slightly irritating but much-loved brother.
Angela turned her attention to Aidan and held back a dreamy sigh. There wasn’t a heterosexual woman in this world who could look at Aidan Thorne and not feel something. Nicknamed ‘the golden Adonis’ by a few of the single LCR employees, Aidan could make the most married and committed woman’s heart skip a few beats. Even as crazy as she was about Jake, she couldn’t look at Aidan without appreciating the view. No mortal man should look that good. And if that wasn’t enough, he had a great sense of humor and was a genuinely nice guy.
Tearing her eyes away from Aidan, Angela looked to the other end of the table where a quiet and pensive Riley Ingram sat unmoving, patiently waiting for the meeting to start. An unknown in every sense of the word, Riley had been an operative for almost two years and was the most mysterious LCR employee they’d ever had. She had read her file, done the necessary research for Noah to bring her in as an LCR operative and yet, Angela still felt she didn’t know anything about her.
The man sitting beside Riley, and politely ignoring her, was Justin Kelly. He had been hired last year without Angela’s knowledge, which was a rarity since she usually dug up every minutia of background on a prospective operative before Noah made the decision. It wasn’t until after Justin was hired that she learned he was former military and had apparently encountered LCR years ago when he had been trying to rescue his kidnapped sister from a human trafficker. From all accounts, it hadn’t been a good first meeting.
According to Noah, Justin was the one who had made the contact and requested an interview. She remembered that Noah had left for the meeting sure that the man intended retribution. Three hours later her boss had returned and said, “We’ve got new employ, Justin Kelly. He’ll start in a couple of weeks.” And that had been that.
Since then, Justin and Riley had apparently developed a love-hate relationship. Angela had heard that they worked together better than many operatives who’d been together for years, seemingly able to read each other without words. Outside an op, they acted as if they didn’t know the other existed. Angela found their dynamics fascinating.
Finally she allowed herself to focus on Jake, who was sitting beside Noah. Her boss had the usual grim, determined expression locked on his face. Jake looked equally forbidding. When his eyes shot to her, they seemed to pierce straight through. Angela’s heart rate increased, thudding hard against her chest.
The instant Noah stood, the entire room went quiet and all eyes zeroed in on the LCR leader. “We’ve been asked, along with several other organizations, to lend a hand in the search for the killer who’s been on a rampage in London for the last year or so—the one the press has named the Red Rose Killer.
“Here’s what we know: All of the victims have been tall, attractive brunettes. The women are single, Caucasian…between the ages of twenty and thirty. His preferences are waitresses and strippers.”
His eyes scanned the room. “We believe he stalks his victims to ensure that they live alone. Once that’s determined, he somehow gets into their home and takes them. There’s been no sign of forced entry in any of the victims’ houses.”
“Is there any evidence that he actually gets into the home? How do they know he doesn’t take them at the door? Or somewhere else?” Shea asked.
“There’s a possibility some have been abducted elsewhere but there have been signs of a struggle in some of the victims’ homes. The theory is he gets inside, overpowers them, and then carries them out.”
“How the hell have people not seen them taken?” Ethan asked. “At some point, you’d think someone would have noticed an unwilling woman being dragged from her home.”
Noah shook his head. “Traces of Ketamine, Rohypnol and Scopolamine have been found in the victims’ blood. Any of those drugs can render a person helpless without causing unconsciousness.”
“And can make you do things you never thought possible,” Shea muttered.
All eyes went to the operative who had been kidnapped by a madman several years ago. Shea had been given a cocktail of the very same drugs, had lost her memories and almost her life. Thankfully, Ethan had rescued her but the hellacious event had struck at the very core of their organization.
“Exactly,” Noah said grimly. “Scopolamine in particular. It’s been called the zombie