“It’s a good theory of the kidnapping and Dora’s stalking,” Richard said.
“Yeah, but at this point it’s just a theory.” Mark stared out the passenger window. He didn’t want to tell Richard that he couldn’t let go of this theory that Melinda Grayson was the true evil behind everything.
He admitted it, it...she...had become an obsession especially since the horrible dream he’d had about the murders and her and some unknown male.
Still, that didn’t explain why anyone would be after Dora. No matter how he moved the pieces around, he still couldn’t fit everything into a completed puzzle or find an adequate profile of the perp in his head.
Richard parked along the street a block from the campus. There was definitely a crispness to the air this morning, the familiar scents of fall in the air.
Mark remembered Dora telling him she loved autumn, and like Dallas, Vengeance would enjoy a pleasant fall that would last long into the months where other states were seeing snowfall.
Of course, Mark wouldn’t be here when winter officially began in Vengeance. He’d be on another case, back working out of the Dallas field office and coming and going to the small apartment that had never really felt like home. The house he’d shared with Sarah had also never felt like home. It had always felt like Sarah’s home and then later Sarah and Grace’s home, but never his own.
Funny, he’d only been inside Dora’s house a couple of times, but there had been warmth and welcome there, a sense of home that he’d never felt before.
As he and Richard headed toward the building that housed the history department, he shoved thoughts of home and Dora away. He hadn’t even called her to check in on her this morning, knowing that she would have survived the night safely with Joseph on duty. Mark was a fool to think about her as the place where he belonged, as the home he’d never had.
It was time to solve this case and get out of Vengeance, leave Dora behind. It was time to gain some distance from her for his own sanity’s sake.
She’d made it clear on several occasions that there was nothing there for him but friendship, that the last thing she wanted in her life right now was the complication of a relationship.
“You’re unusually quiet this morning,” Richard said, pulling him out of his thoughts.
“I’m just ready to get this case solved and get back to Dallas,” Mark replied.
Richard raised an eyebrow. “And here I thought maybe you’d want this case to go on for a long time due to a certain bookstore lady.”
Mark gave him a pained smile. “She’s not ready for a man in her life and we both know that I don’t do relationships very well.”
“Mark, you didn’t fail at your marriage,” Richard said as they paused outside the history building. “You married a woman who never understood who you are at your core and what you do. You aren’t like ordinary men who work nine-to-five jobs. You have a special gift that doesn’t always fit in the outside world but makes you invaluable as an FBI agent.”
“And a bad choice as a boyfriend or husband,” Mark replied ruefully.
“Not true,” Richard said firmly. “All it means is that whatever woman eventually winds up in your life has to be somebody who can embrace all that you are, a woman who doesn’t expect you to be a normal man.”
“You’re making me sound like a freak,” Mark exclaimed.
Richard laughed. “There’s a difference between being a freak and being special. You’re special, Mark, and you deserve a special woman, and I hope you find her someday.”
Someday, but not here and not now...not Dora, he thought as they entered the building. He focused on the task at hand, eager to find out what he could about the supposed relationship between Andrew Peterson and Melinda Grayson.
It took them several minutes inside the building to find Andrew Peterson’s small office on the second floor. There was a note on the door that indicated he was currently teaching a class and would be back in his office and available at ten-fifteen.
Mark checked his watch. “Fifteen minutes. Should we just hang out right here?”
“Sounds good to me,” Richard said, and leaned back against the wall to make himself comfortable. Mark did the same on the opposite wall, gathering together in his mind the questions he wanted to ask Andrew Peterson.
Students swept past the two agents, hurrying toward a class or escaping to the building exit. They carried with them an energy that filled Mark’s veins as he thought of a scenario where Andrew Peterson had been the man outside Dora’s window the night before.
Mark knew the man he’d chased had been medium build and in good shape. If Andrew Peterson ambled in fat or skinny, with sagging or bulging muscles, then it would instantly prove his innocence in the scene the night before and would also discount him as the man in the tape with Melinda. Melinda’s captor had also been medium build and in good physical condition.
Nick Jeffries had been invited to the four-o’clock briefing. Mark and his team had managed to play nice with the local law enforcement, and Nick had made it easy as the liaison between the two.
Certainly Nick had a personal interest in seeing the crimes solved. Not only had he made notification of death to Peter Burris’s wife, but when Suzie Burris’s life had been threatened, Nick had not only protected her but also had fallen hard for the new mother and recently widowed woman.
The nice thing was that unlike what so often happened in cases where the FBI was brought in, there was no pissing contest between the two law enforcement agencies.
They were all working for an arrest and conviction and it didn’t matter who got the job done or who took the glory, just as long as it got done. It was a united effort. Unfortunately, the Vengeance police force hadn’t been able to come up with any more than the FBI.
A dark-haired man who appeared to be in his early forties hurried toward them, his arms full of papers and a couple of textbooks.
“Excuse me,” he said to Richard as he unlocked the office door and disappeared inside and then closed the door behind him. Richard looked at Mark.
“Could be him,” Mark said softly. Andrew Peterson couldn’t be ruled out by his body type and size alone. Mark knocked on the door.
“Enter,” Andrew yelled through the door.
As they opened the door and stepped inside the small office, Andrew looked up from his desk, his gaze narrowing slightly as he faced the two men. He rose to his feet. “I was expecting it to be a student. Can I help you, gentlemen?”
As Richard made the introductions, Mark stared at the man who might or might not be part of the puzzle. Andrew Peterson was a nice-looking man. His blue eyes held a touch of wariness, which wouldn’t be considered unusual in the circumstances of being confronted by two FBI agents.
Andrew motioned them to two straight-back chairs in front of his desk. “We thought it was time we had a little chat with you,” Richard began as he and Mark sat down.
“About?”
“Melinda Grayson,” Mark said flatly, watching Peterson’s features carefully for tells. There was a faint flare in his eyes and his mouth tightened. The tells were barely discernible, but Mark had been trained to watch for them, to recognize them.
“Professor Grayson,” Andrew replied. “A terrible thing that happened to her, but what does that have to do with me?”
“We were just wondering who broke off the affair, you or her, or if the affair is still ongoing?” Mark went straight for the man’s jugular.
Andrew sputtered incoherently and blinked several times like an owl unexpectedly caught in the daylight. He turned his gaze from Mark to Richard and then back again. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, we think you do,” Richard replied smoothly.
“We know about the affair, Mr. Peterson. What we need to know now is if it has ended or if i
t is still ongoing,” Mark said, his gaze pinning the man in his chair. “Or perhaps you’d feel more comfortable answering our questions down at the courthouse.”
Andrew jumped out of his chair and for an instant Mark thought he intended to run from the office. Instead he walked over to the door and closed it, then returned to his seat behind his desk, his eyes glimmering with the shame of a guilty man.
“Please, I’d much rather answer your questions here. This is rather a delicate situation.”
“Adultery is usually a delicate situation,” Richard said drily.
“So, tell us about you and Melinda,” Mark said, noting that a fine sheen of sweat had appeared just above Peterson’s upper lip.
“There really isn’t much to tell,” Andrew replied. “I knew Melinda around campus, but our paths rarely passed because we’re in different departments, housed in different buildings.”
He leaned back in his chair and stared at a photograph on his desk. Although Mark couldn’t see anything but the back of the picture frame he guessed that it was the requisite photo of Andrew’s happy, smiling family.
Andrew shook his head and instead focused his attention out the nearby window, as if unable to look at the picture while he talked about Melinda.
“The affair began about a month before she was kidnapped.” He spoke the word as if it left a nasty taste in his mouth. “About three weeks before that I found myself next to Melinda at a staff meeting for the department heads. I’d been to plenty of such meetings with her, but this time she sat next to me and was being very flirtatious. You’ve seen her, right?”
He looked back to Richard and Mark, who both nodded, and Andrew hurriedly continued, as if he’d just been waiting for somebody to ask, as if he needed to confess his sins.
“She’s smoking hot and things at home weren’t going so well. I had a harassed, nagging, exhausted wife dealing with three children under five years of age, and there was Melinda, making me feel like I was the smartest, most desirable man in the entire world.”
“And so you two began an affair,” Mark said.
Andrew gave a curt nod. “We were so careful. We didn’t email each other, didn’t leave any kind of a phone trail. We’d see each other on campus and then plan to meet up at a motel just outside of town. She was like an intoxicating addiction to me for a couple of weeks. I lost sight of everything that would be destroyed in my life if my wife or colleagues found out. I lost sight of everything that was important to me. Nothing mattered but being with Melinda.”
A dry, humorless laugh escaped him. “And then one day she just ended it. No explanation, so emotionless, she just told me she was tired of me and it was time for her to move on.”
“And that made you angry,” Mark replied.
Again Andrew laughed, the sound brittle and false and with a touch of genuine humor. “Actually, it shook me to my core. It made me realize I’d been a stupid fool and I went home and hugged my wife and kissed my kids and thanked God that I’d come to my senses about what was important in my life.”
“So, you felt no anger toward Melinda,” Richard said, his disbelief evident in his voice.
Andrew leaned forward in his chair, a new alertness in his eyes, his lips slashed to a thin line once again. “What’s this all about? Why are you here talking to me about all of this? I’ve had nothing to do with Melinda since our breakup.”
“We need to know where you were and what you were doing on the day that Melinda disappeared.”
Andrew’s face flushed with color. “Surely you can’t believe I had anything to do with that. I’m a respected teacher here. I’ve always been a law-abiding citizen.”
“This wouldn’t be the first time a seductive, beautiful woman shoved a man over the edge,” Richard replied coolly.
The flush on Andrew’s face deepened. “I can’t tell you where I was that day just off the top of my head. I’d have to check my day planner, reconstruct my activities, and I have a class to teach in five minutes.”
“Then we’ll be back later today to get that information from you,” Richard said as he stood. “I would recommend your full cooperation with us, Mr. Peterson. I’d hate for any of this to get out to the press.”
It was a barely veiled threat, for Mark knew that the last thing Andrew Peterson wanted was for anyone to find out about his illicit affair with the beautiful professor.
“By the way,” Mark said as they reached the office door, “where were you last night between the hours of eight o’clock and ten?”
Andrew frowned. “I taught a class at seven and then came back here to the office and spent the next couple of hours grading papers. I went right home from here. Why? What happened last night? Is Melinda okay?”
“She’s fine. Did anyone see you here when you left?”
Andrew shook his head. “Not that I know of. The building was closed by that time and I used my pass card and code to get out. I didn’t see any security as I left.”
“Somebody will be back later this afternoon for the information we’ve requested,” Mark said.
“So, what do you think?” Richard asked Mark as they stepped out of the building and began the walk back to where they’d parked their car.
“I found it interesting that he didn’t ask us how we knew about the affair.”
“Indicating he already knew that Dora had seen him and Melinda together?”
“Possibly,” Mark agreed. “I also doubt that the transition between being Melinda’s besotted lover and returning to loving husband to his wife was as smooth as he’d like us to believe.”
“What’s our next move?”
“I’d like to contact Nick Jeffries and see if one of his men can put a tail on Peterson for the next couple of days. I’m not convinced he wasn’t the perp at Dora’s window last night. His alibi seemed a little shady.” Mark frowned thoughtfully as he got into the passenger side of the car.
“If we separate the two crimes, as most of the team has already done, then potentially we have our murderer, Troy Young, behind bars now and we have Andrew Peterson with motive and opportunity to teach Melinda a lesson by kidnapping her and busting her up a bit,” Mark said.
“Feels good to me. So, why don’t you sound happy?”
“I don’t know,” Mark admitted.
“Personally, I’m smelling the end of things here in Vengeance.” Richard shot him a quick, knowing glance. “Maybe that’s why Mark isn’t a happy camper? Because he likes a certain somebody here in Vengeance and isn’t quite ready to tell her goodbye?”
Dora. Thoughts of her exploded in Mark’s head. Maybe she was the reason he was trying to make the case more difficult than it was, buying him more time here in Vengeance, time he could spend with her.
“This is the first time I’ve allowed personal feelings to get twisted up with my investigation,” Mark admitted.
“Then she must be a special woman,” Richard returned.
A special woman. Dora was that and more, but she’d told him both in actions and with words that she didn’t want a real, in-depth relationship at this point in her life.
Even knowing that, he had a swift desire to see her. Joseph had let him know she’d weathered the night all right and had gone to class this morning, despite the fact he’d already told himself it was time to start distancing himself from her. He was being pulled in too deep and didn’t want to get hurt, but he knew before the night was over he’d seek her out.
She might be a special woman and Richard had said that Mark was a special man, but at the moment he simply felt like a fool. He was unwilling to give up seeing a woman who had told him she had no place for him in her life.
He’d go back to Dallas and continue to be special...and alone.
Chapter 10
As evening fell Dora found herself restlessly pacing
from the kitchen to the living room and back again. Would Mark stop by to see her tonight or wouldn’t he? Would the stalker from the night before once again show up to terrorize her?
Agent Larry Albright had called her earlier to let her know that they’d made arrangements with campus security to keep an eye out for her and had also arranged for hourly drive-bys throughout the night by the Vengeance Police Department.
She should be safe, but that didn’t stop the edginess that kept her from completely relaxing, the tension that rode her shoulders like a wild cowboy she couldn’t throw off.
By the time eight o’clock came and went she considered changing out of her jeans and sweater and into her nightgown. Before she could put the action to her thoughts, a soft knock sounded on her door and she peeked out the window to see Mark standing on her porch.
The tension fluttered out of her, replaced by a simmering excitement. She opened the door and he gave her the sexy grin that moved her, that thrilled her.
As he stepped inside she closed the door and immediately moved to stand against his body. She closed her eyes the instant his arms wrapped around her. “I wasn’t sure I’d see you tonight,” she said, her face nuzzled into the crook of his neck.
“It’s been a busy day,” he replied.
“Coffee?” she asked. “I already made it.”
“I’m good right here,” he said, not releasing her from his embrace. “But, coffee is probably a better idea for us.” He dropped his arms from around her and stepped back, his eyes midnight-blue. “I want to play by your rules, Dora, but when you let me hold you, it’s hard to remember the rules.”
“Maybe I’ve been reconsidering my rules,” she said, her voice surprisingly breathy to her own ears.
His eyes flared a bit but he remained in place and stuffed his hands in the pockets of the dark windbreaker with the bright yellow FBI letters on the back and front. “Several of the men searched Troy Young’s outbuildings today and found a pair of shoes that appear to have the same kind of soil as the place where the murdered men were buried. I doubt I’ll make it to homecoming.”
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