Desperate Measures (Harlequin Intrigue)

by Carla Cassidy

  Get a grip, Lamont, he told himself firmly. If he couldn’t keep those kinds of thoughts out of his head then it was going to be one hell of a long week.

  She finished her second cup of coffee and then rose. “I think I’ll go jump in the shower and get dressed for the day. Then if you could show me your office, I’d appreciate it.”

  “I’m ready whenever you are,” he replied.

  He breathed a sigh of relief when she left the kitchen. He had a feeling having her here was going to be more difficult than he’d initially thought.

  He had to keep a tight control of his emotions where she was concerned. She was just a houseguest who needed a place to stay, not a potential lover he was wooing.

  He rinsed their cups and placed them in the dishwasher and then stepped outside on his back deck. The clouds from the night before had brought no rain and it looked to be another dry, hot day. No rain was fine with him; it kept the construction on the job site going.

  Thank God there had been no report of another Vigilante murder in the morning paper. Going to sit on Clay’s house had been the last thing on his mind the night before. All he’d wanted to do was get Monica out of her house and here where he could assure her safety.

  When he’d driven her here from her house he’d made sure they weren’t followed. If the shooting was gang-related, there was no way anyone from that world would think to look for her here.

  He wouldn’t be surprised if she wanted to put the whole Vigilante hunting on hold. If that was the case, then she could stay here, and he would continue to sit on Clay’s place during the killing hours.

  Although he had joked about having alarms and killer dogs to guard the house, what he did have was a state-of-the-art alarm system and strong locks on each of his doors and windows. He was confident she would be safe here.

  Thirty minutes later she returned to the kitchen. Wearing a pair of denim shorts and a red-and-white-striped tank top, she looked fresh and ready to officially face the day.

  “All ready for me to set you up in the office?” he asked.

  “I just need to grab my equipment from my bedroom.”

  “I’ll help you with that.” He knew her bags were heavy from carrying them into the house the night before.

  He followed her down the hallway to the room he’d given her to stay in. It was a nice room, big and airy and with its own bathroom.

  She’d made the bed up with the navy-and-light-blue spread and matching throw pillows. The room smelled of her scent, that wonderful, slightly exotic fragrance that made his pulse race just a little bit faster.

  It would have been so much easier if he hadn’t kissed her. If he didn’t have the memory of her soft lips beneath his, then he wouldn’t be thinking about kissing her again right now.

  Minutes later they were in his home office, where they unloaded her equipment and she set it up on the desk. Behind the desk was a historic picture of downtown Kansas City, which she proclaimed would make a wonderful backdrop for her podcast.

  “This is great, thank you so much,” she said when they were finished. “What are your plans for the rest of the day?”

  “I’m leaving here pretty quick to check in at the job site and I thought you might want to come take the ride with me.”

  “Oh, I was hoping I’d be here all alone so I could sneak a peek in your underwear drawer and then go through your closet.” She paused a beat, as if waiting for his outraged response.

  He smiled at her. “I’m afraid you’ll be bored to death by both. I prefer boxers over briefs and there are no skeletons rattling around in my closet.”

  She laughed. “Ah, you’re quick, Mr. Lamont. I’m happy to go with you as long as I have enough time later this afternoon to do some research and work on this evening’s podcast.” Any laughter that had been in her eyes disappeared. “I have to tell you, it’s really hard for me to believe that last night’s shooting was in any way tied to my podcasts about the gang issue.”

  He frowned. “Then what do you think it was about?”

  Her eyes darkened. “I think it’s possible it was the Vigilante Killer.” Her voice was a whisper, as if she was afraid the killer might hear her talking about him.

  Jake frowned. “I wondered about that earlier, but what happened last night really isn’t his style.”

  “Forget his style. I’m wondering if he saw our picture in the paper and freaked out. He was watching my house and when he saw the two of us together in the window. We made perfect targets and he tried to kill us both.”

  She stared at him, as if willing him to protest that particular scenario. But he couldn’t. He didn’t know who had been behind the attack the night before and he didn’t know what was worse: a gang that wanted Monica silenced or a killer who feared identification, knew where he lived and now wanted both Monica and him dead.

  * * *

  MONICA HAD TO ADMIT, she wasn’t over last night’s attack. She’d never considered that her choice of career would put her in any danger. Sure, she’d known on some intellectual level that when she partnered up with Jake to find the killer there was a possibility of danger. However, thinking about it intellectually and actually experiencing it were two very different things.

  Jake told her she could stay at the house while he checked in at his job site. He’d even shown her the alarm system and how to set it, but the truth of the matter was she wasn’t ready to be left alone.

  Before they left the house he went into his bedroom and came out wearing his jeans and a light-weight navy blazer over a white T-shirt. “You’re looking pretty spiffy to go to the job site,” she observed.

  “Get used to the blazer,” he replied, and opened one side to reveal a shoulder holster with a gun. “I have a concealed carry license and I intend to carry anytime we leave the house.”

  It was a sobering moment and yet she had to admit she felt safer knowing he was armed.

  As they drove to his job site she found herself looking over her shoulder to the cars behind them, needing to make sure they weren’t being followed by anyone.

  “Try to relax,” Jake said. “Whoever might be after us, they’re like cockroaches that only come out at night.”

  “Do you really believe that?” she asked anxiously.

  “I do. If it’s gang-related, those kinds of things usually happen after dark. If it was the Vigilante Killer, I know those men we suspect have day jobs, and it would be important for them to show up there every day so when an investigation happens nobody thinks there’s anything odd going on with them.”

  She settled back in her seat and tried to relax, but her heartbeat remained slightly accelerated and her nerves were on edge.

  “While you’re out talking to the men on the site, I’m going to make some phone calls. I’m going to try to make contact with some of the gang members who are part of the podcast series. Maybe one of them can tell us what’s going on.”

  “Sounds like a good plan,” he replied.

  It wasn’t until they reached Jake’s job site that she began to relax. She remained in the car as Jake checked in with the men who were working.

  He was greeted with wide smiles and obvious respect from each of the men he spoke to. She wasn’t surprised. Jake was a stand-up, regular kind of guy and Monica found those traits very appealing.

  In fact she was finding everything about Jake appealing. His body was hot and his laughter was as infectious as he’d described his sister’s. He was smart and he made her feel safe and he...

  She consciously willed her thoughts away from the man who was supposed to be her business partner of sorts and instead focused on what she wanted to run on her podcast that night.

  She definitely intended to report the shooting that had occurred at her house and she had another gang member interview to run. She also had to take some time to research what else was big, local news that her a
udience would be interested in.

  She only had a phone number for two of the men who had agreed to be a part of the gang series. She dialed the first number and a robot voice declared that it was not a working number. The second call she made went to an answering machine. She left a message but she doubted she’d hear anything back.

  As she thought of her podcast for the night, she realized she’d better call her father to let him know she was okay. If her family watched, they’d know she was all right, but she seriously doubted any of them had ever watched her show. If they heard about the shooting from any other source, they might freak out. Of course, nobody had called her so she doubted they even knew what was going on in her life.

  Maybe she just needed to hear the sound of her father’s deep voice. She dialed him and he answered on the second ring. “What’s up?” he asked.

  She explained to him about the shooting and before she was completely finished he was already cursing. “If you had a real damn job, crap like this wouldn’t happen.”

  Instantly, hot tears burned at her eyes. “Dad, I just called to let you know I’m safe and staying with a friend.”

  “A friend? Last I heard you didn’t have any friends because you always have your nose in the internet. So, who is this friend?”

  “His name is Jake and I’m going to be staying in his house for the next week or so.”

  “Is this guy a boyfriend?” There was a touch of hope in his voice.

  “No, we’re just friends,” she replied quickly.

  “Hmm, too bad. It’s past time for you to find a good man and get married. You know you aren’t getting any younger. I don’t want you to wake up one day and be one of those old ladies living with a bunch of cats.”

  She laughed. “Dad, you know I’m not fond of cats and I just turned thirty. I have plenty of time to get married and have babies.”

  “Maybe you could give me a grandson. All your sisters have managed to spit out are more girls.”

  “And you’re crazy about those girls,” she replied. Her father might be gruff and outspoken, but he was a marshmallow when he was around his granddaughters.

  “But if you don’t get off this podcast nonsense you’re never going to have a normal life.”

  She sighed. “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” She was grateful to end the call. The conversation had been depressing. Most of her conversations with her father were depressing.

  Why couldn’t he be proud of her, of what she did and who she was as a person? Why did she always get the feeling that she was never quite enough for him?

  Fifteen minutes later Jake returned to the car. “I thought we’d drive through and get some Chinese to take home and warm up for dinner tonight.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Is this guy a boyfriend? Her father’s question whispered through her head. As they pulled away from the job site, she shot surreptitious glances at the man behind the wheel.

  She wouldn’t mind if he was her boyfriend. She wouldn’t mind at all if they ate Chinese for dinner and then they went into his master bedroom and got into bed together. As her boyfriend, he would hold her and make sweet love to her and then she’d fall asleep in his arms. That scenario sounded far too appealing at the moment.

  Casting her gaze out the passenger window, she chided herself. She couldn’t get all crazy about Jake. It wasn’t time for her to find her one true love. She needed to prove herself a success in her work before she could even think about falling in love.

  “You’re awfully quiet,” Jake said, breaking into her thoughts. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. I just had a conversation with my father and he usually manages to depress me a little,” she confessed.

  “I’m sorry,” he replied. He reached over and placed his hand over hers on the console. The physical touch lasted only a moment and then he returned his hand to the steering wheel.

  But the warmth of that simple touch remained with her.

  She had to get her head on straight. Jake had to remain a means to an end and nothing more. “I hope you’re planning on us sitting on Clay’s house again tonight.”

  “Given what happened last night, I wasn’t sure where your thoughts might be about resuming that,” he replied.

  “I’m still all in,” she replied firmly. “The sooner something breaks in that case, the sooner I’ll be out of your life.”

  He cast her a glance. “I’m in no real hurry for you to be out of my life.” Butterflies flew in the pit of her stomach. “I want to make sure you’re completely safe before that happens.”

  The butterflies halted their flight and disappeared. He wanted her safe. He didn’t want her in his life any longer than necessary. He just wanted her...safe. Once again, she stared out the passenger window and wondered why his words somehow depressed her all over again.

  * * *

  HE’D MISSED. THEY hadn’t died. Although he would have preferred to slit their throats like he had so many before them, his main goal had been to kill them as quickly and as efficiently as possible.

  When he’d seen them standing in the window at Monica’s house he’d made his move, firing as many bullets as possible before driving away.

  He’d been so sure he’d killed them, but the morning news had only had a short report of the shooting, indicating that nobody had been hurt.

  Damn. Damn! How had they survived that hail of bullets? Besides needing to take care of them as soon as possible, he was also hungering for the feel of blood on his hands again.

  The morning news had also included a story about a man who was arrested for killing a dog and he had been released to await his trial. He hadn’t been arrested for the death of the dog, but rather for carrying a handgun without a license.

  The man, Greg Bellows, insisted the dog had attacked him and he’d had to kill the animal to save his own life. He’d been carrying a friend’s gun that morning on his walk because the dog had attacked him before.

  He didn’t believe Greg’s story and anyone who could hurt an innocent animal was scum of the earth.

  And he was the self-anointed destroyer of scum. Greg would never make it before a judge. He had already judged him guilty, and his sentence was death.

  His fingers tingled and his heart raced as he thought of the look of surprise Greg would have on his face right before his throat was slit.

  Tonight the Vigilante Killer would take care of Greg. After that his next kills had to be Jake and Monica. They had to die before Jake talked too much and Monica broke a story that might lead the cops to him.

  It was important that the Vigilante Killer survive and thrive. There were just so many people who needed to die.

  Chapter Seven

  Dammit. The killer had struck again. Jake read the article in the morning paper and a wave of anger and renewed guilt swept through him.

  He didn’t know the victim, but what scared him was Greg Bellows had been charged, but not yet tried for his offense. He should have been presumed innocent, but the Vigilante Killer had not only tried him and found him guilty, he’d also handed out the ultimate punishment...death.

  This had been Jake’s biggest fear. The killer was escalating, no longer murdering the last of the men’s perpetrators connected to the pact, but apparently going after anyone he deemed guilty. The thought was absolutely horrifying.

  Last night they had continued their surveillance on Clay’s house and now Jake knew with certainty Clay wasn’t the killer. That left Adam. Jake felt the pressing need to get him arrested, but he had no real evidence to offer the authorities.

  He needed to catch Adam in the act. Unfortunately, it would probably be a week or so before the killer acted again. Just the thought of the man going after somebody created a knot of tension in the pit of his stomach. He hoped like hell the killer made a mistake with this latest murder. He hoped the police found something that would le
ad them to making an arrest.

  He looked up from the paper as Monica stumbled into the kitchen. She got a cup of coffee, sat across from him and offered him a half smile.

  He raised an eyebrow. “This can’t be cranky Monica actually smiling before a couple of cups of coffee.”

  “I’m trying to change my ways.” She took a sip of her drink and released a sigh of obvious satisfaction. “Ah, elixir of the gods.” She gestured toward the paper. “Anything exciting in there?”

  He hesitated a moment before replying. He hated to ruin her morning as his had been ruined. “I wish you wouldn’t have asked me that.”

  “Why?” She took another sip from her cup and eyed him over the rim.

  “There’s a story in here that will take that smile right off your face,” he finally said.

  “What is it?” Her beautiful eyes darkened as she held his gaze.

  “There was another killing last night.” He told her what had happened overnight with Greg Bellows and sure enough, any smile that might have curved her lips disappeared.

  “This is just what you feared,” she said. “This Greg Bellows had nothing to do with the pact.”

  “Even worse than that is the fact that Greg Bellows hadn’t been found guilty of anything. And he didn’t murder a person. I mean, I don’t believe in any kind of animal abuse, but if Greg Bellows was telling the truth he had no option but to kill the dog. And it was possible he’d just get a fine for the gun charge.”

  “So the killer is definitely escalating,” she replied.

  “Yeah.” He sighed in frustration. “But with this latest murder happening last night, that means he might not act for another week or so.”

  “Or he could go back out tonight,” she countered. “We just don’t know. We’re doing all that we can do right now, Jake.”

  “I know, but it’s just not enough.”

  For the next half an hour they talked murder, and then she went to shower and get dressed for the day.

  For the next three days they fell into an easy routine. They went to his job site for about two hours in the mornings and then returned home where he sketched at the kitchen table and she worked on her podcast for that night. At noon they ate lunch together and then at eight o’clock each evening she went back into his office and did her podcast for half an hour. She then returned to the family room where they watched television. Then at eleven thirty they left the house to go watch Adam’s house.