by Rita Herron
She studied him for a moment, anguish in her eyes. No doubt she was reliving the night of the abduction. Simpleton had stalked her for weeks. Learned her routine. Gone through her garbage. Even known her time of the month.
He’d cleverly watched her leave her aerobics class and snatched her when she’d reached her car. She had no idea what had happened until she’d regained consciousness in that cell of a room where he’d kept her.
Micah followed her to her car, a red Toyota, not surprised that she’d changed vehicles. Blood from where she’d scratched at Simpleton during the attack had been found on the driver’s side of her Honda Civic.
And then there had been her blood.
She climbed in, and he got in his SUV and followed her as she maneuvered the small town and turned into a gated townhome complex that looked modern and impersonal, not the kind of place where he pictured Lenora. She paused at the gate to input a security code, making him feel marginally better about the location and the fact that at least she lived in a secure neighborhood.
She parked in an assigned spot in front of a two-story stucco unit then slid from the driver’s seat.
“Do you like it here?” he asked as she slipped into his SUV.
She shrugged. “I wanted some place with people around. The floor plan offers space, but the second-floor terrace is where I spend a lot of time.”
He nodded, remembering her statement after the attack about not being able to breathe. That she wanted open spaces, not to feel confined. Somehow, he pictured her on a ranch, his ranch, with acres of land to roam, plush pastures, ponds, and creeks.
“You have a view?”
“From the terrace, you can see the town and the canyon. At night it’s beautiful.”
So was she.
But he bit his tongue, wondering what in the hell was wrong with him. He’d never been attracted to a witness or victim before.
Why couldn’t he get her out of his mind?
Lenora texted Jenny that she had to talk to her and that she was on her way. Jenny promised to wait.
Lenora gave Micah directions, grateful he didn’t push her for conversation. She was struggling to keep her emotions at bay and silently willing herself not to fall apart. Micah would protect her. Police were looking for Robert Simpleton. They would find him.
Shuddering at the memory of that knife at her throat while he forced himself on her, she blinked to stem the tears. Micah reached across the console and laid his hand over hers. A gentle squeeze. A tender touch.
It was almost enough to make her come undone.
After the attack, she’d handled the press, the questions, even the brutal way Simpleton’s attorney had questioned her. Had she seduced Simpleton? Had they met before? Maybe she’d come on to him and given him the wrong idea.
She’d even tolerated the curious stares and horrified looks of those who’d heard her story.
But the simple kind touches nearly brought her to her knees.
She spotted Jenny’s bungalow at the dead end of the street and pointed it out to Micah. “There. That’s Jenny’s with the bird sanctuary.”
Micah steered the SUV into the drive and cut the engine, then climbed out and started around to her side. Lenora opened the door, deciding she couldn’t lean on him too much.
That might get to be a habit. Then what would she do when he left?
She needed her independence. She’d worked too hard to regain it to relinquish it now.
A muscle ticked in his jaw as they walked up to the front door. Jenny had planted a flower garden to the right, the flowers dancing in the evening breeze, orange and yellow against the green grass. The sun had set, the rainbow of colors majestic on the horizon, reminding her how beautiful Texas was.
Yet there was nothing beautiful about what she’d come to do. She would be exposing her worst pain, her biggest humiliation. Bringing her new friend into the dark world, she’d barely survived.
Damn Robert Simpleton. She hated him more than she’d ever thought possible to hate another living soul.
Micah knocked, and a second later Jenny answered, a handsome blond guy beside her dressed in jeans, a dressy western shirt, and boots. Lenora had met him once; his name was Troy Benson. Jenny was totally in love, and Lenora could see the adoration on Troy’s face as he threw an arm around Jenny.
But a worried look pulled at Jenny’s heart-shaped face as she glanced at Micah. “Come on in, Lenora. What’s going on?”
Lenora gestured toward Micah. “This is Sgt. Micah Hardin with the Texas Rangers.”
Jenny introduced her boyfriend then led them to the den. Light colors and lots of throw pillows and rugs gave it a classy but comfortable feel.
Lenora folded her hands in her lap, twisting her fingers. “There’s something I have to tell you.” She exhaled a deep breath. “Something I should have told you a long time ago.”
Jenny’s eyes clouded over. “He escaped, didn’t he?”
Lenora swallowed hard. “What?”
“The man who kidnapped you and . . . hurt you,” Jenny said softly. “I saw the news. He escaped from prison.”
Lenora was too stunned to speak for a moment. “You knew? How? When?” Lenora gulped. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
Jenny’s expression softened. “I figured you’d tell me when you were ready.”
Jenny opened her arms and wrapped them around Lenora. Lenora choked on a sob, desperately trying to hold herself together. Footsteps shuffled, and she realized Micah and Troy had discreetly left the room to give them some privacy.
“I’m sorry, Jenny,” Lenora said, swiping at her tears. “It’s just been so . . . hard.”
“I hope they kill the maniac,” Jenny said, her voice fierce.
Lenora laughed through her tears. “Me, too.” She pulled away and clenched Jenny’s hands. Maybe while she’d been hiding out here, trying not to get close to anyone, trying to shield herself, she’d actually found a new best friend.
“So, you think this creep is coming after Lenora?” Troy asked.
Micah nodded. “Oh, yeah. He wants revenge.”
Troy raked a hand through his thick hair, sending the ends standing up. “So why did Lenora come to see Jenny? Is Lenora going to disappear until he’s caught?”
“If I have anything to do with it, yes,” Micah said, knowing Lenora would probably balk. “But Simpleton might use anyone Lenora cares about to trap her.”
Troy’s blue eyes narrowed to angry slits. “You mean he might try to kidnap Jenny?”
“That’s exactly what I mean,” Micah said.
Troy leaned against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed. “He’ll have to kill me first.”
If the situation hadn’t been so grave, and if he didn’t know how sadistic Simpleton was, Micah would have almost smiled at Troy’s protective stance. “My advice would be to take Jenny somewhere safe.”
“What about the business?” Troy asked. “Jenny and Lenora will never leave their clients in a bind.”
Micah sighed. He was afraid that would be a problem. “Is there anyone who can cover the shop for a few days?”
Troy shrugged. “They have a lady named Wilma who answers the phones and mans the business when they go out on consults. I think she’s been on vacation the last couple of weeks, but she just got back.”
“I’ll talk to Lenora,” Micah said. “Maybe they can leave her in charge. I can always put a guard at the shop in case Simpleton shows up there.”
“We can’t do that.” Lenora’s voice cut into the room, and Micah glanced up and saw her and Jenny standing side by side as if they’d already planned their strategy.
Micah had a bad feeling he wasn’t going to like it.
Lenora had to stand her ground. “I know what you’re going to suggest, but he wants me, Micah. If I hide, he’ll only hurt others u
ntil he can have me.”
“He may do that anyway,” Micah said. “So you’re sure as hell not going to offer yourself as bait.”
“I’m not talking about that,” Lenora said. “But we have a big wedding in a couple of weeks. I can’t just leave my client in a bind.” Because when this was over, her business might be the only thing she had left.
His jaw tightened, his features rigid with anger. And something else she couldn’t quite define.
“I want you out of here,” Troy said to Jenny.
“Troy—”
“I read about the things he did to those women,” Troy said, his tone harsh. Then, as if he realized Lenora had been one of those women, he gave her a contrite look. “I’m sorry, Lenora. I just don’t want Jenny hurt.”
“Neither do I,” Lenora said, battling a wave of emotions crowding her chest. Sucking in a breath of courage, she turned to her friend. “Jenny, please leave town with Troy. We’ll stay in touch, and I’ll call you as soon as they find Simpleton.”
Jenny shook her head. “I want to be here and help you, Lenora.”
Lenora gripped her friend’s hands. “You will help me by easing my mind. Please, Jenny. I know what this man is capable of.” She swallowed revulsion at the memories tearing at her mind. “I couldn’t live with myself if he hurt you.”
Troy wrapped a possessive arm around Jenny’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. No one is going to hurt my sweetheart.”
“But—”
“No argument.” Troy’s eyes heated with the kind of love and lust that Lenora had read about only in books. “I’ve been wanting a little time away with you. Now’s we can have it.”
Jenny looked reluctant, but Troy kissed her, and she finally agreed.
Lenora’s heart pounded with relief. At least if Jenny stayed with Troy, she’d be safe.
Micah was grateful he and Troy had won that battle, and the women decided to let Wilma handle the shop, but he was still worried about Lenora. He wanted to whisk her away and make sure Simpleton couldn’t find her.
He wanted to hold her and kiss her.
Idiot. He absolutely could not do the latter.
Why was she getting to him so badly? He’d been assigned to protect other women before; witnesses to crimes, women in danger from stalkers. But none of them had wormed their way into his head, and his heart, like she had.
“Where does the woman who helped Simpleton live?” Lenora asked as he shifted into gear and pulled away from Jenny’s house.
“An apartment in Austin.”
“Did she know Simpleton before he was incarcerated?”
“No. She met him in prison when she was visiting her brother.” Hell, maybe they’d luck up and find Simpleton with her. Then he could lock his sorry ass back up where it belonged.
Or kill him if Simpleton resisted.
He hoped the bastard resisted.
After all, Simpleton had escaped once. He could escape again. The only way Lenora would be truly safe was if the monster was dead.
“Apparently she was a hairdresser. She worked at the beauty shop down the street for a couple of weeks.”
Lenora gasped. “She was stalking me so she could report to Simpleton?”
“It appears that way.”
Lenora lapsed into silence as he drove, the tension between them palpable. The city lights of Austin gleamed ahead, and Micah could almost hear the country music blaring from the bars.
His GPS indicated for him to turn on to a side street before they reached the city limits. The dry Texas land had taken a hit with drought, the heat and lack of rain causing the cedar trees to die, making the land look barren in the moonlight.
The apartment complex looked old and dated, the scraggly bushes in front in desperate need of manicuring, the stucco dirty and fading. Another car pulled in, its lights flashing bright against the cement.
Unlike Lenora’s upscale complex, this one had no security gate.
Lenora shuddered. “I don’t understand women who fall for prisoners, especially a cruel man like Simpleton.”
“Psychopaths can be quite charming when they want,” Micah said wryly.
He noted the building numbers, then spotted 3A, Cissy’s apartment, and parked in front beside a dirty white sedan. The streetlight was broken, making the parking lot look shadowy, almost eerie with the empty spaces.
When he cut the engine, he turned to Lenora.
“Do you want to wait here?”
She shook her head no. “If he’s here, I want to watch you arrest him. And if he’s not, I need to talk to this woman.”
Not that it would do any good, Micah thought. He’d heard stories about women who fell for inmates. They thought they could save them or some bullshit like that.
But he was determined to make this as easy on Lenora as possible. If confronting Simpleton or his accomplice would help her in any way, he’d do it.
He squeezed her hand. “Just stay behind me and take my lead. Simpleton might be armed.”
She nodded, opened her car door and slid out. He did the same, one hand stroking the gun at his hip as they neared the door. Weeds choked the few feet of grass; the front stoop was streaked with stains. The door looked like pressed wood and was starting to rot.
He knocked on the door, stepping forward so that Lenora stood behind him. They waited several seconds, but no one answered. He knocked again, then leaned his ear against the door, listening for sounds someone was inside.
“She’s not here,” Lenora said. Disappointment tinged her voice.
He held up a finger to quiet her, then turned the doorknob. The door screeched open. Micah pulled his gun and aimed it at the ready as he slowly inched inside.
“Texas Ranger, Miss Cornwell. If you’re in here, please answer.”
His voice echoed back as if the place was empty. Ratty, outdated furniture was cluttered with laundry, beauty magazines, and fast food wrappers.
“Miss Cornwell?”
He felt Lenora close on his heels and pressed a hand to hers to urge her to stay behind him as he inched deeper inside the room. A faint beam of moonlight glimmered through the sheer, worn curtains giving him enough light to see a room to the right.
He slowly approached it and peered inside. An unmade bed, the sheets tousled. A chair holding a pile of women’s clothes. Makeup bottles and brushes scattered across an ancient dresser.
The hair on the back of his neck prickled as an acrid odor hit him. Blood . . . death.
“Wait,” he whispered to Lenora.
He moved forward, hand gripping his gun, then pushed open the bathroom door. His stomach knotted at the sight in front of him.
Cissy Cornwell was lying on the bathroom floor, her eyes gaping in the shock of death, blood soaking her neck and chest.
Lenora gasped, a deep trembling starting inside her that made her cold all over. Cissy Cornwell lay in a pool of her own blood, her lips parted, one bloody hand reaching out as if to plead for her lover to save her.
Simpleton had probably enjoyed watching her beg for her life, seeing the shock on her face, the realization that she’d risked everything to help him. Yet in the end, he’d made her suffer just as he had his other victims.
“Son of a bitch,” Micah muttered.
“He used her, then killed her,” she said, her voice thick.
“Yeah, and now she can’t tell us anything.” Micah knelt to examine her body, although it was obvious she was dead. She’d lost a lot of blood, her complexion was pasty, her eyes glazed.
“Body’s just starting to go into rigor,” Micah said. “That means Simpleton can’t be too far away.”
Lenora glanced around the bathroom in search of signs of Simpleton. Women’s toiletries. Cheap perfume. Fake eyelashes. Peroxide for her hair.
Or was it for Simpleton’s? He could have dyed
it white.
Another scan of the small bathroom and she noticed wrappers from a kit, mustache and sideburns. He’d obviously donned a disguise.
What did he look like now?
Micah pulled his phone from his pocket and made a call. “Yes, Lieutenant, this is Hardin. I’m at Cissy Cornwell’s apartment. She’s dead.” A hesitation. “Yes, it was him. He slashed her throat.”
Although he’d stabbed his other victims in the heart. Why hadn’t he done so with Cissy?
Lenora’s eyes were drawn to the bloody X on the woman’s chest, and she started to shake uncontrollably. The bloody X was just like the one he’d carved on all his victims, including her.
After the crime scene photographs had been taken at the hole where she’d been kept and then again at the hospital, the nurse had washed away the bloody X. Except Simpleton had carved it deep enough to leave a scar. A plastic surgeon had taken care of it soon afterward.
But in her mind, it would always be there.
A permanent reminder of what he’d done to her.
In the early stages after her release, when she’d suffered severe panic attacks and nightmares, she’d wake up screaming that she had to get rid of that damned X. She’d scrubbed her skin raw trying to erase it. The doctor assured her it wasn’t visible.
But she saw it every time she looked in the mirror.
“Send a crime unit,” Micah said. “And see if you can find out what kind of car she drove. Maybe Simpleton’s in it now.”
Lenora’s heart raced. Could it be that simple? They’d locate the make and model, issue an APB and the police would catch him.
A shiver tore through her. No. Robert Simpleton was a cunning planner. He hadn’t escaped on a whim. He’d carefully orchestrated his escape just as he had his abductions.
Which meant he probably already had a list of his next victims. She was top on that list. But who else would he take?
A random woman or someone connected to her?
Micah wished to hell that Lenora wasn’t with him. He hated that she’d seen Cissy’s dead body and knew that the bloody X on the woman’s chest triggered painful memories.