Exposing a Killer

by Laurie Alice Eakes

  “Better the two of you together than trying to get through life alone.” He coughed. “I mean danger alone.”

  Megan opened her mouth to deny the truth of his words, then shut it again. Her truth was she was glad she wasn’t going through this alone. She had gone alone through too much in her life.

  “So what do we do now?” Megan asked, because Gary’s advice was the best she knew.

  “Lie low and let the cops handle things from now on.”

  “And where do I lie low?”

  “Go home.”

  “But my apartment—”

  “I don’t mean to Edgewater. I mean go home to North Point, to your family.”

  Megan shot to her feet, spinning to face him. “No way.”

  “Because they’ll say ‘I told you so’?” Gary’s dark eyes were sharp on hers.

  Megan swallowed, nailed.

  “I don’t want to endanger them, either.” Legitimate as the excuse was, it was still an excuse for not going to her family. For not facing her family.

  “Do you really think even the wildest of murderers would go after the family of the mayor of North Point?” Gary asked.

  “Why not? They’ve targeted families of federal judges.”

  Gary’s gaze didn’t waver.

  Megan broke eye contact first. She glanced toward the window, found the view uninspiring, void of answers or more excuses.

  “I’ll think about it,” she conceded.

  * * *

  What if Grace had gone home with him?

  The question haunted Jack as he waited for Megan to finish talking to Gary. As he talked to Gary’s wife. As he paced the hospital waiting room.

  Grace usually walked in first. He let her so she could sit as soon as possible. She would have been killed. He probably would have been, as well. Still... Grace had done nothing to deserve her life being put into peril.

  Neither had Jack, other than worry about the safety of a woman he had never met and witness what she had—violence. He knew too much about Cahill’s greed. He had found the path her embezzlement had taken. As he hadn’t yet reported all his findings to her employer, the people who had hired him, he might have endangered his life that way. Though surely the Cahill connection wouldn’t have known about him. They shouldn’t have known about him.

  Except Cahill was, apparently, an excellent computer hacker. She might have gotten information on him from her employer’s system, if they had been foolish enough to write emails about his being hired.

  They shouldn’t have. They should have kept it all offline. People didn’t think that way, though. They put everything where others could reach it. That made his job easier in the long run. One could always find an electronic trail with patience.

  Jack considered himself a patient person. Or had. Not now. Now he was a man needing a long walk or even run in the fresh air.

  That true deep autumn had descended on the Midwest meant the weather was a little too fresh for most people, yet Jack considered the cold air might blow the cobwebs from his brain and help him think what to do next. What he and Megan should do next. They were in this together.

  Together. Such an odd thought. He was never together with anyone. He didn’t have time. Now he was moving away and didn’t have the inclination. Megan and he had, however, been thrown together. He wouldn’t abandon her until this Cahill connection was behind bars and they were both safe.

  He reached the end of the too small—for pacing, anyway—waiting room and turned back just as Megan appeared in the doorway. She stood with her arms crossed over her front. The green of her eyes seemed duller, shadowed with more than fatigue, and her lips quivered as though she wanted to open her mouth and howl in frustration or fear.

  “Let’s go for a run,” Jack said.

  Though they still trembled, Megan’s lips curved into a smile. “Best idea I’ve heard all day.”

  By silent consent, they left the hospital and made their way to the lake path. The waves were high beneath an east wind, rising up with white caps along their tops and sending spray that sometimes reached anyone on the path.

  “Can we pace ourselves?” Megan asked. “I’m not sure I can keep up with you.”

  His legs were a great deal longer than hers, so he kept his stride short, matching his gait to hers. He would have liked to go faster, run as hard and as long as he could, but he wouldn’t leave her behind.

  One mile passed. Two. Three. His face, hair and one sleeve were soaked with spray. The freshness of air from the lake filled his nose, his lungs. His body seemed to open, renewed, refreshed. As clouds blew in over the water, they seemed to blow out of his head, waking him, rousing his need to succeed, not fail. Not slink away like a coward.

  Beside him, Megan picked up her pace. She waved to him, sprinting faster and faster. He lengthened his stride to keep up with her. Blood roared in his ears, as loud as the pounding waves beside them. He felt strong, invigorated. Rejuvenated.

  He laughed and slowed to a halt when Megan stopped, bent at the waist, hands on her knees.

  “That will probably kill me.” She breathed hard. “I haven’t run that fast since high school track.”

  “Were you on the team?” Jack asked.

  “Just junior varsity. I’m too short for true speed.” She straightened. “What about you?”

  “I played baseball.”

  “I can see that.” She nodded, ponytail bouncing.

  The shadows had left her eyes, and her lips appeared firm. Soft—

  He yanked his gaze away. He didn’t need to look at her lips and think that way. They were partners in need for protection, not anything else. And yet...

  He turned to stare at the water, dark gray with the approaching storm. “Did your talk with Gary go all right?”

  “That depends on your definition of all right.” She moved to stand beside him, her own gaze fixed on the roiling waves. “He’s being overprotective of me. And now he wants me to go ask my family for shelter.”

  Jack startled. “Why?”

  “Because they live in a house too big for any ten people to live in, have a good security system, and my mother is mayor of North Point.”

  Something roiled like the waves inside Jack. “So I’ve heard.”

  “Of a small suburb. She’ll be a state senator next.” Her nose wrinkled.

  “You don’t approve?”

  “I don’t have anything against her political ambitions. I didn’t have anything against her career ambitions. But I wanted a mom, too.” She wrapped her arms across her middle as though she were cold. “Do you understand?”

  “I think so.” He pictured his own mom, smiling and warm and always quick with a hug or something to eat, whatever the situation called for. “I had a mom. She didn’t work outside the home, but she worked. She ran a home day care. But she was always there.” He swallowed and blinked against the lake mist in his eyes. “Until she wasn’t.”

  “I’m sorry you lost her.” Megan laid her hand on his arm. “And your dad, too?”

  “Three months later. On the job. A domestic violence call gone bad. But I think he didn’t much care what happened to him anymore.” He covered her hand with his. “Their love for one another was amazing.”

  “That’s wonderful.” She blinked hard. Lake mist or tears?

  A drop of water rolled down her cheek, and Jack received his answer—tears.

  He captured it with the pad of his thumb. “Should I ask what’s up, or should I already know?”

  She huffed a brief laugh. “You should already know. Or guess. Just me, the spoiled little rich girl, who thinks her parents love one another, but isn’t quite sure. Feeling sorry for myself is all.”

  “I’ve only known you for two days, but I’d say they did a good job raising you, regardless of the spoiling.”

  “I think
so. They insisted I work hard. I had to take summer jobs, for example. That’s how I ended up working for Gary. I was studying criminal justice, and it seemed like a good way to get a different perspective on the law. A month doing research for him, and I was hooked.”

  “But your family doesn’t approve.”

  She looked down and tugged at her jacket. “They want me behind a desk wearing heels and a suit. Something safe and stable. So you can see why I can’t go to them for help right now.”

  “Do you have another option?” Jack squeezed her fingers, hoping she’d look at him.

  She shook her head. “I mean, other than finding a cheap motel and holing up until this person is caught. Or these people. But that’s not going to work, either. I can’t just shut down my life.”

  “I understand that. I have to work. I have other clients.”

  “So do I.” She did glance up then. “Is your office all right? Grace said you work from your home.”

  “It has a garden apartment under the house with a separate entrance, so I use that for an office. The rent is cheap.”

  “And I have to replace computers for the office and pick out new furniture and rugs and make sure they get installed and make sure everyone can keep working so they can keep getting paid. I think Gary’s heart is worse than he’s let on, and this hasn’t helped.” Her shoulders slumped as though all those computers and furnishings rested on her back. “I can’t do all that from North Point.”

  “That makes sense to me.”

  If she were Grace, he would wrap his arm around her shoulders. But she wasn’t his sister. His interest in having his arm around her wasn’t in the least sisterly.

  He clasped his hands together behind his back. “I understand where you’re coming from.”

  “I thought you might.” The shadows had gone from her eyes as she gazed into his. The hollows above her cheekbones still held dark circles of fatigue, but her eyes seemed clearer, brighter, greener than they had earlier.

  “Any ideas what to do?” he asked.

  “Keep going and try to find out who is doing this.”

  “Will you go to your family?”

  She shook her head.

  “If I can forgive my uncle—”

  She held up a “stop” hand. “What happened with your uncle is the past. My parents haven’t forgotten a thing and won’t stop trying to run my life.” She rubbed her upper arms. “We’d better get going. That storm isn’t far off.”

  He could see the rain a ways offshore, sheets of silver pounding the waves flat. Hand in hand, they jogged up the beach, back the way they had come, but not as far, for the rain had begun in spits and spatters, and they took refuge in the minuscule entryway of an apartment building with an unlocked outer door. A radiator blasted hot air beneath a row of mailboxes, and they stood before it, their clothes steaming.

  Though Jack was warm in an instant, Megan continued to shiver.

  “I feel like the cold has gone all the way to my bone marrow.” She spoke between chattering teeth.

  “Will this help?” He removed his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders.

  “Thanks.” She pulled it tight. It was twice her size.

  Jack fastened the neck snap beneath her chin, then cupped her cheeks in his hands. Her skin was smooth and flawless without a speck of makeup. A natural beauty who wasn’t vain about her looks. She presented herself to the world as she was, without pretense.

  “You’re something special,” he told her because he couldn’t stop himself.

  “I am?” She blinked up at him. “Why would you think that? Because I won’t trade what I believe is my calling for lots of money?”

  “That, too. But I was thinking because you’re honest and kind and brave and...” He sighed, not because he had run out of complimentary adjectives, but because of what he was about to do. Because he knew he shouldn’t, and yet, when her lashes fluttered, half concealing her eyes, when her lips parted in a silent gasp, he gave in.

  And he kissed her.

  TWELVE

  Megan couldn’t remember the last time she had been kissed. At that moment, she thought maybe she had never been kissed. Certainly no kiss had made her feel like she was soaring along the shoreline. No, above the shoreline. Flying.

  Then a car horn blasted in the street, and they jerked apart as though someone had shoved them in opposite directions.

  Jack scrubbed his hands over his face. “I guess I shouldn’t have done that. I had no right. I—”

  “Please don’t apologize.” Megan’s face felt as red as her hair. “I didn’t exactly push you away.”

  The idea of doing so hadn’t even occurred to her. She might examine that later, but she already suspected she knew the answer—she had wanted him to kiss her. When they had been standing on the shore, with the wild waves and clouds pushing toward them, when they had been standing on her balcony. When—

  “I’m not in a position for a relationship,” Jack said.

  “Neither am I.” She stared at her sandy and wet running shoes, the wet hems of her jeans. “I have an agency to get recovered from this debacle.”

  “I’m moving to Virginia in March.”

  “I’m trying to stay alive right now.”

  “I have a sister who still needs to heal.”

  They fell silent. Megan avoided looking at him. From the position of his body, she guessed he wasn’t glancing her way, either.

  Beyond the glass door, rain splashed down onto the sidewalk like a waterfall. Cars plowing through the flooding street added to the tumult, spattering and hissing and soaking passersby. Above them, someone turned on a stereo with a bass that nearly shook the walls.

  Megan’s head began to pound in rhythm.

  “Now we got all that stuff out of the way,” she said, “I want to go home. And I don’t mean to North Point.”

  “You can’t.”

  “You and what army are going to stop me?” Megan shot him her fiercest glare.

  Jack took another step away from her so his back was to the opposite wall and glared right back. “I can’t, but there’s still a killer out there who’d like to add you to his tally.”

  “You, too. Where will you go?”

  “My uncle’s, I suppose.”

  “At least alone at my place, I don’t need to worry about anyone else getting hurt.” She caught her breath, realizing at once how unkind her words could be if taken the wrong way. “I didn’t mean you were endangering your sister and aunt. I was purely referring to myself. I know you’d always take Grace into consideration first, and...and...”

  That was why she had wanted, welcomed, succumbed to the kiss—Jack was such a kind and good man. His love and tenderness toward his sister were enough to melt the hardest heart, and Megan’s was far from hard. At least it was far from hard where everyone except her family was concerned.

  Ugh. She shouldn’t have a hard heart toward them, either.

  Her stomach rolled. “I’m calling a rideshare.” She dug her phone from her pocket. “We can drop you at the nearest L station.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  Megan’s head shot up. “You’ll what?”

  “Let me come with you so I can make sure your place is safe. I’ll leave right after. I’d just feel better if I can see no one unpleasant is around.”

  “Unpleasant?” That made Megan laugh. “Understatement incarnate.” She tapped out her request. “I’ll let you go with me and play cop to make sure the boogeyman isn’t hiding in a closet or tampering with my gas line.”

  “Thanks for that image. I just want to die knowing I’m taking everyone else with me.”

  She clicked the button for requesting the ride. “Five minutes.”

  Five silent minutes. She didn’t know what to say to Jack. His kissing her had taken their relationship from comp
anions in a dangerous situation to—what? Nothing. They couldn’t continue to be just friends after showing one another how they had begun to feel about the other. At the same time, those feelings had no future. Even if Jack weren’t going away, Megan’s job would surely interfere. She still heard her mother saying loud and clearly, No man will want to marry a woman who is going somewhere any time of the day or night.

  And yet her father had married her mother. She’d been a corporate lawyer who often stayed at the office half the night or longer working on a crucial deadline for a client. Her father was a plastic surgeon and rarely had emergencies. Still he had married Megan’s mom. They had three children. And one thing Megan never doubted was that they loved and respected and admired one another even forty years later, after Mother had dropped the law offices for politics, and Father spent more time wielding a golf club than a scalpel.

  Regardless of what had worked for her parents, Megan would not compromise between her career and a potential relationship. Or maybe a relationship at all.

  The five minutes crept by. The apartment foyer seemed to grow smaller with each second. Jack was so close. Too close. With little movement, she could take his hand in hers, touch his face—

  Her phone pinged to notify her that her ride had appeared. She spotted the sedan drawing up the curb, slammed the panic bar on the door and fled across the sidewalk. Jack followed. She sensed rather heard him coming after her. Once inside the vehicle, she slid across the seat as far as she could. Jack swung himself in and closed the door. He was too big. He took up too much of the back seat. They had been in a smaller car the other night, and she hadn’t minded that. Only now, only after he had kissed her, did she feel like she needed to build a barricade between them, something strong and wide.

  She concentrated on her breathing. Long, slow breaths. Another five minutes to her house. That was all. Another five minutes after that for him to inspect her apartment for signs of an intruder. She could manage that.

  Yet once they reached her apartment, she noticed his hair was damp from the rain, heard her own stomach growling, and thought of the long ride home he still had.