Detective Mason Callahan stopped the DVD and briefly hit rewind. He ran his fingers in a rhythmic beat on the table as he deliberately watched the bit with the kiss again. He looked at the two people sitting at the table with him and raised a curious brow. The tension in the station interrogation room ratcheted up ten notches. Dr. Campbell turned pink and looked away, but Harper stared right at him, his eyes cool.
“You two move fast, don’t you?” Mason tipped his head at the TV, keeping his gaze locked with Harper. “And someone didn’t like watching the two of you go at it. His cussing at the end says a hell of a lot.”
Harper continued his glare, saying nothing. The tall man deliberately leaned back in the cheap chair and crossed his ankles under the table. Despite the relaxed pose, his body vibrated with intensity. Dr. Campbell sat next to Harper with her hands clenched together on the table, her lips pressed in a tight line, her gaze glued to the screen. Her eyes were wet, but not spilling over. Yet. She hadn’t said a word since the DVD had started.
The narrow room in the state police building was drab. Only a conference table, a few chairs, and a TV/DVD unit on a rolling cart. The room needed a paint job. The dingy-white walls showed scuff marks and gashes from careless chair backs. The ceiling bulged in one small section from an old water leak no one had bothered to repair, and Mason’s chair squeaked shrilly every time he shifted his weight.
“I think we can easily assume someone is following Dr. Campbell.” Detective Ray Lusco spoke evenly and quietly from his position against the wall. Mason knew he was trying to put a lid on the ego contest threatening to boil over at the table. Ray folded his arms across his wide chest, biceps bulging under the white dress shirt.
“What about Suzanne? This isn’t about me.” Dr. Campbell waved a hand at the TV. “What happened to Suzanne? Did he keep her tied up long enough to deliver that baby?” Her pitch was off, her wet eyes angry.
“This is about you,” Harper turned to her. “Suzanne is dead, but you’re alive and someone who knows what happened to Suzanne is keeping close tabs on you. I don’t like it.” The last sentence was delivered to Callahan, who nodded in agreement.
“I don’t think we’re jumping to any wild conclusions by linking your follower to the murders of Trenton and Cochran. Suzanne is the primary link we have between DeCosta and the other dead men. Everyone was involved with the DeCosta case somehow, and now these people are paying for it with their lives. We talked about this the other day at your house. If this creep continues in this pattern, you could be on his list. Maybe even next.”
“But why’d he send the DVD to let her know she’s being watched?” Harper muttered.
Mason shook his head at Harper’s question. “Your guess is as good as mine. He’s definitely making a statement about something. We need to figure out who shot the video. DeCosta was caught within twenty-four hours of Suzanne’s abduction, so he didn’t shoot the first part, but it was obviously someone close to him. Close enough for DeCosta to trust with his victims. We’re going to look at his family and close associates. It’s very probable that the same person shot both pieces of the video.” He met Dr. Campbell’s curious gaze. “And it’s someone who knew where you were going last night or else followed you from work.”
“This guy apparently knows of your strong connections to Suzanne,” Ray added. “He’s sending a message, wanting you to know that he knows about it. He’s also telling you that he’s the one who initiated current events.”
“Current events?” Dr. Campbell rubbed a palm against her forehead.
“Trenton’s and Cochran’s deaths. Finding Suzanne’s remains.” Harper’s words were clipped.
“Any ideas who it could be? Have any strange men approached you lately? With the ego we’re seeing here, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s come close or even spoken to you.” Mason watched Dr. Campbell’s face pale a shade lighter.
“It might not be a stranger to her,” Ray interjected. “It could be someone from her past. She brushed shoulders with a lot of people involved in DeCosta’s trial.”
Callahan nodded. “Any recent connections with old contacts, people you don’t see that often?”
At the alarmed look Dr. Campbell shot Harper, Mason straightened in his noisy chair. “What? What happened?” Dr. Campbell was shaking her head, her eyes locked with Harper’s, disagreeing with his nodding scowl.
Harper exhaled. “We had a run-in with her ex-husband last night.”
“Last night?”
“Before...that.” Harper nodded at the TV screen. “About ten or fifteen minutes before.”
“What kind of run-in?”
“Nasty.” He flashed an apologetic glance at Dr. Campbell. “He called her a lying bitch in front of fifty people. Loudly.”
“Name?” Ray was calmly taking notes.
“Frank Stevenson,” Harper stated rapidly before Dr. Campbell could speak.
What kind of creep had she married? Mason studied Dr. Campbell as she continued to shake her head.
“It can’t be Frank. He’s an asshole but not a killer.”
“When were you married? Did he know about DeCosta and Suzanne?”
She nodded. “Frank and I dated during college. We got married the year after...Suzanne disappeared.” She swallowed hard, but her eyes projected control. “We all hung out together. Frank traveled with the team to most of the meets. Everybody knew him.”
“Was he at the meet in Corvallis?” Mason asked.
Anger flashed across Dr. Campbell’s face. “I saw DeCosta’s face that night. I saw him take Suzanne. It wasn’t Frank!”
“I’m not saying it was. I’m just establishing where he was during certain events. From that DVD, we now know there were at least two people involved back then. One in prison and one who shot the video.” Mason’s gut burned. He’d missed something a decade ago. He’d stupidly thought it was over the minute they’d arrested DeCosta. And now, seeing proof that Suzanne had been kept alive for months after DeCosta’s arrest, he knew someone else had a hand in Suzanne’s kidnapping. “So your ex-husband knew where you were last night, and I assume he knows where you live?”
She nodded with a condescending gaze. Dr. Campbell clearly thought he was chasing a dead end. But at this moment, every man who came in contact with her was a potential suspect. Especially the weird ones.
“He couldn’t have been the one to shoot that video,” Harper spoke up. “I saw Stevenson last night. He was shocked as all hell to run into her. I doubt he followed us out to her truck. Especially with his current wife in tow.” His words were firm, but Mason saw a flicker of doubt waver in Harper’s eyes.
Mason gave Harper a narrow look. “You might be in this creep’s sights now too. Whoever it was sure didn’t like that kiss.”
Dr. Campbell sucked in her breath.
“Are you saying our suspect’s got some sort of freaky attraction to Dr. Campbell?” Ray screwed up his face in thought. Mason could hear the wheels spinning in Ray’s head. “Maybe that’s to her advantage.”
Mason heard what his partner didn’t say out loud. If the guy had the hots for Dr. Campbell, maybe he wouldn’t kill her. Not right away anyway.
“Like it was to Suzanne?” Dr. Campbell spit out the words. She’d caught Ray’s meaning too. “Look what his attraction did to her.” She slammed both hands on the table. “Where’s the baby? How come I’m the only one concerned about the baby?”
“First of all we aren’t positive there is a baby. And second, that pregnancy scene on the DVD is old. The threat to you isn’t old. The threat is right now.” Mason fought the urge to point his finger at the dentist.
Dr. Campbell ignored his hints about her safety. “Maybe the DVD isn’t old. Maybe he held her captive for years before she got pregnant.” She was grabbing at straws.
Mason shook his head. “I briefly talked to the ME last night and he suspects she’s been dead close to a decade.”
“Did the report say she’d given birth?” asked Lacey. “The bones from her pelvic girdle would indicate a pregnancy.”
“They would?” Mason wasn’t too surprised. It never ceased to amaze him what anthropologists could tell from a pile of bones. “I don’t remember if it said anything about pregnancy.” He mentally reviewed the recent report. “I’ll double-check.”
He fixed his gaze on Dr. Campbell. “I want you out of sight until this settles down. This sicko has an unhealthy interest in you. Get away for a while, go on vacation or something.”
“Vacation?” she sputtered. “You want me to go on vacation while people are dying? Go lie on a beach and drink mai tais? I’m not going to hide! I’ve got a normal life that I worked long and hard for! I’m not going to let a ghost scare me back into a closet.” Her voice cracked and Mason glimpsed a hint of the hell she must have suffered through a decade ago. She’d probably jumped at every shadow for years.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Mason studied the new glaze over her eyes. It hadn’t been there a minute ago. She projected a strong front, but an old crack in that wall was starting to widen. Mason didn’t want to see what she’d buried behind it.
Harper touched her arm. “He’s got a point. You should get out of town.”
She yanked her arm away, her face dark. “Don’t tell me what to do.” Harper jerked back at her bitter words, his face reflecting the irritation Mason felt.
She stood and wrestled into her thick coat, grabbing at her purse.
“I’m done here.” She headed for the hallway, avoiding all eye contact, and Ray opened the door for her. “Keep the DVD. I don’t want to see it again.”
Mason listened to angry boot heels click down the hall.
“She won’t go far. I’m her ride.” Harper stared at the door, his jaw grinding in frustration. He leaned in to Mason. “Is there anything you can do for her?”
“You mean protection?”
Harper nodded, his gray eyes grim. “He could yank her off the street or snatch her out of bed at any time.” He paused, bringing Ray into the conversation with a harsh look. “You both know he wants something from her.” Looking back at the blank TV, his tone dropped. “Can you imagine the hell her friend went through?”
Mason could easily imagine. And he could easily project Dr. Campbell’s face onto Suzanne’s swollen body.
“There’s not a lot we can officially do. This is all conjecture. But I feel like she does need to be watched 24-7. We can’t do that.” Mason held Harper’s gaze.
Harper slowly nodded back.
Jack’s breath caught as he stepped out of the police building and discovered he couldn’t see Lacey. He looked up and down the quiet city street. He couldn’t be more than thirty seconds behind her. Jack jogged through the packed snow toward the parking lot where he’d left his truck, hoping she’d blown off her steam as she waited for him. He glanced at the sky. Three more inches of snow were predicted in the next twelve hours. If he was going to convince her to leave town, now would be the time to do it.
Why was he making her his business? Didn’t he have enough on his plate?
He needed to focus on his company, save it from publicity hell. He didn’t have time to play big brother. After all, he barely knew the woman. Her wide smile popped in his brain, and it fired his lungs like a blowtorch. Whom was he trying to fool? Christ. There was no logic to his feelings. Attraction doesn’t follow logic. He only knew what he felt in his gut. He’d wanted to shield her from that damned video, hide her face against his jacket, and sink his hands into her hair. He couldn’t stand the pain and vulnerability he’d seen in her stricken brown eyes.
He wanted to hit something. Someone.
Jack rounded the corner of the brick building and spotted a small figure next to his truck. Thank God. He wasn’t going to let Lacey out of his sight again. His stomach calming, he fought the urge to shake some sense into her.
Lacey wouldn’t respond if he tried to manhandle her. She’d just shove back harder, be more contrary. If he was going to watch out for her, he had to be subtle, make her think his ideas for her safety were her own. He stepped closer and, seeing the fresh anger on her face, he promptly dumped his reverse psychology plan in a snowdrift. The woman would do whatever the hell she wanted.
Her greeting to him confirmed it.
“You and those cops aren’t going to tell me what to do.” Lacey leaned against his truck, her eyes hard. “I’ve worked my butt off to put that nightmare behind me, not let it control my life and now you’re all telling me I have to hide.”
“Not hide. Just get out of his path.”
“Damn it!” She stomped a heel. “This psychopath is turning my life inside out again. I got through it once, but now...I can’t live and be constantly looking over my shoulder. Even if I left town I’d still be doing that.”
Jack stood still, letting her vent. He wanted to touch her, calm her, but he knew she wasn’t ready. He said nothing and shoved his fists in his front pockets. Tension locked his spine in place. Wait.
She suddenly stilled and her hands flew up to cover her mouth as her eyes widened. “Where’s that baby? Suzanne ripped a hole in my heart when she vanished and now seeing that she was pregnant, the hole’s doubled in size. I feel...I feel like I lost a baby. I know this doesn’t feel remotely close to a mother who’s truly lost her child, but I’ve got to look for it. I have to at least try. I owe Suzanne that much...I shouldn’t have let go that night. None of this would have happened if I hadn’t let go.” Lacey faltered and her gaze grew haunted. “Do you think the baby’s father is the killer? Oh, God. Does he still have the child?”
Her brown eyes turned darker in her pain, and he took that as his cue.
He drew her into him and pressed her tight against his body, wanting to absorb her grief. She buried her face against his coat and drew jagged breaths. Tentative arms slipped around him inside his jacket, and he felt her heart thud against his chest. He hung on, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and gently resting his chin on her hair, breathing deep of her female scent. He closed his eyes against his stir of arousal and he wished away her pain.
How many years had it taken to heal from the emotional anguish of her attack? Her scab had been ripped away today, exposing vulnerable nerves. Jack thought of Cal and swallowed hard. Cal had been more than a friend and mentor to him. And he’d died brutally at the hands of a killer. Possibly the same person stalking Lacey.
His arms flexed tighter as he remembered the video clip of the kiss. He spun around, holding Lacey tight, scanning for a camera, a body, anyone. He felt eyes watching them. Callahan was right. Jack had to get Lacey somewhere safe. Hawaii, Fiji, Antarctica, he didn’t care.
Jack clenched his jaw as anger flushed through his veins. He would keep her safe. He didn’t have a choice. His heart was overpowering his head.
And he’d find that baby for her.
Ray and Mason watched the couple from the second-floor window.
“Fuck!” Ray spun away and kicked his chair, sending it crashing across the room. “We can’t do a thing for her.” His voice dropped an octave. “That’s such bullshit. Why can’t we stick her away somewhere until this is over?”
Mason remained silent at the window, leaning on one hand against the sill as he ignored the rare tantrum. Ray’s question was rhetorical. They didn’t have the manpower or the money. They both knew it.
Mason watched as Harper spun around to check his surroundings. Good man. Maybe you are the right person to watch over her. If she couldn’t have a cop for protection, an ex-cop would do. Harper bundled her into the truck, took one last scan of the parking lot, and sent snow flying with his tires.
The possessive vibes Harper was giving off rivaled Mason’s mutt’s behavior with his favorite chew toy. Harper would do his damnedest to keep Dr. Campbell safe. If she let him.
But what about that reporter...Brody? Mason pictured the blond man who’d hovered over Dr. Campbell like a vigilant mama bear. The man had emitted a subtle aura that hinted at a turbulent, explosive side. Mason remembered from Harper’s first interview that he’d agreed Brody was a pain in the butt.
Where’d Brody fit in this cozy threesome?