“Let’s go,” Ryder announced as he returned to her.
Obediently, Kelly stood and followed him to the elevator. A bellboy followed her with their luggage on a cart. The three of them stood awkwardly in the elevator, staring up at the numbers as they slowly strolled by. Their rooms, apparently, were on the top floor of the hotel. Kelly felt a little dizzy as she stepped off the elevator, her eyes moving around the expansive corridor that was flooded with natural light from windows on either end and sky lights in the high ceiling. The bellboy led the way, pausing outside double doors just a few yards beyond the elevator lobby. He used a keycard and pushed the doors open, moving to one side to allow them inside.
Kelly’s breath lodged in her throat, amazed by the wall of windows at the back of the massive living room. French doors opened onto a large balcony that looked out over the windy city, with chairs and a low table waiting for guests who might like to enjoy a warm morning or cool evening outside. There was a dining table to one side complete with four upholstered chairs, a large walnut desk on the other side of the room complete with everything a business person might need to get a little work done. There was a couch and several arm chairs set in front of a huge flat screen television. And a fully stocked bar rounded out the room, waiting with sparkling crystal glasses and bottle after bottle of expensive liquor.
“What is this?” she asked as she stood just inside the door.
“A suite. Mastiff has a deal with this hotel since our work brings us here quite often.”
Kelly glanced at him. “Seriously?”
“It’s a two-room suite. That way you’re never completely alone.”
“Great.”
Kelly walked over to the balcony doors and looked out on the city. Her heart pounded as she imagined living in this room with Ryder for the next eight days. Like having to depend on him for protection, this last week hadn’t been complicated enough. Now she was going to have to spend her downtime with him, too?
She wasn’t sure she was emotionally ready for that.
Ryder tipped the bellboy and walked him to the door, shutting it firmly behind him. Then he walked over to the bar and poured himself a stiff drink.
Was the idea of spending so much time alone with Kelly that difficult for him to get his head around?
“You should get some rest,” he called over to her. “You’re first appearance is pretty early in the morning.”
She nodded her head. She knew he was right, but she was restless. She opened the French door and stepped out onto the balcony, expecting to be hit in the face by high winds, but the way it was designed, kept the worst of the wind off the balcony. She stood by the railing and looked out over the city. She’d only been to Chicago a few times, always alone. Doing the tourist thing alone isn’t much fun, so she hadn’t really explored, but she knew enough to be able to recognize some of the most popular landmarks.
She and Tracy had planned to come here together this week. Tracy’s office had a branch out here, so she was going to arrange some meetings to coincide with this promotional trip so that they could do the tourist thing together.
For the first time since the shock of learning of Tracy’s death, Kelly let herself feel the ache of loss. They’d known each other less than a year, but they’d been fast friends. Kelly felt as though she’d lost more than just a neighbor. She’d lost her confidante. How many times over the past few weeks had she felt the desire to call Tracy and talk to her about Ryder or Dane? How many times had she wanted to share her fears and frustrations? But she couldn’t call her, and the reminder of that was depressing.
She missed having a friend she could trust.
Maybe it was time to go home.
Kelly had friends in Atlanta she’d known for years. Some had been her best friends since elementary school, some even earlier than that. She had one girlfriend she’d known since they were both in diapers, and their mothers worked together at the same school. Anna. She missed her desperately. They’d left things a little roughly. Anna didn’t think Kelly should chase after Ryder. She agreed with him that he was poison for everyone in his life and that it was better to see him go. But Anna had never been Ryder’s biggest fan.
But maybe, in this one instance, she had been right.
Kelly sighed, pressing her hands against the sides of her head as if that would still her thoughts. It didn’t help. The past was too close right now. And she kept having this same thought, what if it was her fault Tracy was dead? What if being her friend is what had led to Tracy’s death? If it was someone connected to the shooting that had destroyed their lives two years ago, if Tracy was dead because someone mistook her for Kelly, how could she live with that? A part of her clung to the hope it had just been a random crime, and that Dane would find the killer. But, deep inside, she knew that wasn’t true.
Just more guilt she’d have to find a way to live with.
“Are you hungry? There’s a little restaurant down the block where we could get some food.”
Kelly shook her head. “I think I’ll just go take a bath and get some sleep.”
She turned to walk passed him, but he sidestepped to block her path.
“It’s going to be a long week if we don’t figure out a way to talk to each other.”
She looked up at him, surprised there weren’t tears in her eyes. “Don’t worry. I won’t bring up the past anymore.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
She stepped back a little, dropping her eyes to the ground. She didn’t want to have this conversation now, or ever. She was done fighting.
She just wanted to soak in her disappointment for a while.
“I want you to understand that I’ve only wanted the best for you. I left because I thought it was the right thing.”
“It was the right thing to walk out on your wife less than a week after a miscarriage?” Her eyes came up, filled with all the disbelief and hurt he’d left her with. “Is that really what you thought?”
“I thought I brought it on you. I thought if I left, the negative press and the chaos would follow me.”
“It didn’t, you know. The reporters stayed on our front lawn, making it impossible for me to get to work. I had to go stay with my parents for two months just so that I could leave the house without a dozen people screaming questions on me.”
“I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. “No. You know what? Sorry isn’t good enough.” She stepped into him, pressing her finger against the center of his chest. “You have no idea what you did when you left me. The press was only the tip of the damn iceberg! I lost my job because of the press following me around all the time. Half my friends distanced themselves from me because of the gossip and the lies that ran wild in your absence. My dad had to make the mortgage payments so that I wouldn’t lose the house. And the medical bills. If I hadn’t been able to find a publisher for my novels, I would have had to move in with my parents permanently.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Of course you didn’t know. You left. And because you left, people made assumptions. They decided you were guilty even though the state police ruled the shooting appropriate. I couldn’t go to the grocery store without people whispering behind my back, pointing. ‘There’s the wife of that trigger-happy cop!’” Kelly shook her head even as she jabbed her finger hard against his chest. “You have no idea what you did when you walked out. The only person you protected by leaving was you.”
“Kelly—”
“You didn’t have to see it all fall apart. You didn’t have to listen to the rumors. You didn’t have to bite your tongue to keep from defending someone who didn’t want to be defended. You didn’t get up in the middle of the night because some stupid kids threw baseballs at the front of the house and broke two windows. You didn’t—”
He grabbed her face between both hands and pulled her face up to his, kissing her firmly on the lips. For a brief second, she tried to pull away, planting her hands against his chest, vaguely aware
of the pounding of his heart under her palm. They fit together so perfectly that she was sure she’d never meet anyone else who felt this way. She stepped into him because a little voice at the back of her head told her that this was the last time she’d know this, that she’d feel this. She should enjoy it while she could.
Kelly wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself up against him, pressing her body against the length of him. He was so big that she felt lost against him, felt petite and delicate. He picked her up and turned, pressing her back to the cold glass wall that divided the balcony from the suite’s living room. His mouth slipped from hers to greedily taste her throat, to bite and suck flesh that had only ever known his touch. She buried her fingers in his hair, the soft curls that somehow always remained soft and perfect no matter how long the day tended to be. He felt so familiar, smelled familiar. He still wore the same cologne he’d always worn, the familiar cedar scent exciting her in a way no other scent could do. Every erotic moment in her life was attached to that scent, and just a whiff of it had this power to do things to her that only his touch had ever done.
She loved him so much. She wanted this so desperately, but when he pulled back and looked at her, a cloud shifted across his green eyes, and she knew that if she let him take her into his bed, it wouldn’t change anything.
Was she ready to take that chance? Would she be capable of walking away from this with the memory of his touch that recent?
She didn’t think she would.
“I can’t,” she said, pushing at his chest, lowering her legs from around his waist, removing her arms from around his neck. “I can’t do this.”
“Kelly, I . . .”
But he didn’t finish whatever it was he’d been planning to say. Kelly turned away, but paused, a finger touching her swollen lips.
“When you get over yourself, over this self-pity trip you’ve been on, I’ll be waiting. But I can’t do this until you’re ready to come back to me completely.”
He studied her face for a moment longer, then turned away, walking to the rail to stare out at the city. That simple movement hurt her more than the words he’d spoken to her when he left two years ago. He was not the man she grew up with, the man she married and began her life with. He was not the man she was hoping would one day find his way back to her.
She was never going to get that man back, and it was time she learned to accept it.
Chapter 13
Springfield, Illinois
Mastiff Security Headquarters
Durango leaned against the wall and watched Calder move slowly down one length of the room and then slowly up the other. He was studying the evidence Durango had gathered on the Harrison Strangler over the years, pictures, documents, and notes he’d stolen from the original investigation by the Chicago Police Department, and other notes he’d put together after Sarah’s death. There was a lot, but it didn’t add up to much.
The original investigation had pointed to a hacker who lived in a dingy basement apartment. It had seemed perfect. He hacked a boutique that was the only connection between the original victims. None of them attended the same schools, none went to the same church, none shopped at the same grocery store. Hell, not all of them lived in the same section of the city. But they all shopped at, or had their name added to the customer list of, a little boutique downtown that sold women’s intimates. He went down the list, checking off women who didn’t fit his criteria, killing the ones who did almost in order. It was creepy the way he went about it. Methodical.
But the day after his arrest, the suspect was found dead in his cell, his last words written for Durango. He claimed not to be the killer. And, as if to prove it, Sarah was murdered in the same exact method, down to the mirrors covered with her t-shirts and paintings taken down from the wall.
But if he had the wrong guy the first time around, how did the killer get his hands on the kill list?
“Could they have been working together?”
Calder gave voice to the obvious question. Durango shrugged. “Most serial killers work alone.”
“Yes, but this guy had the list, and the real killer was marking names off it.” Calder turned to look at Durango. “What other reason did the hacker have for taking that particular list?”
“We never even proved that he was the one who hacked the list. We simply traced it to his computer. We would have done more research on it, but his death and my arrest kind of stopped that investigation.”
“We should check into it.”
Durango nodded. “It’s a good place to start.”
“Maybe check out his associates. You wouldn’t happen to have access to his computer anymore, would you?”
“It should be in lockup in Chicago still.”
“Axel might have friends up there. I can ask around.”
Durango pushed away from the door and crossed to the picture of the first victim, Natalie. “I always assumed there was some sort of personal connection between the killer and this girl. Natalie. She was a college student, premed, engaged to her high school sweetheart, also a premed student. From everything I heard, she was an angel, never did anything to hurt a soul.”
“Maybe she inadvertently broke some guy’s heart.”
“That was my thought. I interviewed all the men in her life—classmates and professors, friends and family—but no one fits. I think, perhaps, it was someone she met casually, someone she didn’t realize she’d slighted. I went to this bar she used to hang out in, talked to the bartender a few times, but I didn’t get much from it. Maybe you’d have better luck.”
“It’s been seven years.”
“I know. But people have long memories when it comes to this sort of thing.”
Calder moved up behind Durango to study the pictures of the victims. Durango had found a picture of Kyle and one of Detective Hyde that he’d added to the collection. Calder touched his finger to the one of Kyle and shook his head.
“She doesn’t quite fit.”
“What makes you say that?”
“She’s not exactly blond, and she doesn’t have the same sort of look as the others.” He stepped back, studying each of the photographs in turn. “They all have a certain look to them, a pretty, intelligent look. They’re all ambitious in one way or another, all confident. And all straight.”
“Except Kyle.”
“He couldn’t have known her sexual preference, I suppose. But there’s something else about her, the color of her hair, the false innocence.” Calder shook his head. “Her hair’s too dark to fit his type. And she doesn’t look like a confident woman, not in the same way as the others.”
“Kyle was the most confident woman I knew.”
“Because you knew her. But if you met her on the street, is that the impression you’d get of her?”
He thought about it for a second, then shook his head. “No, I don’t suppose so.”
“She doesn’t fit the pattern unless the killer had another reason for killing her.”
“Like the fact that she was my partner?”
Calder inclined his head slightly. “Or, perhaps, the killer knew her.”
“Why do you say that?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. A hunch.”
Durango crossed his arms over his chest. “That would suggest the killer was someone in my life, someone who followed me here from Chicago. But there’s no one who fits that bill.”
“You’re not friends with anyone from your past?”
“When you go on trial for killing your fiancée, a woman who had many friends in law enforcement, you quickly lose every friend you ever had.”
Calder grunted but didn’t have anything else to say. He continued to study the cork boards, his arms crossed over his chest as though to keep him from touching anything. Then he began to nod.
“I think I know where I want to start. I’ll go talk to Axel, let him know.”
“Where will you start?”
Calder hesitated. “I don’t thi
nk it’s a good idea for you to be too close to the investigation. No offense.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re too close.”
Durango studied his face for a long second. “Do you think I’m guilty?”
“I don’t think anything right now. But if things begin to go badly, I don’t want you getting caught in the crosshairs.”
“That’s my line.”
Calder shrugged. “You asked me to take a look at this, and that’s what I’m doing. Trust me when I say it would be best for you to keep your distance.”
“Okay.”
Durango watched him go, a sinking feeling in his chest warning him that this might not go well. He locked up Kyle’s old office and sauntered down to his. There was real work that needed doing. And not having an assistant—again—left more for him to do.
Durango rounded the corner to his office and stopped, a little surprised to find Gracie sitting at his assistant’s desk. She was staring down at something on the desktop, concentrating hard as she scribbled notes. He watched for a moment, enjoying the sight of her more than he wanted to admit to himself. The more he found himself looking at her, the more beautiful he believed she was. Gracie had worked for them almost from the beginning, coming to join the office when it was still just Durango, Kyle, Axel, and a few other operatives. He’d always seen her as the mousy, frightened girl who snuck around corners at the most unexpected moments. But that opinion had changed without him noticing.
Her gold hair was long, thick, tangled from a day of brushing her fingers through it and wrapping it around her fingers. Her glasses were heavy and unflattering, hiding perfect brown eyes with the most amazing flecks of green and gold in them. And those clothes, the long skirts and layers of sweater and blouse, creating bulk that he now suspected didn’t exist.
She was beautiful; she simply lacked the confidence to accept that about herself.
“You don’t have to do that.”
She looked up, clearly startled as she pressed a hand to the center of her chest. “I thought you were gone!”
Mastiff Security: The Complete 5 Books Series Page 47