Edge of Midnight

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Edge of Midnight Page 32

by Leslie Tentler


  “They don’t know yet.”

  Mia tried not to think about it. Instead, she looked at Eric as he rubbed a hand over his bleary eyes. She understood his intense emotion. Levi’s death represented the close of three arduous years in his life. She couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to come face-to-face with the man who had tortured and murdered his wife, the woman he’d loved. To be forced to sit helplessly by as he came close to killing her, as well. Mia’s fingers grazed his forearm. She suspected from his bloodied clothing he had never been too far away from her. He obviously hadn’t taken the time to change.

  “Have you been here this whole time?”

  “I was debriefed in one of the hospital conference rooms.” He appeared tired, and she noticed the small lines etched around his eyes. “Agent Vartran is handling statements to the media.”

  “Eric, it’s your case. If you need to go…”

  “I’m staying here. I’m not leaving you.” Pausing, he bent his head again, struggling with something he needed to say. “When I realized Levi was inside the house with you, I was so afraid you were already dead.”

  Then he’d known from the beginning. He hadn’t been surprised upon entering. He’d come inside for her, knowing full well what awaited him and that he was as likely to die at Levi’s hands as she was.

  “I couldn’t lose you like that…” Shaking his head, he swallowed hard. “I couldn’t lose another woman I loved the same way.”

  Mia felt her eyes mist.

  “But I almost did…lose you,” he said haltingly. “I couldn’t stop him from hurting you.”

  “I’m here. I’m going to be okay.”

  He laid his head on her stomach, asking again for her forgiveness. Mia stroked his hair as he fell silently apart.

  The night was warm, the dark waters of Matanzas Bay stretching out as far as Eric could see. He stood on the deck with Cameron at his house in St. Augustine.

  “They seem to be hitting it off,” Cameron remarked. It was after dinner, and Lanie and Mia were visible through the window, the two women talking in the kitchen. Mia had been released from the hospital four days earlier. She sipped from a coffee mug, her cheekbone marred by a bruise and her left hand still heavily bandaged.

  “How’s she doing, by the way?”

  Eric continued watching her. “She puts up a good front, but we both know she’s been through hell and back. I’ve asked her to see a counselor dealing with post-traumatic stress.”

  He’d brought up the topic on more than one occasion, actually. Both times, Mia had jokingly told him her sessions with Dr. Wilhelm had filled her psychiatry quota, thank you very much. But the nightmare she’d had the previous evening worried him. He’d been there to hold her, and he wasn’t sure how well she would cope once he was gone.

  “You’re in love with her?” Cameron asked.

  Eric leaned against the deck railing. He thought of Rebecca. Levi’s death had allowed him to finally gain closure, some justice for her. He gave a small nod of acknowledgment. “We’re taking it slow.”

  Cameron sipped his beer, seeming to process the information.

  “For what it’s worth, I would’ve done the same thing.” He looked at his wife. “If Lanie had been inside with that psychopath, I’d have walked through fire to save her. When’s your flight out tomorrow?”

  “Seven o’clock.” After closing down the case Eric had remained in town, taking vacation time to be with Mia. She’d been fragile after leaving the hospital and with Will and Justin still in Chicago, also alone. Eric had moved into her apartment. They’d slept late, lounged poolside and made love as if they would never see one another again. Danger had a way of heightening passions, but Eric had discovered his feelings for Mia remained the same even in the calm after the storm.

  “Long-distance relationships are tough,” Cameron pointed out.

  “I’ll come down for a weekend and she’ll come up there. We’re going to try it that way for a while.” Eric turned and peered out over the water again. “She understands my job, Cam. Why I have to do what I do.”

  “I appreciate you coming down here, Eric. Lanie and I care about you. We want you to know that.”

  “Then check in on her for me?”

  “You got it.”

  Just then, the women appeared at the door, their conversation capturing the men’s attention. Lanie cupped her pregnant belly. She seemed to have gotten a bit larger in the time since Eric had last visited them.

  “I’m going to slice some watermelon, Cam. Mind giving me a hand?”

  He took Eric’s empty beer bottle and his own and followed his wife into the house. Mia came onto the deck. She was stunningly beautiful to him. The wind blew her sleek, dark hair as she approached.

  “I like Lanie.” She added wryly, “And I think Agent Vartran is warming to me.”

  “Cameron,” Eric corrected with a faint smile. Using his fingertips, he pushed back a few strands of hair the breeze had blown across her face.

  For a time, they stared out over the languid bay together, Mia’s head against his shoulder and his arm wrapped around her. The lighthouse on Anastasia Island cast a glow into the dark night, reflecting on the water where, at twilight, they had spotted a small group of frolicking manatees.

  “What’re you thinking?” he asked when she’d remained silent for a while.

  Her voice was somber. “Just that they’re still out there.”

  Eric knew what she was referring to. Cissy Cox’s remains had yet to be recovered, although her death had been confirmed by the chilling audio recording. The Bureau’s forensics team had used cadaver dogs to go over Levi’s property but nothing had turned up. Eric suspected her remains were moored somewhere in the St. Johns.

  And Joy Rourke, the little girl taken by Levi more than two decades ago, now existed only in Mia’s dreams. She’d been forgotten by the system, the only real proof of her life in Hank Dugger’s notes and the newspaper archives.

  “I’ve talked to Grayson. I’m going to do a cold case profile on Joy. He liked the idea.”

  “I don’t want to leave you,” Eric whispered.

  She looked up at him in the darkness. “I know.”

  He bent his head and kissed her, even now feeling a hunger for her. It was their last night together for a while, and Eric vowed to share dessert with Lanie and Cameron and then take Mia home where he could have her all to himself. Already, he dreaded her absence in his life.

  “I’ll be fine, Eric.” It was as if she could read his thoughts. “Will and Justin will be back in a few days. Justin’s mother’s improving and they’ve found a live-in caretaker for her until she’s fully recovered.”

  “You could come with me to D.C. tomorrow. Miller told you to take off whatever time you need.”

  She shook her head. “The summer ballet classes I’m teaching start at the center next week. I don’t want to disappoint those little girls. I also have a doctor’s appointment I need to keep.”

  For now, all they knew was that the sensory nerves in her fingertips had been damaged, impacting her sense of touch. The doctors would have to allow the wounds to heal further before determining its permanency. Mia had taken the news like a soldier, blithely mentioning that it might make using a keyboard interesting. But the reality was that it could also impact even basic skills like chopping vegetables or buttoning a shirt. Eric felt a lingering sense of anger about what Levi had done to her.

  Her voice distracted him from his thoughts.

  “Besides, if I come back with you now, we aren’t really giving this whole long-distance thing much of a try, are we?”

  “I’ll be back down again at least once before Lanie has the baby,” Eric promised.

  “And I’ll come up to see you at least once before then.”

  Hurricane lanterns had been set out around the deck. It was a romantic setting, but one that was also bittersweet. Eric stared into Mia’s eyes. He wanted to memorize this moment and call on it often during the
times they were apart.

  “Do we really need watermelon?” he asked in a low voice. “We could leave now.”

  “Lanie’s carved baskets out of cantaloupes to hold the fruit. She went to a lot of trouble. I think we need to stay.” She slid her arms around Eric’s neck and placed her lips against his ear, adding, “When we get home, I’ll make the wait worth your while.”

  Eric held her in his arms, reveling in the feel of her. She’d been through so much in her life. He thanked God he had gotten her back. If they were meant to be together, they would manage things, somehow.

  I haven’t left yet and I miss you already.

  Gently capturing her face in his hands, he lowered his lips to hers.

  Epilogue

  Four Months Later

  Chantilly, Virginia

  Mia felt her heart lift upon seeing Eric among the throngs of people inside Washington Dulles International Airport. He was dressed casually in khakis and a button-down, his sunglasses clipped to his shirt pocket. Spotting her at nearly the same time, he began making his way through the crowd to her. She went into his arms.

  Their kiss lingered despite the passengers bustling past them in the busy terminal.

  Eric had been down to Jacksonville a month earlier to celebrate the birth of Rosalie Marie Vartran. But to Mia it seemed an eternity since she had last seen him. The way she felt made it even clearer they were doing the right thing.

  “How was the flight?” Taking her carry-on bag and sliding its strap over his shoulder, they began walking toward the baggage carousel.

  “Crowded.” She looked up at him. “But worth it.”

  “It’s the end of the summer vacation season. People are getting in last-minute trips.”

  Mia was there in part for an interview with a D.C. newspaper, the meeting arranged by Grayson. He hadn’t seemed surprised when she’d told him that she and Eric were ready to take their relationship to the next level. The phone calls and occasional long weekends weren’t enough. She had been touched by his offer to contact an old friend who was executive editor at one of the metro dailies.

  “You look beautiful,” Eric said as they waited for her luggage to wind its way from cargo to the carousel.

  “I look like a wrinkled mess.” Self-conscious, Mia smoothed her hands over the sundress she wore. She was meeting Eric’s parents for the first time, at his insistence. They were going directly from the airport to dinner at their home in Falls Church. His sister, Hope, would also be there.

  “Hey,” he murmured, apparently sensing her nerves. “You’re going to do fine. Besides, I’m not a kid. The only approval you need is mine.”

  “That sounds ominous.”

  “Actually, my father is looking forward to meeting you. He followed the investigation and he thinks you’re a very brave woman.”

  She felt a little intimidated at the prospect of having dinner with the associate attorney general of the Department of Justice. “And your mother?”

  “You’re on your own with that one.” His teasing smile softened, his eyes becoming serious. “They both just want me to be happy. Don’t go in with preconceived notions. I’m pretty sure they’re going to love you as much as I do.”

  Taking a step closer, he tilted her face up to his and kissed her again. Mia’s hands rested against his chest. He felt so solid and strong.

  “You keep doing that and we’re going to miss my suitcase,” she said a little breathlessly once his lips left hers.

  Cradling the fingers of her left hand in his, he examined them, frowning. “How are they?”

  Although her nails had mostly grown back, the scar tissue underneath was evident, the keratin ridged and bumpy when it should be smooth. It was strange. Most of the time, her fingertips were simply numb, something she was slowly adapting to. But occasionally she felt a sharp flare of pain, an undead nerve vocalizing its outrage.

  “The same,” she said mildly. “The doctors have done about all they can do.”

  Compared to all those other women, she knew that she was the lucky one. She thought of Rebecca, Penney, Joy. Eric touched her face, his gaze questioning. Mia was unembarrassed by the tears in her eyes.

  “I’m just so glad to be here, Eric. I’ve missed you so much.”

  Only her suitcase broke the spell between them as it appeared on the carousel amid other passengers’ luggage. He stepped forward and dug it out, then pulled it on wheels with her carry-on stacked on top of it. As they went past the two-story, glass wall that provided a view of planes taxiing on the runway beneath a lavender, early-evening sky, they talked about his most recent case—a string of murders that had taken him to Portland, Oregon. Eric had been gone for a week and a half, acting as a consult to the local police there.

  In the parking garage, he put her luggage in the trunk of his car, then opened the passenger-side door for her and went around to the other side. Before starting the engine, however, he turned to her.

  “Whether or not this job works out, I’d like you to go ahead and move up here, Mia. As soon as possible.” His expression was earnest. “I don’t want to wait any longer to be with you.”

  Over the past several months, they had talked about so much during their regular phone calls. His cases, her return to the daily grind of news reporting, and what they both wanted from life. Eric had a crucial job at the VCU, no one knew that better than her. She understood his hectic schedule and heavy travel requirement, but if they lived in the same city, they would see each other more. Mia also wanted a deeper connection to him. She wanted to wake up in his bed every morning and share a home with him. They’d made the decision that she would be the one to relocate.

  “I also know you’ve been toying with the idea of doing something different,” he mentioned carefully. “Maybe not being a reporter anymore.”

  Despite the interview she was in town for, it was something else they had discussed. Mia was back at work and functioning, and she’d been seeing a trauma counselor. Grayson had returned her to her former crime beat. But there was no denying that what she’d gone through had impacted her. She felt as though she was at a crossroads in her life.

  “A lot of journalists make the move into media relations,” he continued. “Instead of reporting news, they start disseminating it.”

  “I get the feeling you’re talking about something specific.”

  He looked at her in the car’s darkened interior. “There’s an inner-city arts program in D.C. It includes dance. It’s gotten some pretty decent grants and donations but it needs publicity to keep the funds rolling in. They’re looking for a media relations director.”

  Mia felt her heart bump at the unexpected opportunity.

  “If you’re interested, my father can get you an interview, maybe even while you’re here. He sits on its board. Your background combined with your media skills—I think you’d be a good fit. It’s just something else to consider.”

  “I’d like to talk to them,” she said, grateful. “Thank you.”

  He leaned over and kissed her again. Then he started the engine.

  As he pulled the car from the garage, his fingers intertwined with hers on the armrest. Mia felt her throat tighten a little at all the changes occurring. She had lived in Jacksonville her entire life. She would miss it in so many ways. Will and Justin, her San Marco apartment, the ocean and sandy beaches that were minutes away. All of it was part of her.

  But there were also bad events in her past that she was ready to leave behind. She had a chance to start a new life here with the man she loved, and D.C. was an exciting place.

  They were moving in together. It was a step she had never taken before with anyone. But for the first time, she had truly given over her heart and her trust. Mia gazed at Eric’s profile as he drove. She understood that she was his chance to start over, too. All she wanted was the best for him. To be with him.

  It was a leap of faith, she knew, but nothing had ever felt more right.

  * * * * *

 
; ISBN: 9781459220348

  Copyright © 2012 by Leslie Tentler

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

 

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