The Rogue Reviewer (Primrose, Minnesota Book 3) (19 page)

“I have something to confess,” she said as he
rolled off of her and tucked her into his side.

“I’m your first.”

“Ha, you wish.” She gave his chest a slight
slap. “Mace, I’m serious.”

“Okay, if you can confess in three seconds,
I’m all ears.”

“That’s fair. You did more than confess in
three seconds.”

She didn’t miss the amusement in his voice.
“Spill, Dara.”

“The night Evelyn was murdered, my friends
and I plotted the murder.”

“Come again?”

“We were tossing around ideas on how to kill
her – not in reality, though, in a novel. You wouldn’t believe the
methods we discussed.”

“Try me.”

“Smashing her with a car and shooting a
bullet into her brain were suggested, but the Columbian necktie
won.”

“Whose idea was that?”

“Marnie’s.”

“Not Alex?”

“No, and everyone else agreed.”

“And you’re just now telling me?”

“I’m not a suspect anymore, remember?”

“Why?”

“Because you cleared me.”

“No, why did you tell me?”

She drew small circles on his chest with her
fingertips, not in the least bit hesitant to explain. “I trust
you.”

“Evelyn didn’t die from a Columbian
necktie.”

“No,” she agreed around a yawn, “but that was
a pretty nasty gash across her throat.”

He leaned to kiss the top of her head then
reached to pull the blankets over them. “Sleep, sweetheart. You
need to concentrate on tomorrow’s rendezvous.”

“Yes, sir.” She sighed softly, closed her
eyes and snuggled closer to him. “And what an adventure it will
be.”

By ten o’clock a.m. the next morning, Mace
looked out over the crowd gathered at
Maverick’s
and
completely understood Dara’s description of
adventure.
The
line of people began at the table where Dara sat and wound around
several sections of books, until finally ending outside the front
door and halfway down the sidewalk, The place was a security
nightmare. Although most people stood in line, others wandered the
store, almost hidden by the tall bookshelves of each section. It
would be incredibly easy for their suspect to enter or exit without
notice. Dara seemed to take it in stride while she autographed
books, personalizing each copy.

Mace was so absorbed, he almost jumped at the
voice behind him.

“You look nervous, Turner.”

He turned and grinned. “Hey, Ryker, thanks
for coming.” He slapped the other man on the back.

“No problem. I’ve got a man at the front door
and one at the back. Figured between you, Jackson and me that
should be enough in here.”

“I had no idea there would be such a
crowd.”

Ryker snickered. “She obviously knows her
stuff.”

He bit back a grin. His friend had absolutely
no idea how well Dara knew her
stuff
. “She receives thank
you letters from men.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded. “I’ve seen some of them.”

“Go figure.” Ryker moved his gaze over the
room. “I’ll catch up with you later. I’m gonna mingle.”

Mace wasn’t surprised when the other man
entered the crowd,
mingling
by introducing himself to most
of the female influence in attendance. He shook his head and
chuckled. Ryker definitely appreciated the ladies.

He moved over and stood behind Dara, trying
not to grow impatient with the fans who shoved books at her as
minutes ticked by. He finally glanced at his watch and released a
heavy sigh. These had to be the longest two hours of his life. The
line of people seemed never-ending and he wondered if he would
survive the event. Dara, always the professional, kept that
beautiful smile on her face until finally, the store manager
announced an end to the signing.

Mace escorted her through the bookstore and
out the back door. The relief he felt getting her out of the crowd
was overshadowed by his anxiety. She was still in danger, even more
than when she had been inside.

Rather than take his city-issued sedan, Mace
had opted for his truck. He felt more in control in his truck.

He opened the door, lifted her up, set her in
the seat, and buckled her in.

She raised an eyebrow. “Think I’m
secured?”

“I’m responsible for transporting my
prisoners safely.” It only took seconds for him to enter the
vehicle on the driver’s side. He checked his rearview mirror,
noting Jackson’s nod as the other detective pulled up behind
them.

She released a heavy sigh. “Really?”

“What?” Mace pulled out of the parking lot
and entered the flow of traffic.

“How many?”

“How many what?”

“Prison guards,” she drawled while she leaned
forward to see around him.

“Jackson and me.”

“And?”

“Ryker.”

She simply raised an eyebrow.

“That’s all I know for sure. Ryker’s helping
me out and I don’t know if any of his men are in on it since we
left the store.”

“I thought Ryker owned a security
company.”

“He does.”

“This is not alarm-related.”

“Not that kind of security company. Ryker’s
an ex-Army Ranger. He does personal security, provides bodyguards,
rescues kidnap victim rescues, work of that nature.”

“Then why did he install my alarm?”

“Because I asked him to. He’s the best man
for the job.”

“I thought you were the best man for the
job.”

He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed
her knuckles. “Depends on the job, sweetheart.”

Dara swallowed. “Don’t you think you’re going
a little overboard? I mean, this lunatic is supposedly in love with
me. Why would he hurt me?”

He steered into Dara’s complex and parked
beside her Lexus. He turned to her and lifted her chin with his
finger.

“Because, beautiful, you said it – he’s a
lunatic. We can’t take any chances.” He planted a heated kiss to
her lips. “Let’s get you inside.”

Dara unbuckled and slid across the seat. Mace
helped her out of the truck then took her hand and led her inside,
checking their surroundings as they went. Jackson was parked across
on the other side of the lot.

He couldn’t see Ryker, but he hadn’t expected
to. Ryker could blend into his surroundings so well he could be
standing right in front of them and not be visible. He breathed a
sigh of relief as he unlocked the door and nudged her inside. The
beeping of the alarm gave him the
all clear
so he locked the
door behind them and turned off the alarm.

“Are you hungry?” Dara asked him, putting her
bag on the floor by the sofa.

“Starved. How about you?”

“Mostly thirsty. And worn out. Do you like
macaroni and cheese? That’s what I’m in the mood for.”

Mace grinned. “My favorite.”

He followed her into the kitchen and watched
as she got out a pan and filled it with water. He couldn’t help
himself. He just had to touch her. Coming up behind her, he put his
arms around her waist and hugged her close. He put his lips next to
her ear. “I’m gonna take a shower. Wanna join me?”

He nibbled his way down her neck and she
shivered. “If I do that, you won’t get clean and we’ll both go
hungry.”

She looked like she was ready to crash
anyway. He released her, backed up, and swatted her rear. Dara
jumped and squealed. He knew it was a good time to cut and run so
he ran out of the kitchen. Just in time, too, considering the
popping noise the towel made when she snapped it at him.

He laughed all the way to the bathroom,
shucking his shirt as he went. He finished undressing in Dara’s
room and padded naked into the bathroom. A pink ruffled shower
curtain, white fluffy towels, and pictured on the walls of shoes
and handbags with shiny things greeted him. Girlie décor and girlie
shampoo. Oh, hell. What had he come to?

Mace turned on the water and stepped inside.
Warm water in a messaging action rained down on him. Nice. He could
get used to all this frilly stuff with perks like a massaging
showerhead. And Dara.

Dara turned the knob to medium and then
giggled as she opened the refrigerator to retrieve two bottles of
water. Detective Turner and macaroni and cheese – what a
combination. And, if she could catch him before he was dry, she
might just insist they eat macaroni and cheese naked.

She straightened and closed the refrigerator
door, ready to check the water on the stove when she caught
movement in her peripheral vision. She moved her gaze to the
doorway between the kitchen and laundry room, near the back
door.

“Mace?”

Although she didn’t expect him to answer,
considering the bathroom was on the other side of the unit, she
still found herself convinced he had made the shadow. The ticking
of the kitchen clock made the silence even more spooky. Even the
absent sound of running water made her believe perhaps Mace had
left the shower. Yet, he wasn’t there.

Suddenly, a familiar figure stepped into view
with the barrel of a handgun pointed directly at her. “Not
Detective Turner, Dara.”

Dara froze, every hair on the back of her
neck standing at attention. “Tom?”

“Yes, it’s me.”

“What on Earth are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to set the record straight.”

She stepped back from the stove, bothered by
how eerily calm the man appeared. “How’d you get inside?”

“Come.” He walked toward her, grasped her
elbow and moved her further into the laundry area. She gasped when
she found Ryker slumped in the floor. “I took him by surprise.”

Her eyes widened as she fought the fear
welling inside. “Did you kill him?”

“Not yet. He won’t wake up if he knows what’s
best.” Tom pulled her back into the kitchen and pointed at a chair.
“Sit.”

She gave a cursory glance toward the living
room and then lowered herself to the chair. Her stomach churned as
she fought to find a logical explanation why Tom Swanson stood in
her kitchen with a gun aimed at her. She needed to find a way to
alert Mace. But how? She had a sick feeling he would walk in on the
situation, totally oblivious. And unarmed.

She cleared her throat in an effort to gain
courage. “What record do you need to set straight, Tom?”

He gave an evil snicker. “I killed The Rogue
Reviewer.”

Mace stepped from the shower and rubbed a
towel over his head, suddenly concerned about the lack of noise in
the atmosphere. The townhouse was a relatively small unit and since
he’d used the downstairs shower, sounds from the kitchen should’ve
carried easily through the walls.

He quickly dried his body and then tossed the
towel to the counter while his heart raced and his gut knotted.
Although he was relatively confident no one would get past Ryker or
Jackson, he still couldn’t shake the feeling something wasn’t
right.

He quietly left the bathroom and entered the
spare bedroom, jumped into his jeans and grabbed his weapon. He
didn’t take time to grab a shirt, instead flipped off the safety of
his gun as he slipped quietly down the hall. A male voice slowed
his progress.

He flattened his body against the wall and
inched closer, hoping he heard the television but knowing better.
His knees threatened to buckle when he moved his line of vision to
the kitchen where Tom Swanson held a gun pointed straight at
Dara.

Although he sensed her incredible fear, she
seemed to be engaging him in conversation – a necessary action if
he had any chance of taking the editor out.

“Tom, why did you kill Evelyn?”

“You should know that answer, Dara. I
explained my action to you in my email messages.”

“You are
Romantically Devoted
?”

The madman nodded. “I am your biggest fan,
you know.”

Sonuvabitch
. Despite his desire to end
this lunacy once and for all, he knew that if he rushed in, Tom
would kill Dara.

“Evelyn demeaned every author she reviewed,”
Tom continued. “Granted, she helped us sell a lot of papers, but
she crossed the line when she bad-mouthed your work.”

Tom waved the gun around as he spoke but kept
it trained on Dara’s body. Mace still couldn’t take the opportunity
to ambush him yet. Hopefully, the other man would lower his guard
or move closer with his back to the living area.
Come on,
Swanson. Move
.

Dara stood and moved towards the living room,
a motion that enraged her captor.

“Stop! Where are you going?”

That’s it, baby. Turn him that way.

“My water is boiling. You don’t want the
smoke to set off the smoke detector and have the fire department
burst into the house, do you?”

Dara turned her back to him and marched to
the stove as if there wasn’t a gun pointed at her.

“No. Turn it off.”

She turned to off the burner then turned to
face him, forcing him to move directly in front of her to keep the
weapon trained to its target.

She folded her arms over her chest. “I don’t
understand how you claim to be my fan, Tom. I hardly know you.”

“Not true,” he insisted. “We spent a lot of
time together. Banquets, charity events, fundraisers,
remember?”

“Okay, but why kill Evelyn in my condo?”

“Don’t you see? It was the only way. I shut
her up for good. That was the gift I gave you because I love you.
We belong together, Dara. I had to show you how deep my love is. I
killed for you.”

“I didn’t want her dead! Are you crazy?
That’s not how you show someone you love them.”

Not good, baby. Don’t piss him off.
Mace leveled his gun for a head shot. He didn’t want to do it,
especially right in front of Dara, but if the sonuvabitch moved,
he’d do it in a heartbeat.

“I was so clever. You should be proud of me.
I told her you bought advertising space to print a whole page ad
and that you showed me the article you wrote demeaning her work in
return for what she did to you. She always wanted to write fiction,
you know. Had thousands of rejections. She was angry at you. I told
her it was on a thumb drive in your apartment and that I knew where
you kept it. It was her idea to come get it.”