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

  Lexie had the feeling this effort Olivia Wainwright was about to make would cost her greatly. Whatever demons Aidan battled, he seemed much more able to bounce back after one of his psychic episodes. And while he obviously was affected by the plight of the people he looked for, he never seemed to be personally devastated when his strange connections took place.

  Olivia looked devastated even before she pushed into the room where the draped body still lay on a cold, metal gurney.

  “You’re sure?” Aidan asked. “I can go with you. I’ve already been in once.”

  The woman shook her head. “No. I need to be alone with her.”

  Walter and Ann-Marie exchanged a look.

  “I’ll try to find out as much as I can,” Olivia told the Kirbys. “But there’s only so much I can do. I won’t be able to experience more than the last 130 seconds of her life. If she was already unconscious . . .”

  “Thank you for trying,” Walter said, lifting a shaky hand to stop her from saying anything more. “Whatever you can do.”

  Then, with one more approving nod from the parents, Olivia walked into the other room.

  Nobody sat; they all gathered near the door, and Lexie would bet every one of them cast a look at the large wall clock, measuring the seconds as they ticked by.

  Fifteen seconds felt long.

  Thirty interminable.

  By the time they reached one minute, she realized she was holding her breath, listening for any sound, however minute, from the other room.

  Aidan reached for her hand, holding tight, equally as tense and anxious.

  The clock ticked on, seconds sweeping by. It was more than two minutes, well over four, in fact, before they finally heard Olivia’s shoes tapping on the linoleum floor as she walked toward them. The door swung open, and she emerged through it. Seeing her, Lexie instinctively reached out and grabbed her arm, sure the woman would fall.

  She looked like she had aged a decade.

  The pretty, delicate woman was now gaunt, her mouth hanging open, lines of pain carved into her face as if she’d emitted a long, silent scream that had left its permanent mark on her. Her whole body quivered and shook, and her breath came in short, raspy bursts.

  “Come on, Liv, sit down,” Aidan said, taking one of her arms. Lexie still had the other, and together they guided her into the closest chair.

  “Is she all right?” Ann-Marie asked.

  Walter also appeared worried, but he was still enough of a frightened father to ask what they were all wondering. “Did it work? Were you able to . . . discover anything?”

  Olivia’s head dropped back, and she flinched, jerking once, twice, as if she were being struck, or in the grips of deep, violent chills. Finally, though, the spasms stopped ravaging her body. Her breaths slowed, the color began to return to her ghostly white cheeks.

  “Olivia?” Aidan asked, his tone gentle.

  The other woman licked her lips and nodded weakly. “I’m all right.” Her teeth chattering a little, she added, “Just cold. So cold.”

  Lexie took off her light jacket and draped it over the other woman’s shoulders. Olivia managed a weak smile of thanks. Then, with one final deep sigh, she straightened and looked at Walter and his wife. Her tear-filled eyes held such pain, such unimaginable anguish, Lexie wanted to beg her forgiveness for ever asking her to do this.

  Walter and Ann-Marie grabbed each other’s hands, obviously just as overcome by the momentous thing this stranger had done for them. Their remorse had to be tempered by hope, however, that Olivia might have learned something.

  Finally, the brave woman opened her mouth and told them. “I heard them talking. Their last conversation, the twins. Funny. Joking.” Her voice broke. “Then it happened. Came at them from behind.”

  Ann-Marie made the sign of the cross, but said nothing.

  “It was quick; she didn’t suffer long before she died,” Olivia said, her voice clipped, her lips still trembling with cold, and, Lexie suspected, pain. The shared death might not have taken too long, but, she suspected, the agony of it would endure Olivia’s entire life.

  “She didn’t know,” Olivia added. “Talking with her sister one minute, gone the next.”

  Tears streamed down Walter’s face, but she imagined they would have been much harder had he found out his little girl had suffered for a long time.

  Olivia cleared her throat. “Your daughter, the girl lying in that room?”

  Walter tensed, putting an arm across his wife’s shoulders, both of them readying themselves. “Yes?”

  “Her name was Jenny.”

  Sunday, 3:20 p.m.

  Though Olivia swore she was all right, and wanted get back out to the plantation, where Aidan had picked her up earlier, he and Lexie instead took the woman back to his house and ordered her to lie down. If they’d had the time to spare, he would insist on driving her all the way back to Savannah. Liv promised she would rest and wait for the others to return so she could head back home with them.

  He’d seen her work before, but he didn’t know that he’d ever seen her so affected by what she did. But he suspected, given the gratitude of Walter Kirby and his wife, Olivia didn’t have any regrets about it, despite how long the memories might live in her mind.

  Having talked to Julia about what was going on there, he considered going out to the plantation house himself. Two things stopped him, though. First, he still hadn’t talked to Chief Dunston. He’d been sidetracked by the request the Kirbys had made and had never made it out to the crime scene.

  Second, he didn’t want to leave Lexie alone.

  Walter and his wife had finally agreed to go home. They not only had decisions to make, they also had two other daughters in the care of relatives, waiting to find out what had happened to their older sisters. He didn’t envy them that conversation.

  Knowing there was nothing she could do to help them now, beyond fighting to bring Taylor home, Lexie had insisted on getting back to work. With that obviously foremost in her mind, as soon as they left his place again, she said, “Can you take me downtown? I want to go to the county office building, start searching the records on that property. I don’t have the actual address, so I’m going to have to check some survey maps.”

  “It’s Sunday; won’t they be closed?”

  With a grim smile, she said, “One of the few benefits of living in small-town hell. The town clerk is another one of Walter’s poker buddies. I called him while you were talking to Julia, and he agreed to meet me over there.”

  “All right. While you do that, I’ll track down Dunston.”

  “Chief Dunce,” she murmured, slowly shaking her head. “I still can’t quite accept that he might not be the douche bag I’ve always thought he was. I never would have believed the way he talked to the mayor if I hadn’t heard it for myself.”

  “I don’t think he’s bad. Just lazy. He started believing his own stories about how quaint and peaceful this place is and turned a blind eye to anything that didn’t fit that picture.”

  She sneered, staring out the window. “It’s as quaint and peaceful as a slaughterhouse. I am so outta here when this is over.”

  He understood the sentiment. A year ago, when he’d come here to escape everything about his past life, he hadn’t imagined ever wanting to go back. Now that he’d been so forcibly reminded that ugliness and evil were in no way exclusive to any one place, he had to admit, he wouldn’t mind getting out of here, too. The sooner the better.

  Especially now that the only thing he liked about Granville had just told him she intended to leave it.

  “Where will you go?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. Savannah. Atlanta. Maybe Jacksonville.”

  Though he knew he probably didn’t have to remind her, he still said, “You do know there’s no place you can go that won’t have its own brand of tragedy and ugliness.”

  She turned to look at him, her pretty face still marked with the tracks of her tears. “Says the man who moved here
just to escape?”

  “True enough,” he admitted, “which is how I’ve come to realize it doesn’t matter where you are. Humans will be humans. As capable of brutality as they are of love, and it really doesn’t make any difference where they go to sleep at night.”

  “Does that mean you’re actually going to stay here?”

  “Fuck no,” he snapped, the words flying out of his mouth. “I hate this town.” He’d always hated it, he had just thought hating his home was fine when he had spent the past year pretty much hating himself.

  Lexie laughed briefly, though the sound quickly died, humor unable to be sustained on a day this bleak. “Ditto.”

  “You’ll have to be sure to leave me your forwarding address when you go,” he said, trying to keep his tone light, though the thought bothered him. A lot.

  But after knowing her such a short time, he had absolutely no claim on her. She could go wherever she wanted, the fact that they’d had sex this morning didn’t change anything.

  “You planning to come visit me?”

  “Would you want me to?”

  She didn’t respond right away, instead shifting a little and reaching for his hand. He took it, lifting her cold, trembling fingers to his mouth and brushing a kiss on her knuckles.

  “Actually,” she admitted, “I’m counting on it, Aidan. When this is all over, no matter where I go, or where you go, I’m depending on you still being around, even if you live in the next state.” She brushed her fingertips against his jaw, adding, “I think you could be someone I want in my life for a long time.”

  He hesitated, realizing she was admitting she had feelings for him that went beyond this week, this story, this immediate sexual attraction.

  That admission scared the hell out of him. He had a hard enough time maintaining his own sanity without bearing the burden of someone else’s emotions, which is why he’d never let himself really care about anyone beyond the most basic friendships.

  Funny, though. He had the feeling it had happened anyway.

  He and Lexie had known each other only a few days, but they were already far beyond anything he’d let himself feel before. Basic friendship would not have filled him with the driving desire he felt for her. Nor with the tenderness he’d felt when watching her sleep in his arms. It wouldn’t have him ready to rip someone apart for putting his beefy hands on her in that alley, or made him feel helpless against those tears in her eyes. It wouldn’t have landed him in a room with a set of grieving parents who he knew wanted him to be their child’s savior. He most definitely wouldn’t have already begun to trust her—especially given her profession, if he felt only the most simple, casual friendship for the woman.

  She’d worked her way in. Quietly, quickly. Thoroughly.

  She’d inserted herself into his life.

  Lexie changed the subject before he could come up with any kind of a reply. “There it is,” she said, pointing to a pretty, three-story brick structure that dominated the square at the center of downtown Granville. Few cars were parked on the nearby street, with most of the shops closed on Sunday, so he was easily able to find a spot on the side of the building.

  He had already decided to walk her inside, not about to let her out of his sight given what was going on in Granville, when he realized he was probably going to end up sticking around a little longer, anyway. Because pulling into the parking space directly behind him was a squad car. And behind the wheel of that car was just the man he wanted to see.

  “Think that’s a coincidence?” he asked, eyeing the chief in his rearview mirror.

  Lexie turned around in her seat and raised a speculative brow. “I somehow doubt it.”

  They got out of the SUV just as Dunston reached the driver’s side door.

  “Chief Dunston,” Aidan said, “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to get over to see you sooner. We got tied up at the hospital.”

  “I heard,” the man said, his tone hard, but his expression at least a bit interested. “You tellin’ me some friend of yours really knows for sure which Kirby girl is lying in that morgue?”

  Lexie joined in the conversation from the sidewalk. “There’s no doubt about it, Chief. I’ve never been much of a believer in this stuff, and I know Walter and Ann-Marie haven’t, either. But we were all entirely convinced.”

  That was true. When Olivia had related how she knew it was Jenny who had died last night, including repeating the words she’d heard between the girls, Lexie, Walter, and his wife had all started crying all over again. Lexie had told him afterward that it was because Olivia, who had never met either of the twins, had relayed exactly the kind of conversation they would normally have, nailing each girl’s personality, right down to the cadence, the words they’d used and the way they’d spoken to each other.

  “So did you just happen to see us pull up?” Aidan asked, suspecting that wasn’t the case.

  Dunston shook his head. “Got a call from Frank. He wanted to know if it was true, what Ms. Nolan here told him.”

  Raising a questioning brow, he asked, “Frank?”

  “The county clerk,” Lexie explained.

  “He seems to think you are on the trail of some important clue,” Dunston said, staring hard at Lexie. “You aren’t running around trying to play detective, are you?”

  She lifted a shoulder and responded, “Old habits. You’ve got to give me a chance to get used to the idea that you might be on my side all of a sudden.”

  The man pushed his sunglasses onto the top of his head, his gaze clear and unwavering. Any blinders he’d been wearing up until now had definitely been torn off. “I am on the side of this town,” he told her. “And every person who lives here, both north of Woodsboro Avenue and south of it.”

  “Fair enough.” Lexie stuck out her hand to the man, and Dunston took it. “Let’s go talk inside. Aidan can fill you in on what we know and I’ll tell you exactly what we’re looking for here.”

  The chief nodded his agreement, and the three of them walked together up the tree-lined sidewalk. A thin, nervous-looking man of around sixty stood outside a door marked “Employees Only.” As they approached, he saw Lexie and the chief together, and suddenly appeared worried.

  “It’s all right, Frank,” said Lexie, waving a hand, letting him know she wasn’t angry that he’d called the chief on her. “We’re all in this together.”

  “I was so sorry to hear about Walter’s daughters.” The man’s voice wavered, as if he’d done some crying himself today. “Anything I can do to help, I’ll do it.”

  “That’s good,” said the chief, clapping the other man on the shoulder. “Actually, I’m waiting to find out what we’re doing here, too.”

  Once they got inside, the clerk led them to a conference room. “If you’ll wait here, I’ll go get the information you asked for, Lexie. I already started looking for the file on that property and should have it within a couple of minutes.”

  “Thank you,” she said, leaning against the large block table that dominated the room. She didn’t sit down, looking too keyed up, desperate for this to work, for them to find something.

  As soon as they were alone again, Aidan began to explain everything to Chief Dunston. He did it as quickly and concisely as he could, and Lexie jumped in to add details he neglected to mention, including the fact that they’d first heard about the mysterious Hellfire Club from some teen prostitutes.

  “Out in the country, according to these girls,” the man said, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully. “And what led you to decide that meant Terrytown Road?”

  When Lexie fixed a pointed stare at him, Dunston’s face reddened. “I turned those bone fragments over to the medical examiner this morning,” he said. “Didn’t fully believe it myself, but he confirmed they’re human soon’s he saw ’em.”

  “Jessie Leonard,” Lexie murmured.

  “The first girl? How do you know it’s her?”

  Telling the man what the prostitutes had said, about how Jessie had gone to one of those cl
ub parties and had never been seen or heard from again, Lexie made a pretty convincing case.

  They might get even further confirmation soon. Derek, Julia, and Mick were still out at the plantation, and if they found the actual spot where Jessie died, Derek would probably know it. At least, as long as the death had been a violent one. Peaceful passings didn’t usually leave an imprint on this world—but he didn’t imagine any death that took place at that club could ever be assumed to be non-violent.

  God did he hope it played out that way, and they didn’t have to ask Olivia to touch the remains Dunston had turned over to the ME. He didn’t know if the woman would be up to going through that twice in one day, especially since she usually resisted doing it at all.

  Dunston, who listened to Lexie’s explanation about what had led them to that house without interrupting, hesitated when she finished. Then he made a surprising admission of his own. “I was out on Old Terrytown Road myself last night. Following a van full of local men. Guess you didn’t hear that part of my conversation with the mayor.”

  “No, we didn’t. Why were you out there?” asked Lexie.

  He told them what he’d been up to, and Aidan and Lexie could only exchange looks of shock as they realized they had seriously underestimated this “local yokel” police chief.

  Aidan had a hard time believing it, but it sounded as though they had come close to running into the members of the club last night. “What time was this?”

  “About seven thirty or so.”

  “Right around the same time we were there.” As the truth suddenly hit him, Aidan smacked his hand on his own forehead, wanting to hit himself again for having been too stupid to see it. “Damn it, that van!”

  Lexie sucked in a shocked breath, understanding, too.

  “A white passenger van flew by us when we were leaving the estate,” Aidan admitted. His muscles tensed and his hands fisted. “I heard them. Sons of bitches, I heard their sick, twisted voices and attributed it to moving the log back into place.”