“You can’t make me stay here!” Lacey planted her feet on the home’s walkway, eyeing the strange house in anger.
“That’s right, I can’t. But if you know of another anonymous place to stay, I’ll be right beside you.” Jack tugged at her arm.
“What?”
She didn’t budge. He stepped in front of her and squeezed her shoulders with heavy hands, grabbing her attention. “Lacey! Your friend is missing. Three men are dead. Do you really think you should be by yourself?” He wanted to shake her.
“But I don’t even know this guy. I don’t want to impose on anyone’s privacy or lead a psychotic killer to his house.” She looked past him to the front door.
Jack refused to take her to a hotel. He didn’t know how electronically connected their killer was, but Jack wasn’t about to risk his credit card being tracked. There was no doubt in his mind the killer had connected him with Lacey. He’d sent that message via DVD.
“Alex and I go way back. There’s no one I would trust more with my life or yours.” He held her gaze, silently imploring her to listen to reason. She wasn’t one of his employees. He couldn’t order her around. She was a stubborn woman who was more worried about a friend who’d died a decade ago than herself.
The front door squeaked as it opened and Jack glanced back, but couldn’t make out his friend’s face in the shadows. A tall man stood silently in the doorway, the light behind him. Jack’s tight grip on Lacey’s shoulders relaxed. Good. He needed another male on his side and Alex Kinton took shit from no one.
Lacey pushed around Jack and stuck out her chin. “I’m so sorry. He dragged me here. I don’t want to burst into your home. I didn’t know—”
“It’s all right. If I needed it, he’d do the same for me.” Alex’s gravelly voice cut her off. The man sounded like he hadn’t spoken in a week.
Her mouth closed abruptly. Alex’s tone and words were firm.
Heavy silence floated in the nippy air, and Jack crossed his fingers that she’d listen.
“OK. If you don’t mind...” Her voice lost its muster.
Alex took a step back, indicating for them to enter. Jack gave Lacey a small push on her back. She reluctantly stepped forward.
Lacey tried to cover her hesitation. Glancing up she got a good look at the man. Drop-dead handsome was her first impression. Emotionless and shuttered was the second. Jack had told her that he and Alex Kinton had been in the same college fraternity and that they’d stayed tight over the years. She gave a weak smile and stepped self-consciously past the big silent man into the house.
Behind her, the men shook hands and slapped each other on the shoulder. Lacey turned in time to see Alex smile, but it was more of an automatic movement of his lips than a smile. Maybe they were imposing on him. She glanced at Jack, who was genuinely delighted to see his friend.
“Damn. It’s good to see you. How’s it goin’?”
“It’s goin’.”
Male bonding.
Jack steered Lacey into the kitchen area. It looked like a female didn’t live in the house. Everything was bare. Counters uncluttered. The absolute basics for furniture. Nothing on the walls. The only personal items she spotted were photos on the fridge. She stepped closer and saw Alex with another man. It had to be a brother. There was too much resemblance with the dark hair and light eyes. Both Alex and the other man had wide grins, but the brother had a bit of a blank look in his gaze. Lacey didn’t see any pictures of women.
“Are you guys hungry?”
The last thing Lacey wanted to do was to take food from this man, but she was starving. She and Jack had made a mad dash through a department store for clothing because he’d refused to take her home. They hadn’t stopped for food.
“God, yes.” Jack apparently didn’t mind eating his friend out of his house.
“The fridge is pretty empty. How ’bout I grab some Chinese?”
Lacey’s stomach growled loudly in response and both men looked at her. Jack with a grin and Alex expressionless.
“I think that’s a yes.” Jack put a proprietary hand on her shoulder, which she promptly shook off. She saw a faint glimmer of amusement flash across Alex’s face.
“Fine. I’ll go grab something.” He met Lacey’s eyes for the first time. “There’s a blue guest room down the hall on the right. There’s an adjoining bath if you want a shower or something.” His gaze brushed her from head to toe and then dismissed her as he left the house.
She felt like he’d found her lacking, and she touched a self-conscious hand to her hair. Her last shower had been before last night’s gala. She’d changed out of her ripped dress into new clothing at the mall, but Alex had looked at her like she wore nasty scrubs from an autopsy.
After Alex left, Lacey stared at the door, looking like a wounded kitten to Jack.
“He hates me.”
“He doesn’t know you.”
“I know. But he didn’t even give me a chance to talk with him first.”
“He talked to you more than he’s talked to any woman in the last year.”
“What?” She blinked.
Jack shrugged. “He’s kind of a loner. He used to be a federal marshal but left the job a while back. I drag him out for beer and a game about once a month.”
“Not married?”
“Divorced. Alex tried to make it work, but it was too much after his brother died.”
“His brother died? Is this him?” Lacey pointed at the picture and Jack nodded.
“He was mentally handicapped. Drowned. Actually was murdered by one of his caretakers.”
“Holy shit.” Lacey couldn’t imagine. “He seems so...”
“Quiet? Reserved?”
She shook her head. “Unhappy.”
Jack pictured Alex’s cool eyes. “He’s been like that since the death. It’s been a few years and he’s never been quite the same.
Lacey stood at the fridge studying the photos. Jack saw her gaze linger on one of Alex and him.
“Let’s find your room.”
She followed him down the hall. He pushed open the first door on the right and found a room painted blue.
Jack dropped the Macy’s shopping bag on the floor and sat heavily on the twin bed. He twisted his back. He’d been tense all day and finally felt like the knots were loosening in his spine. “Alex’s got an impressive security system and probably has a gun in every drawer. This place is like a fortress. He likes to be prepared for anything.”
“A regular Boy Scout.” Lacey sat at a small desk and tentatively peeked in the top drawer. “Looks like he missed a drawer.”
Jack was glad to hear her lighten up a little.
“It’s safe here. No one but Callahan knows where we are. Do you teach at the dental school tomorrow?”
Lacey shook her head. “But I have a case I need to finish sometime soon.”
“Case?”
“A John Doe at the morgue. I already charted and x-rayed the teeth, and the comparison dental records should arrive tomorrow. I need to evaluate them and finish my report.”
“How often do you do this?”
“A couple of times a month. There’re several specialists around that do the same thing for the ME’s office.”
“What’s it like?” Jack rested his forearms on his thighs and gave her his full attention. He studied her face, liking the way her soft hair framed her eyes. They’d bought some basic toiletries for their stay but she’d passed on the makeup counter, so her face was bare and natural. It suited her perfectly.
He took a slow breath. Today, wearing jeans, she appealed to him as much as she had last night in that black dress.
“I like it. I like being able to solve a puzzle. Bring closure to families.” Her lips pressed in a thin line and he knew she was thinking of Suzanne.
He stared at his hands. “Who do you think is doing this? Who’s killing these men and watching you?”
She was silent a long moment. “I don’t know. I’ve racked my brain and laid awake at night trying to find a missing piece to this puzzle. Who would want revenge for DeCosta?”
“You believe it’s revenge?”
“Don’t you? Why else is he punishing the people who put DeCosta away?”
“What if they got the wrong guy in the first place? DeCosta may have kidnapped Suzanne, but obviously someone else killed her. And I think someone else may have done all the other killings back then. These recent murders have been awfully similar to the ones long ago.”
“No they haven’t.” Lacey stood and started to pace the tiny room. He watched the jeans cling to her rear and had to force himself to focus. She was a walking distraction in faded denim and cute cowboy boots. “The legs are broken. That’s the only similarity. DeCosta preyed on women. Young women, athletes. He never attacked a man. He never used the type of torture we’re seeing now. The women found a decade ago had been sexually assaulted and cut.”
What? “What do you mean cut?”
She stopped and frowned at him. “You know. Where they slice the skin. Just for the pain and control over their victims. It wasn’t something put in the papers back then. The police had held back the fact for questioning the freaky suspects that came out of the woodwork and confessed. DeCosta knew all about it when they caught him.” She started to pace. “These men haven’t been cut,” she continued. “Callahan told me that they’ve been killed with their own stuff. Whatever the victim liked to do is what the killer chose to murder with. The first was a cop. So he used the handcuffs and Trenton’s own gun. Golf clubs, fishing poles on the other victims. This guy is creative. DeCosta just killed for the thrill.” She drew a deep breath and stopped pacing, turning to look Jack in the eye. “Right?” She’d put a voice to his theories. Their killer was someone different. But he had to be someone strongly related to the old case.
“Right. But don’t you think he has a connection to DeCosta? Why else is he doing this?”
“Maybe he’s just one of those freaks who obsess about serial killers. I’ve read about them. Some killers confess to idolizing other serial killers. Bundy, John Wayne Gacy. Richard Rodriguez. They have fans. Or maybe he had a partner. That happens. Maybe the partner was never caught and now has decided to pick it up again.”
“What about the girl in Mount Junction? Do you think she’s connected?” Jack struggled to think clearly. Heavy vibes of attraction were sizzling through the room. They were sucking the breathable air right out of the area. No wonder his lungs felt tight.
“I don’t know.” Lacey spoke slowly. “It was weird back then. We had to be careful. I’ve told you how the gymnasts were like celebrities in that town. Continual national championships will do that. The residents were fiercely proud of our school’s reputation for gymnastics. Our phone numbers had to be unlisted. People would stop us on the street just to say they recognized us. Professors liked to single us out in class. We were always in the spotlight.”
“But?” He was watching her face closely. Something had occurred to her.
“I wouldn’t call them stalkers, but sometimes the same guy would show up wherever we went. Several of the girls reported that men would follow them around campus. Not talking to them, just following. I had that happen a time or two. I’d see the same person too many times in different places. I could usually put an end to it by deliberately pointing at him while talking to a professor or campus security. They’d realized they’d been spotted and drop it.”
“That’d take care of it?” Jack was skeptical.
“Usually.” Her lips widened as a memory hit her. “Suzanne liked to take their pictures. She’d make sure the man had seen her snap one. He’d panic and take off.”
“You think she kept the pictures?” Jack’s mind jumped ahead. Could there be old photos of stalkers in a storage box somewhere?
Lacey shook her head, seeing what he was thinking. “No. We’d pin them up on the board in the coach’s office so everyone knew what they looked like. Eventually the pictures just got thrown out. Nothing ever came of it. No one was arrested or even questioned. They were just curious guys.”
“That had to be disturbing.” He hid his shock. If he ever had a daughter, she would live at home during college. With her bodyguard.
“Looking back it is. But back then we thought it was annoying and a little funny. No one ever dreamed something could happen to one of us. None of us ever thought Amy’s death was more than a simple accident.”
“Do you remember if she complained about someone following her?”
Lacey thought hard for a moment and shook her head. “I can’t remember. Amy was a few years ahead of me.”
“What would DeCosta have been doing in Mount Junction?” Jack thought aloud. “And why was Amy’s case disguised as an accident? Michael had said the other related deaths were cases where the body turned up months after the person went missing. That’s not what happened in Oregon. Everyone but Suzanne was dumped and found pretty quickly. Right?”
She swallowed hard and nodded.
“She was a good friend.” He spoke gently, seeing the pain cross her face.
“We were tight. We clicked the first time we met. You ever had that happen when you meet someone and you just know it’s right?”
She didn’t pause long enough for him to agree. That click had reverberated through his brain the first time he’d touched her.
“We did everything together. Studied, worked out. We were the same size and wore each other’s clothes and shoes. During the summers, we’d alternate back and forth between spending time at my parents’ and hers. We were like sisters.”
Jack hadn’t realized the friendship was that deep. He frowned.
“How did you handle her death?”
“Not good.”
The room grew quiet. She wouldn’t look at him and he waited.
Her voice was subdued when she finally continued. “I was diagnosed with depression afterward. It lasted for years. All I could think about was what could be happening to her. If it hadn’t been for Frank back then...I really leaned on him after Suzanne was gone. I’m not sure I would have made it without him.”
“What do you mean?” Jack wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer. But he had to know her demons. He wanted to know everything about her, good or bad.
“I saw psychiatrists off and on for years after Suzanne vanished. Sometimes the guilt was so bad...” She turned away and gazed at the purple curtains covering the window. She didn’t speak.
And he knew she’d considered suicide. Maybe even came close to doing it. Sometimes it was harder to forgive yourself for living than to face death. “I almost made you watch that disc again.” He thumped his forehead with the heel of his hand. God, he felt like a piece of shit. “I’m so fucking sorry. That must have been horrible for you.”
He would destroy his copy. He rubbed his face, feeling the harsh stubble he’d not had time to shave off that morning.
She didn’t answer him and sat back down at the desk, keeping her eyes averted as she studied the desktop computer. As he looked at Lacey, every possessive and protective hormone in Jack’s body battered at his gates. He clenched his fingers around the edge of the mattress.
Wrenching his gaze from her, he stood and checked the closed door in the bedroom for something to do. Something to break the tension that’d filled the air. It wasn’t a sexual tension, now. It was more of an intimacy. Where one person had bared his or her soul and now the other helped share the burden. It was more intimate than their one kiss and was affecting him deeper, confusing him. She’d just told him something horrid and he wanted to throw her on the little twin bed and comfort her with his mouth and hardening body.
The door in the bedroom led to the bath Alex had mentioned. A connecting door was on the other side of the bath. Alex’s bedroom? Turning around Jack crossed his arms, tucked his hands beneath his biceps. He wasn’t going to touch Lacey. He didn’t trust himself.
Her cell phone chirped and he breathed a deep sigh of relief at the interruption.
Thank God for her phone.
The air in the bedroom had grown heavy and dense with surging emotions. She didn’t know what Jack was thinking, but she’d been watching him from the corner of her eye. Since they’d stepped in the bedroom, she’d been disturbingly aware of his presence. It was overpowering in the small square footage. Even a lesbian would react to the raw testosterone that pumped into the air around him.
He’d pushed her to recall and relate a time in her life when her future had looked bleak. Nonexistent. She rarely thought back to those black times. It was too hard to clean out the muck that enveloped her soul afterward. That was what her fences were for. To keep the memories away and protect her from more pain. Jack Harper was tearing them down, board by board.
She felt exposed and raw.
Deep down she wanted his touch, craved for his touch, but it came with a steep price. She didn’t know if she could pay it. She wasn’t ready to let her guard down. That thick inner wall that protected her heart. Her heart had been crushed by Suzanne and then again by her mother’s death. Her breakup with Frank left deep scars on her heart’s walls. She didn’t know if they’d healed enough to stay strong against what was growing with Jack.
She dug her phone out of her bag, moving slowly against the heavy air in the room. It indicated she’d received a video message. No wonder it had only chirped instead of giving its usual ring. She tapped the screen and watched as the grainy video zoomed in on a man.
He was dead.
No one alive could stand the fishing lures poking through his eyes.
Her lungs wouldn’t expand.
“Lacey?”
Dizzy, she glanced up to see Jack stepping toward her. His hands and arms reached out as if to catch something. To catch her. She felt his arms close around her and she pressed her forehead against his hard chest, squeezing her eyes shut. The vision of the fishhooks persisted on the inside of her eyelids. Her shoulders shook. She was so cold.
But he was warm, and she collapsed into him, shivering against his heat.