First Do No Evil: Blood Secrets, Book 1 (13 page)

As he gazed out onto the streets, an elderly woman slipped on the ice and hit the frozen concrete face first. Entertained by the way her arms flailed in a fit of panic, he laughed and yanked the drapes shut. He crossed the room to his antique desk and dropped into the fortifying comfort of his wingback chair. His appointment was late, and he was growing impatient. Tonight he would set his plan in motion, and soon all his problems would be laid to rest. Then a few less vermin would clutter the planet.

Chapter Nine

“You want me to call your brother?” Danny offered. He’d rather question Sky alone, get her untainted version of the events that took place the night her father was murdered, but the retelling would likely be rough on her, and he couldn’t offer her comfort. Garth, on the other hand, could.

She dismissed the idea with a shake of her head, and he was glad of it. “I’m okay. I’ll tell you everything I remember. But there are gaps. Post-traumatic amnesia, or so Dr. Greene says. It’s not uncommon, you know.”

“Dr. Greene would be?”

“The psychiatrist I saw for three long years. After the murder, I basically fell apart.”

He narrowed his eyes at her apologetic tone. “So you went to a shrink. You were what, seventeen at the time? Getting help is hardly a sign of weakness, Sky.”

“I know that.”

Her acquiescence was unconvincing. Despite Sky’s medical training, she couldn’t allow herself a human response to tragedy. She practically reeked of survivor guilt. Probably why she worked so hard in that clinic—trying to prove she deserved to live. But in any case, now wasn’t the time to press the point. Pulling out a pen and the pocket-sized spiral notepad he always kept with him, he said, “What you remember then. And go easy. Take your time.”

“It was around nine p.m. on Halloween. Garth was out with friends.” The words tumbled out on top of one another. Ignoring his advice, Sky plunged in headlong, like her story was bone-chilling water, and she had to immerse herself all at once, before she lost her nerve. “My father was upstairs sleeping—he was a doctor too, he’d been on call the night before. I thought all the trick-or-treaters were done. But then someone rang the bell. I opened the front door, but I didn’t see anyone. So I stepped onto the porch, and someone grabbed me from behind. Covered my mouth with his hand. He dragged me upstairs and promised not to hurt me if I didn’t scream, but I screamed as best I could anyway, and he punched me in the face.

“My father came out of his room. He begged the man not to hurt me, promised him money and went to his safe. I saw my father open the safe and pull out my mother’s jewelry, and then…and then…” Her voice never faltered. The words simply died. She strained forward, but couldn’t push anything else out.

His breathing grew shallow along with hers. “What happened after your father took the jewels out of the safe, Sky?”

“I don’t know. Next thing I remember, I was lying on my bed. The man was on top of me. Holding something sharp against my throat.”

As her eyes closed, he fought the urge to wrap her in his arms.

“A knife. A knife against my throat. The blade was so cold. I didn’t feel pain, but I knew when he cut me, because I felt warm blood dripping down my neck. I didn’t want to die with my eyes shut. I wanted to see the world one last time, so I made myself open my eyes.”

She opened her eyes.

As brave now as then. This couldn’t be easy for her, but she seemed determined to tell him everything she remembered. “The man’s face was covered by a ski mask. All I could see were coal black eyes…horrible, dead eyes. He said, ‘Welcome back, sweetheart. I want you awake for this.’ And then he pushed my skirt up and started touching me.”

Danny swallowed back the fury that scalded his insides and drove acid up through his esophagus. His knuckles ached as he clenched his fist around his pen. For Sky’s benefit, he had to contain his rage. Deliberately relaxing his fist, he dropped the pen and extended a hand, palm up, in offering. She didn’t take it. His hand felt so empty. “Maybe you’d rather talk to a policewoman. I can arrange it, if you’d like.”

Her shoulders lifted, and her eyes met his. “I need to finish.”

He nodded. “Okay, but we can stop anytime. You said the intruder tried to kill you.”

“Yes, I knew he was going to kill me, because he told me so. He said he killed my father, and I was next.” At last, a tear slid down her cheek. She seemed not to notice. “He said first he was going to rape me. He said—” Her chin jerked, and her low voice dropped to a mere whisper. “He said I should try really hard to come because it would make it better for him. He said if I…if I came for him, he’d be merciful and kill me quick. That’s when I started begging, ‘Please just kill me now, just kill me now.’”

Tension coiled Danny’s muscles so tight his legs burned. He set the pad down on the table and rubbed his thighs. Lifting his hands in front of his face, he watched his fingers first spread and then curl, as if he could grab the motherfucker who hurt Sky and choke the life out of him. Then her soft voice called him out of his fog.

“But Garth came home. And he saved me.”

“Garth came home.”

“Yes. I remember hearing him thunder up the stairs. I remember he screamed at the man, ‘You bastard. You bastard.’ And then Garth was on the floor, on top of the man with his hands around his throat…” She covered her eyes with her hands.

“What happened after that, Sky? Where is the man who murdered your father now?”

Uncovering her eyes, she looked at the ceiling. Smoothed her shirtsleeves methodically. “Garth killed him. Choked him to death. With his bare hands.”

Danny felt a surge of gratitude toward Garth Novak, a man who appeared mild-mannered, genteel even, and yet had the balls to take down a murderer. If not for Garth, Sky wouldn’t be alive today. And that realization shook Danny to the core; made him more determined than ever to watch over her.

Tamping down his rage, he flattened his palm against his forehead, tried to put the facts into perspective. With the intruder dead, the murder of Sky’s father was tied up in a neat package—just like the robbery at Jolene’s. He had to admit this information put a damper on his serial killer theory and explained Captain Scarborough’s lack of interest in reopening the case.

Unless the man who killed Sky’s father had reached out from the grave, he wasn’t responsible for Edmond’s death. Still, for him, the pieces weren’t a perfect fit: One family, two murders, Halloween. There had to be a connection. Steepling his fingers, he asked, “What was his name—the man who killed your father?”

Sky raised her chin and brushed her hair back behind her ears. “Steve Regan.”

“Does Regan have any family members still living in the area?”

“His younger brother is Carson Rothschild. Have you heard of him?”

“The injury lawyer? Of course, those commercials of his are outrageous. Sky, I’m thinking that maybe someone in Regan’s family wanted to avenge his death.”

A furrow appeared between Sky’s brows. Her eyes widened, and then she let out a harsh breath. “Oh, God. You think Rothschild might’ve hired someone to get revenge for his brother? If that’s true, why kill Edmond? Wouldn’t he have been after me or Garth?”

Careful not to let his agitation show, Danny rose from the couch. He walked slowly over to the telephone, carefully lifted the receiver, and dialed his precinct number.

Two rings, and then feedback reverberated in his ear. The desk sergeant must’ve dropped the phone.

“Sonbitch.”

“Grimshaw? It’s me, Benson.”

“Aren’t you on leave?”

“Can you dispatch a protective detail to Dr. Garth Novak’s home?”

“I’ve got a car that can swing by.”

“Not swing by. I need surveillance for the rest of the night.”

“What the fuck, Danny? I can’t tie up a team all night.”

“Just do it for me please. I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.”

“You’re putting me in a bind here. I got nothing but love for you, Danny. But we don’t got the manpower, and I’m not looking to get my dick guillotined by the captain.”

“I have reason to believe someone may be after Novak and his sister. I’ll watch the sister. But if one of Flagstaff’s most revered citizens takes a bullet on your shift, your dick is going to be the least of your worries.”

“Then maybe you better ask me nice.”

“Don’t cock this up.”

“Sweet talker… I’ll send out the babysitters, but you better have some industrial strength air freshener ready for when the shit—”

Danny hung up, spun around and bumped into Sky, nearly knocking her to the ground. Catching her in his arms, he steadied her against his chest. Through the layers of his T-shirt and woolen sweater, he felt the fullness of her breasts, the delicacy of her petite frame. His hand slid down her spine to the small of her back. Beneath his palm, her tense muscles softened. Only the slightest pressure would be required to guide the full length of her body against his.

Jerking his hands to her shoulders, he pushed back. “A squad car’s headed to Garth’s place. Tomorrow I’ll speak to Scarborough and figure out a way to protect the two of you until we get this sorted out.”

She released a choppy sigh. “Thank you for looking after Garth. I don’t know how I could go on if anything happened to him.”

“Time for bed,” he said. Her color heightened, and he cleared his throat, correcting the huskiness in his voice. “I’ll take the couch.”

“No.” She retrieved his coat and held it out to him.

Tossing it over a chair, he said, “I’m sorry, Sky, but we don’t have the resources to send a team out here, too. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me. At least for tonight.”

“Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t want you here. Garth’s the one who needs protection.”

His shoulders drew back. “This isn’t negotiable.”

“I don’t need protection.”

“I disagree. And I’m not just talking about from outside threats.”

She grabbed his coat off the chair and shook it at him. Her mouth set into a hard line. “What are you implying?”

“I’m not implying anything. I’m saying straight out I think you’re in trouble. You don’t eat. You don’t sleep. When you’re not working at that clinic, you’re moonlighting in the ER. You don’t take care of yourself.”

“You sound like my brother.”

“Your brother’s a smart man. Why don’t you take better care of yourself, Sky? Why fight the people who want to help you?”

“I don’t know, Dr. Freud. Suppose you tell me. I’m sure you’ve got a doozy of a theory, so lay it on me.” In a gesture of surrender, she draped his coat back over the chair. “I’m waiting for your analysis with bated breath.”

“Okay.” He took a step forward.

She retreated to the wall.

“I think you feel guilty you survived those robberies. I think some part of you wishes you’d died along with your father and Edmond. I think it’s possible you don’t really want to live.”

A flush rose on her cheeks, and her pupils darkened. “You have no right. You barely know me.”

“I know you well enough. And I care about what happens to you.”

“Don’t.” Her eyes blazed a warning. “It could be hazardous to your health.”

Closing the gap between them, he smoothed a lock of hair behind her ear. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about, Sky. You make it sound like it’s your fault your father and Edmond are dead. But you’re not the one who killed them. You didn’t pull the trigger. Maybe you don’t want me pointing that out, asking you tough questions. But I’m going to keep on asking them until I know you’re okay.”

Brushing his hand away, she turned her back and crossed to the window. He followed. Her voice softened and she said, “I appreciate your concern, I truly do. But I’m not your responsibility. I don’t need you to take care of me.”

In the quiet room, he heard her breathing accelerate followed by the squeal of tires. He yanked the curtains aside, and a flash of headlights blinded him before disappearing into the night.

Chapter Ten

While a grandfather clock ticked, the man tapped his fingers on his desk and stretched his booted legs. It was ten o’clock, Friday night. His appointment was long overdue, and in any other circumstance, he would not have stayed, but tonight he would be patient. Later, he would dispose of the despicable creature who had the temerity to keep a man of his importance waiting.

Smoothing his cheek against the buttery leather of his armchair, he drew in a deep breath of power. The sweet, musty scent of animal hide reminded him who he was, how he came to be so strong. As he stroked the chair’s slick arms, his fingertips lingered over the decorative nails, recalling the metal studs that so often bit into the flesh of his neck as a boy.

Hands tingling in anticipation, he pulled a tiny key from his suit pocket and turned the lock on the gilded ebony box that anchored today’s mail to his desktop. Sifting through the precious contents, his fingers convulsed around worn leather and brought forth a studded dog collar.

His heart quickened.

Tugging his shirt up to protect his neck from marks, he carefully settled leather over silk, adjusted the dog collar so it lay beneath his Adam’s apple, and cinched tight. Heat surged through his veins until his blood scorched tender skin from beneath the surface. Here, in this sanctuary, memories stroked him like lover’s fingers. His chest ached, and his breathing grew labored from childhood memories that were simultaneously suffocating and arousing.