by Cynthia Eden
She was too pale. She’d nearly died. He couldn’t get the image of her still body out of his mind. “He’s making mistakes. Going into the diner, using the florist—we’re so damn close to having him.” His fingers curled over her shoulders. “I just want some time, Katherine. Time when I can focus on the case because I know you’re safe.”
“And I don’t want anyone else dead because of me!”
He pulled her toward the house. A cop was at her door. His orders. He wanted Katherine watched constantly. “It’s not you. It’s that twisted freak of a killer.” How many times did he have to say the words?
“It’s easy to say when the blood isn’t on your hands.”
He caught her right hand. Small. Smooth. “There is no blood here. It’s all on him.”
She pressed her lips together and slipped into the house. He followed her, staying as close as a shadow as she went toward the stairs.
He wanted to be near her constantly now. She’d come too close to death, and he’d seen his worst nightmare.
The stairs squeaked softly as they climbed, and then they were in Katherine’s bedroom. The bedroom smelled of her. Sweet. Light.
He knew the worry wouldn’t stop when she left with Ross. If he couldn’t see her, then Dane knew he’d still be frantic. He’d only feel secure if he could keep an eye on her twenty-four seven.
Twenty-four seven.
Understanding hit him instantly. Dane wanted to keep a constant watch on Katherine so he could keep her safe.
Valentine…Valentine would want to keep a constant eye on her, too.
While Katherine was in her closet, he yanked out his crime-scene gloves. Carefully put them on.
He began to walk around the room, looking carefully in each corner, near each window.
“What are you doing?” Katherine asked.
He glanced over his shoulder. She stood in the doorway of her closet, frowning at him.
Cops had been in her house. Dozens of them. But they had been intent on keeping the killer out. Dane realized that the guy was already in. “He said he was watching you.”
She nodded. Her right hand had a white-knuckled grip on a small overnight bag.
“He’s obsessed, so he’d want to be near you all the time.” He kept up his slow search, letting his gaze slide carefully over every inch of the room. “And he told you to stay away from me.”
“Yes.”
Was it because the bastard knew that Dane had been intimate with Katherine? Was that what had made the guy snap and attack her?
If the man knew that, then he’d been watching, all right. Watching with a view that let him see straight into Katherine’s bedroom.
The techs had been over her house so carefully, they wouldn’t have missed a small camera or even a bug. Not if one were hidden in the obvious spots that most of that team would have checked.
Not obvious, but…
I know you’re watching.
His gaze locked on the security box on her far right wall. The green light shone, indicating the system was set. “Who installed your security system?”
“A…uh, a local company. Joe at the café, he suggested them.”
Fuck. Mac had let Joe walk from the station. The guy had undergone grilling for hours, but he’d sworn he had nothing to do with hurting Katherine. The café owner’s lawyers had pushed for him to be either charged or released.
They hadn’t possessed any evidence to charge him.
Dane’s gaze was on that security box. “Ross didn’t handle it?” The guy should have.
“He checked them out. Said they were clear.”
The box was bothering him. It was bigger than the box he’d seen in her den, bigger by at least four inches. And it was positioned at a direct angle to her bed and to the entrance to her bathroom.
He stepped a little closer to the box, eyes narrowing.
Sonofabitch. There was a small hole in the front of that box. And what sure as shit looked like a tiny camera lens peeking out at him.
He turned and headed toward Katherine. “Bring the bag, and let’s go.”
“But—”
He put his mouth near her ear. It probably looked like they were kissing, but he needed her to hear his whisper. “Don’t say anything else. He’s watching us.”
A tremble shook her body, but she nodded.
The sick prick had truly been watching her all along. But Dane wasn’t about to run over there and grab the camera. It was transmitting. If Valentine saw that they were on to him, the man would run.
But if they could trace that transmission back without alerting Valentine…
Got you.
He pulled away from her. “Let’s go.”
Katherine nodded. Her features were clear, showing no fear or anger. The woman really was a pretty fine actress. She hurried across the room, still clutching her bag, and hurriedly packed some clothes. She reached into her nightstand and pulled out—
“I won’t be coming back for a while, will I?” Katherine asked.
He shook his head.
That woman had just slipped a gun into her bag. Damn but he could love her.
Could?
“Then I’ll try to be as prepared as possible.”
Hell yes.
They left the house and went back to Dane’s car. As soon as their doors shut, he was on the line with his captain. “Harley, get a tech team working on Katherine’s house ASAP. The bastard’s been watching her. He’s got a camera in her bedroom.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw Katherine’s hands clench in her lap.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said to the captain. “I’m thinking we can trace the path of the signal. Find him. Stop him.”
Then Katherine could have her life back.
They were close. So fucking close. Valentine had screwed up. Left them a trail of bread crumbs to follow. This was the break they’d needed. This. Was. It. The techs hadn’t thought to check the security box—hell, it was the one thing most folks would assume was safe. Ross might have cleared the security company, but Dane didn’t think the guy had actually gone into Katherine’s bedroom. He hadn’t seen the box.
But all the while, Valentine had been seeing Katherine.
No more.
The techs were in a van, one with the big label of a local cable company plastered on the side. Dane crouched in that van, with Katherine seated close by.
John Baylor, the tech guru at the New Orleans PD, was typing furiously on his laptop. “It’s a short-range transmission.”
Unfortunately, that was exactly what Dane had feared.
“Short-range?” Katherine repeated.
“No more than a mile, maybe two, tops,” John said without looking up from his computer.
Katherine glanced at Dane. “He’s been less than two miles away from me? This whole time?”
Dane wasn’t sure just how long he’d been there. “When did you get your security system installed?”
“A year ago.”
Fuck.
Harley was down at the security office, questioning the manager and every person who worked there.
“Almost got the bastard…he put up some red herrings, bouncing it, but I almost…” John slapped the keyboard. “Got you.”
Yes. “Where?” Dane demanded.
“Five blocks away.”
“Five blocks?” Katherine’s voice had risen a few notches.
Dane yanked out his phone and got the captain instantly. “We’re moving.”
“Five-two-oh-seven Oakland Way,” John said. He was smiling.
Dane was too tense to smile. He wanted in that house. Wanted to bust his way inside now. But he knew the way this had to be handled. He gave the captain the address.
“Don’t move until I’m there,” Harley ordered. “I’m sending you backup. We go in right, and we take him down.”
Dane shoved the phone into his pocket. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Katherine’s. “It’s almost over,” he promised her.
/>
But a faint line was etched between her brows. “Five blocks? I-I thought I was safe, and he was just five blocks away.”
“Pretty soon he’s gonna be in a cage, and he won’t ever hurt anyone again.” With all of his kills, the bastard could get a needle shoved into his arm, or he could fry in the chair. Then Katherine’s nightmare would really be over.
Katherine grabbed his arm. Held tight. “Be careful.”
He always was.
She shook her head. “Don’t be cocky. Be careful. Valentine is smart, and he won’t go down without a fight.”
Good. Because Dane was more than ready for the battle.
“What are you doing, Detective? Are you trying to take my Kat away?” Valentine stared at the screen. Rewound the footage. Played it again.
The detective kept touching Kat too much. He’d thought their relationship was a ploy at first.
A way of getting to me.
But Kat looked at the detective differently. Her gaze softened when she stared at him.
And she touched the detective. Kat didn’t like to touch others. But she touched Dane Black. Far too much.
Valentine leaned forward and studied the scene once more. Something was off. He glared at the detective. The man had a past as fucked-up as Valentine’s own. He would never do for Katherine.
And if he kept touching—
The detective was wearing latex gloves. Why? Why wear gloves if they were just running in to pack a bag for Kat?
Valentine backed away from the screen.
This scene wasn’t about getting clothes.
Dane Black had been searching for something in that house. Then he’d hauled ass out of there…because he’d found what he was looking for.
Valentine watched as the detective’s gaze darted toward the security box. There…there. Dane Black’s stare narrowed.
He’d worn the gloves so the guy wouldn’t disturb any evidence. And, while Katherine had been packing, Dane had—
He found me.
Valentine ran for the stairs.
The house was unassuming. Small and brick, nestled at the end of a narrow street. Darkness was coming, and heavy shadows stretched over the area.
From his position behind the patrol car, Dane glared at the house.
“Doesn’t look like the place a serial killer would call home, huh?” The question came from Anthony Ross. Like Dane, he stood behind the patrol car. The marshal had been one of the first responders to rush to the scene.
“It looks exactly like the place a serial killer would call home,” Marcus argued quietly from Dane’s side. “Not like they have flashing neon signs.” The profiler’s voice was tight.
“Signs would make the job a whole lot fucking easier.” Ross shifted his position and pulled out his gun.
Dane already had his gun ready. He was just waiting on the order from the captain. They had their search warrant—they had more than enough probable cause to bust through that door.
He just needed the captain to wave his hand. Come on, Harley. Come the fuck on.
Katherine was in the van to the left of Dane. After all she’d been through, the woman deserved to see them bring down Valentine. When Dane had left the van, Katherine had been quiet and tense, and he knew that she was worried.
Worried that Valentine would plan some kind of last-minute attack. And yeah, she was right. No way would Dane buy that a guy like Valentine would go down easy.
“Jail isn’t gonna be an option for him,” Marcus said, seeming to echo Dane’s thoughts. “Be prepared for anything in there.”
He would be.
Any damn thing.
Harley headed toward the men. Like Dane and the others, he was wearing a bulletproof vest. Police officers stood at the ready around them, just waiting for the signal to begin their run on the house.
As he approached, Harley stared into Dane’s eyes. “You ready for this?”
“Yes, sir.”
Harley nodded. “Then go drag that bastard out. Make New Orleans safe.”
Dane didn’t have to be told twice. He led the team toward the house. Half would follow him through the front door. Half would go with the marshal through the back.
The cops had the house surrounded. No one inside would get out.
“It’s all right,” Captain Harley said as Katherine eased from the van and stood beside him. “Those men know exactly what they are doing.”
She understood that. But knowing didn’t do anything to fight the gnawing fear growing within her. “I want it to be over.”
But…
She was afraid to hope.
Dane was at the front door now. She saw him motion to the men with him. Then he was kicking the door open. Rushing in. “He always has to be first,” she muttered.
“Dane doesn’t want anyone else to take his risks.”
But she didn’t want him risking his life.
Katherine was clutching her bag in her hand. The bag that held her gun. Being so close to Valentine, she wanted that gun out. In her hands.
Five blocks away. Nausea rolled in her stomach. Not from the remnants of the drugs, but from fear and fury. “I must have seen him,” she said. While she’d been jogging. Heading to work. “I never knew.”
“Probably because he looks different now. Just like you do.”
New hair. No tan. And she’d lost some weight. But…it would need to be more than that for him. She would remember his jaw. His eyes. His nose. If he’d been so close, why hadn’t she seen him?
The cops were inside now.
All she could do was wait.
The house was clean—almost too clean. As if no real person lived there. Magazines were neatly stacked on the coffee table. Not so much as a speck of dust on the TV tray. Books were carefully arranged—in alphabetical order—on the small shelf in a corner of the living room.
The cops were searching every inch of the first floor. Ross and his team went to the back of the house, but Dane knew where Valentine liked to work, so he headed for the basement. With a motion of his hand, he got two officers to follow him. He yanked open the door to the stairway and rushed down the narrow steps.
Dane was afraid he’d find a body down there. The same twisted scene that Valentine had played out before.
But there was no victim in the basement this time. There was no one there at all.
Dane’s gaze narrowed on a small table against the right wall. A computer sat on top of that table. An image was looping and playing on that screen, again and again. Dane and Katherine. In her bedroom.
Valentine had been watching. Just a few minutes ago.
Dane stared at the screen, his body tight. You were here. Are you still? “Search every closet, under every bed—every damn place!” Dane barked. He tapped his transmitter. “Captain, he may have just fled the premises. Get the cops outside to start fanning out!”
The captain was shouting orders, telling his men to search the area.
“Get back in the van,” Harley told Katherine as his cheeks flushed. “Stay there until it’s safe.”
A cop ran toward Harley, coming from the back of the small house. He had a cap pulled over his head. Harley motioned to him. “Take the south patrol! Join up with them!”
Harley turned away from the cop and helped Katherine into the van.
The cop didn’t head south.
Katherine frowned. “Wait, didn’t you tell him—”
Harley’s phone began to ring. He grabbed it with his left hand even as his right kept pulling the van door shut. “Stay inside!” Harley told her once more.
But the cop hadn’t headed south. He’d turned toward the woods.
Katherine glanced over at the tech. John looked tense, and his gaze was on the computer screen.
“John, who owns this house?”
He looked over at her. “Can’t tell yet. Hell, what I’ve gathered, no one should own it. It was foreclosed on a year ago.” His gaze shifted back to the small screen. “The lights are hooked up
, gas and electricity, but it looks like the guy used three different names for those services. Tricky SOB.”
Yes, he was.
Katherine glanced toward the closed van door. She kept seeing that cop head the wrong way. It had probably been nothing. Maybe someone else had told him to search in that direction, but…
It felt wrong. She reached for her bag and the gun that was inside it. Right then, she needed that security.
As her fingers closed around the bag, Katherine heard a faint a gasp, then a thud. Like a body hitting the pavement.
Her heart slammed into her ribs as she lunged up and grabbed the door’s handle. The door rolled back, and the light from the van’s interior spilled on the ground.
Showing Katherine the fresh spatter of blood that was just inches from the van.
John grabbed her. “Hey, what are you doing? The captain said to stay—”
“Didn’t you hear that sound?”
He just stared blankly at her. He hadn’t. He hadn’t heard. She had. “He’s out there.” She clutched the bag tighter. “There’s blood on the ground, and I’m sorry, but you have to let me out of this van.” She wasn’t going to sit back again. Not going to let others be risked.
John scrambled back. “Blood? Where?”
She pointed to the ground and heard his sharp inhale. “Get on the radio,” she ordered him. “Valentine’s here.” And before he could stop her, she jumped out of the van. Katherine yanked her gun out of the bag. Harley was gone. There was no sign of the cop who’d been wearing the cap. Where were they?
She glanced around the street.
Harley had wanted the cop to search to the south.
So that just leaves north, west, and east.
Then she heard a faint groan. Pain-filled, soft. That faint sound had come from the left. To the west.
She ran as fast as she could. She jumped over a tall row of bushes, felt the scratches on her right leg. Tripped over someone’s discarded tricycle, and then—
Harley was on the ground.
The cop with the cap was crouched over him. The cop—he had a knife at Harley’s chest.