Don't Look Back (19 page)

Heat started at the base of her throat and started creeping north. “Um, no, you’re not being nosey, I don’t guess. I don’t know that I would call us an item, but we’re definitely . . . ah . . . getting to know each other.”

“I see.” Another shrug. “That’s fine. Maybe the three of us could do lunch one day then.”

A relieved sigh rippled up, but she repressed it and nodded. “Sure, that’d be great.”

George left and Jamie let the sigh escape. She had just aimed the camera to take another picture when Serena Hopkins gave a brief knock and entered the lab. “Hey, Jamie, how’s it going?”

Jamie stepped back and gestured to the face. “What do you think?”

“Wow. Good job. Have you got the pictures ready?”

“Just about. That’s what I’m doing now.”

“When you finish, you want to grab some dinner? We haven’t done that in a while.”

“Uh . . . I’d better not.”

Confusion flashed, but Serena just shrugged and said, “All right.”

“I just turned George down because I was busy.”

Realization dawned. “Ah. Got you. So, he’s asked you out too?”

“Too?”

Serena nodded, amusement dancing in her dark eyes. “Yep.”

Jamie let out a laugh. “Oh boy. When did he ask you out?”

“About a week ago.”

Shaking her head, Jamie chuckled. The man was lonely and needed some friends. Or he was a player and asked out any female he came into contact with. Yet another reason to keep their lunches a group thing. “I’ll keep that in mind. I’m not interested anyway.”

“Didn’t think you would be with Dakota around.”

More flushing heat. Jamie wondered if she had any blood left below her neck. “What do you mean?”

“Oh come on. I’ve seen the way you guys look at each other.”

Avoiding eye contact wasn’t working. She looked at Serena and tried for a nonchalance she didn’t feel. “The way we look at each other? What is this? A movie?”

“No, it’s sweet.”

“Go away.”

A lilting laugh escaped Serena. “I can’t, but I can change the subject.” Serious now. “Show me the face.”

Thirty minutes later, Serena left with the pictures that would appear on the news tonight and Jamie realized she was starving.

And she’d turned down two dinner invitations.

Great.

Picking up the phone, she called Samantha. When her mother answered the call, Jamie nearly dropped the phone. “Hi, what are you doing there?” she blurted. “Is Sam worse?”

“Hello to you too, Jamie. No, Sam’s much better. I just brought her some grilled chicken.”

Ooh, her mother’s grilled chicken. “Is there enough for me?”

“Of course, and anyone else you’d like to invite.”

Her mother was referring to Dakota. The woman liked him an awful lot, and Jamie knew she had hopes for the two of them. Thankfully, though, she kept her thoughts to herself when it came to that relationship. A fact that Jamie greatly appreciated. She supposed that was one reason she refrained from pushing her mom and dad about what was going on with them. While she was concerned, she had a great respect for other people’s privacy. Not that Samantha didn’t, but . . .

With a start, she realized she didn’t have a ride to her mother’s house. In the process of dialing Dakota’s number, her phone rang. “Hello?”

“It’s me.”

“Hey, Sam.”

“Is Dakota there with you?”

“No, I was just thinking I’d have to either walk home to get my car or call one of the guys to come get me.”

Sam’s voice turned sharp. “Don’t you dare walk home. I’ll be there to get you in ten minutes.”

“But you’re sick.”

“I’m better. Hang tight.”

“I . . .” She huffed out a sigh. “Okay. I’ll be looking for you.”

“See you in a few.”

Jamie hung up the phone and set it on the table near the sink in case one of the guys called. She began to straighten the lab, putting away her tools and cleaning up around her work area. She glanced at the clock.

7:00.

Not terribly late, but where were the guys and why hadn’t they called?

All at once, the quiet of the place echoed in her ears. She walked to the door of the lab and looked down the hallway. Not a soul in sight.

Weird.

Most of the time, the place was a beehive of activity, slowing down around this time of day, yet still with a few people milling about. Even on the weekends,
someone
was here.

She stepped through the door and headed toward Serena’s office, which was just next door. Jamie knocked and got no answer. Probably went on to supper.

Doing a one-eighty, Jamie made her way back toward the opposite end of the hall and peered through the glass. One empty office after another.

What in the world?

She stepped into the break room.

And saw the notice on the bulletin board.

“‘Retirement party for Harrison Cooper. 6:30–8:00 at Flannigan’s,’” she read aloud. She’d forgotten about it. No surprise there. With all the turmoil she’d been experiencing, she’d be shocked if she could remember her way home.

So, was she all alone in the building? Her stomach tightened at the thought. Surely not.

Why hadn’t anyone stopped by to ask if she was going? She hadn’t planned on it, but she would have left before now to avoid the very situation she now found herself in.

Making her way back down the hall to her office, she decided to get her stuff together and go down to the lobby where Stewart, one of the morgue’s security guards, would be sitting. She could wait for Samantha in the comfort of one of the lobby chairs under the watchful eye of Stewart.

Her blue tennis shoes made no sound on the tiled floor. A door slammed shut behind her and she whirled. When no one appeared, she swallowed hard, spun on her heel, and picked up her pace. Her pulse followed suit.

Quick glances over her shoulder told her no one was there, but the uneasiness flowing through her made her heart pound. Her palms grew slick and she rubbed them against her pants.

Behind her, rubber soles squeaked against the floor.

“Who’s there?” she called. “Hello?”

No answer.

Someone was back there. Why wouldn’t that person answer her?

“I know you’re there. Who is it? If this is a joke, it’s not funny.”

Silence again greeted her call.

Then a low laugh accosted her ears, mocking her, scraping her nerves and making them twitch as though they knew what was in store for them. Her wrists actually ached as though they once again were trapped in the confines of the handcuffs.

And the dam of terror broke, flooding her veins with it, filling her very being with the horrifying memories. Gasping, trembling, she raced to her office on legs that barely supported her. She slapped the door open, then slammed it shut, clicking the lock into place in one jerky movement.

She rested her back against the glass, then moved looking for a place to hide. A phone. She needed to call someone. Her blood thundered in her ears, deafening her to any sound except the sound of her shuddering whimpers.

Oh God, do something. Please, please, please, I’m begging you.

Did she really believe
he
was out there? Her mind said no. Her fear said yes.

Through the glass windows, she watched from behind her desk and waited. Any minute she expected the door to burst open or glass to go flying. No window would keep him from his prey. A thought occurred to her.

Last time he’d taken her by surprise.

This time she knew he was there.

Breaths coming in puffs, Jamie desperately gathered some of her wits together and looked around for a weapon. A pen, a stapler . . . a pair of scissors. She snatched them up. They’d have to do.

The pounding on the door wrenched a scream from her throat. Whirling, she raised the scissors and stopped.

Samantha.

Staring at her in wide-eyed concern, her eyes flitting from the scissors to Jamie’s face. “What are you doing? Jamie, open the door.”

Wilting against her desk, Jamie dropped the scissors. She honestly didn’t know if she had the strength to cross the floor to the door.

“Jamie, come on.” Samantha rattled the knob once again.

With trembling legs, she pushed her body from the desk and forced her limbs to walk to the door. Her fingers shook so bad, she almost couldn’t grasp the lock to turn it.

Finally, the door flew open and she was in Samantha’s arms. Dakota and Connor came up behind her.

“What is it, Jamie, what scared you?”

“He was here.”

“What?” Dakota and Connor exchanged a look, then bolted back down the hall, weapons appearing in their hands as though by magic.

It was all Dakota could do to push down the rage he felt at the man responsible for Jamie’s continued fear. Using hand signals for communication, Connor noted he’d cover the room to his right.

Dakota held his weapon ready for backup should Connor need it. He didn’t.

All the way to the end of the hall, they searched every possible hiding place.

Finally, they came to the last office on the right. George’s office. Dakota raised his knuckles and rapped twice.

Nothing.

But the door swung open.

Stepping inside, he kept his back to the wall. Connor mimicked his moves on the opposite side. A door to the left was cracked. A bathroom?

Making his way over, senses tuned to every nuance in the room, he placed a hand on the door and looked at Connor.

A nod. He was ready.

Dakota shoved the door open. “Freeze! FBI!”

Connor swung around, his weapon trained on the empty room.

Adrenaline pumping, Dakota took in the absence of any threat and lowered his gun. He turned back toward the door and saw movement. He snapped the weapon back up, rushed the door, and yelled, “Freeze!”

George froze, hands held above his head. His throat worked and his eyes looked too big for his face. “Can I help you?”

Connor and Dakota lowered their guns simultaneously. “Did you see anyone out there in the hall?”

“No, no one. I think everyone’s at the retirement party.”

Dakota motioned to George’s hands. “You can put them down now.”

George dropped them to his sides. “Is there a problem?”

“Unfortunately, I think our problem escaped.”

18

Samantha ushered Jamie back into her office and locked the door behind them. “Tell me what happened.” Grabbing a tissue from the box on the desk, she handed one to Jamie.

Jamie stared at it as though she didn’t know what to do with it. Samantha took it back and gently mopped up her face.

Staring up at Samantha’s concerned blue eyes, Jamie said, “I didn’t know I was crying.”

“Enough tears to fill a bucket.”

“Sorry.” She began to calm down, her wracking shudders dissolving into the occasional tremble. Then the anger began bubbling beneath the surface, churning ominously like a tsunami getting ready to make its presence known.

“Where is he? Where did you see him?”

“I didn’t see him. I heard him.”

“What did he say?”

“Nothing.”

A frown creased Jamie’s forehead. “Then . . .”

“He laughed.”

“Lau – ” Samantha cut off the word and waited.

Jamie pulled in a lung full of air and blew it out through pursed lips. “I heard someone behind me. When I turned around, no one was there. I called out and no one would say anything. Then I heard that . . . laugh. That horrible, mocking laughter that haunts my sleep and invades my dreams . . .”

Clamping her lips together, she clung to the anger, the thought of what she’d do if she came face-to-face with the monster again.

The knock on the door made them both jump. Reflexes on high alert, Samantha’s hand went for her gun, then relaxed when she saw it was just Dakota. She rose to let him in. Connor followed. “Well?”

Dakota crossed over to Jamie and took her hands in his. Tears filled her eyes again and she looked away, feeling weak – and ashamed.

He settled his hands lightly on her shoulders as though asking permission to touch her. She leaned in. That was all he needed.

He pulled her close and she snuggled up next to him, hearing his heart thumping in her ear. His voice rumbled up from his chest. “We didn’t see anyone, Jamie.”

“I don’t care if you saw him or not. He was here.”

“I believe you.”

Warmth flooded her and she pulled back to look up at him. “Do you really?”

His eyes bored into hers with the powerful effect of a laser. “Yeah, I really do.”

“So do we,” Connor offered, eyeing the two of them with hope. Jamie knew Connor thought of her as the little sister he never had and wanted her to find happiness in marriage.

She walked back over to her desk and pulled another tissue from the box. “I feel like I’m going crazy. Why is he doing this to me? Why doesn’t he just grab me and get it over with? Why does he enjoy this mental torture so much? What is the deal with that?”

The questions tumbled from her lips, one after the other, like dominoes.

Samantha squeezed her hand and Connor said, “I don’t know, but what do you say we get the tapes from security and see who was in the building.”

Jamie shuddered. “You won’t see him. Somehow he knows how to avoid the cameras.”