And that asshole was willing to throw her to the wolves for a tidbit of information. Or maybe he just trusted her capabilities and Alex was being an overprotective jerk? But if he’d wanted to kill Mallory he could have done so a thousand times over—FBI training or no FBI training—and even the idea made him want to puke.
The killer playing this game with Mallory and her family was dangerous. But he didn’t know the truth about Alex and that was her secret weapon—she just didn’t know it.
“You think the PR Killer is the same person who killed that couple last night, don’t you?” he asked.
She darted a glance at him. “The MO’s different...but yes. I do.”
“You think he’s local?”
She swallowed and then nodded. He did too. If not local, then at least living here for the time being.
They turned down a small road, headlights cutting through an avenue overhung by majestic elms. The landscape felt stark, everything battening down the hatches for a long hard winter. He glanced at Mallory’s profile rimmed in icy green from the dashboard lights.
If he was the killer he’d have put an electronic monitor on her car so he’d know exactly where she was without her knowing it—assuming he hadn’t already seduced her in a bar and planted bugs in her apartment. He rolled his eyes. Asshole.
Alex had checked the car earlier and there was no tracker device. That could change at any time, which is why he was always checking and double-checking everything constantly. A guy like him couldn’t be too careful and neither could Mallory. Lack of a tracking device didn’t make him relax his guard. Just meant the bad guy either wasn’t as smart as he thought he was, or hadn’t had access to her vehicle yet, or had figured out another way to reel her in. Like a double homicide or the funeral of a local girl.
His brain was firing in all directions.
It was black as coal as they traveled this lonely lane. Who knew this forest wilderness existed just a few hours outside DC? No streetlights. No neighbors. No moon. No stars. Plenty of unsolved crimes...
Whoa.
Mallory pulled up along the circular drive at the front of a huge house.
“This is where you grew up?” He whistled. It was impressive as hell.
They both eyed the red-brick three-story mansion lit up a fiery orange by the headlights.
“It is a little over the top for a family of four,” she admitted.
“It’s bigger than the White House. Fuck, Mallory, you could fit the ranch house where I grew up in that thing about sixty times over.”
“Eastborne’s been in the family for over two hundred years.”
“You come from some serious old money.” It was a hell of a motive for kidnapping. So why had they never received a ransom demand? He unclipped his seatbelt.
“I earn FBI wages nowadays so you don’t need to be intimidated Mr. I-own-my-own-security-firm.” She rolled her eyes and made him laugh. Her irreverence was another of her plus points. She didn’t have a lot of use for status and he liked that about her. “It was actually a lot of fun growing up here before Payton was taken. Great place for a game of hide-n-seek when we had friends over to play.”
You could be lost for months in a place this size. He didn’t say it. It didn’t seem appropriate given what had happened to Mallory’s sister.
She didn’t need to tell him that the fun had stopped when her sister had gone missing. It was implied by the sadness in her voice. “Lucas Randall lived nearby?”
“His parents kept a summer house about five miles west and we hung out a lot.”
There were no lights on inside the mansion. The whole place had an abandoned feel to it despite the well-manicured lawns and fresh paint.
“Your dad lives in Webster?”
“Yeah, he has a nice little house about five minutes from where he works.” She sat contemplating the house as if it were a living entity. “He grew up here and still comes up some weekends but...” She pulled a face. “It’s just so massive with such a sad association. He wants us all to get together one last time for Christmas, even Mom—they’re still friends—but after that he’s selling up. He’s been talking about it for years, but I think he means it this time. He says it’s time for the house to find a new family.” She crossed her arms tight across her chest and he wanted to pull her to him but there was no room in the damn car. Tears shimmered but didn’t fall. “He’s right. Payton loved this house. She wouldn’t have wanted it to stand empty.”
He took her hand. She had lovely smooth hands with long fingers and short fingernails that felt good on his skin. “Parents who’ve lost children often don’t want to move from the family home. They worry the child will find his/her way back and they won’t be there when they come home.”
She nodded. “I guess after eighteen years Dad finally figured out Payton wasn’t coming home.”
People did get rescued after long bouts in captivity but it was rare. “Do you think he’s wrong?”
She shook her head. “She’s gone. She’s not coming back.” She spoke with such certainty that he looked at her intently but didn’t comment. Whatever her reasons, Mallory didn’t want to talk about it.
“Let’s get inside. It’s freezing out here.” She pushed open the car door, her face pale in the overhead light. Staying here tonight wasn’t going to be easy.
He never left home without a go-bag and obviously neither did FBI agents. Alex took their two overnight bags out of the trunk, along with both laptops. She climbed the steps to the front door and inserted a key. “The housekeeper went to visit her sister for Thanksgiving and isn’t back yet.”
Alex had forgotten it was heading toward Christmas. Usually he spent the holidays working. “She lives here alone?”
Mallory nodded. There was a beep and she dashed over to an alarm panel and punched in some numbers. “I hope she didn’t change the code because this sucker goes straight to the cop shop.”
It was a good system but one he could bypass in ten seconds with the right equipment. At least there was some security here because the old-fashioned sash windows and multiple entrances were a security fucking nightmare. The alarm stopped beeping.
The air smelled of clean pine needles with the faint tinge of cloves and old wood smoke. She flicked a switch and a massive black and white marble-tiled entranceway with a huge wraparound staircase was illuminated by the sort of chandelier that wouldn’t have looked out of place in Buckingham palace.
He held up his hand to shade his eyes. “I think I’ve gone blind.”
“Funny.”
She closed the door and flicked the deadbolt and reset the alarm. Alex looked around. There were antiques and marble statues. Who had life-size statues inside their home?
Mallory grabbed his hand. “Leave the bags at the bottom of the stairs. I’m starving. Mrs. Buxton, the housekeeper, usually stocks the freezer with soups and casseroles, especially this time of year and...” Her voice trailed off as she caught sight of something sparkling in a nearby sitting room. She dropped his hand and went to stare at a twenty-foot Christmas tree. The room was dark but there was enough light coming from the foyer to see a gracious room decorated for the festive season complete with a Martha Stewart worthy tree.
It made his heart clench. He hadn’t experienced this sort of Christmas since his mom died and theirs had been on a much more modest scale. The pain of that loss was still a physical ache in his chest.
Mallory reached out and touched one of the baubles. It was a misshaped crystal star. “Payton made this in school.” As if unable to stop herself she slipped it off the branch and kissed it, before putting it back on the tree, her touch lingering. “I still miss her.” Her voice cracked.
He put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed. He could relate. He still missed his mother and his grandfather and his friends. But he knew they were dead and never coming back. You had to move on. “We’re supposed to miss them. That’s their gift.”
Huge amber eyes met his. “Pain is a gift?�
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He nodded. “It proves they meant something to us. That even years after losing them we still feel them. Here.” He touched a hand to his heart feeling foolish. He didn’t go in for mushy crap and he was straying dangerously close. But she needed this. She needed comfort.
There was one sort of comfort he was good at so he pulled her flush against him, watched a gasp transform her face just a split second before he kissed her. His mouth coaxed her lips open, aching for a taste. Her tongue hit his in a wet slide and instantly he was hard. Jesus H Christ, what is it about this woman?
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeper, harder as if she wanted to climb inside him. Maybe sex was better therapy than any shrink could offer. Heat rose up with a wave of lust. His control snapped and all thoughts were gone except one. To get inside her as fast as possible. He yanked her blouse out of her pants, backed her against the wall, undoing the button and zipper on her slacks. He needed her, now. He slid his hand under her shirt and pushed her bra out of the way as he cupped her breasts. Her holster got in the way but it was also a turn on. Her head went back on a groan. Her skin was velvet warm. Nipples tight and beaded. His mouth chased a quiver down the line of her throat to her shoulder and he nipped her just hard enough to make her fingernails tighten on his flesh. He liked that. Liked it a lot. One-handed he shoved her pants down and undid his own as she kicked hers off. He fumbled in his pocket for a condom, taking back control of her mouth. His heart thumped as his blood raced through his veins. There was no time for foreplay. No time for finesse. He covered himself and lifted her, spreading her thighs around his hips as she guided him straight to her center. She wanted this as much as he did.
With one hard thrust he was buried deep in her heat.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, nails bit into his flesh. “Harder.”
He drove into her, again and again, nothing but an animal who needed to satisfy a primal urge.
“Oh, God,” she groaned and twisted on top of him and he held on tight, trying to lock her in place as she came undone. Muscles clutched at him. He pinned her arms over her head, reveling in the pressure that was building and building and building. Heat and pleasure lashed and she was with him all the way. She cried out and he followed her over that edge like a buffalo on a stampede as his head exploded. Pleasure obliterated everything except this act, this need to take and brand and make her his.
He pried his eyes open. Became slowly aware. Wondering what the fuck was wrong with him when a serial killer was after Mallory. He wasn’t fucking Superman and getting caught with his pants around his ankles was a pretty fucking stupid way to die. Asshole. His heartbeat slowed. Their breathing quieted and silence roared. He leaned his forehead against hers. “I’m pretty sure I should apologize for that.”
“I’ll slap you if you do.”
“You make me lose control.” His words caught and tumbled.
She touched his face and stared into his eyes. “Control is overrated and you just made something right with my world.” She grinned, those tilted eyes of hers sparkling. “Now put me down, lover, and let’s get some food. I’m starving.”
***
“Is this giving you the creeps?” She stood in her old bedroom looking at the same duvet covers and blue painted walls they’d had when Payton was alive. Pictures she and her sister had done at school were tacked to the wall, curled at the edges. “It’s giving me the creeps.” She shuddered.
They’d unearthed frozen pizza and ignored the wine collection and opted instead for soda. Neither wanted to be impaired by alcohol because this guy could turn up to try and kill both her and Alex. She was glad they’d had fast furious sex when they’d first arrived. It had taken the edge off her ramped up tension and no way would they be spending the night tearing up the sheets. They’d take turns keeping watch. It was the perfect opportunity to catch this guy. They were both armed. She definitely felt dangerous.
“Your parents never changed the room?”
Mallory shook her head. “Mama wouldn’t let anyone touch a thing. Bought me a new wardrobe and replaced every toy I said I wanted. Parental guilt and the need to honor the dead. It was a messy combination.” She propped her hands on her hips. It felt weird being back here. The room smelled musty and airless. “I moved to a bedroom two down from where they slept after that.”
“In another wing of the house?”
“Yeah.”
“Any idea why you kids were camped out so far away?”
“My mother liked her peace and quiet. I was neither peaceful nor quiet.” More guilt. She dropped to her knees and crawled under the bed.
“Something I should know?” Alex quizzed. “A portal to Narnia, perhaps?”
She choked on dust bunnies. Nothing else remained. Not her pillow or her flashlight. Alex squatted down to peer at her curiously.
“When Frazer hypnotized me I remembered I used to sleep under the bed a lot because I was scared of monsters. I saw the kidnapper’s feet. Green converse trainers.”
“Frazer said being back here might help trigger some memory recall?” Alex asked dubiously.
“Yes.” She sneezed.
“Bless you.”
She laughed. Then closed her eyes, but she was too aware of this man who’d totally invaded her life and made her feel so safe she was willing—no, eager—to take on Payton’s abductor.
“Male, female? Young or old?” asked Alex softly.
She closed her eyes and visualized that night long ago. She practiced the deep breathing techniques Frazer had shown her. Felt her heartbeat calm. “Male youth.”
“What about scent. Can you smell anything?”
She went to shake her head and stopped. “Rain. It smelled like rain...”
“It rained the night she was abducted?”
“Yes. It did.” She frowned. A window or a door must have been left open nearby. There was something else just teasing the edges of her mind. “He said something.” The memories were indistinct, like trying to hear underwater. “I think he said not to worry. ‘We’re not going to hurt you’.”
“We?”
“We.” She opened her eyes and scrambled from the tiny space that had seemed so comforting as a child. Now it was dusty and claustrophobic. She brushed herself off. Alex stood back.
“So there was more than one of them?”
“I only saw one guy but that’s what he said.” She rubbed her eyes. “I think. Maybe. Perhaps.”
Alex was watching her closely. “Come on. You need sleep.”
“Shower first.”
He smiled sadly. “As much as I’d like to join you, I’ll keep watch.” Because a monster might come for her. Might come for them both. His eyes hardened as he read her thoughts. “I won’t let him get you, Mallory.”
A shiver skipped up her spine and she couldn’t speak. Payton’s abductor was out there, waiting for her. She could feel him. But she wanted him to come. She had no intention of letting him get away.
***
He trudged through the woods with the girl’s naked body over his shoulder. He’d planned to make Kari pay long and hard over the next few days but having Mallory stay at the big house with just that prick of a boyfriend was too tempting. The bruises on Kari’s face were testament that he’d made up for lack of time with some serious dedication to the task.
She hung limply, dark hair falling almost to the back of his knees, her skin as white as milk and cold to the touch. He slapped her bare buttocks. The power of having a human being at his mercy was addictive. It hadn’t been like that with Payton. He’d loved her. But these bitches? They were like animals. Worthless. Meat. They meant nothing to him.
He stumbled slightly. He was worried no one would ever mean anything to him again. That was why he had to keep looking until he found the perfect replacement.
He skirted the edge of the woods where he remembered watching Payton and her sister play all those years ago. His uncle had planned to kidnap both girls and ransom
them off. The parents could afford it. He’d lied about his intent to hurt them though. Hell, he should have known the bastard would rape Payton as soon as he’d got her at his mercy. The old man had done the same to him before he’d been old enough to stand up for himself.
It had been a stupid idea and he’d gone along with it because back then he’d been dumber than a rock. His uncle had slapped him when he’d come out with just one girl and sent him back to find Mallory. But she hadn’t been in bed and he sure as hell wasn’t searching every room in that giant house for a second girl when they already had one.
While he’d been pretending to go back to get Mallory, his uncle... He swallowed and sweat broke out across his shoulders at the memories. He’d gone back to the chamber horrified to see Payton lying there all bloody and broken and his uncle wiping a sly satisfied grin off his face.
He’d let the bastard think he’d got away with it. He’d had to wait six long months before he got his revenge and the wait had almost driven him out of his mind. But finally, in the spring, he’d managed to pin the rat-bastard underneath the tractor and he could still hear the sounds of his pig-like squeals as he’d been very, very slowly crushed to death. The memory filled him with a sense of righteous satisfaction.
The cops had said it was an accident. His first kill. And the most gratifying.
After that he’d taken care of Payton’s every need and he hadn’t touched her until she’d been much older and they’d been in love. If he could have released her he would have, but her mind was fragile and she’d been terrified of everything except him. No way could she have lied about how much she loved him. And the world wouldn’t have understood. They’d have been separated and he’d have gone to jail.
He shifted Kari’s weight. Hell, she was heavier than she looked. He approached the house from the eastern side. No lights were on and a thick mist hugged the ground, clinging to frosty stems of grass. He wore a bulletproof vest, gloves and a ski mask and he had a pistol strapped to his ankle. He went to the door of the mudroom and used the key he’d stolen years ago to open it. He entered the alarm code—the housekeeper was pretty liberal with security and half the town knew the code. Hell, the judge had given him a spare key for the front door but he had no intention of using that today. Dead giveaway. Standing in the darkness he listened intently to the silence. The house was vast, and the idea anyone heard the alarm beeping was unlikely. Still he waited.
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