Paranormal Heartbreakers Boxed Set

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Paranormal Heartbreakers Boxed Set Page 51

by Jeanne Rose

A bit embarrassed that she’d gotten so carried away in the throes of passion, Adriana thought she’d rather be discreet than give Jennifer reason to make comment. To that end, she drew her hair forward, brushing it neatly over her shoulders, so that it hid the evidence of her and Val’s intensity.

  Thoughts of Val and their night together trailing after her, Adriana left the bedroom, blinking against the sudden intrusion of lights that had been turned on throughout the apartment. Her eyes felt raw. But, rather than coming down with something, she was probably just exhausted.

  When she hit the kitchen, Jennifer was using the remote control to turn on the television mounted below the cabinets, undoubtedly to catch the morning stock averages.

  Her sister gave her a shocked expression and instantly muted the sound. “You’re up after getting home so late?”

  “How late?” Adriana asked casually, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

  “You don’t even know what time you got home?”

  “Maybe I just want to know if you were waiting up for me, Mom,” she said in a teasing tone, though her not remembering bugged her.

  But Jennifer wasn’t offering any answers. “Oh, dear, I do sound like Mom, don’t I?”

  “Sometimes. But that’s okay.”

  Adriana kissed her sister on the cheek and threw herself in the chair opposite, stealing a piece of toast. As usual, Jennifer had risen, showered, dressed and made herself breakfast – all before dawn. She would be leaving for work as the sun rose over Lake Michigan, often the time Adriana returned home if she went out after work.

  Jennifer used the remote to turn up the sound on the television. Adriana noticed the woman newscaster’s serious expression.

  “Just in. Another violent death mars Chicago’s streets, this time at the Fleetways bus station just west of the Loop.”

  Adriana was startled. Bus station?

  “How cheerful,” Jennifer muttered.

  “The body was found at four-thirty, approximately one hour after the murder.”

  Jennifer went for the remote as if to change channels. Pulse jolting, Adriana put her hand over her sister’s, stopping her. “I want to hear this.”

  “The victim was a young woman, whom the police suspect to be a minor, though no identification was found with the body.”

  Wanting to deny what she was thinking, Adriana felt sick inside.

  “She was blond, blue-eyed and wearing short shorts and a spangled jacket.”

  She felt as if someone had punched her in the stomach. It couldn’t be . . . she prayed she was wrong as the newscast ran live footage of the body bag being hoisted into the ambulance.

  “A piece of jewelry was found near the girl’s body. The chain was broken, assumably in the struggle. Still attached to the chain was a cross engraved with a dove.”

  Adriana was mesmerized by the shot of an evidence technician wearing gloves dropping an etched cross into a Ziploc bag. In her mind, she saw Lilly fiddling with that same cross. No I.D., no photo, but in her heart, she knew Lilly was dead.

  “The police fear a serial killer is on the loose. As it was from the first victim only days ago, the girl’s blood was completely drained from her body–”

  ”Omigod!” Jennifer whispered. “Just like your friend, Eddie.”

  Tasting the bile rising to rip at her throat, Adriana pushed herself from the table, muttering, “Excuse me.”

  “Hey, are you all right?” Jennifer called after her.

  Adriana didn’t answer but flew to her room and the toilet where she threw up.

  Afterward, she lay back against the tile wall, her head spinning, sick with guilt. She had no doubts that Lilly was the second victim. And if she and Val hadn’t talked the girl into going home, and therefore being at the bus station – the wrong place at the wrong time – Lilly would still be alive.

  A knock at the bathroom door startled her. “Adriana?”

  She bolted away from the door and toward the bathtub. “I’m fine, Jens. I was just upset.”

  She was still upset, didn’t know if she would ever feel okay again.

  “You want to talk about it?”

  Talk about her and Val being amongst the last people to see the girl alive?

  Like Eddie?

  “No. I’m going to take a shower. That’ll make me feel better.” She turned on the water. “You go ahead to work.”

  “If you’re sure.”

  “Positive.”

  But no shower would ever make her feel better after sending a kid off to her death.

  Weird. Two identical murders and she and Val had been among the last to see each of those victims alive. Them and the murderer.

  What if . . . ?

  She pictured Val, having given Eddie a hundred dollar bill, Lilly the same. There was no connection, she told herself. There wasn’t. It was a coincidence.

  If only she could remember exactly what happened the night before.

  If only she hadn’t had that wine.

  If only . . .

  All the if onlys in the world wouldn’t bring Lilly back.

  Adriana was not only sick with guilt . . . but with suspicion. The similarities in the two cases were too great to be mere coincidence. So what did that mean? It couldn’t be Val, she told herself. After they’d sent Lilly on her way, they’d been together.

  Until when? What time had he brought her home? Hard as she tried, she couldn’t remember.

  What if Val had left her here before three-thirty . . . the reported time of the girl’s death?

  “THE VISITOR NO ONE invited to the party. The stalker in the alley with unblinking eyes . . . who waits patiently through a lifetime. But in the end, always pounces.

  “A stranger who follows us down city streets, hiding in doorways, slinking into shadows. In fear, we glance behind us, always trying to stay one step ahead.

  “But we do not really wish to see. We do not hear.

  “We do not believe.

  “Inescapable. Unrelenting. An escort for the journey on a subway train hurtling toward destiny. We arrive at an unknown station too soon.

  “We argue. We fight. We lose.

  “Death . . .

  “A fierce figure in the underground parking lot waiting by the door. It opens.

  “To darkness?

  “The next world?

  “Either. Both. Have no fear. Night possesses its own eternal beauty.

  “Even darkness lives.”

  Heaving a sigh, Adriana finished her monologue, a eulogy to honor both Eddie and Lilly. Her audience stood gathered in respectful silence even after the first strains of a classical rock version of Amazing Grace filled the club.

  She left her post, her mind still in turmoil. Wondering if Val would show tonight.

  Distracted, she didn’t see him until she nearly ran smack into him. He gripped her arms tight. Her heart pounded. Her nerves shattered. In one instant, she wanted to introduce him to Death and see where it would take him.

  “Hiya, babe. Some monologue.”

  “Get your hands off me before I call a bouncer,” she said coldly.

  Stone Drake gave her the slow, crooked smile that she knew only too well. “At your service.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “YOU’RE WORKING HERE?” Adriana didn’t know whether to be more shocked or outraged. “Since when?”

  “Frank Nieman hired me this afternoon.” Stone assumed his lady-killer pose – the hooded dark eyes, the slouch, the lazy grin. “He needed somebody with confidence and muscle.”

  Adriana wondered how she’d ever found him appealing. Stone might be attractive, but now that she knew his true nature, she realized his manner was studied, a little coarse. He was a con man, a charming sociopath with little if any conscience.

  She said bitterly, “Yeah, you have muscles all right and no compunction about using them on people weaker than yourself.”

  “Aw, come on, babe.” He leaned toward her, his smile tightening when she scowled. “You make it sound lik
e I’m some woman-beater. I never laid a hand on you or any other female.”

  “You don’t have to use physical force to abuse a relationship.”

  “I never meant you any real harm. Let’s let bygones be bygones.”

  “Bygones, bull, I’m going to talk to Frank.”

  “You want him to know I left you handcuffed to a bed?”

  That stopped her cold. The reason why she hadn’t told anyone but Jennifer about the incident. She’d been too embarrassed. What she’d assumed was a little creative love play had been Stone’s way of keeping her from stopping him when he’d left with her things.

  Nevertheless, she threatened, “I don’t care what I have to admit to. I’m going to see that you’re fired.”

  “Hey, Adriana, come on.” He straightened and, to his credit, actually appeared contrite. “Look, I’m sorry. I needed the money . . . real bad. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have touched your things. I was in trouble.”

  “It’s too late for apologies. And you’re always in trouble.” Though it had taken her a while to realize why – he worked only sporadically and what he made he invested in crazy schemes or gambled away. “You’re a selfish pig if you think you can get away with stealing my equipment and all my savings. Not to mention that you left me helpless and vulnerable. I could have starved to death.”

  “But you didn’t, did you? You’re a real capable woman.” The way he said it made her think he admired her. She softened just a tad until he added, “I knew you’d find a way to free yourself.”

  Only by taking the bed apart and dragging the headboard with her to a phone. “I want you out of here.” She looked around. “Where’s Frank?”

  Stone tried to slide an arm about her shoulders, frowning when she shook him off. “Adriana, please, I need this gig. If I can keep it, I’ll be able to return your mixes. You won’t have to pay for them.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  Ignoring her sarcasm, he said, “I know I’ve made some bad mistakes. But I’m gonna try to make up for them. I’ll even promise to repay the money.” Again, he attempted to reach out to her, but she slapped him away. “Hell, think about how good we were together. I only wish you could find it in your heart to take me back. I love you . . . I always have.”

  Unbelievable. But she’d believed it once.

  About to say that no way on God’s earth would she be so stupid a second time, she sighted Val suddenly emerging from the surrounding crowd. His dark glasses tucked in his jacket pocket, he turned the full blaze of his penetrating eyes on her.

  She froze, caught her breath, a shiver of fear running up and down her spine.

  ADRIANA TRULY APPEARED to be frightened. Even as he felt a twinge – he’d seen far too much terror in his life – Val couldn’t help assuming an accusatory stance. How dare another man profess devotion to his woman?

  He approached, knowing he had to keep his hands off the encroacher. He addressed Adriana, “And who is this?”

  “Uh . . . Valentin Kadar meet Stone Drake.”

  An ordinary wretch with a relatively good-looking face but a furtive gleam in his eyes.

  Val didn’t return Drake’s smile. “The thief? The scoundrel who was so unkind to you, Adriana? I cannot say that this is a pleasure.”

  The other man’s smile faded and he quickly turned away. “Guess you have been bad-mouthing me, haven’t you?”

  “I wouldn’t call the truth bad-mouthing,” she said.

  “Would you like me to take this man outside? I can make him return what he stole from you.”

  His expression wary, Drake nevertheless puffed out his chest. “Hey, man, I’m the bouncer here.”

  While Adriana’s eyes widened with apprehension. “Please.” She made a placating gesture. “Don’t hurt him, Val. I want my mixes back – but violence isn’t necessary. And Stone actually does work here . . . at least for the moment.”

  Val’s anger flared, along with a couple of bright flashes that erupted amid the throng near the dance floor. He scowled as Irina Murphy rushed away, a small camera in her hand.

  “You protect this ingrate. Why? Do you still want him?”

  Drake balled his fists. “Nobody has to protect me.”

  “Stop this right now.” Adriana stepped between the antagonists, pushed at Drake. “Mind your business, Stone. Go find some other customer to hassle.”

  Drake looked petulant. “Who is this guy anyway? Your new boyfriend?”

  “Uh . . . something like that.” She pushed at Drake again. “So go away.”

  Stone Drake obviously had good survival instincts. Giving Val one last glance, he turned and stalked off.

  Adriana’s gaze was steady on him. “He’s a con man and a thief but he doesn’t deserve to die.”

  “Die?” What was she talking about? “I had no intention of killing anyone.” Though Val would have enjoyed threatening Drake, perhaps even roughing him up a bit. But the distance he sensed in Adriana herself was his major worry. She wasn’t herself. “What’s wrong?”

  “Wrong?”

  She blinked as bright pinpoints of light flashed in the dimness again, this time near the entrance to the bar. The little gypsy was taking more photographs. Val gave Irina a filthy glance even as she scooted out of arm’s length.

  Adriana was the woman he wished to reach for. He placed a hand on her shoulder and felt her flesh shudder slightly. “You are distraught. You should be seeking comfort from me.”

  “I wish I could find comfort.”

  He supposed he could attempt to mesmerize her with his gaze, overwhelm her with the power of his persona, but he chose not to try. He wanted Adriana Thorn’s true heart and soul. “Again, I ask you what is wrong.”

  “I have a lot of things on my mind.”

  “Like Stone Drake?” That was all that could have come between them since last they were together. “Would you really choose him over me?”

  She made a face. “Of course not.” But again she paused. “I-I just need a little time.”

  “Time for what? Did you not feel the yearning, the power of our desire last night?” He himself had never experienced such with any other woman.

  “Everything’s been happening so fast. My emotions are on overload.”

  Though there was something more, something she wasn’t

  saying . . .

  When yet another camera flash hurt his sensitive eyes, Val was ready to explode. He growled and turned in Irina’s direction.

  This time, the little redhead approached defiantly, hiding the camera behind her but standing her ground. “There’s someone looking for you, Mr. Valentin Kadar. A police detective. I told him to wait in the bar.”

  “Police?” Adriana echoed faintly.

  Irina’s expression softened as she regarded her friend. “I’m afraid he wants to talk to you, too, Adriana.” Her eyes slid in Val’s direction. “Probably about the company you keep.”

  The police? Val knew he could slip away if he wanted to, could easily drift into the darkness outside. But he couldn’t leave Adriana in such a questionable situation.

  Even if she was acting like she hoped he’d disappear.

  ADRIANA FELT SHAKY as she and Val faced Carmine Panchella for the second time. She was certain she already knew what the detective wanted to talk about. In the face of that, all concerns over Stone’s sudden appearance blew away with the cool draft of air that seemed to be wafting through the dance club.

  “Is there some place around here where we can have a few words?” Panchella asked, directing the question to Adriana. “Gotta key to a private room?”

  “I suppose we can use Frank’s office,” she said. “The manager. Let me ask him.”

  Frank was amenable to the idea, if curious. But Adriana told him it was a very personal matter. Taking the key, she led Panchella and Val up a flight of stairs and down a dim corridor to the suite on the building’s mostly unused second floor.

  Frank liked black leather and metal Euro-style furniture combined w
ith extremely modern art.

  Panchella took a seat in a chair that resembled an industrial insect about to take flight. Turning up a spindly halogen lamp a couple of notches, Adriana sat behind Frank’s shiny black desk while Val eased himself down onto a leather lounger.

  Panchella inspected the paintings on the walls, savage splashes of neon colors. “Well, at least there should be enough light in here, even without the lamp.” He took out the same ratty notebook he’d used before. “But let’s get down to it. There’s been another murder . . . and another anonymous phone call.” He glanced at Val, not attempting to make extended eye contact. “Where were you last night, Mr. Kadar?”

  Val frowned. “Another murder?” He seemed genuinely surprised before saying, “I attended the funeral service for Eddie Szewicki last evening. Then I went home.”

  Adriana nearly started. Why wasn’t he mentioning the photo shoot? Walking around Uptown with her? And what about the time they’d spent with Lilly?

  She decided to ask the question she most dreaded. “Who was killed, Detective?”

  “A young hooker. Blonde, a runaway from some little berg in Wisconsin.”

  A young blonde from Wisconsin. Adriana tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Lilly.

  “You know anything about it? Her body turned up near the bus station downtown.”

  Adriana gazed at Val, who stared back at her, hard, as he spoke up, “Adriana was with me last night.”

  Panchella scribbled in the notebook. “Ms. Thorn was with you? All night? At your house?”

  “That’s right.”

  Panchella raised his brows.

  But Adriana was only concerned that Val had withheld information. His mesmerizing glare meant he wanted her to go along. Why? Was he really a murderer, just as she’d feared?

  Panchella heaved a sigh. “So you were at the house in Uptown, huh? This phone caller sure has some kinda imagination, let me tell you. He swore he saw the two of you eating at some dive with this girl.”

  Again, Adriana nearly started. They’d been spied upon. Anxiety over that warred with her initial discomfort at Val’s lie. She deliberately refused to look at him. If she wanted to speak, he wasn’t going to stop her. But before she could open her mouth, he once again took the lead.

 

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