by Penny Childs
“I’ll be upstairs getting my stuff,” she told him, not offering a tour.
Left alone, he wandered to the door at the back of the kitchen and looked out into a large backyard complete with a big red barn and a cement silo which had seen better days. From the front of the house he had not imagined how large an open space he would see back here.
He wandered from the kitchen to the living room, which was a wide open space with a couch, loveseat, recliner, television and stereo. Upon the hardwood floor lay a large braided rug. A pair of her socks lay discarded under the coffee table. He smiled, remembering how she liked to kick them off while sitting on the couch reading or watching television. That innocent little memory brought others back. Of her lying on her back, hair spread out on a pillow, her eyes filled with want. Of holding her, touching her, kissing her… He shook his head to clear it of those thoughts. She had made it perfectly clear she was not interested in resuming their relationship, letting these memories parade around in his head was just punishment.
The fireplace caught his attention, particularly the photos atop the mantle. He could hear her moving around over his head and found himself wondering what her bedroom looked like. He wondered if it was soft and feminine or just a plain, functional space that she used to sleep in.
Shaking that dangerous thought off, he returned his gaze to the mantel. The photos were of her brother Neil, her parents, and one of her on a horse holding a trophy. He picked that one up and looked at it, a smile on his face. He had often wondered what she had looked like as a teenager. She had been no less beautiful as a teen than she was now. Except now she was all woman, all curves and softness. The girl in the photo had not blossomed yet and her body language screamed tomboy.
“All right, let’s go,” she said, coming back down the steps carrying a duffle bag and a backpack. She had hurried, not liking the thought of him looking around. She didn’t want him thinking that he knew anything about her.
Setting the photo back on the mantle he pointed to the pictures of her parents and her brother. “How are they doing?” he asked, turning around. He had only met all of them once, at the hospital, and it had not been pleasant.
“They’re fine, Trevor. We should get moving.” She was mildly irritated that he kept trying to involve himself in her personal life. And he kept looking at her with those damn puppy dog eyes. Like he was wishing for something he could not have. She started heading for the front door and heard him following her.
“They still in Tennessee?”
“Yes, my parents are. My brother is in West Virginia.”
As they stepped back out onto the front porch and she locked the door, he asked, “A cop, right?”
“A state cop,” she said tersely, getting into the car.
“Is there a problem with making a little conversation?” he asked, climbing in beside her. “It’s going to be a long trip if we don’t talk at all.”
“It’s going to be a long trip anyway.” Starting the car, she pulled around the drive and headed back out the way they had come. “Just pick a different subject, okay?”
“Like what? The weather? Stocks? World affairs?” he asked sarcastically. Her attitude was starting to piss him off, which he guessed might be her intention.
“Take your pick.”
“What made you move here? To this town?” he asked, not relenting.
“Trevor…” she warned.
“C’mon. What the hell are you afraid of? That if we talk about anything personal you might find yourself not hating me as much anymore?”
Reaching up, she began to massage her forehead. Jesus, he just wouldn’t quit. “You’re making my head hurt, Trevor.”
“No, that hurt before you saw me today. Answer my question.”
“I don’t hate you,” she said quietly. And that was the problem. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea to get very close to you, that’s all.” She pulled out onto the road, her eyes straight ahead, dark, mirrored sunglasses covering them.
He remained quiet for a long time, not knowing what to say at first. The fact she had admitted to not hating him was a step in the right direction, at least. But, she was still afraid of him. And fear, he thought was much worse. Never did he think she would ever have reason to be afraid of him. That she was hurt him to his very core. “I’ve changed a lot since Mississippi, Mel.” He looked at the scar on her neck, knowing she had changed a lot too. She had closed herself off from all of her friends and built walls around herself. He didn’t even have to be in physical contact with her to know that. The walls were so high they felt like something physical between them.
“Yes, you’re a Special Agent now.”
“Not just that.”
“What then, Trevor?” she demanded hotly, the restraint she’d had on her temper finally snapping. “What’s changed about you that should make you any less dangerous to me?” The question was out before she could edit herself. She had forgotten how he could push her buttons and get her to slip and tell him what he wanted.
“You think I’m dangerous to you? Mel, I wouldn’t hurt you.” When she only stared straight ahead and would not speak, he said, “Mel?”
“Can we please not talk any more, Trevor?”
There was such desperation in her voice that he didn’t have the heart to push her. “Okay,” he said. That was fine for now, but he knew that eventually they would have to talk. About everything.
They had an uneventful ride on the FBI’s small jet and a quiet ride to the hotel in the rental car. Pittsburgh’s weather was dreary, the rain came down as a steady mist and the sky was the color of slate with clouds that hung ominously low.
Trevor requested adjoining rooms and would not back down from his position, even when Mel threatened to leave. “This guy knows we’re hunting him now. He might be watching and I’m not taking any chances.”
“You just stay on your own damn side of the door, then,” she growled at him as she hefted her duffle bag and backpack.
Following her, and looking at the backpack, he said, “You know, most women carry a purse.”
“Thanks for the tip. But, if you recall, I’m not most women. Besides, my laptop doesn’t fit in a purse.”
They were on the ground floor, not far off the lobby. When Trevor stopped at his door, Mel continued on to the next one. As she ran her keycard through it, Trevor said, “We need to eat. Do you think you could stand being around me long enough to get something?”
She regarded him with mild amusement for a moment. “I guess so.” She was hungry. Her headache had backed off somewhat. “I don’t feel like sitting in a car anymore today. We can just eat at the hotel restaurant if that’s good with you.”
He shrugged, not really caring at the moment, as long as he got something in his stomach. He opened his door, dropped his suitcase and computer case just inside the door and closed it, watching as she did the same.
They walked down to the restaurant in silence and sat at a booth in the back, seated so both of them could see the entrance. The waitress, with only two other customers was quick to come to their table. She was also quick to flirt with Trevor.
“So, you two here on vacation?” she asked, only sparing Mel the tiniest of glances.
“No,” they said in unison.
“We’re here on business,” Mel told her, “and I need whatever you have on tap. The big glass.”
Trevor raised his brows to this. “Sounds good. I’ll have the same.”
The waitress, beaming a smile at him, said, “I’ll be right back with your beer and get your orders.”
Trevor caught Mel staring at him with a particular twinkle in her eye. “What?”
“You haven’t lost your touch with the women, I see.” She remembered everywhere they went, the women trying like hell to get his attention. She also remembered getting jealous on several occasions.
“Not all the women,” he said brazenly.
“Yeah, your partner seems immune. You already try it and find
out it wasn’t going to work?” she asked, ignoring what she knew had been the true meaning behind his statement.
“No, Mel, there isn’t anything going on there, nor has there been. Renee is very career driven. She’s not the type to let a relationship distract her from her goals.”
“Like I did?” she asked coolly.
Trevor flinched. “That’s not the way I meant it.”
“But it’s the truth.”
She was delving into their past, but he knew a mine field when he saw one and stepped back. “I’ve set up some time with Carly’s parents at ten o’clock tomorrow morning.” Carly Richards had been victim number one. “They have also agreed to let us take a look around her apartment, so we’ll meet them there. Then we can go talk to her coworkers at the bank.”
The waitress dropped off their beers and took their dinner orders.
“Then,” he went on after she had left, “we can head to West Virginia. I have things set up there and in Indiana with the families, friends and coworkers.”
Taking a long pull from her beer, Mel said, “Sounds like three full days.”
He nodded. “They will be. I’ve gone through all of the police reports, but I like to do some of this personally, in case something got missed.”
“You also have an edge that most of them don’t have,” she pointed out.
“I don’t have any illusions that I’ll actually come into contact with the killer or someone who knows him, but it would be nice, wouldn’t it?”
“And lucky. But you can’t discount luck.”
“There is a way we could increase our odds significantly,” he said, taking a sip of his own beer and watching for her reaction over the rim of the glass.
Her eyebrows shot up and she pressed her lips together, knowing where he was going. “I don’t think so, Trevor.”
“Why? What are you afraid of? Why did you shut yourself off, Mel?”
“You were there, Trevor, you figure it out.”
“God, Mel, what you’ve done to yourself is like voluntarily going blind and deaf.”
“What I’ve done is preserve my sanity.” Elbows on the table, she leaned toward him. “I told you that my personal life is not up for discussion. I meant it. Change the subject or shut up.”
Putting his hands in the air, he surrendered. “Fine. I just don’t understand.”
She debated with herself for a moment. Maybe if she told him he would just drop it. “Trevor, when Becker attacked me, I felt it from both sides. His and mine. Do you understand? What you call a gift was the most horrible thing in the world for me. And I couldn’t shut it off. I don’t intend to ever put myself back in one of their heads again.” He sucked down more of her beer, staring at him, daring him to argue with her.
“Mel, I didn’t know,” he nearly whispered painfully.
“Of course you didn’t, you were too busy trying to avoid my feelings.”
“I’m sorry for that,” he told her. “I don’t know how many more times you need to hear it before you’ll believe it.”
“I do believe that you’re sorry, but it doesn’t change what happened.” She sighed. “I’m not completely blameless either and I know it. It’s not that I’m angry with you any more, Trevor, I just know better than to allow myself to get close to you again.”
“Because you’re afraid I’ll desert you again?”
She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter why, because it’s not going to happen.” She looked up as the waitress came toward the table with their orders.
As she set the plates down, Mel slid her empty beer glass toward her and asked for another one.
“Bender tonight?” Trevor asked, picking up his hamburger and taking a bite.
“Maybe. I don’t have to drive and I won’t be getting any 911 calls.”
“It won’t help with your headache.”
“Trust me, it sure in the hell won’t make it any worse.” She picked up her Rueben and took a healthy bite.
A while later, after the last swallow of her second beer, Mel said, “I moved to Michigan because we lived there for two years while I was growing up and I always loved it.”
Confused for a moment, Trevor cocked his head at her. Then he remembered his question to her in the car, the one she had refused to answer. “That’s right, your dad was in the Air Force.” He watched her and thought that she might be getting a little buzz. He did not comment when she ordered another beer as the waitress cleared their dinner plates away. If nothing else, she was easier to get along with.
“I probably should have followed in his footsteps. Things would have turned out a whole lot different.”
“Things have a way of happening the way they’re designed to, Mel.”
“Wow. How depressing to think it was my fate to be attacked by a monster.”
“It’s just the way I think things work. But hey, what do I know?” He looked at her hands resting on the table and wanted to reach out and touch one of them.
“Don’t,” she said quietly.
Making eye contact with her, his eyes widened. Whether she wanted it or not, she was reaching out, just a little bit. Enough to catch a thought here and there. The alcohol had loosened her up and made her more receptive. He guessed she didn’t drink very often.
As the waitress sat another beer down, Mel pushed it to the center of the table. “I think I’ll need your help with this one.”
After they finished the beer and he paid the bill, they walked back toward their rooms. He stopped with her outside her door and waited while she opened it. “We can meet in the restaurant for breakfast at eight o’clock.” He paused, then added, “I’d like it if you would unlock the door between our rooms for the night.” He expected a fight.
“I told you I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can. I’ll sleep better though.”
Deciding to choose her fights with him, she shrugged. “Fine. I don’t care.” She smiled at him. “Maybe it’s your ass that will need a rescue.”
“Maybe.” It was only seven o’clock. He stared into her eyes, remembering another time at another hotel.
“Goodnight, Trevor,” Mel said, backing into her room and closing the door. She had seen the look in his eyes and felt herself weakening. He was too damn sexy for his own good and most definitely for hers. It would be easy to fall back into bed with him, to let him hold her again. And she knew he would, she needed only to ask. But she was afraid it would also destroy her.
He stood in the hallway, staring at her door for a moment, knowing that he had seen, just for a moment, wanting in her eyes. That same wanting that used to drive him crazy. “Shit,” he muttered to himself, turning from her door and going to his own room. He pulled his laptop computer out and set it up on the small desk in the corner of the sitting room. He didn’t bother to unpack anything other than his toiletries for the one night stay. Going to the door that joined the two rooms, he unlocked his side, hoping she had done the same.
He heard her television come to life, then, through the thin walls he heard her begin to fill the tub in the bathroom. He remembered how she loved to take a hot bath with a glass of wine and a book. Groaning, he turned on his own television and flopped down on the bed, propping himself up with pillows against the headboard. He couldn’t stop thinking about her in that hot tub of bubbles. It was going to be a long night.
Seven
He woke in a tangle of bedcovers, feeling unrested and irritable. He had tossed and turned all night, thinking of her just on the other side of the wall, wondering what she was doing, what she looked like as she slept, what she smelled like. But he knew the answers to those questions, and that drove him even further over the edge. He knew what she looked like lying on her side, her features relaxed in sleep. He knew what she looked like when she woke next to him. He wondered if she was wondering about him…With a groan born of pure frustration he threw his legs over the side of the bed and stretched. Looking at the tiny one cup coffee maker on the dresser next to
the television, he found himself wondering why they even bothered with those little damn things. A real man needed more than one cup of coffee to get moving in the morning.
He was getting his coffee ready when he heard the light knock on the door between the rooms. He opened the door to find her standing there with a sheepish smile on her face.
Seeing him standing there in nothing but a pair of shorts, she swallowed hard, trying to find her voice. She knew he noticed her staring at him but she couldn’t help it. “I…um…I seem to have forgotten to bring my toothpaste,” she finally managed. God, but he had filled out.
“Oh. You can use mine.” Flannel pajama bottoms and an old tee shirt. No frilly nightgowns for his girl. She hadn’t changed a bit. “It’s sitting out by the sink.”
Holding up her toothbrush and a cup, she said, “I’ll just borrow your sink.”
Stepping aside, he watched as she walked back to the alcove outside of the bathroom.
“I realized last night, but I didn’t want to bother you,” she called out to him before she started brushing.
“You could have,” he said, coming to stand at the entrance of the alcove. “I was probably up.”
She met his eyes in the mirror and shrugged her shoulders. The truth of the matter was, she hadn’t trusted herself to be in his room last night. A couple beers and warm feelings for him could have spelled disaster.
“We can stop somewhere and pick some up today if you want. Toothpaste, that is.” Though he wouldn’t mind if she came to his room morning and night to brush her teeth.
Finishing, and taking a long drink of water, she gave him a smile. “That would probably be a good idea. I just can’t believe I forgot and I refuse to pay the price they want for it in the vending machine down the hall.”
So she had tried to get out of having to ask him. “How’s the head this morning?” She was done brushing her teeth and he could see that she was getting ready to go back to her own room. He wanted her to stay just a little longer. This felt familiar to him and he wanted more of it.