by Cynthia Eden
She laughed. The sound felt alien to her. But in that moment, the laughter just escaped. She felt happiness trickle through her. The sweet, poignancy of…what if.
It would be so nice to let go. To try falling for someone new again. To think of a future.
But her laughter died away because Alice knew she might not have a future. The picket fence and Friday night football routine might not be in the cards for her.
She was going to end the nightmare. She was going to meet her Secret Admirer. Only she might not be walking away from that meeting.
But she didn’t tell Zander those things. Alice swallowed down her pain and held his stare. “I will.”
He pressed a kiss to her lips.
And she wondered…could he tell that, this time, she was the one lying?
***
The rough buzz of sound pulled Zander from sleep. His head turned toward the nightstand, and he saw his phone vibrating on the wooden surface. He reached out for it and read the text from Randall quickly.
I’m on the front porch. Need to talk.
Zander cast a quick glance at Alice. Her breathing was slow and easy, and her body was so soft and sweet against his. She’d fallen asleep in his arms. Talk about an act of trust. She might still be furious as hell at him, but deep down, he thought she might be starting to come around. To forgive him, at least, he hoped she was.
He’d meant every word that he’d said to her. Zander would never hurt her again. He couldn’t stand to ever see that look of betrayal in her beautiful eyes. The Bureau had been wrong about her. Alice wasn’t a perp. She was the victim. And Zander would all of the power he had to keep her safe.
He pressed a soft kiss to her cheek and then slid from bed. Zander paused long enough to yank on his jeans, and he shoved his phone into the back pocket. He made his way downstairs, his bare feet not making a sound as he avoided the steps that creaked. Once on the main floor, he peeked out of the window, because yeah, it paid to be careful. A killer was on the loose, and he was going to verify the identity of his visitor before he opened the front door.
His partner was on the porch, his hands loose at his sides, the light glaring down at him. Zander unlocked the door and ushered him inside.
“Got fucking news,” Randall muttered, face tight.
Zander locked the door. “And the news isn’t that you caught the bastard?”
Randall gave a hard, negative shake of his head.
Figured. And the way Randall was acting, this news wasn’t going to be good. Zander headed for the den. He cast a quick glance upstairs, but saw no sign of Alice.
“Where is she?” Randall asked him.
“Sleeping. Guilt tore her apart when she found out what happened to Cara.” The fire had long gone out, and the charred remains of the wood were cold in the fireplace. He propped his shoulder against the mantel as he faced Randall. “What brought you to my place at 3 a.m.?”
Randall shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “He was watching her.”
“Yeah, I suspected as much. He’s stalking her, just like his other—”
“No, Z, you don’t get me. After Cara—” He broke off, then squared his shoulders. “I brought in a new crime scene team. They went over every inch of Alice May’s cabin. And they found what we’d missed before.”
Zander tensed. “Just what had we missed?”
“He had cameras in her place. Tiny as hell. Top of the line. He was watching her. In the bedroom. In the bathroom. In the kitchen. He was watching her everywhere she went in that house.”
Zander’s stomach twisted as rage burned in his blood. “If the cameras were transmitting, our techs can track the signal, they can find—”
“They’re trying, but this guy is good. The signal is bouncing around over half of the United States. The guy knew what he was doing.”
And Zander understood. “Shit. The power—it went out during the big storm. My cabin went black, and I bet Alice’s did, too.” Everything made terrible sense. “At my place, the lights were out for a good ten, maybe fifteen minutes.” Dammit, dammit! “The perp didn’t know she’d left. The last thing he saw was probably the footage of her turning out her lights and getting into bed.”
Randall nodded. “Then when he went inside and she wasn’t there, the guy went berserk.”
“He’s going to know you found the cameras.” If the killer had still been watching, he would have seen the techs make the discovery.
“Yeah, he’ll know.” Again, Randall gave a grim nod. “Already talked to our profilers. And they say he was watching her as a form of control. He needed to know everything she was doing. Needed to make sure she didn’t get close to anyone else. And now that he can’t see her, they think he’s going to unravel.”
Like the bastard wasn’t already unhinged? “That’s how he knew Cara wasn’t Alice. He could see Cara in the cabin. He could see us all. He’s been a step ahead of us all along.” Zander surged away from the fireplace, every muscle in his body tight. “Dammit!”
“FBI brass wants Alice pulled in. They don’t think she’s secure here. And the profilers want a run at her. They think she knows this bastard.”
Yeah, Zander thought the same thing. Like he’d told Alice, why else would the guy disguise his voice?
Randall raked a hand over his face. “The story is going to make the news. No way to hide it. The town is already buzzing about Cara’s death. And as soon as word is out that the Secret Admirer is hunting again, the shit storm will begin. Alice will be hounded by the media every second. She won’t be any use to us then.”
Zander’s hands fisted. “FBI brass wants to move Alice to another safe house because they’re still planning to use her as bait. It’s not about keeping her away from the media.” Not about keeping Alice safe.
“You know how this stuff works, Z.” Frustration was clear on Randall’s face. “Look, you think I like this? We were all wrong about her. Now the killer is gunning for her. We need to get her moved, and we need to come up with a plan B, fast.”
The stairs creaked. Zander’s gaze immediately jerked toward them. Alice was there. Her hair was tousled, and she wore his shirt—it fell to her thighs. Her face was pale, and her eyes appeared even bluer than normal as she stared back at him.
Zander exhaled slowly. How much had she heard? Probably too much. He cleared his throat and asked Randall, “What about Tiffany? Have you found her?”
“No.” Grim. Angry. “But we found video footage of her heading into the hospital’s parking garage. She went in, but never came out.”
“Any sign of her vehicle?”
“Her car is still in the hospital’s garage.”
Alice climbed down the last few steps. Her bare toes curled into the hardwood floor. “He has her.”
“That’s what we believe.” Randall wasn’t pulling any punches.
Alice glanced down at the floor, then she squared her shoulders. Her chin lifted. “I’m not going to a new safe house.”
Oh, hell…Zander stalked toward her. “Alice—”
She lifted her hand, stopping him. “The media will close in, just like you said. But I’m not going to hide from them. I’ll give them a statement, one that I know they can deliver to the killer.” Her lips twisted in a smile that never reached her eyes. “I’m sure he’ll be watching. After all, Randall, I heard you say how much he enjoys watching me.”
Zander’s hands fisted. “Baby, just take a breath, you don’t—”
“I will go on camera, and I’ll offer him a deal. Me for Tiffany, just what he wanted.” Her voice was flat, almost eerily calm. “And you two—well, I’m hoping the FBI has the best tracking equipment in the world. You can track me when I go to the exchange. You can follow me. You can find him.” A little shrug. “And if everything works out the way I hope, I’ll get to live.”
He couldn’t stay away from her. Zander eliminated the last bit of distance between him and Alice. “You don’t need to do this.”
�
��But the FBI wants me as bait—”
“Screw that. I can take you away. I can put you in a location he will never find.” For the first time, he was putting something else before job and duty. He was putting her first.
And Zander had the feeling that for the rest of his life, he would always be putting her first.
Alice shook her head. “But if he can’t find me, then he’ll hurt someone else. He’ll kill Tiffany—”
“He may already have,” Randall interrupted to say. “We don’t know what this bastard is planning. Or what he has already done.”
“If she is dead, then he’ll just take someone else. He won’t stop. Not unless I stop him.” Her hand lifted and pressed to Zander’s chest. “Either he was working with Hugh all along…or this guy—he got fixated on me because of everything that Hugh did. Either way, I’m in this. I don’t want to be in it.” Her eyes were so deep and beautiful. “I want to be normal. I want a normal life. I want…” Her words trailed away as her lashes swept down.
“Alice?”
After a tense moment, she looked back up at him. Wistfully, she said, “I want to date.” Her head cocked to the right. “I want to not be afraid to go out in public. I want to stop feeling like someone is always watching.” Her lower lip trembled. “But I guess that wasn’t just a feeling, was it? He was always watching.”
Yes, and Zander wanted to tear the bastard apart.
“I’m not asking you if I can do this.” Once again, her words were flat. “I’m telling you. I will give a statement to the media. I will speak to this killer. And then when the time comes, I’m going for the trade.” Her hand pressed right over his heart. “But I would sure feel better if you were with me. If you were at my side for the press conference. If you put the tracker on me and you followed me to the trade. Because, see, you told me…you said I could trust you, that I could count on you.”
“Fucking always.”
“Good.” The grimness of her eyes eased just a bit. “I need you.”
He wanted to scoop her into his arms. Wanted to get the hell out of there—
“Tiffany Shaw is missing. He has her. I want to get her back.” Her gaze pleaded with him. “Help me.”
Dammit. “You don’t leave my sight. Not for a minute, understand?” And he didn’t care if Randall was watching them. Zander kissed her. Hard and deep. “Because, baby, if something happens to you…” No, nothing would happen. He’d see to it. Nothing could happen to her.
Alice smiled at him. The smile did reach her eyes this time.
And the heart beneath her hands—his heart—it beat faster. Just for her.
Always, for her.
Chapter Ten
“You’re fucking her, Z.”
Zander didn’t glance away from the closed ladies’ room door. Alice was in there, and in moments, she’d come out to face the crowd. They were at the sheriff’s station, reporters were on the front steps, and it was nearly showtime. They’d planned their press conference for one p.m. It was twelve fifty-five.
“You were half-dressed, so was she, and then you kissed her…” Randall’s words trailed away. “Don’t exactly have to be a super agent to put those pieces together and get the end result.”
“I’m not fucking her.” He could feel the light weight of his holster. “I’m falling in love with her.”
“What?”
“You heard me, man. Not like I stuttered. I’m falling for Alice May, and when this shit is over, I’m going to do my best to get her to fall for me, too.” He could feel Randall’s eyes on him.
“Shit.” A quick bark of laughter came from Randall. “You’re serious. You—you are caught in that woman’s web.”
Zander turned his head, just for a moment, and locked eyes with his partner.
Shock slid onto Randall’s face. “You…you aren’t falling. You already fell, didn’t you?”
Before he could speak, there was a commotion near the entrance to the station. A tall, dark-haired man rushed inside. “Alice!” His gold gaze darted around frantically.
“Aw, damn, I recognize him,” Randall muttered.
A deputy hurried to grab the fellow. “No reporters allowed inside, buddy. You need to wait out there with the rest of them—”
“I’m not a reporter,” the man snapped back. “I’m family. Alice May’s family, and I need to see her, now.”
Zander had stiffened as recognition hit him. He knew the guy charging toward him. And, no, the fellow wasn’t Alice’s family. The guy was Jonathan Collins, and since Alice hadn’t gotten the chance to say her “I do” with Jonathan’s brother, Hugh, the man was zero relation to her.
Right at that moment, the bathroom door opened. Alice’s heels tapped over the floor as she hurried to Zander. “I’m ready,” she announced to him, “or as ready as I—Jonathan?”
Zander stepped in front of the fellow who shouldn’t have been in that station. How in the hell had he gotten past the deputies outside of the building? Probably with his BS about being family. Were the guys really that clueless that they’d let the bozo just waltz inside? Uh, yeah, probably. “You need to stop right the hell there,” Zander flatly informed Jonathan.
Jonathan Collins staggered to a stop, but his gaze darted toward Alice. “Are the stories true?” His voice had gone hoarse. “Is the Secret Admirer killing again? Is he after you?”
Randall closed in on the fellow. “Mr. Collins, I’m going to frisk you.”
Jonathan’s eyes widened. “What? Why in the hell—”
“To make sure you don’t have a weapon on you. To make sure that you are not a threat to Alice May or anyone else in this station.”
“I would never be a threat to Alice!” Jonathan’s face flushed red. “But go ahead, pat me down. I don’t have anything to hide. I’m here because I’m worried. I’m scared as all hell for Alice.”
Randall’s patdown was swift but thorough. “He’s clean.”
“Of course, I am,” Jonathan huffed. “I’m not some criminal, I’m not—”
“Your brother?” Zander supplied.
Jonathan’s chin notched up. “If the Secret Admirer is hunting again, then don’t you all see? Don’t you finally understand? You were wrong about Hugh. It was never him! That’s what I told the reporters, time and time again. My brother was set up! He didn’t—”
Alice moved to Zander’s side. Her sweet scent surrounded him. When she took a step toward Jonathan, Zander’s hand flew out and curled around her wrist. He gave a quick, negative shake of his head. There was no way he was letting her get closer to that guy. “Are you forgetting something?” Zander drawled to Jonathan. “Like, oh, I don’t know…the dead body that was in the back of your brother’s vehicle?”
The red faded from Jonathan’s cheeks. Now, he looked too pale. “I knew my brother. He wasn’t a killer. Someone framed him, the same someone I heard about on the news first thing this morning. That’s why I hauled ass to get here. The real killer is here. Unless you think a dead man is hunting Alice.”
“No.” Zander gave Jonathan a cold smile. “I know our perp is very much alive.”
Jonathan’s hands fisted and unfisted as he focused on Alice. “You should have called me. At the first sign of trouble, you should have called me. You and I—we’re family. We’re the only—”
“You’re not family,” Zander cut in flatly.
Jonathan’s brow furrowed as his gaze swung to Zander. His gaze dropped, falling to Zander’s hand as it wrapped around Alice’s wrist. The furrow deepened, and then he was studying Zander’s face. “Who are you?”
The man who will stand beside Alice for the rest of her life, if she’ll have me.
But it was Alice who answered, “He’s Special Agent Zander Todd. He’s after the man who—who has been targeting me.”
Right then, the station doors opened again. A female agent with dark red hair entered and inclined her head toward Zander. “We’re ready,” Kristy Law announced.
Show time. Zander gl
anced down at Alice. “Are you sure? You can still back out.” I can still get you the hell out of here.
But she nodded. “Just stay with me.”
Like she had to ask. “Always.”
She rewarded him with a quick smile, then her gaze slid to Jonathan. “We’ll talk after the press conference, okay? I’ll explain things, but I have to go now.”
Jonathan’s jaw clenched, but he nodded.
Zander fired a fast, hard glance at Randall. He knew his partner would get the message. Don’t take your eyes off that sonofabitch. Because Jonathan Collins being right there…oh, yeah, that looked suspicious as shit. One brother had been a sadistic killer.
Was the other brother just like him?
They were about to find out.
Zander’s hand slid down. Alice’s fingers curled around his, and together, they walked to the station doors. He could see the swarm of reporters waiting outside. A podium had been set up in front of the station. The microphone was ready. So were the cameras.
He heard Alice pull in a deep breath. And then the deputies opened the doors.
The reporters surged forward.
“Alice May—is it true that the Secret Admirer is hunting you?”
***
“What in the hell is happening?” Jonathan Collins glared at the station’s front doors. “Why is she talking to the reporters? Alice never talked to them before.”
Randall swept his gaze over the fellow. Jonathan Collins wasn’t quite as tall as his brother had been. His shoulders were a little thinner than Hugh’s. But the guy was still strong and lean. And he’d sure gotten to the little town of Sky fast. Very, very fast.
Jonathan’s head turned as he pinned Randall with an angry stare. “Is the FBI making her do this?”
Randall’s lips quirked. “No, I’ve figured out that no one can make Alice do anything. It’s all her choice.” He pointed toward the glass doors. “Alice wants to talk to the killer. She wants to speak directly to him, and this is her way.”