, even as she willed her cheeks not to heat. This never happened to her, this instant, powerful lure to a man she’d just met, let alone to one she’d just pulled a gun on. “I was trying to get caught up on some work before I left town.” She held out a hand, palm up. Back to business. “You have a case file?”

      He set a thin manila folder in her palm, his big calloused hand brushing hers. “Where are you going?”

      “Vacation with some friends. I plan to sit on the beach and do nothing more strenuous than put on sunscreen.” Of course, that would last about a day and then she’d be searching for kayak rentals or somewhere to take surfing lessons. Sitting still wasn’t her strong suit.

      “I don’t suppose you’re coming to Florida? Because I’m willing to help you out with the sunscreen.”

      One of the cases in the trunk of her car—the only one she hadn’t actually been assigned—was from Florida. No, she and her two best friends were heading as far from Florida as possible. “California, actually.”

      “Too bad. Other than the recent murder, Oakville is a pretty nice place to visit.”

      Ella blinked, so surprised to hear real disappointment in his tone that she almost missed the part about the case. “Wait a minute. Murder? Not murders?” No wonder her boss hadn’t assigned an agent to create a profile. Well, this was going to be a quick dinner. At least she’d be able to put Logan’s mind at ease and hopefully point him in the right direction. One kill probably meant the perpetrator had been in the victim’s life.

      “Yeah, I know. One murder doesn’t make a serial killer. I get it.” He leaned forward. “But look at the file, okay? This isn’t a first kill. We got lucky, finding this body. There are more. I’m sure of it.”

      “Why?”

      “The kill was too perfect. I don’t think it was someone she knew, and the evidence is so slim. The fact that we even have a body—that we even know she’s dead—is a fluke. We don’t have a lot of murders in Oakville, but a killer just doesn’t get that good without practice.”

      Logan frowned. The attraction he’d been broadcasting since they’d arrived at the diner was still in his eyes, but now it was tempered, pushed behind a sudden seriousness telling her he’d do whatever it took to find this killer.

      Ella didn’t need to see him work to believe it. She knew he was a good detective. It was there in the doggedness of his stare, in the trust he put in his instincts, in the way he was chasing this lead with all he had.

      But she also saw this was more than just another case to him. He’d flown all this way for help, probably on his own dime. “You knew the victim, didn’t you?”

      “Jeez, you’re good. I didn’t know her well. But she was a friend of my sister’s. Visiting from out of state. She’d actually left for the airport and we assumed she was back home.” His lips tightened into a hard, thin line. “When all along, she was in Oakville. We found her in the marsh. Well, what was left of her anyway. We’ve got gators in the marshes, which is why I say we got lucky. Why I think there are more victims—because that’s a pretty genius way to destroy evidence.”

      Ella nodded, flipping open the file folder next to her sandwich. The sight that greeted her should have made her lose her appetite, but she’d long ago learned to eat while reviewing case files. “Doesn’t look like you had much to work with at the autopsy.”

      When she glanced up at Logan, he was carefully not looking at the photo and she reminded herself he knew the woman. She flipped past the autopsy photos, folded her hands under her chin and leaned toward him. “Why don’t you give me the highlights?”

      Logan raked a hand through his dark, close-cropped hair and she noticed the shadows under his eyes, the weariness lurking underneath those quick smiles.

      “The victim was Theresa Crowley. My sister’s age—twenty-five.”

      She must have looked surprised, because he said, “Yeah, Becky’s ten years younger than I am. My parents didn’t think they could have any more kids after me. Anyway, Theresa was a friend of Becky’s from college. She lived in Arkansas. Flew in to visit for a week. She left as scheduled and my sister assumed she was already home until we identified the body.”

      “Who found her?”

      “Local fisherman. He pulled out the remains and brought her in by boat.”

      Ella realized she was gaping as Logan continued, “Yeah, I know. Not great for evidence, but better than not having a body at all because the alligators finished her off.”

      “How long was she missing?”

      “She left for the airport early Sunday morning and her body was found Monday afternoon.”

      “Short window to run into a killer.”

      “Unless he’d already been stalking her,” Logan argued.

      “What makes you think it wasn’t someone she knew? Statistically, that’s much more likely.”

      “Yeah, believe me, I don’t run to the FBI every time we get a murder, whether or not I know the victim. But who did she know in Oakville? My sister and some of our family. That’s it. Her rental car turned up the next day, abandoned in a mall parking lot a few towns over, in the opposite direction from the airport.”

      Ella sighed and set down her milkshake. “Are you sure you should be on this case?”

      “Why? Because my family are obvious suspects?”

      Instead of agreeing, Ella said, “Because you knew her.”

      “Another detective on the force already cleared my family. It was pretty easy. We were at a town function at her time of death.”

      Ella stared at him, looking for any tiny twitch that would tell her he knew—or suspected—his family could be involved. All she saw was his determination to get her to help. And that heavy dose of attraction. Her heart rate picked up and she glanced down at her food before she gave anything away. “She have any obvious enemies?”

      “Stalker exes, that kind of thing? No.”

      “Sexual assault?”

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