by J. E. Taylor
Silence filled the room and she reached for him.
“I don’t need your pity.” Randy shook her hand off.
“I never thought you were a heartless bastard. Opportunistic, maybe, but never heartless.”
Randy glanced back at her. “Opportunistic?” He raised his eyebrows.
Carolyn nodded. “You are.”
The edge of humor glimmered in his eyes and he turned his attention to the shattered glass, crossing the room to clean up the shards. Carolyn crouched next to him helping clean up the mess he made. As he soaked up the beer in a towel, he glanced at her. “You really want to move in with me?”
After all that transpired, she hesitated a moment before meeting his gaze. “Yes, I do, but only if you want me here.”
“I want you here,” Randy said and flipped the towel and pressed it into the carpet. “I’m sorry for being such an ass. I’m just a little on edge.”
Chapter 25
Randy reached for another piece of pizza, waiting for Carolyn to finish packing some of her clothing. She insisted on being home when Olivia arrived so she could let her know about the change in living arrangements.
He took a bite and the door swung open, Olivia and her grand entrances amused him and he nodded hello in lieu of greeting her with a mouthful of pizza.
“What happened to you?” She pointed at his right eye.
“Carolyn slugged me,” he offered with a barely concealed smirk.
Olivia’s mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. “She did not!”
Randy chuckled at her expression. “Ask her yourself,” he said pointing toward the bedroom and perpetuating the joke.
“Carolyn, darling, did you beat your boyfriend?” Olivia yelled toward the bedrooms.
Carolyn’s head popped out into the hallway. “What?”
“Did you punch Randy?”
“No,” she said and sent him her quizzical look, complete with the scrunched eyebrows he adored.
Olivia shot a glare in Randy’s direction, her hands landing on her hips with authority. “That was bad.”
“I had you going there for a second,” he said before he took another bite of pizza and waved toward the pie in a silent offer to Olivia.
Her lips quivered in the attempt to suppress the smile, but they lost the battle and a hint of white teeth flashed in his direction. “Yes, you did. What’s Carolyn up to?”
“Packing,” Randy said around a mouthful of pizza.
Olivia took a seat opposite Randy and helped herself to a piece of pizza. “She finally said yes?”
Randy nodded. “It took some convincing, but yes, she finally agreed.”
“So when’s the wedding?” Olivia asked with a wink.
Randy laughed and glanced down the hall to make sure Carolyn wasn’t within earshot. “Like she’d ever agree to that.”
“Have you asked?”
Instead of answering the direct question, Randy diverted the conversation. “How’d the painting thing go today?”
Olivia brightened up. “Fabulous! Damon wants to paint Carolyn too. He told me he would showcase my painting at his art show if I could get her to sit for him.”
“Really?” Randy raised his eyebrow, contemplating the idea and finding he liked it. Carolyn came in and dropped her bag by the door. “Olivia tells me the painter wants to do a portrait of you. I’ve got an empty wall in my office and I think that would be the perfect Christmas gift.”
“Wow, real subtle hint,” she said and took a seat next to him, digging into the pizza.
“Damon said if I could convince you, he’d showcase my painting at his art show.”
Carolyn’s brow furrowed. “You’re kidding.”
“I think he wants to do a nude portrait of you,” Olivia announced.
“Over my dead body.” Randy wiped his lips with a napkin, trading glances between Olivia and Carolyn. “What? I don’t want anyone else seeing my girlfriend naked. Sue me.” He stood, taking his plate into the kitchen.
“Wow, he’s got a jealous streak,” Olivia laughed.
“Yeah, I’ve noticed.” Carolyn nodded. “I’ll give Damon a call on Monday,” she whispered to Olivia.
“I heard that,” Randy said from the kitchen doorway.
Carolyn smiled. “I promise not to take all my clothes off.”
With a smirk, Randy asked, “You about ready to go?”
Carolyn nodded and turned to Olivia. “I told Randy that I’d move in with him.”
“So he told me,” Olivia grinned, exchanging a quick glance with Randy.
Randy approached Carolyn and put his hands on her shoulders. “She asked what you were doing, so I told her.”
“Ah,” Carolyn said and sighed, looking between Olivia and Randy, her mouth opening to speak, but closing after a second or two.
“I told you before, it’s not a big deal,” Olivia said, standing and offering Carolyn a hug. “You’re doing the right thing. This guy’s a keeper.”
“Thanks, Olivia.” Carolyn pulled away and glanced at the furnishings, her brow scrunching into worry lines. “I have no idea what I’m going to do with all my stuff.”
“It’s ok, there’s no rush, we’ll figure out where everything goes later,” Randy whispered in her ear and kissed her cheek before ushering her out the door.
Chapter 26
I paced back and forth, muttering under my breath in my empty room. I never expected to see her in Greenwich Village of all places, especially after last night. The papers said she died, but there she was in the flesh, again.
She didn’t even recognize me. Her eyes just passed over me as she scanned the crowd like I didn’t even exist. But when she saw me last night, in the instant I brought the blade out, she knew exactly who I was and she fought back.
I need a different approach.
The thought thrilled me, sending a pleasant tingling sensation through my body. Betrayal had set this chain off, a vendetta as alive and deadly as a coiled cobra ready to strike, but I couldn’t seem to kill the bitch.
Never in my wildest dreams did I consider she might be timeless, immune to death.
Hell, I should have known. She hasn’t aged a day in all these years. Damn it, I should have known.
The next thought that popped into my head nearly caused it to explode. Bright flares of light filled my vision and the sound of my blood rushing filled my ears. Excited, I pondered. Perhaps I need to separate her head from her body, leaving each part in a different place.
Now that was an idea I hadn’t considered. It certainly would explain why she hadn’t died, even when I decapitated her.
Chapter 27
Carolyn sat in her office reviewing her case files, refreshed from a nightmare free weekend and a leisurely stroll from Randy’s apartment. Randy deposited her at the door to City Hall with a kiss before he disappeared in the direction of Wall Street, leaving her in a jubilant mood despite the files before her.
Jim poked his head in the door and Carolyn shot him a genuine smile. “I haven’t seen you smile like that in ages, what’s up?” He took a seat on the edge of her desk.
“I moved in with Randy.”
Jim’s smile faltered, or so Carolyn thought. It returned to full form in a blink of her long eyelashes. “That’s great. What changed your mind?”
Carolyn bit her lower lip and tilted her head. “Actually, you did,” she said as she rocked back in her chair.
“Moi?” Jim laughed.
“Yes, you. Are we going for coffee this morning?” Carolyn went to stand, but Jim shook his head.
“No, I’ve got some more information on that case.” He slid off the desk and took a seat in the chair across from her. He studied Carolyn and took a deep breath. “Are you ready to try a murder case?”
Murder? Carolyn’s eyebrows shot up and her gaze snapped to the case file in front of her concentrating on Jim and his train of thought. “He killed his uncle?”
“Apparently.”
Carolyn met his
blatant stare. “You want me to try the child for murder?”
Jim nodded.
She stood, turning toward the window. Any hint of the morning jubilation evaporated with his affirmation. The contents of the file ran through her mind like a violent winter storm, raging and blowing facts around in a swirl of white noise. “What happened?”
“He attacked his uncle while the man slept, chopped him up with a meat cleaver.”
This was the one time Carolyn wished Jim sugar coated things. She turned, waving at the case file. “There are extenuating circumstances with this case.”
“It was premeditated and the aunt wants the boy put away.”
Carolyn shook her head, “I’m not interested in prosecuting this one. If you want to, be my guest, but I don’t want anything to do with it.” She closed the file and extended the documents to him.
Jim ripped the file out of her hand and crossed to the door. He paused. “You work for me Carolyn; if I assign the case to you, you will prosecute to the full extent of the law, understand?”
Carolyn crossed her arms and met his glare.
Jim turned, facing her with a hard and unyielding gaze. “Understand?”
“If you put me on this case, I’ll hand in my resignation.”
Jim’s face transitioned to the color of beets and he spun, storming out of her office with the file in his hand.
Carolyn sat, staring at the spot her boss had just occupied. He didn’t want to try the case either, but he was getting pressure from the Mayor and Carolyn couldn’t glean why. She sighed and headed out, grabbing two coffees from the Starbucks across the street.
On the sidewalk, her focus tilted and she froze. A blink and her vision filled with her image, pale and gripping coffee cups outside the green, white, and black Starbucks sign. Another blink and the world swarmed into the view of the busy morning crowd hustling on the street in front of her.
The killer was here. Now.
A chill ran the length of her spine and she scanned the crowd, a few pair of eyes focused in her direction but none of them resonated as a killer in disguise.
Chapter 28
I stopped in the crowd—there she was holding a couple of cups of java—and a strange sensation filled me, tingling. The same sensation I had when I saw her on the steps the other day. The need to rush forward and kill her in broad daylight overtook me again.
I turned away, heading in the opposite direction, not ready to act on my impulse. That would come in time and I would be ready.
Chapter 29
Carolyn raced back to City Hall, determined not to spill the coffee she carried in her shaking hands. With her head down, concentrating on every step, she nearly mowed over Trent as she took the turn heading up the steps. Startled, one of the coffee cups slipped from her grip, splashing all over her sandaled foot. Sudden scalding pain encompassed her foot and her breath hitched. She squeezed the second cup so hard the top popped and the hot liquid jumped out onto her hand. Reflex took over and the second cup followed the path of the first—but this time, Carolyn jumped out of the way before the coffee splashed her other foot.
Trent skidded out of the way of the hot liquid. “Jesus! Carolyn, are you okay?”
Carolyn clenched her lips together, willing herself to breathe through the pain. The skin on her right foot turned an angry red, equaling the throbbing agony gripping her. She gave a slight nod and glanced at the mess at the foot of the stairs. Her morning coffee littered the pavement.
“At least let me buy you a new coffee…” Trent said.
Carolyn met his concerned gaze. “Don’t worry about it,” she said with a raspy voice no louder than a whisper and hobbled up the stairs, each step reminding her how hot Starbucks coffee really is.
“Seriously, what were you drinking?”
With the way the morning was turning out, Carolyn could use a coffee and she paused, half turning toward Trent. “Mocha latte,” she said, “and can you get me a bag of ice please?”
Trent glanced at her foot and nodded, taking the corner she had popped out from moments before.
Carolyn hobbled to her office and peeled the sandal off her foot. A throat cleared behind her, setting her heart into overdrive and she jumped, spinning in the direction of the sitting area. Lounging on her couch was a sharp-eyed federal agent. He stood and approached Carolyn, extending his hand, appraising her in a way that made her shift under his stare.
“Special Agent Steve Williams,” he said with a firm, one pump handshake.
Heat rose in Carolyn’s cheeks. “Carolyn Hastings, Assistant District Attorney,” she introduced herself out of habit and offered a strained smile. His face seemed familiar and then the rush of facts flooded into her memory. She had seen his face in relation to the Slasher case, and more recently, associated with a serial killer case in Georgia that gained national attention.
“Burned your foot pretty good there.” Agent Williams pointed to the angry crimson tone of her skin.
Carolyn glanced at her foot and back at his frank expression. She tried scanning his mind but all that returned was a static wave, like when a radio station fades out, instead of the usual silence she encountered from time to time. Narrowing her eyes, she studied him further. “How do you figure that?”
Agent Williams flashed a smile that under normal circumstances would have made her knees weak, but she was too tense to fall for his good looks and charming smile. “Educated guess,” he said.
“Good to know your observation skills haven’t gone soft over the years,” she said and smiled at his raised eyebrows. “The Slasher case. You did a brilliant job bagging Kyle Winslow, and an even more exceptional job shutting down our extradition requests.”
A slight tint of pink entered his cheeks and dimples appeared for a moment. “New York no longer has a death penalty. New Hampshire does, and Kyle Winslow deserves to be on death row.” A shadow passed over his face and any hint of a smile faded. The darkness in his gaze sent a chill through her like the winter wind whipping down Broadway in the middle of January.
“I assume you’re here regarding our newest menace?”
He steepled his fingers and sent a slight nod in her direction.
“I can show you to Jim Britt’s office. He…”
“I’m not here to see the district attorney. I’m here to see you.”
The phone call. Shit.
His eyes narrowed like he heard her thoughts and he pursed his lips. He used the silence as an uncomfortable weapon and she couldn’t help but shift in her chair under his intense gaze. Unnerved, sweat lined her palms and she pressed them to her thighs, pretending to smooth the creases in her skirt. “Excuse me, but is there a purpose to this visit?” She uncrossed her legs and sat straight in the chair.
“As a matter of fact…” he said and glanced at the door, putting his index finger in the air to halt the conversation. As if on cue, Trent walked in with her new mocha latte.
“I’m sorry; I didn’t know you had someone in your office.” Trent handed her the coffee, giving the FBI agent the once over, sizing him up. “Trent Kaplan.” He extended his hand.
“Special Agent Williams.” He accepted the cordial gesture with a quick shake.
“FBI?”
Agent Williams nodded.
Trent shifted, his eyes darting between Carolyn and the agent.
When he showed no signs of gracefully exiting the room, Carolyn interceded. “Thank you for getting me this. You didn’t have to.”
Trent blushed, his gaze landing on her chest for a fraction of an instant before returning to her face. “I didn’t mind. Is your foot all right?” He pointed to the scalded skin.
“Yes, thanks for asking. Can we catch up later?” She offered her most embarrassed smile.
Trent nodded and with another quick glance at the FBI agent, he started toward the door.
“And can you close the door behind you?”
Trent slunk out of the room and cast a worried glance over his shoulder just b
efore the door latched.
Carolyn turned toward Agent Williams, thankful that Trent’s interruption gave her time to regain her composure. “Now, back to the purpose of your visit,” she said.
Agent Williams stood, crossing to the window overlooking the street. “I’m here because of the phone call you made to nine-one-one the other night.”
Carolyn stiffened in the chair. How? She couldn’t voice the words, they stuck in her throat.
“An unlisted cell number is still traceable. The only ones that are a bitch to nail down are prepaid phones.” He turned, the hint of a smile toying with her as he leaned against the windowsill crossing his arms. “Can you tell me exactly what you were doing in Central Park in the middle of the night?”
“I, uh, I wasn’t in the park.”
Agent Williams eyebrows arched and his arms uncrossed. “Really.” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “Then how did you know about the murder?”
Carolyn shifted in her seat, glancing at her now tightly clenched hands. How in the world am I going to explain this? She raised her eyes to his bright blue ones and sighed. “I know this sounds crazy, but I dreamt about it. I thought maybe…”
The muscles in Steve’s face loosened, softening both his supple lips and his hard eyes. “You thought you could stop it.” He finished her sentence and crossed to the seat, falling in the chair. Spinning the wedding ring on his finger, his brow creased and he glanced back at her, offering a welcoming smile. “My wife has similar… gifts.”
Is he toying with me?
“No. I’m not.”
“You’re not what?” she asked, ignoring the caution flags waving in her brain. There was something about his manner, his probing eyes, like he could see inside her soul plucking out her deepest secrets.
“I’m not toying with you.”