Dangerous To Love

by Toni Anderson, Barbara Freethy, Dee Davis, Leslie A. Kelly, Cynthia Eden, J. Kenner, Meli Raine, Gwen Hernandez, Pamela Clare, Rachel Grant

  “I haven’t experienced anything that leads me to draw any conclusions,” he finally said, not telling her the whole story, but not lying, either. “She might be alive, she might not. The best way to find out is through good, intensive detective work. For instance, paying attention to the tiniest details, which might not seem important at the time. Especially if you’re so close to a case you can easily miss them.”

  She stiffened. “Are you saying I overlooked something?”

  Flipping through the file, he pointed to the disc that contained the audio files she’d brought over earlier today. “Have you listened to these again? Once the heat of the story wore off, I mean?”

  She shook her head. “Not since I got shut down. It seemed pointless. Not to mention frustrating. Why? What do you think is on there?”

  Aidan didn’t know for sure that anything was, but he had a suspicion. “It seemed to me that several of the missing girls had something else in common.”

  “Beyond having crappy home lives and living in the Boro?”

  He nodded.

  Appearing anxious, she reached for her own hand-written transcriptions of the interviews. “What? What did I miss?”

  “It didn’t stand out quite as much in your notes, but it definitely did in their voices.” Wondering if she’d feel the same tingle of interest he had when he’d stumbled across the common refrain that had so interested him, he explained. “Most of the girls’ parents commented that it wasn’t the first time their daughters had dropped out of sight.”

  Her lips tightened and her green eyes flashed as if he had accused her of some wrongdoing. “For no more than a night, two at the most, and always with warning that they were going, or else a reason they might go. This is a completely different . . .”

  “I’m not criticizing you,” he said, waving off her defensive explanation. “Not accusing you of intentionally leaving out details. It wasn’t every girl and you’re right, a teenager fighting with her mother and being gone overnight is not the same as one who goes out on a normal day and never comes back.”

  She relaxed a little in her seat, but continued to eye him, still somewhat wary.

  Aidan pulled the transcripts from her hand and thumbed through the pages, pointing at small sections he’d highlighted. “It’s the way they said it. Not ‘Sometimes we’d fight and she’d stay out all night,’ but ‘One time she left a note that she had somewhere to go, then disappeared for two nights and we never found out where she’d been.’” He found the next one he’d noted, reading aloud again. “‘She scared us once, disappearing one Saturday night and she just seemed really unhappy when she came back.’”

  That one had bothered him. A lot.

  “Then there was the mother who said, ‘Something happened last summer. She was supposed to be at a friend’s one weekend, but she wasn’t. She would never talk about it or admit where she really was.’ A total of six of the families made similar comments. Strange, don’t you think?”

  Her brow was furrowed as she thought about it; then she slowly began to nod. “Okay, I see what you mean. That’s not the standard my-teenager-threw-a-fit-and-took-off complaint.”

  “No, it isn’t.”

  She closed the file, her slender hand resting on top of it, murmuring, “So what does it mean? Where did they all go, and what happened while they were there?”

  “That’s an excellent question.”

  Maybe it didn’t matter. Perhaps it had nothing to do with the disappearance of all these girls. But it was a link between them, a tiny red flag, and often in an investigation, those small flags led to interesting discoveries. “It’s definitely something that will require some good detective work.”

  She snorted. “Not one cop who works for Chief Dunston will help us.”

  “I wasn’t talking about those detectives,”

  No, he had a much more highly specialized group in mind. After all, Julia Harrington had asked him for plenty of favors over the years. It was about time he called in one of his own.

  Extrasensory Agents had resources police departments lacked. Their investigators were uniquely qualified to handle things like this, where the questions of the case far outweighed the leads. If there had ever been a crime meant to be solved by the EA group, this was it.

  Strange that just a few hours ago he was determined to stay out of anything resembling a missing person’s case. He didn’t know whether it was because he’d met Vonnie, or because there were just so many of these girls. Maybe it was just because he felt Vonnie’s terror. Whatever the reason, he couldn’t sit on the sidelines.

  Julia had been saying for months it would happen, that he could never give up his old life completely. He’d thought doing a little crime solving from afar would be enough. He knew now it wasn’t. Not when a case this huge, this important, had landed right in his own front yard.

  For some reason, he had chosen to pack up and move to a town that had turned out to be a deathtrap for teenage girls. And Aidan’s own background, his intense curiosity and his strong sense of justice demanded that he try to do something about it.

  Which meant it was time to get to know a few more of his new neighbors.

  Chapter Six

  Friday, 8:05 p.m.

  Now that the cat-and-mouse game with Vonnie was becoming so entertaining, he had hated to leave her there, all alone in the pit. He had obligations, however. He couldn’t miss tonight’s big football game at the school, not without somebody noticing.

  Then again, perhaps it was just as well that he’d had to leave the girl alone. Keeping his pretty guest on her toes made her that much more interesting. Besides, he’d wanted to see how people were taking the latest disappearance.

  “Hey, everyone, great night for football, huh?” a passing parent called to the crowd.

  He smiled slightly, mumbling, “Every night’s a great night for football!”

  Too bad Vonnie wasn’t here to enjoy it.

  He’d known this one would get more attention. Her disappearance was bound to reignite the fire that had been doused by that idiotic, bought-off puppet of a police chief.

  Funny that he liked the spotlight now, considering he’d spent the past couple of years trying to avoid detection by anyone except a very choice few. At first he’d wanted to arouse the suspicions only of those who knew exactly what all those missing girls had in common. He wanted them afraid, wanted them to realize someone else knew their secrets.

  Most of all, he wanted to punish them. Slowly, deliberately. He intended to drive away their security, their sanity, one chunk at a time until they turned on each other like rabid animals.

  Tormenting those men had given him a great deal of pleasure. It was just what they deserved for what they’d done, the murderous lengths to which they’d gone to protect themselves and their diseased friends. Of course, his other pleasure was in having all those pretty girls to play with. How lucky for him, since torturing pretty girls had been one of his favorite pastimes even before he’d moved here to Granville.

  He’d been satisfied with all of that—revenge, and his time spent with those young ladies. Fear of his own capture had been enough to keep him from ever going further. All had been well, until Alexa Nolan had begun putting things together.

  When that had happened, he hadn’t panicked. He’d simply watched. He’d loved thinking about all the others in this shit-heel town who would be in a panic. Not because they gave a damn about the missing girls, but because any investigation would shed light on their own dark, dirty doings. He could almost hear their whispered phone calls and secret meetings, could see it even through the public masks they wore over their hideously ugly, true faces.

  What fun.

  Then the chief had fouled everything up. Sure, Dunston had inadvertently provided him protection from discovery by shutting the story down. But he’d also removed that thrilling, exciting element that had him watching as his enemies squirmed.

  He’d known he had to get people around here talking agai
n. That’s why he’d chosen her: Yvonne Jackson. Pretty Vonnie. Because while it upped the danger for him, it also put pressure on other men in this town . . . men who owned that police chief and pulled his puppet strings.

  “Can I get you something from the snack bar? Coke, or a hotdog?” asked a kindly voice.

  How nice. The locals were so thoughtful, the ladies predictably feeling sorry for him, a man alone with no little woman at home to take care of him. If only they knew he had a little woman locked in his basement right now, fulfilling his most deadly needs.

  “Thanks, but I’m okay.” He patted his stomach and grinned. “Gotta watch my figure.”

  The woman, who had never realized that she’d known him previously, the last time he’d lived in this hellhole of a place, chuckled. He wondered how hard she’d laugh if she could see what he really thought of her. What would she say if he tore off the nice, easygoing mask he wore, as deceptive and tricky as the ones worn by so many others in this town?

  She’d die of fright, he didn’t doubt. So he kept his thoughts hidden, his dreams his own. He smiled and mingled. And all the while, he glanced at the clock, thinking about what was going on one floor below the ground back in the dark, damp basement.

  Are you still fighting, Vonnie?

  The girl had amazing strength. That hadn’t surprised him initially; most of them had been strong at first. All of his guests had been street kids, tough and hardened by their pathetic lives. Each of them had fought physically, which had provided a few worrying moments and the occasional bruise. Because street kids tended to fight dirty.

  That was okay. He’d been a street kid himself once. He’d learned how to fight at a young age, too—though early enough to stop certain unpleasant things from happening.

  Unlike most of the girls, however, he’d also been smart, and a survivor.

  Before now, none of his captives had exhibited that same ability. None had even been clever enough to play his game, to humor him in an effort to get him to keep them alive a little longer. They’d all been full of bluster and rage, then terror and pleas. Until now.

  Vonnie was different.

  Oh, she’d been full of bluster and rage at first. And she was most definitely terrified. But she’d kept her head about her, pretending to like his stories, playing meek and mild when she’d still had the strength to scream the roof down at the first possible opportunity.

  Fortunately for him, the old house he’d lived in as a child had been soundproofed long ago, in the days when he had been a frequent captive in the pit. The place now used to house reluctant young women had once been used to discipline recalcitrant little boys. Or simply to rape and torture them.

  He knew better than anyone how futile it was to scream. He and Jed had bloodied their vocal cords screaming before realizing it would do them no good. Vonnie had learned that lesson already, too. She was a quick learner. Brilliant. It was almost going to be a shame to kill her.

  A pleasurable one, though.

  Yes, she’d been a wonderful choice, serving so many purposes while giving him so much enjoyment. Taking Vonnie had been a calculated risk, and judging by the tension here tonight, it had paid off beautifully. In fact, everything had gone beautifully.

  “Except one thing,” he whispered with a frown, knowing any passing fan would think he was merely sending up whispered support for their team.

  Yes, there might have been one little hitch. One unforeseen circumstance.

  Nothing had come of it yet. Maybe it never would. Still, he couldn’t help thinking about that car he thought he’d seen in his rearview mirror as he’d slowly driven down the street to follow Vonnie home from school Monday night. The car whose headlights hadn’t been on.

  Had it really been there? If so, why had the lights been off? Had the driver seen him following his target? What other reason could there be for the clandestine driving?

  Could just be a careless teenage driver.

  Maybe. Maybe not. The vehicle hadn’t been there a few minutes later when he’d pulled over, clubbed the girl, and thrown her into his trunk, he knew that for certain. But someone could have seen him turn down that street just a few minutes before Vonnie disappeared.

  Damn it. Not knowing was driving him insane.

  He couldn’t put it off, couldn’t wait to see if anything came of it. He had to act.

  Fortunately, the car had had a distinctive shape. Tonight would be the perfect chance to look for it. Because if he really had seen that car, on that night, in that area, odds were it belonged to a student from Granville High School. Even better odds said it had been one who’d been at that honors club meeting.

  The vehicle was probably right now parked in the school parking lot. Which meant the potential witness against him could be here in this crowd, mere feet away.

  His heart thudded; he knew what he had to do. This one would be far different from his usual type, another honors student who didn’t have the background of the Boro to give him or her—oh God, he hoped it was a her—the strength to fight him.

  How interesting it would be, bringing Vonnie a playmate, especially given what he’d asked her tonight: Will you beg for someone else?

  Like he had once begged for Jed after a particularly brutal beating, when he’d thought the younger boy would die?

  What would it do to the strong, tough girl if she had to watch while another was tortured to death? Would she plead?

  He also wondered about something else. Which would horrify her more—seeing he’d brought her a friend? Or the moment when he took off the mask and let her see his face?

  He shivered at the thought, not with fear, not with worry, but with pure excitement.

  Like he always did when things were about to get especially bloody.

  Friday, 8:35 p.m.

  As she’d predicted, the stadium was packed. Easing in a half hour into the game, Lexie and Aidan were able to skirt the crowd so none of the enemies of truth and justice, as she’d begun to think of Dunston and his cronies, had seen her yet. They headed toward the small building that housed the concessions stand and restrooms, and from there would be able to mix with the fans making their way along the track back to the visitor’s side bleachers.

  “Oh, hell, it’s Stan,” she whispered, seeing a familiar face not ten feet from where she and Aidan stood, trying to sidle their way along the outer fence.

  “What?”

  “Somebody from work.”

  She thought for a second Stan wouldn’t notice her, but his gaze shifted and he suddenly spied her. His eyes narrowed, one lip curling up, and he wove through the crowd of people standing between them, obviously intending to put her in her place.

  “Should somebody call the 1970s and tell them they let one escape?”

  Lexie sucked her lips into her mouth to prevent a startled laugh from spilling out right into Stan’s face. Damn, Aidan could get off a really unexpected remark now and then.

  “Well, if it isn’t Sexy Lexie. What are you doing here?” Stan asked, not trying to hide his true personality since nobody who really mattered was close enough to hear. “Thought you were too sick to work.”

  “I wasn’t sick,” she replied, keeping her tone pleasant. “I was working at home. I had to do a lot of research and I didn’t want to tie up one of the office computers.”

  Stan’s eyes narrowed, as if he didn’t believe her. Or, more likely, he wasn’t happy that Walter hadn’t shared that tidbit with him earlier today. “Well, why did you come tonight? You shouldn’t be here. Nobody wants you around. Haven’t you gotten that yet?”

  Aidan moved closer, until she actually felt the warmth of his tall, lean body just an inch away from hers. They weren’t touching, but almost could have been. Heat rolled off him, and she realized he was genuinely angry—on her behalf.

  Interesting. Even more interesting was the sense that despite the inch of air separating them, she would almost swear she could feel him pressed against her. Her skin tingled beneath her clothes and
her entire left side felt hotter than the right.

  Maybe it was just his presence, solid and powerful. Or his emotions—the sudden, roiling anger and his immediate dislike of Stan, combined with his apparent need to come to her defense. They had become almost tangible.

  Her breath caught for a second and she let the sensations wash over her. Lexie knew, somehow, that if she stood here long enough dwelling on it, this strange, non-physical connection was going to arouse some very definite physical reactions in her.

  Not the time, not the place. Definitely not the man.

  “Who are you, exactly, to tell her where she should and should not be?” Aidan asked.

  Stan, always lacking in intelligence, didn’t take a step back, trying to pretend he wasn’t intimidated by Aidan’s glower, broad shoulders, and imposing height. “Who are you?”

  Aidan ignored the question. “As for who wants Ms. Nolan around . . . I do. Now, do you have any more stupid questions to ask?”

  Stan’s innate pompousness wouldn’t stand for being spoken to like that, no matter how intimidated he was. He shot Lexie a dark glare. “Who’s he?”

  Man, the guy just didn’t know when to quit. Aidan’s voice grew even softer, even more dangerous as he leaned in close. “He is a friend of Ms. Nolan’s. He’s also not deaf.”

  Stan’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

  “If you have any questions to ask me,” Aidan said, “you can make an appointment sometime next year. Now, would you get the hell out of our way so we can go sit down?”

  Realizing he was outmanned in every way, and that Lexie was doing nothing to call off her angry companion, Stan took a step backward. He plucked at his sleeve, fussily, trying to appear unconcerned, then said, “See you in the office, Lexie.”

  “Sure.”

  They watched as the other man turned and hurried away; then Lexie smiled up at her new friend—he’d used the word first, not her. She liked that. Heaven knew she would not have imagined it yesterday when they’d met.

  “I am certain I’ll pay for it Monday when he gives me the third degree and plays the he-was-mean-to-me card, but I must say I quite enjoyed that.”