by Carsen Taite
“I’m not sure it does, but Warren gave interviews to several news outlets at the time of Frank Flynn’s trial. The MO in his daughter’s death was almost exactly the same as Linda Bradshaw. He was convinced Flynn killed Amy—that’s his daughter—and he was pissed Flynn was never charged in Amy’s death.”
Claire gripped the phone, convinced Nick was on to something. “You said the case went cold. They never charged anyone?”
“Nope. And Warren was real sore about it at the time. Just think how angry he might be after all these years.”
“Especially, when he sees Frank has a daughter who’s alive and well.” Claire started walking toward Jensen’s apartment, as a sour dread coursed through her. “It’s no coincidence Warren joined the Eastside Sketchers. I bet he wanted to get close to Riley.” Which is exactly what she wanted to do, as quickly as possible. “I’ll call you back.” She beat on Jensen’s door with her fist, not caring if his neighbors thought she was being obnoxious. She raised her hand to knock again, but the door opened before she could connect, and she almost fell forward at the momentum. Jensen held an arm to steady her.
“She hasn’t shown up,” he said before she could ask. “I know it’s silly of me to worry. I know she’s slightly older than those women who’ve been murdered, but I figured it was better to tell you and let you decide if I’m overreacting. I honestly didn’t expect you to come down here.”
Claire wanted to strangle him by the time he paused, and she blurted out her question before he could say more. “Who else knows you were meeting her today?”
Jensen looked confused at the question. “No one. I mean, no one I know of.” He tapped his chin. “Wait a minute. Warren was sketching right next to us when we made our plans, but—”
Claire’s insides turned to ice at the sound of Warren’s name and she cut Jensen off. “Have you sketched at the boat slip before?”
“Yes, a couple of times. Riley likes this little spot by the old filter building.” He fished his phone out of this pocket and started thumbing through photos. “I’ve got a picture of the view from there.”
She tossed him a card, already on the move. “Cell number’s on the back. Text it to me. Now. Tell Nick that’s where I went.”
“I can come with you.”
“No. Call Nick.” Claire dashed to her car and sped out of the parking lot and onto Garland Road, resisting the urge to pull out her lights and siren. One of two things was happening. Either Riley was sketching a sunset on the side of the lake or Warren Spencer was exacting some kind of twisted revenge. She knew in her gut it was the latter, and her best chance of stopping him would be the element of surprise. She turned right on the road on the other side of the spillway and navigated her way toward the boat slip, parking well back from the lake to walk the rest of the way to the filter building and checking to make sure her gun was loaded before she stepped out of the car and started walking toward the water.
Her phone buzzed and she slipped behind a tree. She turned the sound off and pulled up Jensen’s text with the photo of the view he’d promised. She could see why Riley preferred this particular spot, it was tucked away from the walking and biking trails, yet it provided a full panorama of the sun’s colors kissing the lake. She drew closer, treading softly, praying she’d find Riley sitting by the water, sketching the beautiful view and wishing she’d taken the time today to tell her she couldn’t stop thinking about her, not in the context of a case, but about how Riley made her feel like a different person. Like a whole person who was allowed to want a life beyond the badge, and a lover to share it with. But not just any lover. Claire wanted Riley with her special way of seeing so much beauty in a world in which she often saw only ugliness. Riley, the tender lover, who stirred feelings in her she thought she’d never have.
Bruce could take his promotion and shove it if she could just find Riley safe and sound.
* * *
Riley woke to the sound of water lapping against the shore. She was sitting on the grass, her back to the water, with her hands bound behind her and her feet tied at the ankles. Her throat was tight and sore, her head hurt, and she was nauseous, but all of that seemed trivial in comparison to the gun pointed at her face.
“You’re awake,” Warren said. “Good.”
She tried to speak, to ask him what was going on, but a croak was all that came out. He shook the gun. “Don’t bother. There’s nothing you have to say that I want to hear. I hear enough of it from your pals Jensen and Buster. ‘Riley is such a great teacher. Riley has her own art show.’” He scowled. “You have no idea how lucky you are to be alive.”
Once again, she tried to talk, desperate to ask what was going on, but even more desperate to cry for help. She concentrated on blurting out a one-word question, settling on “What?” It sounded more like “ut,” but he seemed to understand.
“My Amy was robbed of the ability to live her life to the fullest and you’re about to find out what that’s like. I only regret that your father isn’t here to see me take from him what he took from me.”
Riley wondered if he’d hit her in the head, because nothing he said made any sense, but he didn’t seem to care if she understood. He started circling her, looking at her from different angles as if she were a model he was about to sketch. On his third pass, her haze gave way to realization. She didn’t know why, but she knew he’d stolen her drawings and left them on the bodies of the women he’d killed. Panic pulsed through her and she forced herself to breathe slowly. She had to think clearly, or she would be his fourth victim. Any minute, he might snap, and her life would be over—no good-byes to her friends, no gallery debut, no Claire. Her story couldn’t end like this, especially not when she’d just discovered what it was like to let another person in. The scary roller coaster of emotions that came from being vulnerable enough to experience falling in love. Falling in love—words she never thought she’d say about herself, but now that she’d allowed the feeling to surface, she knew that’s what was happening with Claire, and that’s why everything Claire did affected her so deeply.
She saw Warren backing up farther and holding up his hands as if to frame her in his sight. No, her story couldn’t end like this. She had to fight for her life, for the chance to love and be loved. For Claire.
“Warren Spencer, put the gun down.”
Claire. Riley snapped her head to the right searching for a sign of her in the brush. When she caught Warren watching her, she shifted to the left to try to throw him off. It didn’t work. He trained his weapon in the direction where Claire’s voice had sounded.
“Go away or I’ll kill her.”
“I have a feeling you’re going to try and kill her anyway, so I think I’ll stay right here.”
Riley smiled. She hadn’t expected Claire to be deterred by a madman, but she was determined to help. She wrestled against the rope that held her in place.
“Stop that,” Warren shouted as he closed the distance between them. “You’re messing up the scene.” He whirled around, pointing the gun at her, at the trees, and back at her. “Stop moving.”
He was too close to her now. She needed to get him to move farther away. She cleared her throat and struggled to speak. “Okay, but I need something to lean on.” She nodded toward a thick tree branch lying several feet away. “Put that behind my back.”
He laughed. “Right.” He bent down and yanked the rope binding her wrists. Out of the corner of her eye, Riley could make out a shadow moving through the trees and prayed it was Claire coming toward them, but she’d have to act right now to give Claire a clean shot. Warren’s hand was still on the rope and she jerked her hands out of his grasp and simultaneously pushed up from the ground, launching her body backward and toppling him over with a loud thud.
He clawed at her back, trying to shove her away, but she kept up the awkward assault, digging in her heels and pushing back against him, determined to keep him off his feet. She felt him scramble for purchase and she heard a metal click and r
emembered his gun. Claire should show up to save her any second, but quicker than that she might be dead for reasons she still didn’t understand. Her life couldn’t end like this, full of unspoken truths. She needed more time. Time to heal her relationship with her father. Time to tell Claire she loved her. Propelled by a combination of fury and desire, she summoned every ounce of strength she could muster and hurled her body into Warren’s again. She saw the gun fly through the air at the same time she heard Claire’s voice shouting her name. When she looked up, Claire was standing over Warren who lay sprawled on the ground, her gun pointed at his chest.
“Riley, are you okay? Can you move farther away from him?”
She answered with a grunt and rolled away, keeping Claire and Warren in her sight.
“Claire, are you okay?”
Riley turned her head for a second, long enough to see Nick running toward them. She watched him take Claire’s place, and a second later, Claire dropped to her side and started working to free her. She forced the words to come. “You came,” she whispered.
“Of course, I did,” Claire said, tugging at the rope that held her hands. When they were free, she pressed them gently to her face. “I was scared I’d be too late.”
“It’s okay.”
“No. There are things I want to say. Important things.” Claire glanced over at Warren, and Riley followed her gaze. Nick still had him at gunpoint, but she understood they needed to get him secured so they would all be safe.
“Go. Tell me later.” Claire started to get up, but Riley motioned for her to come close. When Claire’s ear was next to her mouth, she whispered the one thing she wanted Claire to know no matter what happened with Warren or her father or her own future. “Love you.”
Claire leaned back so Riley could see her face. She wore a broad smile and tears gathered in the corner of her eyes. “Love you, too.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Three weeks later
Riley stood in the center of the gallery, completely overwhelmed at the sight of her work covering the walls. Every aspect of the installation showcased the city exactly the way she saw it, and she hoped whoever came tonight would feel immersed in the glory of the sights most Dallasites took for granted.
“Are you excited?”
Riley reached out and clasped Claire’s hand. “Yes. And a little scared. What if no one comes?”
“I bet every artist is scared no one will show up to their debut, but Lacy’s done a bunch of these and she’s got enough wine and snacks in the back for half the city. I have a feeling you’re going to be surprised.” Claire motioned behind her. “See, Cheryl and Nick are here. I’ll have to warn Lacy to put out more food.”
“Very funny, Ms. Squad Commander,” Nick said. “I guess now that you’ve been promoted, my hunger is no longer your problem. Well, Cheryl’s already picked out a couple of pieces she intends to take home, so I think I’ve earned my snacks tonight.”
“Don’t listen to her,” Riley said. She started to ask Cheryl which pieces she had her eye on, when a familiar voice spoke first.
“Are we early?”
Riley turned to face her father. He was standing with her mother a couple of feet away, his expression tentative, and she motioned for them to join her and Claire. She’d made a concerted effort to reconnect with her father since his exoneration and Warren’s arrest, and during the time they’d spent together, she gained a new respect for what he’d gone through during his time in prison and his decision to use some of the restitution he’d received to fund a paid intern for the local office of the Innocence Project. Riley liked the idea of having a father again even if they were still navigating what exactly that meant for the two of them. He was still a bit cautious around Claire, but she’d made it clear to both her parents, Claire was one of the good cops and she was in her life to stay.
If it wasn’t for Claire, she might be dead right now, and she shuddered when she thought about how close Warren Spencer had been to taking her life. She’d been stunned to learn the sweet, older gentleman who she’d thought had shared her love of art was really a bitter, angry victim who’d spent years dwelling on taking revenge against her father who he was certain had killed his daughter. He was so fixated he still refused to accept the recent DNA results that proved Milo Shaw was the real killer, but Claire assured her he’d have plenty of time to come to terms with the truth while he was in prison.
“No, you’re right on time,” Riley said to her father. She pointed across the room at Lacy who was headed toward them.
“Are you ready?” Lacy asked.
Riley nodded at the loaded question and watched Lacy walk to the door and begin welcoming the guests. Mixed in with the flood of strangers were a few dear, familiar faces: Buster and Natalie, Jensen with a cute guy on his arm who she was sure he’d introduce to her later, and Morgan and Parker. From her work on the walls to the friends who’d gathered to support her art to the wonderful woman on her arm, her life was full. She leaned in close to Claire and whispered, “I’m ready for anything with you by my side.”
Claire looked lovingly into her eyes. “And that’s exactly where I’m going to stay. For the rest of my life.”
THE END
About the Author
Carsen Taite’s goal as an author is to spin tales with plot lines as interesting as the cases she encountered in her career as a criminal defense lawyer. She is the award-winning author of over twenty novels of romance and romantic intrigue, including the Luca Bennett Bounty Hunter series, the Lone Star Law series, and the Legal Affairs romances.
Books Available from Bold Strokes Books
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Drawn by Carsen Taite. Will the clues lead Detective Claire Hanlon to the killer terrorizing Dallas, or will she merely lose her heart to person of interest, urban artist Riley Flynn? (978-1-63555-644-5)
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The Last Days of Autumn by Donna K. Ford. Autumn and Caroline question the fairness of life, the cruelty of loss, and what it means to love as they navigate the complicated minefield of relationships, grief, and life-altering illness. (978-1-63555-672-8)
Three Alarm Response by Erin Dutton. In the midst of tragedy, can these first responders find love and healing? Three stories of courage, bravery, and passion. (978-1-63555-592-9)
Veterinary Partner by Nancy Wheelton. Callie and Lauren are determined to keep their hearts safe but find that taking a chance on love is the safest option of all. (978-1-63555-666-7)
Everyday People by Louis Barr. When film star Diana Danning hires private eye Clint Steele to find her son, Clint turns to his former West Point barracks mate, and ex-buddy with benefits, Mars Hauser to lend his cyber espionage and digital black ops skills to the case. (978-1-63555-698-8)
Forging a Desire Line by Mary P. Burns. When Charley’s ex-wife, Tricia, is diagnosed with inoperable cancer, the private duty nurse Tricia hires turns out to be the handsome and aloof Joanna, who ignites something inside Charley she isn’t ready to face. (978-1-63555-665-0)
Love on the Night Shift by Radclyffe. Between ruling the night shift in the ER at the Rivers and raising her teenage daughter, Blaise Richilieu has all the drama she needs in her life, until a dashing young attending appears on the scene and relentlessly pursues her. (978-1-63555-668-1)
Olivia’s Awakening by Ronica Black. When the daring and dangerously gorgeous Eve Monroe is hired to get Olivia Savage into shape, a fierce passion ignites, causing both to question everything they’ve ever known about love. (978-1-63555-613-1)
The Duchess and the Dreamer by Jenny Frame. Clementine Fitzroy has lost her faith and love of life. Can dreamer Evan Fox make her believe in life and dream again? (978-1-63555-601-8)
The Road Home by Erin Zak. Hollywood actress Gwendolyn Carter is about to discover that losing someone you love sometimes means gaining someone to fall for. (978-1-63555-633-9)
Waiting for You by Elle Spencer. When passionate past-life lovers meet again in the present day, one remembers it vividly and the other isn’t so sure. (978-1-63555-635-3)
While My Heart Beats by Erin McKenzie. Can a love born amidst the horrors of the Great War survive? (978-1-63555-589-9)
Face the Music by Ali Vali. Sweet music is the last thing that happens when Nashville music producer Mason Liner, and daughter of country royalty Victoria Roddy are thrown together in an effort to save country star Sophie Roddy’s career. (978-1-63555-532-5)