Brad checked his watch. “Time has a way of flying when you least want it to.”
His words had her turning around. She placed the bottle on the counter. “Thanks for coming. You must have known I didn’t want to be alone.”
He lifted one shoulder, let it fall. “I guessed.”
“You were probably one hell of a detective.”
“I like to think so.” Brad stood, carried his plate to the sink. “Let me help you clean up.” He reached for a box of the remaining Kung Pao chicken but she captured his hand to stop him, then froze.
Their gazes connected, their breaths stilling. A magnetic force pulled her closer to him. He leaned forward and she met him halfway.
The kiss startled them both. They broke away quickly, both talking about the lateness of the hour and the early start to their workdays.
She walked him to the front door, as nervous as a girl on her first date. He’d been as taken aback as she, and now neither seemed to know what to say. Despite Brad’s disagreement, they hadn’t liked each other from the beginning. So the sizzling attraction flaring made her both uncomfortable and defensive.
A relationship was the last thing on her mind. Well, it had been…until tonight. Being with Brad had given her mind the opportunity to see what could be—one half of a couple. And she’d liked it too much.
At the door, Brad spun around, and before she could react he caught her in his arms and kissed her, this time without hesitation, without pulling back. This wasn’t a kiss from a man unsure of himself but from one who knew what he wanted, suspected she wanted the same thing.
Kate’s hands fluttered against his chest as she melted into the touch of his warm lips against hers. She’d forgotten what it felt like to be this close to a man, to feel this connection. The reminder sent her senses into overload.
Then it was over, Brad lifting his head to trail his fingers down her cheek. “Good night, Kate.”
Her tongue thick in her mouth, she barely managed a reply. She didn’t watch him walk to his car but listened to his retreating footsteps and the sound of the engine starting. It hummed in tune with her heart, and she resisted the urge to skip down the hallway.
Brad hadn’t said he’d call her but after that kiss, she just might have to call him. Her face hot, she pressed her hands against her cheeks. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been kissed like that or any other way. And Brad’s touch had been an eye-opener, giving her a bird’s-eye view of what she was missing out on in life.
A knock on the door wiped the smile from her face. Had Brad left something? She did a quick scan of the kitchen before retreating to the door to answer. Caution had her brushing the curtain aside again, and her blood iced. A scream built up in her throat before she released it at a deafening level.
John Ramsey’s face stared back at her.
Kate’s call came less than ten minutes after he left, and Brad sped through several red lights and curbed the truck too many times to count before he pulled into the driveway of her two-story plantation-style house. The sight of three police units propelled him out of the car and he raced up the concrete to her front door.
Uniformed officers milled around the living room while one stood talking to Kate, who sat on a plush sofa with her hands clasped together and her face pale. Brad came to her side and she looked up, relief darkening her eyes.
“What’s going on?” He sat down beside her, took her hand in his. She curled her fingers inward, squeezing his hand.
“I saw him, Brad. Ramsey was at my front door. I know it sounds ridiculous but it was his face.”
Shock twisted his insides. Nothing was ridiculous when it came to John Ramsey. Brad removed his phone he’d clipped to his belt, trying not to think of the potential nightmare if this one prisoner had somehow escaped maximum-security prison. The officer standing in front of them asked a question but Brad held up a finger to hold him off.
“This is Jericho. Put me through to Sergeant Honesly now.”
The switchboard operator connected him immediately and the sergeant’s gruff voice answered. “Boss, what’s up?”
“Ramsey. Is he in his cell?”
“Where else would he be?” A chuckle accompanied the low growl.
“It’s not a trivia question, Honesly. Check on him now.”
Brad’s tone snapped the sergeant to attention. “Yes, sir. Hold the line.”
“This is Brad Jericho,” Kate introduced Brad to the questioning officer. “He’s the warden at Marsden.”
Static crackled over the line when Honesly released the hold button. “Sir, Ramsey is in his cell, playing solitaire.”
“Thanks.” Brad ended the call before the sergeant could ask any questions. He returned his phone to the belt holder before shifting on the sofa to face Kate. “Ramsey’s still in his cell.”
Kate shook her head, her lower lip caught between her teeth. “I saw him, Brad. I’m not imagining things.” She twisted one lock of hair around her finger. “He was standing right there when I pulled the curtain aside.”
“Sir, if you wouldn’t mind answering some questions,” the police officer interrupted. “Do you have any reason to believe John Ramsey was, at any point during this evening, out of his cell?”
Brad jerked his head up. “No. The guy’s on death row.” He gave Kate’s hand a reassuring squeeze. He didn’t doubt her for one second. Ramsey was more slippery than a snake on ice and he had, without a doubt, made connections on the inside. Most of those connections might not be willing to help him, but if they treasured their lives, they would.
“Right. Ms. Elliott is aware of this but is adamant she saw him. We told her it’s an impossibility but she is insistent that we speak with Mr. Ramsey.”
“Please don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” Kate snapped, yanking her hand out of Brad’s. “I know it’s impossible. It doesn’t change what I saw.”
“It could have been the light—”
She interrupted the cop before he could continue. “It wasn’t the light. It wasn’t my imagination and it wasn’t exhaustion. Believe me. I know how ludicrous this sounds but that was John Ramsey’s face at my door. I’d stake my career on it.”
“That’s good enough for me.” Just before he stood, Brad caught the flash of surprise in her eyes. “It might seem impossible but if there’s one thing I’ve learned in dealing with killers, especially this one, it’s that they can be sneaky as hell.”
The low murmur of voices in the room quieted. Brad figured it was because he’d sided with the illogical woman in the room. With a nod toward the door, he made short work of escorting the officers out of Kate’s house and onto the porch. He didn’t take much time to explain Ramsey’s penchant for games but he passed on enough information to make the cops believers as well. One of the officers, after confirming with his station, promised a patrol car would make regular rounds by her house.
He returned to Kate’s side, sitting down on the edge of the coffee table to put himself across from her. Taking her hands, he chafed them between his own. “How are you holding up?”
She lifted one shoulder, let it fall. “That’s going to have to be one of those questions I answer much, much later.”
“How about some coffee?”
“You know those cops were right. I couldn’t have seen what I saw, so why did you tell them you believed me?”
“Because I do.” When her gaze fluttered to his face, he leaned in closer. “Listen to me. If John Ramsey targeted you, odds are good he didn’t just pick you out of the newspaper two weeks ago. He’s been planning this for a long time, which means he’s had both time and opportunity to set things into motion.”
“Do you really think he has a twin we don’t know about?” Kate lowered her head, drew in a deep breath and met his gaze once more.
“I doubt it, but what I don’t doubt is John’s craftiness. Haven’t you heard the saying that everyone has a twin in this world?”
“And John Ramsey’s just happens to live right here in the Lowcountry?”
“No, but desperate people are willing to do pretty much anything for money, and before you ask me for an explanation, I don’t have one. It’s more of a theory.”
Kate slid her hands out of his and stood, crossing her arms across her chest. The fearful look in her hazel eyes had been replaced by the hungry one of a reporter on a breaking story. “You think Ramsey somehow tracked down someone who looks like he does to pose as him?” Her brows rose in direct proportion to the decibel level of her voice. “Do you know how crazy that sounds?”
“I was thinking more along the lines of a mold of Ramsey’s face. It’s not difficult to become someone else with the right equipment.”
She lowered her arms. “Okay. Let’s just suppose that’s true. He would need an accomplice with much more pull than a regular thug.” She snapped her fingers. “Someone like a defense attorney.”
Brad frowned. He didn’t like where this was going…at all. “Is there something you aren’t telling me?”
“Probably, but in this instance I’ll fill you in.”
Seconds later, Brad’s temper simmered. “You should have told me about the meeting with Salli before now.”
“It just happened this morning.” She matched his glare. “And I don’t report to you.” The snap cleared her face and she closed her eyes briefly, opening them with an apology. “I’m sorry. I know you’re just concerned for my safety and I shouldn’t take it out on you. That was the call I was telling you about earlier. I thought I’d better tell someone where I was going but when I couldn’t reach you I took a chance. I’m sorry for snapping.”
“It’s all right. Why don’t you go pack a bag and we’ll get out of here?” He expected an argument, justification for staying home, anything but her docile obedience.
Brad shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks and did a quick detective’s survey of Kate’s living space. Family photos adorned the walls and the bookshelf in the corner. The modest-sized television surprised him a bit considering her line of work.
A rock tune he didn’t recognize caught his attention but it ended quickly, replaced by the sound of Kate’s voice.
“Who are you?”
The sudden anxiety in her tone had him racing down the hallway. He made it to her bedroom just as she hung up. “Who was it?”
“I don’t know.” She threw the cell phone atop a blue-gray comforter. “Some guy who said he’d be seeing me.”
“Was the number blocked?” At her nod, he swore. “Let’s just get you out of here and we’ll worry about him later.” Without asking if she was finished packing, he zipped her suitcase and lifted it off the edge of the bed.
To protect her, Brad needed to get her to his house. There he knew the layout, every way in and out. Here she was vulnerable, open to any attack. He took hold of her arm and towed her down the hallway.
Brad slid behind the steering wheel of his truck, glancing over at Kate to make sure she was buckled in. His cell phone rang before he could put the key in the ignition. He answered the call while Kate stared out the side window.
“You won’t be able to keep her from me.”
His blood icing, Brad curled his fingers tighter around the cell. He didn’t want to alarm Kate. Tonight had been enough. “Oh really?” He kept his voice calm, casual even.
“She’s mine, and I will have her.” The line went dead before Brad could respond, and it took all of his composure not to sling the phone.
You won’t be able to keep her from me.
How many times had that one statement played over and over in his head as he stood at his sister’s gravesite? Harder still was knowing Ramsey had been right.
He’d always enjoyed chess. The intricacies of the game, the possible moves, outwitting his opponent—all of it had intrigued Ramsey from the first time he’d picked up a pawn.
Long after he’d moved on from the game, he likened each choice he made in life to chess, choosing each step with as much cunning as he would if seated across from a challenger. In a manner of speaking, he was.
Lips twisting into a smile, Ramsey lay down on the cot and stacked his hands behind his head. Brad Jericho. The ultimate opponent. The man had taken away his one pleasure in life, locked him away in a cage like an animal on display. And thought there wouldn’t be repercussions.
Ramsey’s legs moved restlessly on the cot. He heard the creaks of other springs as fellow inmates sought sleep on the uncomfortable beds. Those men would remain behind bars until their appeals ran out then they’d walk solemnly to the death chamber, accepting their fate.
Ramsey bit off a curse. Not him. He was going out fighting, and if Lady Luck was on his side again, he’d get to experience the sweet taste of freedom once more. He smiled again, this time imagining Kate Elliott’s face when she saw his outside her window. If only he’d really been there instead of having to use a flunky with a custom-made mask.
Though his guy had detailed Kate’s reaction to him, it wasn’t the same. Ramsey wanted to see the fear in her eyes. It had been too long since he’d witnessed the look of abject terror on a woman’s face seconds before she died. He missed it.
Mostly, he missed the art of killing. Brad Jericho had taken that away from him. For that, the bastard would pay. While Kate Elliott would be a nice distraction, Ramsey wanted to end the game standing over the prison warden’s dead body.
He closed his eyes. “Checkmate.”
Brad was keeping something from her. Kate didn’t need to ask any questions. She could see the truth on his face. She’d done enough investigating to recognize knowledge someone didn’t want to impart, and ever since he’d gotten the phone call, he’d become even more protective, ushering her out of the car with his hand at her back and making sure the curtains were drawn in the living room before leaving her.
She watched him now as he placed a mug of coffee on the reclaimed pirate’s trunk in front of her. He avoided her gaze, or maybe it he was just keeping an eye out for whatever danger lurked around the corner.
“I know there’s something you’re trying not to tell me. Maybe you think I’m too frail to hear it, but whatever it is, I can handle it.” She touched the back of his hand, drawing his gaze to her face. “Keeping me in the dark won’t prevent what’s going to happen.”
His jaw clenched. “Nothing’s going to happen. The police department will be patrolling your neighborhood tonight, and first thing tomorrow morning the investigative unit will wire your phones and set up surveillance equipment in the house across the street.”
“When did all this happen?” She didn’t recall him talking to any of the police officers at her house.
“I made a call in the kitchen.” Brad gave her a reassuring smile that dazzled her.
What was it about this man that made her trust him? She didn’t know him, well, not really, and yet she sensed he was a man she could place absolute faith in. And she’d never been one to trust easily.
She drew her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “Ramsey is calling the shots right now.” Her lungs ached. “He has the upper hand and knows it.”
Brad turned to face her, tapping one hand against her knee to gain her attention. “No, he doesn’t. He might have stumbled ahead in the first lap but he can’t keep up this momentum, not with his hands tied like they are.”
“I don’t know.” Kate shook her head. “He has an awful long reach from where he is.”
When Brad didn’t respond she lowered her legs and took a sip of the coffee. The hot, bitter liquid warmed her and she wrapped both hands around the mug, wondering when she’d gotten so cold.
All the years of living without fear seemed to mock her now. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so careless. How else could Ramsey have gotten her address? She must have let it slip somewhere, given it to a source. And Ramsey had found the right person to pay off.
If she’d listened to her parents, taken a job that wasn’t as risky, she wouldn’t be in this situation. She might be bored out of her skull, but it would certainly beat being this terrified.
“Kate?” Brad shook her shoulder gently.
She pulled herself out of her thoughts and summoned a smile from somewhere. “I was just thinking if I’d chosen a different career path I wouldn’t have set myself up as a target for John Ramsey.”
“It wasn’t your career that attracted him, Kate. Ramsey has a certain type he likes.” Brad winced. “As much as I hate to say it, you fit the bill.”
“Still, I made myself public.”
“His other victims didn’t and he still found them. The perverts and sick bastards are more determined to find you than you are to stay hidden.”
Kate forgot all about her coffee. “That’s comforting.”
He lifted her cup and handed it to her, then opened the lid of the trunk. She peered over his shoulder. The interior held an array of guns, from small snub-nosed pistols to what looked like an AK-47.
“You didn’t mention you moonlighted as an arms dealer.”
Brad chuckled. “These are all legal, and I have no intention of selling any of them. They’ve saved my life on many occasions.” He picked up one of the pistols and closed the lid. “When I first became a cop I thought a gun was the only thing that could save my life. It didn’t take me long to figure out that self-control played a larger part.”
Entranced by the sound of his voice, Kate leaned into him, her shoulder brushing his.
“Ramsey thinks he’s going to win this sick little game of his because he believes he has power over you. Once he realizes you have control, he’ll see defeat.” He handed her the pistol.
Kate turned the black steel over in her hand. “He’s motivated by fear. As long as he thinks I’m scared, he feels like he’s winning.”
“Exactly. Take away his power and he loses.”
“It sounds a lot easier than it is. Somehow he’s managed to find someone crazy enough or desperate enough to torture me. Odds are good that person isn’t all about the control.”
“True, but that person’s strings are being pulled by Ramsey. If this suddenly becomes less fun for Ramsey, your stalker will go away.”
Kate swallowed hard, stared down into the mug of coffee. “Or Ramsey will just tell him to kill me.”
Brad took the gun from her hand and laid it on top of the table. “That won’t happen.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because Ramsey would never give the kill to someone else.”
The response sat in Kate’s stomach like a lead brick. Brad was right. Ramsey wanted to kill her himself. He’d never give the thrill away. She’d seen the crime scene photos. He’d reveled in the kill. Allowing someone else to take his pleasure would be tantamount to admitting his own defeat.
“So how do you suggest I show no fear?” It sounded like a feat of gigantic proportions, considering her legs were in a permanent state of trembling.
Brad turned his head to look at her. “You don’t let Ramsey see you, for one. He can’t scare what he can’t see. That will frustrate him, which serves your purpose. Being a target of a serial killer would scare the hell out of anyone, but after Saturday this will all be over.”
“We don’t know his overeager assistant might not decide to take things into his own hands.”
“The police will find that guy long before Ramsey breathes his last.”
“And you know this how?”
Brad smiled. “Because he’s careless, and careless criminals always get caught.”
Kate released her hair from the clip securing it and dragged her hands through the long strands. Tension knotted the muscles in the back of her neck and she rolled her shoulders forward in a vain effort to relax.
She doubted she’d be doing much relaxing until Ramsey’s helpful assistant was arrested, though she had to admit, she felt safer with Brad. Her parents would be horrified she was at the home of a man she’d known only two days, which was precisely why she didn’t intend to tell them, not that keeping secrets from them was that difficult.
As much as her parents loved her and worried about her, their lives had undergone a drastic change when the nest fully emptied. Now they spent much of their time traveling and renewing lapsed friendships across the globe.
Brad got up from the sofa, moving as silently as a tiger stalking prey. For a man his size, he moved like he was made of feathers rather than hard muscle. “I’ll be back in a second.” He leaned down next to her, handing her the remote. “Just in case a second runs a bit longer.”
Though not really a big television watcher, Kate welcomed the technological intrusion tonight, idly clicking channels until she found a news station she liked. A few minutes of sports finally segued to a late-breaking story that captured her attention.
A craggy-faced reporter stood in front of a wooded area, the wind causing him to shout into the microphone. He covered his earpiece with the palm of one hand. “With the discovery of this latest victim, the community is left to wonder if Saturday’s execution will proceed as scheduled or if this newest discovery will stay the execution pending potential new charges.”
Kate tuned out the rest of the reporter’s words. “Brad.” She thought she called his name softly but his rapid response said she must have raised her voice.
“What’s wrong?” He appeared at her side as though he’d been standing right behind her all along.
“The police found another body. The reporter mentioned a possible stay of execution. Please tell me there are two executions scheduled for this Saturday.” She asked the question already knowing the answer. The state didn’t schedule back-to-back executions, and Marsden was the only correctional facility in the state that carried out death sentences. The reporter could only have been referring to John Ramsey.
“There isn’t.” Brad punched out numbers on his cell as he responded.
“This can’t be happening.” Kate covered her face with both hands. Had Ramsey known this was going to happen? Had he set this all up? What was it he’d said about the real killer confessing?
Thoughts scrambled together, creating a cacophony of noises in her head. She needed peace. Solitude. At least for tonight, where she felt safe. The morning would renew the harsh light of reality soon enough.
She vaguely heard Brad’s side of the conversation, certain words standing out.
Postponement. New trial.
Those same words made her sick. She stumbled to her feet and saw Brad glance at her. Waving away his concern, she went in search of the bathroom and cold water.
Seconds later Brad ended the call with a virulent curse, but when he called her name his tone had returned to normal.
“I’m okay.” Kate splashed some more water on her face, surveyed her red-rimmed eyes in the mirror. What a lie. She wasn’t even in the same house with okay. Though it wasn’t official, John Ramsey had just been granted a reprieve that gave him plenty of additional time to make her life hell.
Footsteps came down the hallway, stopped outside the bathroom door. “Are you sure?”
Why did his concern warm her so much? She pressed a palm against the door. “How about if we both just pretend I am, at least for tonight?”
Brad heaved a sigh. “The district attorney will have to decide if he’s going to charge Ramsey, which won’t happen until after an autopsy confirms homicide, and they can link the body to him. I’m sorry, Kate, but most likely Ramsey’s execution will be postponed, at least until after the autopsy.”
She stared at herself in the mirror and squared her shoulders. “Let’s just hope the DA decides not to charge Ramsey.” When Brad didn’t respond she opened the door to see the resigned look on his face. “Yeah, I know. Wishful thinking. If it walks like a duck…” Her words trailed off as she walked past him.
Brad caught hold of her arm, stopping her progress. “He’s not going to get to you, Kate. I don’t care if he were to be released from prison tomorrow. He won’t touch you.”
The strong assurance in his voice had her studying his face. “That sounds like you know him better than I thought.”
He released her arm. “I get to know all my prisoners.”