A Killer's Agenda

eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work. This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. Samhain Publishing, Ltd. 512 Forest Lake Drive Warner Robins, Georgia 31093 A Killer’s Agenda Copyright © 2007 by Anita Whiting Cover by Anne Cain ISBN: 1-59998-463-6 www.samhainpublishing.com All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: May 2007

A Killer's Agenda Anita Whiting

Dedication This book is dedicated to my family. It would never have been written without their support.

A Killer's Agenda

Chapter One “I’m telling you, Brad, there are just too many similarities.” Kevin Lloyd slammed his fists on the desk that separated him from his cousin. “How many murders is it going to take to convince you?” “Convince me of what?” “You know damn well what!” “I know it’s hard for you to be objective right now, Kevin. Give yourself a little more time to deal with your mother’s death then we’ll talk.” His cousin rose so abruptly that the chair he was sitting in rocked wildly. He ran a restless hand through his blonde hair, his jaw tense. “Okay, at least let me show you what I’ve come up with and then tell me I’m crazy.” “I never said that.” “You implied it.” Brad shook his head, standing as well and putting a hand on his shoulder. “Then I didn’t mean to.” His cousin gave him another impatient look and he sighed, retaking his seat. “Okay, let me hear what you have and we’ll go from there. Fair enough?”

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Without another word, Kevin slapped a leather briefcase on the table and began emptying it. “After Mom was murdered, I spent hours, days and then months trying to come to terms with how she died. I can’t.” “It’s hard to make sense out of a drive by shooting. Hard to blame someone when there isn’t even a motive.” Kevin pounded his fist on the desk, blue eyes flashing. “That’s bull! You really believe someone drove into that small town, picked her street and waited until she turned the corner and just randomly shot her? Christ, Brad!” No, he didn’t believe that. His aunt had been his surrogate mother for years and her death six months ago had ripped him apart. Only he had learned long ago that a Norton man didn’t show emotion, always kept his jaw firm and his life in perfect control. It was expected. “Okay, let’s say I buy that. Why Aunt Ellie? What motive would someone have to kill her?” Brad tensed as Kevin reached in the briefcase he had at his side and began spreading newspaper articles across the desk. Knowing Kevin suspected what he had for a long while legitimized his fears. And increased his anger. “I’ve spent hours looking for some clue, some reason to justify this strong feeling I’ve had since Mom’s death that it wasn’t what it looked like.” He pushed the stack of newspapers toward Brad. “I think I’ve found it. First murder was about two years ago in a small town in Ohio near Columbus. Child got off the bus and was hit by a stray bullet and killed. Never found a suspect and there were no witnesses.” He moved another paper in front of Brad. “Second was a law student walking to his dorm in Huntington, -6-

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West Virginia. Witnesses saw a green car barrel down the road and fire at point blank range. No description of the driver and the license plates were bogus.” Brad nodded. “Last three were in Virginia and then in Charlotte, North Carolina. A woman and two teenagers. Only common theme was the car and the precision of the murders.” Kevin’s head swiveled up as he shot him a look of surprise and then his face darkened. “You saw the pattern like I did and you didn’t say anything! Damn you, Brad! Mom might have been alive if we had warned her. If you had warned her.” Brad’s eyes flashed, showing the first sign of the emotions he had kept in check for a long time. “Stop right there, Kevin. I didn’t say anything because I wasn’t sure there was anything to say. Random shootings following a southward path. A very wide southward path. One shooter, maybe two, maybe four or five? Sure I saw the pattern, read the papers, saw the brief mention on CNN. Even talked to her about the oddity in the similarities and told her to be careful. She laughed at me. Said there were always going to be sick people in this world and she had no intention of living her life in fear. Told me if she thought that way, being married to a cop would drive her over the edge.” “Sounds like something she would say.” Kevin’s voice was husky with emotion. “Besides, there was nothing to warn her about. Even the media wasn’t overly impressed. Only with the last murder of that attorney’s wife have there been some rumblings of the rash of drive by shootings stretching across state lines. Still no one has linked them together. -7-

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“Someone’s got to nail this lunatic before he kills again.” Brad hesitated and then leaned back in his chair, his jaw tightening. “Not just a lunatic, a serial killer.” His cousin’s face paled. “What are you talking about?” Brad reached over and switched on his computer, motioning for Kevin to move to his side of the desk. “Six people killed, including your mother. Took me until just a few days ago to come up with a link. Find a common one.” He flicked through several screens. “I lined each victim up and obtained as much information as I could. It took some digging but I found what I was looking for. Every one of these victims had a father or mother or spouse in law enforcement or related fields. It’s the only thing that ties them together. Two were policeman. One was a detective. And the last woman was the wife of a very prominent attorney in Charlotte.” Kevin was silent for a short while. Brad’s instincts were normally right on. Norton Securities was now one of the top alarm companies in South Carolina due in large part to those sharp senses. If his cousin believed what he was saying, then he knew he had researched the facts thoroughly. “Then why haven’t you gone to the authorities?” “I did as a matter of fact. They listened and basically told me they’d follow up but not to hold my breath. The pattern hadn’t escaped them either but there wasn’t enough to go on. No name, no face, no license number or description, nothing. Not even enough to convince the powers that be that this was the same person.” “What about the link you found?”

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Brad shook his head. “Not good enough. Just supposition at this point. Even though several witnesses saw a green car speed from the site of three of the murders, none of them were able to give a detailed enough description.” He raised a brow. “Lots of green cars out there, cousin.” “Hell, Brad! Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner? Do you have any idea how many sleepless nights I’ve had thinking I was going nuts? Trying to justify the feeling that Mom’s death wasn’t simply a random shooting and not that I was just losing it.” “What good would it have done? You were grieving and so was your father. So was I. I figured we all needed a little time.” Kevin sighed. “Yeah, I know. It’s been damn tough. But I’m past the grief part now and into the seriously pissed off part. Who’s to say this guy won’t be back? I don’t plan on being another sitting duck if what you suspect is true.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a business card. “This is the name of a local detective agency. It’s owned by someone named Alex Leahy. Came highly recommended. If the police won’t follow up, then we need someone who will.” “So, you don’t trust your own cousin to investigate?” Brad said lightly, the glint in his eyes saying otherwise. “I hate to say it, but you look just like your old man right now,” Kevin said, lips twitching. “Chiseled jaw, cold look, holier than thou attitude.” Brad’s lips curved, yet his words had an edge. “Watch it, buddy. I can still beat you up.” “Probably, but I’m older than I used to be. I’ve learned to fight dirty.”

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“I’ve learned a few tricks myself,” Brad shot back, flexing his arm. “Never could keep up with you in that category,” Kevin muttered. “That’s why you were quarterback and I was second string in high school.” “Joking aside,” Brad said, catching Kevin’s eye, “I want whoever this is as much as you do. Count on it.” “I know you do. But you’re family and family isn’t objective.” He put up a hand when Brad began to speak. “I’ve thought this through. Hell, I haven’t been able to do anything else for the past month. You’ll need help.” “Then I’ll get one of my own staff to help.” “Same thing. They’ll be working under your direction.” “Listen, Kevin, I can handle this.” “You can’t, Brad. Not because you don’t want this creep as much as I do but because you loved her as much as I did,” Kevin said simply. There was silence for a brief moment the two of them locking gazes. “All right,” Brad agreed gruffly, “I’ll call this,” he glanced down at the card he still held, “Alex Leahy.” “Good. The sooner the better.” Kevin moved toward the door then turned, his eyes darkening. “Why family members?” Brad shot him a look, not bothering to pretend he didn’t understand the question. “Because it hurts more. God knows what fuels this bastard’s mind, but there isn’t one cop who doesn’t know there’s a chance he could lose his life in the line of duty. Even people on the periphery get threatening letters and phone calls. Your father will tell you -10-

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that. What makes them continue to do what they do is that normally the threats don’t extend to those they love.” “You’re trained in this kind of crap. What drives this creep?” “That’s the million dollar question. There could be a hundred different reasons. I’ve already called Miguel Santos. That’s his specialty. Once I gather a few more facts, maybe we can narrow things down a bit.” He stood, rubbing the tension out of his neck. “How’s your Dad holding up?” Kevin shrugged. “As well as can be expected. Goes to work, comes home, eats. He’s still in pain and it’s hard to see him that way.” “You staying home?” “For now. The commute isn’t all that far and he needs me.” “Tell him I’ll be out to visit soon.” “I will. Thanks, Brad. Even Carolyn was beginning to think I was losing it. I just couldn’t let this go. Still can’t.” “Did you tell her what you suspect?” “Sure, but she’s not easy to convince. She’s too analytical. Comes from that M.D. behind her name.” “Maybe we need analytical right now.” Kevin rolled his eyes. “God, don’t tell her that! I’m getting a complex already from all the brainy people I’m marrying into.” “You should,” Brad teased. “Go to hell,” Kevin shot back. The amusement slipped away, however as he opened the door. “Keep me informed.” “You know it.” Brad closed the door thoughtfully. He walked slowly back to his desk and grabbed his coat, shrugging into it. Moments later he was

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striding into the elegant lobby that comprised the bottom floor of Norton Securities. He smiled at the petite blonde receptionist. “Jackie, I’ll be out of the office for a while. Pete will know how to reach me if something comes up while I’m gone.” “Okay, Mr. Norton.” He pulled out of the parking lot, taking a moment to appreciate the beauty of the glass and metal building with his name on it. The sun highlighted the bronze metal and shone on the windows, reflecting the deep green of the lawn. Unfortunately, it was also his father’s name and he resented that fact. Resented the reality that a whole lot of people assumed the Norton money had financed his meteoric rise to success in his field. It hadn’t. That had come through sheer determination and hard work. He turned the car in the direction of his father’s home. That was how he had always thought of it, his father’s home. Warmth and love weren’t words that came to mind when he visited the stately old brick mansion by the sea. There were other words, bitter ones, that described his feelings about the place he had grown up. He glanced at the passing scenery absently. He only wished his memories of his mother weren’t so fuzzy. If she hadn’t died shortly after his birth, things might have been different. He might have been different. He mentally shrugged. Old history. History he had no intentions of dwelling on. It wouldn’t change anything even if he did. He reached in his pocket and flipped open his cell phone. “Pete, its Brad. Think you can keep an eye on things for a week or so?” He could hear the surprise in his manager’s voice when he answered. -12-

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“Sure. You actually taking a vacation?” “In a manner of speaking. Only thing pressing is that new development. I’ve got a hunch we’re going to win that contract. If you have any issues, I’ll leave the cell phone on.” “What’s this all about, Brad?” He hesitated. He trusted his right hand man, Pete Struthers, implicitly, but this was something he didn’t want to make public until he had more facts. If he and Kevin were off base, they would look like fools and if they were right, he didn’t want information, however innocent, to leak out. “Got some family business to deal with. I’m just not sure how long it will take.” “Take as long as you need. There isn’t much I can’t deal with myself.” “I know that. Thanks, Pete.” He disconnected the call, fighting the urge to turn right toward his condo instead of left when he reached the stop sign. His conscience told him he needed to let his father know what he suspected, if for no other reason than Ellie had been his sister. He wouldn’t welcome the information. Probably wouldn’t believe him either. Brad forced himself to relax the tight grip he had on the steering wheel, leaning back in an effort to enjoy traveling through the heart of the charming old city. Charleston was at its best this time of year. The sun was shining brightly and the oppressive heat of the summer had slid into the more comfortable temperature of fall. The trees were brilliant with vivid colors, their beauty only accentuating the charm of the century homes that lined the downtown streets. It was a city steeped in history. A city that brought throngs of -13-

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tourists to enjoy the scenery and listen, enthralled, to the tour guides describe its colored past. Ghosts and pirates and the sea made for interesting year-round entertainment. There was a time when

he

had

thought

about

leaving.

About

starting

new

somewhere else. Somewhere where the Norton name wasn’t a household word. He was glad he had resisted the impulse. As he neared the south side of town, his thoughts switched to his only parent. He glanced at his watch. A little after five. His father would be arriving home in exactly ten minutes. The routine never varied. Up at seven, allowing enough time to read the morning paper and have breakfast, leave the house at 7:35 exactly. Accept his last call at 4:55 and arrive home at 5:25. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. In the beginning he had tried so hard, so very hard, to be what he thought his father wanted him to be. He had detested the private school his father insisted he attend and the uniform he had been forced to wear. Yet he had endured the rigidity of the routine without complaint because he had wanted his father’s approval. Craved it. As he grew, he began to realize it made no difference. No matter what he did or how well he did it, it was never enough. Yet he continued to try. Until the day he found his mother’s photograph. As he drove down the familiar road, the memories came flooding back just as sharp as they had ever been. As was the pain… It was the summer of his twelfth year. The day his whole life changed. He awoke on his birthday and jumped out of bed, hoping, as he did every year, that this time his father would be waiting for him downstairs. Want to spend the day with him. Just him. Even at twelve, he hadn’t given up those childhood fantasies. He dressed -14-

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quickly and ran downstairs, stopping in the doorway. The empty table that greeted him dashed those hopes immediately. The gifts were waiting by his place at the table as usual. He walked toward them, sitting for a moment before he slowly pulled the wrapping off the gaily covered packages. The rich smell of leather greeted him. He slid his hand wonderingly into the baseball mitt. It fit just like it was supposed to. As if it was made for his hand. He tore the wrapping off the other package. The bat was twotoned, its gleaming finish shining. Wait until he showed his friends! Of course, they wouldn’t be surprised. They knew how much he had wanted that bat and mitt. That’s all he had talked about for… And just like that, he knew. Knew there was no way his father had bought these things. He had never been to one of his games, never seen the longing in his eyes when he had watched other friends break in a new glove. Never knew he was using Maggie’s brother’s old mitt. He had been fooled before but not this time. These gifts mattered too much. He heard his father preparing to leave, heard his bedroom door close with a smart click and he jerked at the sound. Maggie peeked around the corner and then came into the dining room singing happy birthday with a huge stack of pancakes in her hands, a candle burning in the middle. She stopped, a hurt look on her face, when he stood abruptly and ran from the room, dashing angry tears away. He clenched his fists tightly as he knocked into furniture in his haste to leave. He didn’t care. He hated this big, old house and it’s carefully cared for antiques. Hated his school. But, more than anything, he hated his father. His friends had fathers who taught them how to throw a ball, hold a bat. Fathers who stood on the

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sidelines cheering them on proudly. His father didn’t even know he was alive. Feeling miserable and unloved, he sought the only place he knew that no one would look for him. The very top of the huge house. The one place he had never dared to enter before. He needed to be alone. Totally and completely alone. Far away from servants who tossed him looks of thinly disguised pity or from Maggie whom he knew would attempt to comfort him as she had so often before. He sped up the stairs, higher and higher, until he reached the long hallway that led to the lone door at the end. He began to drag his feet as he drew closer, not at all sure he would have the courage to open it. Dashing the last of the tears from his face, he slowly turned the knob and breathed a sigh of relief. Bright sunshine streamed in through the tall windows and bathed the thick planks on the floor with a golden light. Dust swirled in the beams but even that beckoned to him as he edged inside and closed the door behind him. Heat the air conditioning couldn’t reach enveloped him but he quickly forgot that as his eyes widened at the sheer size of the room and its shrouded contents. He took tentative steps forward, the pull to explore strong. His gaze flitted around the enormous space. Old furniture, lamps and clothes were haphazardly stacked against the walls. He caught a glimpse of something familiar and walked toward it. He ran a hand along the white rail. His old crib, the rabbit mobile still attached. Immediately a hazy picture of filmy white curtains and stuffed animals pushed their way into his thoughts. The memories became stronger. Laughter and giggles. Warm hugs. Love.

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He grew braver, slowly examining the wealth of family history in front of him, his twelve-year-old curiosity overcoming his fear. There was the smell of age and something less definite. A fragrance that compelled him to move further into the room. It grew stronger, relaxing him, while at the same time continuing to pull vague memories from his earliest recollections. Burying chubby hands into long hair, inhaling that same fragrance. The feeling of being cherished. Without realizing it, he followed the scent to an old gray chest. He stood in front of it, heart pounding and lifted the lid. It opened with a groan and he stared at the photograph that lay on top. Gently and very carefully he lifted it to the light. The woman had an air of delicacy about her, fineness. He sank to the floor and hungrily stared. This was his mother. He had her dark eyes and raven black hair. Maggie had once showed him a very small picture of her, warning him not to say a word to his father. When he asked why, she had merely shaken her head. He sat there for a long while, reveling in the few sharp but sweet memories he had of being swept up in her arms and held close, wishing with everything in him that he could feel those things again. Feel that love that only Maggie came close to giving him. He jumped, still clutching the photograph close to him, when the door slammed open. He spun around, heart pounding, and found himself face to face with his father. “What are you doing in here?” he demanded, his voice and expression furious. He didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer. He scrambled to his feet, backing away, his mother’s picture still clutched against his chest. He watched his father’s gaze find it, saw his expression grow even darker. -17-

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What happened next… A car horn blared, bringing Brad back to the present. It took a moment for him to push the pain away. Lucky for the other drivers, he knew this town, he thought grimly. No matter how many times he pushed those memories away, they were always there waiting to intrude at odd moments, moments when he was most vulnerable. The scenery had changed. The charming old houses had been replaced by elegant estates with ornate fencing surrounding them and the glimpse of ocean behind. This was where the rich lived. The old, established families with old, established money. He’d take his condo any day. Taking a deep breath, he turned into one of the long, curving driveways. He slowed in front of the gatehouse, saluting the grayhaired man who sat inside. Ben Johnson had been keeper of the gate for as long as he could remember. Brad lowered the window. “Afternoon, Ben. How are you?” The older man’s smile was genuine. “I’m fine, Brad. It’s good to see you.” “My father home yet?” “Just pulled in.” He leaned further out, waiting until Brad looked up at him. “He misses you.” “That’ll be the day,” Brad said lightly. “How’s Sarah?” “She’s fine, just fine. If you’re staying for awhile, she’d love to see you.” He shook his head. “Wish I could but I’ll only be here a few minutes.”

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Ben pushed the button and the high, curved gates swung open. Brad waved as he drove through and they closed smoothly behind him. Brad

wound

his

way

along

the

paved

driveway.

The

landscaping was meticulous as usual under the guidance of the bevy of gardeners his father employed. There were fountains spraying crystal water into artfully set basins while a riot of fall blooms were reflected in the ever-moving liquid. The mansion was the same as well. Tall pillars graced the front of the white brick four-story structure while the eye was drawn to the backdrop of the incredibly blue water behind. Damned impressive, Brad thought, slamming the car door, to anyone but himself. In the years he had lived there, it might as well have had prison bars on the window. He felt no affection for the structure or, save one, for those who lived inside. He strode up the walk and, just as he reached the double doors, they were flung open and a slender, dark haired woman threw herself into his arms. “Brad! 'tis about time you visited us,” Maggie said with that distinct Irish brogue that was so much a part of her. Her arms were surprisingly firm as she squeezed him hard against her for a brief moment. “You live not five miles away and yet I’ve not seen hide nor hair of you for over three months.” He bent down to kiss her cheek and she wagged a finger at him. “Don’t you be tryin' that smooth stuff on me, Bradley Norton. I’ve known you too long. Raised you for too long.” He tugged at her apron affectionately. “I love when you get your Irish up, Maggie.” -19-

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She gave him a shove, her fierce expression softening into a reluctant smile. “Come in with you. I’ve got some fresh cookies sitting on the table and a pot of tea brewed.” He followed her inside, ignoring the opulent entryway and the smell of lemon and polished wood. He knew where she was going. To the one place they had always considered their own. Maggie’s domain. The big, airy kitchen tucked at the very back of the house where, growing up, he had spent countless hours doing homework or sharing milk and cookies after school with a friend. It was the one place in the immaculate house that he hadn’t had to worry about getting crumbs on the floor. Maggie had seen to that as well as supervising his homework at the round oak table in the center, not allowing him to shirk his studies. Before he had left this house for good and never looked back. He sat there now and in just a few moments, had a plate piled high with fragrant cookies and tea in front of him. Maggie slid into the chair across from him, her long hair pulled back into an untidy bun, her cheeks red, blue eyes sharp as ever. “So you think it’s time to visit your old cook, is that it?” she teased. He grabbed one of her hands and squeezed, knowing her well enough to sense what she was really asking. “It’s the only reason I have to come back to this place. That and these cookies,” he said lightly, enjoying the taste of melting chocolate as he chewed. “Only Aunt Ellie made cookies as good as yours. Almost.” He grinned as he took another. Maggie’s expression changed.

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“I’ve not had a chance to tell you how sorry I was about Ellie, love. All of us were. Such a wonderful woman she was.” “Aside from you, Maggie, she was my mother. I’ll always miss her.” “Himself misses her as well.” Brad snorted a derisive laugh. “Yeah, right.” Maggie put a hand on his arm pleadingly. “Don’t you think it’s time the two of you put aside those differences, Brad?” He shrugged. “I don’t think that’s possible, Maggie, even if I wanted to. The hurt runs too deep.” She took a sip of her tea, weighing her words. “Have you ever been in love, Brad? Really in love?” He raised a brow, surprised at the question. Because he could tell she was serious, he took his time answering. “Not in a want to get married kind of way, if that’s what you’re asking, Maggie. Why?” “Then you can’t know what it is like. To know that the other means everything to you, even with every day kind of things. That a touch, a look, a moment, can carry you through any difficulty you might face in the day ahead, knowing you’ll be going back to that person at the end.” “You speaking from experience?” She shot him a look he couldn’t quite read. “In a way, yes.” When he remained silent, she continued. “Your father loved your mother in just that way, Brad. She was everything to him.” She stood, pouring both of them more tea. “You don’t remember your grandfather, but I do. I was just a little girl when my mother started working for the senior Mr. Norton. He was a stiff, rigid man and he raised your father to be the same. Strict routines, strict -21-

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dress, no emotion. Your father was the oldest and the most impressionable. Your grandmother tried to soften his rules but she was never strong enough to stand up to him. Ellie was. She resisted every one of those rules, putting up fight after fight until he would give in simply to avoid the dissension. When she introduced your mother to Andrew, your grandfather wasn’t happy. Oh, she came from money and an old established family, but her attitude was much the same as Ellie’s. She loved life and she saw beneath that tough exterior your father wore to the man beneath.” Brad stood, carrying his cup to the sink and turned to lean against it. “Why are you telling me this now, Maggie?” “Because you need to know why your father is the way he is.” She raised a hand as his expression changed. “Just give me a moment and then you can respond.” He nodded, putting his tea down on the counter and crossing his arms. “You don’t remember the way this house was before you were born. It was a home back then. Music ringing from the stereo, which your father would turn down and your mother would immediately turn back up. She would grab him and make him dance with her right in the middle of the dining room. Parties all the time. Not the formal ones your grandfather approved of but spur of the moment ones with whatever they could find in the refrigerator. Your grandfather would be furious and your mother would completely ignore him.” Brad watched the play of emotions across her face, saw her expression soften. “In his own way, I think he developed a respect for her in the end, although you’d never guess it.” She leaned forward, -22-

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beseeching him to understand with her eyes. “It was a whole new world to your father and I’d never seen him so happy. ‘Tis a shame to say so, but after your grandparents were killed in that accident, your father was even happier. The only shadow was that your mother wanted a family so badly and yet year after year went by and nothing.” She smiled to herself. “I can still remember the expression on her face the day the doctor told her she was expecting you. If she could have walked on air, she would have.” “And how did my esteemed father feel about that?” Brad asked, trying not to let his bitterness show. She tossed him an impatient look. “He was as excited as she was but he was also worried. Olivia’s mother had died in childbirth and that thought was always in the back of his mind. When you were born, without apparent complications, they were both thrilled. I can still see him spinning you around that nursery, laughing at your childish giggles. It was only later that he changed.” Brad nodded tersely. “I know the story, Maggie. My mother developed cancer and died and he resented me from then on.” The hurt stabbed through him once again and he shrugged it off. “It’s not that simple, love. Your mother died from ovarian cancer. The doctor made the mistake of telling your father that it was entirely possible the cancer had been there but had spread more rapidly because of the pregnancy. It was then he began to change. We both watched the damn disease take your mother. Oh, she fought, hard and long, but it was no use. For each pound she lost and each day she got weaker, your father grew angrier. Began to look for someone to blame. Someone to vent all his desolation

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on. That, laddie, was you. He didn’t mean to but it happened just the same.” Brad slammed a fist on the counter, startling her. “If you think I can find it in my heart to feel sorry for him, Maggie, you're mistaken. I was an innocent. I didn’t deserve what his lack of love did to my childhood.” She nodded. “No, you didn’t. It was as if a piece of my heart were lopped off when your aunt walked out with you that day. Yet I knew it was for the best.” “Then why the history lesson now?” She sighed. “Because I see your father becoming his father and I can’t stop it. I was hoping maybe you could.” “Why should I?” Maggie’s eyes flashed. “Because he’s still your only parent. Because I was hoping you had a small part of your mother inside of you. The part that would forgive and forget. Was I wrong?” No other person could make him feel as small as Maggie when she put her mind to it, he thought, ashamed. “No, you’re not,” he said quietly. “But it works both ways, Maggie.” She sighed. “Aye, I know. Just make the effort. For my sake and for your mother’s. And Ellie’s.” He stood, looking down at her, the emotions her words had opened making him feel vulnerable, uncomfortable. “I can’t guarantee anything but I’ll try.” He stood for a moment, arms crossed. “Why didn’t you tell me this long ago?” It was Maggie’s turn to lower her eyes with guilt. “At first, it was because I didn’t think you would understand and later, I saw you so seldom and the time just never seemed -24-

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right. It was only after Ellie’s death that I realized life was just too short to be wasting. To short to hold grudges.” “That’s why I’m here today.” Maggie glanced up. “Because of Ellie’s death?” “Kevin stopped by the office today. He suspects the cause of his mother’s death isn’t as simple as the police made it out to be. That her death wasn’t accidental.” “What!” Maggie and Brad both turned, startled, to look at the man who stood in the kitchen doorway. “Andrew. I didn’t hear you come home,” Maggie said, deftly rising to clear the remaining dishes from the table. Brad’s jaw tightened. “Afternoon, Father.” The older man strode into the room, ignoring his greeting. “What nonsense is Kevin spouting now?” “Nice to see you too,” Brad muttered under his breath. His father had changed little. Still ramrod straight in posture, his body lean with not an ounce of extra fat, the chiseled jaw Kevin had mentioned. His only concession to his fifty eight years was wings of grey at his temple. “I asked you a question, Bradley.” “I’m aware of that. I just didn’t think it required an answer.” “Don’t be impertinent,” Andrew said stiffly. “Interesting choice of words, that. I’m no longer a child you can chastise, Father. I don’t scare anymore.” His father scowled. “That was not my intention.” “Yeah, it was, but there’s no point going into that now is there?” He crossed his arm and took a quick steadying breath.

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Don’t let him rile you, Brad. Keep it cool and even. “Kevin thinks his mother was intentionally murdered. I tend to agree with him.” “That’s completely ridiculous. My sister was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. Probably coming home from one of those damn charity meetings she was always attending.” “You make it sound like it was her fault.” “It wasn’t, but to make anything more of her death is strictly the result an overactive imagination.” Brad released his clenched fists. Every conversation with his father ended this way. With both of them throwing words at each other. Maggie had stayed silent but when he looked her way, she raised an eyebrow. He read the message loud and clear. He leaned casually against the sink refusing to sit and be at a disadvantage. “I’ll give you the gist of what we talked about today because I told myself you deserved to know. Whether you believe what I’m going to tell you is up to you. It doesn’t matter to me one way or another.” He could see his father fighting for control and felt a momentary regret at being so confrontational. “Aunt Ellie’s death was the sixth in a string of drive by shootings that, at first glance, seemed random. Even before Kevin spoke to me, something didn’t feel right about the scenario. Why a quiet town in the south? A town with literally no crime? One fatal wound perfectly placed. Awfully lucky for a careless shot.” Andrew pulled a chair out, obviously intrigued. “What does that prove?” “Nothing by itself, but there is a common theme. One I just discovered a few days ago after doing some research on my own. Every one of the victims had a relative in law enforcement. My -26-

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belief is that these deaths aren’t accidental but the work of a serial killer.” “Ellie’s death was tragic and wasteful but certainly not premeditated,” Andrew said derisively. “Come on, Brad. Find a way to deal with your grief without fantasizing.” “I don’t think you’re one to talk about dealing with grief, are you, Father?” He watched his father open his mouth then close it, obviously catching the double edge to his words. “Fantasy or not,” Brad continued evenly, “I have to follow up on this. At least do enough research to discover if I’m right or wrong.” “Why haven’t the police instituted their own investigation, then?” “Because there isn’t enough to go on.” Andrew shook his head. “Give it up, Bradley. If those in the know don’t believe this bizarre theory, then you haven’t got a prayer. Just let it go.” “I can’t do that.” “Why?” “Because my instincts are telling me exactly the same thing Kevin’s are. And I trust my instincts.” “There’s a difference between trusting your instincts and letting your emotions overrule common sense,” Andrew said dryly, glancing at Maggie who was busy at the sink. The woman doted on his son. Always had. When he allowed himself to reflect, he knew he had been a poor father. The boy had become a self sufficient and successful man and he couldn’t take any of the credit for that. He had to admit he couldn’t help the pride he felt when that building had been erected with his son’s -27-

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name on the front. If nothing else, Brad had his bulldog tenacity and business acumen. He leaned back in his chair, frowning. “Okay, if that’s the case, how are you going to prove something that even the police don’t believe?” “I plan to take some time off to investigate. Really investigate.” “Why?” “Because,” Brad growled, “I need to bring to justice the vermin that killed the woman I loved as a mother. The woman who took a scarred adolescent and gave him all her love unconditionally, that’s why.” Andrew shook his head. “You’re letting your emotions cloud your judgment, Bradley. My sister might have been more impulsive than I liked but she would have told you the same thing.” Brad straightened abruptly. “What you call impulse, Aunt Ellie would say was a sixth sense. The difference is, she would trust me to use those instincts. Believe in me. But that’s something you would never understand, is it?” He turned without another word and opened the kitchen door, slamming it behind him. Maggie jerked at the sound and then flashed an accusing look across the room. For the first time, as he slumped back in his chair, Andrew felt his age. Every word his son had thrown at him had been true. Yet his pride, or his stubbornness, or both, prevented him from meeting him half way. Maggie noisily put the clean dishes in the cupboard, slamming the door. Her blue eyes shot sparks as she put her hands on her hips and spun to face him.

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“Fire me if you want to, Andrew Norton, but you need to hear a few home truths. That boy is now a man and yet he still craves your love. Or at least your acceptance of who he is and what he has become. Push him away much longer and you’ll die a lonely old man. He can’t keep paying for something that was never his fault.” Anger at her words died quickly. He nodded, sighing. “I know, Maggie. I know.” She poured him a cup of tea and placed it in front of him, not saying another word. When she began to move away, he stopped her with a hand on her arm. “How did I become so jaded, Maggie? I’ve lost my father, my mother, my wife and now my sister and yet I can’t seem to make peace with the one member of my family that still matters.” Her expression softened. She squeezed his hand, keeping it in hers for a brief moment. “That’s the heart of the thing, Andrew. You need to convince Brad he matters.” “If only it was that easy.” “It is that easy. The words count for little, it’s how you say them. He’ll know you mean them when you really mean them.” “Is that some kind of Irish proverb?” he asked derisively. “The Irish are famous for their intuition,” she tossed, an angry flush staining her cheeks as she pulled her hand away. “You would do well to heed their advice.” She flounced out, slamming the kitchen door with unnecessary force. Andrew sat there, a plate of cookies and steadily cooling tea in front of him and stared into space. -29-

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He’ll know you mean them when you really mean them. He rubbed his suddenly tired eyes. The advice he would heed. It was acting on that advice that was so very hard.

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Chapter Two “Alicia, the phone’s for you,” Alex called up the stairs. “Coming,” her sister called from somewhere in the recesses of the hallway. “Who is it?” Alex’s lips curved in amusement. It would appear her sister was in one of her dramatic moods from the uncharacteristic drawl in her voice. Probably had something to do with the school play she was starring in. “Brian Clayton.” She grinned at the muffled shriek as her sister flew down the stairs. “You’re not joking, are you? Because if you are…” Alex put a finger to her lips, covering the receiver. “It’s a shame he couldn’t see you right now, cream all over your face and in your scruffy robe. Maybe I should give him a description…” Her sister made a grab for the phone. “Don’t you dare!” Shaking her head, Alex wandered into the kitchen. The trials and tribulations of a sixteen year old, she thought sympathetically. Thank goodness she was ten years past that. She had no desire to live through those meteoric ups and dramatic downs of the age again. Once had been quite enough.

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She stirred the big pot of spaghetti sauce on the stove, lifting the lid so the luscious aroma filled the room. “Wow does that smell great,” her brother said as he walked through the back door. “Don’t tell me you finally learned how to cook?” “Stick it, bro,” she said, reaching over to give him a playful shove. The muscled bicep that met her touch surprised her for a moment. Damn! The kid was growing up, big time. “I’m starved! Coach says I need to eat lots of pasta. Keeps my stamina up.” “Yeah, like that’s ever been a problem. Dinner will be ready in about fifteen minutes.” “Great, I’ll grab a shower.” He dumped his books on the counter, stopping to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. She glanced up at him and then realized that was exactly what she was doing. Glancing up at him. “When did you get taller than me?” He rolled his eyes. “Big accomplishment. What are you? All of four foot eleven.” “Five foot exactly and don’t you forget it,” she said, waving the wooden spoon she was still holding at him. He bowed, looking so much like her father that she had to laugh. “Yes, ma’am, don’t beat me, ma’am.” “You’re full of it, you know that?” “So mom keeps telling me. Seriously, sis, thanks for staying with us. Otherwise, it would have been Aunt Helen. And that’s a fate worse than death.” “Get out of here.” She chuckled, waving the spoon again. -32-

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She began setting the table, looking around the big, old kitchen. She loved this house. Loved the wide covered porch that surrounded it, the tall ceilings and the warmth that emanated inside, not only from the comfortable furnishings but from the feeling of home she sensed each time she walked through the door. The Leahy family was large and never still. They were always involved in something at some point every minute of every day. But it had taken her twin brothers graduating from college to convince her parents to finally take that trip they had always put off. She, Alicia and Alan had flown back, leaving them out west with a rented motor home and a map. Her sister bounced into the room about ten minutes later, interrupting her thoughts, her face glowing. “You’re not going to believe this! Brian asked me, me, to homecoming.” She spun around the room, graceful even when she didn’t intend to be, and ended by wrapping both arms around her sister. “Isn’t that incredible.” Alex smiled, returning the hug. “I gather this is a good thing?” “A good thing! Brian Clayton is captain of the football team, head of student council and looks like Brad Pitt. He’s cute and really popular…and… “Thinks his you know what doesn’t stink,” Alan said, sliding into a chair and reaching for a heap of steaming noodles.” “You’re just jealous.” Alan eyed his sister calmly. “Nope. I’ve just heard the rumors around school. You fall hard and fast, sis. He’ll end up hurting you.” Alex put the salad in the middle of the round table, listening to the conversation with interest. Alicia was taller than Alex with vivid -33-

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blue eyes and mountains of dark, curly hair. She was supremely confident in her acting ability and Alex had no doubt that if Hollywood was what she wanted, Hollywood would want her. It was only a matter of time. “I can handle Brian, Alan.” “Okay, it’s your funeral,” Alan said, shrugging his shoulders as he loaded the pasta he had piled on his plate with a huge ladle of sauce. “What about you and Trish Jones?” she shot back. “I’ve seen that puppy dog look in your eyes when you watch her cheering at your football games.” He shook his head, his mouth full. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” The doorbell ringing had all three of them looking at each other in surprise. No one went to the front door of the Leahy house. Alan rose to answer it, untangling his lanky length from under the table. Alex began fixing her own plate, enjoying the family time she had been too busy to be part of lately. “So how’s your love life?” Alicia asked, a dimple flickering as she eyed her sister. “Non-existent.” Alex sighed. “Somehow I can’t find the time to fit a man into my busy life.” Alicia spun a layer of noodles around her fork speculatively. “Sis, with that hair and body it wouldn’t be because the men aren’t interested. What about Mike Stanford?” Alex shook her head. “Man was too impressed with his looks. Bored me within five minutes of our first and only date.”

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Alicia grinned. “I know. I didn’t like him either.” She chewed another mouthful of spaghetti thoughtfully. “You need a man with layers.” “Layers?” “Yeah. Someone who isn’t all out front. Those kinds of men bore you. You need a man that will keep you guessing, off balance.” “Interesting theory, Dr. Ruth.” Alicia’s eyes danced. “Happy to oblige. That’ll be fifty dollars.” “No problem. Wait until you get the bill for the meal…” “Alex, someone’s here to see you,” Alan called from the other room. She removed her napkin and stood, frowning slightly. It never failed, always at meal time. She walked through the front room and into the foyer. The man standing in front of her brother towered over him. She didn’t recognize him and there was no doubt if she had met him before, she would have. Massive shoulders, square jaw, long suit clad legs and dark eyes that were looking just a little confused at the moment. “Can I help you?” Brad glanced at the girl standing behind the young man who had greeted him. “I hope so. I’m looking for an Alex Leahy.” “I’m Alex Leahy.” His gaze flickered over her quickly, taking in the long auburn hair, creamy Irish complexion and brilliant green eyes. “That’s impossible.” “I assure you, Mr…” “Norton. Brad Norton.”

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“I assure you, Mr. Norton, I am Alex Leahy.” Her voice was cool and controlled as she crossed her arms. “What can I do for you?” Brad took a longer look at the woman in front of him. Beneath the casual jeans and sweatshirt she wore, he saw what he hadn’t before. The jeans hugged a petite but definitely shapely form and the green eyes that met his gaze steadily were surrounded by thick lashes and high cheekbones. He regrouped. “I’m sorry. There’s obviously been some mistake. I was looking for the Alex Leahy who owns the detective agency in town. I was given this address by the answering service.” He saw the woman give the younger man a pointed look and he straightened, leaving them alone. She swung her gaze back to him. “You haven’t made a mistake. Alex stands for Alexis. I own the agency in question.” So much for Kevin’s recommendation, he thought impatiently. He needed someone with at least as much experience as he had. Not a just out of diapers novice. “I assure you, Mr. Norton, I have been out of diapers for a very long time now. I prefer silk teddies as a matter of fact.” Shocked, he could only stare at her for a moment. Had he said what he had been thinking out loud? “Actually, you didn’t,” Alex said frankly, her smile totally confusing him. “Why don’t you join me in the kitchen and perhaps you can give me an idea of why you need a private investigator while I finish dinner.” “Perhaps I should return at another time. I certainly didn’t intend to interrupt your dinner.” She waved the apology aside with a careless toss of her hand.

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“Nothing around this house is formal, Mr. Norton. Guests at dinner time are par for the course. I don’t normally mix business with home life, but my parents are on vacation so I’m temporary boss for a few weeks.” He followed her into the kitchen, immediately feeling the sense of family that flowed throughout the room. He inhaled the rich smell of food permeating the air. “Please sit down and have dinner with us if you haven’t already eaten. It’s nothing fancy.” She moved toward the stove, waving in the general direction of the table. “Meet Bradley Norton,” she said to Alicia and Alan. “Have a seat,” Alan said, motioning toward the empty chair across from him. He started to shake his head and then thought better of it. His stomach was already reacting to the enticing aroma of the sauce sitting in the middle of the table. “As long as you don’t mind.” “Heck, the more the merrier,” Alan said, twirling a huge helping of spaghetti around his fork. “Kind of lonely around here without the whole crew anyway.” “There are more of you?” “Sure are,” the pretty girl at his side said, her blue eyes scanning him from top to bottom thoroughly. “I’m Alicia and this is Alan. Aside from Alex here we have twin brothers who are away at the moment. Not to mention Mom and Dad.” He

started

to

push

his

chair

back,

becoming

more

uncomfortable with interrupting what was obviously family time. “I really think this is a bad…” “Eat,” Alex said firmly, putting a heaping plate in front of him. -37-

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The battle of wills was apparent. Green eyes locked with his own for a split second and, after just a moment of hesitation, he found himself relaxing against the back of the chair and grabbing a fork. As Alex took her seat, he took his first mouthful. He couldn’t mask his sheer enjoyment of the spicy taste. “I gather you like spaghetti?” “When it tastes like this, absolutely.” She was silent while he ate but that didn’t prevent her sister and brother from asking questions. It was only after he mentioned that he owned a security company that she put it all together, however. Bradley Norton, wealthy entrepreneur, son of Andrew Norton. Old money. Lots of old money. “If you’re finished, Mr. Norton,” she said, standing and taking her plate to the sink, “why don’t we go into my father’s study and discuss why you’re here.” “I would appreciate that.” Alex caught his look and allowed a link with his thoughts briefly and then wished she hadn’t. Pompous ass! She grabbed the dirty plates and moved to the sink, keeping her quick temper in check with difficulty. She ran some soapy water, allowing the simple task to soothe. Normally she avoided connecting with people mentally, especially strangers, but it was extraordinarily easy to read this man’s thoughts. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the reason why. “You’re wrong, you know,” Alicia said quietly, putting a hand on Brad’s arm. He smiled. “Wrong about what?” “Alex. She’s very good, Mr. Norton. Very, very good.”

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“I hope so, Alicia. Because I have a feeling I’m going to need very, very good.” Alex switched the tap off and turned. “Ready?” He nodded, rising. “All right, why don’t you tell me the reason you’re seeking a private investigator?” Alex asked as she led the way to her father’s office. She perched gracefully on the corner of her father’s massive desk. She waved for him to take a seat in one of the two burgundy leather chairs in front. Brad settled back, his expression grim. “I think my aunt was murdered by a serial killer,” he said bluntly. “Why?” she asked, sympathy and interest warring with each other. “For a number of reasons.” “Care to expand on that?” He eyed her coolly for a moment. “To be frank, I’m not so sure I do.” She shrugged. “Then you’re wasting my time as well as yours, Mr. Norton.” “Perhaps so,” he agreed. “Are you naturally prejudiced against all woman or is it only me?” she asked, seething beneath her calm façade. “That’s not what’s happening here, Miss Leahy. I’m damn serious about this investigation. I’m just not sure you’re the right person for the kind of assistance I need.” “And you made this decision based on what?” she asked sweetly. “My size, my sex or the color of my hair?” Before he could respond she put a hand up, shaking her head. “Don’t bother answering that.” -39-

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Straightening, she walked around to the other side of the desk, reaching into her briefcase. She leaned over and handed him a sheet of paper. “To be frank, Mr. Norton, you’re very lucky that I’m feeling pleasantly full and amiable right now. Otherwise you’d be out the front door so fast your head would spin. I don’t need to seek clients. They come to me. Nor am I inclined to pull information from a potential one. That paper has a list of my most recent cases, names and numbers. I suggest, instead of wasting my time and yours, you talk to them.” Brad stood, eyeing the papers in his hand before glancing at her. “I think I’ve been firmly put in my place.” “That was not my intention, Mr. Norton.” “Brad. And, yeah, it was. But you’re right, more investigation is warranted. Because I need whoever takes this case and works with me to believe what I believe. That requires mutual trust.” His eyes met hers. “Maybe we should both do a little more research.” She was silent, opening the door and leading the way to the foyer. “You’ll be in touch,” she said calmly as he walked out onto the porch, closing the door behind him with a smart click. “The hell I will,” he thought, irritated once again. Investigating drive-by shootings across state lines was a whole lot different than spying on a cheating spouse or whatever it was she played at. Just wait until he got hold of Kevin!

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Chapter Three Damn! Alex Leahy wasn’t only good, she was very good. Brad ran a hand through his hair, staring at the computer screen in front of him. Not only had every one of her clients been extremely satisfied, but the scope of what she had investigated amazed him. The woman had a sixth sense, at least according to the numerous local news articles he had just read. There were even some national cases that she had consulted on. He took a deep gulp of the beer and then grimaced at the warm taste, glancing at his watch. He was surprised to find he had been sitting in front of the computer for over an hour. He stood, stretching the kinks in his neck out and grabbed his keys. He'd better get a move on it if he wanted to be on time for his meeting with Miguel Santos. Moments later, he slid into a parking place in front of Mugs, his favorite local bar. Nothing fancy about the place, but they made the best hamburgers in town. Miguel was sitting at a booth toward the back and waved to him, his mouth already full. Brad ordered a beer, waiting until the waitress left before greeting the dark-skinned man across from him. “What, you couldn’t wait ten minutes?” “Hey, señor, my stomach waits for no man.”

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The exaggerated accent didn’t fool Brad. Miguel Santos was one of the best criminal profilers in the country. He was also Brad’s closest friend and former college room mate. Their chosen careers didn’t allow them a lot of time to socialize, but they kept in touch just the same. Miguel washed his food down with a swig of beer and leaned back in his chair. “So you just yearned to see your old friend or you need me to pull your ass out of the fire again?” Brad laughed. “Works both ways, old pal. I seem to remember saving your sorry butt a few times as well.” “Filthy rumors.” Miguel’s teeth flashed white in the dimness of the bar. “Okay, so what gives?” Ten minutes later, his friend’s dark eyes were no longer smiling. “Hell, I’m sorry about your aunt, buddy. Rosa and I were on vacation visiting family right around that time. I would have been there for you.” Brad pushed away the quick wave of pain, touched at his friend’s sincerity. “Thanks. I know you would have. What I really need to find out is whether Kevin and I are way off base or if there is something to what we both suspect.” Miguel picked up the papers in front of him, reading the list Brad had handed him once again. “I can’t tell you that without further investigation, Brad. What I can tell you is that what you suspect is possible. The human mind is an amazing thing. Capable of discovering great things and just as capable of planning unimaginable evil. However, my instincts are telling me there’s more here than meets the eye. Either this is

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just what it looks like or someone has an agenda that goes beyond just a relative in law enforcement.” “Another link?” “Could be. Only way to find out is to investigate each and every case a whole lot more thoroughly.” “Cops already did that.” “Maybe, but they weren’t looking for the same thing you would be.” He glanced at the list again. “Pretty big task. You’ll need help.” “You aren’t offering your services?” Brad asked lightly. “I’ll do what I can here, amigo, but if you’re going to do it right, you’ll need to interview family, see the crime scenes. With Rosa due in less than a month, I can’t go that far away.” Brad’s thoughts ran to the lovely attorney his friend had married. He genuinely liked Rosa Santos. Liked the way his friend’s expression lit up when he spoke of her. Marriage wasn’t for him, never would be, but he was glad Miguel and his wife had made a success of it. Thus far, he thought cynically and immediately chastised himself. He wasn’t objective and he knew it. He took another gulp of his beer and mused out loud. “My college buddy, a father. Can’t quite imagine the all-star linebacker changing diapers.” Miguel’s smile was quick as he leaned forward, feigning a whisper. “Worst part is, neither can I. Lucky Rosa doesn’t know that.” Brad took another bite of his burger. “I still don’t know what the woman saw in you,” he teased. “Can’t imagine myself, to tell the truth. What’s even weirder is she likes you, old buddy.” Brad laughed. “Give her my love.” -43-

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“Why don’t you do that yourself? Come over for dinner Saturday and bring a significant other.” For some odd reason, Alex Leahy’s face suddenly flashed in front of him. He shook his head, grimacing. “Last one that fit that description slapped my face.” “Still striking out in the woman department, eh, amigo?” “I manage,” Brad said with a crooked curve of his lips. “Speaking of that, ever heard of a Leahy Detective Agency?” “Sure have. I know Alex very well. She’s one hot mama aside from being very good at what she does. Why?” “You know her that well?” Brad asked, surprised. “Met her a few years ago. Remember the kidnapping case Rosa was working on when she and I first met? Rich kid taken from his home here in Charleston.” Brad nodded. “Clayton Kraft’s son. If I remember correctly, they discovered him somewhere in the hills of West Virginia on a tip.” “Alex Leahy was responsible for that tip. Rosa introduced her to me before she testified at the trial. Classy lady. Went out to dinner with her a few times. She and Rosa have become fast friends.” “So you think she’s a good investigator? She sure doesn’t look the type.” Miguel tossed him a quick look. “Didn’t fall all over you, huh? Rosa told me she had to work long and hard to get credit for her expertise. Probably because she doesn’t look like your typical PI. As a matter of fact, she isn’t.” “Isn’t what?” “Your typical P.I. She senses things, sees things other don’t.” Brad stopped mid-bite and put his burger back down. “What are you saying?” -44-

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“I’m saying she’s got something. Some kind of clairvoyance. Kraft had the best there was looking for his son but she was the one that knew exactly where he was and what the kidnapper looked like. Could even describe the man’s features.” “You’re scaring me, pal. How many beers did you have before I got here?” Miguel shook his head, lifting his glass. “Only my second. You don’t believe me, talk to Rosa. She’ll tell you. If you’re thinking of hiring her to help you with this, you got the right person in my opinion.” Brad was silent as he finished his burger, considering what his friend had just said. He didn’t believe in ESP or any of that other stuff, but he also couldn’t ignore the fact that Alex Leahy had convinced some pretty impressive people of her talents. “That invitation still stand for Saturday?” “Yep. Bring the woman.” He tossed some money on the table. “Assuming you can convince her to come with you. I gather the two of you didn’t hit it off right away?” Brad reached for his wallet. “I’ll just use my considerable charm,” he quipped, avoiding a direct answer. “Yeah, and run the risk of getting slapped again? I’d just ask her straight out. It wouldn’t hurt to mention Rosa’s name, either. Make it about six.” He slapped Brad on the back. “See you then, buddy.” “Si, señor,” Brad shot back. “And thanks, Miguel.” “That’s what friends are for.” Brad walked slowly to his car, his mind racing. He slid in, flipping his cell phone open at the same time.

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“Kevin, its Brad. I’m curious. Who recommended Alex Leahy to you?” “Believe it or not,” Kevin answered on the other end, “an associate of Carolyn’s.” “Why that agency?” “From what I hear, he’s good friends with the coroner. It seems this Alex Leahy came in the day after a particularly brutal homicide involving a young mother and asked to see the victim. After about fifteen minutes, she told him to call the police. She described the killer in detail. They put the picture on national television and had their murderer the next day.” “Come on, Kevin. You’ve got to know that sounds crazy.” “Crazy or not, this guy said he’d never seen anything like it. Wasn’t the first time the police had used her services either.” “Ever meet her?” “Nope, but I hear she’s a knockout.” “You knew Alex was a woman,” Brad accused. “Yeah, I did. Also knew if I told you that fact you’d fight me even harder about hiring her.” Kevin’s voice changed. “Listen, Brad, I know you don’t like the idea of working with someone else, but we need all the help we can get. Even if it means taking our chances with a clairvoyant or whatever it is she is.” “I hope you’re right. Call you in a few days when I have more.” He disconnected the call, tossing the phone on the leather seat. Damn it! Whether he liked it or not, it appeared he was going to have to hire one Alex Leahy. He absently pushed a button and the sun roof slid back. He welcomed the slightly chilly air as he made his way back home. He had interviewed several other agencies immediately after his meeting with Alex but, for some reason, none -46-

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of them had impressed him. Worst part was, after their initial meeting, he wasn’t at all sure the woman would take the job anyway. He might as well bite the bullet and swing by her office right now. Get the groveling over with as soon as possible and get on with the investigation. He didn’t like it, but it appeared he had no choice. *** He found the charming old house that had been converted into several offices on a side road downtown and parked in front. A slightly plump woman with graying hair was sitting behind a desk busily typing on a computer. At the sound of the bell, she turned, smiling. “Good afternoon, sir. What can I do for you?” “I’d like to speak to Miss Leahy if she’s in.” He reached for a business card. “My name is Brad Norton.” “As a matter of fact, she’s…” The door behind her opened just at that moment and Alex walked through, glancing down at some papers she held in her hand. “Nora, take a look at these. I’m not sure how old they are but—” She stopped speaking suddenly, her gaze finding Brad’s. “Mr. Norton, I’ve been expecting you,” she said, her eyes cool and direct. “Please, come back to my office.” Before he could say anything, she turned to her secretary. “Do me a favor, Nora, and hold all the calls until we’re done. Thanks.” There was no mistaking the fact that she wasn’t a girl this time, he thought, following her down a short hallway. The crisp green dress she had on was simple but it hinted at every curve

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beneath. It ticked him off that he felt at a disadvantage once again. It was time to change that. Her office took him by surprise. He was expecting antique furniture, dainty chairs and whimsical paintings. Instead, it was no nonsense and serviceable. A huge oak desk sat in the middle with several filing cabinets behind it. There was clutter, but it appeared to be an organized mess. Comfortable chocolate-brown chairs flanked both sides of the room. He was right about the paintings, however. He walked over to get a closer look. Several decorated the walls, one a soft watercolor of the sea and emerald green grass with children playing in the sand. Another, much darker, was of a castle. Its turrets were lit by a flash of brilliant lightning, huge waves from the sea splashing behind it. He could almost hear the roar of the tide and the crack of thunder. His gaze slid to the bottom and he turned, surprised. “You painted these?” She nodded silently. He turned back. “They’re good. Really good.” “Thank you.” Alex studied him openly. She could feel the pull between them, feel the tension and a shiver of apprehension shot through her. Their future hadn’t been revealed to her as of yet but she had no doubt their lives would be entwined one way or another. She just hadn’t made up her mind whether that was a good or bad thing. Not for him but for her. At the age of twenty-six, she had managed to keep her heart whole. Oh, there had been men, a fair amount of them, but Brad Norton was different. A smile played about her lips as she took stock of the man in front of her.

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Damn! The man looked good standing there with the sunlight shining on his raven hair and his tanned skin. The breadth of his shoulders and his muscular build were attraction enough, but there was something else that appealed to her. Something below the surface. What was it Alicia had said? She needed a man with layers. She had the definite feeling that Bradley Norton had a lot. “I gather you took my advice and contacted some of my previous clients?” she asked, curling into one of the overstuffed chairs. She caught his look of surprise when she slipped out of her high heels and tucked her feet underneath her. “I seldom find the need to impress, Mr. Norton. What you see is what you get.” “I have to admit what I see certainly is worth looking at,” he said, smiling. “Well, well. It appears this meeting is starting off a little better than the previous one.” He walked over to the big desk and leaned against it. Folding his arms across his chest, he stretched his long legs in front of him. “Comfortable?” she asked, fighting the urge to smile. His lips twitched. “I figure if you aren’t into protocol then I shouldn’t be either.” She laughed. “Touché! I like a man with a quick wit.” “Good. Because you’re right, I did talk to some of your previous clients and I have to admit, I’m impressed. It appears I was wrong. You’re very good at what you do, Miss Leahy.” “Alex. Yes, I am, Mr. Norton.” “Brad,” he corrected. “I apologize for acting the way I did when we first met. You have to understand, however, that what I’m

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about to hire you for, if you’ll accept, is very important and very personal to me.” “I never take a case where the client doesn’t feel just as you do, Brad. In fact, I have a few rules that I always follow. I don’t take cases where I don’t trust or like the client, no matter how interesting they are and I see no point in wasting my time with a client who isn’t totally committed to solving what he or she has hired me to do.” “Are you clairvoyant?” “Among other things. It is one of the reasons I have been as successful as I have. Make no mistake, I have the credentials.” She motioned to the wall where several framed diplomas hung. “I graduated with a degree in criminology and worked for several years with the local police force before I hung my own shingle out.” “And the other things?” “Personal,” she responded. When he didn’t pry further, her opinion of him went up a few notches. “You’re not the only one who’s done some research, you know. You’re quite an interesting character, Bradley Norton.” “Ah… people singing my praises, are they?” She shrugged, smiling lightly. “Perhaps. For instance, I know you graduated top of your class in high school, went to Yale and made the Dean’s list more than once. Norton Securities is listed in Forbes as a Fortune 500 company and, unlike popular opinion, you started that company from scratch with your own money.” His gaze shot to hers. “It appears you have very good informants, Alex.” “I do. I also know you lived with your aunt for most of your adolescent years. Her death must have been very hard for you.” -50-

A Killer's Agenda

“It was,” he said, frowning. “Do you always investigate your clients so thoroughly?” She eyed him steadily. “Absolutely. I seldom make a mistake when I take a case and it would be foolish to go in blindly.” “So I can assume I passed the test?” “You wouldn’t be here talking to me if you hadn’t. Now, what I don’t know, other than the fact that your aunt was killed by what the police termed a drive-by shooting, is why you suspect otherwise?” When he was finished some fifteen minutes later, she leaned back in her chair thoughtfully. “Your link is tenuous at best, Brad.” “You don’t think it merits investigating further?” “I didn’t say that. My senses are telling me there’s more and I never doubt my instincts.” “Funny, that’s just what Miguel Santos said this afternoon.” That caught her attention. “You know Miguel?” He nodded. “Rosa as well. He and I were college roommates. I met him for lunch this afternoon. He sang your praises all through the meal.” She laughed. “Knowing Miguel, I don’t doubt it. The man could convince an Eskimo he needed to buy an igloo. If he thought I was the right person for the job, he’d never let up. Makes him so good at what he does.” “You do know him.” Brad grinned. “I also know his expertise as a serial profiler is well known. Did you ask him about what you suspect?”

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He nodded. “I did and he basically feels the same as you. It’s obvious if I am to convince the law, I need more solid evidence. That’s where you come in.” “If Miguel hadn’t recommended my services then Rosa would have.” She smiled. “Unfortunately lately we’ve lost touch with one another. She was on vacation in Mexico and about the time she was due back I was out west for my brothers’ graduation.” “Then you might not know that Rosa is pregnant. Due in about a month.” “That’s wonderful! She’s wanted a baby for so long. That clinches it. I’ll call her later this evening and make a date for lunch.” “How about dinner Saturday at their house instead? Miguel invited both of us with the idea we could discuss the case.” “Sounds great.” She curled out of the chair as gracefully as she sat, sliding back into her shoes. “Unfortunately, I have another appointment I can’t postpone in a few minutes.” She extended a slender hand. “I look forward to working with you, Brad.” “No contract to sign?” he asked, wrapping his fingers around hers. There was warmth in her touch. It traveled up his body and seemed to envelop him. A dimple flickered in and out of her cheek. “No contract. If either of us finds working with the other unacceptable, we simply call it off. Agreed?” He hadn’t released her hand and she hadn’t pulled it away either. He lifted his free hand and caught a soft red curl, wrapping it around his finger lightly. “I’m a business man, Alex. I think a firmer commitment should be in order.” She raised a brow. “Really. What would you suggest?” -52-

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“Something like this,” he said, leaning down to catch her lips in a quick kiss. At least that was his intention. A quick kiss, maybe to knock her a little off balance. Make him feel a little more in control again. He was a man who needed to plan, keep things in perspective. The woman alternately irritated and intrigued him. He wasn’t comfortable with how that made him feel. Only it didn’t happen. She felt so right in his arms, her curves molding to his as if they were designed to fit perfectly. He wasn’t sure who deepened the kiss, didn’t care. The kiss ended long minutes later with neither of them attempting to break the embrace. He rubbed a thumb gently along her wrist, feeling the rapid beat of her heart. It matched his. “You kiss very nicely, Bradley Norton,” she said, stepping back slowly, cheeks flushed. He nodded, stroking her cheek lightly. “So do you, Alexis Leahy. So do you.” “That kiss could complicate things, you know.” “Yeah, it could but we won’t let it, will we?” She opened the door and leaned against it. “Not everything that we do is under our control, Brad. No matter what your father might have taught you. See you Saturday at what time?” “Six o’clock,” he answered, the now familiar feeling that she was messing inside his head disturbing him. “I’ll pick you up.” “No. I’ve got some things to do. Meet you there.” She closed the door gently as he walked through, not giving him time to continue the conversation. He moved into the hall wavering between whether he was impressed or ticked off or both. Nora smiled up at him from her desk. “Is there something else I can help you with, Mr. Norton?” -53-

Anita Whiting

“No. No, thank you,” he murmured, making his way out into the sunshine. He drove home slowly, his thoughts muddled. The woman was full of contradictions. One minute she was tucking her feet underneath her, flirting lightly, and the next putting him firmly in his place, those incredible green eyes searing right through him. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t dated other women. He had, several of them for a long period. Most of the time, the relationships were casual and mutually satisfying. They didn’t leave him feeling frustrated and on edge. He forced himself to switch gears. After all, none of that was important. What really mattered was her ability to help him find his aunt’s killer. He walked into his condo, throwing his keys on the foyer table. The blinking answering machine light caught his eye as he grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator. He took a satisfying gulp and then switched the machine on. The voice that began speaking had him sitting up straight, his drink forgotten. “Bradley, I’ve thought about what you told me earlier and, although I have my reservations, I took the liberty of contacting Russell Ferron. He happens to be an acquaintance of mine. It was his wife that was killed about nine months ago in Charlotte. He has agreed to speak with you. I’m still not sure this is wise, but if you feel there is something to what you suspect, meeting with him might be a good starting place. I’ve emailed you both his address and his home and office numbers.”

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Brad clicked the off button, sinking down on the couch. He didn’t even know his father had his phone number. What was even harder to believe was, if he read between the lines, it appeared Andrew Norton was actually offering him an olive branch of sorts. He picked up the phone and moments later Maggie answered. “Afternoon, Maggie. Is my father home?” “Not yet, Brad. You can reach him at the office for about another half an hour if you need him, though.” He glanced at the clock on the mantel. “Of course. What was I thinking? I should know the time table by now.” “It won’t work if you don’t give, Brad,” Maggie said sharply. “What won’t work?” he asked, although he knew exactly what she was talking about. “Mending your relationship with your father.” “I

know,

Maggie.

I

guess

I’ve

inherited

more

of

his

stubbornness than I want to admit.” “Actually, your mother could hold her own in that category as well. When she thought she was right, she stood aside for no one.” That brought a smile to his face. “Looks like I don’t have a chance then. Listen, Maggie, do you know someone by the name of Russell Ferron?” There was silence on the other end of the phone for a brief moment. “Seems to me the name sounds familiar. Why?” “His wife was killed the same way Aunt Ellie was, about three months before, in Charlotte.” “Oh, yes. Now I remember. Well-known family in the area.” Her voice changed. “You think she was killed by the same person as your aunt?” -55-

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“It’s a possibility. My father left a message saying he knew the husband. Arranged for me to meet him.” “Andrew did that?” Maggie asked in surprise. “Yeah, he did. I know. I’m still recovering from the shock as well. Strange coincidence both Aunt Ellie and this man’s wife died the same way. Maybe he saw that as well.” “He’s trying, laddie. Meet him half way.” “I intend to. Let him know I called and I’ll be in touch.” “I will. Be careful, love. If what you suspect is really true, then there might be someone out there that won’t be happy at you pushing for information.” “Irish intuition?” “Motherly instinct. Visit soon, you hear.” “Yes, ma’am.” He grinned into the phone as he disconnected the call. Checking his emails, he found his father’s message. He began dialing the phone and then hesitated. If he was going to hire Alex Leahy to assist with the investigation, then she needed to be there from the start. It was time to see if she was as good as her reputation painted her. The weekend would be soon enough to make that appointment. *** Saturday dawned sunny and pleasantly warm. Brad grabbed his keys and slid open the sun roof once again. The breeze was refreshing and, for the first time in a long while, he felt a burden lift from his shoulders. The combined heaviness of the day-to-day running of a growing, successful company and the months of grief

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he still held inside after his aunt had died had weighed heavily on him without his even realizing it. The grief was slowly ebbing and being replaced by a firm resolve to find the person who killed her. He was taking a big step today. He didn’t trust or open himself up to strangers easily. He had discovered very early doing that could lead to being hurt. So he had kept his emotions in check, his girlfriends casual and work had been his panacea. The drive to Miguel and Rosa Santos’ house was pleasant. They lived on the outskirts of the city in a big farm-style house with several acres around it. He pulled into the driveway beside a vintage ’65 Mustang convertible. A grin curved his lips. The car had to be Alex Leahy’s. Somehow it fit her to perfection. Before he could knock at the door, it opened and a doe-eyed, dark-haired woman embraced him long and hard. As well as she could, considering her very round stomach. “Brad, it’s so good to see you again.” Rosa pulled back and searched his face for a long moment. “You should have called when Ellie died. She was a very special person. We would have been there.” Brad squeezed her shoulders gently. “I know you would have.” She gave him her best jury glare. “Don’t you dare let months go by without visiting us again, you hear me?” He nodded, linking her arm with his and they walked inside the large, bright foyer. “Yeah, haven’t seen you in awhile and look at the weight you’ve gained,” he teased. She smiled, putting a hand on her protruding belly. “Isn’t it wonderful? I was thrilled the first time I had to wear maternity clothes.” She slipped her hand from his and motioned toward the

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deck. “Miguel’s out back with Alex. He’s barbecuing steaks. I’ll just grab the salad and be right with you.” Brad walked through the glass doors and stopped just outside, taking in the picture in front of him. Alex sat at the patio table, her titian hair flowing down her back, laughing at something Miguel was saying. She was casually dressed in jeans and a green blouse that matched her eyes. Miguel saw him first. “Brad, old man, hope you’re hungry because I spent half my salary on these steaks. I figured this reunion deserved something special.” “I’m always ready for steak. Afternoon, Alex.” “Hi, Brad.” She rose gracefully. “I better go see if Rosa needs any help and let the two of you do your man thing.” Both of them watched her leave. Miguel tossed a look toward Brad. “She’s a pretty special lady, amigo. Not to mention she’s not so bad to look at either,” he finished innocently. “Can it, Miguel,” Brad warned, slinging one long leg over a bar stool and settled against it. Miguel flipped the steaks and lowered the flame. Walking to the bar, he offered Brad a can of soda. Popping his own, he took a long drink and then leaned back against the rail. “How’s the investigation going?” “Haven’t really started yet I’m planning to meet with the husband of the woman killed in Charlotte a few months before my aunt. Name of Russell Ferron.” “He agree to see you?” “I haven’t called him yet. I thought it would be a good idea to talk to both you and Alex before I arranged a meeting.”

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Miguel’s eyes narrowed as he turned to tend the meat. “Russell Ferron. I don’t know if the name sounds familiar because I read about his wife’s death or for some other reason.” Rosa walked outside in the middle of their conversation. She placed a large bowl of salad on the table while Alex began setting the plates and silverware. “That’s probably because you’ve heard me mention him a few times.” “Now that I think of it, you’re right.” Miguel agreed, moving to check the steaks again. Rosa poured herself a glass of lemonade and eyed Brad thoughtfully. “I met the man on several occasions before we moved south. In the court room a few times and socially once or twice. I heard through the grapevine about his wife. She was a very nice lady and definitely the classier of the two. Came from big money and rumor had it she set Russell up in practice.” “Was he a good lawyer?” Brad asked. “Adequate. Smooth, slick and very aware of his good looks. It isn’t a stretch to say he was successful primarily due to his wife’s very prominent name and influence.” “How was their marriage?” “I wasn’t close enough to either of them to know. What I can tell you is that the woman was definitely in love with him. I’m not so sure he felt the same way about her. He had a roving eye and rumor had it that there were some affairs his wife didn’t know about.” “Nice guy,” Alex said cynically. Miguel brought over a huge platter filled with sizzling steaks and they all sat down.

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“This is delicious, Miguel,” Alex said, taking another bite. “It’s been ages since I’ve had a good steak.” Rosa smiled. “It’s so wonderful to have you both here.” She patted her stomach. “Now that I’ve slowed down, I hope we can make time to do this again.” “Assuming

Junior

doesn’t

decide

to

put

in

an

early

appearance,” Miguel said. “So what are you going to name this munchkin?” Brad asked, helping himself to some salad. “We’re not sure yet because we didn’t want to know the sex. Makes it more fun that way.” Miguel shook his head. “She’s just afraid I’ll come up with something off the wall.” Rosa rolled her eyes. “You bet. After he threw Percival and Dexter at me, I figured either he was teasing or I’d have to wait until he wasn’t around and forge his signature on the birth certificate.” The lighthearted banter continued through dinner and dessert with all of them catching up on each other’s lives. It was pleasant and relaxing and Alex found her gaze straying to Brad on more than one occasion. There was something about the man that definitely appealed. He was comfortable with these people, but she could detect a reserve within that prevented him from totally letting down his guard. She had a feeling she was going to have to fight the urge to discover the reason. The men helped cleared the table and moved back outside after dinner while Rosa and Alex put food away and rinsed dishes. Rosa put the last plate in the dishwasher and then turned to Alex.

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“So what do you think of Charleston’s most eligible bachelor?” she asked, tossing a look out the patio doors at the two men. “I haven’t formed an opinion yet.” Rosa’s gaze flipped back to her. “Tell that to someone who believes such nonsense. Of course you’ve formed an opinion. You wouldn’t have taken his case if you hadn’t.” Alex perched on one of the breakfast stools. “Okay, he’s tall, dark and handsome. Satisfied?” Rosa shook her head. “No way. Come on, give. What do those very acute senses of yours tell you?” “The man is successful, smart and has hidden depths.” Rosa settled onto a kitchen chair, her dark eyes sharpening with interest. “Tell me more.” Alex took her time answering. She trusted Rosa and knew anything she was to say would stay with her friend. “If you’re asking if I’ve messed inside his head, the answer is no. However, I’ve caught glimpses of things. He was devastated when his aunt died and he firmly believes she was murdered by someone with an agenda. Underneath that, he’s giving me vibes about a strained relationship with his father. Am I right?” Rosa shook her head in amazement. “Woman, you are incredible! Brad and his father have been at odds for a long time. I don’t feel comfortable going into more than that, but you’re right on target. He’s been hurt, Alex. That’s a part of him that he very seldom lets anyone see. Of course, if what Miguel tells me is true, the two of you are going to spend some time up close and personal so maybe you can burrow into his psyche.” “No way, Rosa. I learned a long time ago to keep my clairvoyance firmly in check. I sleep better that way.” -61-

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Their conversation was interrupted when Brad and Miguel walked in. “What, the two of us smell or something?” Miguel teased, wrapping an arm around his wife. “Well, we didn’t want to say anything…” Alex responded, holding her nose. “You never used to be such a smart ass.” Miguel retorted. “My old roommate must be rubbing off on you.” “Nope. Learned it all on my own.” Miguel glanced at Brad. “I hope you know what you’re getting into, hiring this lady, buddy.” “I’m learning,” Brad said, lips twitching. “Speaking of that, what say we go over what you’ve got so far? Line things up once more. Maybe I can give you some insight if I study the timeline in black and white.” “I figured as much.” Brad said as he stood and lifted a briefcase sitting on the floor. He pulled out several sheets of paper. “I’ve made copies of what I’ve put together. God knows I’ve stared at it long enough.” Miguel took his time studying the papers. He finally leaned back in his chair, his brow furrowed. “I’ll tell you right now, Brad, I’m with you on this. These killings are too precise, too clean, not to have been done by a professional. Four of the six victims, including your aunt, were shot once, fatally, according to the police reports. Only the two teenagers were murdered by a spray of bullets.” He crossed his arms, leaning back against the counter. “Your killer is bright. I wouldn’t be surprised if those two boys were murdered to cool the trail a bit.” “A decoy?” Alex asked. -62-

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“Precisely. I can’t give you any more without additional data. What I can tell you is that I’m getting a stronger and stronger feeling that this isn’t just someone with a thing against the law. People who hold grudges that powerful aren’t usually methodical in their revenge and they usually aren’t skilled marksman.” “Well, if that’s the case, it shoots my theory to hell,” Brad said. “Only way I could link all six murders was with that connection.” “That’s what he wants us to think,” Alex said quietly. Instantly all eyes were on her. “How do you know that?” Brad asked. She shrugged. “I don’t know how I know, I just know.” “If you’re right, then what is the connection?” She closed her eyes briefly. “This man, and it’s a man, is afraid of a woman. Afraid of what she knows. What she might do. He kills because of it.” She opened her eyes, regretfully shaking her head. “That’s all I can tell you at the moment.” “Well that’s as clear as mud,” Brad muttered. “I was under the impression you wanted my help,” Alex said curtly, turning toward him. “I do.” “Then I suggest, instead of ridiculing what my senses are telling me, you file it away in that methodical brain of yours for further use. It would be more productive.” “She’s got a point, amigo,” Miguel said, grinning. “If this guy has a motive then that leads credence to your suspicion. Now you need to find out what that motive is.” Alex saw the conflicting emotions on Brad’s face, could feel his unease in believing in what he didn’t understand.

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“Remember what I said about my criteria for taking a case, Brad?” she asked coolly. “You’re not the only one making the decisions.” Rosa squeezed Alex’s hand, frowning. “Excuse me for being blunt, Brad, but don’t be a fool. If you feel firmly that your aunt was murdered, then Alex just gave you the confirmation you needed. So go with it, for crying out loud.” Right or wrong, Alex’s natural curiosity compelled her to glimpse inside Brad’s mind. What she saw saddened her. Fantasy and the illogical weren’t part of his upbringing or his makeup. He’d never pretended as a child, wasn’t allowed. There were numbers and hard facts and strict routines but no day dreams. Unexpected tears glistened in her eyes, tears for the small boy and not the grown man. He shrugged. “I guess I don’t have any choice, do I?” “Yes you do, Brad,” she said evenly. She rose, shouldering her purse and leaned down to kiss Rosa on the cheek. “I’ll give you a call next week and we can meet for lunch. Take care of her, Miguel, and call me the minute something happens and thanks for a truly wonderful meal.” She turned to leave but didn’t get far as Brad captured her wrist, spinning her back toward him as he stood. “You’ve got to curb that quick temper of yours if we’re going to work together for the next few weeks, lady. Won’t get much accomplished otherwise.” The resentment slowly faded as she caught the message behind the words. “That will never happen. My parents have worked on it for years.” “Your family all have the same temperament?” he asked wryly. -64-

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Her lips tilted. “To varying degrees.” “God help your mother then.” “Actually, I think I inherited hers.” Brad moaned as Miguel rose, laughing, and slapped him on the back. “Good luck, buddy. You’re going to need it.” Rosa swatted him with a towel lying on the counter and slipped an arm around Alex’s waist. “All jokes aside, you two, be careful. The criminal mind works in strange ways. Miguel and I can both attest to that. If this nutcase thinks you’re getting close, there’s no telling what he’ll do to stop you.” “Speaking of close, it would seem the logical start would be to visit this Russell Ferron.” Brad turned to Alex. “You up for a road trip?” “I will be Monday. My parents are due to arrive back from vacation tomorrow and I can relinquish the family reins and move home after that.” She hugged Rosa again. “Which is why I have to get moving. God forbid Mom arrives and the house isn’t in tip top order.” She was aware Brad wasn’t comfortable with family and suddenly she wanted to change that. She barely knew the man, but she could feel the pain inside of him and the hurt he had buried deep. What was more, she knew without a doubt that there was something between them. Wasn’t sure she liked it but it was there nonetheless. She intended to find out what that something was. She waited until they reached her car. Tossing her purse inside, she turned to look up at him. “To be honest, I could use some help tomorrow afternoon if you have the time.”

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The surprise showed in his expression. “What kind of help?” he asked warily. “Alan has a football game tomorrow morning and Alicia has play practice. There are a number of things I’d like moved back to my house before my parents get home. It wouldn’t take long.” He shook his head. “Come on, Alex. Don’t tell me you don’t know at least ten men who would jump at the chance to do that.” “I think that was a compliment but I’m not sure,” she said, laughing up at him. “Yes or no?” “Why me?” “Does there have to be a hidden reason?” “I’m not sure but I’m beginning to think with you, always.” “I’m not that devious. I just need a man’s strong shoulder and yours seem more than adequate.” His lips curled. “I think that was a compliment but I’m not sure,” he mimicked. “Okay, you’ve got the muscle. What time?” “Around ten. That’ll give me a chance to get things in order. My parents are due in at five or so.” He nodded, putting a hand on each shoulder, thumbs caressing the soft skin of her neck. “How is it you’ve managed to get under my skin already?” She didn’t laugh. “That’s not a question I can answer, Brad. But I think you can if you look deep enough. See you tomorrow.” With a wave of her hand, she was gone, leaving him standing in the middle of the driveway. Damn the woman! Would he ever be able to figure her out? He had a gut feeling if he did look deep enough the answer just might scare the hell out of him.

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Chapter Four The day dawned gloomy and dark with torrential rain that sometimes plagued the area. No open windows this morning, Brad thought. The windshield wipers were barely keeping up with the blast of water. Why he had agreed to help a woman he barely knew move was beyond him. No, he knew why. She intrigued him. Maybe it was this clairvoyance she professed to or maybe it was the fact that she had an answer to his every question. Either way, he wasn’t at all sure he liked it. Not one bit. He welcomed the chill of the rain as he walked swiftly up the porch steps. It served to clear his brain if nothing else. Before he could knock, the door opened and Alicia rushed out, a cap pulled low over her dark curls and a back pack slung over her shoulder. “I’ll be home about one or two,” she tossed back as she barreled directly into Brad. He caught her before she lost her balance. Startled, she looked up and then grinned, reminding him of her sister. “Sorry about that, Mr. Norton. Alex said you were coming this morning.” She took a few steps backward, closing the door against the rain. “Nice body,” she remarked, gazing at the damp black tee shirt that molded his chest and shoulders. He raised a brow in surprise, his lips twitching. In her own way, Alicia threw him off balance just as easily as her sister did.

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“Don’t move,” she commanded, closing her eyes for a brief second. She stood perfectly still for a few moments and then flung her arms out dramatically, her expression suddenly intense. “I see the scene. Pouring rain. She doesn’t know he’s returned from the war. She rushes out the door, late for work and he’s standing there. She doesn’t see him and before she knows it, she’s in his arms. Tears mingle with the rain as their lips lock and he pulls her close. Scene fades with fog swirling around both of them.” She sighed, leaning against the doorjamb, her dreamy blue eyes opening and finding his. “We’d be a natural. Care to wait for five or six years and then take Hollywood by storm?” Suppressing laughter, he shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he said dryly. “Although thanks for the compliment.” “Darn! I guess it’s just as well. By then I’d be in my prime and you’d be getting old.” Brad’s gaze snapped to hers. When she grinned impishly, he couldn’t help laughing. “I figured that would get a reaction,” she said mischievously. “Go on in. Alex is somewhere in there, cleaning like mad.” She skipped down the stairs. “By the way, I meant it about the nice bod. See you later.” He watched her drive away, amused, and then turned and rang the doorbell. It was flung open almost immediately. Alan stood there, dressed in sweats, a sandwich in one hand and a large glass of milk in the other. “Hey, man, come on in. Thanks for helping Alex this morning,” he said, swallowing a mouthful of food. “We don’t normally practice on Sunday but it’s a really big game next weekend. I can’t miss it

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or the coach’ll have my head. Alex told me to tell you coffee’s on in the kitchen if you want some. Gotta go.” He reached behind Brad and grabbed a helmet sitting on the foyer table, then grimaced at the rain. “Lousy morning to practice in.” He glanced back at Brad. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m young. I can take it.” He began to whistle as he slammed the door behind him. Brad found himself grinning as he saw him pull a hood over his head and jump into a car that pulled to the curb minutes later. For some reason, he found himself wondering how his father would have reacted to the last ten minutes. Yeah, right. No child of Andrew Norton’s would have been as spontaneous, as sure of themselves. It was then it struck him like a lightning bolt. Hell! He was becoming his father without even realizing it. He liked order, predictability. That was the reason Alex Leahy mesmerized him. She was impetuous, mysterious, and contradictory. Everything he wasn’t and yet he was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Like a forbidden fruit that he desperately wanted to savor. The sound of the vacuum cleaner interrupted his thoughts. Instead of climbing the stairs, however, he wandered into the kitchen, helping himself to the coffee Alan had mentioned. He liked this room, liked the way it made him feel with its warm oak cabinets and table. A pang of memory shot through him. Besides Maggie’s cozy domain, the kitchen had often been his favorite place at his aunt’s as well. She had given him her unbiased and complete love when he had so desperately needed it. There had been long talks around the kitchen table, dinner conversation that skillfully guided a lost teenager out of his shell. The sting of unexpected tears surprised him. Guess it would be a long time

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before the pain disappeared entirely. His memory of her deserved as much. He took a deep, steady breath, inhaling the fragrance of the coffee. As he took another sip, the noise upstairs stopped. No point in reliving the past. His job now was to find this creep and make him pay. Moments later, Alex appeared, her curls tamed in a casual pony tail. She wore scruffy jeans and a Panthers tee shirt that was about two sizes too big for her. The pull was there again the minute he set eyes on her. Not one of the women he had dated would have been caught dead in the outfit she was wearing, at least not in front of him. Her lack of artifice was immensely appealing, not to mention the fact that those scruffy jeans hugged her curves admirably. “Morning, Brad. Thanks again for coming over.” She sighed, lips curving as she helped herself to a cup of coffee. “I’m almost done. My idea of a clean room and my siblings' differ markedly, but I promise I won’t keep you long.” She tucked one leg underneath her as she curled into a kitchen chair, taking a sip of coffee with obvious enjoyment. “I gather Alan and Alicia have already welcomed you? I heard your car drive in before my sister left.” “Welcomed is a mild way of putting it,” he responded wryly. She laughed. “I know exactly what you mean. Alicia doesn’t just live life, she embraces it. Things are never dull when she’s around.” He leaned back in his chair, wrapping his big hands around the mug of coffee. “Do any of you ever stop for a breather?” “Sure. If we have to. This is minor. Just imagine my mother and father and my twin brothers here as well.” -70-

A Killer's Agenda

“I’d rather not.” “Chicken,” she teased, setting her cup down. “Have you contacted the attorney in Charlotte?” “Last night. He’s agreed to meet with us Monday afternoon if that works for you.” “It does only because I purposely kept my schedule light due to my parents being away. As a matter of fact, I’ve got a few weeks relatively free.” “Good. Then we’ll leave tomorrow about eight. It’ll take half a day to drive there without rushing.” “Sounds fine.” She warmed both their cups with fresh coffee. “If you don’t mind a suggestion, instead of wasting time going back and forth, why don’t we continue north after tomorrow? We’ll compile notes as we go.” He arched a brow. “You okay with that?” She gave him an impatient look. “I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t.” “Okay. Are your parents okay with you traveling with a strange man for over a week then?” “You’re not serious?” “Perfectly.” Her eyes narrowed. “You going to ravish me?” “The thought has crossed my mind once or twice.” “Odd. You’re not alone in that then.” He laughed. “Are you always so frank?” “I try to be.” She leaned forward. “Brad, I’m getting the distinct feeling that this whole thing is going to get a lot more complicated than either of us first thought.” “Emotionally or investigative wise?” -71-

Anita Whiting

“Both.” “You backing down?” “Absolutely not. I’m just warning you.” “Lady, you’re way too late for that.” He captured one of her hands, pulling her up as he stood. “Way too late.” Just before he leaned down to capture her lips, he told himself he was acting totally out of character. It wasn’t in his nature to move so quickly or act so spontaneously. Yet she stood there, lips slightly parted, her green eyes deep and dark and he had to kiss her. Wasn’t sure he should but that made no difference. Sensations rocketed through him as his lips crushed hers. When he trailed them along her neck, she melted against him, winding her fingers in his thick hair. He was the one who finally pulled away enough to look down at her, shaking his head ruefully. “I’m beginning to think the only way to get you out of my system is to sleep with you.” She arched a delicate brow. “Sleep or have sex?” “Both.” “One doesn’t have to include the other.” He ran a finger along her lower lip. “With us it would.” “Don’t be too sure.” “About the sex?” “About sleeping.” His startled eyes found hers and then he threw his head back and laughed. She eased herself out of his arms. “Let’s shelve that topic for a while and get to the job at hand.” He lifted a brow. “We’ll have to come back to it, you know.”

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“Of course,” she said candidly. “However, neither of us can afford to deal with that right now. Not if we want to find your aunt’s killer.” His expression sobered as he eased into a chair. “Do you have more information?” She nodded, taking a seat as well. “Your lawyer is a slick one. Age 45, married to Anna Steadman of Steadman Jewelers eighteen years ago. The Steadman Jewelers that have shops in some thirty of the fifty states. Parents died in a plane crash right before the marriage and she inherited. Millions as it happens.” “Motive?” She shook her head. “It would have been if there had been a prenuptial agreement. There wasn’t so he had all that lovely money whether she lived or died. Besides, according to the police report, he’s got a rock solid alibi. He was in court the afternoon it happened.” “Any children?” “No, but it wasn’t for lack of trying. She had visited every fertility clinic between here and the Rockies, discreetly of course, with no luck.” Brad frowned thoughtfully. “So it appears our answer doesn’t lie with Mr. Ferron.” “At this point, no. It would be sheer luck if things were that easy.” “How’d you get so much information about something that was obviously kept private?” She rose, taking their cups over to the dishwasher. “Any P.I. worth her salt has sources. I have several reliable ones as it

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happens.” She turned, leaning against the counter. “I’m good at what I do, Brad.” “I know. Your sister told me.” Her lips curved. “Not the most unbiased recommendation.” “No but I believe her.” He stood, flexing his muscles. “You ready to make me work?” “Without a doubt,” she retorted. “Follow me.” By the time everything was piled at the front door, Brad was more confused that ever about who Alex Leahy really was. A rather spectacular unfinished watercolor and an impressive collection of paints rested next to her leather briefcase. A guitar case was propped on top of five thick volumes of criminal law. A full length fur coat and a college football jersey were thrown over the whole collection, side by side. Her jet black cat rubbed against his leg, meowing plaintively. Alex skimmed down the stairs with the last of the suitcases, placing it on the floor and scooping the cat up. He began to purr loudly as she scratched his head. “That’s the lot. Thanks loads, Brad. It would have taken me twice as long to haul all this down.” He eyed the pile. “I hate to break it to you, but I don’t see all of this fitting in either car.” She flashed him a suffering look. “Please credit me with a little intelligence, sir. My parent’s SUV is in the garage. It’ll take the lot in one trip.” With quick efficiency, they soon had everything loaded and Brad found himself sitting beside Alex as she competently maneuvered the big vehicle out of the garage and down the driveway. She glanced at him as she accelerated onto the main road. -74-

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“You’re a rather nice fellow, Bradley Norton.” He sighed heavily. “Don’t tell anyone, will you? It’ll ruin my reputation as a cut-throat businessman.” She shook her head. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” She braked for a stop sign, turning to look at him. “Do you find your chosen career rewarding?” He started to give her a stock answer and then hesitated, sensing the sincerity behind the question. “Yeah, I really do.” When he didn’t continue, she gently prodded. “What made you decide on security?” “Believe it or not, you’re the first person that has asked me that question. The answer might surprise you.” She waited and when he didn’t explain, she continued to prod. “I won’t know that unless you tell me, now will I?” “I thought that was your talent, figuring things like that out.” She turned toward him, raising a brow her gaze searching his. “Very cute. Are you going to tell me or not?” He put his hands up in mock defense. “Okay, okay. I erected a tree house when I was about ten or so, made from things the gardener had given me. It was ramshackle and probably dangerous as hell, but it was mine. It was my refuge. A place to keep the things most valuable to a kid that age. Anyway, I came home from ball practice one day and discovered someone had stolen half my stuff. It wasn’t worth much to anyone but me but it was still my own.” “That’s awful.” “After I got over losing the things, I decided nothing of mine would ever be stolen again if I could help it.”

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“So you developed a security system at the age of ten?” she asked incredulously. “After a fashion. It scared the squirrels, anyway. By the time I was eighteen, I had my first patent. It just went from there.” “I’m impressed.” He glanced out at the driving rain. “Thank you.” He felt her eyes on him, knew he was pulling back but couldn’t help himself. It wasn’t easy for him to open up to anyone least of all the woman sitting next to him. She was too astute, too quick and it made him uncomfortable. “We’re here,” she announced, pulling in front of a huge old century home. His gaze scanned the area. “This is your house?” His company was kept busy protecting houses like these. The neighborhood was old and very, very exclusive. He took his time absorbing the site in front of him. The house was three stories high with a widow’s walk at the very top. The white brick had mellowed to a pleasant cream color and a huge front porch surrounded the house on three sides with windows so tall a man could walk right through them. Wide-seated rockers were set at various angles, affording whoever sat in them a breathtaking view of the water behind. “PI work must pay very well,” he said dryly and then cursed himself for sounding so critical. There was a flash of hurt in her eyes that was quickly replaced by anger. “You of all people should know not to jump to conclusions,” she said, opening the car door and grabbing her briefcase and anything else she could carry, slamming it after her. She marched up the front walk and left him sitting there. -76-

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Now what? He reached in back and gathered what was left in his arms and followed her. Damn it! Only Maggie could find a way to make him feel this guilty. She ignored him, unlocking the ornate wood door and flinging it open. He stepped in out of the rain and was immediately captivated. It was like stepping into another era. The foyer was huge, highlighted by a gracefully curving staircase in rich cherry that wound its way upward. Tall windows flanked each side of the door, allowing light to spill into the area. The ceilings had to be at least twelve or thirteen feet high, complimenting the vibrant rose shade on the walls and the cream crown molding. Oddly enough, amidst the old world charm there was a hint of freshly sawn wood and paint. He set what he was carrying down and spun slowly around “Nice place.” Two spots of color touched her cheeks. “Wasn’t so nice about five years ago. Much of the inside had been destroyed by fire. The owner collected on the insurance and let it sit for a number of years. What you see is a whole lot of hard work. I bought the house cheap and have been remodeling room by room slowly. Most of the downstairs is done and half the upstairs. I’d have the entire thing completed by now, but that rich PI salary for some reason doesn’t stretch like it should.” He shook his head ruefully. “How do you do it?” “Do what?” “Make me feel like such a jerk.” “If the shoe fits…” she began. “You want help with this stuff or not?” he threatened. She laughed, putting a slender hand out. “Truce?”

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He took it, rubbing a thumb along her soft skin. “Until the next time I tick you off? Sure.” “Then let’s get moving,” she said lightly, handing him her guitar while she grabbed a suitcase. When he put the last item away, he leaned against the newel post and took stock. “I have to say I’m impressed, Alex. You’ve taken a shell of a house and made it a home.” He strolled to the mantel in the front room, examining the personal touches that he was beginning to realize were part of her personality. Fat candles sat on the gleaming wood frame along with whimsical statues of dragons and fairies. Antiques paired with the modern. Rich jewel tones covered many of the walls and so did her artwork. “Why aren’t you painting full time?” he asked, examining a particularly stunning seascape. “Because I like to eat,” she shot back. “The term starving artist comes to mind.” “You’re talented, Alex. These would sell.” He could see the uncertainty in her eyes and was surprised by it. Since he had met her, the confidence she exuded didn’t lend itself toward her being shy about anything. The contradiction intrigued him. The doorbell rang just as they were returning to the lower level. Alex opened the door and smiled at the elderly gentleman that stood there. “Mr. Newsome, how are you?” “Can’t complain, my dear.” He handed her a thick pile of letters. “I saw the car and figured maybe you’d want to look through your mail as soon as possible. I was passing right by the house so I thought I’d drop it off.” -78-

A Killer's Agenda

Alex put the letters on the foyer table and hugged him. “That was really nice of you.” She motioned toward Brad. “This is Brad Norton. Brad, Mr. Newsome, the most wonderful neighbor a girl could have. He was nice enough to collect my personal mail while I’ve been gone.” Brad hid a smile as the older man stood a little straighter, blushing slightly as he shook Brad’s hand. “Nice to meet you. If you need anything else, young lady, you know my number.” Alex nodded. “Would you like to come in for a moment?” He shook his head. “Can’t, my dear. Eloise is waiting dinner for me.” He winked at Brad. “Don’t want her to think I’m dallying with the sexy single lady down the street.” He started down the steps. “Remember, call me if you need anything any time, my dear,” he tossed over his shoulder as he reached his car. “I will and thanks again, Mr. Newsome.” She closed the door, laughing as she turned back to Brad. “The man is incorrigible! He’s also a sweetheart.” “He certainly thinks you are.” “You sound surprised,” she said absently, sorting through the mail as she led the way to the kitchen. A frown marred her forehead as she held an envelope up and studied it. “I wonder who this is from. No address, no stamp, nothing but my name. Strange.” She slit the top and removed the single sheet. He saw her expression change. “Problem?” She looked up, holding the paper out to him. “I guess you could say that.”

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He took it, fury rushing through him as he read the typewritten words. MISS LEAHY, A

NOSY

INVESTIGATOR

COULD

END

UP

A

DEAD

INVESTIGATOR. KEEP YOUR CLIENT IN CHARLESTON OR YOU’LL REGRET IT. There was no signature. “What the hell is this about?” “It’s self explanatory, Brad,” Alex said calmly. “We’re making someone nervous.” “Hard to believe, considering we haven’t even started our investigation yet. What makes you so sure this isn’t in regards to another case?” “Because all the cases I have going right now are not the kind of stuff that would illicit a letter like this. Besides we have started. You called Russell Ferron and made an appointment and contacted the police within the last several weeks. I just reopened that can of worms in the past forty-eight hours.” She frowned. “Strange thing is, you would think they wouldn’t want to tip their hand with this note. After all, it just confirms what we suspect. That there is someone behind these murders.” Brad nodded. “You may be right. Then again, maybe he thought a little threat would go a long way. One thing we do know is that whoever left this letter has to be local. That or our initial investigation has someone twitchy enough to fly in just to drop this off.” “Or he had someone in town do it for him.” -80-

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Brad examined the paper again. “This is generic. It’s going to be difficult to trace.” Alex gathered the rest of her mail and walked to the kitchen, depositing it on the table. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to go to the police at this point either. This person is getting information from somewhere and until we know who he or she is, let’s just let them think I’m running scared.” “Somehow, I don’t think your reputation will allow that,” he said dryly. Her lips tilted. “You may be right.” She took the paper from him and put it on the table. “Come on. Let’s return my parent’s car before they get home. I want you to meet them.” He regarded her with arms folded. “You think I can handle the whole family at once?” She laughed, slipping an arm through his. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” “Yeah, but who’s going to protect me from you?” “Now that, my friend,” Alex said, eyes dancing, “is your problem.” Brad caught her before she could step away, spinning her back into his arms. He crushed her lips to his, the kiss long and passionate. When he finally released her, she was out of breath, her cheeks blooming with color. “And that, lady, is the way I deal with sass.” “Then I guess I’ll just have to sass more often,” she said, moistening her lips provocatively. He moved toward her but this time she was ready for him. Ducking, she moved to the front door, opening it.

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“Come on, muscle man. It’s time for a cold shower. Rain shower that is.” “Think it’ll help?” “It sure as hell couldn’t hurt,” she tossed over her shoulder as she ran toward the car.

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Chapter Five “Did you follow instructions?” “Yeah.” There was a brief silence on the other end of the phone. “I don’t like it. Any of it. They’re asking questions they shouldn’t be asking. You didn’t leave any clues?” “I’m not stupid. There were no witnesses.” “You’ve screwed up before.” “How was I supposed to know the bitch would bend down to tie the kid’s shoes at the last minute? Doesn’t matter. Killing the kid served the same purpose.” “It also might have made someone suspicious.” “No way. Worked out even better if the news reports were anything to go by. No one suspected the kid was killed intentionally.” “Then how the hell did they come up with a connection?” “I don’t know and I don’t care. They’ve got nothing.” “I don’t like the attitude, so drop it. Remember I pay for your services. Very, very well.” “Yeah, and you need me. Piss me off and I’ll spill everything to the cops.”

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“And incriminate yourself? I don’t think so. Listen, keep an eye on them. They get too close, you make them victims number seven and eight. Understand?” “Yeah, I understand. Assuming you pay me ten percent more per hit.” “You’re getting greedy.” The voice exploded on the other end. “I don’t like greedy people.” “That a threat?” “Take it as you wish. Just do as I say and you’ll get your damn money.” “I better.” There was no response other than a dial tone. He lit a cigarette as he slowly replaced the phone receiver, drawing deeply, his thin lips curling into a smile. He liked nervous people. They panicked easily. And they usually paid his higher demands the more they panicked. He drew another drag from his cigarette. If he played his cards right, the sucker would be on the blackmail hook for a long time. A very long time. *** It was the kind of morning that made you want to fill your lungs with the clear air, Alex thought as she stowed her suitcase in the back of Brad’s Mercedes. The sun was shining brightly and the temperature was pleasantly cool. She tucked her guitar case in the corner, pleased that there was room for it. They had compromised on the car. Alex had wanted to drive her Mustang but had to admit that Brad’s car was more comfortable for a long trip. She peeked around the open trunk hood, grinning at the picture in front of

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her. Brad stood at the bottom of the steps talking to her father like they had known each other for years. Her father knew how to make a person relax, feel comfortable. He always had. Patrick Leahy wasn’t a tall man, but he had a way of dominating a room. Age had toned the red hair down some, a color she had inherited, but nothing could dim the bright blue eyes and firm handshake. He was a man of strong convictions and great love for his family and anyone he called friend. Her glance slid to her mother. Petite and slender, with the same dark hair and creamy skin as Alicia, she hardly looked like the mother of five. In her quiet way, she managed the entire family without her husband knowing she did so. Eileen wasn’t as demonstrative but every one of her children knew enough not to cross her growing up. It only took one look from those green eyes to stop them dead in their tracks. Hearty

laughter

interrupted

her

thoughts.

Despite

his

trepidation, Brad and her parents had taken to one another almost immediately. Within minutes of their meeting the night before, her father had him in the basement examining the security system. When her mother had offered him a second helping of her homemade apple pie, she knew Brad had passed inspection. She closed the trunk, smiling at the sound of more laughter and glanced at her watch. She started back up the driveway toward the porch. Eileen stood with an arm around Alicia watching while Alan and her father began a spirited discussion with Brad about the Carolina Panther’s chances of reaching the Super Bowl. The only thing missing were her twin brothers, Andrew and Adam who were still out west. Her heart overflowed with love for all of them. -85-

Anita Whiting

Instantly, she realized her thoughts hadn’t excluded Brad. Damn! She had broken her cardinal rule. The not getting involved with your client rule. It totally screwed her objectivity. She had lost that objectivity almost from the first moment she had set eyes on the man. The fact that she had known him less than a week made no difference. Brad turned, as if sensing her thoughts, and motioned for her to join him. “I’m outnumbered here, Alex. Come over and lend some support.” She shook her head as she walked toward them. “If you’re taking sides against the state football team, you’re out of luck.” “That’s my girl,” Patrick said, pulling Alex next to him. “Coward.” Brad grinned, his expression more relaxed than she had ever seen it. “Nope. Just know better than to bet against my family,” she said, standing on tiptoe to give her father a kiss on the cheek. Brad glanced at his watch. “We’d better get a move on or we’ll be late for our appointment.” Eileen gave her daughter a hug. “Be careful, both of you.” “We will, Mom,” Alex said, a sudden lump forming in her throat. Mother’s eyes met daughter’s and the connection was instantly swift and intense. You’re in love with him, honey. He just doesn’t know he’s in love with you. He will. Alex smiled and nodded slightly, giving her father, Alan and Alicia each a hug in turn. Alicia promptly threw her arms around a surprised Brad and squeezed hard. “Nice biceps,” she said, releasing her hold slowly, giving her sister an outrageous wink. “I figured as much.” -86-

A Killer's Agenda

“Alicia!” her mother scolded. “Well, they are,” she protested. Alan pulled his sister away from Brad, holding her against him. “Get away while the going’s good, Brad.” Amid laughter, Alex and Brad made their getaway. “Your sister always that hands on?” Brad asked as he accelerated onto the main road. “From the time she was two. My mother swore she would never teach her to be afraid of strangers. The reality is strangers aren’t sure what to make of her.” She glanced over at him, flashing a smile. “Probably keeps her just as safe.” He merged into traffic, his lips twitching. “I like your family. Even Alicia. What are your twin brothers like?” “You really want to know?” He sighed dramatically. “Yes. I really want to know.” “Okay, you asked for it.” She kept him entertained with amusing stories, passing the time quickly. It was only as they neared Charlotte that she realized she had spent the majority of the trip talking about her family and not his. She was about to mention that fact when she saw his eyes straying to the rear view mirror. “What’s wrong?” His gaze flicked back. “Probably nothing. It just seems like that car has been behind us almost the entire trip. Doesn’t get any closer but doesn’t get any further behind, either.” “Which one?” “Dark green two-door about four cars back.” She turned, focusing, and instantly a barrage of images began to flash in front of her. Her lashes fluttered closed and she allowed -87-

Anita Whiting

them in. “There’s an exit up ahead,” she said quietly, without opening her eyes. “Take it at the last minute.” “What’s going on?” he asked sharply. The man in the green car in back of us, the one you’ve been watching, has a gun. It’s sitting beside him on the seat. He’s following us.” “Are you sure?” “Definitely.” He studied her for a moment and then made his decision. It was early afternoon and luckily they were still far enough on the outskirts of the city for the traffic to be fairly light. There was a truck ahead, a big eighteen-wheeler, and if he planned it just right… “Hold on, Alex. Right now!” He jerked the car abruptly to the right, shooting between another car and the big rig. Dust exploded behind the car as he caught the end of the road and roared onto the exit ramp. He glanced in his rear view mirror again. The green car had sped up, attempting to squeeze between the truck and the guardrail. As his eyes returned to the road in front, he heard the squeal of brakes followed by the truck’s loud horn and the scraping of metal. He risked a look back once again and saw the green car’s front end bent against the rail, tires spinning. “Nice driving, Tex,” Alex quipped, her voice a shade breathless. “Impressive intuition,” he responded. He maneuvered the car into a gas station parking lot and put it out of gear. “You okay?” “Of course. High speeds always get my adrenalin going.” He shook his head. “You amaze me. I never know which Alex Leahy I’m with half the time.” -88-

A Killer's Agenda

“I’m who I am, Brad.” She glanced back, raising a brow. “One thing I’ll say, when you react you really react.” His dark eyes bore into hers. “When I make up my mind about something, I don’t change it.” Their gazes locked. “I know,” she said quietly. “Does your ESP tell you who this guy is or what he looks like?” he asked as he put the car in gear again and eased onto the road. She shook her head. “I don’t have a clue. All I saw was the gun and the fact that the driver was a male.” She sighed. “I can’t control the visions but I can encourage them by surrounding myself with evidence, a scene of a crime, that sort of thing. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.” “Well, from the quick glimpse I got of his car, he won’t be following us in the same vehicle anytime soon.” “Thank you.” “For what?” “For believing.” He regarded her levelly. “I made that decision when I hired you.” “Then I’m glad you’re a man of conviction,” she said lightly. She longed to tell him more, but knew now wasn’t the time. Her family background wasn’t something to be taken lightly. Brad turned his attention back to the road as he swung on the entrance ramp to the freeway. “You know, that little maneuver back there might not stop our man if he knew where we were going.”

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Alex settled back in her seat and nodded. “Then we’ll just have to stay one step ahead of him.” She caught his eye. “At least we know you and your cousin’s instincts were right on.” “About my aunt’s death not being an accident?” “That’s right. Remember the mention of a green car seen at the site of several of the murders?” She motioned backwards. “Green car and gun tells me nothing about those murders was an accident. She thought of that deadly-looking weapon she had visualized on the car seat. “All I know is this guy means business.” “That’s fairly obvious,” he agreed, glancing over at her. “Are you sure you want to continue, Alex? I can hire someone else.” “Are you questioning my capabilities?” she asked tightly. “No, I’m questioning this nasty urge I have to turn this car around and take you back somewhere safe and to hell with the consequences.” She held his gaze for a brief moment and then nodded. “That’s very sweet, Brad, but don’t underestimate your local PI.” She reached in her pretty leather purse and pulled out a delicate but deadly pearl-handled revolver. “I might look defenseless but that’s far from the case.” “You know how to use that?” “I do and have more than once.” She tucked it back in her purse and closed the snap. “I’m not sure whether that makes me feel better or not.” “I don’t play cowboy if that’s what you mean. You would be amazed how angry some men get when they find out I’ve been hired to discover whether they are cheating or not. Especially when they are.” “So you do take those kinds of cases?” -90-

A Killer's Agenda

She shrugged. “I did in the beginning. They paid the bills.” Her eyes flashed. “Not that I have anything against helping a spouse find out whether their partner is playing around on them.” “I didn’t know I would hit a nerve.” “You didn’t. There are just some things I am really passionate about.” He raised a brow. “Some things?” She laughed. “Okay, most things. Just drive, buster.” Within minutes, Brad guided the car off the correct exit ramp and turned toward the middle of the city. Charlotte didn’t have the charm that Charleston had but instead appealed with its tall buildings and modern architecture. It was a city of the times, sophisticated and fast-paced. The streets were lined with tall trees and fall flowers bloomed in various spots along the sidewalks. He parked in front of one of the tall, glass buildings and they took an elegant brass elevator twenty stories up to the office with Russell Ferron, Attorney At Law, on the door. The waiting room was large and spoke of wealth from its thick burgundy carpet and cream walls to the lush leather couches and chairs artfully set around a glass table. The young blonde sitting in front could have graced the front of any number of fashion magazines. Her gaze bypassed Alex and landed squarely on Brad. “May I help you?” she asked, her smile showing perfect white teeth. “We have an appointment with Mr. Ferron.” She glanced down at her desk. “Oh, yes. Mr. Norton, correct?” “That’s correct. This is my associate, Alex Leahy.” She stood, motioning to the chairs behind them. “Please have a seat and I’ll let Mr. Ferron know you are here.” -91-

Anita Whiting

Moments later, she ushered them down a short hall and into an incredibly ornate office. Everything was overdone, including the man behind the desk, Alex thought, extending a hand to shake Russell Ferron’s. Perfect hair, perfect skin, perfectly tailored suit, even perfectly manicured nails. Only his eyes didn’t fit the image. The color was a brilliant blue but there was shiftiness about them Alex didn’t like. “Nice to meet both of you. Please have a seat.” He resumed his own, the leather in his chair creaking as he reclined back. “What a gorgeous view,” she said, looking behind him to the wide expanse of windows. The height softened the pulse of the city, accenting only its beauty. “It is, rather,” Russell said smugly. He eyed Alex from head to toe appreciatively. “I’ve seen a few newspaper pictures of you, Miss Leahy. They didn’t do you justice.” “I could say the same about you, Mr. Ferron,” Alex said as she crossed her legs smiling innocently. “I appreciate your taking the time to see us, Mr. Ferron,” Brad said smoothly. “We just have a few questions that we thought you might be able to help us with.” Ferron’s expression became almost comically sad. “I’ll be happy to give you what information I can about my wife’s tragic death but frankly, Mr. Norton, I fail to see what I can tell you that I haven’t already told the police.” “We were hoping maybe there was something you forgot. Some little detail that might help us identify the killer,” Alex said. Ferron shook his head. “I wasn’t even home at the time. I received the call while I was in court. By the time I arrived on the scene, the police were already there.” -92-

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“How terrible for you,” Alex said, not at all sure that it had been. The man was too smooth, too silky with his answers. “Did you have any idea why your wife was in that section of town that particular day? My understanding was that her interest was primarily in very expensive jewelry. Doesn’t fit with the dirty industrial area where she was found.” Russell Ferron’s eyes darkened, although the amiable smile remained in place. “What’s this really all about? I’ve put up with a ridiculous amount of questions already from every sheriff and wannabe cop from here to the Gulf, not to mention all the media that hounded me for months after my wife’s death. Unfortunately, the final result was that the police concluded Anna was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Fate if you will.” “Not necessarily,” Alex said, watching him closely. “We have reason to believe, Mr. Ferron, that your wife’s death wasn’t as accidental as it appeared.” The smile left his face. “What is that supposed to mean?” “It means, Mr. Ferron, that we think there is a connection between the other drive-by shootings that occurred before and after your wife.” Russell straightened, his brows drawing together. “What other shootings?” “Your wife was only one in a line, at recent count, of six people killed in exactly the same way.” A flicker of something passed across the man’s face before he shook his head emphatically. “That’s ridiculous. Anna was in a bad neighborhood for God knows what reason and paid for it with her life. It was a cruel twist of fate, but I refuse to believe it was

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anything other than that. Besides, if the authorities felt that way I’m sure I would have been told about their suspicions. “We don’t have enough evidence yet for them to become involved,” Alex replied. “That is where you come in, sir.” A diamond glinted on his finger as Ferron waved his hand dispassionately. “If you don’t have enough evidence after almost a year, Miss Leahy, it would seem to me that doing further investigation would simply be a waste of time.” “Perhaps, but it’s our time to waste, isn’t it?” she said calmly. “I guess it is at that. What is it you want to know?” “Did your wife have any enemies? Anyone who might have wanted to kill her and make it look like an accidental shooting? Perhaps someone who lured her downtown with the idea of murdering her?” His brow knitted. “Not to my knowledge.” He passed a hand over his eyes and took a deep breath. “All I know is I wish to God I had been with her. Maybe things would have turned out differently.” “Do you miss your wife, Mr. Ferron?” Alex asked baldly. His eyes snapped to hers. “What the hell kind of question is that? Of course I miss her. She was everything to me.” “And now you have all those millions,” Brad muttered. It took a moment or two for Brad’s words to sink in. When they did, the blue eyes hardened as he stood abruptly. “That’s the end of this discussion, sir. I don’t like your insinuations. For the record, I loved my wife, Mr. Norton. If you are suggesting I had anything to do with her death, you’re way off base. Continue spreading such ridiculous rumors and I’ll sue you

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so fast your head will spin.” He walked to the door and opened it pointedly. “Good afternoon. I’m sure you can find your way out.” Alex put a hand on his arm. “Mr. Ferron, forgive us for being insensitive. Mr. Norton lost his own aunt about six months after your wife in the same manner. The similarities between the two deaths can’t be ignored. If you think of anything that might help us, please call.” She handed him her card and, after a brief hesitation, he took it, glaring at Brad over her head. “You’re damn lucky I like and respect your father, Norton. Otherwise I wouldn’t even consider assisting you with this endeavor.” “I assume, Mr. Ferron, you do want to find your wife’s killer?” Brad asked. “Of course, but I also trust the police implicitly and I suggest you do the same.” Alex jabbed Brad delicately with her elbow, offering Russell her hand. “Thank you for seeing us.” He held it just a little longer than necessary, his blue eyes softening. “You’re welcome, my dear. If you have any further questions, call me. You call me,” he said, scowling at Brad. “I’ll do that, sir,” Alex said, reclaiming her hand. “When hell freezes over,” she muttered to Brad as they closed the door behind them. Brad raised a brow. “So you’re not impressed by Mr. Smooth back there?” Her green eyes snapped. “The man’s slime. Educated, suave, filthy rich and slime.” “Any vibes?”

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She shook her head reluctantly. “I find it hard to meld minds with someone like him. I couldn’t decipher much other than sensing he knows a lot more than he’s telling us. That much I could read. And he didn’t give a damn about his wife. Just her money. He’s having a hot and heavy affair with Miss USA back there and it’s been going on for years.” “Ah… the infamous other woman.” “Yeah,” she said, viciously pushing the elevator button, “a woman at home to keep him in the style he’s accustomed to and the lady at work giving him the sex. Nice set up.” “Most men wouldn’t complain.” She rounded on him as the elevator doors opened. “Why you…” He hushed her with a finger to her lips, pushing her into the empty car. “Just kidding. It’s just hard not to tease you when you get that Irish up.” She tried to give him a dirty look and ended up laughing, patting her auburn curls. “Guess it’s hard to hide my ancestry, isn’t it?” “If the hair didn’t give you away, the temper would.” She pushed the button for the bottom floor. “What temper?” she asked innocently, raising a brow. “The one that goes with those green eyes,” he said brushing a thumb across her cheek. “I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.” “I’ll bet.” He grinned as he followed her into the lobby. “Where to next?” “The police station. I want to read the report and then visit the crime scene.”

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“All right, the police station it is. Got any idea where it’s located?” he asked as he opened the door for her. “About two blocks north of here on the right.” “I see you did your homework.” She shook her head. “Not this time. I’ve been in the city before and what’s even better is I know the chief of police. We’re related, as it happens.” “You’re kidding.” “Nope,” she said flippantly, sliding into the car. “Uncle Brian is a sweetie.” ***

The giant of a man that stood to greet them ten minutes later was the farthest thing from a ‘sweetie’ that Brad could think of. About fifty years old, with gray-winged black hair and a nononsense demeanor and the kind of eyes that could make a grown man cower. Those steel grey eyes softened immediately, however, when he caught sight of the woman standing next to him. “Alex!” he said warmly, coming around the desk to lift her up, spinning her around. “How’s my best girl?” “I’m fine, Uncle Brian,” she said, kissing his cheek then turning in his arms to introduce Brad. The handshake was firm, his gaze scanning him from head to toe. “Name is familiar. Have we met?” “Not that I’m aware of, sir.” “Brad Norton,” he repeated thoughtfully and then his brow suddenly cleared. “My daughter had an alarm system installed last

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year. Lives near Charleston. The company was Norton Securities. You that Norton?” Brad glanced at Alex, not exactly sure where the conversation was going. “Yes sir, I own a security business in Charleston.” The gray eyes warmed a few more degrees. “Nice unit you put in. I inspected it myself.” “That’s our goal. To be the best of the best.” He motioned for both of them to sit, glancing at Alex. “You know how stubborn Maureen is, Alex.” His gaze flipped back toward Brad. “My daughter is into renovation big time. This is the second old house she’s bought with plans to restore it. Great idea. Problem is, it’s not in the best of neighborhoods. Now, with a dog and a quality alarm system, at least I have some semblance of piece of mind.” Alex leaned over to pat her uncle’s hand, glancing at Brad. “Not to mention the fact that she has a black belt in judo and handles a gun like an expert. If I were any robber, I’d be afraid, very afraid.” Brian laughed, easing back in his chair. “She always was a sassy one,” he muttered aside to Brad. “So I’ve noticed,” Brad muttered back, relaxing. Alex’s lips twitched. “Just what I need, the dreaded male bonding.” “It’s a survival thing,” her uncle said, winking at Brad. “Okay, if you two are done, let’s get down to business. Uncle Brian, what do you know about the Ferron murder?” Her uncle immediately sobered, gray eyes hardening. “I know it wasn’t what it appeared to be, if that’s what you’re asking.” “Why do you say that?” Alex asked, catching Brad’s eye.

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He uncle stood and walked over to a file cabinet, pulling a folder out and tossing it on the desk. “This one still irks me. Prominent woman, well-liked, with no reason to be deep in the factory district after business hours. No robberies reported, no gangs in the area, nothing that would indicate she was the victim of a stray bullet.” “So what do you think happened?” Alex asked. “I think it was a hit.” She smiled grimly. “We’ve come to the same conclusion.” Her uncle looked at her in surprise. “What do you know about Anna Ferron?” “Not a lot. That’s why we’re here.” Her uncle leaned against the filing cabinet, crossing his massive arms. “Want to tell me why you’re interested in a murder that happened miles from your home almost a year ago?” “My aunt was killed in the same way not more than six months later in a suburb of Charleston,” Brian said. “And, like you, we don’t think the reason for her death was as cut and dried as it appeared.” “Ellie Lloyd. I remember the case. You have my sympathy, for what it’s worth,” he finished quietly. Brad was touched at the sincerity he saw in the man’s gaze. “Thank you.” “You think the two cases are related?” “We think the six cases are related,” Alex said. Brian raised an eyebrow, pulling his chair out and sitting once again. “What six cases?”

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When Alex was finished, her uncle just sat with hands folded for a moment. “Other than that all of them were killed by a driveby, what else do you have?” “Not much,” she said. “However, right before we left, one of my contacts discovered something very interesting. Anna Ferron met with several well-known divorce attorneys about a month before she was killed. Even went so far as to begin proceedings.” “Did you find out what grounds she was suing for?” She shook her head. “No but I will, believe me. Just his multiple affairs would be grounds enough in my mind.” “I gather you couldn’t convince the local authorities of any connection?” he asked Brad. “Not with what we have at present.” “Then what makes you think there is more?” Brad weighed his answer, liking the steady gaze of the older man. “Because I’ve got this gut feeling that my aunt was killed for a reason that is much more sinister than an accidental shooting. Like the Ferron woman, she was murdered with one bullet, perfectly placed.” He paused, fighting the familiar emotion. “One death like that maybe, two, suspect, and more than that tells me there’s a killer on the loose.” “You feel the same way?” Brian asked Alex. “I do.” He leaned back in his chair, nodding. “I like people with convictions. As it happens, I think you’re on the right track.” “Uncle Brian, is there anything that you discovered during your investigation that might give us any clues that this isn’t what it seemed?”

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He opened the folder in front of him. “Here’s what we’ve got and it isn’t much. Anna Steadman Ferron, victim. Age forty-two. Only child of the very wealthy Ronald and Cheryl Steadman, deceased. Worth on the order of two-hundred-fifty million dollars, give or take some change. Ran the business with an iron-in-velvet glove. Wellliked by her employees, active in local charities and politics.” The picture he placed in front of them was of an attractive brunette with a pleasant smile and a chic kind of look that said money. “Any enemies?” Alex asked, picking up the photograph. “Not that we could find.” “What about Russell Ferron?” Brad asked. “He is a different story,” Brian said dryly. “Loves to flaunt his wealth. Fancy cars and suits, first class restaurants and hotels. We

investigated

him

thoroughly.

Didn’t

find

anything.

No

prenuptial agreement, so money wasn’t a motive. Had a few affairs that his wife apparently knew nothing of and there were plenty of people who didn’t like him. We interviewed several family members who said the marriage wasn’t all wine and roses, no matter how Mrs. Ferron strived to make it appear so.” “Why?” Brian flicked through some papers in the file and pulled one out, handing it to Brad. “That’s a list of people who overheard the couple, on several occasions, argue loudly. Not one of them could give us the gist of what they were arguing about, however.” Alex glanced at the list in Brad’s hand and shook her head. “Unfortunately, Uncle Brian, couples argue all the time.” “Not at black tie affairs. As in plural. Apparently Anna Steadman Ferron wasn’t the type to air dirty laundry in public, so it stuck in their minds.” -101-

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“Could be she discovered his affair or affairs and called him on it,” Alex said thoughtfully. “People go to those parties to trade gossip, especially in the tier of society they mingled with.” “According to the people we interviewed, they appeared to be the perfect married couple until about six months before her death. That’s when the arguments started.” “How did Ferron act when the police interviewed him?” “Put on a very good act, playing the grieving husband complete with tears.” “Why do you think it was an act?” Alex asked. “Because I had him followed. According to our investigation, he went

directly

to

his

little

receptionist’s

apartment—a

very

expensive apartment, I might add—and didn’t surface until the next afternoon. Ordered dinner and champagne from room service, according to my detective.” “Drowned his grief in sex and booze,” Alex said dryly. “Or celebrated ridding himself of a problem,” her uncle said succinctly. “Did you subpoena his banking records?” “We did. Nothing we could find that indicated a payoff, but then again it’s easy to hide cash expenditure when you’re loaded like our Mr. Ferron is.” “Anyone witness the shooting?” Brad asked. Brian shook his head. “There were a few people who came forward saying they were working late and heard the gunshot, but no one saw anything.” “How about phone records?” Alex asked. “Anyone call her close to the time she was shot?”

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“We examined home as well as cell phone records. She was killed around seven p.m. We identified every one of the callers for two hours before as well as those who left messages on her cell phone afterwards. None raised a red flag.” “If money wasn’t the motive then what was?” “That’s the million dollar question, honey. Without that answer, the woman’s death appears to be just what the investigation was forced to say it was.” Alex stood, pacing. “There’s something we’re missing. A connection that has nothing to do with what we’ve discovered thus far. I feel it.” Brian exchanged looks with Brad. “Define feel.” She stopped pacing, picking up the folder. “Someone on this list has the clue we need. He or she just doesn’t know it yet.” She glanced at her uncle. “Can I have a copy of this?” He nodded, taking it over to the machine, glancing at Brad as he waited. “You know about her clairvoyance?” “He knows,” Alex said, taking the copy he handed her. “Good. Listen to her.” “I intend to,” Brad said, rising as well and offering his hand. “Smart man,” the chief said, shaking it firmly. “Mix a Delaney with a Leahy and you’ve got some powerful magic. Wish I had inherited more.” He grimaced, putting the Steadman file back in the cabinet. Brad’s eyes narrowed. “Powerful what?” Brian quickly glanced at Alex, catching the slight shake of her head. “Come on, Brad. I want to see the murder scene before it gets dark. Uncle Brian, can you give us directions?” -103-

Anita Whiting

He nodded, jotting them down on a piece of paper and handing it to her. “The victim was found in her car directly in front of the steel supply company at that address.” He frowned. “Watch yourselves. If this was a hit as I suspect, there’s someone out there that isn’t going to be too happy about you poking around.” “We will,” Alex said, tucking the paper in her purse. “Besides, that’s already been made perfectly clear on the way down here. We were followed.” Her uncle raised a brow. “You sure?” “Positive. We managed to lose him but that only makes what we believe even more credible. You have my cell and office phone numbers, Uncle Brian. Anything you find that might help us please call me.” “Sure will, honey.” She reached up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek and he wrapped her in a bear hug. “You be careful, you hear me! Tell your family I’ll be in touch soon.” “I will.” Alex opened her purse and pulled the directions out as Brad held the door open for her. Together they walked into the sunshine. Alex slid into the car, studying the map. “You need to take the next road on the right according to this,” she said. When he didn’t respond, she glanced over at him and found him staring at her. “What?” He shifted in his seat, meeting her gaze squarely. “Powerful magic?” She should have known he wouldn’t let that comment go, she thought. “You sure you want to hear the explanation?” she asked candidly. -104-

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His eyes narrowed. “Why?” “Because you’re not one to believe in things that aren’t in black and white.” “I’ll keep an open mind.” A horn sounded behind them and Brad put the car in gear, pulling into the street and around the corner to a fast food restaurant. “Feel like a cup of coffee?” Glancing at the setting sun, she nodded. “Sure, as long as we don’t take too long.” Moments later they were settled in a booth toward the back. Alex took a sip of her coffee and then tilted her head at Brad, contemplating the best way to start. “Do you believe in magic, Brad?” He didn’t hurry his answer. “No, at least not in the way I think you mean. As you said, I deal in the day-to-day stark reality of life. That’s what I do. Protect people from the bad men and women surrounding them. Nothing magical in that.” She shook her head sadly. “You don’t know what I’m actually asking, do you?” “I thought I did. Why don’t you explain it?” “All right, I’ll try. My ancestry comes from Ireland on both sides.” She smiled, fingering a red curl. “Magic is as much a part of my background as living and breathing. You’ve read it in the literature and seen the movies. You know, leprechauns, pots of gold at the end of the rainbow, and banshees. Things we love to speculate about, set aside a day to celebrate. Yet, folklore always has some basis, some reason for being.” “You’re not going to tell me that there really are little men running around Ireland, are you?” -105-

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“I’ve never seen one but that doesn’t mean that they don’t exist.” “Come on, Alex. You’re kidding right?” “Actually I’m not, but I refuse to discuss that right now. I have a feeling if I did you and I would end up fighting.” She took another sip of her coffee to calm her temper and then slid her gaze back to his. “Uncle Brian is right. When my mother and father married, their combined backgrounds served to heighten the gene pool. My sister and brother, as a result, have varying degrees of, shall we say, magic.” “What kind of magic?” “I’m clairvoyant and I also have the power to heal. Alan has the ability to move objects and Alicia is remarkably adept at sending mental suggestions. Unfortunately, my twin brothers didn’t inherit any powers. My father says that was because they split the genes at birth and rendered them inactive.” “Alex, do you know how hard it is to believe all this? Psychics are one thing, but magic?” He shook his head. “I don’t know.” She sighed. “I guess if I were in your position, it would seem somewhat implausible. But it isn’t, Brad. Uncle Brian knows it and so do the rest of my relatives.” She stood, tossing her coffee cup into a nearby trash can. “Right now, it doesn’t really matter. We’ve got more important things to worry about, like visiting that crime scene while it’s still light.” He stood as well, obviously uncomfortable with what she had just told him. That, she could understand. However, the cynicism she sensed underneath made her blood boil. “Nothing is impossible if you are open-minded, Brad,” she said through clenched teeth. “I’m just not sure you’re capable of that.” -106-

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She walked out the door, leaving him standing there with his cup still in his hand. He tossed it viciously in the garbage and strode after her, reaching her just as she opened the car door. He spun her around. “Listen, lady, you don’t know what I’m capable of. Hell, you don’t even know me. You give me some cock-and-bull story about magic and gene pools and I’m supposed to just accept it at face value?” “I don’t give a damn what you accept,” she snapped. “I don’t lie and if you have a problem with that, then so be it. Now get in the damn car and drive.” She slammed the door so hard the windows shook. After a moment, he strode angrily around to the other side. Sliding in, he flicked the ignition. Shifting into gear, he tore out of the parking lot. “Unless you want to add a ticket to your traveling expenses, I suggest you slow down,” she said through clenched teeth. Grimly silent, he let the speedometer fall to a more reasonable speed. Damn the woman! He should have known better than to hire her. He’d get Kevin for this. “Turn right here.” He glanced at the car clock. Six forty-five. Right about the time of the murder. Most of the factories would be empty by now or down to their second shift. Traffic was fairly light and he slowed when he saw the steel company the chief had mentioned. “Stop,” Alex said, her hand already on the handle of the door. He pulled over and turned the car off but stayed seated, just watching. Alex moved around the car and stood next to it, closing her eyes. She stayed that way for a long while, apparently oblivious -107-

Anita Whiting

to the occasional passing car and city noise surrounding her. Finally she opened her eyes and slowly walked forward a few feet, turning in a circle. Long moments later she made her way back, opening the door and slipping inside once again. The anger had disappeared from her eyes and was replaced by an almost haunting sadness. “She was supposed to meet someone here. She was looking forward to a big sale.” She turned to stare blankly out the window. “She stopped her car at almost exactly this spot and waited. Waited and suddenly felt uneasy. She had started the car again and had begun to accelerate when the bullet hit her. The car hit a pole and stopped. That’s why the police suspected a drive-by shooting. Death was instantaneous.” She was pale and he reached for her hand, surprised at how cold it was. “You okay?” She nodded. “Yeah, as okay as I can be.” She shivered. “There was no warning, no one who approached her.” Her gaze flickered to the left. “The gun was fired from that parking lot. I saw the same green car that followed us today.” “Are you sure?” She smiled grimly. “Oh, I’m sure.” “Anything else?” She shook her head. “Only that while she waited, she wondered if her husband would be late again.” She finally met his gaze. “She knew about the affairs, chose to ignore them. She wasn’t thinking about that though. There was something else, something that made her so angry that his infidelity was pushed aside…” “You mentioned she was hoping to make a big sale.” He flipped the copy of the file open and after a minute pulled out a paper, -108-

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scanning it. “Items found in the car are listed here. There’s no mention of any jewelry other than what the victim was wearing being found. I guess robbery could have been a motive.” “No, it wasn’t.” She was silent again, allowing herself to relive the scene once more. She sensed the woman’s impatience at being kept waiting. She saw her tap her fingers on the steering wheel and then open her purse and pull out a small black velvet box. The ring caught the evening light, sparkling. Alex narrowed her vision, focused closer. It was a man’s ring with a black stone in the middle surrounded by an intricate design of diamonds. So many diamonds that it looked almost fake. A showy and very gaudy piece. She could feel the distaste as Anna gazed at it. “She brought a ring with her and she was thinking it was exactly what her customer had wanted. A man’s ring with a black stone and a ring of diamonds. Kind of gaudy and obviously very expensive. She doesn’t like the look of it but can’t resist the sale. He knew she would be there because he had arranged to meet her.” She looked up at Brad. “I got inside her head for a moment. She wasn’t greedy but that ring was worth a lot of money. He made demands. Told her the ring was a gift for a retiring executive and he needed it for his party that night. Asked her to meet him as a favor.” “A set up?” She nodded. “She sensed it right before she died.” She lifted her eyes to his. “I felt her fear, felt the white hot flash of pain as that bullet struck her. Someone wanted her dead for a reason.” “No idea what our gunman looks like?” She shook her head. “I’ve got vague images. A man, about six feet tall, blond and big. He stays on the periphery of my vision.” -109-

Anita Whiting

“Damn!” Her lips curved slightly. “Oh, so now you believe in my powers?” “Listen, Alex, I’m sorry. You’re right. I accuse you of telling me fairy tales in one breath then in the next I’m pushing you to use those same powers I ridiculed. It’s just that I’ve never met anyone like you.” He glanced out the window. “I was always taught not to believe in those little green men or the tooth fairy or Santa Claus. Silly nonsense, my father used to say. You shoot that theory to hell.” “What a lost little boy you must have been,” she said sadly. He fought the urge to pull back. “Not lost exactly, just very serious and intense. Maggie, our cook and housekeeper, kind of balanced things out, though.” His gaze swept over her. “She would love you.” “Then I’ll have to meet her. Soon,” she said, squeezing his fingers. He scanned the area around the car again. The sun was low in the sky, throwing the street into shadows from the buildings. His glance slid to the car clock. Five to seven. His eyes narrowed in thought. “Perfect time of night for an ambush. The sun would blind her sitting here while he would have a perfect shot from that parking lot.” Alex nodded. “Good planning. This guy is no amateur.” She reached behind the seat and pulled her briefcase onto her lap, searching until she found what she was looking for. “Anna had a best friend who lives about ten miles south of here. Name of Donna Trent. Maybe she would see us this evening,” she said, flipping her cell phone open and dialing the phone number. -110-

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After a few moments she circled her thumb and forefinger toward Brad who was listening to the one sided conversation. She disconnected the call and tucked the phone back in her purse. “She wasn’t overly thrilled, but agreed to meet with us. The house shouldn’t be too hard to find from the directions she gave me.” It wasn’t, and about fifteen minutes later they pulled into the driveway of a modest ranch. Brad had to dodge several bikes as well as a pair of roller skates as he rolled to a stop. “Not exactly the stately mansion I envisioned,” he said dryly. A tow-headed boy tore out the front door before Alex could answer. He screeched to a halt just as she opened the car door. “Mom said you can come in,” he said, lisping around his missing two front teeth. “She’s changing Mallory, my sister.” He rolled his eyes. “Boy, did she stink! Mom had to give her a bath. I’m Scott and I’m almost ten. Mom said I could tell you my name but not to get in the car with you or anything.” Alex’s eyes danced as she caught Brad’s gaze. “Thank you.” She crouched down, running a hand along the shiny red bike lying on the ground. “Is this yours?” “Yeah. Got it for my birthday last week. It’s a trick bike.” “I know. Bought one for myself last year.” His jaw dropped open. “Nah ah. You’re a grown up.” She grinned. “Don’t tell anyone,” she whispered loudly. He tilted his chin, eyeing her. “You know any tricks?” “A few.” “Show me.” Brad leaned against the car grill, smiling as he watched.

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She swung her leg over the bike. “Remember, I normally wear a helmet to do these things and you should too.” His young face mirrored his disgust. “Yeah, yeah. I hear that all the time. Dumb thing is in the garage.” Alex bit her lip. “If you promise to wear it all the time, I’ll show you a few tricks that will impress your friends. Deal?” He nodded energetically, sidling close to her. “If you want to spin the front wheel, here’s what you hold. Then you…” Ten minutes later, Scott was happily whizzing back and forth along the sidewalk, showing his new prowess off to several of his friends, the maligned helmet firmly on his head. Brad shook his head, looking down at Alex. “You’ve made a friend for life.” His gaze drifted to the boy again. “Don’t tell me you really have one of those bikes?” “I certainly do. They’re great fun.” Her eyes moved up and then down his tall frame. “Of course, they’re not made for someone oversized like you.” “Miss Leahy,” a voice said from behind them. They both turned. A slender, blonde woman was standing in the doorway, a baby in her arms. Scott streaked past. “Hey, Mom. Watch me!” He did a neat turn and flew over the curb, spinning the front wheel at the same time. “Isn’t that cool?” The woman smiled. “What’s even cooler is that you’re wearing your helmet.” His smiled dimmed just a little. “Alex told me I had to put it on before she showed me this stuff. I had to promise to wear it all the time, darn it!” -112-

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“Alex?” his mother said disapprovingly. “She said to call her that,” he panted over his shoulder as he made another run. Laughing, the woman motioned for them to come inside. “Well, Alex, you certainly have an admirer.” “Mrs. Trent,” Alex said following her into the front room, “this is Brad Norton.” “Donna, please,” she said, smiling. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to put the baby to bed. I won’t be a moment.” Alex couldn’t resist touching the soft skin of the child’s arm and was rewarded with a sleepy smile. She had just settled next to Brad on the couch when Donna returned. “Can I get either of you anything?” she asked graciously. When they shook their heads, she curled into the loveseat across from them. “To be honest, I wasn’t looking forward to talking with you. However,” she glanced out the window, her lips twitching, “anyone who can succeed in convincing my son to wear ‘that dumb helmet’ has my undying gratitude.” “He’s a cute kid,” Alex said, following her gaze. “He has his moments.” “We’re sorry to visit so late in the evening, Donna,” Brad said. “We just have a few questions that we thought you might be able to answer.” She shook her head. “I can’t imagine there is anything I can tell you that I haven’t already told the police. Over and over,” she finished dryly. “I’ve been told you and Anna Ferron were close friends,” Alex said, relaxing against the back of the couch.

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“We were. She needed someone to talk to and I was happy to oblige.” “She didn’t have other friends?” “Depends on what you define as friends. Sometimes being wealthy isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. It’s hard to filter out true friends from those who want to use you for whatever reason.” “And there are always those people out there,” Brad said quietly. “Aren’t there?” Alex tossed him a quick look. “How did the two of you meet?” The other woman hesitated, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Forgive me for being somewhat rude, but what exactly are you two investigating? Anna’s been gone for a long while. The police did their job and her death was ruled an accidental shooting. What do you hope to find now? “Do you think your friend was murdered, Donna?” Brad asked bluntly. She crossed her legs and eyed him silently for a moment, lifting a brow. “Why? Do you think she was?” “Yes,” Alex answered for Brad. “We do.” She sighed. “Finally, someone who is willing to believe what I have all along.” “So you do think her death wasn’t as it looked?” She shook her head. “You asked me how I met Anna, Alex. Believe it or not, we crossed paths at a fertility clinic downtown.” She glanced out the window again. “After Scott was born, I couldn’t get pregnant again for some reason. My husband and I wanted more children so I sought medical advice. Anna desperately wanted a baby as well. We spent long lunches talking about the subject. She felt incredibly guilty that she had let her career and her -114-

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responsibilities stop her from starting a family earlier. When she finally attempted to get pregnant for the first time, she was thirtyfour. She didn’t think there would be a problem and when there was she could hear that infamous biological clock ticking as each year went by. I didn’t even tell her I was pregnant with my daughter because I couldn’t face the disappointment I would certainly have seen in her eyes.” “Had you met her husband as well?” There was a flash of anger in the other woman’s eyes. “No, and I wish to God I had. I’d like to have given him a piece of my mind.” “Why is that?” Brad asked. “Because it’s hard to do a successful fertility workup when the man won’t cooperate. Russell Ferron is a conceited jerk. He refused to believe that the reason Anna couldn’t become pregnant had anything to do with him. Refused to be tested at all. It practically broke her heart.” “Do you think he had anything to do with her death?” “I considered that thought right after I heard the news. However, I don’t think he cared enough to bother. I know that sounds callous but that’s how I feel. What I do know is that Anna was a wonderful person and she didn’t deserve being married to someone who used her the way that man did.” “In what way?” “I know the signs of a woman who thinks her husband is having an affair.” She put a hand up. “She never said anything directly but I could see the hurt and worry in her eyes. He used her in the most despicable way a man can use a woman. For her money. We have mutual friends and I heard the rumors. Her

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husband flaunted his wealth and, from what more than one of my friends said, used it to pick up whatever hot number he fancied. “Did you ever say anything to her?” Alex asked. “I couldn’t. She was so much in love with the creep and I didn’t want to be the one who broke her marriage up.” She grimaced. “Maybe if I had she’d still be here.” “I thought you didn’t believe her husband was involved with her murder?” “I don’t. But maybe she would have moved away. Been somewhere else.” “Do you have any idea why she was in that particular part of town the day she was killed?” Donna shook her head. “She was pretty independent when it came to her career. Maybe someone wanted to see a piece of jewelry or something. What doesn’t make sense is that she didn’t take an associate with her. She was methodical and a very good business woman. She told me more than once that she never took risks when it came to transporting her jewelry. Meeting some buyer downtown by herself at dusk just wasn’t her style.” “Even if the piece of jewelry was very, very expensive?” Donna shrugged. “Who knows? She was first and foremost a savvy businesswoman so I guess it’s possible.” “When was the last time you saw her?” “We met for lunch a few days before.” She turned suddenly troubled eyes to Alex. “You know, come to think of it, Anna wasn’t herself that day.” “In what way?” “She was ticked. It showed in her expression and, even though we had a nice visit, she was distracted. Several times I had to -116-

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repeat a question. Finally, I just came right out and asked her what was wrong. She hesitated and then told me she’d discovered something that, if it were true, would destroy what was left of her marriage. She wouldn’t tell me anything more than that.” “Maybe she finally found proof of his affairs,” Brad said. “It’s entirely possible. Seems everyone else but her knew anyway.” “What makes you think she was murdered then?” “For a number of reasons. First, as I said, she wasn’t the type of person to drive around without a specific reason, especially in that part of town. Secondly, I know she had an appointment with an in vitro specialist downtown at six-thirty that particular evening. There was no way she would have missed that. She had even made special arrangements so she could make it there after business hours.” She raised troubled eyes to them. “It had to have been something really big to have prevented her from going to that appointment.” “Like the sale of a very expensive ring?” Alex asked. Donna nodded. “You have to understand, she felt a huge responsibility toward the business her parents left her. She was only twenty-three when they died and just out of college.” Her blue eyes hardened. “I think that’s one of the reasons she married Ferron. She told me she was so lost without her parents and was so confused with all the relatives that immediately came out of the woodwork looking for money. Russell was a few years ahead of her at college and they already had started dating when her parents were killed. I don’t doubt he took advantage of her vulnerability and made sure he was available when she needed a shoulder to cry on. She fell for him hard and fast. Although I haven’t met him -117-

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personally, I know the type. Smooth, fast talker, passable looks. He saw a chance to make himself a millionaire and he took it.” “She tell you that?” “She didn’t have to. She invited me to a couple of those fancy affairs she had to attend and I heard the gossip. Especially when both times her husband failed to return from out of town to escort her like he promised.” Brad straightened, catching Alex’s eye. “Did you tell the police this?” “I did but they weren’t impressed.” “I could check tomorrow to see if she changed her fertility appointment to an earlier time that day,” Alex said. “You don’t have to. She didn’t. I checked. She cancelled at the last minute. The receptionist said she remembers how upset Anna was on the phone.” “What excuse did she give for canceling?” “She said something extremely important came up. Something she couldn’t put off.” “Sounds like you did your own investigating,” Brad said. “I had to. Something didn’t feel right then and it still doesn’t. Whoever she was meeting murdered her. I’m sure of it.” Brad nodded, his dark eyes focusing on her. “Sometimes our initial impressions are the right ones.” Alex caught the exchange of glances and hid a smile as a faint blush colored the other woman’s cheeks. No woman could be entirely immune to Brad Norton’s charm or those incredibly sexy eyes.

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The front door flew open just then, startling all of them, and Scott ran in, his cheeks flushed. “Mom, come out and see the ramp Kyle and I fixed up. It’s great!” “I think that’s our cue to exit,” Alex said lightly, offering her hand to the other woman. “Thank you for taking the time to speak with us, Donna. If you think of anything more, please call me at either number,” she finished, handing her a business card. “I will.” Alex reached down to tap the helmet still on the boy’s head. “Remember our deal.” He nodded, frowning. “Yeah, I promise to wear my helmet,” he muttered, spoiling the effect by grinning. “Especially if you could show me a few more of those moves.” “Scott!” his mother admonished. “I can give you five more minutes if that’s okay with your mom,” Alex said, glancing up. “Not a minute more, young man,” his mother said, fighting not to smile. “You’re father should be home any time now.” “Great!” It was more like fifteen minutes before they were in the car, a grateful Scott waving at them enthusiastically. Brad ran an arm along the back of the seat and tugged on a silken curl. “Let me know when you’re in grown-up mode again.” She glanced back, waving once more. “I don’t know when I’ve had so much fun. Every once in a while, don’t you wish you could relive that time in your life? No worries, no responsibilities, just riding your bike and feeling the chill of the air on your face.” “Not particularly.” She tossed him a quick look. “Bad memories?” -119-

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“Not really. Just no good ones.” “You going to tell me about them?” “Maybe. Someday.” “All right, I’ll change the subject.” She tossed him a look. “I think Anna’s friend is on the right track.” “Vibes?” “No, just intuition.” Brad braked at a stop light and turned to her. “I think Russell Ferron is involved somehow in his wife’s death, but for the life of me I can’t figure out the motive. No prenup, having affairs apparently at will, successful because of his wife’s wealth. On top of that, even if he was the mastermind behind her death, how do we link him to the others?” She shrugged. “That’s what we have to find out. I’ll send feelers out via some of my contacts. Meanwhile, I think the best thing we can do right now is continue with our plan.” “Next stop Virginia?” She nodded. “I’ve got names and addresses of those two boys that were killed. Both mothers have agreed to meet with us.” Brad glanced at his watch. “It’s too late to travel that distance tonight. How about we find somewhere to spend the night and head out in the morning?” “Good idea. If memory serves, there’s a hotel ahead about two miles on the right. I’ve stayed there once or twice when we were visiting my uncle.” She glanced at her watch. “It’s a shame we don’t have more time or I’d suggest we visit Aunt Kathy and Uncle Brian. Problem is, if we do I’m sure they’ll insist we stay with them.” She eyed him, a smile teasing her lips. “I’ve got a feeling you might not be comfortable with that.” -120-

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He shrugged, glancing her way. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe we could continue that male bonding you detest so much.” “No way. Find the hotel,” she said, laughing. A few minutes later they were both walking into the lobby. “May I help you, sir?” the desk clerk asked respectfully. “I’d like a room for the night. Non-smoking with two double beds.” The young man nodded. “No problem. Just sign the registry and I’ll get your key.” He pushed several pieces of paper across the desk and walked toward the back wall. Alex arched a brow. “Two double beds?” He raised his gaze to hers. “Don’t argue with me on this, Alex. I don’t feel comfortable with you in another room right now no matter how proficient you are with that gun. Remember our friend on the road back there knows my car and license plates.” Alex waited until Brad finished filling out the forms and pocketed the key. She tucked her arm in his as they opened the glass doors and headed toward the car again. “I wasn’t going to argue about the room, just the beds.” He opened the trunk and pulled out both suitcases. “Now what’s that suppose to mean?” She grabbed hers before he could and began walking, her eyes narrowed as she looked for the room number. “I just thought it would be more comfortable if you just got one king,” she tossed over her shoulder. “After all, there’s no point in having two beds if we’re only going to use one.” He simply stood there for a few moments, just watching her walk away. Then he grabbed his own suitcase and strode toward her. -121-

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She waited until he was beside her, then tilted her chin, waiting for the reaction she knew was coming. “Are you propositioning me?” “I thought we’d gone past that,” she said, eyes steady and direct. “Past what?” “Past the artifice.” She picked the key neatly from his hand and opened the door. The room was generic, like most hotel rooms, clean and functional. She flipped her suitcase onto the bed and stretched. He caught her arms as they came down, wrapping them around his neck She looked up at him. “I think it’s your move.” She had just a moment to see the purpose in his eyes before he lowered his head. This was no gentle kiss, nor did she want gentle. She moved closer, her hands wandering over his broad shoulders and thick hair as he plundered her mouth. He lifted his lips fractionally from hers, a smile tugging at the corner. “Is that sufficiently past the artifice?” She lifted a finger to trace his jaw, feeling the stubble of whiskers that darkened it. “It’s a start.” She eased herself out of his arms and opened her suitcase. “I call the bathroom first.” She flicked open her suitcase and disappeared. He shook his head as he unpacked. She had him totally off balance and he found himself wanting her more than ever. Wanting to continue digging into what made her tick. He smiled wryly. It was a good bet it would take a lifetime to figure that one out. He wandered to the door and made sure the lock and deadbolt were secure, his thoughts turning to the events of the day. Donna -122-

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Trent felt the same way about her friend’s death as he felt about his aunt’s. Somehow that made everything more real, even more urgent. He walked back to the bed and reached inside his duffle bag, his fingers finding the hard metal of his gun. He didn’t need to pull it out to confirm it was loaded, the safety securely in place. He flipped open his cell phone and checked in with Peter, who assured him everything was fine. Just as he disconnected the call, the bathroom door opened. Immediately the room was enveloped with the fresh scent of jasmine as Alex walked out toweling her long hair. He hid a smile, shaking his head. Obviously Alex’s idea of seduction didn’t include sexy clothing and makeup. She had on a button down nightshirt that went past her knees and her face was freshly scrubbed, nose shining. She tossed the towel on the sink and flung her hair back. It settled in a curly mass around her shoulders as she grinned up at him. “Your turn.” His gaze slid from her fragrant curls downward, taking in the hint of cleavage beneath the simple cotton of the shirt. Suddenly he couldn’t think of anything sexier. “My turn can wait,” he murmured, walking toward her. She closed her eyes as he pulled her into his arms, caressing her neck with gentle fingers. He smiled slightly when his thumb ran over the pulse at the base of her throat. “Kind of fast, isn’t it?” Her eyes flew open. “Oh yeah? Want to see how fast I can make yours race?” He didn’t have a chance to respond before she wrapped her arms around his neck. Reaching up, she pressed her lips to his. He could smell her shampoo, the subtle fragrance of her skin as she -123-

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ran her hands along his back, her fingers caressing and exciting. Her breasts were pressed against his chest, erect nipples taunting him as she continued her exploration. When she ventured lower, he captured her fingers in his and backed away, breathing hard and fast. “Okay, I surrender. You win, big time.” She smiled, reaching for him again but he shook his head, keeping her at a safe distance, his eyes boring into hers. “You sure you’re ready for this, Alex?” She stilled. “Ready for what, Brad?” “What this will do to our relationship.” “Having sex?” “No. Making love. There’s a difference.” “Is there?” she said, meeting his eyes candidly. “You know damn well there is,” he growled. “Show me,” she invited. There was only so much a man could take, he thought. Only so much he could resist. Without another word he pressed her against the bed and bent his head. Alex moaned as he nipped and kissed the curve of her cheek, her earlobes and the soft nape of her neck. His hands were busy unbuttoning her nightshirt, replacing the material with his lips, breathing in the heat and musk of her skin. “God, you’re beautiful!” She smiled, slender arms reaching up to pull him on top of her. “And you’ve got too many clothes on,” she complained. He groaned as she began a heated trail of her own, paying little attention to the buttons she impatiently let fly as she pulled his shirt off of him.

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She paused, her voice husky. “You’re rather beautiful yourself, Bradley Norton.” While she pulled impatiently at the rest of his clothes, his lips found the rosy tips of her breasts and he feasted on first one, then the other. She arched against him, her hands fisting in his dark hair. He ventured lower to the soft skin of her belly, licking and kissing, feeling her quivering beneath him. She went wild as his tongue found the tender skin of her inner thigh and he slowly moved upward to her most intimate and sensitive spots. Shifting frantically, she guided him upward. He groaned with pleasure as she curled her fingers around him. When he could bear her caresses no longer, he captured her arms and placed them above her head with one hand. Pulse pounding, he waited for her to look up at him, her eyes violent with need. It was then he buried himself deep within her. “Oh, sweet Lord,” she gasped as he found her breasts again, teasing and nipping as he drove deeper and harder. When he spilled himself inside her, she was with him, their moans blending. It was long minutes before either of them could move. The jasmine still floated in the air, mixed with the sweet musk of passion as he gazed down at her. Her eyes were dark and smoldering as she returned his gaze. “So that was making love?” she murmured. His laughter was muffled as he shifted and tucked her next to him, wrapping the sheet around both of them. “Well it sure as hell wasn’t just sex, that’s for sure.” She was quiet for a long moment. “I’m glad you feel that way,” she said finally, “because I don’t make a habit of doing this kind of

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thing.” At his raised brow, she smiled faintly. “I know. I can put on an act when I want to.” “An act?” he asked darkly. “Of the confident woman about town. I’ve had to all my life. Little Alex can’t do that, she’s too small,” she mimicked, her volatile eyes flashing. “Little Alex couldn’t possibly be a detective, she’s too frail. I got so damn sick of everyone coddling me, thinking I didn’t have a brain because I was only five feet tall.” She slid her glance back to him. “I learned to go after what I wanted with a vengeance.” He tucked an errant curl away from her forehead. “So are you saying you wanted me?” he teased. “Since the first moment I met you.” His gaze shot to hers. “Could have fooled me.” She trilled a laugh. “Still rankles doesn’t it? My not falling all over tall, dark and handsome you?” “Actually, I didn’t expect you to.” He leaned back against the pillow, absently rubbing a thumb along her bare arm. “I was too busy getting over the fact that you weren’t a man.” His gaze shifted back to hers. “In fact, I’m still trying to come to terms with who you really are. Just when I think I’ve got it all figured out, you do something that has me scratching my head again.” “Life would be boring if it was always predictable.” “I didn’t think so until I met you.” She raised herself on one elbow. “I think that was a compliment.” “It was.” His glance rose to the picture across the room from them and then slid back to her. “Did someone tell you that you couldn’t paint?” -126-

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He saw the surprise flicker in her eyes. “What brought that on?” “Because the day I saw the paintings in your office was the only time I sensed just a hint of uncertainty beneath all that confidence you exude.” She curled next to him again, her expression serious. “You’re rather astute, you know that?” He didn’t answer but just waited. She hesitated, considering, her green eyes looking past him for a moment. “I was in the eighth grade and already my favorite subject was art. I loved taking a blank canvas and bringing it to life with color.” She shifted restlessly. “My parents had always encouraged my artistic ability and, up until then, so had my teachers. Then I had Mrs. Maine.” He captured her hand, tugging her next to him again. “She didn’t feel the same way?” “Quite the contrary. She insisted my parents enroll me in an art course at the local college. One she taught. I remember being so excited, feeling so grown up. Me, thirteen years old and in college!” “I gather things didn’t go well?” he asked, his lips settling on one bare shoulder. She shoved him gently. “Now how am I going to tell you if you keep distracting me?” He touched his lips to her skin again and then settled back against the pillow. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist. Go on.” “Our first assignment was drawing a model. A skinny blonde with big blue eyes and a haughty expression. I didn’t like the idea right from the start. Everything I had created up to that point had -127-

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been strictly from my very vivid imagination. I didn’t like having parameters, being told what and how to paint.” She saw the look in his eyes. “Okay, so maybe I was just a little bit stubborn.” He let that go, seeing the challenge in her expression. “So you didn’t paint the model?” “Oh, sure, I painted her. Just not in the same way. She was too exotic, too perfect for me. I made her a little less so.” “And how did you do that?” he asked in amusement. Her lips curved. “Well, let’s say instead of being tall, willowy and gorgeous, I made her short, plump and slightly homely. I thought it was great but my illustrious teacher wasn’t as impressed. I could have handled the criticism, but my thirteenyear-old psyche couldn’t handle the humiliation in front of the entire class.” He ran soothing fingers along her arm. “She embarrassed you?” “She did more than that, Brad. It was apparent she thought I was mocking her and, although that was never my intention, she criticized everything she could possibly think of about the painting. The color usage, the proportions, the inability to follow directions. I ran from the room crying and never went back. Needless to say, my father paid her a visit but I refused to return and finally my parents gave up.” He raised himself up on one elbow, shaking his head. “You mean to tell me just that one experience prevented you from pursuing a career in something you’re obviously so talented in?” He tipped her chin up. “That doesn’t sound like the woman I’ve come to know.” “Obviously not, since you’ve seen some of my paintings,” she shot back. -128-

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“But the question is how many other people have?” “It doesn’t matter now.” He regarded her silently for a long moment. “Yeah, I think it does. For every one Mrs. Maine in the world, Alex, there are hundreds of people that would appreciate that insight, that ability to take imagination and bring it to life. I know I did.” The nervous knot in her stomach, the one she hadn’t even been aware was there, dissolved immediately. She flung her arms around him. “That is one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me. How can I thank you?” “Oh, I can think of a few ways,” he murmured suggestively. Her laughter quickly changed to a moan as he slid his hands down the slender line of her. “You’re so small, so incredibly delicate,” he murmured, cupping the nape of her neck with his hand. “I’m afraid I’ll crush the breath out of you.” “Let’s see who can’t breathe,” she taunted, running a nail along his chest. “Is that a challenge?” “What do you think?” she asked lips curving. “I think I like that dare.” “Then you’ll love this,” she whispered, easing herself on top of him. She tossed her long curls behind her as she arched back, taking him inside slowly, achingly. “Can you still breathe?” she gasped, eyes cloudy with passion. His laughter ended abruptly when she began to move against him. In the end they discovered neither of them could.

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Chapter Six “He was just a baby,” the woman said, tears shining in her eyes. “Both of them were.” Brad and Alex sat in the front room of a small bungalow just outside of Richmond, Virginia. The neighborhood was quiet and middle class with well-kept lawns and freshly painted fences. “I know these are very sad memories, Mrs. White, but it would really help if you could tell us as much as you remember about that day.” The doorbell rang before the woman could respond and she rose. “That will be Jackie. We agreed that meeting here together might be easier for both of us. It was her son that was killed with Justin. We’ve become very close giving each other emotional support the past year.” She opened the door and a tall, dark-haired woman entered. She held herself stiffly, her expression tight. “Thanks for coming, Jackie,” Renee White said, motioning for the other woman to have a seat. “This is Brad Norton and Alex Leahy. They want to ask us some questions about the day our sons were killed.” Jackie settled next to Renee. Both of them appeared anxious and uncomfortable. Madeline was tearing at a tissue she held in her hand while Jackie’s expression was closed and tight. -130-

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“Mrs. White,” Alex began and stopped when the woman raised a hand. “Please call us by our first names, Renee and Jackie.” Alex nodded. “All right, Renee, what do you remember about that day?” “Every single minute of it. Justin and Daniel, Jackie’s son, had just finished football practice.” She closed her eyes briefly. “I can still see Justin laughing at something Danny had said as they walked toward the car. It was my turn to pick them up that day. Jackie and I carpooled because the other kids were in…” She stopped and swallowed hard. “Anyway, I watched them walk across the school parking lot. I turned to wave at one of the other mothers when I heard the gunshots. At first, I had no idea that’s what they were, but when I turned back… both boys were lying on the ground.” Her voice shook. “There was blood everywhere and I remember screaming…" She stopped, lifting glistening eyes to them. “By the time the ambulance got there it was too late.” Jackie put a hand on her friend’s, her expression tense. “What is it you want to know? It’s been over a year now. Our boys are gone and there’s nothing we can do about it. The police never did arrest anyone and it doesn’t look like they’re going to.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “The wounds are just healing. Is it really necessary to open them now?” “We think it is, Jackie,” Brad said quietly. “My aunt was killed about six months ago in much the same way just outside Charleston, South Carolina. We think it might have been by the same person.” His words shocked both women. “How could that possibly be?” Renee asked, her gaze going from Alex to Brad’s. -131-

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“Because there have been other murders,” Alex said gently. “Starting in Ohio and then in West Virginia, your boys here in Virginia and then a woman in Charlotte, North Carolina. The last victim was Brad’s aunt in Charleston.” Jackie rose, crossing her arms, angry gaze boring into both of them. “What nonsense is this? The police made no mention of a serial killer which is what you obviously are suggesting. Besides, why our boys?” She shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense.” “You may be right,” Brad said calmly. “That’s why we are here, to get at the truth if we can. Were there any other witnesses? Anyone who could give us a description?” Renee shook her head, rubbing her forehead absently. “I wish there were. The police canvassed the neighborhood around the school for days, asked students and other football players if they had seen anything. No one was able to give us any information worth anything.” “Only thing they were sure of,” Jackie said, “was that the shots were fired from relatively close range. The police believe the killer was in a car probably parked out of sight, but there were no witnesses to confirm that.” “Did your boys have any enemies? Any punks that resented the jocks?” Jackie shook her head. “It’s a small town. Everyone knows everyone. If something like that was going on one of us would have known.” “Were any of your other children at school that day?” Alex asked. Renee nodded. “David was a freshman last year. Jackie’s girls were still in elementary school at the time.” -132-

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“Was he there that night?” “He had soccer practice at the field in back of the school. He didn’t even know anything had happened until later.” “We would still like to talk to him if he’s around,” Alex said. Renee glanced at the mantel clock. “He’s still at practice. The school is about two miles down on the right. It should be finished in about fifteen minutes. He’s a tall boy with blond hair and blue eyes. I think he was wearing a red sweatshirt this morning.” A look of pain flashed over her face. “He looks a lot like Justin did.” Brad and Alex both rose. “Thank you for meeting with us,” Alex said, her eyes soft with sympathy. “I can’t imagine what you have gone through, but know if there is any way we can find who did this to your sons, we will.” Renee smiled mistily, leaning forward to take her hand. “We appreciate that. Maybe it would provide some closure.” Jackie shook her head, anger still simmering in her eyes. “I still think your theory is a bit far-fetched, but if you’re right then I hope you find him. It’s lucky I don’t own a gun because I’m afraid of what I would do if I actually came face-to-face with someone who would do such a horrible thing.” Renee put a hand on her arm. “It wouldn’t do any good, Jackie. Nothing is going to bring back our sons.” The other woman’s face crumpled. “I know,” she sobbed. “It’s just so unfair. I miss him so much!” Renee looked up at the two of them, tears glistening in her eyes. “It’s still so hard,” she said, her voice thick. “I know,” Alex said softly, rising. “We’ll be in touch. Thank you.”

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It was only after they were in the car once again that Alex turned to Brad, her eyes dark with emotion. “Those two women are still hurting a year after their sons were killed. That’s not how it’s supposed to be. You’re supposed to die before your children, not the other way around.” “That’s why it’s so hard to accept. I know,” he answered, negotiating a spurt of traffic. “Problem is, they didn’t give us much to go on.” “Maybe the son will know something.” “I’ve already looked over the police reports and pulled up the newspapers from that day. They’ve got nothing. No eyewitness, no murder weapon, not even a description of the car.” “What concerns me more is why those two boys? We at least had a hint of a motive with Anna Steadman. At first, I thought maybe these two were decoys, a way to throw off the scent. But at a school in the middle of the day?” “Jackie Thompson’s husband is a detective with Richmond’s police force. I called him after I arranged a meeting with the two women thinking maybe your hunch about the law enforcement angle might be right.” “Anything?” Brad asked as he slowed to pull in the school. “Nothing new,” she began and then suddenly put a hand on his arm, her expression going flat. “Stop the car, Brad.” He braked, glancing at her in concern. “What’s wrong?” She didn’t answer but instead opened the door and moved around the hood toward the school. There were just a few cars in the lot and he was grateful for that as he put the car in park. He opened the door and stepped out. Following slowly, he almost ran -134-

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into her when she stopped suddenly, eyes closed, and made a complete turn. “Justin is laughing at Daniel’s comment about Mommy having to pick them up and how he couldn’t wait to get his license,” she started, her voice low and controlled. “He looks up to wave and it’s at that moment that he senses danger. Before he can turn, he feels the bullet rip through him. He falls down in shock, almost not feeling the pain until he looks at his hands covered in blood.” She shuddered, her eyes still closed. “He tries to warn his friend, reaches for him, but it’s too late. He sees his mother rushing toward him and he wants to tell her how much it hurts but the words won’t come out. Then everything goes dark.” Tears were streaming down her face as she opened her eyes but she appeared unaware of them, her gaze finding Brad’s. “It wasn’t a spray of bullets that killed them. It was two very carefully placed shots.” Brad wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her back to the car. “That doesn’t change things, honey. We already suspect it was the same man.” She stopped and shook her head. “You don’t understand, Brad. This wasn’t a decoy. He wanted to kill those boys. God knows for what reason but, although there were five or six shots fired, according to Daniel’s father, those shots were the first. I heard and felt it.” He opened the car door, pausing and leaning against it. “There’s got to be a connection, then. Something that ties him to those kids.”

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Alex turned as a group of boys emerged from behind the school. Brad moved forward and walked toward them and shortly afterward returned with a tall, thin boy. “David

Thompson,

this

is

Alex

Leahy.

She’s

a

private

investigator. Do you think you could give us just a few moments?” He shrugged. “Sure, I guess its okay.” His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You check with my mom about this?” “We did,” Alex said, handing him her cell phone, “but I’d like you to call her to confirm that we did.” He took the phone and backed away. The conversation was quick. He handed the phone back to her and raised suddenly wary eyes to both of them. “Mom says you have some questions about Justin.” “We do,” Brad said, leaning casually against the car. “Pretty hard, losing a brother. Always wished I had one.” “We fought a lot but he was always there for me.” He swallowed visibly. “I wish I could have been with him that day. Maybe I could have changed things.” Alex started to move forward but Brad shot her a warning look. “Yeah, I know. My aunt was killed just like your brother was. I keep on thinking if only I’d been in the car with her, maybe it wouldn’t have happened. Guilt’s such a damn hard thing to deal with, no matter if it’s justified or not. And it isn’t,” he said straightening. “Nothing you could have done would have changed things, David. No more than anything I could have done. It’s just taken me a long time to realize that.” David raised hopeful eyes. “You think so?” Brad nodded. “That doesn’t change the fact that we need your help, though. Is there anything you can think of about that day -136-

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that might help us find your brother’s killer? Any little thing that you remember?” “Nah. Like I told the police, I was practicing soccer just like tonight. It sounded like a car backfiring and I didn’t even know anything had happened until I heard the sirens. By the time I got to the parking lot, they were already loading Justin and Danny into the ambulance.” Brad scanned the area. The soccer fields were just visible from where they were standing. “There are two exits that I can see from here. One in back of us and the other runs parallel with the field. Think hard, David. Did you see a car speeding away or catch a glimpse of someone you didn’t know?” The boy obligingly was silent for a moment and then shook his head. “The sun was pretty low in the sky, just like today. There were a few people watching the practice but they didn’t leave in a hurry. Most of them were still there when we heard the ambulance.” Brad held out his hand. “Thanks, David. If you hear or think of anything else, give us a call will you? Your mom has our cards.” “Yeah, sure,” David said, shaking Brad’s hand. He glanced at Alex who had been surprisingly quiet. “Haven’t seen too many lady investigators that look like you,” he said. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way,” he apologized, lowering his gaze in embarrassment. Alex smiled. “I know exactly what you meant, David. Believe me you’re not the first person to say that. Thanks for your help.” “How good are you with that ball?” Brad asked. David tossed him a surprised look. “You mean soccer? I’m pretty good. Play mostly forward.”

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“Care to kick a few? I haven’t played soccer since college. I miss it.” “Sure. As long as you don’t care if I cream you.” “We’ll see.” Brad said, turning to Alex and tossing her the keys. “Meet us around the back.” Alex rolled her eyes and switched seats. “What is it they say about men being boys with bigger clothes?” “Do you mind?” She shook her head. “Need to relieve some tension?” His eyes shot to hers. “Could be.” “No problem. Just don’t be asking for a backrub later when your muscles complain.” She watched in amusement as Brad faced David and three of his friends. Within five minutes, it was obvious Brad could hold his own. If she didn’t miss her guess, there was a reason for this impromptu soccer game. There was a sensitivity beneath Brad’s tough exterior. One she found immensely appealing. Half an hour later, Brad finally made his way to the car, panting but with a wide grin on his face. Alex slid over as he opened the door. He smelled of sweat and grass as he took his place behind the wheel. “God, that felt good. Probably won’t be able to walk tomorrow but it was worth it.” “I gather there was a point to this exercise other than torturing your muscles?” He nodded. “I figured maybe if he relaxed a bit, David might be able to remember something else about that night.” “Any success?” “Maybe. He’s coming over right now. I’ll ask him.”

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“You’re pretty good for an old man,” David taunted, leaning against the open window. “Yeah, right. Beat the pants off of you and your two buddies and you know it.” David nodded, bouncing the soccer ball on the ground. “I better get a move on before Mom wonders where I’m at. She’s funny about that since…well since Justin died.” “Don’t worry about it,” Alex reassured him. “I called her and told her we’d drop you off.” “Cool. I haven’t ever ridden in a Mercedes before.” “Before you get in, David,” Brad said casually, “do me a favor. Look around and think back to that day. See anything out of the ordinary? A stranger, someone parked oddly? Anything?” “I’ll try.” He tossed the ball in the back of the car and glanced from left to right, his expression thoughtful. “I didn’t see anyone that was strange but I do remember something.” He pointed to the opposite corner of the soccer field near the parking lot. “See those trees over there? Right in front of that is a service road. Kids get in trouble for trying to park there. I remember seeing a green car there around four or so that afternoon and thinking whoever owned it was going to be in trouble. Didn’t recognize it as being anyone I know though.” “That helps, David. Anything else?” The boy shook his head. “Not that I can remember.” “You mentioned people were watching you play that day,” Alex said. “Any family?”

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“Dad sometimes came, but he was working late. I think my Uncle Matt was watching Justin play football. No one else was there. It was just practice.” “Does Uncle Matt live around here?” “Nah. I don’t even know where he lives. He only visits once in awhile. Dad and he don’t get along so good.” “Why’s that?” “Because he’s always suckering Mom out of some money. Although last year right after Justin was…well, you know… he hasn’t been back. Doesn’t work a whole lot from what I’ve heard. He’s okay though.” “Did you see your uncle’s car parked by the soccer field that afternoon?” David nodded. “Yeah. In fact, he gave us a ride to the hospital. Pretty bad day for everyone.” They pulled into the driveway of the bungalow and waved goodbye to David. Brad glanced at Alex after they pulled out. “What was that all about?” She shrugged. “Nothing much. It’s just that sitting in that car, I got the oddest feeling that whoever shot those boys had been in that same area. Someone who knew them.” She shook her head. “Doesn’t sound like it was the uncle though.” “You okay?” She nodded. “I just wish I could control what I see a little more. Places and people can stimulate the visions but I’m never sure exactly what they will tell me. It would be so much easier if I could just see the killer and identify him. Sometimes that happens but often it’s just bits and pieces, like a puzzle I need to connect.”

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“Fair amount of detectives thinking the same thing,” he said dryly. “Come on, Alex, you’ve already given us more clues than we would have had. Hopefully we’ll learn more as we go.” Her lips curved as she glanced over at him. “You’re a pretty good detective, Brad. Couldn’t have done better with that young man than you. Of course, I couldn’t have related to him in such a macho way.” “Jealous?” “Oh sure!” she said, laughing. “Male bonding isn’t something I’ll ever understand.” She glanced over at him. “You’ll make a good father, Brad.” “I doubt it. Never had anyone to show me how.” “You resent your father that much?” “I did. We’re trying to mend fences but it isn’t easy. For either of us.” “Care to tell me about it?” “There isn’t much to tell. My father was very much in love with my mother. She developed ovarian cancer shortly after I was born. He blamed me for her death.” The casual tone of his voice didn’t fool Alex. Her heart went out to him. “How hard that must have been for both of you.” He raised a brow. “Don’t you mean for me?” She shook her head. “For both of you,” she repeated frankly. “People handle death in various ways. I can’t imagine losing the love of your life and being responsible for a baby at the same time.” “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said stiffly. “Maybe I don’t. What I do know is that someone did something right because you are a good man, Brad. Genes only count for a portion of that.” -141-

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She’d stunned him. It was obvious in his expression. He shook his head, tugging a red curl. “How’d you get so smart?” “Women are always smarter when it comes to emotions. Men ignore them.” “Is that so?” “It’s a proven fact,” she said haughtily. “All right, smart woman, what would you like to do now? Travel further or spend another night in a hotel?” “Only if we can spend it like we did yesterday,” she said, fluttering her long eyelashes. “Not sleeping half the night?” he retorted. “What, you can’t handle that?” “Watch me,” he said firmly, pulling in front of one of the hotels lining the street. “Since you are so bright, Miss Leahy, you can do the registering.” “No problem,” she said, reaching for the handle. “At least this time I’ll ask for the right bed size.” He watched her walk in, admiring the sway of her firm backside. He put the car in park and leaned back, his arms behind his head, stretching the kinks out. It was dark now, the stars beginning to light the sky while the neon of the hotel signs began shining brightly. He slid open the window, breathing in the slightly chilly night air. Things were moving faster than he was comfortable with and that wasn’t the way he liked it, he thought, his gaze wandering back to the glass doors. He preferred it slow and easy. Only problem was his feelings for the woman didn’t allow for slow and easy. She saw past the façade he’d erected so long ago, saw the man beneath. -142-

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He rubbed a hand across the stubble on his jaw. He needed a shower and a good dinner. He grinned to himself, his thoughts straying to Alex. No, what he really needed was to share that shower, forget the damn dinner, and order room service… in bed… Hell, he had it bad, he thought, feeling his body respond to his thoughts. A truck drove past, its headlights illuminating the inside of the car briefly. He caught the glint of something on the floor and reached down thinking Alex might have lost an earring. In that split second, he felt the sting of something at his temple, then jerked at the explosion of glass flying at him. Automatically, he reached up, his head beginning to spin. Through the blurred vision, he eyed the blood on his hand… Damn! I’ve been shot, he thought dimly as the roar in his head grew louder and louder. He tried desperately to grip the steering wheel, keep himself upright. Spots danced before his eyes as he began to lose his bid to stay conscience. Everything was rapidly growing dim as he slumped forward, rapping his head hard on the steering wheel. His last thoughts were of Alex as he slid sideways, blood flowing down his pale face. *** Alex opened the lobby door, smiling as she walked toward the car, pleased and feeling just a little smug. Not only did she negotiate a good price, but she got that king size bed with a Jacuzzi tub thrown in as well. She opened the passenger’s door and began to slide in.

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“You should have sent me in yester…” She stopped, stifling a scream, her eyes widening in horror. Brad lay slumped on the seat, deathly white, blood pouring from his head. She reached down with trembling fingers and felt his neck, taking a deep, shuddering breath when she felt a pulse. She grabbed her cell phone and dialed 911 while at the same time putting pressure on the head wound. She stammered out the name of the hotel and the location while frantically looking for someone, anyone. “Don’t you dare die on me, Bradley Norton,” she said, tossing the phone on the floor, her voice shaking with fear. “Not here, not now…please!” It was then she spied two teenagers walking near the hotel. “Help! I need help!” “What’s the problem?” one of them asked as he sauntered over. “Oh, Jesus!” he swore as he caught sight of the broken glass and the blood. “Rick, go get someone, fast!” He took off his coat and used it to shove the glass out of the way as he opened the door on the other side while his friend took off. “Is he alive?” She nodded, not trusting her voice, her hand shaking as she continued to hold pressure on the wound. He was so damn still, she thought, a tear escaping and sliding down her cheek. The young man standing on the other side of the car helped support Brad’s head, his face pale as he saw the blood soaking through the shirt Alex had grabbed from the back seat. A security guard came running out his weapon drawn followed by the desk clerk she had registered with earlier. “Is he breathing?” the guard asked kneeling beside Alex. “Yes,” she whispered. “I’ve already called an ambulance.” “You okay?” -144-

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She nodded unable to speak, tears thick in her throat. “Tony,” he motioned to the clerk as people began to congregate around the car, “keep the area clear for the ambulance.” He leaned closer eying the shattered glass. “Did you see what happened?” She shook her head taking a deep breath. “I came out and found him…like this.” At that moment sirens pierced the night air. An ambulance and several police cars screeched to a stop. “Over here!” She motioned through the open window, cradling Brad’s head, her breath catching on a sob at the way his head lolled to the side. The paramedics shoved her aside as they felt for a pulse. She stood watching helplessly as they carefully began maneuvering him out of the car. When they finally succeeded, one of them slipped an oxygen mask over Brad’s face. Moments later they had him on a stretcher. With all of the commotion and lights flashing, the parking lot was soon crowded with onlookers and yet Alex had eyes for no one but Brad. She reluctantly stood aside as they loaded his motionless body into the ambulance, not aware of the tears streaming down her face. “Excuse me, ma’am,” she heard a voice say and turned, feeling like she was moving in slow motion. A tall, gray haired policeman was standing in front of her, his face grim as he caught sight of her bloody hands and shirt. “I’m Lieutenant Roy Clark. Can you tell me what happened?” “Yes…yes,” she said, jerking as the siren blared to life and the ambulance sped away. “I’ve got to follow him. Be there for him.” He nodded. “Do you want me to drive you?” -145-

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She pulled herself together. “I’m sorry. I’m still in shock.” She reached in the car and grabbed her purse, handing him her card. “My name is Alex Leahy and the man…the man they just took away is Brad Norton.” She fought to keep her voice steady. “I was registering at the hotel when he was shot.” She explained quickly and impatiently, crossing her arms to stop them from shaking with reaction. “We’ll search the area but you haven’t given us much to go on, Miss Leahy.” “I know. Listen,” she said, moving to the Mercedes, “just give me the directions to the hospital and if you need more information, you’ll find me there.” “Ma’am, you can’t drive that car. It’s part of the crime scene.” She rounded on him. “Then I guess I’ll take you up on your offer to drive me to the hospital. Quickly.” During the ride she answered as many questions as she could. Finally she lost patience, her nerves frayed to the breaking point. “Listen, I’ve told you as much as I can. I was in the hotel at the time Brad was shot. As I said, I have an idea of the why but not the who at this point. Right now, I don’t care. I just want to get to the hospital.” The officer nodded sympathetically, his expression softening slightly. “Understood, Miss Leahy.” He negotiated a corner and then glanced at her in the rear view mirror. “You know, this might simply be a drive-by shooting. Hasn’t happened in this town in a very long time but it’s possible.” He gave her a puzzled look when she began to laugh, ending with a sob. He brought the car to a stop in front of the emergency

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room but before he could ask about her odd reaction, she was out and running through the sliding glass doors. “They brought in a man just a short while ago. A Bradley Norton,” she said to the woman sitting in front of the desk, her heart pounding almost painfully. “The head wound,” she nodded. “He’s in cubicle four. Are you family?” “Yes,” Alex lied, already heading in the direction she had indicated. “Then maybe you could fill in the forms when you get a chance,” she called after her. Alex didn’t bother responding as she shoved the curtain aside, surprising the nurse and physician who were standing by Brad. She stopped, her gaze flying to the figure on the bed. Those beautiful dark eyes were still closed, the skin pale beneath his tan. She fought the sob that rose to her throat. “Can I help you?” the nurse asked, frowning. “How is he?” Alex asked huskily. “He’s holding his own, Miss…?” the doctor said. “Alex Leahy. Brad is my fiancé,” she said, hoping God would forgive her for the lies she was telling. “What does that mean, he’s holding his own?” “According to the squad that brought him in, the police suspect he was shot. My exam confirms that is the case. Fortunately, although the cut is rather deep and required stitches, the bullet didn’t penetrate further. It does concern me that he hasn’t regained consciousness, however. He has some contusions on his forehead along with some abrasions that aren’t related to the initial wound. It appears to be blunt force trauma which leads me to -147-

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believe he must have hit his head on the dashboard or steering wheel. If that’s the case, that might account for the delay in responding.”. “How will you know if that’s the reason he hasn’t awakened?” she asked, moving to the bed and brushing a lock of dark hair back from Brad’s face. Her fingers trembled when there was no response. “I’m sending him for X-rays and an MRI. We’ll know more in a short while.” He smiled kindly. “Why don’t you have a seat outside and I’ll let you know as soon as we have the results.” He extended his hand, taking her cold one in his and squeezing reassuringly. He waved to the nurse who was busy covering Brad’s wound. “That is Sandy Stuart and I’m Doctor Taylor. We’ll take care of him, I promise you.” “Thank you, doctor,” she said huskily. “Please let me know the minute he wakes up.” She found her way back to the waiting room, purposely avoiding the desk. She wasn’t in the mood to talk about insurance right now. She walked through the sliding glass doors into the night air, taking deep gulps, tears squeezing between her closed eyes. Damn! She should have seen this coming, should have felt something. What good was all that clairvoyance if she couldn’t even protect the ones she loved? Another ambulance pulled up and she watched as a tearful family followed an elderly patient on another gurney through the door. Family! She rubbed a hand across her burning eyes. She needed to call Brad’s father. After calling information, she dialed the number and waited. -148-

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A woman with a pleasant Irish brogue answered. “Norton residence.” “Hello. My name is Alex Leahy.” “Ah, yes. You’re the private investigator. Sure and is Brad with you?” “That’s why I’m calling, Miss…? “Maggie.” “Maggie, is Brad’s father available?” There was a short pause. “He just stepped out. Is something wrong?” “Actually there is, Maggie. Brad was admitted to the hospital about fifteen minutes ago.” “Oh, dear Lord! Is he badly hurt?” “He’s stable but is still unconscious. I think his father should be here.” “I’ll find him, you can be sure. Can you give me the phone number and name of the hospital?” Alex gave her the information then hung up slowly, totally exhausted mentally as well as physically. She moved toward the lounge and saw Roy Clark standing just inside the emergency room doors, gazing at her. When she caught his eye, he moved in her direction. “Do you have someone coming to stay with you?” he asked. She nodded. “Brad’s family is on their way.” She blinked back a rush of tears, grateful for the sympathy she detected in his expression and the fact he’d stayed. He sat next to her in the almost-empty visiting lounge. “Can I ask you one more thing, Miss Leahy?” She shrugged, suddenly totally exhausted. “Sure. Why not?” -149-

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“Why the reaction earlier?” She lifted her gaze to his. “About the chance Brad could have been shot by a stray bullet?” He nodded. It was almost a relief to tell him. Almost a relief to concentrate on something else other than the sight of Brad so still and pale on that gurney. When she was finished, all traces of sympathy had disappeared from Roy Clark’s expression. “You sure of your facts?” “Of what we have so far, yes, but it’s not enough. If we play our hand too soon and we don’t have enough evidence to make it stick on whoever is responsible, then we’ll lose.” She stood, stretching the kinks in her back. “One thing I’ll promise you, if something happens to Brad…” she paused, fighting for control. “I’ll find him, if it takes the rest of my life, I’ll find him.” He stood and put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly. “For what it’s worth, I spoke to the head nurse out there,” he said, jerking his head toward the desk. “She says there’s an excellent chance your friend will be okay. Just hang tight.” “I will,” she said, smiling tremulously. “And just for the record, Miss Leahy, you won’t be alone. I’ll be looking for him as well. We don’t take kindly to crime in our neck of the woods.” Impulsively, she hugged him. “Thank you.” “I’ll check back later,” he said, clearing his throat obviously touched. “In the meantime, get yourself something to eat. There’s a cafeteria down the hall.” “I will and thanks.” He nodded, waving as he walked away. -150-

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Alex paced back and forth in the lounge, absently watching the emergency room activity. Several times she asked about Brad and each time was told that he was stable. She walked to the cafeteria and ordered food but her appetite deserted her the minute she sat down to eat. Forcing herself to swallow a few bites she was soon walking back to the lounge. Feeling terribly alone and frightened she flipped open her cell phone and called her parents. “Mom, I’m so scared. He was so still, so pale when they brought him in.” “Oh, love, I’m so sorry. Do you want us to fly up?” “No, there’s no point.” She sighed. “I just wish someone would tell me something besides the fact that he’s stable, damn it!” “That’s my girl. That infamous Irish temper will keep you steady.” Alex’s spirit lifted just a little. “You always know the right thing to say, Mom.” “Just hang in there, honey, and let us know the minute you know something.” “I will.” Smiling slightly, she disconnected the call just as she overheard someone asking for Brad. She lifted weary eyes and knew it had to be Andrew Norton, Brad’s father, standing in front of the desk. The family resemblance was unmistakable. Behind him stood a tall blond man and a slender dark-haired woman. “I demand to see my son! Now!” “Mr. Norton, if you’ll just give me a moment, I’ll check with his nurse,” the secretary at the desk said. “In the meantime, you can have a seat with Miss Leahy over there in the visitor’s lounge.”

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Andrew followed her gaze and strode toward Alex. “What the hell happened?” “If you want answers, Mr. Norton,” she snapped, “you’ll have to wait just as I have the past several hours.” She took a deep breath, attempting to control her temper because underneath the scowl she saw worry in the man’s eyes. “I told you as much as I know when I phoned you,” she said quietly. “As I assume you’ve surmised, I’m Alex Leahy,” she finished, extending her hand. “I know who you are,” he said impatiently, ignoring her gesture. She raised a brow. Before she could respond, however, the man standing just in back of him moved forward, putting a hand out, his blue eyes warm despite his concern. “Hi, Alex. I’m Kevin Lloyd, Brad’s cousin.” He glanced backward, frowning. “Have they told you anything?” She shook her head. “All the tests have come back negative. They just don’t know why he still hasn’t regained consciousness.” “Then why the hell don’t they find out!” Andrew roared. “That’s enough, Andrew,” the dark-haired woman at his side said, her Irish brogue thick as she put a soothing hand on his arm. She smiled at Alex, her blue eyes kind. “I’m sorry. To be sure, we’re all upset right now.” Her gaze moved to the empty waiting room. “How awful it must have been for you to sit here all by yourself.” Alex could feel herself relaxing just a little as she smiled slightly. “You must be Maggie. Brad described you perfectly. He loves you very much, you know.” Tears glistened in the woman’s eyes as she squeezed her hand. “Thank you for that, love.”

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Kevin ran a hand through his short blond hair. “Damn it! This is my fault. If I hadn’t insisted Brad investigate Mom’s death, none of this would have happened.” Andrew shot him a dark look but Maggie intercepted. “You don’t know that, Kevin. Besides, Brad has a mind of his own.” “One thing for certain, Kevin,” Alex said, sinking into a chair, “your instincts were right on. We wouldn’t be here right now if Brad and I weren’t making someone very jumpy.” She glanced at Andrew. “I just didn’t think we were close enough for him to react so quickly or so violently.” “Damn!” Kevin said tightly. “You think this person is stalking the two of you?” Alex smiled slightly. “I don’t think I’d use that term exactly but that is essentially it. Someone obviously isn’t happy with our investigation and took measures to see we didn’t get any closer.” “Maybe you should have thought of that possibility before you started off half-cocked,” Andrew growled. Alex tensed, ready to tell him just what she thought of his opinion then stopped and bit back the words. The man was half out of his mind with worry and the last thing either of them needed at that particular moment was a confrontation. She took a calming breath and nodded. “Maybe you’re right, Mr. Norton.” She could see the disappointment in his eyes when she didn’t take the bait. It was obvious he wanted someone to argue with right now. Someone to blame besides himself. “Do you have any idea who….” Kevin started to say when a feminine voice from behind him called his name. He turned, holding out a hand to a petite blond, curling her against him, his expression lightening slightly. -153-

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“Alex Leahy, this is my fiancée, Carolyn Langford.” “Hello, Alex,” Carolyn said, smiling, and then looked up at Kevin. “After Mom gave me your message, I got here as quickly as I could. How is he?” “I’m still waiting for another update. They won’t even let me see him.” She was tired, dirty and frightened and suddenly envious of Kevin’s arms around his fiancée. “Maybe I can get a little more information,” Carolyn said, moving toward the desk. Maggie put an arm around Alex, leading her to one of the chairs. “Carolyn is a physician so maybe they’ll tell her more than they’ve told you.” Her gaze strayed to Brad’s father who was pacing back and forth, his expression fierce. “He’s been like this since we got your phone call.” Alex followed her gaze, her heart going out to the older man. “It must be hard realizing you love your son a whole lot more than you thought you did.” Maggie’s gaze moved back to her. “I gather Brad has told you about his father?” “Only a little. It isn’t hard to feel his pain when he speaks of him, though.” Maggie sighed. “It’s the same with Andrew. It’s only just recently that they’ve begun to mend their relationship. I hope to God it’s not too late.” She squeezed Alex’s hand when she noticed her stricken expression. “Oh, honey, I didn’t mean it in that way. It’s just that they’ve been at odds for so very long. A whole lot of damage has been done.” Carolyn walked back to them and Alex rose along with Maggie. “Well?” Andrew asked. -154-

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“He’s stable, his vital signs are strong and all the X-rays are negative. Those are all good things. Now we just have to wait for him to wake up. It could be in the next five minutes or in several hours, maybe even a few days. Everyone reacts differently to head wounds.” Andrew’s face darkened. “That’s just not acceptable.” The link was there before Alex was aware of it. Andrew’s warring emotions of worry, pain and guilt slammed into her. It was several moments before she could sort them out, separate them from her own because she could relate to each and every one of those same emotions. She shook her head, keeping her voice even. “You can’t control everything, Mr. Norton. Whether you find the situation acceptable or not, it is what it is.” She felt his anger as he turned to face her but as her gaze collided with his, she could see the emotion fade somewhat. “You’re rather impertinent, young lady,” he said, although his voice had lost its harshness. “No, sir. Just honest.” “You sound like my Olivia,” he said gruffly. “She didn’t pull any punches either.” “I’ll take that as a compliment,” Alex said softly. “Alex,” Carolyn interrupted, putting a hand on her shoulder, “I’ve convinced Dr. Taylor to allow you a few moments with Brad. Apparently he’s been muttering your name even though he’s unconscious.” “Thank you,” Alex said fervently, following her toward the cubicle. Carolyn paused just before the curtain, lowering her voice to a whisper. “I told them you were his fiancée.” -155-

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“Good, because I told them the same thing,” Alex whispered back. Carolyn’s blue eyes lit with amusement. “Smart woman.” Her expression sobered. “Its possible hearing your voice will trigger him into consciousness.” Alex nodded, slipping through the curtain, her eyes filling again as she gazed down at him. He looked so big, so handsome and so damn still. The smell of antiseptic was strong and the white bandage on his head collided with the brown of his skin. Some color had seeped back into his face, however, and that fact helped her gain control. She took a deep breath, calling on the powers she had been born with. She ran her fingers gently along each side of his forehead, closing her eyes, melding his pain with her mind. She fought the urge to stop, to avoid what she knew was to come and began her gentle massage once again. Only her love for the man under her restless fingers urged her go on. She could feel her skin stretch and part, feel the blood trickling down her cheek. She sobbed with the agony of it. Then the pain began to recede and she rode the sensation, her hands no longer on skin but on the cold metal of the rail fighting to stay afloat, keep conscious. She slowly opened her heavy eyelids, sliding her gaze toward the man lying in front of her. She had eased the majority of his discomfort and time would take care of the rest. “Wake up, Brad,” she whispered, taking his hand in hers and holding her breath. His eyelids fluttered and then opened. He blinked wincing as he turned his head. When his gaze locked with hers, he grabbed her hand. -156-

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“Alex,” he muttered his voice thick, “are you okay?” She sobbed a laugh as she bent down to kiss him. “I’m fine.” He reached up to touch the bandage on his head. “He shot me. I remember leaning over to reach for something shining on the floor of the car and heard the pop. Then everything went dark.” “You were so still and so pale,” she said, her voice breaking. He held out his arms and she melted into them, reassured by the steady beating of his heart. “It’ll take more than that bastard to put me down,” he said hoarsely. She was silent for a few moments, resting her cheek against his chest, fighting the emotion. “Did you see him?” “I didn’t see a damn thing. Only felt the sting of the bullet and then nothing.” “We should have been more alert,” she sighed, reluctant to move from his arms. “We’re getting too close. At least he thinks we are and he’s reacting. We should have expected that.” “Maybe,” he sighed pulling her closer. He reached up to tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear and slid a finger along her earlobe, pausing as he tilted her head the other way. “You’re missing something.” “What?” “An earring,” he said, touching the spot where it was missing. “I think that’s what I saw in the car when I was shot.” His gaze moved to hers. “If I hadn’t leaned over…” Alex shuddered. “Things could have been a lot worse.” Reluctantly, she disengaged herself from his arms and stood, swaying just slightly but catching herself before he noticed.

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Healing always made her slightly weak. She took a deep breath and felt steadier. “Your family is out in the waiting room. Let me tell them you’re all right. They’ve been just as worried as I have.” “What family?” “Maggie, Kevin, his fiancée, Carolyn, and your father.” Brad abruptly sat up and then grabbed his head, sinking back down. “My father is here?” “He is and his mood isn’t the best. He’s sure not enough is being done for you. Maggie managed to calm him down and I let him have it as well.” “And how did he respond to that?” he asked dryly. “Told me I was impertinent.” “I’ll bet.” He frowned, his gaze straying to the parted curtain. “I’m surprised he came. Who called him?” “I did. He needs to see you, Brad. The man is truly worried.” “Then I guess you should send him in.” “You sure?” “I’m sure,” he said throwing an arm over his eyes and settling back against the pillow. Hesitating for just a moment, her heart aching, she did as he asked after stopping to let the nurse know he was awake. Andrew was waiting impatiently, still pacing when she entered the waiting room again. She smiled reassuringly, although suddenly she was almost too weary to speak. “He’s awake and doing well.” “Thank God!” Kevin said, sinking down beside Carolyn. “I want to see him. Now!” “As it happens, Mr. Norton, he wants to see you as well.” -158-

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That stopped him. He opened his mouth then closed it. “Good. Which way?” “I’ll show you.” When they reached the curtain, he paused. “I don’t know if I can go in there,” he muttered. “Why?” He turned to her. “I don’t like feeling so uncertain. That’s not who I am.” She met his gaze. “No, what you are is a concerned father. He needs you.” He shot her a quick glance. “He tell you that?” “He didn’t have to. I know.” Andrew took a moment to study the woman in front of him. There was something steady, calming about her. His lips curved in a reluctant smile. “I believe you do.” He took a deep breath and pushed the curtain aside.

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Chapter Seven Andrew stood just inside the room, his gaze moving toward his son. Brad had his eyes closed, his big body dwarfing the stretcher he was on. Emotions he wasn’t even aware he could feel rushed through him, memories of another time, another loved one dying while he stood there feeling totally helpless. His fists clenched as he fought to hold on to that iron control he always relied on. “Are you going to stand there or come in?” A muscle worked at Andrew’s jaw as his eyes shot to his son’s now open ones. “I see you’re feeling better,” he said, his words more harsh than he intended them to be. “I’m not sure how I’m feeling right now,” Brad said, grimacing again as he struggled to sit up. “Why the hell weren’t you more careful?” “Why the hell do you care?” Andrew’s expression stiffened then slowly relaxed. “I guess I deserve that,” he said quietly. “No you didn’t,” Brad said harshly. “You’re right; we should have been more suspicious, more alert.” Andrew paused as one of the nurses walked in to take Brad’s temperature and blood pressure and, nodding in satisfaction, left them alone again.

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“I hate hospitals,” Andrew said gruffly, moving to the side of the stretcher. “Hate the way they smell, the way they make you feel. So damn helpless.” He was silent for a long moment. “I loved her you know. So much it hurt.” Brad’s gaze shot to his, knowing without having to be told exactly what he was referring to. “I know that.” “She was so full of life, so incredibly open. I didn’t know what to make of her. She laughed at me when I complained about her always being late. She called me stiff and old-fashioned. She was everything I wasn’t. Yet I fell so deeply in love with her.” “It doesn’t matter now.” Andrew shook his head. “It matters. When I got that phone call it was as if I were reliving the past all over again. I suddenly realized I could lose you just like I lost her and it hurt like hell.” Brad wasn’t sure what to make of this new side to his father. It wasn’t like him to be so open, so direct about what he was feeling. He found it difficult to accept what he was saying or maybe he just didn’t want to expose himself to being hurt all over again. “Maggie

told

me

something

awhile

back

that

I

didn’t

understand then. I do now,” Andrew continued. “She told me, ‘Brad will know you mean the words you say when you really mean them.’ His gaze locked on Brad’s. “Do you?” “I don’t know. Maybe.” “You think you can forgive me?” “I’ll work on it.” Andrew’s lips curved in a ghost of a smile. “That’s a start then.” He moved a chair nearer and sat. “We’ve got a lot to work through. It’s probably not going to be easy.” “Wouldn’t mean anything if it was,” Brad replied. -161-

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Andrew studied his son. “While I’m apologizing for being such an ass, I might as well go all the way. It seems you and Kevin were right about Ellie’s death. That,” he said, pointing to the bandage on Brad’s head, “appears to confirm your suspicions.” “Alex said as much.” Andrew smiled, relaxing against the back of the chair. “It appears that young woman knows her mind.” “She does.” “She reminds me of your mother.” “Why?” Brad asked, surprised. “Because she has the same way about her. Says what she thinks.” Brad nodded, a smile playing about his lips. “That she does.” “Do I hear my name being used in vain?” Alex asked peeking around the curtain. “You know what they say about eavesdroppers?” Brad said dryly, his gaze catching and holding Alex’s. Dr. Taylor appeared behind her moving into the room. He bent to examine Brad’s wound and then checked his eyes with a small light. “Well, Mr. Norton, it appears you’re feeling much better. How’s the head?” “Not too bad. Aches a little.” “Not surprising. You were very, very lucky.” “I know.” He shifted restlessly. “When can I get out of here?” “I’d like to keep you overnight. Just to make sure there are no residual effects.” Brad shook his head emphatically, ignoring the pain the movement caused. “No way.” -162-

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Alex gave him a gentle shove. “Quit being such a pain.” She turned to the doctor. “What if I guarantee he won’t be left alone tonight and I bring him back in tomorrow for a follow up?” “I guess that would be acceptable. I’ll have one of the nurses give you some instructions on what to watch for.” “Thank you.” She waited until he left, then shook her finger at Brad. “Don’t think you’re getting away with anything, buddy.” He captured her hand and squeezed. “Yes, ma’am.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed, fighting the slight dizziness as he sat up. “Let’s go.” “It might be a good idea if you got dressed first, sport,” Alex teased. “Of course, I like your cute backside but the visitors out there might not feel the same way.” “Then get me my clothes,” he growled. Alex shot Andrew an amused glance. “Temper, temper. I’ll find them.” Andrew followed her out and then stopped her with a hand on her arm. “He needs someone like you, young lady.” She looked up. “Meaning?” Andrew glanced back. “Someone who will push him past the emotional scars. Scars I’m responsible for.” Alex’s heart warmed to the honesty she detected in his voice. “Don’t beat yourself up too much, Mr. Norton. We all make mistakes. The important thing is to learn from them.” “Please call me Andrew.” She nodded. “After all, if I hadn’t been blinded by what I feel for your son, I would have been more diligent.” “What exactly is it you feel toward Brad?” Her lips twitched. “That, Andrew, is none of your business.” -163-

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“Kind of figured I’d get that answer.” His gaze strayed to the closed curtain. “It isn’t your fault, you know.” She sighed. “Maybe not, but I don’t like being caught by surprise. I just didn’t expect whoever this is to act so soon. After all, we haven’t exactly found anything conclusive.” “You found something, that much is obvious,” he said dryly. “You just might not know it yet.” “Then I’ll find out what that something is. Soon.” “I don’t doubt you will.” *** It was over an hour later that Alex and Brad were finally alone in the hotel room she had reserved. She smiled absently at the fancy bar and the large space with the heart-shaped Jacuzzi tub at one end. Didn’t mean a whole lot now, she thought fleetingly. She was so tired anything, even the floor, would do right at this moment. Fortunately the rest of the Brad’s family was able to find rooms in the same hotel. They were all beyond exhausted, physically and emotionally. Brad stretched out on the bed and sighed. “Damn! This feels good. Nothing like lying on a narrow cart for hours to appreciate a soft bed.” She eyed him carefully. “You okay?” He rubbed his eyes and then stretched again. “Better than okay now that I’m out of that blasted place.” “No headache or blurred vision?” He tossed her a look of disgust. “I’m fine, Alex. Leave it.”

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“I will if you agree to take that sleeping pill the doctor prescribed.” “I’m not taking any sedatives,” he said, rubbing his forehead. “Listen, Brad, I promised the doctor I’d wake you up periodically through the night. If you don’t take that pill you won’t be fit for anything tomorrow.” “All right, all right, I’ll take the damn thing,” he growled. She handed it to him, waiting until he swallowed it. Satisfied, she moved toward her suitcase, eyeing her stained shirt in distaste. “You relax there and I’ll get rid of these clothes. Be back in a minute.” She tossed a warning look back at him. “And behave yourself, will you? The door’s locked and the curtains are pulled. Leave them that way.” She didn’t wait to hear his response as she closed the bathroom door. She frowned at her reflection in the mirror and turned on a stream of hot water in the shower, grateful for the large size. Letting her clothes fall to the floor, she stepped into the tiled enclosure. Adjusting the temperature, she reveled in the almost too hot water, the steam serving to ease the tension in her head and shoulders. She lathered the soap and rubbed the knots in her neck, fighting sudden tears. No matter how ridiculous she knew it was, she blamed herself for what had happened. She was damn good at what she did, methodical and careful. Her love for Brad had made her careless, and careless got people killed. She took a deep breath and reached for her shampoo, pouring the liquid into her hands just as the shower curtain was thrust open. She stifled a scream as Brad stepped in next to her. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” -165-

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“Taking a shower.” “You’re supposed to be resting, Brad.” “I’m sick of resting. Thought I’d get the smell of hospital off of me.” “You could wait for your turn, you know,” she snapped. “You don’t listen to instructions very well do you?” “Haven’t for years.” He tugged her close pressing his face against her damp hair. “You smell good.” She pushed him away. “Just let me wash my hair and then you can have the damn shower to yourself.” He grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face him. “Why are you really so upset, Alex?” he asked, rubbing a thumb against her collarbone soothingly. “I don’t honestly know.” She admitted, resting her head against his chest. “Maybe it’s guilt or anger or both. I could have lost you today, Brad. Forever.” “Shut up, Alex,” he muttered, sliding the shampoo she still held in her hands into his. Working the fragrant liquid into a lather, he began massaging her scalp with his long fingers. She groaned with the sensual enjoyment of it. The groan changed to a moan when those same massaging fingers went lower, cupping her breasts, his thumbs doing wicked things to her taut nipples. Breathing hard, she put her hands against his chest, pushing him back, the streaming water rinsing her hair. “The last thing you need right now is sex,” she warned breathlessly. “It’s the only thing I need right now,” he said, lowering his head and covering her lips. The steaming water continued cascading around them as he trailed his lips along her damp cheeks, fragrant -166-

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with the scent of soap. Abruptly, he reached behind her and shut the shower off. Grabbing her hand, he tugged her out of the enclosure and into the bedroom before she could even grab a towel. “Cut it out, Brad,” she protested. “I’m freezing here!” “Not for long,” he murmured, lowering his body over hers. Her fingers played restlessly on his back as he rained kisses along the side of her breasts to her flat stomach. “Brad, I’m absolutely not going to…” she began and then couldn’t continue as a myriad of sensations cascaded through her. Almost unwillingly, she reached down and guided his lips to hers in a long passionate kiss. She ran her fingers along the dark stubble of his jaw. Exploring further, she caressed his muscular back, feeling him quiver under her hands.” “Lord, you’re killing me,” he groaned. She smiled wickedly. “I’m not cold anymore,” she whispered huskily. He raised his head, the look in his eyes so incredibly warm and sexy that it sent chills through her. “Imagine that,” he murmured, lifting her hips as he slid inside. She arched, meeting him move for move as shivering sensations rolled over and through her. It was only afterward, as she lay curled next to him, sated and lazily lethargic, that the events of the day came storming back. Her glance slid upward to the now damp bandage on his forehead and the slight discoloration underneath. “Don’t.” She raised an eyebrow, meeting his gaze. “Don’t what?”

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He pulled her closer to him, wrapping both of them in the sheet. “Don’t imagine things that didn’t happen.” “They could have.” “But they didn’t.” She reached up and turned his face to hers, her fingers caressing his forehead, then his jaw, swallowing the bitter taste of the fear she had experienced earlier. If she had lost this man… She shuddered, the thought too awful to linger on. “I love you.” It took a moment or two for her to absorb the words. “What?” He smiled, running a finger along her still flushed cheek. “I said I love you.” “How do you know?” His face darkened. “What the hell kind of question is that?” “I just need to know what your definition of love is,” she said candidly, her eyes finding his. His jaw tightened. “What is this, psychology class? Damn it, Alex! I say something I’ve never said to another woman and you throw it back in my face.” “I’m not doing that.” She sat up to lean against the headboard, taking the sheet with her, trying to still the way her heart was pounding at his words, not wanting to reveal how very important his response was. “It’s just that I need to know when you say you love me, you mean roses and lace and until death do us part.” She met his gaze steadily. “Because if you don’t, I’m not sure I can continue our business relationship.” “Is that an ultimatum?” She shook her head. “Not at all. It would just hurt too much otherwise.” -168-

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Before she knew it, she was back in his arms. “Is that your way of saying you love me too?” “You already know I do.” He smiled down at her, tracing his finger across her lips. “Then the next logical step would be to ask you to marry me.” She nodded. “Makes sense to me.” He settled back in the bed and yawned. “I’ll get around to it when the time is right.” “Why you…” she started to say and then stopped. His eyes were already closed and before she could settle next to him again he was soundly sleeping. “You better get around to it, mister,” she whispered, feathering a kiss along his relaxed brow. “Or there’ll be hell to pay.” She pulled the blanket up around both of them curling next to his warm body. Her eyes began to close and instantly she was bombarded by disjointed visions. A tall thick man with cruel lips, Madeline crying, Justin pale and still on the ground. Then a child lying limply in his mother’s arms while she sobbed hysterically. A man’s ring grotesquely covered in blood. Her eyes flew open but the visions refused to stop. Brad bleeding, lying on the floor. Gunshots. Blood, lots of blood. “Stop,” she whispered. “Please just stop!” She pressed trembling hands to her eyes and slowly it all faded away. It was a long time before she finally drifted off to sleep, her arms around Brad protectively. And even in sleep she knew it wasn’t enough. -169-

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Chapter Eight She awoke with a start, tensing. A glance at the bedside alarm said a little after four in the morning. She heard a rumble of thunder in the distance and the soft sound of rain drumming against the window. Reaching over she found Brad in the dark, reassured by his steady breathing. Blinking, she tried to clear her eyes of sleep as she sat up, listening intently. There it was again. Instantly she recognized the sound. Someone was attempting to pick the lock on the glass door overlooking the private balcony. She slipped silently from beneath the covers. Reaching for the purse lying on the beside table, her hand curled around the revolver inside. Grabbing her nightshirt, she threw it over her head in one motion, very slowly walking toward the sound. Their room was on the tenth floor and the beam from the street light filtered into the dark allowing her enough light to pick her away around the sofa and table. She was about five feet from the door when it quietly slid open. She watched, holding her breath as the curtains slid to the right just as quietly, the large shape of a man silhouetted against the muted glow from the street. She had taken the time to familiarize herself with the space when they had first entered. Knew where the lamps were and the switches. She reached just behind her and flicked one on. As she -171-

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had hoped, she caught him by surprise. He stood just inside the door, the cool night breeze wafting around him, chilling her skin. He was dressed in black and held a very big, very dangerous looking gun aimed directly at the bed where Brad lay sleeping. His eyes flickered with reaction and then narrowed, a grim smile playing about his thin lips as he kept the gun trained on an oblivious Brad. As their eyes met, pictures began to form in her brain. Family pictures of Renee White with Justin and David and the man standing in front of her. The scene changed, playing out like a movie. The sound of laughter, a school in the background, two boys, gym bags over their shoulders walking toward the parking lot… The same lethal gun steadily aimed…the hard, dead eyes narrowing, focusing… “Uncle Matt,” she said softly. The smile left his lips instantly, shock playing across his features. “Well, well,” he muttered keeping his voice low, “smarter than I thought you were.” He leered at her bare legs and arms. “Don’t know how you figured it out but I don’t much care. You won’t be telling anyone else. Neither you nor your boyfriend.” His face turned ugly, his gaze dropping to her small revolver. “Drop the gun or you’ll watch me finish what I started earlier.” Brad muttered in his sleep at that moment, turning in bed, his brow furrowing at the light. Instantly, the intruder raised his gun, his finger going for the trigger. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t allow herself the luxury, but simply raised her gun and fired.

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The look in his eyes would have been comical if the situation hadn’t been so very frightening. He grabbed his shoulder with a roar and stumbled, losing his balance on the ledge of the open door, falling backward. In slow motion, he teetered against the railing, his gun firing as he frantically attempted to right himself. The bullet found the other side of the open patio door, sending crumbled glass everywhere. Cringing, he lifted his uninjured arm in an attempt to protect his eyes. The debris combined with the slick concrete caused his feet to slide as he raised the gun once again. This time her aim was better. The weapon flew from his hand as she found her mark. He jerked, howling in pain, his feet going out from under him once again. Grabbing the rail, he pulled himself upright. As she moved toward him, he backed away attempting to vault to the next balcony. Only the rain and his injury didn’t allow that. His grip on the thin metal slipped as he stretched between the two. Frantically, he tried to grab it again and grimaced in pain as his injured shoulder protested. Instinctively, he reached up to ease the pain. That one simple movement upset his delicate balance. Just as she reached for him, he began sliding between the rails. Startled eyes met hers for one intense moment and then he disappeared from site, his hoarse scream slicing through the night air. Then there was nothing but silence. Brad leapt from the bed, shocked awake. He groped his way toward the sound. “What the hell was that?” he asked, trying to focus his still- drugged vision while frantically looking for Alex.

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He found her leaning over the balcony and spun her back toward him, running his hands up and down her looking for injuries. “That was our stalker, as your cousin put it. I’m afraid our very dead stalker from the looks of his body on the pavement down there,” Alex said, her voice shaking. “My God!” Keeping an arm wrapped around her, he moved toward the rail, avoiding the pieces of glass and blood. He could just make out a figure lying very still and at an odd angle on the pavement below. His gaze went back to the woman he held in his arms, his pulse still racing. “How’d he get in?” “Picked the lock on the glass door.” She motioned to the neighboring balcony. “My guess is he was trying to get back the way he’d come.” Brad shook her slightly. “Why the hell didn’t you wake me up? Damn it, Alex, you could have been killed!” “You were out for the count, Brad, between what the doctor gave you for pain and that sleeping pill.” She glanced downward again. “Besides, he would have shot you the minute you moved.” Before he could argue further they were both startled by a loud knock on the door. “Brad, open up!” There was more pounding. “Are you two okay?” Brad grabbed a pair of jeans and slid into them and then walked over, unlocking the door. A disheveled Kevin stood there with Carolyn behind him, his anxious eyes finding Brad and then an uninjured Alex. A look of relief passed over his face. “Thank God! We heard what sounded like a gunshot. Scared the hell out of -174-

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both of us.” His gaze moved past them to the shattered glass and his eyes widened, his glance moving back to Brad. “You’ve got to be kidding! The guy tried again?” When Brad nodded, he strode to the balcony and peered over. “Doesn’t look like he’ll go for a third time, that’s for sure.” “I’ve got to notify the police,” Alex said, suddenly feeling decidedly shaky as she moved out of Brad’s arms and toward the phone. “Don’t bother,” Kevin said. “They’re coming down the street right now.” Carolyn wrapped an arm around Alex. “You’re ice cold.” She grabbed the robe sitting on top of Alex’s suitcase and threw it over her shoulders. Alex smiled her thanks as she carefully set the gun she was still holding down on the dresser. Carolyn followed the movement. “You shot him?” she asked incredulously. Alex nodded. “I didn’t have much choice. He was armed.” Kevin leaned over the balcony and looked from side to side. “How did he get up this high? I can’t imagine him climbing over ten stories of balconies and I don’t see any fire escape.” Alex slipped her arms into the robe and belted it around her slim waist. “My guess is he had a room close to ours. It’s off season and the hotel was fairly empty. If he was a professional gunman for hire, he would have made it his business to find out the easiest way to access this room. The balconies are close together. If he was athletic enough, leaping from one to the other wouldn’t have been difficult.” “Unless you make a mistake,” Kevin said grimly, glancing downward once again. -175-

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“Then you’re dead,” Brad said quietly, fists clenched at his side. Just the thought of what could have happened made the dull ache in his head sharper. His glance strayed to the bed. If it hadn’t been for Alex’s quick thinking and clear head, he could very well have been the one dead. “You okay, Brad?” Kevin asked, eying his pale face. “Yeah,” Brad muttered, rubbing a hand across his forehead in an attempt to ease the pounding. Alex picked up the phone punching some numbers. “The front desk needs to know where to send the police.” Kevin wrapped an arm around Carolyn. “If the two of you are sure you’re okay, we’ll head back to our room and get dressed.” He grimaced. “Looks like none of us are going to get any more sleep.” Alex nodded, overhearing the conversation as she hung up. “The police are securing the area below. They’ll be up to talk to us as soon as they’re done.” “Okay, call me with an update as soon as you can. We’ll be waiting.” Carolyn reached over to hug Alex. “You don’t have to be so brave, you know.” Alex smiled. “I’m not brave, Carolyn. I’m just doing my job.” The other woman didn’t say any more but the look in her eyes told Alex she didn’t buy it. Brad waited until Kevin and Carolyn left and then grabbed Alex’s arm, pulling her into the warmth of the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind them. He tugged her close, holding her without speaking. He wasn’t sure if he was reassuring her or himself and, at the moment, he didn’t give a damn.

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“It’d be nice if I could breathe,” she mumbled against his bare chest. “Sorry.” He let her pull away slightly, gazing down at her. She met his eyes steadily but he knew her well enough now to see the shadows in her eyes and the faint hint of tension in those full lips. Lips he covered in a brief, hard kiss. She sighed and then looked up at him in exasperation as she bumped into the sink. “Pretty romantic spot you picked for necking, Norton.” His lips lifted. “At least it’s private. The police will be here any minute. Besides, it’s cold in there with the open door and rain.” He ran his fingers along her bare arm. “You sure you’re all right?” “As all right as I can be,” she answered honestly. “I’ve had to use my gun before, when I was on the police force. Doesn’t make it any more palatable, however.” She took a deep breath. “Brad, I’m beginning to think you should hire someone else for this job. I’ve always prided myself on my skills. My feelings for you are clouding my judgment. As you saw tonight, that can be deadly.” “No.” She felt a jab of irritation. “Stop being so stubborn. There are other investigators out here with just as much skill.” “But they aren’t you.” He tipped her chin up so their eyes met. “Alex, I’m not naïve. I know the risks. I knew them before I even approached you. A degree in criminal law served to knock the blinders from my eyes a long time ago.” “You don’t understand, Brad. With any other client, I would have checked the registry, scanned the parking lot, maybe even done a background check on the people occupying each side of this room.” She ran a hand through her thick curls. “I would have -177-

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reinforced that door. For God’s sake, I know how easy it is to jimmy a lock if you know what you’re doing.” He crossed his arms, leaning against the tile wall. “So if you did all of those things, you think it would have made a difference?” “It could have.” “And it as easily couldn’t have. Just cut the blame me stuff, Alex.” As he expected her green eyes darkened, began to smolder. “Listen, Bradley Norton, don’t you be telling me how to do my job or how I should feel.” He flicked a curl from her forehead. “Then don’t treat me like an idiot. We do this together. Agreed?” She stared him down but finally nodded. “Okay, but we do things my way.” She put a hand up when he began to speak. “That’s not open to negotiation. I’d like to keep both of us alive and I’m going to need all my skills to do that. Yours as well. Agreed?” she mimicked. He nodded, putting a hand out. When she took it, he pulled her against him again and thoroughly kissed her. “Very clever,” she murmured. “Just what I need, a sneaky partner.” They both jumped at the loud knock on the outside door. Alex tightened the belt on her robe. “It looks like the law has arrived.” When she opened the hall door, an extremely harried-looking night clerk stepped in followed by several police officers. Roy Clark came down the hall moments later accompanied by a man with a camera and what appeared to be someone from forensics according to the shirt he wore. -178-

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Something about Roy Clark reminded Alex of her uncle and that made her feel just slightly better. The clerk’s eyes widened at the scene that greeted him, the damage to the room along with the spattering of blood appearing to render him speechless. Roy Clark edged past him. “Everyone okay in here?” Brad wrapped an arm around Alex. “We’re not injured if that’s what you’re asking.” “I kind of figured when we got the call that you were involved, Miss Leahy, after what happened earlier.” He eyed Brad’s bandaged forehead. “Looks like our man wasn’t happy about not finishing what he started.” “Is he dead?” “As a doornail. The fall looks like it killed him, although we won’t be sure until the autopsy.” He moved to the side to allow more people in. “How about we let the detectives do their job and vacate the room? I’ve got some questions that need answers.” Alex nodded, rubbing a hand across her suddenly tired eyes. “As long as wherever we go has a pot of strong coffee.” “I think that can be arranged,” Roy said dryly. “I could use a cup myself.” “I’d also like to meet in something other than my bathrobe.” She grimaced, shivering as another blast of cool air wafted into the room. “No problem. We’ll meet downstairs in the lobby in, say, fifteen minutes.” He motioned toward the other officer. “Pete, you supervise here.” His glance strayed to the dresser and Alex’s revolver. “Got a permit for that?” “I do. And the skill to use it.” -179-

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He tossed a look toward the broken glass. “It appears so.” “I don’t make a habit of shooting people, Lieutenant Clark,” she said sharply. “The rules change when someone enters my room uninvited and armed.” “Listen, can’t the twenty questions wait until we get dressed and wake up?” Brad said, a slow burn starting in his gut. “They can,” Roy said evenly. He waved to his team, urging the still speechless desk clerk toward the door. “Gentlemen, let’s step outside for just a moment.” He turned back to the two of them. “I’m sure you know the rules, Miss Leahy. Please be quick and don’t touch anything. We’ll be outside waiting.” “We will,” Alex said, interpreting Brad’s simmering glare. After she closed the door she turned to him. “He’s only doing his job, Brad.” “Yeah. That doesn’t mean I have to like it.” Alex reached for a pair of jeans and a long sleeved shirt and began dressing. She looked up as Brad was buttoning his shirt. “I know who our intruder was.” His fingers stilled. “What?” “Renee White’s brother. The uncle who took her to the hospital after her son was shot. Ironic, considering he was the one who shot him.” Even after she explained, Brad still stood there frowning. “Instead of things becoming clearer, they’re muddier than before. Why would this guy set himself up as a hired gun and then blow his nephew away? Doesn’t make sense.” Alex expertly tucked her long curls in a quick pony tail. “No, but I’m sure he’s the one that was responsible. So it looks like you and I have a lot of investigating left to do, partner.” -180-

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“I hate the idea of breaking this news to Renee White. The woman has been tortured enough. Can you imagine how you would feel if you found out your own brother killed your son?” “We don’t have any proof of that yet, Brad. Only my intuition and that doesn’t count for much with the law.” “It sure as hell counts with me,” he muttered, glancing at the broken glass. His eyes found hers, the look intense. “I owe you, Alex. How do I repay someone who’s saved my life?” She slung her purse over a shoulder, a hint of devilment in her green eyes. “I’ll let you know when the time is right.” He caught her arm, his dark eyes boring into hers. “I mean it, Alex.” She nodded, opening the door. “So do I, Brad.” Roy Clark was waiting as they stepped into the hall. “The hotel has arranged for us to sit in the restaurant and to get you that pot of coffee you wanted, Miss Leahy. Please follow me.” “Is it permissible to call my family?” Brad asked grimly. Roy nodded. “It is.” Brad flipped open his cell phone calling his father while they made their way toward the dining room. They were on their second cup of coffee before Andrew and Maggie arrived. From the dark frown on Andrew’s face it was obvious he wasn’t in the best of humor. He held his temper long enough to pull a chair out for Maggie and then, still standing, ran his gaze over both Brad and Alex. “Are you two all right?”

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Brad nodded, knowing that look. It was a look that used to bring fear into a young boy’s heart. However this time it wasn’t directed at him but at the lieutenant instead. “I’d like to know why it is, officer, that one of your policeman wasn’t stationed at this hotel. My son could have been killed because of your incompetence!” Anger flitted across the other man’s face for a brief second. “I’m sorry you feel that way, sir,” he said evenly. Again it was Maggie who put a hand on Andrew’s, gently urging him down into the chair next to her. “Hush. You need to be giving the man a chance to explain.” “Or accuse one of us,” Brad said tightly, glancing at Alex. Roy Clark shook his head. “That is not my intention at all, Mr. Norton. It’s obvious this was a break-in. What I need to know is the why. Miss Leahy gave me some particulars earlier, but I’ve got a hunch there’s a whole lot more I don’t know.” He stopped speaking when one of his men walked in, handing him a wallet. “Found this on the victim, sir. Man’s name is Matt Fowler and he’s got a record. Fingerprints are on file. Address is bogus however. We just checked.” “Let me know if you find the next of kin. They’ll have to be notified.” “His sister lives in town,” Alex said, taking a long sip of the coffee in front of her. “Her name is Renee White.” “What?” Andrew snapped, his gaze shooting to her. Roy Clark’s eyes sharpened. “Care to tell me how you know this?” “I have my own way of obtaining information,” she said carefully. “I recognized his face. I’m fairly certain he is the one who -182-

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shot those two boys at the high school here in town last year. One of them was his nephew.” “He shot his own nephew!” Maggie repeated, eyes wide. Alex nodded. “There’s your why, Lieutenant. Brad and I were at his sister’s home yesterday afternoon. He obviously thought we were getting too close and decided he wasn’t going to run the risk of being discovered.” Roy Clark leaned back in his chair and eyes narrowed for a few minutes. “You realize we’ll have to check all this out.” “Of course. For the record, I awoke to the sound of him picking the lock on the balcony door. He was in the room before I could do anything and when he aimed at Brad, I shot him. The wound wasn’t lethal but he lost his balance and you know the rest.” “Then you believe he was the one who was responsible for those drive-by shootings you’ve been investigating?” Carolyn asked, beginning to connect the dots. “I think he was the hired gun.” Her glance swiveled back to the man sitting across from her. “I’d like to see the body.” His expression showed his surprise. “Why?” “Because we still don’t have the answers we need and I might be able to find them.” “By viewing a corpse?” “Perhaps.” He met her gaze steadily, silent for a few moments, and then nodded. “He’ll have been transported to the coroner’s by now. Give me an hour to pull all the pieces together, Miss Leahy, and then I’ll drive you down there. By then I might have a few more questions.” He pushed back his chair and stood, taking a last sip of his coffee. “Meet me in the lobby then if that works for you.” -183-

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Alex nodded. She was no stranger to police procedure and from the look in his eyes, she knew the lieutenant had more questions. Questions he didn’t want to ask in front of the group. And he wouldn’t want her to leave until he had answers. “I’ll see you then.” “We’ll see you then,” Brad corrected. He nodded, tossing some money on the table and strode toward the lobby but then turned back. “There are several reporters out front along with camera crews.” His glance encompassed the group. “Except for Miss Leahy and Mr. Norton, the rest of you may leave whenever you wish. If you need someone to escort you to your cars, please let me know and I’ll see that my men waylay the press.” “Thank you,” Kevin said. “That might not be such a bad idea.” “As far as the two of you,” he said, looking at Brad and Alex, “my team will be going over things for at least another hour or so. The management has assured me that you can remain here if you wish.” “I have a few questions myself,” Alex said looking up at him. “If it’s okay with you, we’ll meet back here?” He nodded, walking away. “Speaking of leaving, I’ve got to get home,” Carolyn said, rising and stifling a yawn. “I’ve cancelled office hours for today but I still have rounds to make at the hospital.” She put a hand on Brad’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re safe and sound.” Her gaze switched to Alex. “Both of you. Just keep it that way.” “Thanks for coming, Carolyn,” Brad said, reaching up to take her hand. “My cousin is a very, very lucky man.” “Just keep telling him that,” she smiled.

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Kevin rose to stand behind her. “I’ll go with you. I’ve already called Dad to let him know everything’s okay.” He caught Brad’s gaze. “You need me for anything, anything, you call.” “I will.” “Thank God you have this woman keeping an eye on you,” Kevin said, motioning toward Alex. “Pretty smart lady.” “She is at that,” Brad murmured. Kevin shook his head. “Never in my wildest imagination did I think this whole thing would get dangerous.” He glanced at Andrew. “I wonder if it’s worth it.” “It could be,” Andrew said, surprising all of them. “I wasn’t willing to buy into Ellie’s death being the result of some multi-state serial killer. Looks like I was wrong. If that’s the case, then someone else might end up being the next victim.” He glanced at his son. “I sure as hell wouldn’t want that on my conscience if there was a way to prevent it from happening.” Brad’s gaze shot to his father. Well, would wonders never cease? His father admitting he was wrong was a first. He ran suddenly tense fingers through his hair. They needed answers and they needed them now. Unfortunately, all they had was a dead man instead of someone who could have supplied some of those answers.” Carolyn crossed her arms, her brow furrowed. “If what you believe is true, and after tonight I’m on the bandwagon, then the danger is still there until you find who it is that hired this gunman.” “You’re right, Carolyn,” Alex said. “What’s frustrating is that for the life of me, I can’t figure out why an uncle would kill his own

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flesh and blood. The other women might have been hits but two sixteen-year-old boys?” “You truly believe they were killed by the same person?” Alex shrugged. “Looks like we need to do a whole lot more investigating before we have the answer to that one.” Carolyn yawned again and Kevin took her arm. “Let’s go before you fall asleep on your feet. Be careful, cousin.” “You know it.” “Bye Uncle Andrew, Maggie.” “Tell your father I’ll call him…soon,” Andrew said. Kevin’s brow lifted as he shot a quick look at Brad. “I’ll do that.” Alex glanced at her watch and stood. “I’d like to have a word with the desk clerk before we have to meet Lieutenant Clark.” “Alex, I’d like to speak with you privately for a moment,” Andrew said, rising. She raised a brow in surprise but nodded. “Why don’t you walk with me toward the lobby?” “Now wait a minute,” Brad growled, rising. “We’re in this together.” Alex caught his gaze and shook her head slightly. He got the message. “Stay here with Maggie. We’ll be right back.” Brad settled back in his chair, his expression dark as he watched them walk away, putting a hand to his forehead in an attempt to ease the ache. Maggie reached into her purse and palmed some white pills. “Want some aspirin for that headache?” He turned to her and then lifted his lips in a crooked grin. “Why is it you always know what I need when I need it?” -186-

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“Because I love you.” He swallowed the pills to hide the emotion. What would he have done without this woman? She and his aunt had been his mainstay growing up. He eyed her speculatively, suddenly realizing how unusual it was for her to accompany his father anywhere. At least as far as he knew it was. “My father seems to be relying on you a lot more than he used to. Taking your advice, listening when you tell him to shut up. Pretty impressive.” Maggie’s blush was faint although her blue eyes snapped. “I never tell your father to shut up!” He rubbed his aching head and eased into a more comfortable position. “No, you wouldn’t. Personally, I think you’re too good for him but maybe I don’t give him the credit he deserves. After all, maybe he’s finally realizing what a special person you really are, Maggie Sullivan.” The blush was more pronounced this time. “He loves you, Brad. And it scares him. Really scares him. He turned to me and I didn’t have the heart not to be there for him.” Brad felt the familiar anger and shoved it back. “You’ve always been there for him. And me.” She reached forward and squeezed his hand, her blue eyes pleading. “I’ve never seen him so shaken as when he got that call from Alex. He was so afraid to care, really care, for all those years. Afraid that you would be taken from him just as your darlin’ mother was. He had convinced himself that if he didn’t care he couldn’t be hurt.” She sighed, shaking her head. “I can’t begin to tell you the number of arguments we had over that very subject.” She smiled wryly. “It’s a wonder he didn’t fire me long ago.”

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He leaned back in his chair eying the woman across from him. He remembered the day his aunt had taken him to live with her. He could still see Maggie’s tear stained face in the window, waving a handkerchief as they drove away. That image had stayed with him for a long time. “Why did you let me leave all those years ago, Maggie? I loved my aunt but you were my mother.” He took her hand in his. “I missed you for a long time after I left.” Tears filled her eyes. “You can’t know how much it tore me apart to see you go, laddie. But I couldn’t get through to Andrew. I couldn’t get him to see what he was doing to you. Your aunt and I had long talks about it. Finally she took matters into her own hands as was her way.” She brushed the tears away. “Himself wouldn’t talk to her for long months afterward but he allowed her to take you. I think he knew it was for the best.” “Did he miss me?” he asked and then immediately regretted asking the question he had always wanted to ask. Afraid he couldn’t face the answer. “He did, more than you will ever know. He didn’t say it in words but I saw him in your room holding that baseball mitt more than once. He became more rigid, more unbending after you left. He was hurting, love, and yet there was nothing I could do to help him.” “Do you think he has it in him to really change?” “Aye, I think he does. Do you?” she asked pointedly. He rubbed a hand across his forehead. “I can try, Maggie.” She glanced toward the lobby. “I’d try hard, laddie. That young lady out there has family written all over her. She’ll be good for you, love.” Her eyes lit with amusement. “I’d be betting you won’t

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be having a choice but to reconcile with your father if she has anything to say about it.” “I won’t argue with you there,” he replied, his gaze following hers. Yet something was telling him they better keep their eyes open and their guard up or there wouldn’t be that happily ever after Maggie was hinting at. And, for just a moment, a cold chill trickled down his spine. Maybe Alex wasn’t the only one with premonitions he thought.

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Chapter Nine Alex followed Andrew out, stopping just short of the hotel desk. She raised a brow questioningly, looking up at him. “I’ve thought of something that I wanted to run by you first before I mentioned it to Brad,” he began. “The boy can get pretty fired up on occasion. That, he inherited from my side of the family.” “Along with your jaw and determination,” she added. His gaze flew to hers. “Thank you,” he said simply. “I don’t know if this bit of information means anything but my sister knew Anna Ferron. Very well. Even though there was an age difference, they were both active in some of the same national committees and became friends. Got together at least once or twice a month for the past ten years or so. There were occasions when my wife and I were first married that we would socialize with Ellie and Anna at various black tie affairs. Anna’s parents doted on her and Ellie admired the fact that she remained unspoiled despite her wealth.” His eyes softened at the memory. “I had no chance against those three women. They enjoyed letting me know in no uncertain terms that I was old-fashioned and they wouldn’t tolerate it. Those were some of the best years of my life.” He shook his head. “I know you’re searching for a link and this might be worth investigating.”

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“It is,” Alex said thoughtfully. “Now we just have to find a connection between those two and all the rest. It won’t be easy.” “Somehow I don’t think you’re one to shy away from a challenge, my dear.” She smiled wryly. “Thanks for those encouraging words.” “I say it like I see it.” “That much I already know,” she said reaching up to kiss his cheek. “Thanks for being here. It meant a lot to Brad.” “I hope so.” He sighed. “I’ve made a mess of things. Thank God I’ve been given a second chance. I intend to make the most of it.” “I’m glad.” Alex gazed at him for a long moment. His thoughts were coming in loud and clear probably because she was so close to his son. She smiled. “Yes, Brad does know I’m a very good investigator and yes, he thinks I’m pretty hot.” Andrew’s eyes widened in surprise and then realization flashed across his face. “Ah, the clairvoyance. “Does my son know how adept you are at reading thoughts?” “He does.” “Then he should be afraid. He should be very afraid.” She burst into laughter. “You know, Andrew Norton, I think I like you.” “The feeling is mutual, Alex Leahy. Now I better get back to Maggie and Brad. The woman dotes on the boy. He’s probably had about enough.” Alex’s lips twitched. “I’m betting you’re right,” she said. After he left, she turned, walking toward the front desk. “Can I help you?” -191-

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The desk clerk was not the same irritated one who had accompanied the police earlier and she was grateful for that. She reached inside her purse and handed him a business card. “I’m Alex Leahy, a private investigator, and I’d like to ask you a few questions if you could spare a moment.” “Certainly. Awful thing that happened. We’ve never had a break in of any sort at this hotel and for it to end in death…” He shook his head, frowning. “Was the victim registered?” “Not under the name they found in his wallet. At least that’s what I heard Joe, the night desk clerk, tell the police.” “Do you have the names of the people who were registered on each side of the room that was broken into?” He nodded. “There was an older couple on one side and two young women on the other. That lieutenant already asked about those rooms but he got called away in the middle of our conversation.” “How about above or below?” He pulled up the reservations on his computer and scanned them. “The room above is registered to a Mr. Thomas Smith and the one directly below to a Mr. Otto Sutton.” “When were the rooms reserved?” He flipped through another screen. “Mr. Smith’s reservation was confirmed last week. He’s part of a small convention that is in town at present.” His fingers tapped the keys. “Mr. Sutton just reserved last night.” “At what time?” “Just after seven p.m.” -192-

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She gave him her most beguiling smile. “I know this is a strange request, Mr…?” “David,” he said warmly. “I know this is a strange request, David, but do you think you could ring Mr. Sutton’s room? I’m very interested to see if he answers his phone.” A flash of doubt entered his eyes. “I really don’t think it would be appropriate to bother a guest this early in the morning.” “If my hunch is correct, David, I don’t think you’ll be bothering anyone.” His eyes widened as her words hit home. He picked up the phone and tapped in the extension, frowning when the phone continued to ring. He slowly replaced the receiver. “There’s no answer.” “I assume you have a master key?” About ten minutes later Alex stood in the hall along with David and Lieutenant Clark. Brad joined them just as David knocked several times and then unlocked the door. Roy Clark put a hand up stopping him from moving forward and drew his gun. They waited while he entered and moments later he motioned for them to come in as well. “Do you need me anymore, Lieutenant?” David asked, his gaze nervously scanning the room. “I have to get back to the desk.” “No, but do me a favor and make sure you keep the press downstairs right now. I don’t need that headache as well.” “Will do.” Brad and Alex waited just inside the room while Lt. Clark drew on a pair of plastic gloves and methodically examined the small

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space, looking under the bed and even the mattress as well as every drawer. “Looks like your instincts are correct, Miss Leahy.” He picked up a small plastic card on the dresser. “A fake ID complete with name and picture.” He eyed the ashtray overflowing with butts. “It appears he waited for the two of you for a while.” He walked over and flipped open the suitcase lying on the floor, carefully rifling through it. “Not much here. A couple of changes of clothing and the usual personal stuff.” His eyes found Alex’s. “Our man appears to have had everything planned. Room location, an alias and his target.” He flipped open another case and whistled softly, lifting out several dangerous looking pistols with what appeared to be a silencer. “And a pro to top it off from the look of these weapons.” “Guess I was luckier than I thought,” Brad said, catching Alex’s eye. “We both were.” Roy flicked open his cell. “Pete, get the crew up to Room 405. It’s a good possibility we’ve found our victim’s abode.” He turned back to Brad and Alex. “Think the two of you could give me a little more time?” Alex nodded. “As long as it’s on the way to the morgue.” A hint of a frown appeared on his forehead. “You really think that’s necessary? We’ve got the man’s license and fingerprints. It shouldn’t be too difficult to find out who hired him, especially if it’s true his sister lives here.” She shook her head. “I wouldn’t be too sure of that, Lieutenant. You yourself said he was a professional.” “All right, it sure can’t do any harm.” He smiled slightly. “I’m not one to believe in this clairvoyance stuff but there are those who do. Maybe I’ll become a convert.” -194-

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“I’m not looking for converts, Lieutenant, just the truth.” The hard lines on the man’s face softened as his lips curved slightly, his glance finding Brad’s. “She always this tough?” Brad slipped an arm around Alex. “It appears so.” A touch of approval flashed in the older man’s eyes. “Then let’s go.” *** He finished his third scotch, draining the half-full glass with one swallow. Damn it! Where was the son of a bitch? He hit speed dial on his phone for about the tenth time, throwing it across the room when there was no answer. Something wasn’t right. The man might be a pain in the ass but he was a reliable pain in the ass. Besides, he knew he wouldn’t get paid for the hits he had assured him were necessary unless he called him when it was finished. It was a routine they both felt comfortable with. He because he knew the job was done and his hired gun because it was the only way he got his money. He wandered to the picture window, taking in the starlit night absently. It hadn’t been smart hiring Fowler for that first hit but he had been desperate. Only he hadn’t given the repercussions much thought. He had set himself up for blackmail and Matt Fowler had never let him forget it. His hand tightened around the empty glass he was still holding. It was inevitable he would have to deal with him at some point. He was a man who didn’t like loose ends and he had planned his life so very carefully. No one, no one, was going to mess things up now.

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He took a deep breath, willing himself to relax. He was worrying where there probably was no need. They had an understanding, he and Matt. The man didn’t have an ounce of decency in him but then again he didn’t hire him for his ethics. He splashed another dash of scotch in his glass, catching sight of himself in the mirror pleased with the reflection. The carefully styled hair, the tanned skin and the designer suit all spoke of class and success. It was an image he worked very hard at maintaining. He contemplated the view once again and then bent and retrieved his phone. No point in spending the rest of the night alone. A few more drinks and some sex would do wonders in allaying his fears, at least for the moment. After that… his fingers tightened on the phone again. After that, he would deal with whatever he needed to. Suddenly the reflection in the mirror wasn’t so attractive and he frowned, noticing the faint lines around his mouth and eyes. Age wasn’t something he intended to give in to, he thought, punching the numbers viciously. He was single, rich and the women swarmed around him. His ego wouldn’t allow them to chase him for his money alone. When a feminine voice answered on the other end, his expression relaxed into the practiced smile but the eyes facing him in the mirror remained a cold, icy and flat blue.

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Chapter Ten “He isn’t very pretty,” the coroner said bluntly. “Crushed skull, broken neck and various lacerations and scrapes, not to mention the bullet wound in his right shoulder.” He moved to the table, glancing at Roy Clark. “Death was due to the fall as you suspected. The bastard didn’t suffer. Didn’t have time.” He threw the sheet back and exposed his chest and head. Alex fought not to react. The face was grotesquely swollen on one side and there was blood still seeping from it. Yet, in spite of that, she could see the resemblance to Madeline. The same shape of eyes and hair color. Yet the mouth, even in death, with all the swelling and bruising was thin and mean. “Big man, about two fifty. Has had his nose broken once or twice. Has some nasty scars that look like old knife wounds as well.” Alex moved toward the body, closing her eyes. As if on cue, all of them fell silent. A series of expressions flitted across her face, her slender body swaying just slightly. Brad moved toward her but stopped when she began to speak in a low, almost monotone voice. “He hated his brother-in-law, Renee’s husband. She had always been an easy mark for money until she married him. He resented the relationship the man had with his son. Actually hated Justin because of it. His own father kicked him out of the house -197-

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after the third time he landed in jail.” She moved closer to the head of the table, eyes still firmly closed. “Justin’s death served two purposes. To cause his brother-in-law pain and to throw off the scent. The other boy’s death was…just for fun,” she finished, her voice, even with her eyes closed, hardening. “What scent?” Roy asked. She moved again placing a hand on the dead man’s arm grimacing at the feel of death but remaining connected, pulling what she could from the aura surrounding his body. “The other shootings were for hire. This was to protect himself. Someone was getting close, asking questions. He wasn’t stupid and he liked his lifestyle, liked the attention women gave him when he flashed all that money. He knew how to set up the hits and he was good at it. Big money good at it. He was psychotic enough to be proud of his skill. It bothered him that someone had followed a path he had been sure he hadn’t left. It was time for a diversion.” Her voice changed, grew thick with emotion. “He enjoyed killing those young men. Enjoyed the thrill and revenge factor.” She drew in a deep breath, her expression tightening with anger. “God, what a bastard!” “Who paid him?” Brad asked grimly. She frowned, concentrating and then her eyes snapped open and she turned toward the three of them. “Russell Ferron.” “Who?” Roy Clark asked. “It’s a rather long story, lieutenant,” Brad said. “One we still don’t have all the pieces to. How about we discuss it somewhere else?” Roy nodded. “Thanks, George. Keep him on ice until I figure out what we’re going to do with him.” -198-

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“No problem.” He flipped the sheet back over the body. “Still have some testing to do but the cause of death is pretty straightforward. Oh, by the way,” he said, glancing at Roy Clark, “I’ve got something Pete said to give to you when you came. Already dusted it for fingerprints. Nothing except for our dead man.” His lips curled as he walked toward his desk. “Was tempted to keep the thing for myself. Good chance I’ll never own something so fancy.” He pulled open a drawer and reached in, lifting out a small plastic bag handing it over. Roy opened it and pulled out the ring it contained. “A little too gaudy for my taste but it’s a sure bet it’s worth a pretty penny.” “Can I see that, Lieutenant?” He nodded, dropping it into Alex’s palm. She lifted it up to the light and the diamonds glittered brilliantly. The visions began to gain clarity as she allowed them in. The ring being held by Anna Ferron as she sat waiting…those cruel lips smiling as he removed it from her lifeless fingers moments later. She took a deep breath, stilling the anger inside of her, and handed the ring back. “It’s the same ring, isn’t it?” Brad said. “The one Anna Ferron had in her possession that day?” She nodded. “It’ll be interesting to see if there is a record of an order for that particular ring at Steadman’s and who placed it. If it is one of Fowler’s aliases, then that would give us a connection however tenuous.” “You sure it was this ring?” Roy asked, dropping it back in the plastic bag. “Positive.” “Then I’ll follow up on it. Let’s go.” -199-

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Fifteen minutes later, they were at police headquarters. Roy brought both of them in some coffee and then settled across the table from them. “Care if I record this?” Alex glanced at Brad and then nodded. For the next half hour he asked both of them specific questions. When he finally switched off the tape, he sat there for a moment deep in thought. “Miss Leahy,” he began. “Alex,” she interrupted impatiently. “Alex, I think you’re on the right track. Problem is, what you’ve got so far is intangible. Not enough proof, yet, to even investigate the man. I intend to change that as we begin our case, but tying Fowler to this Russell Ferron is only the beginning. If what you believe is true, you still don’t have a connection to those other killings. In addition, there’s no clear motive for having his wife murdered.” He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, eyeing her steadily. “You didn’t want a convert but you’ve got one in me, Alex. My years of experience tell me that there is a hell of a lot more here. There’s got to be a tie in somewhere.” Brad reached inside his wallet and handed him a card. “Alex has an uncle who is chief of police in Charlotte by the name of Brian Delaney. He might be able to help with those missing pieces. On top of that, here is my card with my cell and home phone on it.” “I suppose it wouldn’t do any good to recommend the two of you return home and let the police handle this?” Brad lifted a hand to the bandage on his forehead and glanced at Alex. “No, it wouldn’t. Without proof, you’re dead in the water

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and I’ve got a feeling that we’re the ones who are going to have to provide that proof.” Roy stood offering his hand to both of them. “I’ll keep in touch and I’d like you to do the same.” His gaze slid to Alex. “If this Russell Ferron is capable of hiring someone to commit a series of murders then don’t assume he won’t hire someone else. It’s obvious he feels the two of you have information he doesn’t want made public. Finding out what that is might just go a long way to solving this whole thing.” “Thanks for all your help, lieutenant,” Alex said sincerely. “What there was of it,” he replied, shaking her hand firmly. “Has someone contacted Renee White?” “The sister?” She nodded. “I’ll do that personally.” “I would appreciate you keeping my name out of the limelight if you can. It will only impede our investigation.” “I’ll do my best but the local press has already been bombarding us with calls. My suggestion is that you get out of town as quickly as you can.” A thought suddenly occurred to Brad. “By the way, where is my car?” “It’s in the impound lot. After our investigation, it’s going to need some repairs. If you authorize them, I’ll see to it.” Brad nodded. “Then I guess we’ll have to rent something. Got any recommendations?” “I’ve got some connections. Let me see what I can do.” He drove them back to the hotel, escorting them passed the various reporters and camera crew. Light bulbs flashed and -201-

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questions were shot at them as they hurried to the elevator. As the doors slid shut, Alex leaned against the wall, grimacing. “So much for the story dying out.” Roy shook his head. “Not in this town. Big news here.” While Alex finished packing, Brad grabbed the phone book and flipped through the yellow pages. He scanned the rental agencies and then stopped, a thought occurring to him. He glanced over at Alex and then flipped his cell phone open and moved toward the hall. “Do those connections you have also involve new car dealers?” he murmured to Roy who was waiting outside the room. “They do with this particular dealership,” Roy said, pointed to a large ad in the phone book. “Why?” “Inside joke,” Brad said. “Should I ask for anyone?” “Steve Clark.” Brad raised a brow. “Relative?” “Nephew.” A few minutes later he hung up, satisfied. “Thanks, I owe you one.” “Wish I could stick around to see the reaction,” Roy said, his lips curling in amusement as they moved back into the room. Brad was saved from replying as Alex zipped her suitcase closed. She took one last look around shuddering slightly as the cool wind slid into the space from the gaping hole in the glass doors. The debris had been removed but blood still stained the walls and floor. “I’m ready if you two are.” Brad grabbed his own duffle bag, casually throwing it over his shoulder. “I’m more than ready to get out of this place.” He leaned -202-

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down and lifted Alex’s as well. “I told my father and Maggie we’d stop by before we left. Their room is down the hall.” The lieutenant walked with them on his way to the elevator, stopping when Andrew opened the door to Brad’s knock, obviously waiting for them. “I gather things are settled?” he asked, motioning for them to enter. “As settled as they can be without answers,” Brad replied dryly. Andrew’s gaze shifted to Roy Clark. “So what are you doing to get those answers?” “I’ll leave your son and Alex to tell you that. I’ve got things to attend to.” He focused on the two of them. “I would appreciate you keeping me informed of anything you find worth telling.” “We will,” Alex said. “And thank you.” He took the hand she offered and squeezed it. “Just watch your step.” He lifted the card he still held in his hands. “That’s direct from your uncle by the way.” “So you didn’t take what I said at face value is that it, Lieutenant?” Alex asked raising a brow. “Wouldn’t be worth a damn if I didn’t know how to play the game, young lady.” “I guess you wouldn’t. At least now you know we aren’t some kind of Bonnie and Clyde.” “If I thought that, you wouldn’t be leaving,” he said simply. “Good luck and stay safe.” “We intend to,” Brad said firmly. They waited until he moved down the hall before walking into the room.

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“I have a feeling if anyone can help us with this he can,” Brad said, closing the door. “I hope so because right now I feel like we’re spinning in circles,” Alex said, frowning. Maggie moved toward Brad, her eyes anxiously scanning first him and then Alex. “I’ve been imagining all sorts of awful things. It’s good to see the two of you are in one piece.” “How about those answers,” Andrew said impatiently. By the time they were done relaying what had happened, both Maggie and Andrew were visibly concerned. “Good God, Brad! Whatever this man is hiding it must be big for him to have planned six murders.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Granted, I never liked Russell Ferron. Somewhat of a pompous ass if you want the truth. Yet hiring a hit man?” “What was his wife like?” Alex asked. Andrew’s eyes grew thoughtful. “Nice lady. Classy. Too classy for him but it was obvious she was head over heels in love with the man. Even when they were first married there were rumors about his extramarital affairs. Either she didn’t know about them or she chose to ignore the innuendoes.” “Did he come from money?” Andrew snorted a laugh. “Liked to let people think he did. Anna told Ellie he didn’t want to invite his parents to the wedding. Said the trip was too far for them. She insisted and discovered his father was a postman and his mother an elementary school teacher. Nice people, according to what she told my sister. She couldn’t understand why he was so ashamed of them.” “That should have given her a clue as to the kind of man she was marrying,” Brad said dryly. -204-

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“Sometimes people deeply in love aren’t very smart,” Andrew answered, his eyes locking with Brad’s. Brad read the message and nodded. “You may be right,” Brad returned, not missing the message. “I’m thinking it’s time for all of us to go back home and let the law do what they do,” Maggie insisted. “We’re not going back,” Brad said, helping himself to a cup of coffee sitting on the dresser. “I was afraid of that. Love, don’t you think this matter should be left up to the police?” “Probably, but other than Lieutenant Clark and Alex’s uncle, I doubt anyone is going to jump at assisting us unless we find something concrete evidence wise.” “How are you going to get evidence even the police don’t believe is there?” “By following our killer’s path. Backwards.” Alex nodded. “Next stop is Huntington, West Virginia.” “The college student?” Andrew asked. Brad looked up in surprise. “How did you know that?” A hint of a flush stained Andrew’s cheeks. “I figured if you and Kevin believed so strongly in this then maybe I ought to do a little research on my own.” Brad felt an unexpected rush of emotion that he wasn’t altogether happy about. His father was obviously making an effort to forge a relationship between the two of them. He just wasn’t sure he was ready to meet him halfway yet. “Do me a favor, Andrew,” Alex said. “If you think of anything else that might be helpful, please call my cell phone or Brad’s. Maggie has both numbers.” -205-

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He nodded. “I’ll do my best, young lady,” he said extending a hand toward her. She ignored it, surprising him by giving him a firm hug, instead. “Keep working at it,” she whispered. “He’ll come around.” His eyes widened slightly then he smiled. Still keeping an arm around her, he turned to his son. “It seems we Norton men tend to be drawn toward strong women. Don’t let her get away,” he finished, his eyes locking with Brad’s. “I don’t intend to.” “Good. Just do me a favor and don’t try to play Rambo or Clyde.” Brad’s eyes lit with amusement for the first time. “Didn’t even know you knew who Rambo was.” “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, son, and a hell of a lot I don’t know about you. Guess we’ll just have to work at finding out about each other.” “Guess we will.” Maggie hugged him hard and long and then turned to Alex and did the same. “Watch out for each other, you hear me!” Alex felt the connection as Maggie embraced her. Felt the link between two women who loved the same man and the sweet heredity of Ireland in their background. From the expression in Maggie’s eyes she sensed it as well. “It's fate that my boy found a fine Irish lass to put him in his place,” Maggie said, wiping the moisture from her eyes. “Especially when his father has the same,” Andrew responded, putting an arm around her shoulders and drawing her back against him. “Let them be on their way, Maggie.” -206-

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“It's hell isn’t it?” Brad said, noting the fondness in his father’s expression. “What?” his father asked. “Having a woman know what you’re going to do before you do it.” His father nodded. “Worst part is I don’t mind so much anymore.” “Then God help us both,” Brad retorted, opening the door. He let a sharp breath out when Alex shoved an elbow in his stomach going by. “See the two of you later.” He closed the door behind him and caught up with her. She looked at him, her lips tilting mockingly. “Not so hard to relate to your father after all, is it?” He shook a finger at her. “You trying to manipulate me?” “No. I am manipulating you. It’s what I do best.” He rolled his eyes. “Then I repeat, God help me.” They walked passed the public elevator and the few yawning guests waiting for it and around the corner to the service one as Roy had instructed them. It let them out in a narrow hallway leading toward the loading dock in the back. A uniformed officer was waiting, opening the door for both of them, his gaze finding Brad’s over Alex’s head. “The lieutenant said to tell you your ride is waiting and the paperwork is complete.” He handed Brad a clipboard. “Sign on those spots and you’re set to go.” Brad took a few moments to read what he was signing then handed them back to the officer along with a check.

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“Tell the lieutenant thanks,” he said, picking up his suitcase again, stepping aside for Alex to walk down the steps into the bright sunshine. “By the way,” the young man called, straight faced, “the lieutenant said to tell you not to break any speed limits.” Alex glanced at him. “Why on earth would we…” Her voice trailed off as she stepped onto the parking lot pavement. A brand new cherry red Mustang GT convertible was parked at the curb. While the officer handed Brad the keys and he stuffed their luggage in the trunk, Alex walked slowly toward the car. She ran a hand along the white leather interior, unexpected tears stinging her eyes. “You rented this?” she asked. “Nope. Bought it.” Her green eyes grew soft, swimming. “Brad, it's beautiful!” “Then why the tears?” he asked, reaching down to brush one away. “Because you’re finally letting yourself go, letting yourself do something big on the spur of the moment and for me. That makes it even more special.” “Special enough to let me drive first?” In one swift motion, she palmed the keys he held. “In your dreams!” Laughing he slid into the passenger side just as the engine roared to life with a very satisfying rumble. She fastened her seat belt and stretched. “I’m not even going to ask what this costs. You can afford it.” She leaned over and kissed him long and hard. “Ready, Clyde?”

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“As ready as I can be, Bonnie,” he murmured, fingering a red curl. “Just watch the speed, okay.” She put her foot on the gas. “Let them catch me,” she said wickedly. She sped around the front of the hotel, waving defiantly at the reporters and camera crew who were still standing in the parking lot. “Eat my dust!” she muttered, gunning the engine. Fortunately it was still early and the roads were relatively quiet as she sped away. “They’ll follow you know.” She nodded negotiating a turn. “Won’t matter. They won’t catch us.” She leaned back in the plush leather, spots of color high on her cheeks and eyes glimmering with excitement. “Nothing like the chill of the wind to knock the cobwebs away.” “Or attract every cop in the area with that hair blowing,” he teased, enjoying the picture she made with her copper hair glinting in the sunlight and just a hint of freckles under her creamy skin. It was well worth the price he had paid for the car, he thought. She was right, just a week ago he never would have thought of buying a vehicle sight unseen, let alone one as impractical as this. She had changed him and he was beginning to like it. Alex glanced over at him, smiling. “You feeling okay?” He nodded. “Maggie gave me a couple of aspirin awhile ago. Headache's almost gone.” “She’s special, Brad.” “Yeah, I know. If it hadn’t been for her, growing up in that house would have been more hell than it was.” She flicked him a look. “You have to meet him halfway you know.” -209-

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“You sound like Maggie.” “Maybe that’s because we both love you. Very much.” The frown eased from his forehead. “Are you manipulating me again?” He frowned ferociously. She laughed. “Is it working?” “Maybe.” “She’s very much in love with him.” He raised a brow. “You read her mind?” “I didn’t have to. It’s written all over her.” “The man I knew growing up would never consider a relationship with the staff.” “The man you grew up with has changed, Brad.” She glanced over at him. “He hurt you, more than any child deserves to be hurt emotionally. Yet he was smart enough to let first Maggie and then your aunt give you their love and the attention you deserved. That has to mean something to you.” “It does, but that doesn’t mean I can just forgive and jump into a close father-son relationship. I’ve got enough of the old man in me to take it slowly. Maybe then it’ll mean more.” She smiled, reaching over to run a hand along his lean cheek. “You’re pretty smart, you know that?” “Smart enough to know that unless you slow down we’re going to get that ticket Roy Clark spoke of,” he warned, glancing at the speedometer. “Spoilsport,” she grumbled, easing back on the gas pedal. “Okay, change of subject. Let’s review what we’ve got.” They spent the next several minutes tossing ideas back and forth.

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“We’re missing something. It’s right in front of us and we’re missing it,” Alex said, putting a hand up to brush a stray copper curl away from her eyes. After a quick stop at the hospital to remove Brad’s bandage, they were on their way once again. “See that wasn’t so painful, was it?” Alex teased. He touched his newly-bandaged forehead. “Easy for you to say.” The teasing light in her eyes vanished. “It could have been a worse. A lot worse. I only wish I had more control over my clairvoyance. Sometimes everything is crystal clear and other times no matter how hard I concentrate there’s nothing,” she finished in frustration. “So you don’t trust your instincts enough to do your job without the added advantage of your inborn talent? Funny, I thought you were more sure of yourself that that.” Fire sparked in her eyes just as he knew it would. “If that comment was supposed to tick me off, you succeeded in spades.” He met her gaze steadily. “It was.” The fire changed to startled surprise and then she laughed. “It scares me that you know me so well already.” She changed lanes and relaxed back against the seat again. “Alright, Mr. Smarty, what are your instincts telling you?” “As a matter of fact, something my father said got me thinking. Whatever Ferron is hiding must be really big. You don’t hire a hit man to cover your previous or present indiscretions. Especially when you don’t have a prenuptial agreement. Whether one or more of those victims had information about something he didn’t want known, murder is taking things just a little too far. The man had -211-

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his money and his prestige and it sounds like he didn’t do much to hide those affairs.” Alex guided the car onto the freeway ramp, accelerating. “Then maybe he’s involved in something illegal and someone, his wife, your aunt, or maybe this law student found out about it. Being an uncaring bastard is one thing, spending time in jail is another. Couldn’t wear his fancy suits behind bars.” “His money could buy a hell of a lot of silence. Someone has something on him that would do more than put him in front of a judge. My guess is that something could land him on death row.” “Conspiracy to commit murder could do that.” “Bingo.” He glanced at the passing scenery for a moment. “Whatever it is, it had to start with these first two victims.” “We’ve got a time frame of two years ago,” she said thoughtfully. “I guess it’s as good a starting point as we’re going to get. I’ll make some calls to people I know and see what they can come up with regarding what Ferron and his wife were involved in at that point and time.” Brad pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and punched in some numbers, glancing at Alex as he waited for an answer. “Maybe Miguel can give us some insight into this mess.” Alex listened with interest to the one-sided conversation and it was some fifteen minutes later before Brad disconnected the call. “Rosa’s fine,” he said, answering the unspoken question in her eyes. “Miguel called her fat and sassy so I’ve got a feeling she wasn’t around. Only about three more weeks to go now.” He smiled, tucking the phone in his pocket again. “The man is nervous and he won’t admit it.” “Your time will come, Norton,” she taunted. -212-

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“Don’t know if I’m ready for that yet.” “Most men aren’t.” He captured one of her hands, rubbing his thumb along the soft skin. “The problem is I’m not sure what kind of father I’d make. Didn’t have much of a role model.” She snatched her hand away. “Get over it, Brad. That chip on your shoulder is going to cause major back problems if you don’t get rid of it.” Anger flashed in his eyes. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Alex,” he said tightly. “Do you love your uncle?” He wasn’t expecting the question. “Uncle Frank? Yeah, I suppose I do.” It took only a moment for him to realize what she was hinting at. “Okay, so I did have a role model of sorts.” He shook his head. “Pretty clever, Alex.” “No.” She shrugged. “It’s not that I’m playing Freud, Brad. Doing what I do, I’ve seen the dark side of life. Makes me grateful for what I have and who I love.” “Speaking of the dark side, Miguel had some interesting things to say.” “Like what?” “He thinks Fowler must have been blackmailing Ferron.” Alex raised a brow and shot him a quick look. “Why?” “Because, according to Miguel, hired guns usually don’t make a habit of doing multiple jobs for one person. Too risky unless they’ve got a vested interest worth the risk.” “In other words, hire me or I’ll turn you in?” “Exactly.”

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She frowned, nudging the car around a slow-moving truck. “What else did he say?” “A whole lot about Ferron. He’s been doing his own research. It seems our lawyer friend spent a lot of time in Marietta, Ohio about eight years ago, ostensibly related to research on a case he had taken.” “Let me guess,” she said dryly. “He managed to have a few extramarital affairs while he was there?” “Actually just one. Name of Wendy Rinaldi.” She glanced at him quickly. “That’s the name of the little boy that was killed.” He nodded. “His mother.” “Interesting. Maybe the mother was putting a little pressure of her own on Ferron if he was the father.” “Could be but then why kill the boy and not his mother?” “Guess we won’t know that until we do a little more investigating. Right now we’ve got to link this college student in all of this.” Brad nodded, relaxing back against the seat. “I might not have your gift of clairvoyance, Alex, but I’ve got a strong hunch we’re getting close. Too close for Ferron apparently.” He caught her gaze. “He won’t stop, you know. He’s not going to let anyone mess with that perfect life he’s built himself.” She took the exit ramp with a vengeance. “Then we better damn well find answers before then, hadn’t we.” “Then it looks like it’s time to put those powers of yours into overdrive. Because I’ve got a feeling we’re going to need all the extra help we can get.”

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Alex nodded secretly afraid that it might not make a difference. And that scared her to death.

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Chapter Eleven “Damn it all to hell!” Russell Ferron held the day-old newspaper in his clenched fist, fury causing his pulse to skyrocket. Pacing the room, he read the article again. MAN DIES FROM FALL AT LOCAL HOTEL A man plunged to his death early this morning at the downtown Hilton Inn. Just after four a.m. police were called after several guests heard what sounded like loud gunshots and broken glass. The victim was pronounced dead at the scene. According to emergency personnel, it appeared the victim had been shot and there is suspicion that could have precipitated the fatal fall. Although the police haven’t officially released any information as of yet, sources say that several people were questioned. They include a private investigator by the name of Alex Leahy and a Bradley Norton, owner of a security company in Charleston, South Carolina. Earlier yesterday evening, Mr. Norton had been the victim of what the police had believed, at the time, was a random shooting. However, there is a definite possibility the two are related. The dead man was also a guest at the hotel under what, at this point, appears to be an alias. Although he has been identified, his real name has not been released to the public pending notification of the family. -216-

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The stupid fool had gotten himself killed. He threw the newspaper on the desk, incensed. Either Fowler hadn’t been the professional he thought he had been or this Leahy broad was good. Very good. A tremor of fear trickled down his spine before he shoved it away. It was time he handled things on a more personal level. He reached inside the desk and palmed his pistol, lovingly caressing the .357 Magnum. He liked the feel of the cold metal in his hand, the enormous size of it. He spun the chamber expertly and then aimed. “Bang, bang, pretty lady,” he muttered. He tucked the gun in his briefcase and locked it. There was a time and place for everything and he had no intention of rushing blindly into the situation. Unlike the mentally slow and deceased Fowler, he knew how to take care of himself. There was no way that bitch would get the better of him and ruin everything he’d worked for, killed for. Pity, really. Nice looking broad. He’d like to have seen her naked before he eliminated her. He shrugged into his coat and grabbed his briefcase already anticipating the thrill of doing the job himself. Sometimes, he thought, locking his office door, it was better to rely on no one if you wanted things done right. And he wanted this done right. Exactly right. ***

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The campus was right in the middle of the historic town. Alex was enthralled by the big old houses that lined both sides of the main street. “You keep swiveling your head like that and you’re going to get dizzy,” Brad teased. She stuck her tongue out at him. “Oh, very professional, detective.” She ignored him, slowing down to admire a particularly graceful Georgian style home. “Look at the columns on that porch. I’d give my right arm to see the inside of that house.” An impatient horn sounded behind her. “All right, all right, I’m going,” she muttered. Her cell phone rang just as she swung the car into a vacant parking place in front of the college. “Hello.” “For someone who knows how to take care of herself, you’ve been in a hell of a lot of trouble, young lady.” She smiled. “But I got out of it, didn’t I?” Her uncle’s stern voice held a hint of humor. “You’ve always managed to do that. I still don’t like how dangerous this investigation has become. You watch your back, Alex.” “I always do, you know that. Anything new on the investigative front?” “Not much but I do have some information on that ring that was found on your victim.” “What kind of information?” “I was able to get hold of a Sandra Walters at Steadman’s. She was second-in-command and a very close friend of Anna Ferron’s.

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As it happens, she was the one who talked to the man who placed the order for that ring. Even described him in detail.” “Matt Fowler?” “You got it. Of course, he gave her one of his aliases. The day Anna Ferron was killed, Mrs. Walter’s left a message notifying him the ring was ready. It’s a pretty good bet that he called Anna personally and arranged for her to meet him, killed her and got himself a fancy ring in the process.” “She seem reliable?” “She did. What’s more, she was able to give our artist a fairly accurate description and the picture matches Fowler’s photograph almost to a tee.” “That’s terrific. It’s at least one piece of this very confusing puzzle.” “Got something else as well. Mrs. Walters also told me she overheard a conversation Anna had with her husband about a week before she was killed. Said they were arguing in hushed tones in one of the back rooms but as the conversation continued they got louder and louder. She heard Anna accuse Ferron of lying to her about wanting a family. She said she had proof and she would tell all of his fancy friends how he had deceived her. She said Ferron was furious when he left and it was obvious her friend had been crying, she said, when she finally emerged.” “Did Anna say anything to her about the conversation?” “Not in so many words, although she told me it was obvious she was really upset. She made several long distance phone calls immediately afterward and left abruptly in the middle of the afternoon which was very unusual.” “You have those phone records?” -219-

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“Already ahead of you. On the day in question, she made two twenty minute phone calls to a Wendy Fox in…” “Marietta, Ohio.” There was a brief pause. “Are you showing up your old uncle?” She glanced at Brad. “No way. What I am doing is connecting the dots and they’re going together very nicely. I’ll bet this woman’s maiden name was Rinaldi. In fact, I’m sure of it. If you discover anything else you think will help, call me on my cell. And thanks.” “Alex, you’ve got whoever this is running scared,” her uncle said sternly. “Frightened criminals are the most dangerous. Remember that.” “I will.” “Keep safe, love,” he finished gruffly, disconnecting the call. Alex slowly flipped the phone closed, her eyes misting. She took a deep breath and filled Brad in as they walked toward the college office. He remained silent until she was finished, frowning. “Question is, what did Anna Ferron find that would convince her that her husband genuinely didn’t want a family?” He stopped suddenly, the frown disappearing. “The bastard had a vasectomy. It’s the only thing that makes sense.” “Why would he do that? There are other ways to prevent a pregnancy besides resorting to such drastic measures, especially when your wife wants children and is bound to find out sooner or later.” “It would explain his refusal to cooperate with the fertility workup his wife wanted.” Alex shook her head. “Could be, but I keep returning to the fact that there was no prenuptial agreement. Even if Anna found out -220-

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her husband did have a vasectomy and decided to divorce him, he stood to walk away a very rich man. No motive once again.” “It’s there somewhere. Buried beneath all this other stuff, it’s there.” Their conversation was interrupted as they walked through the double doors and into the foyer of the main office at the campus. A smiling young receptionist greeted them her gaze moving from Alex to Brad and staying there. “Hi, I was wondering if you could help us?” he said, flashing a smile. “We’re looking for some information regarding a former student.” She returned the smile, flushing slightly. “I can help you depending on how former we’re talking.” “About two years ago.” She turned to her computer. “What is the student’s name?” “Corey Johnson.” Her hands stilled on the keyboard. “Do you know this student personally?” she asked carefully. “We know that he was killed, if that’s what you’re asking,” Brad said. The girl visibly relaxed. “It was awful. We had English and Statistics together and I even was at a few parties he was at.” She flashed a glance at Alex. “Are you guys the police or something? Because if you are, I already told them everything I knew back when it happened.” “Something like that,” Alex said, digging in her purse and handing her a card. “Actually what we were hoping is that you would be able to direct us to Mr. Johnson’s old roommate. Do you have any idea who that might be?” -221-

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“Oh sure. That would be Tommy Lakins. I know because we used to date a while back. He was pretty shook up when Corey was shot.” “Do you know where we can find him?” She turned to the computer again, tucking her long blonde hair behind her ears. “Let’s see. It’s almost two so he’s at… Claridon Hall.” She pointed behind them. “Go straight across the street and you’ll see the sign. Class should be letting out in about ten minutes. He’s a tall guy, skinny, with about your hair color,” she finished, glancing at Alex. Brad smiled, making her blush again. “Thanks, Carrie,” he said, glancing at her name tag. “We appreciate it.” “Hey, no problem. I hope you find whoever did this to Corey. He was a nice guy. Intense and really serious but nice.” Alex waited until they were outside before stopping to glance up at Brad. “Thank God for blonde coeds who are impressed with tall, dark and handsome.” He leaned down to brush her lips. “How about red-haired detectives?” She shook her head, laughing. “Your ego is big enough. Come on, let’s go.” They perched under the shade of a big oak tree and waited. Students began to trickle out shortly afterward. Even before she saw him, Alex felt the tingle of minds connecting. Her gaze traveled across the lawn and directly toward the doorway. “There’s our boy now,” she said, standing. As they walked across the courtyard, Alex saw Tommy’s gaze centering on her. He stopped on the sidewalk facing them and waited.

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Brad raised an eyebrow. “The kid almost looks like he’s expecting us.” “I think he is,” she said quietly. “Hi. Tom Lakins?” Brad asked. When the young man nodded, he extended his hand. “I’m Brad Norton and this is Alex Leahy. We were wondering if you have a few minutes to talk with us.” “About Corey?” Brad glanced at Alex. “As a matter of fact, yes.” “Sure. I’ve got an hour before my next class. If you don’t mind meeting in the cafeteria so I can grab something to eat.” Moments later, they were seated at a table at the far end of the room, Brad and Alex sipping coffee while Tom dug into a burger and fries. He took a gulp of his coke and then leaned back in his chair. “You can’t be the police because they think I’m some kind of crackpot. So who are you?” Alex smiled sympathetically. “Sometimes it’s really a pain, isn’t it?” Tommy’s gaze flew to hers. “What?” “Seeing things, the future.” He didn’t reply for a moment, studying her solemnly. “You know, don’t you?” She nodded fingering a flaming curl. “It’s the curse of our ancestry. You’ve got to have a Kelly or a Martin somewhere in that past. “Try Lally.” She

smiled

briefly.

“We’re

not

investigating your roommate’s death.”

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the

police

but

we

are

Anita Whiting

“Why,” he said with a trace of bitterness. “According to the local authorities, it’s old history.” “Not to us,” Brad said. Again Tommy studied him and then nodded. “Okay, what do you want to know?” “To start with, why do the police think you’re a crackpot?” “Because I told them I knew, was positive, that Corey’s death wasn’t an accident. That he was murdered for a reason.” “What reason?” Tommy

took

another

bite

of

his

burger

and

chewed

thoughtfully. “I think it had something to do with the assignment Professor Spear’s gave us in class a couple of months before Corey was killed. I don’t know that for a fact but I feel it, if you know what I mean. I’ve had dreams ever since that day, even though I wasn’t around when it happened. Every one of them ends with me staring at those papers on his desk in our room.” “What was the assignment?” Brad asked. “We had to find a cold investigation, research the facts and make a case acting as the DA. Interview witnesses, recording their answers, collecting evidence, that sort of thing. We didn’t have to run true to the real investigation but we had to dot all the i’s and cross all the t’s. Professor Spear is a real pain about that stuff.” “You know what Corey was investigating?” Alex asked. “I know he found a newspaper article on the web about a plane crash that happened about twenty years ago just outside of Charlotte, North Carolina. The pilot along with the husband and wife that were on board were all killed. There wasn’t much left of the plane but the conclusion was that it was pilot error that caused the crash.” -224-

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Alex knew the answer before she even asked the question. “What were the names of the victims?” “Steadman. Laura and Lawrence Steadman. I remember the name because, according to his research, it was big news at the time. At least that’s what he told me.” He shrugged thin shoulders, taking another gulp of his pop. “Apparently the couple was worth a whole lot of money. To the tune of millions.” She put her cup down carefully, catching Brad’s eye. “Why would Corey investigate a case from so long ago? Clues had to be hard to come by He took a last bite of his burger, leaning back in the chair. “You had to know Corey. He was tenacious as hell. Besides, his grandparent’s were killed in that plane crash over Florida years ago and it hit him hard. He was close to both of them and I guess this case brought those memories back. Especially after he read about the pilot’s family and what they had to say.” “What was that?” Brad asked. “I don’t remember everything but the gist, from what Corey told me, was that they said there was no way this guy failed to check his gauges before take off. That was backed up by the mechanic that worked on the Steadman’s private jet. I guess he had been flying them around for over twenty years.” “I supposed this is a crazy question, Tom,” Alex said, “but you wouldn’t happen to have his research papers would you?” He shook his head regretfully. “I wish I did. Then maybe I could prove I wasn’t totally nuts to the police. They took his papers when I told them about my suspicions, but I didn’t hear anything after that.” He scowled. “Probably threw them in the trash.” “How about his computer?” Brad asked. -225-

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The scowl disappeared. “Man, I didn’t think about that. His parents took the desktop when they cleaned out his stuff, but they gave me his laptop. I already had a newer one but I couldn’t not take it, if you know what I mean?” Alex nodded in understanding. “Do you still have it?” “I think so. I moved into a campus apartment for my senior year and it might be in some of the boxes I’ve got stuffed in my closet.” He glanced at the cafeteria clock. “I’ve got a class for the next hour and a half.” He reached in his backpack and scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed to Brad. “This is the address. It’s on the north side of the campus. Old brick two-story. If you can meet me there in about two hours, I’ll see if I still have it.” “You got it and thanks,” Brad said, leaning over and shaking his hand. “Hey, it’s nice to know someone believes me. I was beginning to think I was crazy or something.” “I know the feeling. Alex and I will be waiting.” Tom grabbed his backpack and stood. “See you in a few then.” Alex watched him walk away thoughtfully. “Okay, I’m trying to figure out what the Steadman’s deaths have to do with all of this?” she said, slowly turning her gaze to Brad. “Maybe Anna’s parents weren’t as taken with Russell Ferron as their daughter was.” “Could be, but again it just doesn’t jive. After all, at the time, they weren’t even engaged but just dating according to my sources.”

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“Hopefully we’ll find that answer somewhere in Corey’s computer,” Brad said, rising as a group of girls walked over with food-laden trays. A tall curvy blonde flashed a seductive smile at Brad. “You don’t have to leave on our account,” she said huskily. “Oh, but he does,” Alex said, tucking an arm in Brad’s and gazing up at him with a dramatic fluttering of her lashes. “He’s going to help me with my biology, aren’t you, honey?” “Absolutely,” he answered, playing along. “After all, the human body, especially the female one, has always fascinated me.” “Well, you can study mine anytime you want,” the blonde said suggestively. Brad flashed a smile and then grimaced slightly as Alex gave him a subtle but sharp jab. “Thanks for the offer but …” he shrugged, “I’m rather tied up at the moment.” “Too bad,” she said, sliding into a chair. Brad glanced down at Alex as he opened the cafeteria door for her. “Jealous?” he teased. “Not at all,” she said airily, brushing past him just as a loud crash reverberated behind them. They both turned just in time to see the blonde covered in salad, glaring at girl standing behind her with a now empty tray. “Oh, what a shame,” Alex said calmly, turning back and walking out the door. She made it about three steps before Brad caught up with her. “Rather strange coincidence back there, wasn’t it?” “If you mean the salad shampoo, it wasn’t an accident.” Brad’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you said your sister was the one with the power of mental suggestion.” -227-

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“She is. I took lessons.” He looked startled for a brief moment and then his lips twitched. “Remind me never to tick you off, will you?” “It’ll happen, you know.” He ran a finger along her cheek. “Then I’ll have to take some of those lessons, won’t I?” Alex laughed, linking her arm with his again. “Knowing Alicia, she’d give them to you.” They walked along the picturesque campus pathway just enjoying the late afternoon sun and the peaceful surroundings. When they reached the car Brad paused, his gaze sliding across the lush green lawn toward the building across the street. “My guess is the campus library will have an archive of newspaper articles written about Corey Johnson’s death. Maybe there will be something we can use. We’ve got a little over an hour to kill.” “Good idea.” About ten minutes later, they both had a stack of newspapers in their arms. They settled in a quiet spot toward the back of the library and began sorting. Finally, Alex sighed, rubbing the back of her neck trying to ease the stiffness. “I’m beginning to think this is a waste of time. There’s nothing here that we don’t already know.” “I might have something,” Brad said, spreading part of a newspaper in front of Alex. She glanced at it and then shook her head. “Brad, this is the obituaries. What could be in…?” She stopped, leaning forward; her eyes focusing on the column entitled NOTABLE DEATHS.

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DIED: JOSEPH MICHAEL RINALDI, ATTORNEY Attorney, Joseph Michael Rinaldi, a Marshall alumni, was laid to rest at All Souls cemetery late yesterday afternoon in his hometown of Marietta, Ohio. Mr. Rinaldi was involved in a fatal car crash earlier in the week that is still under investigation. He was most well known for the landmark case he won regarding soil conservation and water rights along the Ohio River. In recent months, however, according to people closest to him, he had spent long hours investigating the death of his six-year-old grandson, Michael who was killed in a drive-by shooting last year. Mr. Rinaldi is survived by

his

daughter,

Wendy

and

son-in-law

Steven

Fox

and

granddaughter, Melissa, and preceded in death by his wife of thirty years, Elizabeth. Mr. Rinaldi was fifty five. Alex raised her gaze to Brad’s. “A fatal accident?” “Accident being the operative word,” Brad said somberly. “Want to make a bet that he found something that implicated Ferron?” Alex rested her chin on her hands. “He’s feeling invincible right now, is Russell Ferron. He’s methodically and skillfully eliminated every person who has threatened his rich lifestyle. What’s worse is he’s got the power and money to continue doing so unless we stop him.” Brad folded the paper and placed it on the stack in front of him. “Before we visit Rinaldi’s daughter, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to see what exactly the police found regarding that accident.” He glanced at the date on the top of the page. “This is about a year old, so I would guess they’ve either closed it or it’s a cold case.”

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Anita Whiting

Alex followed his gaze to the picture of Corey Johnson on the front page. Instantly, she could feel the images beginning to form and she closed her eyes, letting them surround her. Shadows flitted in her mind. She could see a plane hurtling toward

the

ground,

its

occupants

screaming,

smell

an

overpowering odor of fuel. The scene abruptly changed. She could almost feel the man’s fear, the pounding heart as the car went faster and faster, taking the curve in the road too fast…the green car lunging closer in the rear view mirror… then blinding terror as suddenly the tires left the ground… She recoiled, even with her eyes still closed, from the fire and the incredible heat. Then, as abruptly as it started, the shadows faded. Her eyes opened slowly and she took a shuddering breath, willing her pulse to slow. Brad reached over and palmed her hand in his, warming it with his touch. “A vision?” She nodded. “Nothing definite, just shadows of things. But it was enough to know that Corey Johnson was on the right track with the Steadman’s plane crash being the core of this whole thing. Of that I’m certain.” She stood, stretching. “What’s more, I think, somehow, someway, Corey had to have contacted Wendy Rinaldi’s father. His accident was part of what I saw and I believe there’s a definite connection.” Brad caught her gaze. “You thinking what I am?” Her green eyes met his. “I am if you’re thinking that plane crash was no accident.” He grabbed the stack of papers and returned them to the librarian, thanking her. “Ready to go?” he asked. -230-

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Alex glanced at her watch. “It’s almost time to head toward Tommy’s apartment.” She looked up at him. “It’s coming together, Brad.

As

it

stands

right

now,

we’ve

almost

got

enough

circumstantial evidence to secure an indictment if nothing else.” His eyes darkened. “I don’t want just an indictment,” he said forcefully, “I want a damn conviction!” She tossed him a glance. “We’ll get him, Brad. Believe it.” He didn’t answer as he opened the door for her and they walked out into the sunlight. She stopped him just outside the door with a hand on his arm. “What’s wrong?” It took a moment for him to answer. “I’m just trying to figure out what my aunt’s involvement was in all of this. I’ve got this sickening feeling that maybe we’ve uncovered a conspiracy that explains everyone’s death but hers. I don’t know if I could handle her murder being what the police thought it was all along. Where does she fit in or does she?” “Your father says she does.” His gaze shot to hers. “How?” “He told me before we left the hotel that Anna Ferron and your aunt knew each other. They even socialized together with your mother and father at various black tie affairs.” “I don’t remember my aunt ever mentioning her name.” “Your father said because of the distance, they didn’t get together often but kept in touch just the same. Maybe your uncle might be able to tell us more.” “Could be. There’s only one way to find out.” Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed. Alex leaned against

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Anita Whiting

the car and waited. After a lengthy conversation, he finally disconnected the call and pocketed the phone. “Well?” He shook his head. “Damn if I don’t know why I didn’t talk to him a long time ago. It ties in, Alex. Uncle Frank said he knew of the two women’s friendship. But that isn’t the bombshell. He just told me that about two weeks before she was killed, Aunt Ellie asked him if he could quietly investigate Anna’s parent’s death once again. See what he could find.” “Investigate what?” “The possibility that the Steadman’s deaths weren’t an accident but homicide.” “I gather Anna asked her to do this?” “She did. And I’ve got a sneaking suspicion my uncle’s subsequent investigation stirred the pot and…” “Ultimately resulted in your aunt’s death,” Alex finished. “Killing her would serve two purposes. Eliminate his wife’s confidante and immediately stop the investigation your uncle was doing on the case. It’s a sure bet he never would have made the connection.” Brad ran a hand through his hair, grimacing. “God, that’s definitely something I don’t want him to ever find out. It’d kill him.” “What worries me more is that he might even be in danger. Every person who has investigated Russell Ferron ends up six feet under.” “How am I going to tell him to watch his back without revealing the whole damn story?” he said, her words hitting home. She opened the car door and slid in. She started the engine, motioning for him to join her. “Give your father a call. Bring him -232-

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up to date and see if he can get him out of town for awhile.” Her lips tilted. “He’s rather persuasive and I’ve got a hunch you’re uncle will be on vacation before he knows what hit him.” “Good idea,” he said, reaching for his phone again and then paused. “Hell, my father just might blame Uncle Frank as well when he hears what I have to say.” “I don’t think so,” she said quietly, backing out into the street. He studied her for a moment and then nodded. “Yeah, maybe you’re right at that.” A few minutes later, Alex pulled in front of Tommy Lakin’s apartment and shut off the engine just as Brad finished his call. He gave her a half grin. “You’ve got a fan, you know that. He told me if you suggested it, he’d go along. Said he already called Uncle Frank this morning to let him know I was okay.” Brad glanced at the address on the paper Tommy had given him and led the way up the walkway. They made their way around empty pizza boxes and several cans of crinkled beer, entering the long hallway of the old building. Alex glanced around. “Remember those days?” she said motioning toward the debris. He grinned, shaking his head. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Yeah, sure.” She stopped in front of a door just as Tommy walked up behind them. “Perfect timing,” he said, slipping a key into the lock and ushering them in. “Sorry about the mess. We weren’t expecting company.” Alex attempted to keep a straight face as she moved some more beer cans out of the way so she could sit on the couch. The -233-

Anita Whiting

apartment was fairly big with high ceilings and classic lines that graced buildings of that era. The decorating was typical college with a mixture of team banners and posters littering the walls along with a well worn couch and several overstuffed chairs. Tommy dumped his backpack on the table and motioned toward the kitchen. “Can I get you guys anything? I think there are a couple of beers left.” “No thanks,” Brad said. “We won’t keep you too long.” “Hey, it’s not a problem. Classes are done for the day anyway.” He walked toward a large closet along one wall. “If I’ve got Corey’s laptop, it’d be in here.” A few minutes later he emerged, triumphantly holding the computer. “Got it.” He plugged it in and flicked it on. Setting it on the kitchen table, he looked up at them. “This kind of gives me the creeps. The last time I saw Corey use this was just about an hour before he was killed.” The screen powered up and he turned it toward Brad and Alex, pointing toward an icon. “That’s the folder he kept his stuff in for Spear’s class.” Brad sat in front and double clicked on the icon. The screen darkened and then three words appeared in blood red. MULTIPLE MURDER COVER-UP Alex leaned forward as Brad scrolled down, both of them reading the first few sentences. After a few moments Brad whistled softly looking up at Tommy. “You read any of this?”

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He shook his head. “Only the first few notes he had. Come to think of it, he got kind of strange about that after awhile. Wouldn’t let anyone watch him type and he took the thing with him everywhere.” He popped a can of soda, leaning against the counter. “I got a pretty strong feeling that something was bothering him, something that had him scared.” “Did he actually tell you that?” Alex asked. “Not in so many words, but we were roommates for almost three years. I knew the guy pretty well. He was always intense but he became almost, you know, obsessed. Sometimes, he’d be doing research well into the night even when he had an early class the next day.” “You overhear anything that might help us?” Tommy took a sip of his soda, eying them thoughtfully. “Not that I can remember.” “I know this is probably crazy, but you wouldn’t by any chance have his cell phone records, assuming he had one?” Alex asked. “I don’t have his but I’ve probably still got my old phone bills. We got one of those family plans when we signed up and just split the cost each month. Wait a minute.” He opened the bottom drawer of his desk and pulled out a pile of envelopes along with a stack of papers. “Probably should throw all these away. I just toss them in here after I pay them.” He grinned up at them. “My mother would kill me if she knew I haven’t emptied this desk drawer since I started college. I just moved it from the dorm to the apartment.” “Maybe lucky for us,” Alex said. “I hope so,” he said, sifting through the pile. He pulled several out and examined the dates. “This is the last few months’ bills -235-

Anita Whiting

before Corey was killed.” He leaned over the counter and grabbed a yellow highlighter rubbing it along a series of numbers. “That was Corey’s cell.” “Do you mind if we take these as well as the laptop for a few days?” Brad asked. “I have a feeling this is going to take some time.” “Keep it as long as you need it. I only hope it helps.” He frowned into his coke. “You know, sometimes I think those dreams I have are messages from Corey from the other side.” He looked up, his lips twisting. “I know that sounds nuts but it’s the truth.” Alex shook her head. “It’s not nuts at all, Tommy. It’s beginning to sound like your friend was onto something, something big, and was killed because of it.” She offered her hand. “You’ve been terrific and you can be sure if we discover anything in our investigation, you’ll be one of the first to know.” “I’d appreciate it.” He followed them out. He tossed his empty pop can in the garbage in front, his gaze going to the car. “Wow, nice ride.” “Thanks,” Brad said, resignedly taking the passenger seat once again when Alex deftly slid into the driver’s side. “Problem is the woman won’t let me drive it.” Tommy grinned. “Can’t say as I blame her.” “Smart man,” Alex retorted saucily, tossing her red mane. “Thanks again, Tommy. We’ll return this stuff as soon as we can.” “Take your time and good luck.” They drove a short distance when Alex suddenly put on the brakes, turning to Brad. “How do you feel about a bed and breakfast for tonight? I’m not much on sleeping in another hotel room for a little while after last night.” -236-

A Killer's Agenda

“Sounds good to me,” he said easily. “Any ideas?” “As a matter of fact, I do,” she said brightly. “Remember that house that I was enthralled with when we came into town?” Brad gave an exaggerated sigh. “Let me guess, it’s a bed and breakfast.” “Yep.” “Am I being manipulated again?” “Of course,” she tossed back. A short while later they were led to a charmingly decorated bedroom by a smiling older woman who introduced herself as Betty Malone. “The phone by the table is connected directly downstairs if you need anything. Local calls are free but anything long distance has to be called from the desk phone below,” she said, handing them a key. “Breakfast starts at seven and is served until ten. I guarantee you’ll enjoy it. My husband is quite a cook,” she finished, her blue eyes twinkling. Alex turned slowly, taking in the high ceilings and crown molding as well as the antique bedroom set. “What a great room. Have you owned this house for a long time, Mrs. Malone?” “Honey, no one calls me Mrs. Malone. Betty will do just fine. As to your question, I was born in this house. Raised my kids here as well.” Alex reached in her purse and pulled out a picture. “Does this man look at all familiar to you?” Betty took the picture from her hand and studied it for just a moment. “Sure does. That’s Larry Winslow.” She looked up, eyes narrowing. “Why?”

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Anita Whiting

“Because there is a very good possibility that he was responsible for the death of a college student awhile back.” “I knew it!” she said, snapping her fingers. “I told Lisa that man was trouble. I didn’t like the look of him.” “Lisa?” Brad prompted. “Lisa Carter. She has the B & B across the street. That man stayed there for almost two weeks last fall and by the time he left, she was a nervous wreck. She told me there was something about him that gave her the creeps. Cruel eyes and lips. That’s why I remember his name.” “Could you be more specific about the time he stayed there?” Brad asked, glancing at Alex. The woman’s eyes widened. “Come to think of it that was right around the time that poor boy was killed.” Her eyes flew to the picture she still held. “It wouldn’t be hard for me to imagine him doing something like that. I just saw him a few times. He was a big man, dressed fancy but there was something about him that said low class.” “Do you think your friend would be willing to talk to us?” Betty

opened

her

mouth

and

then

paused.

“Are

you

detectives?” Alex fished in her purse for her identification. “We are as a matter of fact.” “Well then, she sure would. I hope you nail him if he did kill that boy. Everyone was devastated. Nothing like that has ever happened around here before.” “Did you know Corey Johnson?” “Not personally but this town is tied closely to the college. We’re very protective of our students.” -238-

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Brad flashed a smile. “Thank you for being so helpful, Betty. If you could arrange a meeting with your friend in the morning at some point, we would really appreciate it.” Betty nodded. “I’ll do that. Meantime,” she said slyly, opening the door, “enjoy the room.” She shut the door firmly behind her. Brad walked over to Alex, pulling her into his arms. “Our hostess is a very smart lady, you know that?” “She is at that,” Alex said, standing on tiptoe to catch his lips in a long and satisfying kiss. When it finally ended, she found herself lifted off the floor against his chest, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he edged toward the bed. Just as he lowered her onto the mattress, his hands already doing wonderfully exciting things to her body, his cell phone rang, startling them both. Alex moaned, wrapping slim arms around his neck. “Just ignore it. They’ll call back.” “Don’t tempt me,” he muttered, looking down at her. Her red curls shone on the stark white of the pillow, her cheeks flushed with the beginnings of the passion that had his heart already pounding. Leaning over, he glanced at the incoming number and shook his head. “It’s either Kevin or Uncle Frank. I can’t.” She sighed, removing her arms and sitting up. “Okay, you answer and I’ll just slip into something more comfortable.” “Don’t make it too fancy,” he warned, reaching for the offending phone, “because it won’t stay on long.” “We’ll see,” she said huskily, running a nail along his jaw. Groaning, he answered the phone. Alex smiled as she gathered her shower bag. Tossing a look at the man behind her, she grabbed her Mickey Mouse nightshirt.

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Anita Whiting

Closing the door firmly behind her, she walked down the hall toward the bathroom Betty had pointed out earlier. Although it was obvious the room had been modernized it still held an old world charm. The modern shower was side by side with a wonderful claw footed bathtub. Alex chose the bathtub, adding a liberal amount of perfumed bath oil she had in her case. Stripping, she settled into the scented water, groaning with pleasure as the warm liquid caressed her body, relaxing against the big curved back. Mindful of the fact there was only one bathroom upstairs, she only allowed herself fifteen minutes but it was more than enough time. The hall was deserted when she emerged. She stretched, feeling clean and delightfully feminine. She admired the vintage carpeting covering the soft golden wood floor as she padded toward the room. When a patch of sunlight caught her eye, she stopped and turned toward it, noticing a small alcove just before their bedroom that she hadn’t seen before. Two large window seats faced each other, both tucked against the wall facing ornate French doors that Alex couldn’t resist opening. Impulsively, she dropped her bath things on one of the seats and walked out onto what appeared to be a summer porch. She leaned on the rail enjoying the view of the yard and the street below. Huge oak trees provided shade and privacy; the branches close enough that she could actually reach out and touch them but far enough apart to allow her to enjoy the scenery below. She could feel the warmth from the last rays of the sun peeping through the colorful leaves. The artist in her began to daydream, glancing down at the curved driveway and the covered porch below. She could imagine -240-

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fancy horse-drawn buggies letting their passengers off in front. There would be women with long, swishing skirts and dashing men in top hats and coats escorting them up the stately steps leading to the ornate double front doors. The urge to paint what she was seeing made her regret not having her supplies. So she did the next best thing and stored the images in her memory, hoping to bring them to life when she returned home. The scent of the fall flowers blooming below wafted up, sending her to another place and time. Tomorrow she would make a point of examining the architecture of the house, maybe adapt some of it for ideas on what she had to finish in her own. She leaned against the banister sighing and feeling just a little bit homesick. She should check in with her parents soon and call the office as well. Nora was capable but… Suddenly, almost violently, an image intruded. Every muscle in her body tensed as she sensed the danger. Someone was out there watching, waiting. She backed up against the house, edging toward the French doors, knowing he was moving closer and looking up, his features hidden by the branches. Yet there was no mistaking the image of the gun he held aimed at her from below, the late sun glinting on the barrel, a silencer covering its deadly end, a finger on the trigger patiently watching… At that very moment, a stream of sunlight spotlighted her in its beam and those eyes focused and narrowed. He’d seen her. She knew it! In very slow motion, her mind saw the mechanism click, heard the silent ping as the weapon fired… She threw herself on the wooden floor milliseconds before the bullet buried itself in the thick wood directly where she had been standing. Heart pounding, she stayed flat and perfectly still, -241-

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hoping whoever it was that had fired at her would think he had succeeded in his objective. She could feel, sense, his presence, the evil that swirled around him. Her mind connected with his as bits of phrases came through. “…finish

what

Fowler

started…no

one

left

who

knows

anything…warn them to keep their mouth shut or else…shame the pretty PI is dead…too bad… the Norton man is next…” Minutes that seemed like hours later, she heard a car start up and speed away. Closing her eyes and willing her heart to slow, she felt more than saw the danger fade away. Shakily she stood, and eased her way back into the alcove. She picked up her case with nerveless hands and walked the remaining distance to the room. Brad looked up from unpacking his suitcase, an eyebrow lifted teasingly. “That must have been some soak…”he began and then stopped as he got a good look at her face. “What’s wrong?” She dropped the case on the bed and walked over to him slipping her arms around his waist taking solace from his warmth. “I’d like you to hold me. Really, really tight,” she murmured huskily, reaction beginning to set in. “Something wrong?” he asked, concerned. He removed some dried leaves stuck to her collar and her curls. “How’d these get in your hair?” She took a minute to gather herself, already feeling better. “Someone shot at me, Brad,” she said baldly.” “What?” he growled, fury lighting his eyes. “Are you hurt?” She shook her head. “No but he doesn’t know that.” “Who?”

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“I’m not sure. It was either Russell Ferron or someone else he’s hired.” She eased out of his arms, anger replacing the fear as she began pacing without realizing she was doing so. “He must have known we would head here. Either he was waiting or he followed us once we arrived in town.” She turned back to him. “I saw a balcony through some French doors and couldn’t resist exploring. He was down there waiting, probably knew what room we were in. I hit the deck moments before the bullet buried itself in the wood behind me.” “Damn!” he swore harshly. “That does it. I think we should call off this whole thing and let the police take it from here.” She raised her eyes to his. “Do you really want to do that?” “Hell I don’t know what I want anymore. I thought this investigation was paramount but it sure isn’t worth putting you in danger, Alex.” She traced the frown marring his forehead. “I know the risks just like you do, Brad. You realize we stop now and there’s a good chance Ferron won’t ever be caught.” “I know. Besides that Uncle Frank just made it even more difficult to back off.” Her expression sharpened. “That was him on the phone?” He nodded. “Dad didn’t waste any time doing what we asked. My uncle told me he’s going up to the family cabin in Canada for a long weekend. Maggie and my father are going as well. Knowing Maggie’s powers of persuasion, that long weekend will stretch to a week. Maybe give them some time to work through things. Do them both good.” “That’s great. It’s one less thing to worry about right now.” “That wasn’t the only reason he called.” -243-

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His tone of voice had her glancing at him quickly. “He has some information?” “That’s putting in mildly. He’s promised to fax me what he has as soon as I can find a machine but what he was able to tell me over the phone was enough.” Alex eased back and turned to the door, flicking the lock and then walked across the room toward the tall windows pulling the shades. “Just taking precautions,” she responded to the question in his eyes. She shook her head. “I still feel as if I’m not doing my usual thorough job, Brad. I should have known there was a good chance Ferron wasn’t going to stop now. Whatever he’s hiding must be pretty explosive.” “It is. According to my uncle there’s a good possibility Russell Ferron arranged for someone to mess with the Steadman’s plane the day they crashed.” “If that’s the case, why wasn’t he arrested?” “Not enough evidence. He was able to get hold of the file because the case was never closed. Ferron was investigated along with a number of other people but he had a solid alibi. The man is clever, I’ll give him that. Anyway, my uncle said he found himself engrossed in what the detective assigned to the case had collected evidence wise.” Alex’s eyes lit with interest. “Anything we can use?” “If we can corroborate what he suspected we can.” He brushed his lips along her forehead. “You smell good.” She smiled, nestling closer. “Behave yourself. At least until you satisfy my curiosity. Come on, give.”

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His expression hardened. “The Steadmans' plane was damaged heavily but there was enough left of the fuselage to ascertain, after investigation, that the landing gear had malfunctioned.” “Someone tampered with the hydraulics?” “It was suggested by the Steadman’s mechanic but his theory was shot down because they couldn’t nail anyone. The couple was well-liked and active in the community. Let’s face it, the business they were in might be competitive but they weren’t heisting diamonds.” “Then why did this detective suspect Ferron?” “For a number of reasons. My uncle spoke to him at length. The pilot’s family was very outspoken in their anger at the media’s take about this being strictly pilot error.” “Why?” “Because he was a former military instructor as well as having over thirty years' experience flying. According to his son, his father knew that plane inside and out. Said there was no way he would have not checked those gauges before take off. He was that meticulous.” Alex brought her knees up, resting her chin on them thoughtfully. “Mechanical devices fail.” “Maybe but it sent a flag up and, according to Uncle Frank, the detective told him after he spoke to the mechanic again, he began to suspect foul play. It took some prodding but the guy remembered a conversation the Steadmans had while he was checking their plane over a few days before the crash.” “About Russell Ferron?”

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He nodded. “Apparently, they seldom argued so their raised voices caught his attention. It seems Lawrence Steadman hadn’t been too thrilled with his daughter’s latest love interest.” “Namely our Mr. Ferron,” Alex said. “Did he hear why?” “He said he heard something on the order of he wasn’t going to stand aside and watch his only daughter marry a criminal. Then they caught sight of him and clammed up.” Alex

scanned

her

memory.

“I

had

Ferron

thoroughly

investigated before we left on this trip. I found no mention of any criminal activity. I doubt he would have been accepted to law school and passed the bar if that were the case.” She raised a brow thoughtfully. “Only way I wouldn’t have found something is if the records were sealed.” “Such as criminal activity under the age of eighteen.” “Exactly. I do know Lawrence Steadman was a very astute businessman. I’ll bet when he saw how serious his daughter was about Ferron, he had him investigated. That kind of money can get past red tape.” “So how do we get past it?” She reached for her phone. “I’ve got a hunch if anyone can get us some info on this it’s Rosa Santos. Assuming she isn’t in the hospital giving birth, that is.” She frowned when she got the answering machine and glanced at her watch. “Strange. It’s almost nine o’clock. You’d think they’d be home by now.” She punched in a different group of numbers and the frown disappeared when Rosa answered. “Now what is a momma-to-be doing out this time of night?” she teased.

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“Alex! You were next on my list to call. You must have read my mind.” “I’ve been known to do that.” Alex grinned into the phone, her glance finding Brad’s. “Call me about what?” “Oh, nothing important really. Just thought you might like to know Miguel didn’t get his way.” “His way? About what?” “Naming our child.” Suddenly Alex caught the undercurrent of excitement in her voice. “You had the baby!” “Late yesterday afternoon. Seven pounds twelve ounces of bouncing baby girl. Emma Rose after both grandmas. Alex, she’s so beautiful. Dark hair and long eyelashes and the cutest dimples.” Alex’s eyes misted. “Oh, I’m so happy for you and Miguel, Rosa. Brad’s here with me and gives his congratulations as well. How are you feeling?” “On top of the world. I don’t think Miguel has stopped pacing though. He was the epitome of the classic nervous first dad but he hung there when I needed him.” “I can’t wait to get my hands on her. Give her a great big kiss for me.” She paused, deciding not to tell Rosa why she had called. “You sound a little tired so I’ll give you a call tomorrow for all the details. Give our love to Miguel.” “Oh no you don’t. I’m not that tired. I want details, woman. What’s going on at your end?” “You sure you want to hear about that right now?” “Absolutely. Come on, tell me everything.” When Alex was finished there was a long pause on the other end. “Wow, you have been busy. Are the two of you okay?” -247-

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“At the moment.” “Only way Ferron hides any criminal behavior is if he were underage.” “We’ve come to the same conclusion. Any chance you know someone who can take a peak at sealed records? I don’t want to get you into any trouble but…” “Shush, let me think,” Rosa said impatiently. “Give me half an hour. I’ll call your cell.” Alex

disconnected

the

call,

shaking

her

head

ruefully.

“Motherhood hasn’t dimmed that determination of hers. She told me to shut up and wait for her to call back.” “So my buddy is a new dad.” He shook his head, his lips twisting. “Somehow I can’t see it.” She shoved him. “He’ll be great, you big jerk. Seven pounds, twelve ounces, a little girl. They named her Emma Rose.” “Nice name. Everything okay?” “She’s on cloud nine.” “You sound envious.” She shook her head. “I’m not.” She eased back, laying her head on his shoulder. “It’s just that I can’t help but get a little sentimental. I’m the oldest of five and I remember how sweet and precious newborns are.” He tipped her faced up and claimed her lips, letting them linger as he ran his hands down the length of her. “The idea of watching my child grow inside of you is suddenly incredibly appealing,” he murmured, his mouth continuing its path down the soft curve of her neck. “Oh, is that so?” she murmured, wrapping her arms around him and then groaning as he caught one pebbled nipple through -248-

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the material of her nightshirt. “Brad, we only have about half an hour before Rosa’s call,” she gasped, arching as he moved to the other breast. He slowly slipped the nightshirt off. She watched as his eyes darkened with passion. “Then we’ll just have to make the most of that time, won’t we,” he said, lowering his lips to her soft midriff. She felt herself melting degree by degree as he continued to leave a trail of heat on her skin with his lips. Every thought, every concern disappeared as he sent shivers of need through her. Her hands began to move restlessly along his muscular back, wanting more, giving more until both of them were skin-to-skin, clothes tossed impatiently away. Their lovemaking was incredibly wild and incredibly potent, almost desperate. When it came, their release was simultaneous and just as incredible. When she could breathe, she opened heavy lids to find him watching her with those mysterious dark eyes, his own breathing still uneven. “What? Do I have dirt on my nose or something?” He didn’t smile but shifted to ease beside her, not answering. She rose on her elbow, impatiently tossing her red gold hair away from her face. “Listen Brad, we just finished having beyond fantastic sex and suddenly I’m being shut out again. Why?” “I wasn’t aware I was doing that,” he said quietly. “I think you are, maybe not consciously but definitely subconsciously. Do I frighten you that much?” His gaze flew to hers but instead of anger in his eyes, she caught a glimpse of something entirely different. “You scare the hell out of me, Alex. What I feel for you scares the hell out of me.”

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She fought back the hurt his words inflicted and instead reached for her discarded nightshirt, slipping it on. “I can’t help being who I am, Brad.” He caught her arm before she could rise, pulling her back down and into his arms. “You don’t understand. I just realized a moment ago that life wouldn’t be worth living if I lost you and how damn close I came to doing just that.” Although tears misted her vision, she met his gaze steadily. “I’m not going anywhere, Brad. Count on it.” “You can’t control everything, Alex, especially someone with the money and connections that Ferron has.” He rose, pulling his jeans over lean hips. “Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all to hire someone else to finish the investigation.” Fury flashed in her eyes but she stood without haste, facing him. “You're firing me?” He pulled her to him, not gently. “You know I won’t. I can’t, damn it! I’d worry more if you weren’t with me.” His words serving to bank her temper. “Don’t fight so hard.” His lips curled. “I’m going to regret this,” he said wryly, “but what is it I’m supposed to be fighting?” “Me. Us. Love hurts sometimes. Deal with it.” She slipped her arms around his neck again. “I think other people have told you the same thing, haven’t they?” “Maggie’s been talking,” he growled. “Just giving me tips,” she answered flippantly. “God save me from conniving women!” She reached up on tiptoes and brushed his lips. “You love it and you know it.”

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He lifted her right off her feet and dumped her on the bed. “Yeah, right,” he said, but couldn’t help grinning. “My turn for the shower. Lock the door, I’ll take a key and be back in five or ten minutes.” “Be careful,” she warned, leaning on one arm, suddenly serious. “I don’t think our friend will return but…” Her cell phone rang at that moment and both of them glanced at the clock beside the bed. Alex’s dimples peeked out as she reached for it. “I’d say we made the most of the time we had,” she murmured, her eyes dancing. “Don’t let Rosa hear the tone of voice or you’ll spend the next hour trying to dodge questions.” “Go,” she ordered, answering the phone only after she had locked the door as he had asked behind him. “Took your time answering,” Rosa said on the other end. “Did I interrupt something?” “Yep. Brad and I were making mad passionate love.” “Lord I hope it was good.” “Way beyond good,” she said lightly, grateful Rosa couldn’t see the blush on her cheeks. “You’re lucky I’m not standing there, my friend. If I was, you wouldn’t be able to hide if you are telling me the truth or just teasing a sleep-deprived new mother.” “Guess you’ll never know.” “Keep secrets and I won’t tell you my shocker.” “You found something?” “I sure did. In fact I found something big, I mean really, really big.”

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“Do I ask how you were able to get records unsealed so late at night and so quickly?” “You can ask but my lips are sealed. No pun intended.” “So what do you have?” “Our friend Russell Ferron was a very troubled youth. Records indicate he did well at school but he was suspended several times for altercations. Altercations rumor has he started but was always in the background when whatever it was went down. He just masterminded the plots, so to say. That’s not the shocker, though. There was a murder at his high school the year he was a senior. Upon investigation, they arrested another senior who swore Ferron put him up to it. The victim had just been awarded a scholarship, beating Ferron by a narrow margin grade wise. On top of that, he also took top honors away from him the previous week at the tennis finals for state.” “Let me guess. They weren’t able to prove Ferron was involved?” “Oh, they tried. Even brought him in for questioning, but nothing stuck. The victim’s family pursued it for a long time but came up empty. Ferron had motive, however the kid they arrested already had a long history of trouble with the law and, at least at that point, Ferron didn’t. So of course, when push came to shove, this other kid went down.” “If that’s the case, Rosa, then it shoots down our theory about Ferron being a criminal. “Ah but there’s more to the story, my friend. When this kid got out of juvie, he went after Ferron and ended up dead.” “Russell Ferron killed him?” Alex asked incredulously.

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“Cops thought he did. He was arrested and tried for murder as an adult even though he was still shy of his eighteenth birthday. His parents sold everything they had for his defense and their high-priced lawyer was able to convince the jury it was self defense. He was acquitted and the records were sealed.” “It’s amazing that he went to law school of all places, then.” “According to my source, and he’s reliable, it seems our Mr. Ferron was very impressed with how this legal team got him off when he knew damn well he was guilty. Impressed him enough to go to law school. He’s a criminal but he’s a smart criminal. Kept his grades above average and stayed out of trouble. When he met his future wife and discovered how much she was worth, he knew he had it made.” “Rosa, you’re incredible. You’ve just provided me with a reason for having the Steadmans killed. Lawrence Steadman must have approached Ferron with what he knew and threatened to go public if he didn’t back off. Our man saw the gold ring that was so close to disappearing so he found another idiot to do his dirty work.” “Be careful, Alex. I’ve prosecuted enough criminals to know this man has all the signs of being a sociopath. He won’t hesitate to kill or hire someone else to do it if he thinks it’s necessary and with no remorse. Those are the most dangerous kinds of murderers.” “I know. Fortunately, Rosa, it’s all beginning to make sense. Brad was right when he came to me. He had a feeling there was something more to his aunt’s death and he was right. I just have to make sure we have all our evidence together before we approach the authorities.” “Do you love him?”

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The question came out of nowhere. Alex smiled wryly into the phone. She should have known Rosa never would have let the conversation end and not ask questions. “With all my heart.” “He’s a really good guy, Alex. Just don’t let him convince himself that you deserve something better. Underneath that gorgeous exterior beats the heart of a boy who was starved for love. He’s overcome a lot but those kinds of scars don’t heal easily.” “I know and I won’t.” At that moment she heard the suddenly lusty cry of a baby. “It sounds like Emma wants some attention so I’ll let you go. Thanks, Rosa, and give Miguel and that precious daughter of yours my love.” “I will and keep in touch.” She tossed the phone on the bed and rose to walk to the table where Corey’s laptop sat, running her hands along it, closing her eyes. She waited for the images she was hoping would appear. Instead, she was bombarded with emotions, Corey’s angular face dominating her mind, his expression intense, his eyes almost burning as if he was trying to tell her something. She concentrated harder

and

the

words

began

to

flow,

disjointed

but

understandable. “…murdered her parents…have to prove it…after me…keep my laptop close…backup cd’s…have to talk to Rinaldi…Oh my God!…he’s going to kill me!…” She jerked as a hand touched her shoulder, her eyes flying open as she looked up. “Brad, you frightened me,” she said huskily, her eyes still mirroring the emotions she couldn’t hide. “More visions?” he asked, easing into the chair next to her. -254-

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She shook her head. “Not like before. Corey was trying to tell me something and I got enough of it to know he was scared, really scared. He knew someone was after him and he knew Joseph Rinaldi somehow, someway. His name came through loud and clear.” Brad flipped open the computer and clicked on the folder once again. “If that first sentence is any indication, maybe we’ll have what we need right here.” Alex leaned closer, reading over Brad’s shoulder.

PROLOGUE: Laura and Lawrence Steadman, wealthy owners of Steadman’s Jewelers, a nationally-known jewelers based in Charlotte, North Carolina, were killed August thirtieth of 1996 after their private jet crashed in a field shortly before landing. Initial investigations seem to indicate that the crash was due to mechanical failure of the hydraulics. However, further, more in-depth research raised deeper questions. Questions that resulted in the case staying open and eventually becoming a cold case for lack of evidence. Until now, that is. I intend to prove that instead of being an accident, this plane crash was a very clever way to commit a double homicide. I have the motive, the opportunity and the suspect and when all is said and done, I will convince the authorities I am right and this case will no longer be unsolved but closed. I have names, dates, phone records and I intend to use them to prove that no one, not even a member of the legal community, is above the law. Nor can they hide from it by paying off or frightening into silence those who can provide evidence of his guilt. And that includes myself. -255-

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“Pretty strong words,” Brad said. “Let’s see what he’s got.” He began to scroll down and then his fingers stilled on the key. “What the hell?” “There’s nothing else, right?” Alex asked. “Blank from that paragraph on,” he confirmed in disgust. “He’s got CD’s somewhere. I sensed it right before you walked in. He knew someone wanted what he had and he wasn’t dumb. Problem is now we have to find who he gave those backups to.” Brad glanced at the bedside clock. “Think it’s too late to call Tommy?” She lifted a brow in amusement. “College kid and a Friday night? Come on.” He tossed her a long look as he pulled out the paper with the phone number and dialed. “You seem to know a whole lot about college partying, young lady,” he remarked as he waited for an answer. He frowned when he heard the answering machine. “Damn, you’re right, no one’s home.” The images slammed into her so hard and fast that she swayed with their power. She could see Tommy at his desk working. See a gun glinting in the moonlight outside the window aimed directly at him. She jerked as she heard the gunshot, the sound echoing inside her. “Oh, my God!” Her vision cleared slowly. She spun and grabbed her gun and the car keys balancing on one leg as she shoved her legs into a pair of sweat pants lying inside the open suitcase. Brad grabbed her before she lost her balance. “What?”

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“He was outside that apartment, waiting. He knows we were there.” Her eyes flashed to his, fear mirrored in their green depths as she slipped a pair of shoes on. “If he’s harmed that boy, I swear to God…” He grabbed a tee shirt as he followed her out the door, sliding his arms into it. “You sure about this?” She didn’t answer but simply raced down the hall, flying down the curved stairway and past a startled Betty Malone. Brad was barely in the car before she backed out, tires squealing. Minutes later, they turned down the street where the apartment was located. Alex slowed, pounding the steering wheel. “Damn it!” The night was almost festive with the blue and red lights that flashed continuously from the two police cars and ambulance that was parked directly in front of them. People were huddled in small groups up and down the street, curiously facing the scene. Brad was just behind Alex as she sped up the concrete sidewalk, only stopping when her way was blocked by a uniform. “Sorry, ma’am, you can’t go in there just yet.” “I have to go in there. Is he hurt? Damn it, get out of my way!” Brad pulled her back, tucking her under his arm. “I’m Brad Norton and this is Alex Leahy, a private investigator. We have reason to believe someone might have harmed the young man who lives here as a result of an investigation we are currently in the middle of. A senior by the name of Tom Lakins.” Alex’s heart stilled when she saw the expression in the policeman’s eyes. He was saved from answering, however, as they were shoved aside to allow room for a gurney to squeeze through the door. Alex shrugged out of Brad’s arm and rushed to its side, -257-

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taking in Tommy’s pale face. Despite that, he gave her a crooked grin. “Tommy, I’m so sorry,” she said, squeezing his arm, fighting back tears. “Hey, I’m okay.” She took a deep breath. “Where are you hurt?” He grimaced as he turned his head away from her and pointed to bloody gauze on the side of his head. “Caught my head on the edge of the desk.” He turned back, his blue eyes finding her green ones. “You know that Irish thing we were talking about?” When she nodded, he continued. “Well, I think I owe my life to my ancestry. Something told me to duck moments before a bullet plastered my computer screen.” A quick flood of fury rushed through her. “Anyone else hurt?” “No one else was home.” “How did he get inside?” “He didn’t get in,” he said, wincing as he shook his head. “My roommate left one of the windows open earlier and I hadn’t shut it when I started working on the computer. Bullet went right through the screen.” She moved out of the way as the two men guiding the gurney began to move forward and then walked swiftly alongside. “Wait, just a moment,” she said before they lifted him inside the ambulance. They glanced at her curiously as she placed a hand on each side of his head. She looked up shrugging. “Yoga technique of sorts,” she explained hoping they would buy it. “Mind over matter stuff to relieve pain.” -258-

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Closing her eyes, she absorbed the pain, allowing it to enter. She almost enjoyed the way it forced her to concentrate on only that and not the tremendous guilt that lurked just beyond. Moments later, she let her hands slide away and opened her eyes to find Tommy staring at her, his eyes widening for a brief moment. “I’d say that you got a heck of a lot more of that Irish magic than I did,” he murmured, touching his head. “Whatever you did, I’d like you to do again when I have my next hangover, okay?” She laughed, amazed at his resiliency. “You got it.” Brad came up to put an arm around her as the ambulance sped away. “The kid’s pretty amazing.” She turned to him, a set look on her face. “It’s time to finish this before anyone else gets hurt. I think I know a way to flush Ferron out if you’re willing to go along.” “I don’t think I like the sound of that.” The dark was still illuminated by the cruiser bars as she glanced back at the apartment building. She hated to keep the authorities in the dark but she couldn’t risk being seen. Regretfully, she tugged Brad’s arm, pulling him into the shadows. “Come on, I’ll explain when we go back to the house.” “You aren’t going to talk to the police?” he asked in surprise. “I can’t. Not if I want my plan to work.” She glanced around, moving toward the car quickly. “I imagine our gunman took off once he thought he’d hit Tommy, but I don’t want to take any chances.” They drove into town and quickly grabbed a pizza, heading back with Alex keeping a sharp eye in the rear view mirror. The front porch light was still on as Brad opened the door for Alex. They could hear the television in the parlor and the low -259-

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murmur of voices. Alex put a finger to her lips as they crept up the stairs. It was only after she had turned the lock to their room that she allowed herself to sink down on the mattress. Brad set the pizza down and dug a thick piece out and handed it to Alex, helping himself as well. “Care to tell me what it is you have in mind?” Brad asked, leaning against the tall post of the bed and taking a bite. “You’re not going to like it.” “I don’t like any of this,” he said grimly. “I think our Mr. Ferron might be quick and accurate with a gun but I also think he’s running scared right now. Going after Tommy doesn’t make any sense. We know he had Cory’s computer but Ferron had no way of knowing that. He’s just scared enough to be careless and just smart enough not to get caught. I’ll guarantee he’s got an alibi all set up if someone were to start asking questions. He’s banking on the fact that even if he didn’t kill Tommy he’d scare him into silence.” “You want to set him up?” She nodded, catching a dripping piece of cheese as she finished chewing. “I think he believes he injured or killed me earlier. My idea is to let him continue to think that.” Brad’s eyes narrowed. “And what is that supposed to mean?” She curled her legs underneath her, looking up at him. “We both know that since Corey didn’t leave his backup CD’s with Tommy, the only other person that makes sense would either be Wendy Rinaldi or her father. If her father had them, it’s a good bet she has them now.” “So you want me to meet with them without your being there?”

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“He’s got to figure we’re going there next.” She leaned forward to pull him down beside her on the bed, smoothing his frown away with her fingers. He smiled for a brief moment, capturing her hand, but the frown returned as she continued. “He doesn’t have any idea we’re emotionally involved, Brad. As far as he knows, I’m simply the agent hired to investigate your aunt’s murder. It won’t seem unusual for you to continue without me.” “So where will you be?” he asked. “In another car following discreetly behind you. While you’re inside I’ll be watching and waiting.” “You sure it’s Ferron that’s stalking us?” “No, but I think it’s a pretty good possibility. Rosa believes, like I’m beginning to, that the man is a sociopath. He kills because he can, because he’s richer than God. Probably gets a high from that kind of sick power. It’s not beyond the realm of possibility he’s discovered his hired gun is dead and has decided to take care of things himself.” She glanced out the window and then back at the man sitting next to her. “You’re next on his list,” she said quietly. “I know.” “You do?” He nodded. “We stop the investigation, case closed and end of story. I’m the only one left to prevent that if he really believes he’s eliminated you. It sounds as if he’s got this Wendy Fox running scared. No one else is in possession of all the facts and he’ll make damn sure in whatever way he needs to that it stays that way.” “Very good, Holmes,” she said, trying to lighten the suddenly tense atmosphere. “Keep it up and I just might hire you.” The smile didn’t materialize as she expected it to. Instead he looked past her, scowling. “All those lives changed forever, people -261-

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killed, families destroyed for no reason other than one man’s greed.” His gaze flipped back to hers, fire smoldering in their dark depths. “I want him, Alex. I’d like to take my hand and smash it into his face just so I can mar that pretty boy image he’s worked so hard at.” “I had no idea you had such a violent temper,” she said, feeling, sensing, his restrained fury and understanding it, yet wanting to ease the pain she felt underneath. “As an investigator, I could only ignore that kind of behavior on one condition.” “Yeah? And what’s the condition?” he asked lifting a brow. She raised one slender leg and contemplated it. “When you’re finished, you allow me to aim one well-placed kick.” He was silent for a split second and then pulled her backward with him onto the mattress, laughing. “I had no idea you would resort to such primitive measures. I hope you don’t make a habit of doing such things.” She inhaled his clean male scent, her eyes dancing as they met his. “Primitive measures? You mean like this?” she said, tugging on his hair to pull his lips to hers. “Or this?” She murmured against them, scratching her nails along his chest just hard enough to leave a trail of heat. “Nope,” he said, sliding over her and capturing her arms above her head. “Like this.” He started a slow journey with his lips down her neck, nibbling and tasting his way lower and lower until she was shivering, needles of desire shooting through her. “Brad…” she gasped huskily. “Hmmm…” he answered, kissing the velvet skin on her inner thigh. -262-

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“I think I need primitive. Now!” For one brief second, she could see the desire, the purpose in his eyes and then sensations took over. Wild, fabulous sensations that had both of them gasping for air and clinging together. The still sane part of her knew that they needed the sex, the mindless pleasure to block the dark side of what they had experienced in the last few days. She arched, clinging to his broad shoulders, letting the hot flashes of heat build, expand. For one brief moment, their eyes met, melded and then closed as sensations swift and strong exploded between them. Their mingled breaths were short and sharp, fighting for control when that was impossible. They floated for one spine-tingling moment and then dived together. Only very slowly did she become aware of their surroundings, her heavy-lidded eyes slowly opening to gaze up at the tall ceiling with its intricate molding. Brad shifted, pulling her next to him, his eyes still dark with passion as she nestled against his shoulder. “Hey, promise me something,” she murmured sleepily against his chest. “What?” “Try not to lose that caveman mentality. I kind of like it.” He laughed, sending new shivers down her spine as he caressed her naked back. “Oh, yeah?” “Yep,” she said, turning and stretching, giving him a tantalizing view without realizing it. He yanked her back and she looked up at him startled, seeing the passion in his eyes beginning to smolder once again. “Brad, no!” she protested laughing. “You’re taking this cave man thing just a little too far, aren’t you?” “Me, Tarzan, you, Jane,” he muttered. -263-

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Her laugh turned to a groan as he ran his teeth along her shoulder, frissons of renewed desire shivering through her. She wrapped

her

arms

around

his

muscled

back

and

moved

seductively beneath him, enjoying the way his breath quickened, empowered by it. “Jane doesn’t think Tarzan is young boy anymore,” she taunted breathlessly. “I think I’ve just been insulted,” he growled, lips curving dangerously as he bent his head, nipping her shoulder lightly, then her arm, grazing his teeth along the curve of her breast. “If the truth hurts…” she began, her eyes widening as he rose and slid inside. Her head fell back as he pulled her up and over, that last part of sanity completely disappearing as wave after wave of molten heat cascaded through her body. It was only as she was sliding back, vulnerable, that an image pushed its way inside her head before she could stop it. Her blood froze, the sensations disappearing as if they’d never been. He was laying so still, blood everywhere, those beautiful dark eyes lifeless. It was then she heard the laughter. Horribly chillingly, cold laughter as she ran screaming toward the man she loved. She lifted his lolling head, sobbing, raising her eyes accusingly at… The vision was gone just like that. She clutched the reassuringly warm feel of him in her arms and willed her heart to slow, taking a suddenly deep, angry breath. There was no way in hell she would allow that vision to become reality. But maybe this time you can’t stop it. The unwelcome thought pierced her heart and she was afraid…so afraid… *** -264-

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The shades silhouetted more than they hid. Although the cries of passion were muffled by the closed windows, Ferron sat in the car below watching and waiting, his imagination filling in what he couldn’t see. “Enjoy the sex tonight, people,” he muttered, aroused at the thought. He allowed himself the luxury of imagining the sexy redhead naked, pounding inside of her. He didn’t doubt he could make her hot for him. Shame she wouldn’t ever have the pleasure. He put a hand on the gun next to him on the seat. It irked him that he had missed earlier. He wouldn’t again. His gaze slid back to the window. That’s right, lady. You and your stud enjoy screwing tonight because it’ll be your last for a long time.

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Chapter Twelve Alex awoke and stretched languidly, feeling rested for the first time in a long while. She could hear voices below and birds singing in the trees outside the window. Sunlight peeked through the filmy white curtains and around the shades dancing on the bedspread, the warmth touching her bare arms. “I guess we’ll have to get up soon if we don’t want to miss breakfast,” she murmured, turning. She sat up in surprise to find the other side of the bed empty. For just a moment, she allowed herself to panic, memories of her vision from the night before flashing in front of her. Stop it, she told herself. He’s probably already downstairs. She glanced at the clock, surprised to find it was already past nine. She slipped reluctantly from underneath the covers, grabbing a clean tee shirt and pair of jeans and her shower bag. She pocketed the key and hurried down the hall. Ten minutes later, she was dressed, feeling thoroughly awake and refreshed. Just as she reached for the doorknob to unlock it, Brad opened it from the other side, his expression lightening when he saw her. “Good morning,” she said, reaching up on tiptoe to give him a kiss. “Morning yourself,” he said, lifting her off her feet capturing her lips in a long kiss -266-

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“Wow! I like the wake up call,” she murmured huskily when he finally released her. “I gather you’ve already had breakfast?” He shook his head. “No, although I did sneak a cup of coffee earlier.” “How much earlier?” “Around six.” “You were up at that ungodly hour? Why?” “Couldn’t sleep.” The tone of his voice had her looking up at him. “Can’t imagine there were too many people awake that time of the morning.” “There weren’t. I spent the time doing a little investigating of my own. Thanks to the rain our hostess told me they had day before yesterday, I was able to find a set of footprints just under the upstairs porch you were standing on. Damn it, Alex! Why didn’t you tell me how close that bullet came to hitting you?” She shrugged. “What good would it have done?” She began folding clothes and packing her suitcase calmly. “What else did you do?” He wanted to carry the conversation further. He felt this overpowering need to let out the fear he felt when he saw the splintered wood just inches from the doors she had been standing near. Inches from her head… Yet one look at her expression told him she didn’t want to go there. “I paid a visit to the other B & B across the street.” “The one Matt Fowler stayed in?” He nodded. “Met with the owner, Lisa Carter. Nice lady with a penchant for talking your ear off.” She smiled. “While you were charming her, did she tell you anything that might help in the investigation?” -267-

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He reached behind her and picked up an envelope, handing it to her. “She did better than that. She gave us evidence.” She pulled the papers inside out and looked up quizzically. “More phone records?” “For the few weeks that Fowler stayed at her place.” She shook her head. “The man was a professional, Brad. I can’t imagine he would have been stupid enough to call anyone except from his cell.” “Even professionals make mistakes and he made a big one. He probably figured no one would follow his trail here and got careless.” She scanned the numbers, not recognizing any of them at first and then her gaze slowed, focusing, searching her memory. Her gaze snapped to his. “This is Russell Ferron’s phone number.” “And the one directly below it, according to my research, is Joseph Rinaldi’s. She frowned, scanning the entire month’s worth of bill. “Why did she keep this?” “She told me she files all of those things for tax purposes. Keeps them for several years.” She raised a triumphant gaze to his. “You’re right. This links Fowler to Ferron and Rinaldi. Best evidence we’ve had thus far.” “I’ll give you one better.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out another piece of paper. “This is the cell phone bill Tommy gave us yesterday with Corey’s number.” She compared the number with the bill she had in her hand. It only took a moment for her to find the number, again and again and again. An angry flush stained her cheeks. “That bastard was

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phone stalking him.” She glanced at the dates. “He called him at least twice a day for the entire two weeks he was here.” “Last call was the morning he was killed.” “No wonder he was paranoid. Strange he didn’t go to the police.” “He did, according to your uncle.” “You called Uncle Brian?” she asked in surprise. He nodded. “I figured he could cut through the red tape and get information a lot quicker than I could. I was right.” “I gather the police didn’t follow up?” “They tried, apparently half heartedly. Mrs. Carter has two phones that she uses for making reservations and for business use. The five bedrooms upstairs have their own lines. She threw the papers down in disgust. “If the police had been on top of this they might have prevented a murder. Although, in their defense, there are ways to call that make it almost impossible to trace. I don’t doubt Fowler would have known them. “If we get all the information in a row I’ve got a hunch the police won’t take things lightly this time,” Brad speculated. “If we can get our hands on those backup CD’s we’ve got him, Brad.” “That might be harder than you think,” he said wryly. “I placed a call right before you came in to Wendy Fox. Got her husband. To put it mildly, he wasn’t exactly thrilled to talk to me. In fact, I barely got my name and why I was calling out before he cut me off.” “I was afraid of that. I bet they’ve been threatened by Ferron or Fowler or both. Remember, according to that obituary, they have a

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little girl now. I wouldn’t put it past Ferron to threaten to kill her if they don’t keep their mouth shut.” “Terrific. Then what’s your game plan?” “How good an actor are you?” she asked candidly. “Why?” he asked suspiciously. “No woman loses her child and doesn’t burn for revenge. It might be buried deep, Brad, but that woman has to want some closure, especially if she knows Ferron is responsible for her son’s death. She’ll protect her daughter like a lioness but I can’t believe she won’t have some empathy with a man who has lost a relative in the same way.” “Question is how do I get past her husband?” She rose, zipping her suitcase shut. “Relate to him man to man. Imagine your wife and child in danger and you’ll know what to say.” “I don’t like it.” She nodded. “I know. Neither do I but, as I see it, it’s the only way. Someone has those CD’s and we need them. Only way to get our hands on them is to put ourselves at their mercy.” She lifted her case and put it on the floor. “Got ammunition for your gun?” she asked casually. He straightened, brows running together. “How do you know I own a gun?” “Because I ran you before I took the case, Brad. I’m not a complete fool. You’re the one who asked if my parents were okay with me taking off with a strange man in a car, remember? I know you have a gun and the expertise to use it.” “Yes I have the damn ammo,” he growled. “Why?”

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She shrugged. “Because things could get nasty. I don’t want to put that family at risk but, let’s face it, we are. That’s one of the reasons I want you to visit them alone. I want to have some control and I sure as hell don’t want any hostage situation. You packing a gun will even things on that side.” He unzipped a pocket of his suitcase and took his pistol out, slipping in a clip, his jaw tense. “I stopped at the library again and pulled up a map of the area where the Fox’s live.” He spread the paper on the table and motioned for him to join her. “This,” he said, pointing to a red x mark, “is their house. Nice neighborhood with five acre lots so we’ve got some room to work. As luck would have it, they live on the end with only a house on one side and woods on the other.” She studied the map, frowning. “Problem is, there’s no place to park the car without being noticed, especially a red Mustang convertible.” She followed the line of the road with her hand. “How close are these woods to the house?” “I’m not sure, but from the scale of this map, it looks like they run across the street and along one side.” “Then that’s got to be where I’ll set my stakeout up. Problem is what to do for transportation. I can’t risk being seen in the same car as you and it’s not impossible that Ferron, or whoever he hired, is still lurking around the area.” “I’ve already arranged for a rental.” She raised a brow, impressed. “You reading my mind now?” He shook his head, smiling. “Didn’t have to. I’ve spent enough time with you now to know when you set your mind on something, you don’t back down.” He grimaced. “I just didn’t know I’d have to play a leading role without you for moral support.” -271-

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She smiled. “Oh, I think you can handle it.” “Guess I don’t have much choice,” he said darkly. She took his arm. “Come on. Let’s go get some breakfast before they stop serving.” About an hour later, Brad walked out of the house and got into the convertible, smiling slightly as he eased the seat back so he could fit his big frame in. First time he’d driven his own car, he thought, starting the engine and backing out. Alex hadn’t been thrilled with the nondescript brown wagon he’d rented for her but had to admit it wouldn’t draw attention. His cell phone rang and he glanced at the number. “Miss me already?” “Always,” Alex answered. “Give me about fifteen minutes to catch up so don’t drive too fast. This heap won’t keep up. Don’t you dare laugh, either,” she warned. “Wouldn’t think of it.” “Yeah, right. First gas station before the neighborhood, pull over. We’ll finalize arrangements then.” “Lucky we got a fairly early start because it’s going to take four or five hours to get there and it looks like we’re in for some rain.” “Terrific,” she grumbled. “A stakeout in the freezing rain. Perfect.” “We could do this another day.” “Getting cold feet?” “I’m past that. Just watch yourself, Alex. It doesn’t look like anyone is following me but I can’t be sure. Keep an eye on your back as well. I might not have your sixth sense but something is telling me we haven’t fooled Ferron.” “I know. I’ll have my cell on and you do the same.” -272-

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He disconnected the call, not happy with this cloak and dagger stuff. The sun peeked through the threatening clouds as he eased out of the driveway. He slid his sunglasses on, his eyes scanning the road behind him. Traffic was light as he entered the freeway, keeping a steady legal pace. Knowing the way Alex drove, it wouldn’t take too long for her to catch up, he thought wryly. About twenty minutes later, he caught of glimpse of the wagon in his rear view mirror and relaxed against the seat. She kept a steady distance behind him, letting cars pass her and checking in periodically. The rain that had threatened the past hour or so started to pelt the window and he switched on the wipers. It was close to four o’clock in the evening before he crossed the bridge over the Ohio River. They hadn’t bothered to stop for anything other than gas and for perhaps the hundredth time he checked his mirror. Alex was two cars back. He exited the freeway, glancing at the map on the seat. The city of Marietta was picturesque as it sat along the banks of the big river. The fall leaves painted the water with a brilliant reflection as he drove slowly along, looking for street signs. The rain had slowed to a steady drizzle by the time he pulled into a gas station about half a mile from their destination, picking up his phone and punching in Alex’s number. “You okay?” “Fine, considering I could run faster than this car,” she grumbled. “I’m filling up now. Gas station is at the corner of East Fifth and Superior.” “I see you. I decided to stop a few miles back. Since you were going so slowly I figured I could catch up.” -273-

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“I thought you said that car was a dog,” he reminded her. “It is but I pushed it.” “What now?” “I’ve got to eye the area, get a feel for where the best place to set up would be. Go ahead without me.” “Be careful, Alex. Something doesn’t feel right about this.” “I will. Good luck.” He pulled out, catching a glimpse of her wagon before he followed the curve of the road. His fingers tightened on the wheel. He knew she was capable of taking care of herself but that didn’t stop him from worrying about her. They were later arriving than he would have liked and the dark clouds threatened to hurry dusk along. He slowed, finding the road he wanted and turned. The neighborhood was upscale and attractive and he found the house without difficulty. It was a charming Cape Cod sitting back from the road with a flower-edged, curved sidewalk leading to it. He pulled in the driveway, noting the sign indicating the home was protected by a security system. Not one of his but a good one, he thought. The garage was closed so there was no way of knowing if anyone was home. He rang the doorbell and waited. Impromptu meetings weren’t exactly his forte. There was a better than good chance that he was going to have this rather solid-looking front door slammed in his face. He saw the quick flick of a curtain. Moments later the door was opened by a tall, slender woman with dark eyes, her expression less than welcoming. “Can I help you?” Alex was the one with the clairvoyance but the moment Brad met her gaze, he felt the connection. He let himself speak from the heart, suddenly knowing it was the only way. -274-

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“My name is Brad Norton, Mrs. Fox, and I need to know if your son was killed by the same man that murdered my aunt.” Her eyes widened for a moment and then narrowed, a closed expression sliding over her face. “I haven’t a clue as to what you’re talking about,” she said curtly, starting to close the door. “I think you do. In fact I’m sure of it.” At the tone of his voice, she stopped, her eyes wary, her hand remaining on the door. He waited while she just stood there considering, the steady drizzle dampening his hair. Damn! This entire situation wasn’t in his comfort zone. Finally she spoke. “Can I see some form of identification?” He pulled a card out of his pocket and handed it to her. She read it and then glanced up at him again. “How did you find me?” “It’s a long story, ma’am.” She leaned against the door, eying him silently for a long moment. He could see the indecision on her face and decided to go with his instincts. “I can tell you that my aunt was killed just over six months ago, driving home in a quiet neighborhood in South Carolina. Shot and killed by what the police termed a drive-by shooting.” She crossed her arms. The raw wind whipped past him into the house playing with the woman’s dark hair, blowing it about her pale face. “I don’t see what that has to do with my son’s death, Mr. Norton,” she said curtly although he caught a glimpse of pain in her eyes. “My aunt knew Anna Ferron,” he said quietly. This time he got the reaction he desired. She glanced past him at the street and opened the door wider. “Come in.” -275-

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He stepped into the foyer, glancing outside as he turned to close the door. Alex wasn’t anywhere in sight which was probably how she had planned it. The woman ushered him into the large kitchen, motioning for him to take a seat. “Coffee?” He nodded and she poured him a cup, sitting across from him at the table. “What is it you want from me, Mr. Norton?” “Brad,” he said, leaning back in the chair. He could feel her pain, empathized with it. He paused briefly, searching for the right words to convince her he was sincere. An image of his aunt floated before him and suddenly he knew. “The hurt runs deep, doesn’t it? No matter how many days, then months pass, it’s still there at the most unexpected moments. At least that’s how it is with me.” She blinked the tears back and took a deep breath. “My husband won’t be happy you’re here, Mr. Worthington. He told me you called.” “I know that. If I were in his shoes I’d feel the same way.” “Then you would do well to talk quickly. He and my daughter are due back very soon.” She raised her eyes to his, their dark depths bright with unshed tears. “No matter how much I miss my son, there is no point in rehashing old history. The police certainly feel that way,” she ended bitterly. “And you accept that?” he said harshly. “Accept that someone ended your child’s life before it had even begun and not feel the need for revenge?” He shook his head. “Maybe you’re right, I am wasting my time. Because I’d like to strangle the person who murdered my aunt with my bare hands and I won’t stop until I find

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him.” He shot her a look, challenged her. “Maybe you don’t feel the same way.” She shot to her feet, eyes flashing fire. “How dare you accuse me of that! You don’t know how many days I couldn’t get out of bed after my son was killed. How many days I cried, my insides ice cold.” Tears ran down her face as she took a breath. “There is nothing I’d like better than pointing a gun at my son’s killer and pulling the trigger. But that’s not possible and I won’t jeopardize my family in the process.” “Because you’ve been threatened?” She didn’t answer immediately, sinking down in the chair once again, her gaze narrowing. “You said your aunt knew Anna Ferron. How?” He told her, leaving nothing out. The tears were still there when he was finished, running silently down her cheeks. “I should have gone to the authorities. Told them what I knew,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “But I was so afraid.” She stood, pacing, finally stopping to look out the glass doors. “Do you know how many times I’ve relived that moment in my mind? If only I hadn’t reached down to tie his shoes at that particular instant. If only I had picked him up from school that day. If only I hadn’t threatened to…” She stopped, putting a hand to her mouth. “Tell Anna Ferron about her husband’s vasectomy?” She spun, shocked. “How could you possibly know that?” “Because right before she died, Anna accused her husband of not wanting a family. Told him she had proof. You were that proof, weren’t you?”

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“Oh my God!” she cried, finding the chair again with trembling fingers. “She called me out of the blue one day about seven months ago. I knew about her although I didn’t when …” “When you had your affair?” She nodded, her lips curling bitterly. “I was so stupid and so incredibly naïve. I was finishing my last year of law and was working with my father in his practice.” She leaned forward, her eyes pleading with him to understand. “Russell was counsel for a case that intertwined with one Dad was working on. He was at the office several times and that’s where I first met him. He was suave, attractive and he literally swept me off my feet. I don’t think Dad really knew how involved we’d become until after I became pregnant. He was furious, especially after he did his own investigating and discovered the man was married.” “Did he approach Ferron?” Her smile was without humor. “Oh, he sure did. You had to know my father. He was a fair-minded man but when he was crossed there was nobody more tenacious. Russell was lucky he escaped with his face intact.” “Okay that makes him a coward but why the sterilization?” “That came later. I had our son and he refused to have anything to do with either of us. I was so hurt and so angry. I told myself it wasn’t fair that I had to go through a pregnancy, labor and delivery without my child’s father there. I focused all the anger and resentment I should have felt toward Russell on his wife. A woman I had never met. I called him the day after I brought the baby home and told him he wasn’t ever going to do what he had done to me to anyone else.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “I

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threatened to go to her unless he had a vasectomy and showed me the proof. To my utter shock, he agreed.” Brad shook his head. “Doesn’t surprise me at all. I’ve met the man. He’s an egotist. Having children and watching them grow would ruin his carefully constructed youthful image.” Her smile was hard. “Sad thing is, I wouldn’t put it past him to have killed his wife to preserve that persona. I didn’t know that when I met him, I do now.” She looked up, eyes glittering with unshed tears. “Please tell me that our phone conversation that day wasn’t the reason she was killed. Because I don’t know if I could live with that,” she said flatly, rubbing a hand across her temple. “It wasn’t. My associate and I believe it’s what Anna discovered later that led to her demise.” “What was that?” He could tell by the question and her expression that she had no idea what he was talking about. “Before I answer that, Mrs. Fox…” “Wendy.” He nodded. “All right, Wendy, who do you think killed your son?” Without hesitation, she answered. “Russell or someone he hired to do the dirty work for him.” “Then why not go to the authorities?” “And tell them what?” The tears were gone replaced by anger. “That the bullet that sliced through my son was actually meant for me?” She ran a hand through her dark hair. “No, I’m not delusional. I received a phone call threatening me to keep my mouth shut or the next time he wouldn’t miss. It wasn’t Russell’s

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voice but I knew the message was from him. I had suspicion but no proof.” “You told me you had several phone conversations with Anna Ferron. What were they in regards to?” She stood and warmed both their coffees. “Did you know she had hired a private investigator?” He shook his head. “No, but from what I’ve heard about the woman I’m not surprised.” “That was obvious from our conversation. The investigator traced Ferron to me and then, through birth records, identified my son as his.” She smiled again, sadly. “Ironically, the fact that she wanted children so desperately and I had just lost mine drew us together. Believe it or not, by the time the conversation was over both of us were in tears. And both of us shared something else as well. A hatred for one Russell Ferron.” Brad frowned. “What I don’t understand is why risk any contact with you at all after six years? After all, it wasn’t like you lived in the same area, knew the same people. Ferron might be a lot of things but he didn’t impress me as being careless or stupid.” “I think it had something to do with my father’s continued investigation after Michael was born. He became more and more furious when he found evidence of further infidelities in Russell’s past. His secretary, a well-known model, another socialite, the list is long and sordid. Only his love for his grandson prevented him from confronting the man.” She shrugged. “Mom died when I was very small and Dad was probably more protective than most fathers since I was his only child. He couldn’t let what Russell had done go.” She blushed slightly. “It didn’t matter that I told him I was just as responsible. After Michael was killed, he became -280-

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obsessed with proving Russell’s guilt. Ultimately, his obsession resulted in his death a little over a year ago.” Brad could have said more, suggested more, but at that moment they were interrupted by a child’s voice accompanied with the slamming of the front door. “Mommy, Daddy gots me a ice cream.” Brad turned and couldn’t help smiling. A small curly-haired toddler spilled into the room, her mouth and face covered with chocolate. Wendy bent down and gathered her daughter, chocolate and all, in her arms holding her close. “I can see that. Was it good?” “It was scrumptious.” A muscular, sandy-haired man walked into the kitchen, his face immediately darkening when he caught a glimpse of Brad. His gaze shot to his wife. “If this is who I think it is, I’m calling the police.” Wendy shook her head. “Its okay, Steven. Meet Brad Norton.” She stood with her daughter still in her arms. “Why don’t the two of you get acquainted while I wash Missy’s face?” She glanced at her husband. “I think you’ll find what he has to say very interesting.” They both watched her leave and then Brad turned and extended his hand and, after a slight pause, Steven Fox took it, his handshake firm. However, the eyes that met his were suspicious. “All right, Mr. Norton, why don’t you tell me what you have to say that is so interesting? It goes without saying that it better be good.” Brad knew he needed to be convincing so he opted for the truth without any embellishment. “I believe my aunt was killed by the

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same man that murdered your wife’s son, Mr. Fox. If you allow me just a few moments to explain, I think you’ll agree with me.” The man eyed him steadily for a moment and then nodded, motioning toward a chair. Brad didn’t waste words, telling him quickly and precisely what he and Alex had discovered. Steven let out a long low whistle when he was finished leaning back in his chair, the wary expression gone. “I’m not a lawyer, Mr. Norton.” “Brad.” “Okay, I’m not a lawyer, Brad, but it sure seems to me you’ve got a whole lot of circumstantial evidence. Maybe enough to get an indictment. What I don’t understand is what myself or my wife can do for you?” He glanced down the hall. “I met Wendy shortly after she had Michael.” His gaze returned to Brad’s. “That boy was like my own. If there was anything that could have been found incriminating that bastard, Ferron, you can bet I would have found it. That or my father-in-law would have.” “He did. That’s why he was killed.” “Killed!” They both turned as Wendy walked into the room. “I put Missy down for a nap.” She swung her gaze back to Brad. “What do you mean killed? Dad lost control of his car and crashed over an embankment. I saw the police report myself.” When Brad didn’t respond, she walked forward putting a hand on his arm. “I deserve to know,” she said quietly. He nodded. “You’re right, you do. Let me ask you something, Wendy. Did your father ever mention someone by the name of Corey Johnson to you?”

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She thought for a moment. “I don’t think I ever met him but I do remember taking several calls from someone by that name for Dad at the office.” The frown disappeared as she put the pieces together. “That’s the college student that was killed in West Virginia, wasn’t it? I remember Dad being extremely upset about that.” “It was. Phone records indicate your father and Corey phoned each other frequently in the last month before he was murdered.” She eased into the chair across from him. “I knew he was doing research on a plane crash that happened years ago. I overheard Dad talking to him several times about it. Why?” Brad took a moment to consider his words. He could see and feel the anger behind Steven Fox’s calm facade and understood it. There wasn’t an easy way to say what he had to. “It wasn’t a coincidence that Corey chose your father for advice regarding that plane crash. A simple school assignment turned into something much, much more sinister. Something that ended up costing both of them their lives.” “I don’t understand.” “You will when I’ve explained what my associate and I discovered.” There was silence when he was finished. Steven took his wife’s hand in his own. “Okay, my guess is the two of them discovered that plane crash was no accident. And somehow Russell Ferron was right in the middle of it. Am I right?” “You are. Corey Johnson was thorough in his investigation and, as he delved deeper, it appears he discovered enough evidence to make a strong case that Ferron had that plane sabotaged.” “Why on earth would he do something like that?” Wendy asked. -283-

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“Because he wanted the people on board dead.” Wendy’s eyes widened. “Who was on board?” “Laura and Lawrence Steadman,” Brad said bluntly. “Anna Ferron’s parents.” Steven shook his head. “I don’t get it. Why would he want to kill his wife’s parents?” “Because she wasn’t his wife yet and Lawrence Steadman, according to our investigation, already suspected Ferron wasn’t the kind of man he wanted his only daughter married to. Russell saw all that lovely money disappearing and he wasn’t about to let that happen.” “Don’t you think a double homicide is just a little drastic, even for Ferron?” “Not if you knew him, Steven,” Wendy interrupted heatedly. “Name dropping and money were a priority always. The right clothes, the right cars, the right restaurants, the right class of people,” she finished bitterly. “I can’t believe I was ever attractive to such a monster.” “Why wasn’t the man arrested then?” “Because Corey was killed before he could finalize his investigation and because the police weren’t convinced at the time.” “So that leads us back to the same old thing,” Wendy said obviously frustrated. “All suspicion and no evidence.” “Not necessarily. A flicker of hope flashed in her eyes. “You have solid evidence?” “No, but you might.” The flicker dimmed. “If that’s what you came for, then you’re wasting your time, Brad. Don’t you think I would have gone after -284-

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the man myself if I could have proved he killed Michael?” She shook her head. “I was almost as obsessed as my father at first. But after the threats started and I had Missy, I didn’t think the risk was worth it. Nothing was going to bring my son back and I wasn’t about to endanger my husband or daughter. I still feel that way.” “What kind of evidence are you looking for?” Steven asked. Brad stood, glancing out the front window at the same time. Still no sign of Alex, he thought. He wished to God he knew if that was a good or bad thing. The uneasiness he felt earlier returned. His attention returned to the two sitting at the table. “My associate and I were able to find Corey Johnson’s laptop computer, courtesy of his old roommate. On it, he had a prologue for the paper he was writing that indicated he had found significant proof that Russell Ferron either committed or hired someone to commit a double homicide, triple if you count the pilot of that plane. Unfortunately, the rest of the message was erased. Alex and I believe he did that purposely and made back up CD’s that he gave to someone for safe keeping. Someone like your father, Wendy.” “Are you saying that Dad was killed because he had possession of those incriminating disks?” “I can’t prove it but yes.” “I took over Dad’s law practice after his death and personally cleared out his desk. I found nothing like that.” “Did he give you anything before he died that might have had the disks inside?” “Not that I remember.”

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Brad paused, wishing Alex was beside him. This was her area of expertise, not his. “Wait a minute,” Steven said, rising. “I just thought of something.” A few moments later he came back into the room carrying a hard covered CD case and handed it to Brad. “This was in my father-in-law’s car when they pulled the wreckage up the hill. After the police did their investigation, they gave it to me. At the time I just put it in my own vehicle and forgot about it.” He glanced down at the scorched cover. “It’s amazing it survived at all.” Brad turned it over in his hand, detecting the still-faint odor of smoke. “You look inside?” “Yeah. Mostly country western tunes, a few audio books, but there are about six or seven at the back that don’t have labels. I just haven’t taken the time to find out what they were. It’s a long shot but they could be your missing disks. If they are, it was a great place to hide them.” “Only one way to find out,” Wendy said, rising. “The computer is in the den.” They moved toward the small room to the right of the foyer. Steven took the first disk and slid it in. Brad held his breath as he waited, hoping against hope that this would be the final shred of evidence they needed to nail Ferron. He was ready for closure, ready to move on with his life. He glanced out the window once again, that same uneasy sensation he had felt earlier pushing its way back inside his thoughts. Thirty years of living and it had only taken one pintsized red-haired PI for him to fall head over heels in love. Yet -286-

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something was telling him everything might hinge on what happened today. Worst part was he wasn’t at all sure it would end the way he and Alex envisioned “It looks like your hunch was right, Brad,” Steven said. “Take a look.” Wendy and he both leaned forward and began reading what Steven already had. Mr. Rinaldi, Keep these safe for me. They contain information that I firmly believe will serve to give the police enough evidence to arrest Russell Ferron for murder. It has been difficult but I finally have convinced them to meet with me next week so I can present my case. Thanks to your backing me up, they at least are willing to listen now. Professor Spear has looked through my reports and, although he says he’s impressed with my investigative skills, I can tell he thinks I’m reading way too much into all of this. My parents feel the same way. I’m not and I think, after talking to you several times, you won’t believe I’m imagining things. Ferron knows I know now and he, or someone he hired, is threatening me by phone daily. Although the authorities continue to be skeptical, they have tried to track the calls but have been unsuccessful. I’ve stopped answering them but the meaning is clear. I’ll feel better knowing you also have this evidence. After the police hear what I have to say, hopefully it will all be over. To tell the truth, I’m scared. Really scared. Yet, I can’t stop now. My roommate calls me obsessed and maybe he’s right. If, after you read what I have sent you, and feel the same way I’ll stop my -287-

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investigation. However, I don’t believe you will. Russell Ferron is guilty of homicide and he needs to be punished. As we’ve discussed, you’ll find I also have strong evidence that suggests he is also responsible for hiring someone to kill your daughter or grandson. I would appreciate your support when I meet with the police. I’m in way over my head here. Thanks, Corey Johnson Wendy ’s gaze found Brad's, her eyes dark with sympathy. “That poor kid.” Steven slid in another disk, his jaw working as he leaned back in the chair. “Let’s hope what he has is as good as he thought it was. If it is, maybe this nightmare will finally end.” Another typewritten page appeared and all three of them leaned forward once again and began reading.

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Chapter Thirteen Alex stretched cramped muscles as she leaned back in the car seat. She hated stakeouts, hated the monotony and hours of sitting in one place. The car was parked in a clearing she had found that hid it from sight and still managed to give her a view of the house through the light covering of trees. At least Brad had succeeded in gaining entrance to the Fox’s. She glanced at her watch. He had been in there for almost two hours which was more than she had expected. She had watched Steven Fox and his little daughter arrive home and was mildly surprised that Brad had managed to convince the man to allow him to stay. A soft smile played about her lips as she allowed her thoughts to drift to the man she had fallen hopelessly in love with. After years of keeping her heart whole, she had fallen hard and fast for someone who was, in many ways, exactly her opposite. She tugged her coat closer, not daring to start the car to chase the chill that was beginning to invade the inside. Leaning forward, she poured herself a cup of the hot coffee she had purchased the last time she had filled the tank and took a sip, grateful for its warmth. Her thoughts wandered back to Brad. He hadn’t been happy about being the one to ask the questions and she couldn’t blame him for that. Yet, she was the one with the police training so his role made sense. -289-

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It went against his nature to be spontaneous, act on the spur of the moment. Yet being spontaneous was second nature to her. It allowed her to be in tune with her inborn gifts, allowed her to act on them. She sighed, acknowledging the sliver of doubt that flickered through her at odd moments. Doubt that two people so different in personality and upbringing could make a life together. She only hoped their love for each other would be enough to overcome their differences. Taking another sip of coffee, she put the cup down, sending her telepathy forward, needing to reassure herself that all was well inside that house. It was a gift that relied on intense concentration, intense focus. She allowed herself a moment to scan the area, making sure no one was in sight. Satisfied, she closed her eyes, letting the images filter in. The visions played like a movie film starting with the foyer with its winding staircase gracefully rising upward and then moved to the big kitchen where two cups of coffee sat cooling although the room was empty. She could hear the murmur of voices and followed them, mentally recognizing Brad’s. The images disappeared as she focused on the bits of conversation she could decipher. “ …poor kid…didn’t know what he was getting into…pretty complete data…” There was a pause, the emotion flowing from Wendy’s voice as she spoke touching Alex as if she were standing next to her. “…how could someone be so cruel, so inhuman? And how could I have not known what an animal he was… before…before Michael was…”

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The empathy and the connection were so strong that she couldn’t stop the memories, Wendy’s memories, from continuing. Instinctively, Alex fought them, sensing what was to come next. Moments later, she was no longer inside the house but standing outside on the curb, an unwilling spectator to a tragedy she had no wish to see. She could feel her heart racing, feel the sharp pain of her fingernails digging into her palms as she clenched her fists. She could smell the school bus exhaust as it rumbled down the road, could hear the sound of children’s laughter and voices through the open windows. It was a warm sultry day, the aroma of late summer hanging heavy in the air. She watched as the slim brunette walked down the sidewalk to stand near the corner, waiting, an indulgent smile playing about her lips. The bus squealed to a halt and children began to clamber off, laughing and shoving. One small boy separated himself from the group and ran into the woman’s waiting arms. She lifted him, swinging in a circle, love emanating from her embrace. No! I don’t want to see this, she told herself, trying to pull back. Yet the images kept coming faster and faster. The boy turned, waving to friends and then took his mother’s hand as they walked down the street. Toward the same house that stood in front of her now. The woman threw back her head, laughing, and she could see the freckles on the boy’s face and the bright blue of his eyes as he sent a tooth gapped grin up at his mother. She recognized the shape of those eyes, the color… Without being able to stop herself, she swiveled her head, knowing she would see the man parked across the street, gun pointed, aiming. She wanted to warn the woman, the child, but she -291-

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could only watch in horror as, just as the trigger was pulled, Wendy Rinaldi bent down to tie her son’s shoe. She covered her face, trying to block a mother’s screams, the sight of the little boy lying crumpled on the sidewalk, blood everywhere. She could feel the warmth of her tears as she was finally able to will the vision away. She reached for the door handle with shaking hands, needing the cold air to clear her head, needing a moment to control the intense anger that followed the horror. Her fists clenched into tight balls. If it was with her last living breath, she intended to make Russell Ferron pay for what he had done to that woman and her child. She stepped from the car, stretching, and wiped the last of the moisture from her cheeks. Her arms felt heavy, her movements slow as she took gulps of fresh air to clear her mind. Opening her eyes and finally feeling like she had some semblance of control, she let her gaze traverse the area. The neighborhood was quiet at the moment, most people staying inside, avoiding the inclement weather. She wasn’t happy with the fact that she had been less than diligent in the last few minutes. Wasn’t happy that she had allowed her guard down, no matter how involved she was emotionally. Her instincts were telling her Ferron had to be somewhere near. His ego and need for self preservation wouldn’t allow anything else. Deciding to risk edging closer to the street, she locked the car and pocketed the keys. The damp leaves gave up a smell that was pure fall as she kicked them aside. Her hand roamed to the small pistol she had in her coat pocket. She had a very strong feeling that she would have to use it before the day was over. Trying to keep behind the trees and out of sight, she slowly moved forward. -292-

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A car backed out of a driveway and she stopped, shouldering up to a big oak and waited until it drove the opposite way. Relaxing, she straightened and then tensed once again, sensing the danger moments before she felt the gun pressed against her neck. Heart pounding and cursing her stupidity, she turned, not surprised to look up into Russell Ferron’s cold gaze. Into the same blue eyes that his son had inherited. “Surprise, surprise,” he sneered, lifting a brow mockingly, “what do you know, the sexy private investigator.” She settled her green eyes mockingly on his, fire spitting from them despite her fear. “What do you know,” she mimicked, “the cold-blooded killer.” The sneer disappeared, replaced by fury. He grabbed her hair and jerked hard, dragging her against his chest. “I can’t believe you thought I would be stupid enough to fall for that ploy of yours. I’m not as moronic as…” “Matt Fowler,” she finished, feeling a small sense of satisfaction at the way his expression tightened. He had her pinned against him so, instead of struggling, she concentrated on the hand wound painfully in her hair. Concentrated on reversing that pain. He growled a curse and let go of her, shaking his arm, a flicker of discomfort scrolling across his face before it was masked. “Listen, lady, I don’t have the time or the inclination to stand in this damn rain and toss words back and forth. Give me those disks and I’ll simply leave you and your lover alone.” She didn’t dare reach for her gun. “I don’t have them and even if I did, I wouldn’t give them to you,” she said calmly.

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He cocked his gun, the ice in his eyes deepening. “Unless you want to see Norton dead, I suggest you change your tone. I’d rather enjoy putting him down.” Anger replaced the fear as she straightened, taking a step forward, startling him into moving backward in reaction. “Those disks are on their way to the authorities, Russell. What’s even better is that there’s enough evidence in them to put you away for a long time. A very, very long time.” His face darkened as she held her breath, hoping he would buy her bluff. Her heart sank when he shook his head. “Good try, lady. You wouldn’t be sitting here playing stakeout cop if that were true. The kid couldn’t get anyone to believe him and that hasn’t changed. I made sure of it.” Alex laughed derisively. “Funny. If you believe that, then why are we standing in the rain across from your dead son’s house? Maybe you’re not as confident as you think you are.” He shrugged. “I don’t leave loose ends. Never have and never will.” “And I don’t let murderers go free. Never have and never will,” she shot back. His eyes narrowed to slits as he raised the gun again, annoyance playing across his face before he snorted a laugh. “You’ve got some guts, I’ll give you that.” He gaze slid up and down her body lewdly. “Now let’s take a walk across the street and have a nice little talk with your lover and my old mistress. If you don’t have those CDs, then Wendy has to.” He grabbed her arm and spun her around, shoving her forward. She had no choice but to do what he demanded.

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Alex, how could you have been so stupid! Any other case, any other investigation, you would have been more alert, known there was a possibility your plan wouldn’t have worked, prepared a back up scenario. Stupid! Stupid! As they emerged from the clearing, Ferron’s gun pressing painfully into her side, her gaze slid from left to right hoping for a diversion, anything to warn the people inside that house. Other than blowing leaves and the chill in the rain falling, there was nothing. She could read the murderous intent in his mind as he walked beside her. There was no question once they were inside that house, those disks in his possession, he intended to eliminate all of them, neatly and quickly. He actually believed that he could get away with multiple murders. After all, he had for years now. She stilled a dart of fear as she glanced covertly up at him. Underneath that suave exterior beat the heart of a sociopath. Worst part was, unless she managed to do something, there was a good chance he would get away with homicide once again. She let her mind connect with his, hoping to pull anything she could from him to stop what he was about to do. She shifted through his thoughts, shuddering as she sensed his lack of emotion, the insanity that he hid so very well. She focused harder and then smiled triumphantly. “That alibi you concocted isn’t going to work, you know,” she said, slowing deliberately as she glanced up at him. “Keep moving,” he ordered, nudging her forward with the gun against her back. “You’re a cool one, I have to admit. It’s a shame I’m in hurry,” he sneered, running a finger along her cheek and down her neck suggestively. “And what alibi might that be?”

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“You really should have resisted the urge to flirt with the blonde at the car rental agency, Russell,” she said derisively, fighting not to recoil at his touch. “She wasn’t as ditzy as she looked. You’ve made passes at her before and she recognized you. Only not with the name you showed her on your identification. She put the right name with the face and went to her boss who went to the authorities. It’s only a matter of time until they find you and when they do you’ll have some very interesting questions to answer.” His hand fell away from her and she saw the brief flicker of fear that ran across his face. “You’re bluffing. It won’t work. Keep moving.” She shrugged, stepping onto the curb in front of the house. Purposely catching her foot on its edge, she tripped, letting all her weight fall forward. Instantly, she felt herself yanked backward, her head jerking as he slapped her face. “Do that again and I’ll use my gun instead of my hand,” he snarled. She put a hand to her bleeding lip, incensed, raising furious eyes to his. “Touch me again and you’ll have to,” she spat back. She suddenly stilled, her mind connecting with someone inside the house. Ignoring Ferron, she closed her eyes briefly sending a telepathic warning, concentrating as her sister had taught her. She only hoped it would be enough. “Move!” Russell growled shoving her. When she opened her eyes, she caught the unease in his expression along with a quick flicker of fear. “What’s the matter, Russell. Do I make you uncomfortable? Good. There are things I see, I know, that I shouldn’t,” she -296-

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taunted, buying time. “Like how you arranged to sabotage the Steadmans' plane. Or perhaps we should talk about which hospital it was you had your vasectomy in without telling your wife.” She smiled. “Or maybe we should discuss which divorce attorney she had settled on.” Incensed, he shook her like a rag doll. “Shut the hell up!” His grip was cruel as he forced her chin up so their eyes met. “Now you quit playing games and do what I tell you.” Heart pounding, Alex dragged her feet up the porch stairs, praying someone was looking out those tall windows and would spy the two of them. It was then that she saw Wendy Fox standing next to Brad and someone else just on the fringe of her sight sitting in front of them, obviously reading something on a computer screen. She shot a glance sideways at Ferron. He was too intent on shoving her along to notice what she had. Sending her telepathy forward once again, she felt a quick flash of success when Brad’s head lifted abruptly, shooting a look directly at her. Their eyes connected for a brief moment and she saw the fear in his before she quickly glanced away. However, it wasn’t as easy to look past Wendy Fox. Their gazes connected, locked, for only a few seconds but in that span she felt the empathy, the communing of spirits between them. The woman acknowledged her with a quick nod of her head, bent to say something to her husband and then disappeared from view. She glanced at Ferron, relieved that he hadn’t seen what she had. “Ring the doorbell,” he growled, shoving the gun harder into her side. -297-

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She grimaced, doing as he suggested because she saw no other option. She listened as the melodic tone resonated throughout the house, remorse rushing through her. This was her fault, all her fault. She took a deep breath, her mind racing, sorting and discarding ideas. She couldn’t allow this man to finish what he had set out to do, wouldn’t allow it. Yet, to call the police would be suicide at this point. She knew it and she would bet they did as well. The door opened and Brad stood there, his dark eyes murderous. “Let her go, Ferron,” he said through clenched jaws, his gaze flying to Alex’s cut lip. “You get your jollies out of bullying women?” “Could be,” Ferron smirked, shoving Alex forward. “Let us in, Norton, or your lover dies.” Brad’s anger was strong and fierce and it took everything he had not to lift his fist and punch the man in the face. Only the terrifying sight of the gun pressed against Alex stopped him from reacting. That and the gaze she raised to his, fury not fear in their green depths. He moved aside, allowing them to pass and closed the door, leaning against it. Ferron shoved Alex further into the foyer, keeping her in front of him and motioning for Brad to move ahead, keeping his back to the wall until he did. “Give me your gun,” he demanded. “Now!” he snarled, yanking Alex against him hard. His hand ran along her side, finding and pocketing her pistol. His smile was ugly. “How stupid do you think I am?” She let out an involuntary cry of pain as he ground the gun against her ribs, his gaze never leaving Brad’s. “You’re armed just like little Miss Detective, here. Now hand it over.” -298-

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Brad lunged forward but came up short when he raised the pistol with its deadly silencer pointed directly at his head. “Don’t even try it.” He put his hand out and grabbed the weapon Brad gave him, shoving it into his coat. “Not as smart as you thought you were,” he said smugly, his arm loosening just slightly from around Alex’s stomach, his hand brushing against her breast. “What’s the matter, lover boy?” he taunted Brad. “Don’t like me touching your woman?” His hand brushed over her again. “Too damn bad.” His eyes swiveled around the room. “Where’s Wendy?” “Getting our daughter up from her nap,” Steven said, coming to stand beside Brad, fists clenched. “What do you want, Ferron?” The smile was unpleasant. “You know exactly what I want. Give me the disks.” “When hell freezes over,” Alex said succinctly while at the same time bringing her elbow up and sinking it deep into Ferron’s stomach. When he doubled over, releasing her, she swung around and brought her leg up in a perfect arc, connecting with his face. With a roar, he grabbed his chin and stumbled backward, waving his gun wildly. Brad seized the opportunity and lunged forward, attempting to grab the gun. Only it was a second too late. Alex watched in horror as the mirror in the hallway exploded, sending the heavy frame toppling toward Brad, its weight causing him to stagger back and fall. Ferron leaned against the front door still breathing hard and fired again, the bullet making a deceptive ping as it left the gun. Brad jerked and then was still. “Brad, no!” Alex screamed, rushing forward, heart pounding as she cradled his bleeding head in her arms. Steven started toward -299-

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them, only stopping when Ferron cocked the gun again, wiping the blood around his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m not a patient man,” he snarled. “I want those disks and I want them now.” “The police know about you, Ferron,” Steven said through clenched teeth. “If a college kid could follow the trail, they will as well. It’s only a matter of time.” Russell shook his head, a sneer playing across his handsome face as he lifted a gloved hand. “Not going to happen, my friend. No clues and no disks make for no evidence.” He shot a glance down the hallway. “Wendy, get out here or your husband is victim number two,” he called, training the gun on Steven and rubbing his sore jaw. “Leave her alone,” Steven said harshly, striding toward the den. When Ferron raised his gun, he ignored him and continued walking. “You want the disks or not?” Russell didn’t reply but watched with narrowed eyes as Steven ejected the CD they had been reading and pushed it and the entire case toward him. “Go ahead, take it,” Alex said tightly, rising, blood staining her clothing and tears still damp on her cheeks. “It doesn’t matter because there are copies. Corey Johnson might have been a frightened pawn in all of this but he wasn’t stupid.” “You’re lying,” Ferron said calmly. “The cops didn’t believe him because I made sure they didn’t. An anonymous letter here and a phone call there.” He shook his head smugly. “The kid was a freak and everyone knew it.” “A freak who knew how to put the pieces together,” Alex said, moving away from Brad’s prone body, drawing his attention to her. -300-

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“You think I was stupid enough not to keep people informed of what we’ve discovered, Russell?” She laughed despite the tears still glistening in her eyes. “The paper trail is a mile wide. Wide enough for the authorities to walk right through it.” He aimed the gun, a sneer curling his lips. “Sorry to disappoint you, sugar, but I covered my tracks, very well. Just like I have today.” She shook her head. “Your hired murderer was too greedy, Russell. He couldn’t resist keeping that ring he lured your wife to her death with. Couldn’t resist wearing it.” His expression tightened, changed. “So what. Doesn’t connect me to him.” “That’s where you’re wrong. You see, we’ve got phone records, Russell. Records that connect you to Fowler and Fowler to your wife and that expensive ring. Oh, not to mention Corey Johnson to Fowler to you. A nice little ring of clues that the police in several cities are following.” She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. “Looks like you are as stupid as I thought you were.” His face grew red with anger and he took a step forward before he caught himself. “Shut up!” “Why?” she goaded him. “Don’t you like being exposed for what you really are?” He eyed her silently for a moment and then startled her by growling a laugh. “You’ve got some balls, I’ll give you that, lady.” His expression narrowed again, grew cold as he leaned against the door, his hand steadying on the weapon he held. “Wendy,” he called loudly, not taking his gaze from the two of them, “quit playing games and get out here.” “Just leave, Ferron. You’ve got what you came for.” -301-

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“He can’t to do that, Steven,” Alex said, moving to stand next to him. “We’re those loose ends he doesn’t like. He’ll kill us just like he did Michael. Isn’t that right, Russell. You were responsible for your son’s death?” He followed her movement, his eyes ice blue, their lack of emotion giving her the chills. “I didn’t pull the trigger but yes. The kid just got in the way but it worked out. Kept everyone quiet until you messed things up.” “Just got in the way!” Wendy said from behind them, stepping into the kitchen, her face pale but composed, a large gun held steadily in her hands, pointed directly at Ferron. “From what, Russell? Killing me instead?” She locked her gaze to his, her expression tight and controlled. “You don’t know how many times I wished it had been me. Dreamed and prayed it had been. You didn’t even have the courage to do it yourself.” She moved forward, stopping just in front of Brad, glancing down at his still body briefly, her gaze flicking to Alex. “I wish you could have been there and watched your son bleed to death,” she said, a sob hitching her voice. “Watched his sweet face lose all its color and those blue eyes so much like yours go lifeless.” Her voice grew firm. “Then again, you might not have cared after all. You’re a pretty sad excuse for a human being, aren’t you, Russell?” “Shut the hell up!” “Why? Because you can’t bear to hear the truth?” She raised the gun higher. “I’ve dreamed about this as well, you know. Dreamed about having just one chance to put a bullet right between your eyes for what you did to me and to our son.” Russell whipped his aim from Wendy to Alex and Steven, a smirk playing about his mouth. “Truth is, my lovely Wendy, you -302-

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didn’t plan very well.” He cocked the trigger. “Drop the gun or you can watch your husband die just like your son did.” His smile was ugly. “Your choice, my dear.” Alex shot her telepathy forward once again, pleased when she saw an answering flicker in Wendy’s eyes. She moved her gaze to Brad still lying on the floor and then back to Ferron, hoping Wendy was astute enough to understand her message. “Yes, it is, isn’t it,” Wendy said, stepping back suddenly just as Brad sat up and lunged for Ferron’s legs, knocking him off balance. He fell hard, bellowing with outrage, wrestling with Brad for the suddenly loose weapon. His fingers settled on it just before Brad’s and he kicked hard at his face with his foot knocking him back. Steven rushed forward, fists raised, murderous intent in his eyes. Russell fired just as Brad shoved his fist into his shoulder sending the bullet into a curio cabinet, glass flying in every direction. “Die, you bastard!” Russell screamed, pointing the gun at Brad, his eyes glaring maniacally. Brad jerked to the side just as he squeezed the trigger, the bullet imbedding itself in the wall behind him. Ferron raised the gun again, aiming it at Steven instead, his expression almost gloating. “Okay, you first then…” The sound of the gunshot had all of them jumping. Russell jerked, staring down at the scarlet on his shirt, his face darkening with fury. “Why you little bitch…” he screamed at Wendy, the arm holding his weapon suddenly shaking hard as he tried to aim it at her, shooting off the mark again.

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She stood there unmoving, eyes glittering. “This is for Michael,” she said harshly, squeezing the trigger once watching without reaction as Ferron stumbled back. “And this,” she said as he tried desperately to aim again. “This one is for me.” The gunshot was loud as it found its mark. Blood stained the white paint as he slid to the floor. His eyes flickered once, then became dull and lifeless, the pistol falling from his lax fingers. They all just stood silently for a moment, Wendy poised like a statue, still aiming at the dead man on the floor. Then ever so slowly the tears began to flow and she simply crumpled, letting the pistol slide from her fingers. Painfully deep racking sobs shook her body as she covered her face with her hands. Steven gathered her in his arms, tears sliding down his own face. “It’s okay, baby. Everything is going to be okay now.” Alex flew to Brad, her hand going to the bleeding cut on his forehead, her hands roaming across his chest, reassuring herself that he was uninjured. “I thought he had killed you,” she whispered, tears threatening the gaze she lifted to his. He pulled her close, palming her hands in his. “Lucky for me he was a bad shot and you have magic in those fingers.” Alex stifled a sob and stood on tiptoe to cover his lips with hers. “I love you,” she said breathlessly, her voice thick with tears. He kissed her upturned face. “I know,” he said quietly. They both turned at the sound of Wendy’s continued sobbing. Steven was kneeling next to her on the floor, rocking back and forth, his arms holding her close. “I was so afraid to call the police…so afraid…” she sobbed. “He would have killed you and my baby just like he did Michael…”

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“I think you were right about that closure,” Brad said softly. “I bet she’s never allowed herself to really grieve. Really let go.” Alex’s thoughts went back to that scene she had relived earlier. “No mother should have to go through what she did.” Her eyes, brilliant with tears found his. “I saw it, Brad. Felt the love those two had for each other, watched as that little boy hugged her.” She took a deep, steadying breath. “She held him in her arms as he took his last breath.” She glanced at Ferron’s body, her expression hardening. “It’s fortunate she shot him before I was able to. Because I have a feeling I might not have been able to stop until that gun was empty.” Brad shook his head, rubbing a finger along her wet cheek. “No, you might have wanted to but you wouldn’t have.” “Mommy,” a small voice echoed from the recesses of the hallway, “let me out! I have to go pee! Now!” Wendy lifted her head, her cheeks still wet and horror lingering in her expression. Yet, in the midst of the broken glass, the blood and the tears she struggled to her feet and began to laugh. Granted it bordered on the hysterical but it was a welcome sound nonetheless. “Mommy’s coming,” she called, wiping the tears away with the back of her hand. At her husband’s questioning gaze, she managed a watery smile. “I locked her in our bedroom.” She allowed herself one glance backward, her expression tightening. “I don’t want her to see any of this.” Alex moved out of Brad’s arms, nodding. “I’ll call the police.” “Mommeee…!” their daughter called again. Alex laughed, giving her a slight nudge. “Go.”

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Wendy turned to face her. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you so much.” Alex glanced around the ruined hallway, the body still lying in front of the door, staring lifelessly. “For what? Putting you in danger and destroying your house?” “For giving me some closure and my life back.” Steven stood, an arm settling around his wife’s shoulders. “That goes for me as well.” His expression grew taut. “It was only a matter of time before he would have come after us. I knew that.” He shot a quick look at Ferron’s body. “Wendy had too much on him.” He kicked at the glass in front of him. “This means nothing.” “Mommee…” Missy cried plaintively, pounding hard on the door, “let me out!” Brad picked up the phone and dialed 911. “I suggest you take care of your daughter before you have to take care of something else,” he said, smiling. Wendy nodded, her lips twitching despite the lingering tears. “We’ll be next door at the Stone’s if you need us.” Brad hung up the phone. “The police are on their way.” Wendy walked up to Brad, hugging him, and then did the same to Alex. Finally, her gaze slid past both of them to the lifeless body leaning against the door. “It’s hard to believe that Michael was the son of such an evil man. So hard to believe I actually thought I was in love with him at one time. Was I really that stupid?” “Love is never stupid,” Alex said, glancing at Brad, her heart in her eyes. “Can you compare your feelings for your husband with those you had for Ferron back then?” “There is no comparison,” Wendy said vehemently. -306-

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“Then you have your answer.” Wendy’s dark eyes found Alex’s green ones for a moment and then she nodded. “I guess I do at that.” She turned and tucked her arm in her husband’s. “Come on, let’s go rescue our daughter.” She stopped and turned after a few steps. “Won’t we have to answer some questions?” “Probably, but,” Alex responded, reaching down to pick up a CD lying on the floor, “I think Corey Johnson will supply the answers better than any of us could. I’ll be willing to bet now they’ll listen.” The faint sound of sirens in the distance began to grow in volume. “Go,” Brad motioned to Wendy. “We’ll take care of things here. You daughter needs you.” She nodded, wiping the remaining dampness from her face with the back of her hand and straightened. “Not as much as I need her right now,” she said huskily. The room was silent for a moment after they left, Brad and Alex standing still until they heard the sound of the garage opening and the side door closing. Alex shuddered slightly as the smell of blood and death began to permeate her consciousness. She glanced out the window and caught sight of flashing lights. “Come on, let’s go outside to meet them.” She turned, rubbing her arms with her hands to chase away the sudden chill in the air. “Wait,” Brad said, pulling her into his arms, his voice thick with emotion. “First, I think it’s time.” She looked up at him in surprise. “Time for what?” “For roses and lace and the ‘til death does us part thing.”

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Her eyes widened. “Are you proposing to me in the middle of a crime scene, with a dead body staring at us and you all bloody and my lip swollen double?” “That’s exactly what I’m doing.” The tears began to stream down her face again. She reached up to touch his lips with slightly unsteady fingers. “Why, Brad Norton, there’s hope for you yet.” He captured her hand and squeezed. “So what’s the answer?” “Do you really need one?” “I guess not.” He muttered, leaning down to give her a swift kiss. “Ouch!” she complained, touching her sore lip. “I’m sorry, love, I forgot about that cut.” She smiled up at him through her tears. “Don’t they say that any love worth its salt comes with some pain?” “Do they say that?” Brad said softly, his heart in his eyes. She yanked his head down, murmuring against his lips. “Well, I’m saying it and that’s really all that counts, isn’t it?” “Is that right?” “Absolutely,” she murmured. “And by the way, the answer is yes.” He slipped an arm around her waist, tucking her against him. Opening the garage, door they walked out into the suddenly refreshing rain as the first squad car roared up the driveway.

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Epilogue “Why are we stopping here?” Alex asked as Brad slid into the only available parking space in downtown Charleston. “Dad’s called at least five times since we’ve left the airport. If we’re not home in the next fifteen minutes, he’ll call again. Besides, I can’t wait to see them.” “What? You can’t stand to be with your husband any more?” Alex glanced lovingly at the sparkling emerald and diamond ring on her finger. “You’re right. I just wanted the ring and not the man. You can leave now.” He laughed, bending down to catch her lips. “Not in a hundred years, wife.” He opened the door and walked around to hers. She slid out gracefully. “I’m serious though, Brad. In spite of the wonderful honeymoon, I’ve missed my family. Knowing Mom, she’s probably already got dinner ready and she won’t be happy if we’re late and it gets cold.” “That’s not going to happen,” he said confidently, guiding her toward the sidewalk and the elegant old house that stood before them. She stopped, smiling up at him. “Oh is that right? So now you have ESP as well?” “Don’t need it.” He grinned as they walked up the sidewalk.

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It was then Alex realized where they were. “Brad, this is an art gallery.” She glanced at the price tag of the portrait in the window. “A very expensive art gallery.” He nodded, stopping at the massively elegant front door. “It is at that.” She gave him an impatient look. “So why in the world are we stopping here? I don’t want to shop for art right now. Besides…” “Remember that wedding gift I never gave you?” he asked, enjoying teasing her, enjoying the slight frown racing across her forehead and the flash of her green eyes. Her gaze shifted back to his. “No.” “Well I do. This is it.” Frustration flickered across her face. “What is it?” “This,” he said, opening the door and ushering her inside. It took a moment for her to adjust to the dimmer light. When she did, her eyes widened in surprise. The large center room was filled with elegantly dressed people, people that looked oddly familiar. They were moving among the various art pieces that were beautifully displayed while muted classical music played in the background. In the middle of the room was a graceful fountain surrounded by tables filled with canapés and bottles of wine and champagne. She shook her head. “Brad, I don’t understand.” “Take a moment to study the artwork and you will,” he said, tucking her arm in his and leading her toward the far wall. As she moved closer to the nearest picture, her heart stilled. She knew that scene. Intimately. The castle, the lightening, the waves crashing. Spinning, she strode to another, again recognizing

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the artwork, then another and another. This was her work, her art. All of them! “Those pictures look mighty fine up there don’t they, lass?” a voice said behind her. She turned in confusion, shocked to see her father standing in front of her. “Dad, what are you doing here?” Patrick Leahy gathered her in his arms, glancing over her shoulder at Brad. “Taking care of my daughter are you, young man?” “I am, sir.” “Well that’s a good thing then. I’ve missed you, child,” he said, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “I’ve missed you as well, Dad, but what…?” “Patrick, there are other people who want to see the two of them, you know,” Eileen Leahy said, slipping a slim arm around her daughter’s waist and pulling her close, her other hand squeezing Brad’s. “Welcome home, you two.” “Mom!” Alex said, hugging her and then focusing narrowed eyes on Brad. “Okay, what’s going on here?” “May I have everyone’s attention, please?” They turned and Alex’s eyes widened once again as she recognized the speaker standing on the slightly raised dais in front of the room. “We have only a few more minutes until the exhibit is open to the public,” Andrew Norton announced, smiling at the couple in front of him. “First of all, I’d like to say on behalf of everyone here, welcome home, Brad and Alex. We’ve missed you.” “What exhibit?” Alex asked, amid the applause, getting the distinct feeling she knew. -311-

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“The exhibit Mom and I arranged after you left for your honeymoon,” Alicia said saucily, moving forward to give both of them a hug, looking dramatic as usual in a bright red off the shoulder dress. “Did you know you married a very sneaky man? Hunky and very, very sneaky.” “Are you telling me that you are having an exhibit of my art here? Now?” “That’s exactly what we’re saying,” That familiar insecurity reared its ugly head as she let her gaze roam around the room. “I can’t believe you did this. I just paint for fun, for myself. No one else is going to want to buy this stuff.” “Want to make a bet?” Alan challenged, both hands full of food as he leaned down to kiss his sister. “Hey what do you know, you’ve actually got a tan. Amazing. Thought for sure you’d come back looking like a lobster. Irish skin and all, you know,” he said, winking at Brad. He piled one sandwich on top of the other to free a hand to shake Brad’s. “Anyway, Uncle Brian and Aunt Kathy just bought that picture over there of the little kids playing in the sand and Rosa and Miguel picked out two of your flower pictures for the baby’s nursery.” “That’s because they’re friends and family.” “Not all of them,” Brad said, motioning to an older woman who was standing in the back of the room. Alex followed his gaze. It appeared, whoever she was, the woman was engrossed in the painting in front of her. Curious, Alex walked toward her recognizing the scene as she drew closer. It was one of her favorites. The lighting emphasized the peeling red paint on the half caved-in barn as it stood in the middle of an abandoned field alive -312-

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with wildflowers. There was an old tractor in front of its open doors, the green color still visible on its rusted body and part of a wagon wheel leaning to one side. Weeds and ivy crawled through the cracks in the wall adding their own natural covering. In the midst of the aged and old stood a toddler, her blond curls catching the wind. Her lips were pursed mightily as she blew on the wisps of dandelion she held in her chubby hands. The woman turned when she became aware of Alex standing next to her. She was tall and willowy, her hair pulled back in a tight style, the dark color sprinkled with gray. She eyed Alex silently for a moment and then shook her head. “I certainly hope you aren’t serving crow among those canapés over there,” she said briskly. Alex straightened, suddenly putting a name to that face and voice. “Mrs. Maine?” she said incredulously. “In person,” the woman replied, turning back to the painting. “You know, even when you were in my class you were never conventional, never followed the norm. You have no idea how much that irritated me.” She shook her head. “That barn is off center, the colors don’t blend, they simply glare at you and you’ve mixed two completely different themes.” Alex suddenly felt as if she were thirteen once again. “I’m sorry you don’t like it,” she said stiffly. The brow went up again. “Did I say that, young lady? I think it is brilliant. Bold, powerful and it pulls at the heartstrings. I’ve already purchased it.” A smile softened those stern lips. “I should have known after that artistic temper tantrum all those years ago that you had it in you. Although it doesn’t sit well with me, Mrs. -313-

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Norton, I am going to apologize. Not for demanding obedience in my class because any teacher must have that but for not recognizing what your husband obviously has, a truly unique talent.” “Thank you,” Alex said, tears pricking her eyelids. “Believe it or not you don’t know how much that means to me.” Brad appeared at her side. “Oh, I think she does, don’t you, Mrs. Maine?” “I’m beginning to.” She shook her finger at him. “I have a suspicion I’m here to prove a point, young man. However, be that as it may,” she said, humor glinting in her eyes, “it was worth it just to see this young lady’s expression.” Alex laughed, shooting a loaded look at Brad. “Since we’re being honest, I have to admit I would never have continued painting if it hadn’t been for you. You made me mad enough, ticked off enough that I painted just to show everyone I could. Although, I still can’t believe my husband thinks my work is good enough for an exhibit.” The older woman glanced at the door as people began streaming in. “Well you’ll soon find out, won’t you,” she said dryly, waving her hand toward them. “Good luck.” Impulsively, Alex reached forward and hugged her. “Thank you for being here.” “Don’t thank me, my dear, thank your husband,” she retorted. “I’ll be back tomorrow to collect this and perhaps buy another if,” she paused, her lips twitching as she glanced at the crowd, “there are any left.” *** -314-

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It was only much, much later that Alex was able to corner Brad in the shower. The evening had been filled with so many emotions that she felt totally drained. People, strangers, actually had competed against each other for her paintings. She had been overwhelmed by their compliments and secretly beyond thrilled. Yet, a small part of her still couldn’t forgive Brad and her family for arranging this whole thing without consulting her. The big old fashioned bathroom with its black-and-white tiled floor and ornate mirror and windows was pleasantly warm and she couldn’t resist inhaling her husband’s familiar cologne. She sighed, stretching. It was so good to be home. Back in her now completed space. Her expression tightened. They had discussed their living arrangements together and had agreed her home seemed the best choice for setting up house. Just like they should have discussed exhibiting her paintings, she thought, her always volatile temper beginning to build. Steam filtered into the space as she opened the shower door. He didn’t hear her immediately and she felt herself weakening as she gazed at that incredible physique. She knew every curve, every muscle intimately. It took all her will power not to simply shed her clothes and join him. Brad felt the cooler air and turned. “Joining me?” he asked. When she didn’t move, he shrugged. “No?” He adjusted the spray. “Okay, let me have it. You ticked or thrilled?” She shook her finger at him. “Just where do you get off, Brad Norton, planning something like that without consulting me? Didn’t anything about those marriage vows sink in that skull of yours?” -315-

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He grinned unashamedly. “Which part?” “You know what part. The honor my wishes part.” She didn’t have time to move before he reached forward and pulled her, clothes and all, into the shower. Warm water cascaded down her back, soaking her white silk dress in seconds, molding it to her body. “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” She sputtered, wiping water out of her eyes as she glared up at him. “Honoring your wishes.” “What?” “Sure. Don’t you remember saying I was too predictable? Too afraid to let myself go? Well, you looked like you needed to relax and I can’t think of anything more relaxing than a nice hot shower.” “Fully clothed?” He let his gaze roam over her now-transparent dress. “You’re right, but I can change that,” he murmured, easing the material from her shoulders while leaning forward to cover her skin with his lips. “Brad, I am absolutely not going to…” She began then stopped, her breath hitching as his mouth roamed across her exposed breast sending shivers of need up and down her spine. Just when she thought she could resist, could still stay angry, her fingers found the small scar on his forehead. It was a stark reminder of what could have been or what might never have been. Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to make love to her husband. To the man she had almost lost. It didn’t matter that the spray of water was cooling or that steam was filling the room. Their lovemaking was slow and erotic, -316-

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lips and hands touching and being touched. When they came together, it was sweet torture and then explosively powerful. Alex opened sultry eyes as Brad turned off the water and nudged her onto the tile floor, grabbing a huge bath towel to wrap around her. “Seems to me this shower thing is becoming a habit,” she said huskily, grabbing another towel to dry her hair. “Very clever.” “What?” he asked innocently. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.” Those dark eyes she found so incredibly sexy found hers and their expression changed, grew serious. He toweled himself quickly and then took her hand and led her to the bed throwing the sheets back to pull her down beside him. He covered them both leaning up on one elbow to look at her. “Alex, you’ve given me back my life and my family. I owe you in more ways than I can count.” He put a finger on her lips when she started to respond. “Just listen. Dad and I have a relationship now we would never have had if it hadn’t been for you pushing both of us past the resentment we’d built. It’s for damn sure Maggie wouldn’t be wearing that diamond ring on her finger if you hadn’t set Dad straight about what was really important.” She smiled through a mist of tears, recognizing the sincerity in his voice. “I just shoved the two of you toward what you would have eventually resolved yourself.” He shook his head. “I’m not so sure about that.” He leaned down to kiss one bare shoulder. “I was only half a person before I met you. Successful, independent and wealthy but empty inside.” He settled back and drew her closer. “You filled that emptiness.”

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Touched, she ran a finger along his lean cheek. “So you arranged tonight to thank me?” He nodded. “It was the one part of you that didn’t exude confidence. The artist in you created beautiful things but the reprimanded child in you wouldn’t allow others to hurt you again. I wanted to release that child’s fears.” His dark eyes met hers. “Was I successful?” It took a moment for her to find her voice. “Damn you, Brad Norton! I was all set to lay into you for all of this and then you pull the wind right out of my sails. Why is it you always find the right words before I can work up a really satisfying tantrum?” He laughed. “Natural talent and fear of that Irish temper I think, my love.” She laughed and then slid out of his arms and rose, slipping on the cranberry silk robe that lay on the chair. “I was going to wait until tomorrow but I’ve changed my mind. Now is the perfect time.” “For what?” “To give you my wedding gift,” she said haughtily. “You’re not the only one capable of keeping secrets, you know. I’ll be right back.” He settled back against the pillows and waited, a smile playing about his lips. Living with Alex would never be dull and certainly never predictable. His thoughts strayed to the past six months and the smile disappeared. The police had indeed listened to Corey Johnson’s series of CD’s and that, combined with the other evidence he and Alex had compiled, had cleared Wendy Fox of any charges. A thorough search of Ferron’s office and home had given them all the evidence they had needed. Enough evidence to satisfy everyone involved that -318-

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he had been responsible for each and every one of those murders, including his aunt’s. His jaw tightened. His aunt had been killed simply because she had acted as a friend to someone who needed one desperately. His anger was less but it hadn’t entirely faded and he doubted it ever would. She had been cheated out of so much. Her son’s marriage, future grandchildren, and a chance to grow old with a husband she had loved. He closed his eyes and it was as if she stood in front of him. He could see her laughing and shaking her finger at him as she had so often when he had been too stubborn and intense as a rebellious young man. “Brad, my boy, stop worrying about things you have no control over. What is done is done. Only worry about what is going to be. That you have the power to change.” His thoughts were interrupted when Alex walked back into the room carrying a tall square package wrapped in glistening green. She put it down on the bed in front of him, that hint of vulnerability again just flickering for a moment in her eyes. He leaned forward and lifted it, detecting the faint odor of oil underneath the wrap. His gaze flew to hers sensing something even before he removed the last of the paper. His heart rammed into his chest as he tilted it toward the light. The painting depicted two women standing next to each other, one holding a small child, love emanating from her eyes as she hugged him close. The other had an arm wrapped around a teenage boy. There was a mutiny about the boy’s eyes but an almost unwilling lilt to his lips as she had one hand under his chin forcing him to look up into her laughing eyes. The images stood

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apart on the canvas yet together, the background and color and the boy connecting them, overlapping time and the women. Alex stood still, hardly breathing as she watched the different expressions play across his face. Even after all this time, there were depths to her husband she wasn’t sure she would ever reach. Those old fears came rolling back. Would he recognize the child and the boy as himself or the women that had meant so much to him growing up? Was she a skilled enough artist for the love to shine through the canvas and oil? “How did you capture them so perfectly?” he asked hoarsely, rising and gently placing the painting on the dresser. She had to fight back the sting of tears at the emotion she heard beneath the question, thrilled that he had seen what she had meant for him to see. “Your father gave me pictures of both your aunt and your mother. I pulled the rest from your memories.” “My memories?” She nodded. “There is so much of your mother and your aunt inside of you. I feel it every time we embrace and every time we make love. It is their influence that molded you into the man I fell in love with.” He motioned to his mother. “I don’t remember her.” She smiled, shaking her head gently. “Oh, but you do. The memories might be buried deep inside but they are there, believe me.” He was silent for a long moment, just standing there staring at the canvas. Finally, he turned and gathered her in his arms, burying his face in her fragrant hair. “Can you read my mind right now?” he asked huskily.

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She closed her eyes for a brief moment and then they flew open and she dimpled enchantingly. “Your aunt would be shocked at such thoughts!” He tossed a quick look at the painting once again and then shook his head, a wicked smile flickering across his lips. “On the contrary, dear wife, I think she would ask what took me so long!” He nudged her backward until both of them sank onto the bed laughing. And, as the laughter turned to passion, light seemed to filter through the curtains into the room and highlight the painting. And the women in that painting, just for a brief moment, appeared to join hands and smile. Brad caught the movement and stilled, blinking. “Did you see that?” he asked, sitting up to stare at the painting. “What?” Alex said, feathering a kiss along his jaw. He shook his head. “Nothing. I guess I’m more tired than I thought.” “I definitely have a cure for that,” she murmured. “Oh, you think so?” he growled, leaning down to nip her lips. “Without a doubt,” she answered, wrapping slim arms around his neck. She began to massage his neck and shoulders using her fingers to relieve the mild tension she felt in his muscles. He captured her hands, his dark eyes glinting with humor. “Strange I thought you were going to use another form of relaxation.” She paused. “You want me to stop?” “No way. Feels great,” he muttered, edging next to her so she could continue. “You’re pretty good at that, my love. Fact is you’re pretty good at a whole lot of things. That’s why I married you.” -321-

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“Strange, I married you for an entirely different reason.” He lifted one heavy eyelid. “And that would be?” “Alicia told me to.” He laughed. “That’s not hard to believe. What is strange is that you listened to her.” She gave him an indignant look. “My sister can be very intuitive when she wants to be, Bradley Norton.” “That’s one word you can use.” She gave him a shove, suppressing the urge to laugh. “Hey, you should be grateful to her. She told me I had to marry someone with layers. You, husband, definitely have layers.” She let out a shriek as he flipped over, pulling her under him as he shoved the sheets backward with his foot. “And you, wife, have removed every single one of them.” Just before his head dipped, he smiled wickedly. “Guess I’ll have to thank Alicia after all.” And, just before she lost herself in her husband’s embrace, she raised her gaze to the women in the painting. And winked…

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About the Author When she was little, Anita Whiting spent hours reading. It didn’t matter whether it was in the bathtub, in a car or huddled under the covers with a nightlight after her mother thought she was in bed. By the time she was in the sixth grade, she was trying her hand at poetry and short stories, some of which were published in the school newspapers. However, it was only after raising three children and working as an obstetrical nurse for years that she finally tried her hand at a full length novel. It went so well that she wrote several more. Nothing pleases her more than reading a good book and she hopes her readers feel the same. If you would like to learn more about Anita M Whiting and her work, visit her website at http://anitawhiting.tripod.com or send an

email

to

[email protected].

Cocktail hour will never be the same.

A Man for Marley © 2007 Arianna Hart

Marley Sullivan is willing to do almost anything to claim her inheritance, even if it means putting up with sexy Hunter O’Malley for six months. Marley has worked hard for years turning O’Malley’s Pub into a New York hot spot. This is her chance to finally own it; all she has to do is live, work, and not fall in love with Hunter. Racecar driver Hunter O’Malley thinks being stuck working at his family’s bar for six months is a fate worse than death. If he could get Marley to stop bristling at him and use her ever so kissable mouth for something other than ordering him around, it might not be so bad. But when heated tempers lead to hot lust, will six months be long enough after all? Enjoy the following excerpt for A Man for Marley: Hunter watched the scene with a mixture of curiosity and repulsion. Almost like one would view a car wreck. He’d wondered what the mysterious Vivian looked like. The reality was almost frightening. Marley stood behind the bar, clutching a dishtowel like she was holding on for dear life. Her eyes were wary, and she made no move to come out from behind the safety of the bar. Hunter looked back at the woman whom Marley called mother with such distaste. On first impression he could see why. He had seen her type around the racetrack plenty of times. She had to be

in her late forties, early fifties, but dressed like she was in her teens. Vivian wore skintight Capri pants in a leopard print and highheeled sandals. Her black shirt was at least two sizes too small for her sagging figure and it had an oval cut out to show off her cleavage. On a younger woman the shirt would have been suggestive. On Vivian all it did was emphasize her losing battle with gravity. There was no resemblance between mother and daughter that he could see but it was hard to tell from the amount of cosmetics Vivian wore. She looked like she’d applied her makeup with a trowel. Her eye shadow was caked up to her viciously tweezed eyebrows and she had fake eyelashes that would make a drag queen proud. Her hair was bleach-blonde, sprayed and teased to about a foot above her head. Hunter wondered what miracle of modern chemistry could keep that much hair standing so high in this heat and humidity. His mind kept coming back to the mystery of how this woman could have produced a daughter like Marley. “Aren’t you going to give me a hug? I came in person to offer my condolences because I couldn’t get you on the phone.” She clattered her way into the pub. Hunter could smell her musky perfume before she got within three feet of him. When she got to where Marley stood behind the bar, she dropped her enormous pocketbook on the counter and leaned over as if to embrace her daughter. Marley stood stiff and frozen and made no effort to return the gesture. “So what can I do for you, Vivian?” Marley’s voice was ice cold. “Oh, nothing, I just wanted to see how you were holding up now that the old man is six feet under.” She opened her purse and

dug around in it for several seconds, missing the look of pain and suspicion on Marley’s face. Hunter didn’t. “I’m holding up fine so far. Now why are you really here?” “Is that any way to talk to your mother?” “It wouldn’t be, if you were a real mother. But I know you and you don’t do anything without a reason. So I’ll ask you again, Vivian, why are you here?” “Not a real mother? Now that’s a fine how do you do! You know I didn’t have to have you, didn’t have to ruin my figure carrying you around for nine months.” She dug a pack of cigarettes out of her purse and put one to her heavily painted lips. “Do you think it was easy raising a kid all by myself? Hell no, it wasn’t easy, ungrateful brat. Always ‘Mommy, I’m hungry’ or ‘Mommy, I need clean clothes’ or ‘Mommy, when are you going to be home?’ Nag, nag, nag. That’s all you ever did as a kid and when I come to see you in your time of sorrow, how do you treat me? Like I’m some beggar on the street. I don’t have to stay here and be treated like this you know. I should just walk right out of here without looking back.” She made no move to leave. “No one’s stopping you. It wouldn’t be the first time you left without a second thought.” Hunter couldn’t believe the drama unfolding. Everyone in the pub carefully kept their eyes averted from the scene but he could almost feel their ears straining to hear every word. With the way Vivian was carrying on, they didn’t have to strain hard. “Oh God, can’t you get over that already? So I kicked you out. You landed on your feet didn’t you? It was probably the best thing I ever did for you. They even have a name for it now, ‘tough love’.” Vivian dug around in her purse some more.

“Hey, sugar, do you have a light? I can’t seem to find mine.” Vivian gave a syrupy smile to Hunter. It was enough to make him queasy. He reached into the ashtray between the two of them and slid the pack of matches her way. “Thanks, handsome.” She took her time lighting the long cigarette despite the no smoking laws. “I didn’t come here to fight with you, Marley. I’ve missed you. You don’t come around, you don’t call, how am I supposed to know how you’re doing if I don’t stop by where you work?” “Come off it, Vivian. How am I supposed to visit you even if I wanted to? I never know where or with whom you’re living. The only time you ‘miss’ me is when you’re between boyfriends or out of money. Which is it this time?” “That hurts.” Vivian wiped her eyes, although Hunter noticed that no tears marred her makeup. “How can you say something like that to me? Your own flesh and blood. I came here for you and you treat me like this?” Vivian turned to Hunter again. Tom had made an escape to a nearby table. Close enough to help but out of the line of fire. Hunter wished he had been as quick as the old codger when Vivian addressed him. “Do you hear how she’s talking to me? Would you treat your mother like this?” “I think this is between you and Marley,” Hunter said, trying to stay out of the argument. “Nonsense, I make it a point to always listen to an attractive man. So tell me, when you see your mother, do you insult her and treat her like dirt?”

“My mother’s dead.” He hoped that would be the end of the conversation. He hoped in vain. “Oh you poor thing!” Vivian tottered over to him and pulled his head to her ample bosom with surprising strength. Hunter peeked at Marley, pleading silently for help. It was a battle not to suffocate from an overload of the woman’s perfume. The more he tried to pull away, the harder she pressed him to her pillow-like breasts. He couldn’t think of a tactful way out of the situation, and he was starting to get desperate. “Would you let him go for heaven’s sake?” Marley snapped, the disgust in her voice clear. “He’s young enough to be your son.” “Some men like mature, experienced women,” Vivian said, letting Hunter up for air. “Anyway, I was just offering him my sympathy.” “That’s not the only thing you were offering,” Marley muttered loud enough for Hunter to hear. “So what’s it going to take this time?” “I’m sure I have no idea what you mean?” Vivian sniffed with an air of one who’s been sorely injured. “Come off it. How much money is it going to cost me to keep you from making more of a scene at my bar?”

Will the smoldering touch of a stranger be enough to keep her safe?

Alone in Forrester Rock © 2007 Amy Mistretta

Victoria Valentino is officially dead. After walking in on her fiancé’s horrifying involvement with the Mob, she’s placed in the Witness Protection Program and shipped six hundred miles away to the forsaken town of Forrester Rock. Alone and afraid, Tori meets Walker Garrison, a drifter with a secret past of his own. Tori discovers herself uncontrollably drawn to this man, his cabin and his bed. But can she trust him? The trouble is, someone in Forrester Rock already knows who she really is… This book has been previously published and has been revised from its original release. Enjoy the following excerpt for Alone in Forrester Rock: When she left the sanctuary of her room, Tori found Walker at the bathroom sink, splashing water on his eyes. She had hoped the morning could be forgotten, wished he had never followed her out there to begin with. Why had he gone after her? Tori realized she hadn’t taken the time to find out. But she would. Walker Garrison was going to tell her why he’d been hiding in the grass, invading her privacy, spying on her. “Do they still hurt?” she asked. “It stings a little.” He grabbed the towel, blotting his eyes.

“I feel awful for spraying you.” Tori went back and took a seat on the couch, still facing the bathroom where Walker stood. “Although I shouldn’t,” she whispered. It didn’t take him long to join her. He put his boots up on the coffee table, which he always did when sitting in that particular spot, then crossed his arms over his chest. “I shouldn’t have startled you.” “I’m glad you can admit it,” Tori couldn’t help pointing out. “Now that we have that straight, why don’t you tell me what you were doing out there to begin with?” “Let’s forget about it.” “No. I want to know why you were following me.” “I wasn’t following you.” “Then what the hell would you call—” “I was protecting you,” Walker admitted through clenched teeth. Okay, now they were getting somewhere. “Why is it you think I need protecting?” “Do you always make such a big deal of things?” Walker got up and went to the fridge. He returned with two beers in hand. “Look, you’re new around here. I was done with the bridge, so I just thought I’d make sure you were okay. That’s all.” Tori took the bottle he extended to her. She wanted to believe him, but she also wished there was a way she could find out if he had been sent there to protect her. “Are you sure that’s all there was to it?” “Yes, now can we change the subject?” Walker took a deep swallow of his beer. “What’s with you and the waitress?” Tori asked. Walker turned to her, letting his gaze drop to her lips.

“Forget I asked. It’s none of my business.” Tori stood, but Walker pulled her back to the couch. She wanted to run from this man, yet she couldn’t. Though she wasn’t sure what he expected from her, Tori couldn’t pull away. His touch was gentle, unlike that of a man who intended her harm. Slowly, he ran a finger up the length of her bare arm. She wondered if he could feel her shivering beneath his fingertips, wondered if he could tell how scared she was. She wasn’t afraid of Walker. She was afraid of the way he made her feel. Surprisingly, she found herself closing her eyes, leaning into his touch. This could very well be the biggest mistake of her life, but she just wanted to forget. And if Walker Garrison could do that for her, even for a few moments, who was she to stop him… On an impulse, Walker pulled her close. Tori’s breasts barely touched his chest, and her sharp intake of breath told him she hadn’t missed the sensation. He inched her closer, burying his face in her hair, which still retained the aroma of her shampoo. His nose lingered there for a second longer, savoring it. He let his arms drop, but she tightened hers around his waist. What he had told her was true. He had wanted to protect her, to make sure nothing happened while she was alone in the forest. Everything had turned bad so fast. He had been furious when she had sprayed him with that damn pepper spray. But could he blame her? She had been scared. It was the fear constantly looming over her that had forced Walker to calm down and try to make her more comfortable. Then they had fallen. Never in all his life had a woman had such an effect on him. He knew Tori had been madder than hell at

the time, but whether she felt it or not, something about her had relaxed back in the woods. He thought he could control it, thought if only he made a joke out of it, as he had in front of Kate, the feelings would go away. Yet here they were… He should’ve never sat next to her, never dared to steal a touch. This would do nothing but complicate today, tomorrow, every day from this moment on… Yet here they were. Walker peered down at her upturned lips. Her eyes had been closed, but when she sensed his hesitation, she opened them. Walker bent, letting his lips brush over hers, feeling the slight bit of pressure that said she was ready, knowing if he continued, she wouldn’t resist. Could he do it? He liked his life the way it was. What did he have to offer this woman? His protection? Would that be enough? He let her go and immediately she fell back onto the couch. He stood up and retreated to his bedroom. He was beginning to have feelings for Tori, feelings he couldn’t let develop beyond this moment. He would only complicate her life right along with his own. That’s why he needed to stop this from happening. And fast. Was it too late? Instead of continuing through his bedroom doorway, he looked back. He wanted to tell her why he’d stopped so abruptly, but knew it wouldn’t make a difference. He left her there on the couch. Walker sat on his bed, his head in his hands, knowing it had been the right thing to do. If he hadn’t opened his eyes he wouldn’t have seen her shadow approaching the doorway. Tori had gotten up and followed him,

entering his room. Walker stood up from the bed as she moved in closer, little by little, until she was touching his lips with hers. He could tell by the way her body trembled against his it hadn’t been easy for her to make such a move. Walker drew his face away from hers, ever so slightly, wanting to give Tori the chance to retreat. She remained there. He leaned in, welcoming the way her kiss seemed to draw strength from his, with her showing no signs of wanting him to stop. Not a word was shared between them. Walker knew she would realize what a huge mistake they were about to make and walk straight out of his bedroom. His need for her was too strong to take that chance. He reached out, waiting for Tori to place her hands in his. When she did, he pulled her close, enough to feel her heart beating rapidly in her chest. The warmth from her fingertips radiated through the fabric as she took hold of his shirt, with confidence, slowly pulling it over his head. Her hands rested on his chest and Walker was aware their trembling had subsided. Their clothes disappeared, piece by piece, as if they had gradually melted off their bodies. He stood back, only for a moment, taking in Tori’s beauty before bringing his lips back to hers. Her body responded to his kiss, his touch, as her nails lightly grazed his back. Up until this second, he hadn’t realized how much he had wanted her.

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