The Man from Gossamer Ridge

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The Man from Gossamer Ridge Page 10

by Paula Graves


  Gabe fished in his pocket for his wallet and handed Cissy a pair of twenties. “Do they have a good Reuben?”

  Cissy grinned, color seeping back into her face. “The best. Alicia, do you want your regular turkey on wheat?”

  Alicia grimaced. “I’m really not hungry.”

  Gabe’s warm hand closed over her shoulder. “You haven’t eaten in hours.”

  “I know, but—”

  “Food is fuel,” Gabe said firmly. Cissy chuckled softly and he shot her a quick grin.

  “Inside joke?” Alicia asked.

  “Just something Granddad says all the time,” Cissy explained with a smile.

  “This is the Marine Corps sniper?” Alicia asked, remembering what Gabe had told her earlier.

  “That’s the one.” Gabe dropped his hand away from her shoulder. “If you’re not up for a sandwich, at least get some soup or something.”

  “They have great chicken corn chowder,” Cissy reminded her. “And the Tuscan tomato is yummy.”

  Being double-teamed by a pair of Coopers proved to be impossible to resist. Alicia had to wonder what it would be like to cross swords with the entire Cooper clan. No wonder they’d been able to fight off a deadly drug cartel. “Okay, I’ll take a bowl of the chowder,” she relented.

  Both Coopers grinned back at her, lightening her own mood considerably. She was starting to feel hungry by the time Gabe let Cissy out and locked the door behind her.

  “Look, I know this is a big imposition,” Gabe started.

  “You’re protecting me. For free.” She waved her hand toward the sofa, suggesting they sit. “I don’t know how to thank you, really.”

  “We could start by letting me take a look at your files.”

  He was relentless; she had to give him that. “Fine. But wait until after dinner. Those files can ruin your appetite.”

  His smile faded. “I know.”

  Of course he would. He’d stumbled onto two of the crime scenes while they were still fresh. Smelled the blood, seen the carnage, felt the half-warmth of a body slowly assuming room temperature. No photograph could replicate that experience.

  “You know what? Let’s just think about something else for a little while.” Gabe scanned the apartment. “Do you have a deck of cards?”

  She furrowed her brow, trying to follow his swift change of subject. “Yeah, somewhere around here.”

  “Great!” He grinned up at her. “Find them and I’ll teach you a fun new game.”

  She wasn’t sure she trusted the wicked look in his eyes, but she was up for anything that would take her mind off the threat hanging over her head. She headed in search of cards.

  “It’s called Popsmack and it’s very easy to play.” Gabe dealt the deck of cards evenly between them.

  “Popsmack?”

  He grinned. “Long story. It’s something my brother Jake and I made up on a rainy afternoon when the folks wouldn’t let us out on the water. Because of the lightning.”

  “Yeah, I could see where being on the water during a lightning storm might not be wise.”

  He shot her a quick look, grinning. “Chicken.”

  “Is Jake older or younger?”

  “Older. By ten minutes. And he never lets me forget it.”

  “Oh, twins. Identical or fraternal?”

  “Fraternal, although we look enough alike that people who don’t know us well get us mixed up.”

  She couldn’t imagine mistaking anyone for Gabe Cooper. “Do you have that twin vibe thing people talk about?”

  “I’m not sure I believe in that stuff, but I do seem to know when something’s not right with Jake. And vice versa.” Gabe dealt the last card and sat back. “Okay, here’s how the game works. We lay out one card at a time. The person with the high card gets to ask the person with the low card any question he wants. And the loser has to answer truthfully.”

  She saw danger written all over this game. But a different kind of danger than lurked outside her small apartment. A kind of danger that was so tempting, she could feel her blood singing at the prospect.

  “Ready?” He asked.

  She nodded, a nervous bubble rising in her throat.

  He laid out a card. Jack of spades. Her heart gave a little dip, then began to race as she laid a six of clubs on the table between them. She looked up at him, waiting for his question with a mixture of dread and anticipation.

  He met her gaze, silent for a long moment. His eyes glittered with wicked delight, as if he was contemplating just how naughty a question he could ask. By the time he finally spoke, her whole body was vibrating with tension.

  “Why criminal psychology?”

  She gave a small start of surprise, nearly overbalancing on her ottoman perch. She clutched the cushion to steady herself and wondered how to answer his unexpectedly serious question without baring parts of her soul she’d never shared with anyone.

  She decided to go with part of the truth. “Rebellion.”

  “Against your parents? Or your brother?”

  “I thought it was just one question per deal.”

  He smiled. “Fair enough.” He laid down another card. Three of hearts.

  She smiled back as she laid down a ten of clubs. “Have you ever been in love?”

  “Right to the money question, huh? You women are so predictable.”

  “Trying to avoid the question?”

  “No.” He sighed, running his finger around the edge of the card he’d dealt. “I thought I was in love in high school. Mary Beth Traylor. Cutest majorette on the team. Really good with her hands.”

  Alicia groaned at the innuendo.

  “No, seriously,” Gabe said, although the gleam in his eyes was anything but sincere. “She was a runner-up in the Miss Alabama pageant about ten years ago. Twirled a mean baton.”

  “So why didn’t you marry Miss Almost Alabama?”

  “She met a plastic surgeon who was mad about her. How could a country boy who spent his day catching fish compete with something like that?”

  “You dumped her?”

  “Entirely too high maintenance. I’d have gone broke from the hair spray bill alone.”

  Grinning, she laid down another card. “Oh, look. A queen.”

  He flipped over a card and grinned. “Oh, look. A king.”

  She eyed him suspiciously, not liking the way he was looking at her. “I’m not sure you don’t have this deck stacked in your favor.”

  “Cheating at Popsmack is a hanging offense. I would never besmirch the honor of the game that way.” He toyed with the card in front of him, a thoughtful look on his face. Finally, his gaze whipped up to meet hers, surprisingly serious. “Rebellion against whom?”

  A sex question would have been less painful to answer, she thought, nudging her inadequate queen of diamonds toward the middle of the coffee table. “Both my parents and my brother, I guess. I was determined not to be like any of them.”

  She could see him itching to ask a follow-up question, but she thwarted him by setting her stack of cards on the table and getting up, walking over to look out the window. Night was falling fast, making her wonder if she and Gabe had made a mistake by sending Cissy off for food with dusk so close.

  “I wonder what’s taking Cissy so long?”

  “It’s been only ten minutes.” Gabe’s voice was so close she jumped. Turning, she found him standing right behind her, so close that her arm brushed against his hard-muscled abdomen when she turned.

  He didn’t move away and the expression on his face suggested he had no intention of doing so. His eyes had turned a smoky blue that reminded her of the color of San Francisco Bay when a storm was brewing in the Pacific.

  His head bent closer. “I’m going to kiss you now. If you want me to stop, say so now.”

  Her throat seemed to close, rebelling against the warning signals blaring from her brain.

  She didn’t want him to stop.

  Gabe dipped his head lower, his lips brushing hers. The touch
was light and undemanding. A taste, as if offering a sample to see if she wanted more. And she did.

  Sliding her fingers into the crisp, dark hair at the back of his head, she drew him down to her, lips parting in invitation. Then his lips claimed hers and the world spun out of control.

  HIS REAL NAME WASN’T KARL Avalon, but he’d gone by that moniker over the last few years when he was in hunting mode. Alex had given him the name, after a dog he’d had as a boy—and tortured to death. Alex had found the idea amusing and Karl had gone along because there was usually no upside to crossing Alex.

  He’d never made Victor change his name, as far as Karl knew. He didn’t know what that meant.

  He didn’t know a lot about Alex, really. Karl had found his partner by way of Victor, who’d let a few clues slip during their discussions at the Southern Mississippi Correctional Institution, where Victor had been doing three to five on a vehicular manslaughter charge.

  He’d found Alex in the middle of a murder and helped him clean up the mess, winning his chance at taking Victor’s place. It had been a satisfying partnership, for the most part.

  He was finding his role as point man a bit tedious.

  Across the street, now that dusk had fallen, the lights inside Alicia Solano’s apartment gave off warm, golden light. She and the man he now knew was Gabe Cooper had entered a little while earlier, along with Alicia’s student, Cissy. Cissy had left with a couple of her roommates a few minutes later. Alicia was alone with Cooper.

  It hadn’t taken long for word about the visitor to spread in the small, insular town of Millbridge. It turned out that Cooper was a minor celebrity among fishing enthusiasts, having won a couple of big money bass tournaments a few years back. Of course, Karl knew about Gabe Cooper by name already.

  His brother Jake had come close to ruining everything only a month earlier, thanks to Victor Logan’s foolish incompetence.

  But Karl had taken care of things. Victor was dead. Any evidence that might have linked Victor to Alex had perished when Victor’s house burned to the ground.

  Unlike Victor, Karl knew how to get things done.

  Victor’s emotions had gotten in his way. His obsession with Mariah Cooper had cost him everything. Karl knew better than to let his own emotions get in the way.

  His interest in Alicia Solano wasn’t emotional. It certainly wasn’t love, that desperate construct of a human mind so weak it had to seek ephemeral connections to keep from imploding into madness.

  Powerful people didn’t need connections. They needed only the resources that thrived within themselves. He’d learned that lesson long before he met Alex and recognized a fellow traveler.

  He didn’t depend on Alex for anything. Their partnership was a mutual arrangement that suited their individual needs, or it had done so thus far. As he’d noted before, he was getting tired of being left out of the kills.

  That’s why he’d chosen Alicia as his own personal side project.

  Movement in her apartment window drew his gaze. He saw her silhouette darken the square of light. The curtains were closed, but he saw one move aside, and though she was backlit too much for him to make out her features, he imagined her there, filling in the blanks from memory.

  Suddenly a second silhouette loomed behind her. He saw her turn and then the two shapes blended into one.

  A strange sensation crawled through his chest as he realized what was happening.

  He looked away, sickened.

  ALICIA’S MOUTH WAS SOFT. Fiery hot and sweet as sin. He had joked before about Mary Beth Traylor’s talented hands, but the majorette had nothing on Alicia, whose nimble fingers were doing all sorts of crazy good things to the muscles of his back. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he dragged her closer, until her firm breasts pressed hard against his chest and her hips cradled the growing hardness beneath the zipper of his jeans.

  She dragged her mouth away from his, her breath escaping in short, sharp gasps. “Cissy’s coming back, you know.”

  He nipped at the curve of her earlobe with his teeth. “I know. But she doesn’t have a key.”

  “So we just keep making out while your niece bangs on the door?” She clutched his shoulders suddenly, sagging a little as his lips left her ear behind and moved down the side of her neck. He tightened his grip on her, keeping her upright.

  For the moment, anyway.

  She pushed against his shoulders. “Gabe, we can’t do this. You know we can’t.”

  He knew no such thing, but he wasn’t the kind of guy to push himself on a woman who was saying no, even when her lush, hot body was screaming yes against his. Gathering his self-control, he let her go and she stumbled back, catching herself against the wall by the window.

  She was still breathing hard, her hair tousled by his hands and her cheeks and neck bright pink from his kisses. Her coal-dark eyes met his, liquid and full of need. It took every bit of strength Gabe had not to close the distance between them and pick up where he left off.

  “We need to set some ground rules—” she began. But a knock on the door interrupted.

  With a low groan of frustration, Gabe crossed to the door and checked the security lens. It was Cissy, holding two large white bags.

  “Cissy,” he muttered, glancing at Alicia. She straightened her clothes and pushed her hair back from her face, shooting a desperate look his direction.

  “Go sit on the sofa,” he murmured. She did as he suggested. He waited until she’d settled down and composed herself—and his own body was back in check—before he released the lock and let his niece inside.

  “We didn’t discuss dessert,” Cissy said, carrying the bags to the kitchen counter, “but they had a fresh Mississippi mud cake, and I couldn’t resist getting a couple of pieces.”

  Alicia crossed to the sink and washed her hands, taking the opportunity to pat her pink cheeks with cool water. “You’re an enabler for my chocolate addiction, Cissy. Maybe you should sit in on the class I teach about codependency.”

  Gabe felt his body cooling enough that he could safely cross to the counter, close enough to touch Alicia, and remain under control. But it took a little effort to keep his mind off the way her ripe, curvy body had felt against his, soft and hard in all the right places.

  Cissy had been right; the food from Brandywine Deli was as delicious as advertised. His Reuben was as good as any he’d ever tasted. Alicia poured them all glasses of cold, sweet tea and they capped the meal with the Mississippi mud cake, the rich, decadent combination of earthy chocolate icing and gooey marshmallow enough to satisfy any sweet tooth.

  As she licked the last bit of chocolate from her spoon, Cissy’s gaze wandered to the coffee table in front of the sofa. She shot Gabe a grin. “You were playing Popsmack?”

  “Gabe thought it would get our mind off things,” Alicia murmured, her dark-eyed gaze sliding up to meet Gabe’s.

  “Oh, Alicia, you might as well have stuck your head in a lion’s mouth,” Cissy admonished with a grin. “Uncle Gabe and Uncle Jake invented the game to torment each other. They use it for evil, believe me.”

  Alicia looked at him again, her eyes smoldering.

  “I was good,” Gabe lied, dragging his attention back to his niece. In between getting hot and bothered by Alicia, he’d also had a few moments to think about the possible dangers to his niece from the serial killer. She didn’t fit the profile, exactly; she was curvy and dark-haired, yes, but also green-eyed, not brown-eyed, and only nineteen, a good six or seven years younger than the other victims.

  Still, if their theory about the beta killer was right, he was already going off script in sending messages to Alicia. He was unpredictable, which made him doubly dangerous.

  “Cissy, when’s your final exam this semester?” he asked.

  His niece gave him an odd look. “Tomorrow.”

  “Good. I want you to be packed and ready to go back to Gossamer Ridge by the time it’s over.”

  Cissy frowned at him. “I can’t. You know
that. I’m working that internship at the police department this summer. It’s all planned.”

  “It can be unplanned,” he said firmly. “This town is too dangerous right now.”

  “I don’t fit the profile.”

  “Maybe not for the alpha killer, but we think the beta is the one behind the messages to Alicia. Think about it—the victim profile is part of the alpha killer’s signature, right?”

  Cissy’s expression darkened. “Yeah, but—”

  “No buts. The beta may have a completely different motivation for his actions.”

  “Gabe’s right,” Alicia agreed. “The beta’s made things personal by contacting me. That suggests a different signature. He’s not following the alpha’s playbook.”

  “He might hurt you to punish Alicia,” Gabe added.

  “I don’t want to run away just because things are a little dangerous,” Cissy insisted. “You know I want to work in law enforcement. What kind of cop would I be if I cut and run at the first sign of danger?”

  “A live one,” Gabe said.

  “No.” Cissy shook her head. “I’m careful. I’ll make sure I don’t go anywhere alone. I have a license to carry a concealed weapon, so I’ll start doing that, at least when I’m off campus.”

  “Cissy—”

  “I’m not a child. Not anymore.”

  Gabe stared at his niece, frustration burning in the center of his chest. He understood her need to stand her ground, admired her for it, even, but just the thought of something happening to her was enough to make his blood run cold.

  “Why don’t we table this discussion until after her last exam tomorrow?” Alicia suggested quickly. “I think we’ve all had enough stress today.”

  Gabe squelched the urge to argue further, rising from the table to expend the tension roiling inside him like a building storm. He gathered up the detritus of their take-out meal and deposited it in the trash can in the kitchen, pausing at the window over the sink when movement outside caught his eye.

  He stepped closer, pushing the curtain back further. There it was again. Movement in the shadows across the street. He made out a dark human form weaving in and out of the graceful draping branches of the willow trees lining the undeveloped no-man’s-land on the other side of the street.

 

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