“Is that where he’s from?”
“Somewhere around there. I think his parents lived at Cranebrook. Seems like they disowned him years ago.”
“They should have drowned him at birth and done us all a favor.”
“You won’t get any arguments from me, babe.”
She tensed and her eyes widened on his momentarily before she looked away. A faint blush stole into her cheeks.
His heart accelerated and he cleared his throat, casting around for something to say. “Are you up for paying Peterson a visit this afternoon?”
Suddenly, she turned on him. “I want to hear your take on all this. After all, that’s what you’re here for, isn’t it? To give us some idea about who this monster is?”
Her cheeks were flushed and her breath came fast. Clayton looked away and gave her time to compose herself.
“I take it you don’t think Peterson could have done it?” he murmured.
Frustration rolled off her in waves. “How the hell do I know? You’re the expert. That’s why they pay you the big bucks.”
Clayton forced himself to remain calm. The tone of his voice belied his inner turmoil when he said, “You’re right. And I wouldn’t want you to think you’re not getting your money’s worth.”
He ignored the narrowing of her eyes and the glare she shot his way. She was gorgeous when she was all fired up. Hell, she was gorgeous anytime.
“Does Peterson fit the profile?”
“Yes.”
Temper flared in her eyes. “So, you’ve put something together and haven’t even bothered sharing it with the rest of us.”
Anger seared through him at her inference. “You think I care more about my ego than I do about putting away an animal that doesn’t even deserve to share the oxygen on this planet? Is that what you’re trying to say?”
She had the grace to look embarrassed and lowered her eyes to concentrate on the stapler that sat on the end of his desk. “I’m sorry; I was out of line,” she mumbled.
Clayton tugged loose his tie, frustration making his fingers clumsy. “The truth is, I have prepared a profile—well, a rough one, anyway. I haven’t shared it with anyone because I only put it together late last night. You’ve only just arrived for the day. I thought you’d be upset if I started without you.”
Her cheeks flushed crimson. A spurt of satisfaction pulsed through him, but he didn’t persist. Instead, he continued with his explanation.
“While I chewed my way through Chinese take-away left over from the night before, I decided to pull any file relating to ex-cons with similar MOs. I didn’t find an exact match, but there were three I found that were pretty interesting.”
“Three?” She sounded surprised. “But you only said—”
“Yeah, I know. Peterson was one. Then there’s a bloke by the name of Bobby Cutmore who’s been in and out of the slammer for years for rape and some pretty violent assaults. The third one’s a serial rapist by the name of Duncan Brown.”
“But you don’t think either of them did this?”
He shook his head. Seeing she was about to argue, he cut her off. “They’re both in the big house.”
Ellie deflated. “How long?”
He picked up two other files from a crowded corner of his desk. Opening the first one, he flipped over a few pages and read aloud.
“Duncan was put away a couple of years ago for a particularly vicious rape. He still has three years to run on his sentence.” He opened the second file. “Cutmore’s due for release next month.”
A sigh escaped her lips. Okay, Peterson it is.” She leaned back against his desk and crossed her arms over her chest. “Tell me about your profile.”
He opened his eyes wide. “What, without the others? Ben’s on the phone and Luke’s gone out for coffee. You really want me to start before they get back? Because that would be kind of rude, you know.”
Ellie grinned. “Okay, okay. I get it, but I still don’t care. I want to hear it. Now.”
Clayton’s lips twitched and he made a
“Somewhere around there. I think his parents lived at Cranebrook. Seems like they disowned him years ago.”
“They should have drowned him at birth and done us all a favor.”
“You won’t get any arguments from me, babe.”
She tensed and her eyes widened on his momentarily before she looked away. A faint blush stole into her cheeks.
His heart accelerated and he cleared his throat, casting around for something to say. “Are you up for paying Peterson a visit this afternoon?”
Suddenly, she turned on him. “I want to hear your take on all this. After all, that’s what you’re here for, isn’t it? To give us some idea about who this monster is?”
Her cheeks were flushed and her breath came fast. Clayton looked away and gave her time to compose herself.
“I take it you don’t think Peterson could have done it?” he murmured.
Frustration rolled off her in waves. “How the hell do I know? You’re the expert. That’s why they pay you the big bucks.”
Clayton forced himself to remain calm. The tone of his voice belied his inner turmoil when he said, “You’re right. And I wouldn’t want you to think you’re not getting your money’s worth.”
He ignored the narrowing of her eyes and the glare she shot his way. She was gorgeous when she was all fired up. Hell, she was gorgeous anytime.
“Does Peterson fit the profile?”
“Yes.”
Temper flared in her eyes. “So, you’ve put something together and haven’t even bothered sharing it with the rest of us.”
Anger seared through him at her inference. “You think I care more about my ego than I do about putting away an animal that doesn’t even deserve to share the oxygen on this planet? Is that what you’re trying to say?”
She had the grace to look embarrassed and lowered her eyes to concentrate on the stapler that sat on the end of his desk. “I’m sorry; I was out of line,” she mumbled.
Clayton tugged loose his tie, frustration making his fingers clumsy. “The truth is, I have prepared a profile—well, a rough one, anyway. I haven’t shared it with anyone because I only put it together late last night. You’ve only just arrived for the day. I thought you’d be upset if I started without you.”
Her cheeks flushed crimson. A spurt of satisfaction pulsed through him, but he didn’t persist. Instead, he continued with his explanation.
“While I chewed my way through Chinese take-away left over from the night before, I decided to pull any file relating to ex-cons with similar MOs. I didn’t find an exact match, but there were three I found that were pretty interesting.”
“Three?” She sounded surprised. “But you only said—”
“Yeah, I know. Peterson was one. Then there’s a bloke by the name of Bobby Cutmore who’s been in and out of the slammer for years for rape and some pretty violent assaults. The third one’s a serial rapist by the name of Duncan Brown.”
“But you don’t think either of them did this?”
He shook his head. Seeing she was about to argue, he cut her off. “They’re both in the big house.”
Ellie deflated. “How long?”
He picked up two other files from a crowded corner of his desk. Opening the first one, he flipped over a few pages and read aloud.
“Duncan was put away a couple of years ago for a particularly vicious rape. He still has three years to run on his sentence.” He opened the second file. “Cutmore’s due for release next month.”
A sigh escaped her lips. Okay, Peterson it is.” She leaned back against his desk and crossed her arms over her chest. “Tell me about your profile.”
He opened his eyes wide. “What, without the others? Ben’s on the phone and Luke’s gone out for coffee. You really want me to start before they get back? Because that would be kind of rude, you know.”
Ellie grinned. “Okay, okay. I get it, but I still don’t care. I want to hear it. Now.”
Clayton’s lips twitched and he made a