A Profiler's Case for Seduction

chapter 11



“Troy Young is innocent and you are in danger, Mark”





Mark stood in front of his team and read the note that had been left under his windshield wiper, now in a clear plastic evidence bag.

“Crap,” Donald muttered to everyone and nobody. “Where was your car parked when you found the note?” he asked.

Mark felt the warmth that crept into his cheeks. “I was parked in front of Dora’s house. Apparently the note was left at some point during the night.”

“Attaboy,” Lori said with a grin.

Mark ignored her as the flames in his cheeks grew hotter. “I found it when I left this morning, tucked under my windshield wiper, but I have no idea exactly when it was left or who put it there.”

“Troy Young remains in jail pending charges right now, but I have a feeling before the day is done he’s going to be kicked loose. The D.A. isn’t comfortable with what evidence there is against him and he’s already been held as long as possible. Even so, he remains our main person of interest,” Richard said.

He looked at Mark and continued, “The fact that whoever wrote the note believes that Troy is innocent is less concerning to me than the statement that you’re in danger.”

Mark nodded. “I’ve been thinking about that and I’m wondering if the stalker that Dora has is really my very own personal stalker.”

“Just what we need, a new mystery,” Larry said with a groan.

“I haven’t hidden the fact that I’ve been spending my downtime with her,” Mark said, ignoring Larry’s pained expression. “So, I now think it’s possible that if I take this note at face value, then somebody is after me, not Dora.”

Mark wasn’t a coward, but he also wasn’t a foolish man. He took the threat to himself very seriously, especially considering the fact that the author who had penned the note had given no indication where the danger might come from or who might want him hurt or dead. Still, there was a certain amount of relief in the realization that the danger was pointed at him and not at Dora.

“But if that’s the case, then why didn’t the stalker just shoot you when he was by Dora’s house?” Donald asked, his brow wrinkled into a thoughtful frown. “Why wait until you gave chase?”

“Maybe he didn’t want to take a chance at shooting Dora. If I was the primary target, then it makes sense that he wouldn’t have fired his gun then, but would rather wait until the two of us were in the middle of the campus and he had a clean shot at me,” Mark replied.

“I don’t like anyone threatening my men,” Richard said, his voice deeper and with a touch of anger. “We’ll see if we can pull prints from the note. I want the writer of that note found. Whoever it is seems to have information we don’t have.”

“Maybe it’s just another student prank,” Joseph suggested.

“Those weren’t prank bullets that were fired at me the other night,” Mark replied tersely. “And I still haven’t bought into the theory that Melinda Grayson’s kidnapping was some stupid student prank.”

For the next hour the team threw around theories, talked about what little information they’d managed to glean. The frustration in the air was a living, breathing entity that displayed itself in how quickly the doughnuts disappeared from their boxes. Nothing like a sugar rush to attempt to stanch short tempers and the dissatisfaction with how things were proceeding, Mark thought.

The meeting dragged on and on, with the final decision for everyone to look at the case as if it had just been handed to them. Joseph was assigned to redo background searches on everyone involved with both the kidnapping and the murders, Larry was to reinterview everyone who had already been talked to initially when the cases broke.

Lori was to reexamine what little evidence they had and find a chink in anyone’s alibi that had been provided for the time of the crimes.

Richard would coordinate and Mark was left to do what he did best, put together the facts that the team brought to Richard and him and get them a profile that would eventually lead back to Troy Young or to another suspect or person of interest.

It was almost noon when the team went their separate ways, discouraged that they were at a place where they had to doubt and reexamine every move of their own earlier investigation. But Mark knew as well as the others that the smallest overlooked detail often broke a case wide-open.

As he left the courthouse, he realized he needed to find Dora and let her know that it was quite possible she wasn’t being stalked, that it was Mark somebody might be watching and waiting to harm.

Not only would he get to see her again, he’d be able to bring her a small measure of comfort in this new information that took a target off her back.

With only a week and two days to the annual bonfire and homecoming festivities, Mark noted that more red-and-gold banners and signs seemed to have appeared overnight on campus. Go Gladiators signs hung out dorm windows and fluttered from fraternity and sorority house porches.

When in college Mark hadn’t participated in the extracurricular activities. He was too busy being tested and taught to achieve his full potential. When he wasn’t in the classroom he was in the library, soaking up what he could learn about serial killers and their patterns, their thoughts and actions.

By that time he’d known there was a place for him with the FBI and he knew this job was his calling, his reason for being. But Dora had reminded him that there were also other things important to him...like being the man his daughter needed in her life...things like love.

Despite the tense meeting he’d just endured, he was aware of the jaunt in his steps as he walked across the campus to the place where he knew he was most likely to meet Dora coming or going from a class.

He sank down on the bench where he’d sat the first day he’d met her to wait to give her back her pen. His thoughts immediately went to the note on his car.

Who had left it? If they took the note at face value then it was obvious the person who had written it had information to exonerate Troy Young and knew of a specific threat to Mark. The writer had warned Mark, but hadn’t given enough details to allow him to know what was going on.

Why would anyone come after him? There was a whole team of FBI agents working this case, so why single out Mark? His thoughts whirled around in his brain.

Because he’d never believed the theory of the crime that the others believed, a small voice whispered inside his head. Because he’d always maintained and been vocal about the fact that he believed Melinda’s kidnapping was staged and she had something to do with the murders.

Could that be the reason Mark had been targeted? Because somebody in the Melinda camp wanted him silenced? Were the nightmares he’d had starring Melinda his imagination mirroring what was really reality?

He didn’t know how in-depth the background search had been on her considering that most of the team considered her a victim, not a suspect. He wanted to know everything about the beautiful professor, from the day she was born until she’d arrived here at Darby College. Even though his teammates didn’t believe it, she was the key to everything. All he had to do was somehow prove it.

All thoughts of Melinda bounced out of his head as he spied Dora coming out of a nearby building. Clad in a pair of brown slacks and a rust-colored lightweight sweater, she looked stunning amid the fall colors. Her hair glinted in the sunshine and for a moment he remained seated on the bench, just watching her as she walked, obviously not seeing him.

She appeared deep in thought, her laptop case against her chest and her purse slung across her shoulder. He stood and their gazes met. She appeared to hesitate a moment and then her beautiful smile stretched across her lips. But in her momentary hesitation, Mark smelled morning-after regrets that hadn’t been there when he’d left her house earlier that morning.

“I didn’t expect to see you hanging around here today,” she said as she approached where he stood.

“I wanted to find you to tell you that there’s been a new development that suggests the stalker isn’t after you, but rather is after me.”

Her eyes widened as she gazed up at him. “Really?”

He nodded, when he’d rather pull her into his arms. But the laptop remained against her chest in a defense position and she was standing a couple of inches away. “I don’t think you’re in any danger, Dora. I think whoever was watching you was actually looking for me and knew we’d probably be hanging out together.”

“Well, that’s a relief for me, but what about you?” Her concern for him was evident in the deepening of her voice.

He gave her what he considered his most self-assured smile. “I’m a big, bad FBI agent. I can take care of myself.” His smile fell away as he eyed her intently. “You aren’t entertaining any day-after regrets, are you?”

She stepped closer to him, as if afraid that one of the passing students might hear their conversation. “Yes and no,” she confessed. She released a sigh. “I didn’t expect you, Mark. I’d made decisions about my life and one of those decisions was no men, no relationships. I just didn’t expect you to sneak into my bed.”

He gave her a crooked smile of amusement. “As I remember it, I didn’t exactly sneak. I was willingly dragged up those stairs by you.”

She nodded in acknowledgment. “I know. What I don’t know is what to do with you now. We have no future, Mark. I don’t want a future with you or any man.”

Her gaze didn’t quite meet his, making him wonder about the truth of her words. “What are you afraid of, Dora?” he asked softly.

“Nothing.” She raised her gaze to meet his, a hard defensiveness in her eyes he’d never seen before. “I’m not afraid of anything. I just know what I want, what I’m willing to give to somebody else, and I’d never be able to give what it takes to make a successful relationship. I know my limitations, Mark.”

“But, I don’t think you’re aware of your strengths,” he replied.

Again she looked at him in surprise and then released a deep sigh. “I don’t want to be hurt, Mark, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

A beat of panic boomed in his chest. Was she somehow calling a halt to everything? Would he not have the opportunity to spend more time with her, to make her realize that somehow, someway, they could make a relationship work between them?

“Let’s just enjoy our time together while you’re here in town,” she continued, making the boom of his heart quiet. “I’m offering you coffee and conversation—nothing more.” Her cheeks bloomed with splendid color. “Last night was wonderful, Mark, but we can’t have a repeat. It just wouldn’t be right.”

“I’ll play by your rules for the time I’m here,” he said, although it was difficult to capitulate to her wishes in this area. “I just want to spend my downtime with you, to enjoy your presence, and we still have a bonfire date for next Friday night,” he reminded her.

She smiled then, a full, warm smile that gave him renewed hope that eventually she’d understand that he was in this for the long run and that she could trust him with her heart, with her future.

“I’ve got to get to my next class,” she said with a glance at her delicate gold wristwatch.

“Go,” he replied. “I just wanted to let you know that I don’t believe you’re in any danger.”

She started to leave and then turned back to him, her eyes shimmering with the emotion she refused to allow into her heart. “Watch your back, Agent Flynn.”

“Always,” he replied.

There was no question that Mark had been on her mind since the moment Dora had crawled out of bed and stood beneath a warm shower spray that morning. Her body had tingled and sung with the memory of his touch. The most difficult thing she’d had to do was tell him that she didn’t want him in her bed again even though it was a lie.

Having Mark in her life for a finite period of time was safe, but inviting him in forever would be a disaster. Secrets and lies, that was the sum of this new life Dora had built, and she wasn’t about to take a chance on destroying it.

If she were smart, she would tell him that she didn’t want to see him again. She’d tell him that there was really no reason for them to have coffee or any further conversation, except she didn’t want to deprive herself of him completely.

She knew it was selfish of her, sensed that Mark was developing real feelings for her that went beyond friendship. She felt the same thing toward him, but loving any man for any length of time was impossible for her.

As she hurried toward her next class she once again told herself she was being a bit self-indulgent, flirting with a bit of emotional danger, but couldn’t bring herself to cut it off cleanly with him. At least she was grateful to learn that the stalker wasn’t after her, although she was concerned that somebody was apparently after Mark.

He was trained for danger and she hoped he’d utilize all of his skills, all of that training to keep himself safe. She couldn’t imagine anyone who would want to hurt Mark unless it was the same person who had killed all three men, unless somebody thought he was getting too close to them.

She figured they’d pretty well solved the murders by holding Troy Young for the crimes. So, if it wasn’t Troy threatening Mark, then who?

Questions continued to haunt her through the day and into the evening as she began her shift at the bookstore. It was another quiet night, with few customers coming in. Dora used the quiet time to study and refused to indulge in thoughts of anything else except the class work in front of her.

It was only at eight that she finally closed her laptop and sat back in the chair behind the register and allowed her thoughts free rein.

There had been so much ugliness when the personal details about the victims had come to light. Dora had shied away from hearing all the sordid details. She’d had enough ugly in her life to last forever and the last thing she wanted to do was ruminate over the ugly in her past.

The fear of tainting Melinda had kept her mute about the two women’s personal relationship, and the shame of who Dora had been kept her from ever wanting to share that time in her life with anyone.

That was why there could never be anything lasting between her and Mark. That’s why she could enjoy his company while he was in Vengeance but had no intention of pursuing a relationship of any kind once he left town.

She would always have to be on her guard, afraid to share too much. She’d seen revulsion in the eyes of a man she loved once before and it had driven her to the edge of ruin.

She’d truly believed Jimmy Martin would be her salvation, her defense and protector in the town without pity that had spawned her. But ultimately the damage he’d done to her had been devastating.

For the past three years her single goal had been to learn to find the happiness within, to not need anyone else to fulfill her. It had been an empowering lesson to realize she didn’t need anyone but herself to navigate in the world. If she chose to allow somebody to walk with her, then it was a choice, not a need.

She would never need a man again.

Still, at eight-thirty when Mark walked through the bookstore door, she couldn’t help the jump of her heart, the giddy happiness that accompanied the accelerated heartbeat.

“Hi,” she greeted him.

“Hi, yourself,” he replied with the easy grin that fired warmth through her entire being. “Good day?”

“Yes, it’s been a good day,” she replied as she locked up the cash register and prepared to leave for the night. “What about you?”

He raked a hand through his messy dark hair. “Another day of frustrations, but I don’t want to talk about work.”

“You look tired,” she said as they stepped out of the store and into the night air.

“I am tired,” he confessed. “The whole team is tired. They cut Troy Young loose today because of a lack of evidence. Everyone on the team believes he’s guilty and are scrambling to find the kind of evidence that would make the D.A. bite on a murder charge. In the meantime we’re reinvestigating everything about the cases, starting at the beginning to see what we might have missed. We’re also checking out any friends Troy might have that could have left the note on my car.”

“Sounds daunting,” she replied.

“And discouraging,” he returned.

They walked silently for a while, but Dora knew Mark hadn’t disappeared into his own thoughts. She felt his energy, and noted that his jacket was open, providing easy access to his gun. His eyes never stopped moving, checking first one side of the sidewalk and then the other, both ahead of them and behind.

The stalker was a third person on the sidewalk with them and Dora’s muscles tensed. At any moment she expected somebody to jump out of the bushes or appear from behind a tree.

She didn’t relax until they were inside her house and Mark had slumped into the sofa. She sank down next to him, deciding she wasn’t even going to offer him coffee. It was obvious he was exhausted and needed to go to his motel room and get a good night’s sleep.

Although she’d love to sit and talk to him, to drink in his very presence, she also wanted him at the top of his game so that nobody was able to sneak up on him and hurt him because he was too physically exhausted to be careful.

“You need to go,” she said firmly. “You need to go and get some sleep. You look like you haven’t slept for weeks.”

“I slept fine last night,” he said with a sly smile. The smile slowly fell from his lips. “Until the nightmares started.”

“Nightmares?” Dora looked at him with concern.

He waved a hand as if to dismiss the subject. “It’s no big deal. I always have nightmares when I’m working a case.”

She frowned, not sure she believed him. “Mark.” She placed a hand on his forearm. “Go home to the motel and go to bed. As much as I’d like you to spend some time with me, I’d rather you get some much-needed sleep.”

He took her hand in his and squeezed it, the gesture coupled with the warmth in his eyes speaking words she didn’t want him to say aloud. “You’re right. I need some sleep. I don’t think I’d be very good company tonight anyway.” He released her hand and stood.

She got up to walk him to the door, wondering when she’d come to care enough about him to worry about his sleep habits, any nightmares he’d suffered or anything else.

She was going to get hurt. As he kissed her on the forehead and then stepped outside and back into the night, she realized that no matter how much she prepared herself, no matter how often she told herself she had it all under control, when Mark Flynn left Vengeance, her heart was going to break in half.

* * *

Amanda watched Mark leave Dora’s house from her hiding place in the bushes across the street. She remained there as she watched a second figure dash from one tree to another, shadowing Mark as he made his way down the sidewalk to where his car was parked.

Ben.

She knew it was Ben shadowing Mark at Melinda’s behest. But why? She didn’t want to believe what her head had been telling her ever since she’d found the small note card on Melinda’s desk that had Mark written on it. The only Mark Amanda knew was the FBI agent and the minute she’d seen the note she’d felt that he was in danger.

Now she had proof that Ben and Melinda were up to something. Otherwise, why would Ben be out here in the dark, watching and following the tall agent?

Amanda had put the note beneath Mark’s windshield the night before after she’d found the card on Melinda’s desk. That had been as far as she’d been willing to go in an effort to stop whatever might be happening.

The truth was, in the past twenty-four hours, since she’d found that little note card on Melinda’s desk, Amanda had been afraid, afraid of her boss and afraid of Ben.

She feared what might happen to her if Melinda or Ben knew that she had suspicions about them. She’d begun to think that Melinda’s kidnapping hadn’t been real, that somehow she and Ben had plotted the whole thing.

Thinking back, during Melinda’s captivity Amanda remembered now that Ben would disappear from campus for long periods of time. Amanda couldn’t find him at his apartment; nor was he in any of his usual haunts. Had he been with Melinda? Pretending to be a kidnapper?

What she couldn’t figure out was why, but when she thought of the murders that had taken place during that time a true terror she’d never felt before seared through her.

She now breathed a sigh of relief as she saw Mark climb into his car and drive off. The dark figure that she knew was Ben disappeared into the night, either heading back to his place or to Melinda’s.

Amanda remained in the bushes for a long time, nibbling a nail as horrible thoughts went around and around in her head. She didn’t know who to trust, who to tell her crazy suspicions.

She stared back at Dora’s house. She liked Dora a lot and she knew Dora and the handsome FBI agent had something going on between them. But how could she tell Dora her suspicions when she knew what few other people knew about Dora’s relationship to Melinda?

She’d found out that Dora was Melinda’s sister just before Melinda had gone missing. Melinda had accidently slipped up and mentioned the fact at one of their late-night work sessions. As far as Amanda was concerned she and Ben were the only people on campus who knew that the two women were related.

So, talking to Dora was out of the question. Talking to anyone felt like a dangerous risk. Tears blurred her vision. She was twenty-eight years old and yet at this moment she felt like a frightened child left all alone in the dark.

She shivered in the cool night air and fought against the horrifying belief that something very bad was about to happen.