by Hinze, Vicki
“I need to know it’s me you want.” She forced herself to look up from his chest and into his eyes. “Not just any woman.”
He blinked, and the frown wrinkling the skin between his brows smoothed. “I only want you, Caron.” He softened his voice and that darling curl tilted his lip. “You.”
A warm glow started deep in the pit of her stomach and fanned through her chest. She was in love. She wanted and needed this man. And she was going to be open about her feelings. If he didn’t love her back, if she suffered for taking the risk later...well, she’d suffer. But she wasn’t going to run.
Her hand trembling, she fingered the hair on his chest, unable to meet his eyes. “I’ve been hurt. And the truth is, I’m afraid of you.”
“Why?” He cupped her face in his hands. “Don’t you know how much I want you? Can’t you see that I’m crazy about you?” He sank his teeth into his lip.
“I’m afraid because they only hurt me.” The single light burning in the hallway cast a stream of light across the bed and his chest. His expression was hidden in the shadows. “But you—you can devastate me.”
Parker dropped his hands to his sides. He stood rigid, his hands balled into fists. There was nothing charming, no resemblance to a womanizer, in him now; his expression was darker than a moonless night. “Caron.”
He didn’t move, and she knew that until she looked at him he wasn’t going to move. For them, it was now or never. She lifted her chin and met his gaze.
“You’re not alone in this.” He stroked her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “My heart’s right here.”
He kissed her tenderly, gently, lovingly, caressing her back, her sides, her face. She lifted her hands, curled them around his neck and felt a tiny explosion of desire deep inside. This was right. So right. “I need you,” she whispered, stepping closer into his arms.
“I need you, too.”
“And after?” She risked a glance up to his eyes. “Will you need me after?”
He lookd her right in the eye. “Blessing or curse, I’ll need you forever.” A flash a vulnerability streaked through his eyes. “The question is, will you need me?”
“I will.”
He cupped her face, caressing it with tiny kisses that soon became long, lingering ones. He whispered tender longings, gentle love words that she needed to hear, longings and words she deciphered not with her ears, but with her heart. In his arms she felt cherished, wanted, adored, the way only a woman in love can feel.
Together they walked into his bedroom and closed the door.
Still awash in sensation, Caron wrapped her arms around him, and when he started to move away she held him in place. “No, don’t leave me. Not yet.”
“Not yet.” He opened his eyes. Understanding bloomed bright in their depths. “I’m not running, Caron. And I’m not leaving.” He kissed her firmly. “I still need you.”
Facing each other, they nuzzled, and cuddled and whispered lovers’ secrets. She lifted a fingertip to his lips, then pulled back to focus. Her heart was so full it threatened to burst, and when she told him, she wanted to see his face. “Parker,” she whispered, her gaze sweeping his mouth, his hair, his twinkling eyes, “I love you.”
Parker stiffened. He didn’t know what to say. Guilt invaded him. And more than he wanted to make love with her again, he wanted to tell her the truth. What had he done? He’d had no right to make love with her. He’d lied to her, spied on her and deceived her. He’d had no right to take from her.
Yet he had taken. He had...taken.
Angry with himself, he set her away, then hauled his body into the bath. His image in the bathroom mirror taunted him. He couldn’t meet his own eyes. He had to tell her. All of it. Everything. Right now.
Resolved, he crawled back into her bed. She stroked his hair. He swore he’d never tire of the feel of her hands in his hair. It was the most nurturing gesture he’d ever felt, yet the most arousing one. She’d given him so much, and was still giving to him. He raised her hand from his chest and pressed it firmly against his mouth. “Caron, you know I—”
“Shh...” She pressed a fingertip to his lips. “You don’t have to say anything. I don’t expect it. I just wanted you to know how I feel. I just wanted you to know that I love you. That’s all.”
He had a lot to say to her. But before he could respond, she yawned and turned onto her side, then nestled back against him. If he told her tonight, she’d be awake cursing him and crying. She was exhausted. And so was he.
He pulled her closer. She was perfect. Everything he’d ever wanted in a woman, and more. He wanted to give her the words, but first he had to give her the truth. It had waited this long; it could wait a few more hours.
No, it couldn’t wait. Not another minute. Caron had laid her heart and soul on the line for him, and he wouldn’t diminish the importance of that to him by letting his lies remain between them. “Caron, I have to tell you—” She went board-stiff in his arms. “Honey, what is it?”
“It’s Misty!” Caron scrambled from the bed, started tossing on her clothes. “Hurry, Parker! Oh, God, hurry! They’re going to kill her!”
Chapter 11
The hospital corridor was deceptively quiet.
Sandy wasn’t there, and the guard wasn’t outside Misty’s door. Caron scanned the hall, ceiling to floor. Nothing but the change from white paint to white tile broke the monotony, yet she felt the same sense of violation she’d felt in her apartment, the same sense of rage that she’d felt the night someone had left the message on her door.
At her side, Parker whispered. “You were right. Something is going down.”
Caron nodded her agreement, not surprised that his investigative instincts mirrored her intuitive ones. They stopped outside Misty’s door. Caron pressed the palm of her hand against it. A flash of fear had her jerking back.
Parker didn’t so much as lift a brow. He just reached into his shoulder holster and pulled out his gun. “Find a nurse. Have her call Security.”
Caron nodded, ducked down so that she couldn’t be seen through the window, then made her way down the hall.
Two nurses were talking at the nurses’ station. “Call Security and get the police,” Caron said, without explaining.
The women just gaped.
“Do it now!” When they started grabbing phones, Caron rushed back to Parker.
He motioned for Caron to stay where she was, then moved to the row of windows and risked looking in through a crack in the drawn drapes.
“Oh, sweet Jesus,” he whispered, dropping into a crouch.
“What is it?” Caron whispered back. Memories of Sarah, of the night she’d died, rushed back, clouding Caron’s thoughts and perceptions. Again she saw Sarah’s battered body. Again she saw the flames licking at the building, consuming it. No one else would ever suffer there.
Parker whispered. “It’s Vanessa and Forrester. He’s armed.”
“Misty!” Panic, fear, bombarded Caron, clawed at her stomach and chest. Not again. Not Misty. Damn it, she was supposed to be safe! It was supposed to be over!
“Vanessa’s beside her on the bed.”
“Where are Collin and Sandy? They were supposed to be here!”
“They are. Tied up on the floor, against the far wall.”
An image of some sharp object flashed through Caron’s mind. “We’ve got to go in. Vanessa knows.”
Parker looked worried. “Can you handle her?”
“Yes!” Where in God’s name was the hospital staff? Where was security? The police?
Parker moved to the door. His eyes changed. The softness faded, and something cold and hard settled in its place. He shoved hard. The door swung open, slammed back. They rushed in.
Metal struck metal and Forrester’s gun clanged against an IV pole, then slid across the floor. Vanessa turned, a syringe in her hand. Caron lunged, clipping the woman’s shoulder with a momentum that knocked her off the bed. The syringe flew through the air, then bounced harmlessl
y on the tile. Its plastic cracked.
Caron went over the foot of the bed, throwing her weight, and landed with a swoosh of breath on top of Vanessa, pinning her to the floor.
Vanessa fought back, fought hard, as though her life depended on her breaking free. Caron dodged angry fists
arcing toward her in wide swings, deflected sharp nails attempting to claw at her face, and suffered jabs from feet and thrashing knees trying to dislodge her. She held hard and fast...and she fought back.
Behind her, something crashed. She glanced back. Parker landed a hard right to Forrester’s stomach that doubled him over. He lifted a foot and aimed it at Parker’s groin. Parker shifted on the balls of his feet, grabbed Forrester’s ankle and twisted.
Forrester hit the floor.
Vanessa wrangled free and clipped Caron a dizzying blow. Pain ripped through her chest. Raw terror grew to black rage. Caron raised her fist, saw fear in Vanessa’s eyes, and paused. Memories of what the woman had done to her daughter, memories of Sarah, gushed into Caron’s mind. “Your daughter? Your own flesh and blood?” And with a guttural cry of outrage, Caron slammed her fist into Vanessa Phillips’s perfect face.
The woman crumpled and went limp. Caron looked and saw Forrester dive for his gun. Parker was quicker, kicking it out of reach. He whipped around, planted his foot firmly on Forrester’s chest—and leveled the Colt, targeting Forrester’s heart.
“Don’t shoot!” Forrester yelled. “God, don’t shoot!”
Her limbs leaden, her arm throbbing from the blows she’d taken from and landed on Vanessa, Caron moved to untie Sandy and Collin. Then she went to Misty.
The child’s face was pasty and white, but she was unharmed. Caron cuddled Misty, trying to soothe her. “You saw a lady at the camp the day before Parker and I came, didn’t you?”
Misty nodded, her eyes brimming with tears. She pointed to Vanessa. “Mom and the lady that untied me.”
Caron nearly cried. “You saw a man choke that lady.”
Again Misty nodded. “He cut her neck with a knife.”
“I know, honey.” Caron tightened her hold, tried with all her might to absorb the horror of what Misty had seen into her own body. The pain of losing Sarah didn’t lessen, just as Misty’s pain wouldn’t lessen. She’d always remember seeing Linda Forrester murdered. But with the right kind of help, Misty could learn to cope. And she’d be alive to cope. She’d survived.
Caron found comfort in that. “We don’t have to talk about it anymore now.” Remembering how confusing what she’d imaged as a child had been, she cupped a finger under Misty’s chin and lifted until they saw eye-to-eye. “But you can’t keep your feelings inside about this. You have to talk about it until it doesn’t scare you anymore. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Caron released Misty and stood up.
Nursing her jaw, Vanessa scooted across the floor to the wall, then slid up it to sit.
Caron pointed at her. “That’s far enough.”
“I’m going to kill him.” Collin started toward Forrester.
“Collin, no!” Grabbing his sleeve, Caron looked up at him. “He’s not worth it.”
Collin tried to brush off her arm, but she held tight. “Misty can’t lose you, too. She needs you.”
He looked at his daughter, saw the fat tears tumbling down her face, and the fury drained from his. He rushed over, scooped her up in his long arms and held her while she cried.
“Sanders, get your guys and get these people out of here.” Parker kept the gun trained on Forrester. “Then start explaining.”
Sandy moved to the hall. The officers were arriving.
Caron looked down at Vanessa. How could anyone so beautiful on the outside be so ugly within? She’d had everything. “I want to know why.”
Vanessa grunted and motioned at Collin and Misty. “Look at them.” She dragged a hand through her red hair. “It’s been that way since she was born. He doesn’t give a damn about me. It’s her. He’s always loved her.”
Caron looked down at the woman in pity and disgust. She was jealous of Misty. So jealous she would have killed her own daughter. “He’s her father. He’s supposed to love her.”
Before Vanessa could say any more, Caron walked closer to Parker, careful to avoid Forrester’s reach. “You okay?”
“Fine.” He looked up at her. “You?”
She started to disclose what she’d learned from Misty, then decided against it, nodded, and walked toward the hall. After Forrester and Vanessa had been taken into custody, there would be plenty of time to let Parker know that this wasn’t over. Caron glanced at Sandy. He was talking to Parker. She remembered back, how it had been between her and the detective through the years. Since she was seven, she had respected and admired him. He had been her friend and confidant, her partner in helping others. Something good inside her died. Her heart ached, mourning the loss, and she fought tears.
Vanessa had been willing to kill Misty. But she hadn’t killed Linda Forrester.
Neither had Linda’s husband.
Her shoulders slumped, Caron walked on into the hallway and slumped back against the wall. That left two suspects: Sandy and Decker. One of them was guilty of Linda Forrester’s murder.
And Caron knew which one.
Following Sandy in the Porsche, Parker looked over at Caron. “I thought you’d be happy. Misty’s okay.”
“She’s still not safe.” Caron swept her hair back and stared straight ahead. “She saw the killing, Parker.” Caron’s voice cracked.
“We thought she had, but I was hoping...” He couldn’t look at her; the pain that had haunted her since Sarah’s death would be there in her eyes. But a scrap of conversation replayed in his mind, and it gave him no alternative. He wouldn’t play ostrich like her mother. He wouldn’t bury his head in the sand and let Caron go through this alone. “You saw the killing, too.”
“Yes.” She reached for his hand. “When I held Misty.”
He laced their fingers and gave her a reassuring squeeze. Sanders made the turn onto Belle Chase Highway. Parker followed. “I know it was Decker, Caron.”
“How?” She sounded surprised.
“Because of the leash. Because Linda had told him if Keith Forrester didn’t, she would release Misty. Mary Beth had heard her swear it in the diner, remember? Thank God he didn’t know where she was; he hadn’t lied about that. If he had known she was in the shed, he would have killed her, too. I believe Linda had gone to the camp to meet Sandy, but she’d found out Misty was there and intended to return her to her father. Decker couldn’t have had Misty live—she could have identified him.”
“How do you know that? I imaged Linda telling Misty, but-”
“Sanders told me.”
“And you believe him?”
Parker glanced at her. “Yes, I do. He’s a bitter man, Caron. Bitter about his demotion at work. Bitter at Linda for duping him. Bitter at letting his heart rule his head. But he didn’t kill her.”
Caron thought about that. Sandy had withheld information, and more, but Parker was right; Sandy hadn’t killed Linda.
Something Ina had said came back. “He knows I’ve
called the police. But he ain’t stomped my irises yet.”
Ina.
“Parker, I know where Decker is.”
“Where?”
“Ina’s. He’s at Ina’s. He knows she called the police. He’ll know Sandy heard about it.”
“And he’ll want to keep her from talking.” Parker stomped the accelerator and motioned for Sanders to follow.
Creeping from hedge to hedge in the dark, Caron inched her way across Ina’s shell drive and up to the window where she’d seen Ina the night she’d escaped from Decker’s house.
Though it wasn’t quite dawn, the curtains were open. Looking inside, Caron saw Ina, sitting in a wooden rocker, her rosary in her hand, her fingers curling around a bead, and her lips moving silently.
Caron shifted to see farther. Ina
looked up and saw her, then jerked her head, motioning back toward the kitchen.
Caron nodded to let Ina know she’d understood, then moved back to where Parker and Sandy had gathered.
Her heart pounded a hundred beats a minute. “She knows we’re here. He’s in the kitchen.”
Parker checked the Colt’s chamber. “You take the front, I’ll take the back.”
Sandy nodded. “Right.”
“You’re going to trust him?” Caron didn’t want to say it, but this was Parker. Parker!
What if Sandy and Decker were working together? What if—?
“He didn’t kill her, Caron. Sandy brought me in on this to see to it you remained safe, and he told us about the leash so that we could find Misty.”
Sandy looked straight into her eyes for the first time since all of this had started. “I didn’t do it, Caron. I was at the camp. We argued, and I slapped her—that’s what Misty saw—but I did not kill Linda. I loved her. I’ve always loved her.”
“You left the message on my door.”
“Yes. Linda asked for time, so I didn’t file the report. Then you came back. I knew Linda. I knew she’d do the right thing and turn Misty loose. She didn’t know about the kidnapping until after it happened. I swear it.”
The shield between them melted, and Caron sensed his feelings in a rush, sensed that he was only telling her the truth. “You were protecting her.”
“Yes.” He rubbed his ruddy jaw. “She needed time. And you were closing in too fast.” He held up a hand. “I wrote the message, but I’d never have hurt you. I asked Parker to help you to keep you safe. I swear to God, I just wanted to slow you down.”