Edge of Midnight

34



It seemed strange how some things became so quickly familiar, like the crunch of shells on the driveway outside. Mia lay in the bungalow’s single bedroom when the sound caused her head to lift from the pillow. Pushing back the sheets, she moved to the living room. Headlights at the property’s border were visible through a small gap in the closed curtains. She watched as the squad car that had been on duty pulled onto the road and drove away.

A few moments later Eric entered, his tie loose around his neck and his briefcase in hand. He locked the door behind him and reset the security system, canceling out its high-pitched beep.

“Did I wake you?” he asked, concerned. “It’s after midnight.”

“I wasn’t really sleeping.” Barefoot, she moved closer, wearing a camisole top and pajama shorts.

“We had a lot of calls come through the hotline after the press conference.” He placed his briefcase on the table. Head bent and brow furrowed, he opened it, shuffling through papers until he found whatever he was looking for. “None of them turned out.”

She wanted to say it was all right, but Mia knew it wasn’t. She was aware of what preoccupied his mind. With Karen Diambro dead, The Collector would be hunting again. Maybe even tonight.

“Are you hungry? Because the deputies had groceries delivered—”

“No,” he admitted. Clasping the back of his neck, he rubbed at the knotted muscles he found there.

“Eric, you need to get some rest.”

He shook his head. “I’m too wired right now.”

“Let me help you, all right?” Taking his hand, Mia led him to the couch. It still had sheets tucked neatly into its cushions, a pillow at one end. The bed he’d made to make it appear they weren’t sleeping together. Eric looked at her, his moss-green eyes inquisitive as she told him to sit. But he removed his holstered gun and did as instructed while she went into the kitchen. She returned with a beer.

“Thanks.” He took a sip from it, stretching out his long legs and putting his feet on the coffee table. Mia walked around behind him. Wordlessly, she began to massage his shoulders and the back of his neck. After several minutes of her ministrations, Mia felt him take a deep breath and release it. She continued her rhythmic pressure, squeezing, feeling the play of firm muscles under his skin.

“You’re good.” His voice was a low rumble in his chest.

“Then maybe I’ll have an alternative career when I’m let go from the paper.” She made the statement without rancor, however.

“I know you asked me not to call Miller—”

“I understand why you did it. I’m not upset.”

“Come here.” Eric turned and looked at her, his soft demand causing her stomach to flip. She released his shoulders and allowed him to slowly draw her down onto his lap. She laid her head on his shoulder.

“Sometimes I feel everything bearing down on me so hard I can’t breathe,” he confessed. “Knowing I was coming here to you tonight…it was the one good thing I kept holding on to all day.”

Mia’s lips brushed his collarbone through his dress shirt. “What if I’d been asleep?”

“Then I would’ve just watched you. It would be enough.”

She thought of the press conference and the pain that had been visible on his features as he spoke of his late wife. What he did was vital, she knew, and yet so draining to the soul. She wondered again how he kept his head above water and didn’t succumb to the strong undertow around him.

He finished his beer.

“I might be ready for bed, after all,” he mused huskily. “But I wasn’t thinking of sleeping just yet.”

Mia looked up at him. Eric’s lips lowered softly to hers. Her fingers grazed his hard jaw, the faint stubble there causing an erotic thrill to travel through her. As their mouths tasted one another, she undid his already loose tie with her fingers, sliding it from his collar.

“We could make love here.” He nibbled at her neck. “At least the couch would look used.”

“I prefer the bed.”

He gave a low grunt. “Me, too.”

They rose from the couch and Mia gazed into his handsome face. She noticed his expression had changed, his eyes more serious. He stroked his thumb over her cheek, appearing to struggle with voicing whatever was on his mind. “I don’t know what’s going to happen with us, Mia…but I want you to know I care about you, deeply.”

“I know,” she whispered.

“I’m going to get a shower, all right?”

She remained in place as he went into the bathroom. In the doorway he turned briefly to look at her, and Mia could see the well-defined lines of his body silhouetted against the hall light. His broad shoulders and hard chest, narrow waist and hips. Emotion mingled with the desire she felt. I don’t know what’s going to happen with us. It was an uncertainty they shared.

When he entered the bedroom a short time later, she was already nude and under the sheets. She noticed he had brought both his cell phone and service weapon with him. Although the security system was on, she was aware of the danger that existed outside their safe haven.

She raised herself onto one elbow as he removed his boxers and got into bed, turning to face her. He caressed the gentle curves of her body, cupping one small breast, the brush of his fingers instantly hardening her nipple. For a time they simply stared into one another’s eyes. Then Mia kissed his throat, his collarbone, her fingers threading through the sparse hair on his chest. The nightlight she’d found inside her suitcase, wrapped in one of her T-shirts, cast the bedroom in a soft, bluish glow. Even now, that one simple gesture from him tightened her throat with gratitude.

He readied himself for her, rolling on a condom, and she sighed at the welcome weight of his body over hers. His mouth captured her small gasp as he entered her, his hands tangling in her hair. She blinked hazily up at him as he began to move inside her. Their bodies were still so new to one another. Mia reveled in the way he filled her, in the way his languid strokes brought her to a fever pitch, until she was breathless and whispering pleas against his ear.

She loved his own ragged gasp as he came inside her.

A short time later, she skimmed her fingers through his hair as he slept. She’d become his refuge, she realized, from the lethal shadows he chased.

Mia said a fervent prayer to keep him safe.

It was early morning, the sky still gray outside.

She was already showered and dressed, awaiting the arrival of her deputy escort. Wandering the small living area, a cup of coffee clasped between her palms, Mia could hear the water running behind the closed door of the bathroom.

Eric’s briefcase sat open on the table. She slowed next to it, unable to not look. A series of black-and-white photographs peeked out at her from beneath his paperwork. Despite the sense of foreboding that fell over her, she placed her cup on the table and picked them up, feeling her stomach clench at nearly the same time.

She barely recognized Karen Diambro.

In the crime scene images, her nearly nude corpse lay on black asphalt, swaddled in plastic sheeting. Enough of it had been pulled away to reveal the full extent of desecration, however. Mia swallowed past the lump in her throat. Her mind flashed to the same type of sheets that had been strung up inside the cinder-block room where she herself had been held captive only a few weeks ago.

The body was battered. Bruised. Odd burn marks marred the torso, as did the numeral carved into the skin. One hand was splayed over her breasts, its fingers bearing five gruesome holes. Even with Walt’s warning, the sight shook her. She’d heard the police terminology for it before: overkill. The brutality inflicted caused tears of anger and empathy to burn behind her eyes, the images far more personal to her than any she had seen before on the job. She flipped slowly through the rest of the photos. Karen Diambro had been petite, with dark hair and brown eyes like hers.

I was the lucky one. I escaped.

Anna Lynn Gomez and Karen Diambro were substitutes for me.

The images brought the harsh reality home.

She couldn’t let this psychopath continue—she had to do whatever she could to help, didn’t she? The water stopped in the bathroom. Mia buried the photos back underneath the papers.

“Everything all right?” Eric asked a short time later. He’d emerged from the bedroom, wearing suit pants and a blue dress shirt. He struggled with his tie. Mia walked over to help him. As she pulled the silk through and tightened the knot for him, she took care that he didn’t notice the faint tremor in her hands.

“Everything’s fine,” she said.

“You look upset.”

“I look like I haven’t finished my morning coffee.” Forcing a smile, she allowed her fingers to glide over the smooth silk that lay against his chest, her job completed. “There. All done.”

“Will’s coming to have lunch with you today?”

“He’s bringing it in. We’re eating in the employee break room, like you suggested. And by suggested, I mean ordered.”

Eric sighed. “I know it’s not the private meeting you had in mind, but it’s safer. And I’m already tying up enough resources watching you. We’ve got every available man across the local Bureau and JSO hunting this bastard down.”

She nodded her understanding. Bending his head, he brushed his lips over hers. Mia felt a wave of guilt, knowing how strongly he’d be against it. But her emotions had pushed her to a decision.

No matter the consequences, it was something she had to do.