Shelby's Secret (Once a Marine, Always a Marine Book 4) (4 page)

“Why not?” She took her hand off the scanner and folded them together in front of her. “It was your dream.”

Mike went through the door and waved Shelby toward the elevator. Marriage was still his dream, somewhere inside of him. A woman he could love, who would love and understand him. He thought he’d put that aside years ago and then he’d watched his friends begin to fall like dominoes. Each and every one of them had found what Mike only dreamed existed between a man and a woman. And that dark place inside of him had flickered to life.

It was hope.

And then he’d walked into that damned conference room and seen Shelby. She’d been his hope, his dream. But fame and fortune had been hers. Not a quiet life with a simple man who had simple needs.

He stayed quiet all the way to the elevator. After pressing the button, he pulled out his card holder and a pen. He produced a business card from his pocket, wrote his personal cell number on the back and handed it to Shelby. “If anything else happens, this is my work number. My cell is on the back.”

She took the card slowly, her blue eyes wide at his cold tone. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be asking any personal questions. I guess I was just curious about an old friend.”

The ride back up to the conference room was frosty and awkward. As the doors opened, he could see her worried manager standing with the Chief. He motioned Shelby off but stayed behind. “I didn’t marry, Shelby, because my dream packed her suitcase fifteen years ago and never looked back.”

***

He sat in a beige four-door sedan, half a block away from the Phoenix Police station. He’d chosen the car expressly because there were a million others just like it—everywhere. It was invisible.

Just like he was.

But not to her. She was finally seeing him. He didn’t think she understood his message, but she would.

And there she was. Walking out of the glass doors with her huge manager.
Shelby Lynn
. Even her name sounded delicate. Her voice might be broadcast for everyone, but her songs were only for him. He’d been her secret love since she started singing, and she wrote her love songs about them being together one day—he was sure of it.

She’ll never love you. Why would she?

“Yes, she will,” he whined. He gave himself a sharp slap to the forehead. “She already does.” Three more sharp quick slaps, and he felt under control again.

Control was important.

Just a glimpse of his love was enough. For now. She was so beautiful and petite, like a doll. Light blond hair that was corkscrew curly. The style was natural and she’d never tried to straighten it. He thought she understood that he preferred her that way. All that make-up they made her wear for the TV performances could be forgiven, because he understood she was sending her messages to him.

She loved him.

Only him.

But she doesn’t, you little turd. She sings for everyone else but not you. She doesn’t see you.

“But she does.”

She could
, the voice whispered.
You showed her what we can do. You showed her that we’ve been watching. All these years.

“I showed her. I showed her how her first song was about us. About how much our love means to her.”

Now you need to show her more. She needs to understand what we are to her.

“Yes.” He nodded. The voice was making sense again. Not belittling him like it usually did. Shelby was what was important, and controlling the mean voice that told him he wasn’t good enough. The voice that sounded so much like . . . he didn’t want to think about
him
.

He gave himself a quick slap to the side of the head, just to make sure he was still in control. The sting was small compared to what might happen if the voice took over. Then it would make him do things. Worse than he’d already done. Things that made his reflection in the mirror all dark and hazy, like he wasn’t even there. Just the voice.

But he was back in control.

And he had work to do.

He whistled as he pulled away from the curb. Just another tan car in a desert landscape.

***

“Want to tell me what that was back there?”

Shelby pulled her gaze from the odd mix of new businesses and abandoned warehouses that populated downtown Phoenix. Expensive cars mixed with the homeless on Seventh Avenue as they headed away from the police headquarters and back to the mansion on the Camelback Mountain. “I did grow up here, Madge. It was inevitable that I’d run into someone I knew. Eventually.” She just hadn’t counted on that person being big, muscled and pissed off.

“Tell me about Detective Mike Hanson. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you,” she said.

“You tell me all the time that men can’t keep their eyes off of me,” Shelby said. Her tone was dismissive, even though the long looks made her uncomfortable. But she’d learned to deal with it. The constant presence of fans was something they never told you about when you became lucky enough to reach stardom. The stares. Eyes watching everything she did, undressing her, envying her, assessing her—sometimes finding flaws and other times simply adoring.

“Don’t play possum with me, young lady. His eyes said all kinds of things, and none of it was the normal stuff you’ve dealt with.”

Shelby sighed. “He loved me once. More than life, he’d said.” She could feel moisture welling up in her eyes, and that response ticked her off because there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about the situation. Looking away from her manager, she blinked rapidly to keep the tears from falling. Oh sure, she’d laughed it off back in the little room, but when he’d walked into that room with the Chief—well, she’d been glad she was sitting.

“We can talk about it later, honey. But I want to know about him, especially if he’s working the case.” Madge took one of Shelby’s hands and squeezed.

Honestly, the woman was more like a second mother, especially since she’d lost her own at a young age. “Thanks for understanding,” she choked out. One lone tear broke loose and scalded a path down her cheek. He’d looked even better than she remembered. He was still huge, especially in the shoulders, and his hair was still black as night. Not a single gray hair yet to mar the shine. And those green eyes of his. Like a forest just before the dawn, deep and mysterious. All courtesy of a fiery Italian mother.

He wasn’t magazine pretty, but his rugged features blended together, making him look like some ancient king who battled alongside his men and not from a throne. He’d always made her heart flutter just with a look.

And those lips. Dear God. They were still as magical as she remembered in her dreams. She knew he’d meant the kiss as a punishment, as a final goodbye of sorts, but she didn’t think it turned out the way he’d intended. God knows it hadn’t for her. She’d been prepared for an assault when he’d pulled her closer, and maybe she felt like she deserved it. But that’s not what happened. His lips had touched hers, and a fiery heat ignited low in her, from a place long grown cold.

She sighed. She hadn’t thought seeing Mike would be a reality, but she’d harbored a secret yearning. Leaning her head against the warm glass of the window, she stared sightlessly now, lost in the past. Lost to a time when life was rough, but she’d been young and in love with a bad boy. A boy who’d loved her more than she’d loved him, she realized now. She’d been selfish. She hadn’t understood that her dreams would crush his.

As a woman, she knew her choices had consequences and coming home would be much harder than she’d thought. She shook her head and admonished herself for being a silly girl.

She was here, and the past was just that. Past. Time to build her future, and nothing and no one was going to stop her.

Chapter 4

A noise penetrated the quiet. An urgent chirp that didn’t make sense at first. And when it did, Mike reached over and grabbed the offending noise maker. His cell phone. He didn’t even bother opening his eyes, knowing it was the middle of the night.

Hitting the on button with his thumb, he held it up to his ear, ready to chew someone’s ass for waking him. “Hanson.”

“Mike,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry to wake you.”

“Shelby?” Just like that he was awake. His eyes popped open in the semi dark of his room, and he sat up. Her voice quivered, and her breath came in rapid spurts causing his grip to tighten on the phone. “What’s wrong?”

“He did it again.”

“Who did what?”

“He murdered another woman.”

Mike was already off the bed and had one leg into a pair of jeans that he’d left on the floor.

“And it looks like my third video.” She started crying.

The sound knifed through him, but he pushed through the pain so that he could focus. Get to her. “Did you get another email?”

“Yes,” she sobbed. “It’s horrible. Can you come over, please?”

“I’ll be right there. Don’t touch anything, hopefully it won’t delete this time.”

“It already did.”

Mike paused on his way to the door and closed his eyes. “Damn.” He heard some sniffs and a deep breath. She was getting herself under control while they talked.

“I recorded some of it on my phone when I realized what it was. Is that okay?”

Mike was glad she sounded stronger. And what she’d done was brilliant. “That’s amazing, Shel. I’m out the door now. Make sure your guards know I’m coming. Tell them to look for a black Ford F-250 truck.”

“Thank you, Mike.”

Once the line disconnected, he grabbed a clean shirt and raked his fingers through his hair. Shoes, keys, notepad, his gun and he was out the door.

The time was exactly one a.m. Once he was in his truck, he placed a call to his lead detective.

“Wolfe.”

“Our boy killed again,” Mike said. “Shelby Lynn just got another email.”

“Shit.”

There was a pause, and Mike could hear fabric rustling in the background.

“That’s two in less than a week. Same M.O.?”

“I’m on my way to Shelby’s now. The bastard’s email deleted itself again, but Shelby recorded some of it on her phone.”

“Someone was using her head.”

The tone was admiring, and Mike had to agree. Not many folks could think under pressure, especially when the situation involved something gruesome. Like a murder. Seasoned cops wouldn’t have reacted so fast. He was damned proud of her, and he’d tell her so when he got there.

“As soon as I get it, I’ll forward it to you. I want a hard copy ASAP that we can give to Casey as well. Also check with dispatch, see if they’ve had questionable or suspicious calls that are holding around abandoned buildings. I want anything, especially noise complaints. Shelby said the scene looked like her third video, and if that’s the case, this guy will need another big space.”

“Got it. I’ll be at the office, waiting.”

“Thanks, Daniel.”

He hung up and focused on getting to her. The streets were relatively empty this time in the morning, so he quickly reached the freeway and punched it. He took fifteen minutes to get to Shelby from the moment she called.

Her place was something he’d seen only in magazines. The grounds were gated and private, with a long driveway. A guard met him at the gate, flashlight in hand. Mike held up his badge, and the guard nodded and waved him through. He was a big guy, but young. Mid-twenties at the most, but he looked awake and confident. And that’s what Shelby needed.

He parked and was met at the door by the manager. She was almost as tall as Mike, and built like she could have competed in the Olympics for power lifting. But the slight sheen around her eyes told the story. She was scared. “Ms. Henner,” he greeted.

“Call me Madge, Detective. I have a feeling we’ll be seeing a lot of each other. Unless, you catch this guy soon.”

Mike nodded. “Madge. Call me Mike, and I will catch him.” She looked hard into his eyes, as if gauging the truthfulness in his statement. Whatever she saw there must have assured her.

She nodded and opened the door wide to admit him. “I looked you up, you know,” she said as she led the way through the massive foyer.
 

Imported tiles lined the floor and marble columns flanked an enormous staircase. He could have fit his entire department inside the living room. “I figured you might. Shelby mentioned all the staff had background checks. I assumed that was done by you.” And in truth, he didn’t mind. He’d never had anything to hide. And he was glad someone was looking out for Shelby. Someone needed to.

“Your mother lives in New York, and your father is deceased. I found a sealed juvenile record. And then an exemplary military career with several medals awarded. Including a Medal of Honor and a Silver Star. Isn’t that for combat valor?”

Mike nodded. “It is.” But didn’t say anything else. He had a feeling she wasn’t done.

“I couldn’t find out exactly what you did in the Marines, but you finished as a Major. The lack of information leads me to believe you were in Intelligence. You served two tours in Afghanistan, and then came home and immediately went through the police academy. You didn’t stay long in patrol, working your way up to sergeant and then moving into homicide, where you’ve stayed.”