Authors: Angi Morgan
“I did,” he said quickly. He covered a crime scene the same way, broke it down on a grid. “I want to hear everything even if you don’t think it’s important. You never know what might spark a memory. Something you didn’t think of before when you talked to the police.” His hopes she’d be more comfortable talking to him had diminished the second he saw her. He wanted to ask her how she was doing, but decided not to, even though he found he still really wanted to know, needed to know. He’d left things broken between them, and thoughts of the sadness in her eyes every time she’d looked at him still haunted him. Outside of this case, he had no right to know anything about her. Why was he already reminding himself of the fact?
“As soon as I pulled up to her house, I heard a noise. Like a muffled cry or something. I couldn’t make it out for sure. She’d asked me to come around back in case she was with contractors for the pool, so I ran to make sure she was okay. I thought maybe she tripped or was hurt. But there was no one out there. She screamed again and I ran to the front door. Someone bolted from around the side of the house about the same time. He killed her, didn’t he?”
He locked gazes with her and wished like anything he could protect her from the truth. He felt pained that she’d had to witness this and his heart went out to her. “Yes. You get a good look at him?”
“No.” She hugged her arms to her body. “I didn’t see anything. By then I heard an awful sound coming from inside. Sounded like an animal dying.” She shivered.
He pulled out a pad and scribbled notes. Not that he needed a piece of paper to remember the details of their conversation. His memory was sharper than a switchblade. He needed something to look at besides her fearful eyes. Old instinct kicked in and he wanted to maim the person who’d made her feel that way, offer comfort she would certainly reject. “What happened next?”
“You want to sit down?” She moved to the couch and sat on the edge. She clasped her hands together and rocked back and forth. “It was bad, Luke.”
The sound of his name rolling off her tongue was a bitter reminder of the comfort and connection he hadn’t felt in a long time. He took a seat next to her but not too close.
Tears spilled down her cheeks. “I don’t want to think about it again, let alone say the words out loud.”
“I know how hard this is.” Every muscle in his body tightened from wanting to reach out and comfort her. He didn’t want to press further, but the information he gained could mean saving her life. “It’s important you tell me everything. Do you want a cup of tea or something?” He made a move to stand.
“No. I’m fine.” The uncertainty in her words made him freeze.
“Anything else you can give me might save another woman from going through this.”
“We both know he’s going to come after me next.” Her voice shook with terror.
“I’m not certain it’s him yet. Besides, I’ll catch him first.”
The suggestion of depending on him for anything after the way he’d hurt her set her eyes to infernos. “I didn’t ask you to come.”
“This is my territory. My guy. I know him better than anyone else.”
“I didn’t even know you were FBI.” The exasperation in her voice made him clench his fists involuntarily.
“I didn’t think it was appropriate to send you Christmas cards after your lawyer sent me papers.” It was a low blow and he regretted saying the words as soon as they passed his lips. After all, he’d been the one to leave and force the divorce issue.
She looked straight through him. “I lost track of you after...”
This wasn’t the time to talk about their past. It complicated the situation. He was professional enough to look beyond shared history and concentrate on doing his job. He focused his gaze on the opened laptop on the coffee table. There was a picture of Julie at the crime scene beneath the banner Breaking News. Damn. Another reminder that she’d been placed right there for the killer or any other lunatic to see.
The last time the local newspaper printed a story with the headline The Metroplex Murderer Strikes Again, Rob went off. He’d left a message on Luke’s cell complaining about how common that made him seem. Luke still hadn’t figured out how the man got his number. The man calling himself Ravishing Rob—someone who captivated and then decapitated—had done his research. Efforts to trace the call were futile. He’d used a burn phone. Rob was thorough. He also knew how to play the media.
Reporters had their uses. In this case, they might’ve issued Julie a death warrant. “You said earlier you didn’t get a good look at him. Any idea as to general information like height? Build? Race?”
She shook her head. “I was so horrified. The whole thing shocked me. One minute I was planning to meet a client, like usual, and then I thought the worst-case scenario was that I’d walked into a robbery in progress. The next thing I know, I’m staring at a person whose throat had been slit. I’ll never forget her eyes, pleading.” She shivered again and tears streamed down her cheeks.
Luke had to grip the pencil tighter to stop himself from wiping them away. He didn’t like seeing her cry. He’d seen those tears enough for a lifetime. If it didn’t mean saving her life, he’d stop questioning. “When did you find the note?”
“This evening. I’d just gotten home from spending the day at the police station answering questions.”
“What time?” he pressed. She might not have gotten a good look at Rob. Rob didn’t know that. The reason he’d given himself the nickname Ravishing Rob churned in Luke’s thoughts as he sat next to her. Rob had said he charmed his way into his victims’ homes or cars before taking them hostage, torturing them and then beheading them with surgical precision. The bastard would never get the chance with Julie, no matter how much swagger he thought he had.
“I’m not sure. All I wanted to do when I first got home was take a shower and get out of those clothes I’d been wearing. I ate dinner alone, a bowl of soup. I decided to slip out and check the mail...and that’s when I saw it.”
He already knew she’d showered. The smell of her pineapple-and-coconut shampoo filled his senses when he breathed. That she’d eaten alone soothed a part of him it shouldn’t. He scooted back and scribbled approximate times on his notepad. “Did you see any cars?”
She shrugged noncommittally, leaning into him for support. The vulnerability in her amber eyes ripped right through him. Damned if the past didn’t come flooding back all at once, reminding him of old times they’d shared and the feelings he missed.
He had to remind himself their history wasn’t the reason she was leaning on him now. She was scared.
“I’m not sure. You know how this street is. There’s always someone parked out there. I didn’t pay attention.” She tapped her hand on her knee.
“I need you to think.”
“I said I didn’t know,” she barked in the way she did when her nerves got the best of her.
Everything about her body language said she’d just frozen up on him. Fear could paralyze victims. Once the shock wore off, she’d forget. As it was, he had very little to go on. Anything she could give him might paint a more detailed picture, save her life. The profiler had said Rob probably kept something from each of his victims and liked to hunt. A saw was his favorite weapon, but he used guns when necessary to kill them before cutting their throats. He was also a perfectionist. Rob was most likely educated, a collector, and he had weapons. “Dammit, Julie. This is important.”
“Don’t you have anything from the scene you can use to figure out who it is? Hair sample? DNA?”
“Doubt it. The house is being combed, but I’m not expecting the crew to find anything. This guy’s careful, meticulous. Even though you interrupted him, he had the presence of mind to ensure he didn’t leave a witness.” He didn’t tell her the guy normally cut off the heads of his “projects,” as he called them. Or about the half-open carton of orange juice they’d found sitting on the counter. Since Rob wasn’t able to bleach his victim this time, maybe he’d left behind a print. Doubtful, but Luke hadn’t given up hope completely. “A rookie was first on the scene. That doesn’t help. I just came from there. If there was evidence, which I doubt, it’s most likely gone.” He stabbed his fingers through his hair. “Can you think of anything else? Anything different. Doesn’t have to be about what you saw. Could be anything about the visit.”
Julie’s gaze widened. “I was supposed to meet with her on Thursday. She changed our appointment last minute.”
“Did you mention that to the police?”
“No. I didn’t think about it until just now.”
Bingo. New information. “Did she say why she moved the appointment?”
“No. She sent me a text asking if I could come a day early. Said something came up last minute and she needed to leave town right away.”
“How long did you have the original appointment on your calendar?” This guy watched his “projects” carefully. Hacked into their computers. Studied their movements. He knew them as intimately as he could without ever having met them face-to-face. At least in this case, he wasn’t monitoring her phone.
“Weeks.”
Must’ve been the change in schedule. Damn, if Julie had just kept the original appointment she’d be in the clear. This guy didn’t like an audience. He was most likely planning a way to finish his interrupted work...on Julie. Then again, any crazy with internet access could be targeting her right now. Luke glanced around. “How safe’s the neighborhood?”
“I had an alarm installed after you left...”
He’d noticed the keypad earlier. “I think it’s best if you stay with a friend for a while.”
“I’ve already thought about that. I have someone coming over later to stay the night.”
“Who?” He told himself the only reason he’d asked was to make sure it was someone who would have her back if the killer decided to strike. Not that Luke planned on being far away.
“A friend.”
He said a quick prayer it was a female. The thought of another man sleeping in his bed shot a lightning bolt of anger down his spine. “Does this
friend
have a name?”
“Alice.”
Relief he had no right to own washed over him. Alice hated him. But she was a helluva lot better than Herb, the dentist. “What time is she coming over?”
“She works until...” Julie checked her watch. Her hand shook. “Actually, she should be getting off soon. I’ll give her a call.”
Before he could debate his actions, he covered her hand with his. A current he refused to acknowledge pulsed up his arm. He didn’t want to offer to stay in a place that brought back so many painful memories. He couldn’t count how many times they’d made love on this very couch before he shipped off. Or how cold the leather was against his skin when he slept there every night after his return. “I doubt anything will happen tonight. He’ll want time to regroup. I’ll be right out front as precaution.”
“All night?”
“Yes. I have an officer stationed out back, too.” Luke was almost certain she wanted to poke his eyes out for ever having to look at him again. She still looked damn sexy. Her robe opened just enough for him to see she wore his old AC/DC T-shirt to bed. And since every muscle in his body screamed to reach out and touch her, he figured he’d better put a brick wall between them for safety’s sake.
“With this cold front it’ll be twenty degrees after the sun goes down. I can’t let you do that. You’ll freeze to death.”
“I’ll keep the heat on in my truck.”
“It just seems silly for you to be out there when you could set up right here.”
She must be awfully scared to make that offer. “I’m pretty certain I’m the last person you want to see. Let alone have sleeping under the same roof.”
She folded her arms. He could’ve sworn he saw a flash of regret or sadness darken her features. “True.”
He made a move to stand. Her hand on his arm stopped him. An electric volt shot through him, warming places it shouldn’t.
“I thought if I ever saw you again, it would be for different reasons.” Her lip quivered, but she compressed her mouth. Damn, it was still sexy when she was being stubborn.
“Yeah. Me, too. For the record, I don’t like this any more than you do.” Scratch that. He liked this situation boatloads less than anyone possibly could, even her. He’d be lying if he didn’t admit to fantasizing about meeting up with her again once he got his head screwed on straight. This scenario had never once entered his imagination.
“Luke.”
“Yeah.”
“You look...better. I hope you don’t mind me saying so.”
He smiled and meant it. For some reason those words mattered to him.
“And you seem different now,” she said. A melancholy note laced her tone.
The anger was gone from her voice completely now, but the sadness was far worse. Anger he could handle, fight head-to-head. He understood anger. Her sounding broken was a sucker punch to his solar plexus.
Her world had been turned upside down. She was reaching for comfort. He was still the same man she’d wanted to gut a few minutes ago. “Everyone changes a little, right?”
“Nope. Not everyone.”
Was she referring to herself or Herb?
Reminders that he had no right to care didn’t hold weight. He stood and walked to the door. “I’ll check in with the officer stationed out back before I take my post.”
Copyright © 2015 by Barb Han
ISBN-13: 9781460344941
The Sheriff Copyright © 2015 by Angela Platt
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.