Edge of Midnight (40 page)

“That’s a good girl,” Levi muttered, enthralled. His titillation was repulsive.

Chest heaving, Eric yanked hard at the chair’s arm, the cuff clanking against the wood. “Don’t do this! Deal with me!”

Levi grinned, watching him. He
needed
his witness, Eric realized all over again. He needed to see the anguish and fear of his observer as much as he needed it from his victim. He craved someone to behold his power. And this time he had a male—a federal agent, his own nemesis—as his spectator. The feeling of supremacy had to go far beyond anything he’d enjoyed with the drugged women.

He felt his panic rising. Levi had cut off her air for a good forty-five seconds this time. She was getting weaker, the fight beginning to go out of her by degrees. Her bloodied fingers that had been clenched now uncurled. Eric’s heart beat out a rapid staccato. He couldn’t take this anymore. Muscles straining, he pulled so hard at the chair arm the metal cuff cut into his wrist, opening his skin. He felt the arm’s dovetailed joints loosen. Another series of forceful, painful yanks and they pulled apart. Sliding the cuff from the wood, Eric rose.

The dry cleaning bag went instantly limp. Levi gripped the gun. “Remain seated!”

“No.” It was a risk he had to take or watch her die a slow and excruciating death. Eric was betting his own life on Levi’s need for an audience. He remained standing. Mia breathed in tight little rasps, her head wobbling under the plastic.

“I said, be seated or I’ll shoot you now!”

“Then shoot me,” Eric challenged between clenched teeth. “Because I’m not going to watch another fucking second of this.”

Turning his back on Levi’s outrage, he waited to feel the hot force of a bullet, see his world fade to nothingness as the metal slug passed through his skull. But instead all that came at him were more hurled threats. Pulse thrumming, Eric moved slowly toward the kitchen. If Levi killed
him,
there would be no one to watch.

“Say goodbye to her, then!”

He stopped but didn’t turn around. His throat ached as he heard the bag snap tight over Mia’s face again. Her chair rocked on its legs as the asphyxiation continued. Eric walked away on knees that threatened to buckle.

Leaving her was the hardest thing he’d ever done.

But it was the only way to lure Levi away from her.

He stepped over the dead men’s bodies, his shoes leaving bloodstains on the kitchen floor. The phone line here had been cut. Aware of the tremor in his hands, he took a glass from the cabinet and filled it from the faucet. The handcuffs dangled from his bleeding wrist. Staring blindly at the backsplash, Eric took a small sip and waited.
Come after me, asshole, and leave her the hell alone.
But he heard nothing from the other room, only the sound of rainfall beating on the curtained window over the sink. The silence was as unbearable as her torture. Wiping at the blood trickling down his temple, Eric closed his eyes and prayed. If he’d failed her, if he was wrong and she was dying right now, he wanted his own release next. Levi could put a bullet through him for all he cared.

He wasn’t wrong.

He palmed a small paring knife from the counter as he heard heavy footsteps approaching. They stopped in the doorway. “You’re going to get back in here now!”

Eric turned. Levi’s face was a mask of fury. He remained several feet away in the shadow of the refrigerator, pointing the gun.

“You want to kill me, then do it.”

“I get that you’re not afraid to die. How brave. And I promise you,
you will.
But on my terms. You’re going to
watch
her succumb to me first.” He tilted his head in bemusement, his lips lifting in a cold smirk before he spoke again. “This must all seem like some kind of curse to you. First your wife and now her—both of them taken by
me.
You’re the one who’s
powerless,
Agent Macfarlane.”

He indicated the sliding glass doors. “You obviously care for her or you would’ve escaped. You can’t bear to leave her, can you? Now get back to your seat or I’ll make her death especially painful. Would you prefer that I cut her up like Rebecca? We’ll start with some superficial slashes before moving on to the mortal ones.”

Eric felt the threat in his veins. Still, he remained controlled.

“It must suck to be you, Levi,” he said quietly, baiting him. “Your mother emasculated you to the point that you’re a weak, sexless excuse for a human. And yet you spent years caring for her, still hoping for her approval. You never got it, did you? She was embarrassed by you. No wonder.”

“Shut up,” he warned, eyes glittering with anger as he clenched the weapon harder. “You don’t know anything about me!”

“I know everything about you I need to.” Eric slipped his fingers around the handle of the concealed knife, prepared to fight. “My profile wasn’t wrong. You’re a dead loser.”

With a snarl, he advanced from the shadows, his gun aimed at Eric’s face. A sharp pop filled the air and the side of Levi’s head exploded. Brain matter splattered the cabinets as he dropped to the floor in a red mist.

The sniper.

A small hole was visible in the glass door. Stunned, Eric remained frozen for a half second. Then he began to move.

“Mia!”

She remained tied to the chair, barely conscious, the plastic bag still over her face. Yanking it off and whispering her name, Eric knelt in front of her, hands shaking as he used the knife to saw through her binds. Her breathing was labored and uneven. He freed her just as the SWAT team burst through the door, shouting commands to get down. Holding his shield in the air, Eric wrapped his other arm around her protectively.

His eyes briefly met Cameron’s as he carried her out to the waiting ambulance.

41

S
ubdued voices coming from the hallway woke her. Mia lay in a faintly lit hospital room, her body sore and the fingers of her left hand wrapped in heavy gauze. Eric sat in the chair beside her bed, dozing. His dress shirt was untucked and open at the throat, and there were splotches of dried blood on its collar and front. He had a heavy bandage on his temple. She gazed at him groggily, amazed.

It was hard to believe either of them had gotten out alive.

A wall clock indicated it was nearly four in the morning. She’d lost hours, she realized, sedated by the E.R. physicians. Vaguely, she recalled Eric lifting her into his arms and pushing through the crowd of law enforcement to get her to the ambulance. Then he’d climbed inside with her, his face tense and pale. He had told her Allan Levi was dead. That he could never hurt her again. Just after, her world had faded to black.

For a time Mia listened to the steady beep of the heart monitor. Even now, she could feel the terrifying burn of her lungs and the pounding of her blood as Levi pulled the plastic bag tight over her face. She turned her head to the side on the pillow and closed her eyes, her insides knotting.

I’m still here,
she reminded herself.
I survived.

Reaching out with her uninjured hand, her fingers caressed the sterile dressing wrapped around Eric’s wrist. Her touch caused him to stir. Seeing that she was awake, he sat up and leaned forward in the chair. His moss-green eyes stared into hers. She watched them slowly fill with tears.

“Eric,” she whispered, her heart constricting.

He bowed his head, bringing her fingers to his lips and kissing her knuckles, then rubbing his stubbled cheek against them.

“I’m so sorry,” he said hoarsely.

“It’s not your fault.”

“I moved you to the bungalow.” The words were thick in his throat. “I thought you’d be safe there.”

Mia’s voice in return was gentle. “He followed the deputies from the newspaper. You couldn’t have known.”

Those same two men were dead now, one of them murdered right in front of her. She wondered if they had families, children. It made her sad that she had failed to ever ask them.

“They ran some tests. The doctor doesn’t think you suffered any brain or organ damage from the oxygen deprivation.” He released a shaky breath. “But it’s likely you have some nerve damage in your fingers, honey.”

The local anesthetic that had been shot into her injured fingertips had worn off. Even with the pain medication she was receiving through an IV line, she could feel their dull throb as her bandaged hand rested on the bedsheets. “How bad is it?”

“They don’t know yet.”

Mia tried not to think about it. Instead, she looked at Eric as he rubbed a hand over his bleary eyes. She understood his intense emotion. Levi’s death represented the close of three arduous years in his life. She couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to come face-to-face with the man who had tortured and murdered his wife, the woman he’d loved. To be forced to sit helplessly by as he came close to killing
her,
as well. Mia’s fingers grazed his forearm. She suspected from his bloodied clothing he had never been too far away from her. He obviously hadn’t taken the time to change.

“Have you been here this whole time?”

“I was debriefed in one of the hospital conference rooms.” He appeared tired, and she noticed the small lines etched around his eyes. “Agent Vartran is handling statements to the media.”

“Eric, it’s your case. If you need to go…”

“I’m staying here. I’m not leaving you.” Pausing, he bent his head again, struggling with something he needed to say. “When I realized Levi was inside the house with you, I was so afraid you were already dead.”

Then he’d known from the beginning. He hadn’t been surprised upon entering. He’d come inside for her, knowing full well what awaited him and that he was as likely to die at Levi’s hands as she was.

“I couldn’t lose you like that…” Shaking his head, he swallowed hard. “I couldn’t lose another woman I loved the same way.”

Mia felt her eyes mist.

“But I almost did…lose you,” he said haltingly. “I couldn’t stop him from hurting you.”

“I’m here. I’m going to be okay.”

He laid his head on her stomach, asking again for her forgiveness. Mia stroked his hair as he fell silently apart.

The night was warm, the dark waters of Matanzas Bay stretching out as far as Eric could see. He stood on the deck with Cameron at his house in St. Augustine.

“They seem to be hitting it off,” Cameron remarked. It was after dinner, and Lanie and Mia were visible through the window, the two women talking in the kitchen. Mia had been released from the hospital four days earlier. She sipped from a coffee mug, her cheekbone marred by a bruise and her left hand still heavily bandaged.

“How’s she doing, by the way?”

Eric continued watching her. “She puts up a good front, but we both know she’s been through hell and back. I’ve asked her to see a counselor dealing with post-traumatic stress.”

He’d brought up the topic on more than one occasion, actually. Both times, Mia had jokingly told him her sessions with Dr. Wilhelm had filled her psychiatry quota, thank you very much. But the nightmare she’d had the previous evening worried him. He’d been there to hold her, and he wasn’t sure how well she would cope once he was gone.

“You’re in love with her?” Cameron asked.

Eric leaned against the deck railing. He thought of Rebecca. Levi’s death had allowed him to finally gain closure, some justice for her. He gave a small nod of acknowledgment. “We’re taking it slow.”

Cameron sipped his beer, seeming to process the information.

“For what it’s worth, I would’ve done the same thing.” He looked at his wife. “If Lanie had been inside with that psychopath, I’d have walked through fire to save her. When’s your flight out tomorrow?”

“Seven o’clock.” After closing down the case Eric had remained in town, taking vacation time to be with Mia. She’d been fragile after leaving the hospital and with Will and Justin still in Chicago, also alone. Eric had moved into her apartment. They’d slept late, lounged poolside and made love as if they would never see one another again. Danger had a way of heightening passions, but Eric had discovered his feelings for Mia remained the same even in the calm after the storm.

“Long-distance relationships are tough,” Cameron pointed out.

“I’ll come down for a weekend and she’ll come up there. We’re going to try it that way for a while.” Eric turned and peered out over the water again. “She understands my job, Cam. Why I have to do what I do.”

“I appreciate you coming down here, Eric. Lanie and I care about you. We want you to know that.”

“Then check in on her for me?”

“You got it.”

Just then, the women appeared at the door, their conversation capturing the men’s attention. Lanie cupped her pregnant belly. She seemed to have gotten a bit larger in the time since Eric had last visited them.

“I’m going to slice some watermelon, Cam. Mind giving me a hand?”

He took Eric’s empty beer bottle and his own and followed his wife into the house. Mia came onto the deck. She was stunningly beautiful to him. The wind blew her sleek, dark hair as she approached.

“I like Lanie.” She added wryly, “And I think Agent Vartran is warming to me.”

“Cameron,” Eric corrected with a faint smile. Using his fingertips, he pushed back a few strands of hair the breeze had blown across her face.

For a time, they stared out over the languid bay together, Mia’s head against his shoulder and his arm wrapped around her. The lighthouse on Anastasia Island cast a glow into the dark night, reflecting on the water where, at twilight, they had spotted a small group of frolicking manatees.

“What’re you thinking?” he asked when she’d remained silent for a while.

Her voice was somber. “Just that they’re still out there.”

Eric knew what she was referring to. Cissy Cox’s remains had yet to be recovered, although her death had been confirmed by the chilling audio recording. The Bureau’s forensics team had used cadaver dogs to go over Levi’s property but nothing had turned up. Eric suspected her remains were moored somewhere in the St. Johns.

And Joy Rourke, the little girl taken by Levi more than two decades ago, now existed only in Mia’s dreams. She’d been forgotten by the system, the only real proof of her life in Hank Dugger’s notes and the newspaper archives.

“I’ve talked to Grayson. I’m going to do a cold case profile on Joy. He liked the idea.”

“I don’t want to leave you,” Eric whispered.

She looked up at him in the darkness. “I know.”

He bent his head and kissed her, even now feeling a hunger for her. It was their last night together for a while, and Eric vowed to share dessert with Lanie and Cameron and then take Mia home where he could have her all to himself. Already, he dreaded her absence in his life.

“I’ll be fine, Eric.” It was as if she could read his thoughts. “Will and Justin will be back in a few days. Justin’s mother’s improving and they’ve found a live-in caretaker for her until she’s fully recovered.”

“You could come with me to D.C. tomorrow. Miller told you to take off whatever time you need.”

She shook her head. “The summer ballet classes I’m teaching start at the center next week. I don’t want to disappoint those little girls. I also have a doctor’s appointment I need to keep.”

For now, all they knew was that the sensory nerves in her fingertips had been damaged, impacting her sense of touch. The doctors would have to allow the wounds to heal further before determining its permanency. Mia had taken the news like a soldier, blithely mentioning that it might make using a keyboard interesting. But the reality was that it could also impact even basic skills like chopping vegetables or buttoning a shirt. Eric felt a lingering sense of anger about what Levi had done to her.

Her voice distracted him from his thoughts.

“Besides, if I come back with you now, we aren’t really giving this whole long-distance thing much of a try, are we?”

“I’ll be back down again at least once before Lanie has the baby,” Eric promised.

“And I’ll come up to see you at least once before then.”

Hurricane lanterns had been set out around the deck. It was a romantic setting, but one that was also bittersweet. Eric stared into Mia’s eyes. He wanted to memorize this moment and call on it often during the times they were apart.

“Do we really need watermelon?” he asked in a low voice. “We could leave now.”

“Lanie’s carved baskets out of cantaloupes to hold the fruit. She went to a lot of trouble. I think we need to stay.” She slid her arms around Eric’s neck and placed her lips against his ear, adding, “When we get home, I’ll make the wait worth your while.”