Page 3 of Counter Attack

She hoped one of her colleagues snapped a photo of him because he’d just gone to the top of her list of possibilities. As an undercover cop, she’d seen the worst of the worst. Rarely did they come packaged as nicely as “Reggie.”

No one had taken her seat at the bar and she reclaimed it, almost tempted to take a sip of the drink she’d left behind. She knew better, though; someone could have slipped something in it, and she needed a clear head in case the killer was trolling for his next victim. His pattern was a kill every three months, and it’d been almost three months since the last murder.

None of the victims had lived to tell how they made contact with their murderer, but for the first three, who were prostitutes, contact probably had been easy. For the last two, the connection to the bar was strong. According to a statement given by the Lemon Tree bartender, who was a lot more helpful than the owner, on the nights the women were murdered, each woman had shown up at the bar without an escort, and they’d left alone. Perhaps they’d encountered Reggie and turned him down, and he hadn’t liked that.

The medical examiner had placed the time of death for those two women between 11:00 p.m. and 1:00 a.m. The killer could’ve followed the victims home and forced his way in ... except none of the murder sites showed forcible entry.

Did he catch up to each victim as she arrived home and use the weapon he eventually committed the murder with to force them to open the door? Or perhaps, remembering him from the bar, had they invited him in?

Alex checked her watch. Eleven. Unless someone followed her from the bar, tonight was a bust and she might as well leave. Since the Lemon Tree was the only connection the homicide detectives had found between the last two women, she’d be back tomorrow night. And the next, hoping the killer made a move on her.

She texted the two undercover officers shadowing her that she was leaving.

Give me five minutes before following.

Too long.

She gritted her teeth. Parker and Watkins were being too protective.

No, it isn’t. And don’t leave together.

Their killer wasn’t stupid. He had to figure the police had made the connection to the bar, and if he’d chosen her as his next victim, he would wait to make sure she wasn’t bait. Two men leaving at the same time screamed they were cops and that it was a setup.

She slipped her phone into her bag and climbed off the barstool just as a man bumped into her.

“I’m so sorry,” he said.

“No problem.” She looked up in the dimly lit room, and the smile on her face froze as her past stood in front of her.

“Alexis?” The man stared wide-eyed at her.

For a second the years fell away as she stared into the blue eyes that belonged to her high school crush. Alex worked tokeep her expression from matching Nathan Landry’s dropped jaw. Several thoughts ran through her mind, the main one being she couldn’t let him blow her cover. “You must have me confused with someone else,” she said, her voice blunt.

His gaze swept her from head to foot, and she tugged the hem of the short skirt, acutely aware of how she must look in clothes she’d never be caught dead wearing back home.

Slowly Nathan nodded. “Yes, I guess I do have you confused with someone else.” He tipped his head. “Have a good evening, ma’am.”

She frowned as Nathan picked up the drink he’d ordered and walked toward the tables at the back of the bar. Alex had never known him to drink alcoholic beverages. What was he doing in Chattanooga, in this bar, tonight of all nights? Why wasn’t the Pearl Springs chief of police watching after its citizens? Not that the small Tennessee town had much crime. And “ma’am”? Really?

She stepped away from the bar stool, her gaze following him. Evidently, Nathan was alone. And he looked as good as ever. Fit and extremely sexy with a five o’clock shadow covering his strong jaw.

He looked her way. Busted. She quickly shifted her gaze to the other side of the room. What was wrong with her, anyway? Why was she even taking notice of how he looked after the way they’d ended things? Alex clenched her jaw, remembering how he’d cheated her out of capturing the honor of valedictorian their senior year of high school.

She lifted her chin. There were more important things to think about than a silly romance she’d had as a teenager, even if it had broken her heart. Like finding justice for the five women who’d been murdered.

Alex gave a slight nod to the officer at the end of the bar as she reached for her purse. Then she sauntered out the door.If she walked slow enough—which wouldn’t be hard in three-inch heels—Watkins and Parker would soon catch up with her. She wanted to live long enough to enjoy the promotion to homicide she expected to receive any day now.

At the last minute, she glanced back to see where Nathan was. She frowned. He was sitting at Reggie’s table, except there was no sign of Reggie.

4

Nathan sipped the Arnold Palmer he’d ordered and set it down in front of him. From the way Alexis had jerked her head in a different direction when he’d turned to look back at her, it was apparent she’d watched him walk to his table. Was it possible she still felt something for him? Something other than contempt? In his dreams.

He’d quickly caught on that she was working undercover, because he’d never known Alexis Stone to dress in anything so revealing. Of course, maybe she’d changed over the years—he rarely saw her, and the only news he heard about his high school sweetheart came from her grandparents. Nathan winced. Her grandmother would have a fit if she saw the outfit Alexis wore tonight.

He studied her as she scanned the other side of the bar. Working undercover was basically lying, and the girl he’d known in high school couldn’t lie. It just wasn’t in her. Everything was mostly black or white with precious little gray in between.

So, what had happened to make her compromise her values?

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