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Dakota Meltdown. Elle JamesЧитать онлайн книгу.

Dakota Meltdown - Elle James


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as the chief entered and Brenna followed. As she passed close enough to touch him, Nick caught the scents of herbal shampoo and fresh snow.

      A strange combination of winter and spring. The unbidden impression formed in his mind from just that little whiff, and he brushed it aside. Too much detail about a witness he had no intention of keeping on his team.

      Once they were inside the interview room, Nick Tarver closed the door, shutting them in and himself out. He moved down the hall and stepped into the observation room to watch and listen to the interview through the two-way mirror.

      Stark and plain, the room was basically empty, with only a heavy metal table and two folding chairs in the middle of the floor. A single, uncovered lightbulb provided enough light to illuminate all four corners.

      Brenna circled the room and stopped to stare into the mirror. “Hey, Agent Tarver, can you hear me? ’Cause I don’t want to repeat myself later.”

      He fought a sudden urge to chuckle. The woman was annoying, but ballsy.

      Chief Burkholder waved toward a chair. “Have a seat, Special Agent Jensen.” Gone was the surrogate-father figure and in his place was the professional police officer.

      She set her satchel on the floor and pulled out a photocopy of the note she’d received. “I suppose you’d like to see the copy of the note and the envelope.”

      He took the paper and shot a brief glance at it before setting it to one side of the table. “Let’s start at the beginning. Your full name.”

      “You know me, Chief.” She glared at the mirror, her fingers tapping a rhythm on the tabletop.

      She was impatient and possibly a bit nervous knowing Nick was watching her. He sat in a chair and crossed his arms over his chest. Good. Make her sweat. He was glad he’d chosen to watch instead of interrogate. This way he could study her openly.

      The chief’s lips twisted in a wry grin. “For the record, please. You know the drill.”

      With a sigh, she quit staring at the mirrored wall and stated, “Brenna Louise Jensen.”

      “Occupation—special agent for the North Dakota Bureau of Criminal Investigations?”

      “That’s right.” She shot a defiant look at the mirror.

      So, she was a criminal investigator. It didn’t mean she’d work with him.

      The older man wrote on a tablet and then looked up at her. “Tell me what happened.”

      “I found this letter in the mailbox at my town house when I got home from work on Friday.”

      Chief Burkholder sat up straight, his pen poised in midair. “Not at work, but at home?”

      Nick leaned forward. That was news. He’d assumed she’d gotten it at her office. So the kidnapper knew where she lived.

      “Right.”

      “And there were no prints?” They knew there weren’t any, but the chief had to put it in the record.

      “No.”

      “Where was the letter postmarked?” he asked.

      “Riverton Post Office.” She sighed. “That’s why I’m here.”

      “In your line of work, have you been assigned to cases involving violent criminals?”

      Her chin rose as if challenging the man behind the wall. “Yeah. That’s my job.”

      The chief scribbled her answers on the notepad before he looked up again. “And Riverton’s your hometown, isn’t it?”

      “Yes, sir,” she stated. “It’s where I grew up.”

      The chief continued. “Has anyone from Riverton ever threatened you?”

      “No,” she said, her fingers drumming against the tabletop.

      “Were you ever involved in an incident that would make someone consider you a threat?”

      Her hand stilled. “Other than my casework?”

      “Correct.”

      She hesitated, darting another glance at the mirror as she tucked a long strand of hair behind her ear. “No.”

      Was the hair-flicking a nervous gesture? Was she not telling the chief something? Nick’s gut said yes. What secrets could a criminal investigator have?

      Chief Burkholder continued the questioning without delving into her answer. If Nick had conducted the interview, he’d have questioned her further. But she was a cop and probably didn’t think the information was relevant to the case.

      When the interview was over, Brenna stood and gathered her satchel and the copy of her note. “Now can we get on with solving this case?”

      “Eager, aren’t we?” The chief patted her shoulder. “Come on, I’ll show you where they’ve set up.”

      Nick left the observation room ahead of Brenna and the chief and beat them to the large conference room. It had been converted to a “war room.” Completely covering one wall was a large whiteboard with a time line sketched out in black erasable marker. Three notches were marked with the names of the missing women and the times they’d been reported missing. Another spot was marked Note.

      Now that he had Brenna’s statement, she wasn’t necessary to the case and Nick wanted her out of the station and on her way back to Bismarck.

      Although she was another key to solving the case, Nick had no intention of allowing her onto his team. He liked to work with people he knew and trusted. Get in, solve the crime, get out and don’t get involved. That was Nick’s policy and he sure as hell didn’t want to be in this godforsaken, frigid country any longer than he had to. He braced himself for the coming clash of wills with Special Agent Jensen.

      The woman topmost on his mind breezed into the war room and tossed her satchel onto the conference table as if throwing down the gauntlet.

      Chief Burkholder handed Nick the copy of the note he’d already seen on a blurry faxed copy they’d received around four that morning while Jensen had been en route.

      Nick laid the paper on the table and walked over to Brenna. No time like the present. “Thank you for your statement, Special Agent Jensen. We no longer need your services. I advise you to return to Bismarck and lock your doors.”

      She stared up into his face for a long moment, her rate of breathing increasing until the air she exhaled blew in a sharp stream out her nose. Then she stepped closer to him, until her chest bumped against his. “I’m an experienced investigator assigned to this case by the state of North Dakota. I’m not running from some jerk who thinks he can pull my chain.”

      “Agent Tarver,” Chief Burkholder said and then cleared his throat. “Jensen is one of North Dakota’s best.”

      “I don’t care.” Tarver’s eyes never left her face, and his expression remained unbending. “She’s a liability. I can’t focus on the case if I’m playing bodyguard.”

      Her face flushed red. “I don’t need your protection. I’ve been in law enforcement for six years. I can take care of myself.”

      That she hadn’t backed down impressed him at the same time as it annoyed him. “In case you haven’t gotten the picture, the FBI has jurisdiction and is calling the shots now. You’re off the case.”

      “Understand this, Agent Tarver. I will be involved fully in this case, with or without the FBI. I have more at stake here than you or any of your agents. This is my hometown, not yours. Nobody gets away with kidnapping or murder in my hometown.”

      “Agent Tarver, Special Agent Jensen is assigned from the state level. She won’t be returning to Bismarck. If you don’t include her on the team, she’ll be working by herself to solve this case. You’d better serve the cause by including her.” Chief


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