“Well, I can promise you that I don’t intend to go into my office alone again until this is all over.” She wrapped her fingers around her mug and brought it to her lips. He couldn’t help but notice that her hands trembled slightly.
“I’m sorry you’re frightened,” he said.
She lowered her cup and offered him a small smile. “Thanks. I’ll be fine. This isn’t the first time in my life I’ve been afraid. True fear is being eight years old and hiding under a porch. Real terror is knowing that if your father finds you it might be the time he finally beats you to death.”
Jacob stared at her in stunned surprise. “Your father was abusive?”
She set her cup on the table and her eyes were dark with memories he could only guess were terrible. “My father was a brutal bastard. The only good thing he did for me was die. Surprisingly, he had a very big life insurance policy on himself and left me as beneficiary. And you probably think I’m terrible for saying that.”
“I don’t think you’re terrible at all.” He’d sensed that there was more to Layla West than her chattiness and superficial values. He realized now there had been clues about her father, he just hadn’t picked up on them. “You never tried to get help from anyone?”
Again she smiled, a small gesture that didn’t quite lighten the darkness of her eyes. “For a long time I just assumed everyone’s dad was mean. By the time I knew that something was wrong I was too scared of him to tell anyone. The day I turned eighteen I left his house and got myself an apartment. Between then and the time of his death we didn’t have a relationship at all.”
“It was his loss,” Jacob replied.
This time her eyes lit up. “Thanks. Anyway, I figure I survived him. I can survive this.” There was a hint of steely strength in her voice. “And that’s why I like shoes,” she added.
Jacob frowned in confusion. “What do shoes have to do with all this?” Sometimes the way her mind worked fascinated him.
“Shoes are my rebellion against the man who raised me. Every year at Christmas he bought me a pair of shoes, the ugliest sturdy brown shoes you’d ever want to see. I hated those damned shoes. Kid at school made fun of them. I decided when I got old enough to buy my own, I’d make sure they were pretty, sexy high heels and I’d have a different pair for every day of the year.”
“You don’t owe me any explanation for what you buy,” he protested.
“I know, but I suspect you think I’m kind of shallow and I just wanted you to know that there is a method to my madness. I paid my penance for future sins by enduring my father and now I just want to live life to its fullest. By the way, I think you’ve more than done your penance for a sin you didn’t even commit.” She leaned forward, her eyes ablaze with emotion. “Just catch this man, Jacob, and in the process give yourself permission to live again.”
He wanted her now, with her eyes so bright and the sweet words of redemption on her lips. He wanted to carry her into the bedroom and take her until they were both left gasping and spent.
But he knew he wasn’t going to do that. He had nothing to give her except his momentary passion, his quick-fire desire, and it didn’t seem fair to offer her that and nothing else.
“Why aren’t you married, Layla?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “I’m just not the marrying kind,” she replied.
“So, you have no desire to have a family?”
“On the contrary, I definitely want kids,” she replied. “I figure by the time I’m thirty-five if I haven’t found a man who’d be a good father, then I’ll just get artificially inseminated and have my baby. I don’t need a man in my life to be a good mother.”
He wondered how deep the scars were from her childhood with her father. Was his brutality why she wasn’t the marrying kind, why she didn’t think a father was important in the life of a child?
“There are men out there who would make great fathers,” he said.
“I suppose. And on that note, I think maybe it’s time for me to try to get some sleep.” She stood and carried her cup to the sink.
“Yeah, I need to do the same,” he agreed. He closed the case files and stacked them, then got up and took his cup to the sink. He turned to tell her good-night and found her standing far too close to him.
The flowery, feminine scent of her filled the air and the desire he’d tamped down only moments before roared to life once again.
“Then I guess I’ll just say good night,” she said. She licked her lower lip and Jacob knew in that instant that he was going to kiss her.
She must have sensed it as well, for she made no move to back away from him or go to her bedroom. Instead she leaned forward at the same time he took a small step to close the short distance between them.
The instant his mouth touched hers, he knew he was in trouble. Hot and greedy, her lips instantly yielded to his, opening enough to allow him to deepen the kiss.
At the same time her arms went up to his shoulders and he found himself gathering her close, the slick material of the silk robe warming as his hands splayed across her slender back.
The kiss spiraled out of control quickly. He tangled his hands in her soft, scented hair as their tongues swirled in a fevered dance.
Her robe gaped open as she pressed even closer to him, so close he could feel the fullness of her breasts against him, felt the hard pebbles of her erect nipples through the thin material of her nightgown.
She was fire and vibrant energy in his arms and he wanted to take whatever she offered, whatever he needed from her. He wanted to take until she had no more left to give and then he’d take some more.
For the first time in over six months he felt wonderfully alive, his mind emptied of all thought except his want of the woman he held in his arms.
He moved his mouth from her lips to her jaw, then down the length of her neck, his heart pounding rapidly in his veins. She dropped her head back, allowing him access to the column of her throat, and as she released a small moan, his desire torched hotter, brighter.
There was no thought of what he couldn’t give her, no thought of how wrong this moment was for both of them. There was only her heat, her fire that warmed him in places that had been cold for a very long time.
“Jacob,” she whispered, his name a fevered plea for more and more.
And he wanted more. God help him but he wanted all of her. He released his hold on her and stepped back, giving them both a moment to draw in deep breaths, to ground them in reality.
She obviously didn’t want reality. She held out her hand to him, her eyes speaking of her own desire, and he knew he was going to take her into her bedroom and stay with her until their desire was sated.
The bedroom was dark when they entered and she dropped his hand only long enough to turn on the bedside lamp. It created a soft pool of illumination that loved the hues of her skin.
She shrugged off her robe and his gaze was drawn to the flush of her cheeks, then the fullness of her breasts beneath the animal print gown.
He’d been numbed by his pain, by his very solitude for some time. But he didn’t feel numb at the moment. Rich and raw desire filled him as he advanced toward her.
“No promises,” he said, his voice sounding deeper than usual.
“None needed,” she replied easily. “Just give me tonight with you, Jacob. I won’t ask you for anything more.”
That was all he needed to hear, the acknowledgment that she expected nothing from him except this night and his passion. He took her back into his arms.
At that moment his cell phone rang.
The musical ring sliced through the sexual tension as confusion washed over him. Who would be calling him at midnight?
The confusion swiftly gave way to a fear that instantly washed all his desire away. He dropped his arms from around Layla and stared at her as the phone rang again.
“Don’t answer,” Layla said urgently as he dug his cell phone out of his pocket. “Please, Jacob. Just don’t answer it.” It was as if she knew wh
o might be on the other end of the line.
He stared down at the number on his caller identification, not recognizing the digits that were displayed. He opened the phone and placed it against his ear, but said nothing.
“Hello Agent Grayson. I’ve missed you. Are you ready to play?”
The deep, familiar voice cast Jacob back into the darkness and it was only the touch of Layla’s hand that kept him from drowning in it.
Chapter 8
“I couldn’t hear anything in the background of the call that might point to a location,” Jacob said to his brothers, who were all squeezed around the cabin’s small kitchen table. Outside the day was as dismal and gray as the mood among the men.
“We’ve gone over this a dozen times already,” he said impatiently. “I didn’t recognize his voice, it was distorted as it’s always been. All he said was that he’s looking forward to playing the game with me, that Jennifer Hightower cries all the time and Suzy Bakersfield appears to be in a mild state of shock. And Brittany said to tell me hello.”
As the men continued their discussion Layla silently refilled their coffee cups. She’d gotten up early that morning and fixed Jacob breakfast. He’d said he wasn’t hungry, but she’d insisted he eat, knowing that it was going to be a long day.
The night before had seemed endless. After the phone call, Jacob had insisted she go to bed, and sensing he wanted time alone, she’d complied. She’d found sleep impossible and knew he’d suffered the same fate as she’d heard him wandering around the cabin until nearly dawn.
She hadn’t been sure if it was the phone call or the fact that they’d almost made love that had kept sleep at bay for her. The contact with the killer had been disturbing, but so had the intimate contact with Jacob.
Jacob moved her as no other man in her life had ever done before.
She would have fallen into bed with him last night if the phone call hadn’t interrupted them. And he would have taken her to bed. He’d kissed her with raw desire. There had been no mistaking what he wanted from her.
And she’d wanted him like she’d never wanted before. She would have willingly capitulated to her own wants, her own needs, if that horrifying call hadn’t happened.
She tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and tried not to dwell on the thoughts of what might have been, but they kept intruding into her brain.
She knew better than to chase what she couldn’t have, and Jacob was in that category. Oh, she might get his passion, enjoy his lust, but she knew there would never be anything deeper, more lasting.
Sometimes she felt as if her father had cursed her just to be spiteful. He’d made a deal with the devil to keep her from finding real love.
Jacob looked both tired and slightly dangerous in his black turtleneck and jeans and wearing his shoulder holster. He’d had the gun on when she’d gotten up that morning, the result of the contact with the killer and a reminder that danger could come at any time.
She finished pouring their coffee and then resumed her stance in the corner, her gaze lingering on Jacob. The lack of sleep the night before showed in tired lines that bracketed his mouth, in the faint shadows beneath his eyes.
What she’d like to do was pull him into her bed, force him to sleep without dreams and sleep wonderfully well-embraced in his arms. She closed her eyes and for a moment imagined herself there, in the safety and security of his strong arms.
“Okay. So we didn’t get anything from the phone call. I’ve got a couple of the men searching all the abandoned buildings here in town,” Tom said as Layla tried to focus less on Jacob and more on the conversation. “And when we’re finished in town we’ll spread out and begin checking buildings around the area.”
“That’s going to be a huge job,” Benjamin ob served.
“I agree,” Tom replied. “I’ve called up all the volunteer deputies to come in and help with the search and the men from the fire department have also offered to step in and do whatever they can to help.”
“This is a good town,” Benjamin added. “People will step up to stop this lunatic.”
“Caleb came up with a list of people who have moved to Black Rock in the last six months or so,” Tom continued and looked at his youngest brother.
“There’s only been a couple of people,” Caleb said as he pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. “Jerry Tipton is thirty-two and moved here four months ago. He’s divorced and works as a traveling salesman for some grocery company. Then we have Greg Todd. He’s twenty-nine and moved here a couple of months ago and works as a nurse at the hospital. Finally, there’s the Norwood family. Larry, his wife and their two daughters moved here about seven months ago.”
“I investigated Larry Norwood when Lilly was kidnapped,” Tom replied. “He doesn’t exactly fit our profile in that he appears happily married and obviously has a love for animals, since he’s a veterinarian.”
“The profile is sometimes wrong,” Jacob replied. “We can’t overlook anyone.”
There was no way Layla would believe that Larry Norwood could be The Professional. He was caring for her cat, for goodness’ sake.
“We’ll do full background checks on these people,” Tom said. “At least it’s a place to start.”
“I’d like to talk to all of them,” Jacob said. “If one of them is The Professional I might not recognize the voice but I could pick up something in their speech patterns that would identify him.”
“I’ll arrange interviews with all of them in my office,” Tom said.
“As a nurse it’s possible that Greg Todd would have access to the kind of drug we found,” Benjamin said.
“Anyone can access any drugs on the internet these days,” Jacob reminded them.
“A traveling salesman would have opportunity,” Caleb added.
“We’ll check them out,” Tom said. “Once they’re cleared with alibis or whatever, we’ll move to long time residents of Black Rock that might be responsible.”
“Like Buck Harmon?” Layla asked.
Tom leaned back in his chair and smiled at her. “Buck is a pain in my ass, there’s no question. He drinks too much and when he drinks he gets stupid, but I’d bet my badge he isn’t a killer.”
“Buck Harmon isn’t organized enough to find his way home on a Saturday night,” Benjamin said wryly.
“I just thought of something,” Layla said, suddenly remembering the phone message she’d received in her office. “When I was at my office I listened to my messages and there was one from a man. He said his name was Michael Fields and that he was planning on making Black Rock his home. He’s staying at the motel and he wanted me to take him out to look at properties.”
“Did you contact him while you were there?” Tom asked.
She shook her head. “I wrote down his phone number but I didn’t call him back. He’s staying in unit seven at the motel. Maybe it’s him. Maybe he’s The Professional.”
She frowned as she thought of what might have happened if she’d taken him out. Would she have shown him an empty house where he could have overwhelmed her and carried her off?
“We’ll definitely check it out,” Tom replied.
“Maybe it’s him, but I’m inclined to think not,” Jacob replied. “As far as we could tell in the other cases, he never contacted his victims.”
“And there’s no evidence that he did so in these current cases,” Benjamin added.
“But somebody here in town is a killer,” Layla replied. “And he wants me.”
“He doesn’t like to lose,” Jacob said. “And you’ve thwarted his efforts twice now.” His gaze held hers for a long moment and in his eyes she thought she saw a hint of softness. “Is there someplace else you can go?” he asked. “Family or friends or somebody you can stay with until this mess is all over?”
She shook her head. “I don’t have any family and all my friends are right here in Black Rock.” She raised her chin defensively. “Besides, he’s got me staying here in this cabin where no hint of Chr
istmas exists, he’s got my cat boarded at the vet’s office and me staying away from my office. He’s taken enough from me already. I’m not leaving town.”
She was suddenly aware of Tom staring at her, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “I’m not sure I want you to leave town,” he said slowly. “Maybe it’s a good idea for you to be seen in town, to let him know that you’re still here and aren’t afraid. Maybe it will push him to do something stupid.”
“Whatever I can do to help, I’ll do,” Layla replied, ignoring the flutter of fear that winged in her stomach.
“Or it will push him to do something terrible,” Jacob said darkly.
Layla wanted to place her hand on his shoulder as she saw the shadows that had crept back into his eyes. She knew he was remembering when he’d thought he’d been the one who had pushed the killer too far and death had resulted.
“He’s going to do something terrible whether we push him or not,” Tom replied. “And we’ll do whatever is necessary to keep Layla protected.”
As the men continued to discuss their plans to further the investigation, she remained in her place in the corner, listening to the conversation that eased none of her fears.
It was almost noon when Layla and Jacob were alone again. Jacob was quiet, but it wasn’t the morose kind of silence she’d endured the first night and day with him. It felt like a focused silence, as if his head was filled with plans and thoughts that brooked no discussion.
“No more fires,” he said when she started to place a log into the fireplace.
She looked at him in surprise. “Why not?”
“We don’t want to send up any more smoke signals that will let anybody know that we’re here.”
His words sent a new sense of disquiet through her as she placed the log back in the wooden box by the fireplace. “Does this mean we’ll freeze to death?”
He cast her a tired smile. “No, it just means I need to turn up the thermostat on the furnace.” He sank into his recliner with a deep sigh.
“Portia is pregnant,” Layla said, suddenly remembering her friend’s good news from the day before. She had no idea what made her think of it but suspected it was her mind subconsciously working to stay positive.
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