Authors: Jerrie Alexander
The Lost and Found people created problems. Separating her from her protectors could be difficult. Hiring outside help was dangerous. He’d always picked someone who needed money, and who no one would miss when they disappeared. Perhaps the time had come for him to ask his mentor for help.
One fact still troubled him. He couldn’t forget that Michelangelo had lied to him. Who else could be responsible for the shot taken at Christine? That act of betrayal would eventually have to be addressed. He sighed. Every good thing came to an end.
****
Chris’s hands trembled when she pushed her phone to Marcus. “I’m guessing it was a burner, and you won’t be able to trace the call.” Her entire body was in breakdown mode. Her insides felt as if they might liquefy at any moment.
His huge hand covered hers instead of the phone. Frustration overflowed. She stood, paced the floor of the small room, wishing she could vanish into thin air.
“Nate, do you have time to take a look?” Marcus handed him the cell.
“I’m on it.” Nate scooted back his chair. The scraping sounded much like fingernails on a blackboard.
“If y’all will excuse me, I’ll take care of these leftovers.” Kay fished out two fortune cookies and put them on the table. “Yell, if you need anything.”
Chris grabbed at the opportunity to do something, anything. “I’ll help.”
“I’ve got it,” Kay insisted. “You two have work to do.”
Chris stood, dumbfounded, as Nate and Kay disappeared. She felt Marcus’s presence before she turned around to face him. “Was I that obvious?” An inappropriate, nervous laugh bubbled up and out. “Have you been trained how to handle women who fall apart?”
“I wish.” He hooked a finger under her chin and lifted until her gaze met his. “You’re one hell of a woman, Chris Holland. A lot of other women would have fallen apart by now.”
“Don’t you see? I am this far from it.” She measured a tiny space with her thumb and forefinger.
“You’re wrong.” He smiled down at her. “I’ve never met a woman as strong and determined as you.”
“I don’t feel very damn strong.”
“Anytime you need to punch somebody or just scream bloody hell, I’m here. Let me have it.”
Chris’s throat clenched, tears she’d refused to shed for years threatened and then vanished. She was fine. Her nerves were steady as a rock, and she knew why. “I can’t take credit for being strong. It’s you. I draw strength from your quiet, easy way of taking things in stride. How do you do it? Don’t you ever just lose it? Go over the—”
He interrupted her with a brush of his lips. Soft, warm, and sexy. She wanted to ask for more, but couldn’t find her voice. He leaned his head back, stared into her eyes as if he could see her soul, and then kissed her again. Longer and harder. Deeper and more sensual. Every nerve ending in her body fired like a barrage of Fourth of July bottle rockets.
He ended the kiss, leaving them both breathing hard. “By ‘it,’ if you’re referring to my temper, I try not to ‘lose it.’ It’s not a pretty sight. On the other hand, if you meant my emotions. The answer is, not very often.”
Was he saying what she thought? Was she the exception? There was only one way to find out. Chris rose up on her toes and kissed him back. Strong hands cupped her cheeks, cradling her head and pulling her closer. His tongue slid across her bottom lip, and she opened for him. The strength of the kiss deepened, and their tongues warred for control. She clutched his shoulders and held tight, because without something to hold on to she feared her legs would give out.
“I put on a fresh pot... Oh, shit. I’m sorry.”
Marcus released Chris from the kiss but not from his embrace. His hand wrapped around her waist and tugged her close. “No problem. We were just taking a break.”
Chris fought the blood rushing up her neck to her cheeks. She dislodged Marcus’s hand and almost ran from the room. “I’ll get the coffee.”
She made a quick trip to the restroom and splashed some cool water on her face. Talk about liquefying insides. She’d been kissed many times. None had ever affected her like Marcus’s. She’d lost her mind, thought only of her body and its needs. Totally forgotten the circumstances that had brought them together and that she’d known him only a few days.
Chris came out of the restroom to find Kay leaning against the counter. She held up her hand to silence Chris.
“Please, don’t apologize. You’ve nothing to be sorry for. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. Especially when you think the other one won’t notice.”
“Really?” Chris shook off her curiosity. “This is a place of business. It was out of line.”
“It’s Marcus’s business, too. After Tyrell came home from Colombia, he and Marcus bought a third of Lost and Found. Besides, you two aren’t the first to kiss in these offices.”
“Yes, but you and Nate are married.”
“We weren’t then. He kissed me right here next to the coffeepot. I was too stupid to admit I was still in love with him at the time. We lost precious time together because of my stubbornness. Marcus of all people knows how quickly fate can change your life.”
“He loved her very much. I saw the shrine in his living room. I don’t think I could share him with a ghost.”
“He probably doesn’t know it, but the fire may have set him free.” Kay caught Chris by the hand and squeezed. “If you want him, you’ll have to fight for him, but I think you can do it.”
Kay poured two cups of coffee and handed them to Chris. “Thanks,” Chris said, stopping at the door and looking back. “For everything.”
A few short steps away, Marcus sat with the notepad in front of him. His hand zipped across the page. What had he heard? Maybe he was just looking for a way to steer the day back to business. Did he regret kissing her? Wish she hadn’t initiated a deeper kiss? God, she hoped not. She took a deep breath and marched right into the room.
“Thanks,” he said, reaching out to take the cups from her.
“You’re welcome,” she said.
He patted the chair next to him. “Let’s talk about the phone call.”
“Other than the jerk is nuts, what did we learn?” Chris dropped next to Marcus. He slid one hand under the seat of her chair and pulled her closer as if she weighed nothing.
“For starters, he knows you came to us. In fact, he knew you were here, and we were listening. Which means we should relocate soon.”
“Well, don’t I feel stupid.”
Marcus hit her with his thousand-watt smile again. “Don’t. You talked with him. It’s my job to catch and analyze everything that was said.”
And wasn’t that something for her to remember? She was Marcus’s job. “And we need to figure out where he picked up that piece of information.”
“Exactly.”
“Are we safe staying here?” she asked. “He could set fire to the office.”
“He’d be pretty brazen to launch that kind of attack in the daylight. The risk of showing himself is too great. While Nate checks your cell phone, I need to look through your purse. The killer knows too much. Somehow, he put a tracker on you.”
Chill bumps raced up her back and across her chest. The thought the crazy bastard had gotten close enough to put something on her phone sent the Chinese food in her stomach to churning. She dumped the contents of her purse on the table and handed it to Marcus.
“Tear it apart if you need to.”
He inspected each item carefully. He picked up her billfold, paused, and caught her gaze as if asking permission. Chris nodded. There was nothing he couldn’t see. She’d started carrying the bare necessities long ago. The corners of his mouth twitched when he got a look at her driver’s license.
“Go ahead and laugh.” She gave his shoulder a playful but firm shove. It didn’t surprise her when he didn’t budge. “It was particularly windy that day.”
“I like your hair loose and curly, like it is today.”
“I call it the light socket look.”
Apparently satisfied a tracer hadn’t been hidden in her lip gloss, he rolled every inch of her handbag through his fingers. His gaze was intense as he slowly separated the lining from the leather and inspected it.
Nate rejoined them. “Find anything?”
“Nothing here. You?” Marcus asked.
“The phone is clean.” Nate handed her phone back.
“Thanks for checking,” Chris said as he sat across from her.
“No problem,” Nate said, pulling his notepad in front of him.
“Back to analyzing what we learned from the killer,” Marcus said. “The killer believes you know why he wants to kill you. He said Wayne’s death was your fault.”
“Well, that makes two of us who think that.”
“Bullshit,” Marcus snapped. “We had this discussion. None of this rests on your shoulders.”
Chris thought back over the phone conversation. “He got really upset when I said he needed help. Said that train left a long time ago. What could it mean?”
“To be exact, he said that train left years ago.” Marcus’s eyes darkened. “Is he saying at some point in his life he needed help but didn’t get it?”
“From me?”
“Not necessarily.” Marcus lifted his cup to his mouth. He blew on the hot coffee, and a swirl of steam caressed his face. “I’m just looking for something that will give us some insight into this bastard’s personality.” He took a sip then stared into the dark liquid.
“Could he be someone from your past? Beyond two years ago?” Nate asked.
“No way.” She shook her head in denial. “Maybe his mama was a blonde. Maybe she abused him. Maybe he kills her every other time.”
“There’s definitely a method to his madness,” Marcus said. “Our job is to put the puzzle pieces together.”
“There’s nobody from my past who hates me.” Nate’s assumption that it might be someone she knew was ludicrous, and her temper flared at his suggestion. “After Chelsea moved to North Riverview, we weren’t close enough to have made a mutual enemy.”
“Then let’s dig a little deeper into the victims’ families,” Nate continued as if she hadn’t disagreed.
“Okay.” Chris reached for the files. “What are we looking for?”
“You got me to thinking when you said that everyone you’d ever loved was dead,” Marcus said. “Made me wonder if the other women had lost their families, too.”
Nate had been staring at her purse. “Not to change the subject, but you searched that handbag thoroughly?”
“I did. But there’s a tracker somewhere. He knew we were here, and I don’t believe we were followed.” Marcus stabbed his fingers through his hair. “There’s only one place left.”
“Where?” Chris asked.
“My car.” He stood and stormed out the door.
Chapter 13
Marcus and Nate barely slowed their steps as they passed Kay’s desk. Marcus forced his clenched hands to relax. He ignored the tension in his neck.
“We’ll be in the parking lot,” Nate said, matching him stride for stride.
She nodded. “I’ll be here if Chris needs something.”
Marcus hit the remote, turning off the alarm. He raised the hood and began his inspection. Nate opened the front door and slid across the seat, checking under the dash. The two of them slowly inspected every inch. “I got nothing,” Marcus said.
Nate raised his head. “Me either. I’ll take the rear.”
Dressed in expensive slacks and a white shirt, Nate didn’t hesitate to roll up his sleeves and hit the pavement. Time and again, he’d proved his friendship. A more reliable man had never drawn a breath. If that made Marcus’s respect for Nate a bromance, so be it.
Marcus dropped to the pavement and slid under the left wheel well. He ran his hands over every surface, scooted even farther under the car, and found nothing. “Anything?” he called out.
“Not yet,” Nate answered.
Marcus moved to the other side. He’d barely slid under when he saw the magnetic tracker. “Got it.”
“Don’t pull it,” Nate said. A second later, he crawled next to Marcus. “Son of a bitch likes to know every move you make. Let’s keep him informed.”
“What are you thinking?” Marcus and Nate pushed out from under the car.
“That you have things to do. Deal with the fire department, insurance company, and most important, salvage what you can of your belongings. You can’t do that and look over your shoulder at the same time.”
“I hired someone else to take care of that stuff. I’m not leaving Chris unattended.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Nate’s eyebrows pulled together. “But you can accomplish everything you need to if you leave your car right where it is and take Kaycie’s. Tomorrow, I’ll drive it to my appointment with the feds and then pick up Kaycie for Wayne’s funeral.”
“And if the killer decides to take a shot at you?”
Nate’s furrowed brow shifted to a slight smirk. “If he shows up, he’ll figure out we outsmarted him. He’s not going to fuck with me while I’m at the FBI office or the funeral. He’s probably monitoring from a distance, and my stops will make him curious as hell.”