HEARTBREAKER (15 page)

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Authors: JULIE GARWOOD

Tags: #Fiction

“Good. I want this to be over as soon as possible.”

“Yeah, well, God willing, it will be. You know, you’re going to be sick of me by the time I leave.”

“On the contrary, I’m sure you’ll be sick of me.”

“I doubt it. I’ll warn you now. I’m going to be taking a lot of liberties. Fact is, I’m going to be all over you.” He glanced at her before continuing. “The goal is to make the unsub crazed with jealousy. Right? And so angry, he’ll make that one little mistake . . .”

“And then you can get him.”

“That’s the plan. But I probably won’t be the one nailing him. Neither will Noah for that matter.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Noah’s going to be busy baby-sitting Tommy, and I’ll be busy . . . mauling you. I’m kind of looking forward to that. So tell me something. What kind of kisser are you?”

She attempted a southern accent when she answered in a slow drawl, “I’m very . . . very . . . good.”

He laughed. “How do you know you’re good?”

“Andre Percelli,” she said. “He kissed me, and he told me I was good. That’s how I know.”

“You never mentioned this Andre guy before. Who the hell is he?”

“We met in fourth grade. But alas, our love affair ended as quickly as it had begun. We were in the cafeteria line when he kissed me, and I ended it then and there.”

Nick smiled. “How come?”

“He wasn’t a good kisser.”

“But you were.”

“That’s what Andre told me before I punched him.”

He laughed. “You were a tough little kid, weren’t you?”

“I could hold my own. I still can,” she boasted.

“So, whatever happened to Andre?”

“Nothing happened to him. Last I heard, he was married with two babies.”

Nick changed the subject back to her routine. “We never talked about the evenings. What do you do at night?”

Laurant was digging through her purse, looking for her hair clip. “Yes we did talk about the evenings,” she reminded him. “And I told you that there’s something scheduled every night for the next two weeks.”

“Because of the wedding you’re going to be in?”

“Partly,” she answered. “But also because I promised the abbot I’d help clean out the attic. He’s spring cleaning before the anniversary celebration.”

“Which is also happening on the Fourth of July. Bad timing,” he added.

“The wedding’s the Saturday before,” she told him. She found the clip at the bottom of her purse.

“This anniversary thing . . . it’s going to be a mess. I hope to God we get this tied up before then. Tommy told me the town’s going to be loaded with strangers coming in from all over the United States.”

She pulled her hair back and clipped it in place. “Actually, they’ll be coming in from Europe too,” she said. “Assumption Abbey opened its doors one hundred years ago. There might even be a cardinal attending.”

“Great,” he muttered. “It’s going to be a security nightmare. I’m telling you, Laurant, if we don’t catch this creep quick, I’m getting you out of there until the celebration is over.”

“Agreed,” she replied. “Pete said to take it a day at a time, remember?”

“Until the first of July. Then we leave.”

She put her hand up. “I’m not arguing with you, but it doesn’t give us much time.”

“Unless he makes his move fast. Listen, it’s real important you don’t . . . relax. You understand? Relaxing your guard can be dangerous.”

“I know and I won’t relax. Could I ask you something?”

“What?”

“If I weren’t me . . . what I mean to say is . . . if I weren’t your best friend’s sister and we were complete strangers to each other before this happened, then would you have been as resistant to setting a trap?”

“You mean using you as bait?”

“Yes.”

“The problem is, you
are
my friend’s sister. I can’t separate that.”

“But what if . . . ?”

Nick’s immediate reaction was to tell her yes, he would have been just as resistant because he knew firsthand how plans could blow up in your face, but after mulling the theoretical question over in his mind for another minute, he admitted it was a golden opportunity and he probably wouldn’t pass it up.

“It’s fifty-fifty.”

“Meaning?”

“I’d weigh the dangers against the possibility of catching this creep before he kills again. And then . . .”

“Then what?”

He sighed. “I’d go for the trap.”

“Have you ever been scared?”

“Hell, yes. I’ve seen what can happen. We don’t always get the bad guys, Laurant, no matter what you’ve seen on television. Sometimes, they stay on the loose for years. The son of a bitch on the top of the ‘most wanted’ list, Emmett Haskell, broke out of a high-security mental ward in Michigan over a year ago, and we still haven’t caught up with him.”

“What did he do?”

“He killed a lot of people. That’s what he did. Seven dead so far, but those are only the ones we know about. There could be more. Haskell told the shrinks that killing brought him good luck. He liked to bet the horses and always went to the track the first Saturday of every month, so the first Friday of every month, he had to kill someone. Didn’t matter who,” he added. “Anyone would do. Man, woman, child. He was real partial to women though. The prettier, the better . . . for luck, you see.”

“Tommy told me . . .”

“What?”

“You hadn’t told him in confidence or he never would have said anything, but I asked him why he was so worried about you and he mentioned . . .”

He knew where she was leading—the Stark case. He had told Tommy about that one, hoping that talking about it would help him forget. It hadn’t helped him though, not one little bit.

“He mentioned I killed a woman, right?”

“Yes.”

“I did what I had to do.”

“You don’t have to defend your actions to me, Nick.”

“There really wasn’t any other choice. Maybe if I’d been a little smarter about it, I could have gotten her cuffed . . . but I left the house, and that gave her time to get the kid and prepare.”

A shiver ran down her arms. “Prepare for what?”

“Me. She knew I was coming back, and she wanted me to watch her kill the little boy.”

Laurant saw the troubled look that crossed Nick’s eyes. “How do you get rid of it?” she asked. “Do you block out the memories?”

“No, I don’t block anything out. I deal with it.”

“But how?”

He shrugged. “I keep busy.”

“Keeping busy isn’t dealing with it.”

“Don’t you tell Noah I said this, but sometimes I wish I were more like him. He can shrug it all off when he has to.”

She disagreed. “He’s paying a price, just like you. He’s just got tougher shields.”

“Yeah, maybe. But as long as animals like Haskell and Stark are out there, I can’t relax. I want to get them.”

“There’s always going to be another one, isn’t there? Nick, you need a normal life outside of your work.”

“Now you sound like Pete, and this is damned heavy chitchat.”

He picked up the phone, punched in a number, and then spoke into the mouthpiece, “We’re taking the next exit and finding something to eat. By the way, you’re following too close.”

After he’d put the phone back, she turned around to look out the back window. “The blue car, right?”

“No, the gray Honda behind the blue.”

“How long have they been following us?”

“Since we left the airport. This car has a tracking device with a fifty-mile radius, and once we’re in Holy Oaks, Jules Wesson, the senior agent in charge of this operation, will always have us under surveillance.”

“That won’t do us much good. It’s a little town, and we’ll walk as much as we drive.”

“You’re going to be wearing a cute little tracking device too. I’m not sure what it will be in, but probably a pin or a bracelet.”

It was actually comforting to know that the FBI would be tracking her as she moved about town.

“I’m sure Jules Wesson is efficient, but I still wish that Pete were in Holy Oaks.”

“He wouldn’t be much good there. He’s never been a field agent. Jules Wesson and Noah and I will feed him information as we get it, and hopefully Pete will be able to figure out the where and when and how. Think there’s a decent place to eat in Sweetwater? That’s the next exit.”

“There’s a diner in the center of town. The food’s actually pretty good.”

“What are you in the mood for?”

“A big, juicy hamburger with pickles. And fries. Lots of French fries.”

“Sounds good to me.”

She didn’t need to give him directions. Sweetwater boasted one main street, aptly named Main Street, and the diner was located right smack in the middle of it.

Laurant slid into a booth by the front window. Nick sat down beside her. There wasn’t much room.

“Don’t you want to sit across from me?” she asked.

“No,” he replied as he reached for the sticky, plasticized menu standing on end behind the salt and pepper shakers. “We’re gonna start practicing this lovey-dovey stuff.”

Nick ordered two double hamburgers, a double order of fries, and two glasses of milk. She told him he ate like a farmhand, and that reminded him of a story about her brother involving the cafeteria line at college. By the time Nick finished recounting the incident, she was laughing so hard, there were tears in her eyes. She had no idea Tommy had been such a prankster.

“He started the food fight?”

“Tommy wasn’t always a priest,” Nick reminded her.

He told her another story, and then another. A couple of times the other patrons of the diner turned at the sound of their laughter. They saw a young couple completely at ease with each other.

Laurant was thoroughly relaxed by the time they got back into the car and headed out again.

“Maybe you should slow down. I don’t see the gray car,” she said.

“That’s the way it’s supposed to work. You aren’t supposed to see them.”

“Are they going to follow us all the way to Holy Oaks.”

“Yes, they are.”

“How many agents are there waiting for us?”

“Enough.”

“Isn’t this costing a lot of money?”

“We want to get him, Laurant. Cost isn’t important.”

“Yes, but what happens if it takes longer than everyone expects?”

“Then it takes longer.”

Laurant removed the clip and let her hair fall around her shoulders, then she tilted the seat back. She had just closed her eyes when Nick said, “I don’t get it.”

“What don’t you get?”

“You . . . living in such a little town.”

“I like it.”

“I don’t believe it. You’re a big-city girl at heart.”

“Actually, I’m not at all. I grew up in a little village.”

“Your grandfather happened to own the village,” he pointed out. “You lived on an estate. You can call it a small town if you want.”

“And I went to school in a tiny little town. It was almost cloistered. I really like Holy Oaks, Nick. The people there are good and decent. And it’s beautiful. And peaceful . . . at least it used to be peaceful.”

“Yeah, well if you like it so much, how come you rent the house you live in? Why didn’t you buy it?”

“I wanted to concentrate on the business first,” she explained. “And Mrs. Talbot didn’t want to sell the house just yet. She raised her family there, and even though she’s living in a nursing home now, she isn’t ready to let it go. I’m thinking about buying a cabin on the lake. It needs a lot of work though.”

“How come you haven’t already purchased it?”

“Steve Brenner.”

“The Holy Oaks Advancement Society guy?”

“He owns the cabin.”

“I think the guy wants to own
you.

“What?”

“It seems that when Agents Farley and Feinberg went into your house, the neighbor lady called the sheriff and he came running.”

“L.A. doesn’t run anywhere.”

“The sheriff’s name is L.A.?”

She smiled. “Lard Ass,” she explained. “Everyone calls him that. He isn’t highly thought of in Holy Oaks.”

“I guess not.”

“I didn’t mean to interrupt. What happened when the sheriff showed up? Did he know they were FBI? They must have told him.”

“No, they didn’t and wouldn’t tell him anything, but the odd thing is, he never asked. He was busy telling them all about Steve Brenner’s designs on you. Seems Brenner’s telling everyone he’s going to marry you.”

“He’s such a jerk.”

“Sounds like it. One of the agents told the sheriff all about our hot and heavy relationship, and he couldn’t wait to leave.”

“No doubt to tell Steve.”

“No doubt.”

“He’s the kind of man who has trouble understanding he can’t get everything he wants.”

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