Never Alone (43 Light Street)

by Rebecca York

  “Beth, he’s worried. And nervous and scared.”

  “Scared about what—my safety?”

  “Your safety, of course.” Jo paused. “And scared that he’s dared to take the step of asking you to marry him. From his point of view, given his background, he’s probably worried that you’ll back out.”

  “I should.”

  “Don’t!”

  “I’ll take that under advisement.” Because she didn’t want Jo to see the tears in her eyes, Beth turned and walked down one of the garden paths—and ended up at the swimming pool.

  She stopped short as she saw the blue water surrounded by a curving band of concrete. It was much like the pool from Cal’s dream, only now it sat placidly in the warm sunshine.

  Mutely, Beth stared at it, then walked toward the cabana. There was no bed inside, only a rattan sofa, and table and chairs with bright cushions.

  She let her eyes drift out of focus, conjuring up the bed, remembering how it had been with him that night and wondering if anything in life could match the magic of their dream lovemaking. Had it all been an illusion? Or was it real on some basic level that they just couldn’t reach at the moment because they didn’t know how to communicate with each other?

  She longed to know the truth. Longed to know if she was making the worst mistake of her life. But there was no way to answer the question—not without Cal. And he had shut himself away from her.

  She closed her eyes, trying to put the worry out of her mind, because she had something important to do. An experiment.

  Since the hospital, her psychic powers had simply been gone. Could she call them back and make them work again? Did she want them back?

  She’d thought that the biggest relief of her life would be if she could make them go away. Now everything was different. Now she needed those powers and they had deserted her.

  Relaxing against the chair cushions, she tried to breathe deeply and evenly, tried to let her mind drift. Not so long ago, she’d felt the killer’s touch, felt his hands on her body.

  The memory brought a deep shudder, but she forced herself not to run away now. She’d been in contact with him once so she ought to be able to do it again, she told herself as she struggled to reach out to him with her mind and come up with some clue that would help Cal figure out who he was.

  Maybe she could even find out his name.

  Sweat beaded on her forehead and her head began to pound. But that was all. There were no flashes of intuition, no link, no sudden feeling of connection.

  Nothing. Just an awful and final blankness.

  Her psychic ability had vanished. And there was nothing she could do about it—just as there’d been nothing she could do about it when the power had taken over her mind bringing her pain and heartache.

  CAL SAT before the computer screen, scrolling through the names of Beth’s former classmates. He wanted to go ahead and eliminate the females, but that could be a mistake. Although it was unlikely that the killer was a woman, it was possible.

  It was also possible that one of his earlier theories was true—that it wasn’t actually somebody in the class.

  That widened the search a hell of a lot. It could be somebody from a rival school, for all he knew. But in the next two days, he wasn’t going to get very far with that line of thinking. And he wasn’t going to be reassigned to the case by Patterson, so the best he could do was work with the list he had.

  Five hours later, he rubbed his bleary eyes, stood up and stumbled into the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator, he grabbed a beer, popped the cap and gulped down half the bottle.

  Then, realizing he was hungry, he got out the half pizza he’d bought two days ago and warmed it up in the microwave.

  He thought about going back to the computer. That way he didn’t have to think about the look on Beth’s face when he’d left her at Jo’s.

  She’d wanted him to hold her, comfort her. He knew that with gut-wrenching certainty. And he’d wanted to put his arms around her so badly that his insides had been raw. But he’d been afraid that if he embraced her, he’d start to shake. So his only alternative had been turning and leaving.

  Now he wrapped his fingers around the cold beer bottle, squeezing until he could steady himself. He didn’t like being so scared for Beth that he could hardly think. And he didn’t like being so scared she’d change her mind about marrying him that he could barely breathe.

  With a grimace, he picked up the pizza and walked back to the computer, because the only way he could deal with both of his problems was to work until his brain was too numb to function.

  OUT IN THE DARKNESS, Damien watched the lights go out in the room that police detective Cal Rollins used as an office. He’d called information and requested the cop’s number, then he’d gotten the operator to read him the address by pretending he wasn’t sure if he had the right party.

  Now it was three in the morning. And the bastard had been in there at his computer screen for eleven hours.

  Probably he was too tired to see straight.

  “I hope you’ve worked yourself blind,” Damien muttered. “Why the hell don’t you go back to Beth and lead me to her? You’ve stashed her somewhere, damn you. Just give me a hint, and I’ll take her off your hands.”

  CAL HAD SET the alarm for eight. Five hours’ sleep was enough to recharge his batteries, he thought as he stood under the shower’s needle spray.

  Cold needle spray. Because in the unguarded moment of transition from sleep to waking, he’d known how much he wanted Beth. Wanted her with a primitive desire that made it difficult for him to drag air into his lungs.

  Did you marry a woman because you lusted after her? Not just lust, he corrected himself. Need. Need that he didn’t dare articulate. All he knew was that since the dream when she’d come to him, when they’d made love, he’d craved that again. Craved it with his heart, with his soul. Every moment of that dream was burned into his brain, into every cell of his being.

  And that vulnerability to her was the most frightening thing that had ever happened in his life.

  No, scratch that.

  The most frightening thing was the fear that he would lose her to that bastard out there stalking her.

  That was enough to dampen his ardor.

  He was back at the computer with a mug of coffee in his hand by eight forty-five.

  Last night, he’d come up with fifteen guys he wanted to take a closer look at. Guys who weren’t married, hadn’t done much with their lives after high school, were in financial trouble or who’d gotten into scrapes with the law. He’d even investigated Wayne Jenkins and he could see why Patterson had liked him for the murders.

  But he’d been in jail at the time Harold Mason was killed. So that left him out.

  Cal’s prime candidate was a little dweeb named Dave Garwill. He couldn’t say why he liked the guy so much. Gut instinct, he supposed. The problem was, two years ago Dave Garwill had dropped off the face of the earth. There were no phone records for him, no credit card records. Even his driver’s license had expired.

  So where was he? Was he one of the victims? Or had he changed his name and gone underground so he could knock off his classmates?

  Picking up the phone, Cal called Alex Shane, the detective working the Mason murder. Alex wasn’t in, so he left a message, wondering if the guy would call him back or if he’d been put on notice by Ken Patterson that he was in big trouble if he dared to get in contact with Cal Rollins.

  Cal grimaced. It would be counterproductive for Patterson to turn away help from someone willing to work the case on his own time. But somewhere along the line, this thing with Patterson had gotten personal, and he had the feeling that the lieutenant would go against the good of the case just to make a point.

  AFTER TWO DAYS in the company of her down-to-earth hostess, Beth felt a lot more comfortable with Jo O’Malley. They’d talked to each other into the small hours of the morning for two nights now, trading confidences. She knew Jo had grown up poo
r in western Maryland. She hadn’t been born to wealth, and she was well able to understand Beth’s own background as the daughter of a Howard County farmer.

  Beth had even been able to talk about the paranormal stuff—the past pain, the present frustration.

  The late-night talks forged a bond between them. So it was a comfort that Jo was the one who drove her to the courthouse for the wedding ceremony.

  She was even more buoyed up when she saw Hannah, Lucas and Sam all waiting with Cal on the steps of the massive marble building. Then she saw a contingent of the men she’d met from the Randolph Security detail: Jed Prentiss, Jason Zacharias, Hunter Kelley.

  As soon as she spotted the security men, she realized that Cal hadn’t simply invited his friends to the wedding.

  They were here as protection.

  IN THE PARKING LOT up the hill, Damien let loose with a string of curses.

  “The place is crawling with security types,” he muttered. “Private cops. So they’re not wearing uniforms. So what? Anybody with a grain of sense can see who they are.”

  He’d been pretty excited for a couple of minutes. Finally, his surveillance had paid off. Cal had left the house this morning looking all spiffy in a blue blazer, rep tie and gray slacks. Then he’d headed for the courthouse.

  Two minutes after he’d met two men and a woman on the steps, Beth had shown up.

  And so had the security guys. Well, some of them had already been here, Damien realized.

  “Do you want to take a chance on staying?” he asked himself. “Or is it time to beat a strategic retreat? Too bad you can’t just drive by and shoot Rollins,” he muttered. “But that wouldn’t be too smart with all these bodyguards.”

  With an angry snarl, he drove out of the parking lot.

  Chapter Fourteen

  If the whole scene hadn’t been laced with overtones of a stalker movie, Beth might have found it amusing. She and Cal were the classic nervous bride and groom. Only they had more reason to be nervous than most: there was a killer closing in on her.

  At least Cal was convinced there was. So was Jo. She would be a fool not to accept their professional judgment. But did he really believe that she didn’t know the mysterious Harold Mason from the man in the moon? She couldn’t be sure he did, since he hadn’t said a thing to her about it since their drive from the farm to Jo’s.

  Putting those thoughts firmly out of her mind, she studied the groom. He was so handsome that she felt a rush of warmth and secret pride. Then she took a closer look at his face, noting the way his features were set in rigid lines.

  Looking away from him, she smoothed her hand down the skirt of the gauzy white dress she wore. She’d picked it from a selection Jo had had sent out from Nordstrom’s. It wasn’t the wedding dress she had dared to imagine in her girlish fantasies, but it was pretty. It looked good on her and she wished Cal had complimented her on it.

  But he said nothing.

  Sam broke the silence with a throat-clearing noise. “It’s time for the ceremony. We’d better go in.”

  She could still bail out, she told herself. Instead, she followed Cal into the room where civil ceremonies were held. It was decked out like an indoor garden with plastic grass on the floor and a white arched trellis.

  The judge got right to the service. Beth heard Cal say “I do” in all the right places. Then she did the same.

  Cal had bought her a gold ring, but she hadn’t gotten one for him because they hadn’t talked about rings. Or anything else, for that matter.

  Don’t think about that, she warned herself. Don’t think about what’s missing. Think about the good part. You’re marrying the man you love. And you’re going to show him how much a man and woman can give each other—if he’ll let you.

  The judge pronounced them man and wife.

  Cal leaned down and gave her a quick kiss on the lips before straightening. It was over almost before it started, and she wanted to grab his shoulders and hang on to him. But she allowed him to pull away.

  Because another ceremony was scheduled right after theirs, the group moved into the hall and stood around a little awkwardly, until Cal said that he and Beth needed to leave.

  The women kissed her cheek. So did the men, who also shook hands with Cal.

  Beth was reminded once again of the reason why they’d all come when they fanned out in the parking lot, some following her and Cal to the car so that there was no chance to say anything private to him.

  HE HAD DONE IT. Married Beth Wagner, Cal thought, feeling as if he’d just stepped off an amusement park thrill ride. His head was still spinning. Lucky the guys from Randolph Security were trailing him, because he wasn’t capable of protecting his bride at the moment.

  His bride.

  He flattened his sweaty palms against his sides. He still couldn’t believe he was hitched, not after all the lectures he’d gotten from Dad over the years about letting a woman hog-tie him.

  He couldn’t wrap his head around the reality. He could only respond to physical feelings. The feeling of wanting her, like an ache that gnawed at his vitals, and the tight, wary feeling in his chest that made it hard to draw a full breath.

  “Where are we going?” she asked. “Are you planning to drop me back at Jo’s house?”

  His head whipped toward her. “I’m not planning to drop you anywhere.”

  Unlocking the car, he undid the tie constricting his windpipe and tossed it in the back seat. He wanted to take off his damn blazer too, but that would leave him with a shoulder holster showing.

  “What about Granger?” Beth asked.

  “We’ll pick him up later.”

  “You’re sure Jo doesn’t mind taking care of him?”

  “No. I cleared it with her.”

  She didn’t say she wished he’d let her in on his plans, even though she had a right to complain about that. Instead, she silently got into his car. But he could see her fighting to relax as they headed down I70.

  He checked the rearview mirror. “This place where we’re going is safe. I wouldn’t take you there unless it was. I mean, it’s safe because nobody besides Randolph Security knows I booked us a room there. And nobody’s following us.”

  “I trust you,” she murmured.

  Trusted her safety to him? Or did she mean more than that? He wasn’t capable of asking. And there was no question of idle conversation. His mouth was too dry. So he drove at a steady pace into the mountains, checking to make sure they weren’t being followed by anyone but Randolph Security. After the Boonsboro exit, he slowed for a sign that said Wisteria Inn.

  He’d checked some guidebooks for out-of-the-way inns and gone to the Web sites of ones that sounded promising. After talking to the owner and renting a couple of cottages, he’d sent two of the Randolph men on ahead, just in case.

  The place lived up to the photographs he’d seen. He liked the beautifully restored Victorian house set on spacious grounds. After a quick stop at the office to get the key, he drove around to the cottage that he’d rented for them, which was surrounded by its own private garden. Did Beth think it was pretty? he wondered. Did she approve of his choice?

  His hands weren’t quite steady as he inserted the key in the lock, then stood aside as she walked into the small sitting room.

  Hell, was he supposed to carry her over the threshold? No. That was too much for a guy like him.

  “I’ve got some operatives from Randolph Security staying in another cottage. But they won’t bother us,” he said, hearing the stiffness in his voice.

  “Okay.” She was looking down at the tips of his dark shoes. Wedding shoes. Slowly she raised her face to his. “So now that we’ve established that we’re safe, is that the only reason you brought me here?”

  “No.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I wanted to be alone with you. Well, as alone as we could be.”

  “Then why did you leave me at Jo’s when I wanted you to be with me?” she whispered.

  “Because my computer’s at home.
I was researching the members of your class. I’ve eliminated ninety-five percent of them.”

  “Couldn’t you have brought the computer to Jo’s?”

  “No. I didn’t want any distractions.”

  He heard her voice hitch. “And you didn’t think I might worry that you were staying away because you’d decided to back out of the wedding?”

  All he could manage was a low sound in his throat as he reached for her and pulled her into his arms. As he held her, some of the terrible tension that had been building inside him seeped away.

  “If I’d been at Jo’s I wouldn’t have been working,” he whispered. “I would have been making love with you. And I told myself when I first met you that you weren’t the type of woman a man could make love with unless he…” His voice trailed off. Then he started again. “I didn’t exactly ask you to marry me,” he whispered. “It was more like an order, and I didn’t know if you’d start thinking it was a bad idea.”

  With a tiny sigh, she tipped her head up and looked at him. “I think a good rule of being married is that you talk to each other, so neither one of you is acting on assumptions that could be wrong.”

  “I don’t know much about wedded bliss. My mom didn’t stay around long enough for me to remember her face.”

  She moved her lips against the front of his shirt, and he could feel her trembling in his arms. “Cal, I know the idea of marriage scares you because of what happened with your father and mother.”

  He didn’t bother to deny it.

  “I know you’re thinking I agreed because I was looking for a bodyguard. But when I said I’d be your wife, I wasn’t thinking about your hanging around to protect me. I wasn’t thinking about something temporary. I don’t make life-changing decisions lightly. I said I’d marry you because I’ve fallen in love with you. Because I want to be with you—for keeps. If you think about how it was in the dream, you know that already.”

  The words stunned him. He longed to believe her, longed to believe she really knew what she wanted. “Yeah, the dream,” he managed to say, wondering if either one of them would be here if they hadn’t both dropped their guard in that world of unreality. Remembering it scared him because of the way he’d ached to feel that closeness with her again. But at the same time, he’d been secretly clinging to the memory. He realized now that it had given him the guts to make it this far.