“I was a little bit scared for myself,” he admitted. “Thank goodness it was just a motion detector and there were no guard dogs with big, scary teeth.”
He settled back in his seat and stared down the road. They were betting that the killer would adhere to the timeline he’d set up with the four previous murders. It was close to midnight now, and they’d remain in place until just after two and then head back to his house.
“This is going to play hell with our daily schedules,” he said.
“I really don’t have much of a regular schedule,” she replied. “As long as I take several hours to research and do my homework for the podcast each night, then I can sleep until noon if I want to.”
“I don’t have that luxury right now. We’re in the middle of putting up a high-rise building and I like to be on-site every day to work with the builder.”
“Whatever you do, don’t go up in a high-rise and then get sleepy and fall off.”
He smiled. “Trust me, I always wear a safety belt when I go up high. Generally, I don’t do crazy things.”
“Sitting in a car in the middle of the night to try to catch a serial killer...you don’t consider this crazy?” Her tone was teasing.
“Oh, it’s crazy all right, but I also feel like it’s my duty. I don’t believe anyone else is trying to stop him and we both know so far he hasn’t made a mistake to help the police in their investigation.”
She reached over and placed her hand on his forearm. Her fingers were warm and soft, and he fought the need to overreact to the touch and jerk his arm away.
“Jake, I find what you’re doing right now to be quite admirable.”
“I’m the last person anyone should admire,” he scoffed, grateful when she removed her hand from him.
The car was suddenly too warm. He started the engine and turned the air conditioner on high. He felt her gaze lingering on him, but he didn’t turn his head to look at her.
“Jake, I have a feeling this man would have eventually killed with or without anyone else’s involvement. He’s playing God and from all indications he likes it.”
“That’s why he needs to be stopped. I’m afraid that after he kills all the men who hurt us, he’ll move on to killing other people. Not all people charged with a crime are guilty and there’s no way of knowing who he might move on to next.”
Strange, he was far more comfortable talking murder with her than talking about anything else. He didn’t want to make small talk with her. He didn’t want to get to know her better. They were partners with a common goal, and that was it.
With the interior of the car sufficiently cooled off, he cut the engine.
“You told me both of your parents were gone. What happened to them?” she asked.
Apparently, she intended to make small talk. He sighed. He rarely thought of his parents, who had spent their lives making bad choices.
“They were both drug addicts from the time Suzanna and I were four or five. Our father overdosed and died when we were eleven. Mom tried to clean up and pull it together, but she never managed it. She wound up overdosing and dying when we had just turned eighteen.”
“Oh, wow. I’m so sorry,” she replied.
“Thanks, but it was a long time ago.” His childhood had been more than difficult, but he’d always believed it had made him strong, and it had bonded him and his sister together in a way that even went beyond their twin connection. They’d always had only each other to depend on.
“Tell me about your sisters and your father.” Even though he didn’t want to know too much about her, it seemed the proper thing to ask. In any case, he was grateful to keep the conversation off him and his miserable life.
She shifted positions in the seat and leaned closer to him. “My sisters are five and six years older than me. Addie is the eldest. She’s married and has two daughters. She’s also a nurse. Elizabeth is also married and has a little girl. She and her husband have their own law firm. At birth I was a disappointment to my father. I was supposed to be the boy he’d wanted.”
“I’m sure that didn’t change how much he loved you,” Jake replied.
“I don’t know, I always felt as if I had to work extra hard to please him. Of course, my two sisters being overachieving Goody Two-shoes didn’t help, and I did go through a couple of years of a little rebellion in high school.”
Somehow this didn’t surprise him about her. “How much of a rebellion?”
She grinned. “Not that bad. It was the usual teenage stuff. I blew off curfews and partied a little. More recently, Dad isn’t exactly thrilled at my choice of careers. He thinks I’m just wasting my time and playing at a job. He doesn’t understand that this is my passion and my chosen path.”
For the next hour and a half they talked about their jobs. She told him about past stories she had run, including her investigation into gang activity, and he told her about the buildings he’d envisioned and had the pleasure to see through to completion.
He broke down and ate a handful of corn chips and they opened sodas that she had brought. There followed a good-natured argument about what was the best snack food. He liked salty and nutty, and she was definitely into sweet candy. She was so easy to talk to and he found himself completely relaxing with her company. They talked briefly about politics and agreed to disagree on some issues.
When two o’clock rolled around he was surprised by how quickly the time had gone by. “I think we’re safe to get out of here now,” he said. “If Clay is our man he would have already made a move if he was going to do anything tonight.”
“I agree.” She pulled her seat belt back around her, and he did the same and then started the car.
“Are you positive we just have to worry about one of these two men being the killer?” she asked as he headed back to his house.
He frowned thoughtfully. “I know without a doubt that the killer isn’t Nick Simon or Troy Anderson. Both of those men were shaken up and freaked out when the men they were supposed to kill in the plan were killed. I also know those two men have moved on from this whole mess. They’ve found new love and want nothing to do with this. I’m not as sure in Matt Harrison’s complete innocence. But I think the odds are the killer is either Clay or Adam.”
“Are we back on Clay again tomorrow night?” She stifled a yawn with the back of her hand.
“I think we stick on him until something happens.” A knot formed in Jake’s chest. That something would be another man’s murder unless he could stop it from happening. He prayed that he would be able to prevent the killer before another man was murdered.
They were quiet on the rest of the drive. “Will you be okay to drive home?” he asked as he pulled into his driveway next to where her car was parked.
“I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “Same time tomorrow night?” she asked when they got out of the car.
“Unless you want to have dinner with me again. You mentioned that you like Mexican. How about I take you to El Chappo’s?”
The moonlight bathed her face in a silvery light and her pleasure was obvious in the shine of her eyes and the curve of her lips. What in the hell was he thinking? What in the hell was he doing?
“I’d like that,” she replied. “I’ve eaten there often and I love their food. Why don’t I meet you there at around six?”
“Sounds good,” he replied, even though he already wanted to take the invitation back.
Minutes later he watched as her car pulled away. He continued to watch until her lights disappeared and then he turned and went into his house.
Exhaustion filled him as he went into his bedroom and got ready for bed. It had been years since he’d had any kind of social interaction with anyone. He’d pushed away the friends he’d once had in his grief and rage.
They had been not only his friends, but Suzanna’s as well. After her murder, seeing any of
them had just been too painful.
Even though he and Monica had talked about nothing important, sharing conversation with her had felt good. It had stirred a hunger in him for more social talk, more time with her, making her even more of a temptation to him.
He shouldn’t have asked her to eat with him again. He’d been foolish to invite her. He didn’t want her to think that she was anything to him except part of his plan to catch a killer.
He’d liked being in her company and that wasn’t good. She’d made him laugh, and there was no place in his life for laughter or fun. Max Clinton might have killed his sister, but Jake could never forgive himself for what he had done on that terrible night.
Chapter Four
Monica walked into El Chappo’s and all her senses came alive. Rousing music played overhead and the walls were painted with colorful murals. The scents of tortillas and pork, of onions and enchilada sauce, rode the air.
Still, it was the sight of Jake sitting in a booth toward the back and waiting for her that really stirred her senses. He was such a hunk and she knew he’d smell wonderful. She liked the sound of his deep voice and especially enjoyed the rumble of his laughter.
She hated to admit it, but she’d been looking forward to having dinner with him all day long. She really hated to admit that she wanted to get to know him better.
She certainly hadn’t expected to like him this much. She definitely needed him to break the biggest story of her career and of course that was her top priority. She just had to keep reminding herself of that. She wasn’t ready for any kind of a relationship in her life. She needed all her energies and attention focused on her career.
“Good evening, Mr. Lamont,” she said as she scooted into the booth seat across from his.
He smiled. “And good evening to you, Ms. Wright. I hope you brought your appetite.”
“I’m starving.” She reached for the basket of chips that sat in the center of the table. She grabbed one, dipped it in the bowl of hot sauce and popped it in her mouth. “Hmm, I love these things.”
“They are addictive,” he replied, and took one.
“You don’t look too tired considering our overnight hours.” In truth he looked amazing in a white short-sleeved shirt that complemented his glossy black hair and tanned skin.
“I managed to sneak in a nap this afternoon. What about you?”
“I slept in until almost eleven.”
A waitress appeared at their table and took their drink orders. He got a soda and she opted for a strawberry daiquiri. Within minutes their drinks arrived and they placed their meal orders.
“Other than your nap, how was your day?” she asked once the waitress had left.
“It was good. Everything is going as scheduled on the new building and that’s always a good thing. What about you?” He gazed at her with an intensity that threatened to steal her breath away. Under different circumstances it would be so easy to fall into the depths of his green eyes. Instead she grabbed another chip.
“It was okay. I ran some errands for my dad, because, you know, I don’t have a real job.” She couldn’t help the touch of irritation that colored her voice. She crunched on the chip.
“Does that happen a lot?”
She nodded and swallowed. “More often than it should.” She cast him a bright smile. “But all that will change once we complete our mission and I break the big story.” She just knew then she’d get the respect from her father that she so longed for. That was her ultimate goal, to gain the love and respect from her father that she felt was missing in their relationship.
Despite the fact that a lot of the tables and booths were filled with diners, their meals arrived fairly quickly. He had ordered a pork-stuffed burrito and she had the cheese enchiladas. The servings were generous with sides of beans and rice.
“I could eat this kind of food every night for dinner,” she said.
“I like it, but I’m not sure I’d want it every single night.”
“So, what’s your very favorite go-to food?”
“A good steak,” he answered immediately. “With a baked potato on the side. Now that I could eat almost every night.”
“Butter and sour cream?”
He grinned at her. “Absolutely.”
“Do you cook?” she asked him curiously. He couldn’t be as perfect as he appeared.
“I can cook enough to stay alive,” he replied. “But I certainly don’t try anything too fancy. What about you?”
“Same, although I have to confess I prefer things that go from carton to microwave. It’s always seemed like too big a hassle to cook for just one.”
“I guess I should have asked you before, but you don’t have a significant other?” Once again his eyes gazed at her intently, as if she were the most fascinating creature on the face of the earth.
“Yes, I have a significant other. It’s my work. I can’t remember the last time I went out on a date. That’s why this is so nice. I mean, not that this is a real date or anything like that,” she hurriedly added as a blush warmed her cheeks.
A small frown cut across his forehead. “No, this isn’t a date. I don’t date. I have no interest in having a relationship.”
She wanted to ask him why he didn’t want to have a relationship and why he’d invited her out to dinner. But his eyes suddenly appeared dark and shuttered, definitely not inviting any further questions on the topic.
“The one thing I do miss about having somebody in my life is that I have never really enjoyed eating alone,” she finally said.
“I’m the same way and that’s why I invited you out. I like a good meal, but it’s even better if you have good company.”
She smiled at him, grateful to see that the darkness that had been in his eyes momentarily was no longer there. “At least you consider me good company.”
He returned her smile. “I can’t imagine anyone considering you bad company.”
A wave of warmth rushed through her. Jeez, what was wrong with her? Why did she want to get to know him better not as a story, but rather as a man? Why on earth did his smile, his intent gaze, make her heart skip a beat?
Loneliness. The word leaped into her head as she took another bite of her enchilada. Most of the time she kept busy enough she didn’t have time to feel lonely.
But there were times, like when she saw a gorgeous sunset or thought of something funny or was just sitting alone in her living room, when a hollow wind of loneliness blew through her.
But she didn’t intend to do anything about it. Work first; there would always be time for a meaningful relationship after she had firmly established herself as a real success.
“I’ve refilled my surveillance bag for tonight,” she said. “It now has corn nuts, potato chips and peanuts in it just for you.”
Once again, he smiled. “You didn’t have to do that. Did you also add some sweet stuff for you?”
“Definitely. I’ve been trying to quit chewing on my fingernails so I always have a bag of candy or packs of gum around the house.”
“Is that helping?”
“Not really,” she replied with frustration. “Most of the time I’m not even aware that I’m chewing on them.”
“Haven’t I heard something about putting hot sauce on your nails?”
She smiled. “Yes, I’ve heard that, too. The problem is I really love hot sauce so it wouldn’t be a deterrent to me.” She then frowned. “Is it just my imagination or is it getting a little smoky in here?”
“Now that you mention it, it is. They must have burned something in the kitchen.”
“At least we know it isn’t our dinners burning back there,” she replied. “How is your burrito?”
“Absolutely delicious. What about your enchiladas?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever had a bad cheese enchilada,” she replied. “These a
re wonderful.”
“What other kind of Mexican food do you like?”
“Anything on the menu,” she replied with a laugh.
The words had just left her mouth when shouts could be heard coming from the kitchen. The mood of the dining room changed, quieting as the shouts from the back got louder and more frantic.
Several men wearing white aprons ran from the kitchen and into the dining room. “Fire,” one of them yelled.
“El incendio,” another man shouted.
Panic ensued. Diners got out of their seats and pushed and shoved one another toward the entrance. There was an exit door two booths down from where she and Jake were seated. It was closer to the kitchen area, but easier than battling the rest of the people headed toward the main entrance.
They got up and Jake guided her toward that door. They weren’t alone. Several others also headed in that direction.
The smoke grew thicker and heat radiated from the kitchen. They reached the door and Jake pushed on it. Apparently, it was locked, because it didn’t open. However, the people behind them didn’t seem to realize it. They pushed and shoved, getting more frantic.
As people pressed against her, panic crawled up the back of her throat. If the smoke and fire didn’t get them, then they were going to be crushed to death in the panic.
“Let us out, man,” a male voice yelled from behind them.
“It’s locked,” Jake yelled back. “The door is locked. We can’t get out this way.”
The heat from the kitchen grew more intense and still people pushed and shoved. Finally, the group at the exit door realized it was no way out and turned to head toward the main entrance. Jake threw his arm around her and pulled her close to his side as they also made for the entrance.
When they finally got outside two fire trucks, three police cars and several news vans had arrived. Everyone who had been in the building stood around, as if unsure what they should do.
Light bulbs flashed as photos were taken, microphones were shoved in people’s faces and two ambulances roared into the parking lot with sirens screaming.
Desperate Measures Page 5