by Lolli Powell
“Come on, Brandon,” Will said. “Let’s take a walk. You can show me your neighborhood. And forget what your mother said. Bug me all you want.”
“All right!”
Jen watched the two of them leave the apartment, Brandon chattering happily. She felt a strange mixture of emotions, both relief that they seemed to hit it off so well and an odd sensation of being left out. It was a male thing, she knew, a bond that the two of them were forging, and she knew Brandon needed that. Still, she’d had him to herself for so long that it felt strange to share him with someone, even for just an evening.
The salads were dished out, the potatoes baked and waiting, and the chicken breasts nearly ready to come off the grill by the time Will and Brandon returned to the house. She’d expected Will to be regaling her son with war stories about life as an FBI agent, but to her surprise, the two of them were discussing chess. Brandon had learned to play the year before and had become good enough to join the chess club at the start of this school year.
“After we eat, I’ll play you a game,” Will said, “but I have to warn you, I’m pretty good. And I’m not going to let you win just to make your mother like me.”
“She likes you already,” Brandon said, “or else you wouldn’t be here. No other guy’s ever ate with us since Dad.”
Now I know why mothers beat their children, Jen thought, feeling her face redden. Judging from the look on his face, her thirteen-year old monster knew exactly what he’d done.
“Is that right?” The corners of Will’s mouth had turned up in that sexy close-mouthed smile of his. He looked infuriatingly pleased with himself. “I’m very glad to hear it.”
“The food’s getting cold.” Jen turned to the sink. “If you two want anything to eat, you’d better wash your hands.”
The two of them headed off to the bathroom, chuckling. In a few minutes, they were back, and the three of them sat down at the kitchen table. For the next twenty minutes, the conversation barely stopped long enough for them to dish food into their mouths. As she watched her son enjoying Will, she felt a pang. This is the way it should be for him, she thought. Boys need a man in their lives, especially as they grow into teenagers.
Watching Will interacting with her son made her feel warm and happy. Maybe, she thought, boys aren’t the only people who need a man in their lives.
He looked up at that moment, and their eyes met. As they stared into one another’s eyes, she knew they had just moved forward another step. He had passed the test that this meeting had been, and so had she and Brandon.
CHAPTER 23
At a quarter till eight, Jen left Will and Brandon at their chess game while she showered and dressed in slacks and a lightweight sweater for her night out at The Factory. By the time she’d finished, Brandon was groaning good-naturedly over his defeat.
“You’re a good player, Brandon,” Will said. “Better than most people who haven’t been playing any longer than you have.”
Brandon glowed under Will’s praise.
“You two get things picked up while I talk to Ada,” Jen said. “You know what time to go to bed, Brandon. I’m going to tell Ada to check.”
“Aw, Mom,” she heard Brandon grumble as she went out the door.
Ada Levinson’s apartment was directly across from Jen’s. Ada had lived in the building for nearly twenty-five years, the first twenty with her husband, Aaron. She was three months shy of her eightieth birthday, but she could have passed for ten years younger. She was a petite woman with gray hair, blue eyes, and plenty of wrinkles, but her back was straight, her eyes alert, and her mind sharp.
“Why, hello, Jen.” Ada opened the door at her knock. She was dressed in a pair of gray sweatpants and a white sweatshirt with the words “Warning: Parts Might Fall Off” emblazoned across the front. “Won’t you come in?”
“I’d love to, Ada, but I’ve got to run—as usual. I just wanted to remind you that I was going out.” She had stopped by Ada’s that morning on her way to work to ask if she could keep an eye on Brandon that evening. “I’ll be leaving in the next few minutes.”
“I’ll look in on him, don’t you worry.”
“I never do when you’re around.” Jen kissed the old lady on her soft, wrinkled cheek. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”
“Don’t try,” Ada said. “You know I love doing it.”
“I shouldn’t be too late. Probably not much after midnight, unless, of course, we get lucky.”
“Honey, please be careful.” Ada frowned. Jen had told her that morning that she and another officer were going to the club and why. “I wish you’d get out of that business. I worry so about you.”
“Now, Ada. It’s a dirty job, but you know somebody has to do it,” Jen teased.
“I know. I just wish it wasn’t you.”
Ada was old-fashioned, and as far as she was concerned, a badge was no thing for a woman to be wearing. Al and Ada would get along great, Jen thought.
“Is that handsome fellow going to that nightclub with you?”
“Why, Ada, I’m surprised at you! You’ve been spying out your peephole again!”
“I saw him out the front window first,” Ada said. “Then the peephole. Brandon told me you had invited an FBI agent over for dinner, and I just wanted to see what one looked like.”
“Well, were you disappointed?”
“Not at all.” Ada shook her head. “You certainly know how to pick them. That is a fine-looking man. Not as handsome as my Aaron was at his age but still very attractive.”
Jen laughed. Will seemed to be making points with everyone in her life. And if Ada thought he was nice now, wait till she met him. Unless Jen was underestimating Will Anderson’s charisma, he’d have her neighbor wrapped around his little finger within minutes of their introduction.
“No, he’s not going with me. I’m going with one of the female patrol officers. I want to see if anyone reacts suspiciously to us as two women out on the town.”
“Well, I don’t like it,” Ada said. “I’d feel a lot better about it if your FBI friend was going along.”
“He’d feel better about it, too, but it can’t be helped. Listen, I’d better get moving. Thanks, Ada, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She hurried back inside her apartment before Ada could protest more. Will and Brandon had the chess set put away and their pop cans picked up. She kissed her son goodbye and gave him last minute instructions on brushing his teeth and bedtime.
As Will and Brandon made their goodbyes, Jen couldn’t miss the obvious affection in Brandon’s eyes when he looked at Will. And, unless she was mistaken, that same affection was reflected in Will’s eyes.
“You’ve got a good boy there,” Will said as they walked to their cars. “You’ve done a good job.”
“Thanks.” Jen felt inordinately pleased at his approval. “I’ve been lucky.”
“I doubt luck has had that much to do with it.” Will turned to her as they reached her car. “You deserve all the credit for that boy upstairs.”
Jen fumbled with her car keys, trying to hide her embarrassment. They were standing close to one another, wedged between her car and the one next to it. Now Will took her chin in his hand and tilted her head up to look into her eyes. His own beautiful blue ones darkened as she looked at him.
“Be careful tonight,” he said. “I mean it. I’d have to kill somebody if they hurt you.”
“If somebody hurts me, I hope you do kill them,” she said lightly, trying to ignore the way his touch made her feel. “In fact, I would expect it.”
“I’m serious, Jen.” He stroked his hand across her cheek, brushing her hair away from her face. “I think you’ve figured out by now that I care a lot for you.”
His voice had dropped to a husky whisper, and she shivered slightly as desire for him swept through her.
“Now that I’ve found you, lady, I don’t want to lose you.”
His hand slid around to the back of her head, and he pulled her to him. For
a brief moment, as his lips closed over hers, she wondered if her son and neighbor were watching from the windows. Then she forgot all about them as she gave herself over to the need burning through her.
His lips felt almost hot as her own parted, and their tongues touched, tentatively at first, then hungrily, tasting and stroking one another. He pulled her against the length of his body, and she slid her arms around him, her hands exploring the breadth and length of his strong back. She felt the muscles in his back ripple as he shifted position so that his legs were slightly spread, his hips thrust forward so that his growing hardness pressed against her. Groaning, she fell backward against the door of her car, and he followed with his body.
The front door of the apartment building slammed, and a chattering couple she recognized as her downstairs neighbors came out the door. She pushed Will away, suddenly embarrassed at being caught making out in the parking lot like a teenager. He turned slightly so that his back was toward the couple in an attempt to hide the bulging front of his pants.
“Now look what you’ve done.” He grinned, as his eyes cut down at his front.
“I think I had a little help.” She grinned back at him and resisted a very powerful urge to run her finger over the bulge to test its firmness.
She glanced over his shoulder and saw movement as Ada and Brandon pulled back from their respective windows.
“I think we had an audience.”
Will glanced up at the windows and laughed. “Brandon?”
“And Ada. I just saw one at each window. They ducked back when I looked up.”
He turned back to her and put his hand on the roof of her car. Bracing himself, he leaned over and kissed her lightly, taking care not to touch her body with his.
“I hope they enjoyed watching as much as I enjoyed doing,” he whispered against her lips.
“You’re incorrigible.”
She placed a hand against his chest and pushed him firmly away. His erection was beginning to dissipate, and she looked pointedly down at the front of his pants.
“I think you’re decent enough to go to your car now,” she said. “I’ve got to get going, or Trish will think I’m not showing.”
“Okay, okay, I can take a hint.”
He backed up and opened the driver’s door for her. She got in, and he leaned in after her, kissing her again.
“Be careful.”
“I will be. I promise.”
“You could call me when you get home.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow at work, Will,” she said firmly.
“It was worth a try.” He shrugged and closed the car door.
She was still smiling as she pulled out of the lot. He was walking a little stiff-legged as he made his way to his own car. She could still feel his hardness pressed against her as if it had left an imprint on her body. She shivered as she wondered what it would feel like to have that hardness inside her.
CHAPTER 24
Trish Peters was waiting by her new black Camaro when Jen arrived at the city employees’ parking lot. She wore a denim miniskirt and jacket, an embroidered western-style shirt, and thigh-high blue leather boots. Her long blond hair hung loose around her shoulders.
Trish was twenty-five years old and had been on the department for three years, having come to them fresh out of college with a degree in Criminal Justice. She was tall, just over six feet, with large-boned good looks that she had inherited from her Swedish mother.
“The way you look in that mini, no one will bother asking me to dance,” Jen complained, as Trish slid into the passenger seat of Jen’s five-year old Mustang.
“I thought we were working tonight, not trolling for men.”
“I didn’t say anything about trolling for men. I just said nobody would ask me to dance. Besides, your outfit doesn’t exactly look like work clothes.”
Trish laughed and fastened her seat belt.
“I don’t think you have anything to worry about. You look fine. Besides, from what I hear, you’ve got all the action you can handle.”
“And exactly what have you heard?”
“Oh, just that a certain gorgeous FBI agent and you have been working very closely on this case. Any truth to the rumors?”
“You’ve been talking to Jamie. You have to remember Jamie has a tendency to jump to conclusions.”
“Jamie? I didn’t hear anything from Jamie. Jeff Holloway told me he’d seen you and Anderson out together the other night.”
Jen groaned.
“We weren’t out together,” she said. “We just stopped at Tango’s to get something to eat. We’d been working late.”
“Um-hmmm.”
Jen laughed.
“Okay, okay. So maybe there’s some truth to the rumors. But,” she cautioned, “it’s too early to tell how much.”
“I’ve seen the man around the building,” Trish said. “Tell me, is he as good as he looks?”
“That’s for me to know and for you not to find out,” Jen said and was immediately surprised at herself. In essence, she had just staked out her territory. She hadn’t even found out for herself if he was as “good as he looked,” as Trish put it, but already she was warning other women away from him.
“Enough about my love life,” she said, shaken by what she had just recognized in herself. “How’s yours?”
“Getting better, no doubt about it. Of course, just getting rid of that jerk I was married to was a huge improvement in itself. Would you believe, that creep had the nerve to call me a few days ago and ask me out. When I stopped laughing, I hung up on him.”
“Nothing surprises me anymore,” Jen said. “Least of all, male behavior.”
Trish mumbled her agreement. Jen glanced at her. She acted tough, but that’s all it was—an act. She’d never let anybody, maybe not even herself, know how much Les’s betrayal had hurt her.
Six months before, Trish had married a handsome state trooper named Les Ransom. They had met when she covered him on a felony stop of a stolen car. It had been love at first sight, or so it seemed. They married after only two months of dating, and for a while, it seemed that they were going to live happily ever after. Les lavished attention on Trish, sending her roses for no special reason, calling her at work every chance he got just to tell her he loved her. One day she found out why.
She had been working communications because the regular communications supervisor was on vacation, and the department’s policy was that a sworn officer always supervised communications. Les had called her from home just to tell her how much he missed her. Trish had hung up, and on the spur of the moment, decided to surprise her husband by running home for a quick lunch break.
She had surprised him all right. She had also surprised her next door neighbor’s wife. Les begged for forgiveness, but Trish was not one to allow second chances. The divorce had been final now for a little over a month.
“Looks like a halfway decent crowd tonight,” Jen said, as she turned into The Factory’s parking lot. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and locate this weirdo.”
“I’m sure that if we locate any weirdo, I’ll marry him.”
“Not the boy we’re looking for.” Jen shook her head. “His bedside manner is definitely lacking.”
“So I’ve heard,” Trish said. “Just between you and me, Jen, I hope we don’t find him. I’d like to leave this one to the guys.”
As Jen parked the car, she thought about Vicki and Carla. Trish was right. She didn’t want to be the one to find this maniac either. Yet as long as he was walking free, with the worms squirming and eating on his brain, she and every other woman in the city were in danger.
CHAPTER 25
Neither of the women noticed the man sitting in a car parked two rows behind them. He watched as they walked to the door of the club, thinking how close it had been. If he’d been just a few minutes later, he would have missed her and would have had to wait for her return. He didn’t like that because it gave him too much time to think and grow nervous. Nervousn
ess caused mistakes, and he couldn’t afford mistakes, especially not with this one.
But he hadn’t been too late. He’d been right on time—right on the money, as Father would have said. It was a sign he would succeed. Tonight would be a real challenge, and he was looking forward to meeting it. He was also looking forward to discovering how the lovely Detective Dillon would like the surprise he had in store for her.
He decided against following them inside. Instead, he waited in his car, watching other women going and coming, some of them with men that they wiggled against, simpering and teasing. He was glad Father had schooled him about them. Otherwise, he might very well be one of their helpless victims, forever ensnared by the promise of what was between their legs.
One had almost managed that. She had been paid to take care of him after Father’s arrest. She took care of him all right but not the way the courts had intended. At first, he had been infatuated with her, blinded by the sensations that her body aroused in him. He had thought it was love, and he’d thought she loved him—until she turned on him. Then he recognized her for what she was. A vampire. A vampire who drained the life-giving fluid from his body, then demanded more until it was no longer convenient for her.
He gripped the steering wheel hard, his knuckles white. He should have done her. By all rights, she should have been his first kill, but he was young then and scared. He let her get away, but even though it had taken years, he'd found a good substitute. Not her, but one that looked and acted very much like her, one he’d met in this very parking lot. Meeting her had brought him back to the hunt and set him on the path to finding more like her. None would get away again.
His hands began to ache from the force of his grip, and he released the wheel. This wasn’t good sitting here like this thinking about things that were best left in the past. Waiting and thinking made him nervous, and he couldn’t afford that.
He forced himself to relax. This wasn’t good sitting here like this thinking about things that were best left in the past. Waiting and thinking made him nervous, and he couldn’t afford that.