Dakota Meltdown

Chapter Five

Brenna trailed behind Agent Tarver as he entered the Riverton police station’s conference room.

He hadn’t stopped to strip his jacket, performing this function on the go as he crossed to the whiteboard.

Notes had been added to indicate the location where the first victim’s body had been discovered.

The recurring image of the frozen woman floating at the bottom of two feet of ice wouldn’t be erased from Brenna’s mind any time soon.

“Any news on Olsen?” Nick asked.

“The police haven’t been able to put a finger on him yet.” Paul sat at the computer in the corner with his back to the room, pounding away at the keys. “He’s not where he’s supposed to be and no one’s seen him.”

When Brenna entered the room, she felt the heat of Nick’s gaze following her as she circled the table and stopped in front of the whiteboard covering the east wall.

Melissa perched on the edge of the conference table, a clipboard and pencil in her hands. “We got the list of Special Agent Jensen’s convictions from Bismarck.” She dipped her head toward Brenna. “Impressive. Paul’s running a scan to see if any of them are out on parole and if so, whether or not they’re in this area.”

“I should have a cross match in the next two or three minutes,” Paul said over his shoulder without looking up.

“I’m going to get some coffee.” Nick glanced at Brenna. “Want some?”

She shook her head.

When Nick left the room, Melissa’s gaze darted from Brenna to the empty doorway. “Did you see that, Paul?”

“With my back to the room? Uh, no.” His fingers didn’t slow on the keyboard.

“The great Agent Tarver actually asked someone if they wanted coffee.”

“Is that unusual?” Brenna asked.

“For anyone else, no. For Nick, hell yeah.”

“Our man Nick is known for his dedication to the job,” Paul explained.

“Dedication, hell.” Melissa snorted. “He is the job.”

Brenna didn’t like talking about the man while he wasn’t in the room to defend himself. She feigned interest in the documents scattered across the table and, without looking up, said, “I don’t know what you mean.”

Melissa stared down at the list in her hands, a smile playing around the corners of her mouth. “Ever since Nick’s divorce, he’s been a driven man.”

So, Nick Tarver had been married? Brenna wasn’t surprised. A man with such a wicked combination of black hair and deep green eyes couldn’t stay single long.

“For the past two years, he hasn’t stopped to consider others need food, sleep or even coffee.” Melissa tapped her pencil on the clipboard.

“Until today.” Paul looked around and stared at Brenna as if seeing her for the first time. His eyes narrowed. “Until you.”

“Think the ice is cracking on Nicky?” Melissa tilted her head to the side as her gaze wandered over Brenna.

Brenna squirmed beneath the intensity of their perusal. As if Nick Tarver had any interest in her! She was a criminal investigator, not her sister of the golden-blond-cheerleader perfection. What would he see in her?

Nothing.

“I don’t know. Might be too soon to tell.” With a shrug, Paul turned back to the monitor. “But my money’s on Special Agent Jensen.”

Melissa pushed away from the table and brushed past Brenna. “I’d keep my eye on him if I were you, sweetie. Nick can blow hot and cold in a matter of seconds.”

Melissa didn’t have to waste her breath. Brenna already knew Nick was trouble. The only difficulty would be within herself. The FBI agent would never fall for a woman like her. But any woman could fall for a guy like him.

Not Brenna. She knew better. Nick was strictly a hit-and-run kinda guy. Having survived a past hit-and-run relationship, Brenna was in no hurry to step out in front of a speeding car again.

“Got it.” Paul hit a button on the keyboard and jumped up to stand in front of a printer. “The list I’m printing is a cross reference between all of Brenna’s convictions and those parolees within a two-hundred-mile radius.”

With a long leg swinging back and forth beneath the conference table, Melissa asked, “Did you need to go out that far?”

“We’re in North Dakota, Melissa, not Virginia. People are used to driving long distances to get to little pockets of civilization out here.” The printer spit out four copies of the report. Paul kept one and laid the others on the table.

Nick entered the room, the aroma of coffee filling the air. He leaned close to Brenna and lifted a copy of Paul’s report.

The combination of the coffee and the fresh, outside scent of Nick made Brenna fidgety. She lifted her copy of the report and moved to the far corner of the room. Away from Nick. Then she forced herself to study the page in front of her.

“Most of these people live in Bismarck, Minot or Fargo,” she said.

“There’s our local, Bart Olsen.” Paul pointed near the bottom of the page.

“None of them jumps out.” Brenna tapped the list against her palm. “I’m going by Dr. Drummond’s office to see if any of these names match current or past patients.” She headed for the door, hoping Agent Tarver wouldn’t volunteer to go with her. She needed distance from the man.

Nick stared at her with narrowed eyes. “Paul, go with her.”

“Yes, sir!” Paul leaped to attention, a grin filling his face. “Come on, Jensen, I have my orders.”

As she stepped from the war room, a bit of the weight she’d felt bearing down on her lifted. At least with Nick out of the way she wouldn’t be thinking about him. He was too much of a distraction when she had a killer to nail.

“On second thought, I’ll go with her.” Nick stepped up behind Brenna and assisted her as she pushed her arms into her jacket.

Paul gave her a lopsided grin. “Maybe next time.”

AS NICK STEPPED THROUGH the door to Dr. Drummond’s office, he shrugged out of his jacket, his senses on alert. A light scent of potpourri filled the air, much better than the acrid aroma of disinfectant he expected in a doctor’s office. But then Dr. Drummond was a psychiatrist.

Brenna led the way into the doctor’s waiting room, stripping her jacket from her shoulders. “Hello, Mrs. Keckler,” she said to the woman behind the counter.

“Brenna Jensen? Is that you? Oh, my Lord, it’s so good to see you!” The older woman hopped out of her seat and came through the door to hug Brenna. “Or should I call you Agent Jensen? It’s been a long time.”

Why did Jensen know the receptionist in a psychiatrist’s office so well? Were they old family friends or was there something more to the relationship? Was Brenna a former patient?

“I’m sorry it’s under these circumstances.” Brenna returned the hug and stepped back quickly, her movements jerky. “This is FBI Agent Nick Tarver.”

“Nice to meet you.” The older woman shook his hand and then turned back to Brenna. “I heard they found the doctor’s body—” Her voice cracked. She snatched a tissue from a box on the counter and dabbed at her eyes. “We’re all still in shock. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt Dr. Drummond. Who would do this?”

Smoothing a hand over the woman’s shoulders, Brenna said, “Actually, that’s why we’re here. We need to check the patient files.”

“Do you think it was one of her patients?” Mrs. Keckler twisted her hands together. “Oh my. How awful.”

“We don’t know,” Brenna said softly. “It would help to see the files.”

Mrs. Keckler sniffed and shook her head. “I can’t. What with doctor-patient confidentiality laws and all, my hands are tied.” She sank onto a nearby chair. “Just to think it might be one of her patients makes me positively ill. If it were up to me, I’d give you every last file.”

“We understand and we’re not asking you to break the law.” Nick knew how important it was to obtain evidence legally. Too many criminals walked because of sloppy investigative techniques. “What we need is for you to do a cross-check of a list of names we have with the patients in your files.”

“I can do that.” Mrs. Keckler took the list Brenna held out and ducked back into the inner office to sit at a desk with a computer.

In the ensuing silence, Jensen stood with her back to Nick.

“How well did you know Dr. Drummond?” Nick asked.

Her shoulders stiffened. “Fairly well,” she said, her words clipped, not inviting further probing.

That didn’t stop Nick. Brenna was holding something back. If it had anything to do with the case, he wanted to know. “Friend of the family?”

“Not really.”

Nick laid a hand on her shoulder and turned her to face him, his fingers holding her upper arms in a vise grip. “I need to know everything, Agent Jensen. If you had a connection with Dr. Drummond, tell me. It could be vital to solving this case.”

She refused to look into his eyes, focusing instead on something over his shoulder. “I used to come here,” she mumbled. Then her gaze leaped to his. “I used to be one of Dr. Drummond’s patients. Okay?”

His gut tightening, Nick loosened his hold on her arms. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“It’s not something I advertise. How would it look for a criminal investigator to have a mental health history?”

“There’s nothing wrong with seeing a psychiatrist.”

She snorted. “Tell it to the reporters and the security-clearance guys who love to jump to conclusions.”

“Look, it’s just another piece of the puzzle.” He drew a deep breath and held it a moment before he blew it out. “Promise me you won’t keep anything else from me. I need to know I can trust the members of my team.”

She sighed, her shoulders sagging. “Okay, I’ll tell you what I know.”

Nick waited, but the silence lengthened. “Well?”

“I don’t know anything else right now. When I do, I’ll be sure to report it to you.” She glanced down at his hands on her arms and back up to his eyes. “Now, if you don’t mind…”

Nick dropped his hands and stepped back, at the same moment Mrs. Keckler returned.

“I checked all the files and none of them matches the names on this list.” Mrs. Keckler handed the sheet of paper back to Brenna. “I’m sorry. If you have reason to suspect one of the patients, you can get a warrant and I’ll release that patient’s information, but I can’t just let you go through the files.”

“Thanks anyway, Mrs. Keckler.” Brenna hugged the woman and left the office.

Nick followed, stepping over a stream of melted snow to climb into the passenger side of the Cherokee.

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