Turning around, she settled on the couch, tucking her feet under her. Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes. Gillian knew she shouldn’t give in to the weakness, but it felt awfully good not to be on her own. The threat didn’t seem as close with someone to share the worry.
Brad joined her and for a brief moment she was transported back in time. They’d spent many evenings in front of a warm fire, listening to music, simply enjoying each other. Their careers had meant long hours, but they’d always reserved time for themselves.
“Are you warm all the way through yet?” Brad asked quietly.
She considered gliding past the truth but couldn’t bring herself to do so. “Yes. All the way.” Inclining her head, she read the question in his eyes. But she didn’t dare consider replying. Her gaze moved to his mouth, and the memory of how it felt against hers came to her.
Part of her wanted to forget the breakup, just seize the night and disregard the consequences. That had her stirring, then sliding away from him.
“Do you think you can sleep?” Brad asked, his voice gruff.
Nodding, Gillian rose.
Brad walked toward the bedroom. In a few minutes he returned with sheets, blankets and a pillow.
She reached for a sheet. “Let me help.”
One eyebrow lifted. It was an unconsciously seductive gesture that shot straight through her.
She focused her attention on the bed linen. Together they made up the couch. “This looks real comfy.”
“I hope so.” Brad picked up the pillow and bunched it up.
Gillian remembered the habit. Funny he should do it to her pillow.
“Do you need anything else?” Brad asked.
She glanced at the couch. “No, this looks great.”
“It’s not for you, Gillian. I’ll take the couch. You can have the bedroom.”
It was such a sweet gesture, she didn’t know what to say.
Brad turned back the covers on the couch. “This way we’ll both get a good night’s sleep. You know I can fall asleep practically standing up and you’re a light sleeper.”
She glanced down at her toes, flushing at the reminder of the intimacy they’d once shared.
Once in the bedroom she decided it wasn’t such a terrible thing to be a princess. And, just for the moment, she could pretend that he was her prince.
CHAPTER EIGHT
YAWNING, GILLIAN STRETCHED, covering her eyes as the sunlight struck them. Turning over to bury her head beneath the pillow, she wondered why she’d forgotten to close the shutters in her bedroom.
Memory returned, fast and unrelenting. Swiftly she bounded upright and off the bed. A glance at the clock told her she was later than she wanted to be.
Pulling on her robe, she dashed out of the bedroom. The aroma of fresh coffee struck her as she entered the kitchen.
“Morning,” Brad greeted her.
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
“You needed the rest.”
He’d always thought he’d known what was best for her. From inconsequential daily matters to the career she’d chosen. “Even so—”
“You forget you don’t have your usual commute. We’re only a few minutes from the precinct. I was just waiting for the coffee to finish brewing and then I was going to wake you up.”
Slightly deflated, she pushed back at her rumpled hair. “Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.”
He handed her a mug of steaming coffee. “So, how did you sleep?”
“Really well.” Much better than she’d expected. She’d felt warm and protected. And, despite all that had happened, sleep hadn’t eluded her.
“Do you want some toast or something?”
“I’d better finish my coffee and get ready.” Gillian took another sip of the aromatic brew. “You can take your shower first if you’d like.” It was the routine they’d had when they were married.
“Okay. Won’t take me long.”
Gillian knew that but didn’t comment. It was already seeming too familiar.
Her cell phone rang. Gillian was surprised to hear Vicki Campbell’s voice. She was even more surprised and pleased that the detective had news. Promising to be in the office soon, she flipped the phone closed. “That was Vicki. There’s been a sighting at the carnival. Someone suspicious watching young kids.”
He was suddenly all business. “I’ll make my shower quick so we can get on it.”
Gillian thought about the possible lead as he disappeared into the bathroom. Realizing she needed paper to record some of the details, she chanced going into the bedroom to retrieve a pad from her suitcase.
She had the lid of the suitcase open when Brad emerged from the bathroom. Although he had a towel tied around his waist, she had an unobstructed view of the rest of his body. His shoulders were wide, his waist narrow and the remainder lean muscle—just the way she remembered him.
Throat dry, Gillian could imagine flinging herself against him. “S-sorry,” she stuttered. “I needed to get my notebook. I thought you’d be in the shower.”
“No damage down,” he replied calmly.
Maybe not to him. “No, of course not. I’ll just get my notepad.” Suddenly she was all thumbs as she tried to pull it from her bag. It didn’t help that he watched her clumsy efforts. As soon as the pad was free, Gillian raced from the bedroom.
Once back in the living room, she fanned her flushed face. Deciding she was being ridiculous, Gillian sat at the counter and forced herself to make notes about the assignment. She planned to have the detectives look into the route the carnival had taken and whether there had been any related crimes in those towns. They would also need to conduct background checks on the carnival employees. The suspect didn’t seem to work there, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t found an accomplice. By the time Brad emerged from the bedroom, dressed for the day, she had regained her calm.
“Bathroom’s all yours.”
Gillian made her shower quick, dried her hair and dressed.
As they drove, Gillian filled him in on her plans.
Brad turned on the main arterial road leading to the station, merging into the already thick traffic. “What do we know about the suspect?”
“Nothing yet. And it may not pan out. People get skittish, turn in everyone but their grandmother when they’re afraid a crime has gotten too close to home.”
He glanced over at her and she realized he knew the drill as well as she did. “Sorry. My mind’s just full. It’s time we got a break. And yet I don’t want to count on this one. This has been one of the hardest investigations I’ve ever been on. It’s hard to believe two children can disappear and not one person see anything.”
“You’ve done your best.”
“I know. Procedures were flawless, but we’ve still come up empty.”
“It’s not a personal shortcoming, Gillian. You can’t conjure up evidence if it doesn’t exist.”
“I feel like I’m letting Katie down, that she’s counting on us for a miracle.” The same miracle she wished for the Mitchells.
They had arrived at the precinct parking lot. Promising to reach him on his cell as soon as possible, Gillian left Brad and headed into the station.
The detectives began to filter in one at a time after Gillian was settled in her office. There was contagious excitement in the air as they learned of the possible break in the case.
According to the report, the suspect hadn’t done anything other than watch. But one of the parents attending the carnival had become suspicious and alerted the police. Chances were the uniformed officers that responded scared off the suspect. However, the parent had been able to give a good description to the sketch artist. Flyers had already been distributed.
Seeing Vicki in the squad room, Gillian waved her inside. “Just who I was looking for. I’d like you to conduct the background checks on all carnival employees.”
“Got it.” She stepped toward the door, then turned back, looking pensive. “Gillian, you aren’t planning to be a he
ro, are you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Carnival surveillance. You didn’t partner yourself with one of us, and Savino says he’s assigned to stay here.”
“Not counting my partner, there are five of us. No matter how you split that it comes out uneven.”
“Are you going to take a uniform or someone from the bureau?” Vicki countered, looking worried.
“I’ll have someone with me. I promise.”
“Good. I’ve worked with hero types before and it’s damn scary.”
“Brad,” Gillian guessed instantly.
“I don’t know how you figured that out, but you’re right. He’s a great guy but it nearly gave me a stroke.”
“Not my style,” Gillian assured her.
After the detective left, Gillian remembered some of her earlier bureau days, ones in which she had still been with Brad. She’d been involved in a chilling case. Another agent’s wife and child were killed out of revenge. Fearing as he had all along that Gillian, too, would be hurt, Brad demanded that she quit her job.
Knowing the scars Brad had, she’d tried to be patient and understanding, but she simply couldn’t cope with his total inflexibility. Especially when he wouldn’t consider giving up his own job. He had refused to see the connection. She doubted he would even now. Time to find their victims was evaporating. And she didn’t want Brad to repeat the renegade behavior that had got him banned from the case.
Knowing he was waiting for her call, Gillian reluctantly picked up her phone, arranging to meet Brad at the carnival at three. She just hoped it wasn’t a mistake.
BRAD HAD TAKEN CARE selecting his disguise. He knew he had to do more than simply blend in the crowd. He had to fool his fellow detectives, some of whom were also his friends. Even though most of them wouldn’t want to report his activities, he couldn’t put them in that position.
Brad rechecked his fake facial hair. He’d purchased good-quality theatrical props. While he wanted to remain unrecognized, he also didn’t want to resemble a suspicious character. The well-trimmed beard and mustache looked neat while covering a good part of his face. He’d chosen a Houston Astros ball cap, knowing he wouldn’t be the only person at the carnival wearing one. Sunglasses wouldn’t be questioned in the bright sunlight. And his jeans were unremarkable, as was the baggy T-shirt that hid his true physique.
As he watched for Gillian, Brad realized he was looking forward to seeing her in something other than her professional clothes. He certainly hadn’t minded the gown and robe she’d worn the previous evening. But he sensed that she had.
Gillian continued to be tense and jumpy around him. He hated that they were now polite strangers. How had it all gotten away from them? Should he have given in to her desire to have a baby? A shaft of familiar pain told him the answer. It wasn’t in him to chance suffering another loss.
But then nothing about Gillian had fallen within his self-imposed rules. He had meant to protect his heart completely. He’d never intended to fall in love with her, with anyone. But Gillian was…well, Gillian.
His Gilly Bean. Instantly he could remember the laughter, the love, his certainty that she was the only woman he would ever care for. But she’d been unwilling to bend. He had tried to convince her they could be happy on their own, that they didn’t need children to be content.
In the end all he could remember were her huge, sad eyes. They hadn’t fought, because there hadn’t been anything left to fight about.
Brad turned, spotting Gillian. Of course, she didn’t need the disguise he did; still, he could have picked her out if she’d worn one.
Watching her walk closer he felt her grip on his heart, the one that had never lessened. It continued despite how much he’d tried to forget her.
Here she was again, on the front lines. And he no longer had the right to question her decision.
One of the nearby barkers extolled the benefits of the shooting gallery, his voice loud and inescapable. But Brad welcomed the intrusion, wishing it would drown out his thoughts.
Gillian was almost at his side. He was about to reach out to catch her arm, when she stopped.
Brad glanced at his clothes. “My disguise that bad?”
Her eyes shifted away. “No. Just lots of practice. Have you spotted our suspect?”
“Not yet. I’m guessing he may be leery after the uniforms showed up last night.”
She glanced down the midway. “I wonder if he’ll show himself during the daytime either way.”
“Since someone caught on to him at night, he may choose the afternoon hours. Kids will come here after they leave school for the day.”
“Have you checked the layout?”
Brad shook his head. “Not yet. I’ve seen a few plainclothes officers.”
“We need to cover all the grounds,” Gillian replied. “I’ve seen photos, but I need to get a feel for the place.”
They began to walk the sticky pavement.
“I used to love these carnivals when I was a kid,” Brad admitted. That had been in the carefree days. After Amanda’s disappearance his parents had been too fearful to allow him to attend anything that could possibly be dangerous. It had been a smothering time in his life.
“Me, too,” Gillian agreed. “My parents would make Teri and my brothers bring me along. Naturally I did my best to torture them the entire time. They’d want to go through the tunnel of love with their dates, but it wasn’t quite as romantic with me sitting smack between two of them.”
Brad laughed at the image. “How’d I miss knowing you were the family tormentor?”
She shrugged. “I’ve always hated to brag.”
He looked at the smile that reached her eyes and realized how much he’d missed these easy exchanges. She had an unparalleled gift for finding the most joy in every moment.
Gillian snagged his arm. “Look at that alley. Good place for a watcher.”
Brad felt an unexpected prickle at the base of his neck, the same one he’d felt when entering Gillian’s apartment. It wasn’t fear—that he recognized. Adrenaline always accompanied dangerous situations, but this was different. Immediately, he reached out, holding Gillian back when she would have plunged forward.
“What is it?”
“I’m not sure. Just a feeling.”
She was immediately on guard, her voice low as she, too, scanned the area. “I don’t see anything.”
As they continued forward, Brad questioned whether or not his protective feelings for Gillian were affecting his instincts. He didn’t see anything out of place, and although the cautionary prickle remained, he could see no physical reason for it.
“I don’t see anyone.”
Brad remained vigilant as they passed through the alley, looking back over his shoulder.
“What is it?” Gillian questioned. “Do you see something?”
“No.”
“Still have a feeling, though?”
“My instincts may be skewed,” he admitted.
“Any special reason why?”
He stared into her eyes and knew there was no answer. At least none he could give her. Instead he shrugged. “Nothing I can put into words.”
“Hmm.”
He wondered what was going on in that quick mind of hers. “What is it?”
“It’s silly. Just thinking back on the days when a carnival was just a carnival—all childish fun, no worries or fears.” She rubbed crossed arms. “Now it has a malevolent aura.”
He looked at her in surprise. “That’s what you feel?”
“It’s nothing tangible. Just something about the place that doesn’t seem right.”
“Well, if a pedophile is being harbored here, that could account for it.” Brad wondered as he spoke if that was the reason for his own uneasy feeling. He glanced back again toward the alley, but it remained unchanged.
They continued walking through the grounds. The carnival was still sparsely populated, which made it easy to check out. The fortune-t
eller watched them suspiciously as they passed.
“She probably knows exactly who comes and goes here,” Gillian commented.
Brad glanced at the woman. “And it doesn’t look like she wants to share.”
“Maybe it’s part of the act.”
“Could be. Or she could know something.”
“It’s a relatively small group of employees,” Gillian replied. “Seems logical that they’d all know one another pretty well.”
“I’m guessing some of them must be drifters who don’t stick with the carnival for long.”
“Probably.” They reached the Ferris wheel and Gillian looked upward. “We can get a bird’s-eye view of the grounds from here, see if there are any other spots our guy might favor.”
Liking the way her mind worked, he agreed they should ride the tall Ferris wheel.
As the steel cages rose in the air, they swung gently. Swaying in unison with her, Brad sneaked a look at Gillian. The breeze sent tendrils of hair across her cheeks. She caught her hair, peeling back a few strands that clung to her lips.
Brad couldn’t stop looking at her mouth. Sitting close enough to simply lower his mouth to hers was more unsettling than he expected.
She didn’t seem to notice his dilemma, instead she studied the grounds.
Brad told himself that he couldn’t become distracted. This case was too important, the young victims were counting on him. He knew that as surely as he sat next to the woman he still loved.
And as surely as that would forever go unspoken.
CHAPTER NINE
AS AFTERNOON TURNED to evening, they still hadn’t spotted the suspect. After school ended for the day, children had begun trickling in. And as the sun started to slowly sink, the crowd increased. Gillian wondered if Brad was right, if the suspect had been frightened away.
From a discreet distance, they watched one of the rides that carried passengers into a dark, cavelike interior. A quartet of children about the age of their victims crowded into one of the cars.
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