by Kara Lennox
She recalled the deep timbre of his voice, his Ivory soap scent, the many ways he touched her. She thought about how badly Travis needed children in his life, and how much she wanted to be the woman to bear them. It sounded an awful lot as though she was in love with the man. Seriously in love. And she wasn’t getting over it any time soon.
Being the personal assistant to an unspeakably wealthy man who paid all of her living expenses... It was just too easy, even with the long hours and Daniel’s unpredictable expectations.
She wanted passion in her life. She wanted to challenge herself. Set goals and achieve them. Even the prospect of living within a budget and washing her own clothes sounded appealing.
That was it. She’d grown up in the past few weeks. Now she needed to live like a responsible adult.
As she showered and dressed that morning, a little bleary-eyed from sleep, she knew she wouldn’t stay working for Daniel. She would find him just the right person to be his new assistant. She would prepare herself, too—find her own apartment, her own car. She would start job hunting in earnest, although she wasn’t sure exactly what she wanted to do.
She wondered if there might be a position for her at Project Justice. The important work done there appealed to her. But she wasn’t a lawyer, a former cop or a scientist; those were the skills most valued at the foundation.
Finding a job was just one of many challenges she faced, and the prospect of figuring it all out made her blood race with excitement and anticipation. There was still a big hole in her heart where Travis ought to be, but hopefully she would keep herself so busy, so challenged, that she would have no time to dwell on her loss during the day and would be too exhausted at night to let thoughts of Travis keep her awake.
Daniel was already at the breakfast table when she came downstairs. Normally she beat him by a good fifteen minutes. She checked her watch: no, she wasn’t later than usual.
“Good morning, Elena. I trust you slept well?”
“Very well, thank you,” she lied. A good assistant never troubled her boss with her personal problems.
“Me, too. I have some space in my schedule around ten-thirty this morning. Come to my office. I have something to discuss with you.”
Elena’s heart skipped a beat. Could this be something about Eric? She hadn’t pressed Daniel for any progress reports. If he said he would talk to his wife, he would do it, and he would inform her of what Jamie’s reaction was and what progress was being made whenever he deemed it appropriate. Nagging him would only irritate him.
“I’ll be there. Actually, I have something to discuss with you, too.” She wanted to give him the news of her resignation before he gave her any good news, so it wouldn’t appear she’d been waiting until she got what she wanted before quitting her job.
“I’ll look forward to it.”
She was so filled with a mixture of excitement and dread, she could hardly eat any of her breakfast, even though Cora had made blueberry crepes, one of Elena’s favorites. She just kept swallowing coffee, knowing too much would make her jittery.
Her morning was filled with mistakes—phone numbers misdialed, a lost insurance form Daniel needed to sign, a message for one executive at Logan Energy given to another. But she was so distracted she could hardly answer the phone without stuttering and forgetting commonplace words. When Daniel’s ten o’clock video-conferencing appointment wrapped up early, Elena didn’t wait around for the clock to actually read ten-thirty. She went directly to Daniel’s office, his man cave, and tapped on the door.
“Ready for me?”
“Come on in.” He wasn’t smiling. What if he had bad news? What if Jamie had scoffed at the idea of Tammy’s lover killing her at precisely three o’clock? They were depending on the word of a teenager, after all.
“Hi, Daniel. I hope you won’t mind, but I’d like to say my piece first, before yours.”
“Okay.” He looked worried. “Have I done something wrong?”
“No...oh, no, you’ve been the model boss. And this is nothing personal against you, but—”
“You’re resigning again.”
“Yes... How did you know?”
“You’re not that hard to read, Elena. I can sense a certain restlessness in you. A vague dissatisfaction that was never evident before.”
She was surprised at Daniel’s astuteness where she was concerned. For most bosses, if you were a good assistant, you became invisible.
“I had a cat once, when I was a kid,” he said. “Her name was Dolly, and she lived indoors all her life. Because she’d never been beyond the front door, she had no interest in running free. But one day, she got out and she was gone for a whole day. I guess she realized what she’d been missing—birds, mice, grass, trees to climb. I found her and brought her back home. But she was forever sitting at the window, looking out, clearly yearning for that freedom she tasted.”
“You think I’m Dolly?”
He nodded. “You had a taste of freedom. You want to experience life on your own terms. I get it. And I have no intention of standing in your way.”
“Oh, Daniel, thank you. My stomach has been tied up in knots all morning. And I intend to give you plenty of time. We’ll find someone really great to take over my job. Someone so great you’ll never miss me.”
“I doubt that, but I’m trusting you to get me the best candidate possible.”
“I will.”
Daniel cleared his throat. “I spoke with Jamie about the Riggs case. She wasn’t too happy. Even though it was her predecessor who prosecuted Eric, every time Project Justice overturns a Houston conviction, it reflects badly on her office, and she’s tired of it. She doesn’t want this to be another public relations disaster.”
“So she won’t help?”
“On the contrary. She’s already handled it...quietly. She brought April in for a deposition two days ago, and she turned over the greeting card and coupons to her own investigators. They found prints on the envelope, and you won’t believe who the prints belong to.”
“It’s Jimmy, right?”
“Wrong. John Stover.”
Elena was stunned. “MacKenzie’s foster dad was Tammy’s lover?”
“Apparently so. His wife was part of that coupon club, so Stover would have known all about it.”
“He’s a viable suspect, then.”
“It’s a big leap from having an affair to murder. But there’s more. The crime lab took a closer look at Tammy’s fingernail clippings and the DNA collected. She definitely scratched someone. Once they get a profile, they’ll compare it to Stover’s. But even if it doesn’t match—even if Stover isn’t the murderer—Eric Riggs is in the clear.”
“Are you sure? The district attorney will take the word of a teenage girl?”
“She’s an honor student headed to Notre Dame—a credible witness. Her testimony is highly suggestive that Tammy was murdered while Eric was with a client at his office. Now, you know the wheels of justice can move slowly—”
“Of course.”
“And it might take some time to get the verdict overturned and officially reopen the case. But I spoke with the governor yesterday and, given the little girl’s situation, he’s going to grant a full pardon for Eric as soon as possible.”
Stunned was far too mild a word to describe what Elena felt. She literally had to grip the arms of her chair to keep from falling out of it. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Daniel, this is amazing. Thank you!” She flew out of her chair and hugged him, practically climbing into his lap.
Daniel laughed and hugged her back. “Elena.”
She came to her senses and extricated herself from him, straightening the tie she’d knocked askew. “I’m so sorry. I forgot myself.” She’d never before hugged her boss. It was unseemly.
“It’s all right. You’re enti
tled to lose your composure once in a while.”
“I have to go tell Travis.” She headed for the door, and then realized she was still acting like a lunatic. “Wait. Sorry. I can’t just take off in the middle of a workday. Do you mind if I leave for a bit while you’re at lunch?”
Daniel grinned. “Go now. I have a feeling you’ll be distracted anyway until you take care of this.”
She stopped at her room only long enough to change into a pair of jeans and a casual top—mostly because she didn’t want to have to explain to Travis why she’d gone back to work for Daniel. He would think she’d sold her soul to the devil. Even though he’d been horrified to hear she’d quit her job because of him, she felt he would still be disappointed in her for changing her mind.
She waited until she was in her car before calling Travis. It occurred to her that he would probably notice she was driving a very nice car—her company car was a red BMW. She hoped he wouldn’t ask, because she wouldn’t lie outright to him.
When she called his cell, voice mail picked up. “Travis, it’s Elena. Call me, please. I need to see you. It’s important.”
Now that she was in her car, she couldn’t just sit there. She decided to drive to Travis’s house and see if he might be home. His hours were unpredictable. She had to resist speeding and running through stop signs to get there.
But when she arrived and rang the bell, no one was home. She’d already picked up the rest of her things and left her key, making sure he wasn’t home first so she wouldn’t have to see him. But today seeing his face would be a pleasure, a memory she would treasure forever.
She dialed his number again. Still no answer.
“Well, that’s annoying.”
She couldn’t just wait there until he returned. That could be hours. And while Daniel hadn’t specified any particular time she should be back at work, she didn’t want to abuse his goodwill. He’d gone the extra mile for Eric Riggs. Maybe he’d done it for Jamie, to save the D.A.’s office more embarrassment. But she suspected he’d done it for her.
Then she spotted a couple of guys up on the roof. She got back out of her car and approached. “Hola!” When they looked at her, she gave them a friendly wave. “Do you know where Travis is?”
“He’s at the big job,” one of the men answered. “The house on Marigold Circle.”
That made sense. His deadline for having it finished was fast approaching. “Gracias!”
The house wasn’t far. And somehow it seemed fitting that their final meeting take place at the location where he’d first held her hostage. A couple of trucks were parked in the driveway, but not Travis’s. Maybe he’d put it in the garage. She rang the bell, but no one answered. She didn’t hear the sound of machinery or hammering or even a radio. She tried the door, but it was locked.
Well, shoot. The guys had probably gone to lunch. She couldn’t wait all day. She would just have to give Travis the news over the phone when he finally returned her call. It occurred to her that he might be avoiding her on purpose, but if he didn’t want to see her, he would probably just tell her up front.
Disappointed, she turned from the door just as it opened.
She whirled back around to find a tall, dark-haired man in jeans and a T-shirt standing there.
“Oh, hi,” she said. “I didn’t think anyone was here. I’m looking for Travis. Do you know when he’ll be back?”
“He just went to lunch. Should be back anytime. You can come in and wait, if you want. You’re... Aren’t you Elena, Travis’s girlfriend?”
She could understand the mistake. Several of Travis’s workers had seen the two of them together. She didn’t remember meeting this particular guy on the job before, but construction workers came and went. And they probably gossiped, too. “We’re not really... Not anymore. But I still need to talk to him about something.” She stepped inside and closed the door behind her. When she turned back to face the man who’d let her in, she was met with a most upsetting sight. The foyer was covered with neon-orange spray paint. Vile words were scrawled on the walls, the tile floor, even the ceiling.
“Oh, no. When did this happen?”
“Just now, actually.”
A sense of foreboding hit Elena in the solar plexus. She looked at the man, who smiled at her unpleasantly. She glanced at his hands. Orange paint covered his index finger.
“You’re him, aren’t you? Stover.”
“Right on the first guess.”
Dios. She was staring into the face of a murderer. Accusations were on the tip of her tongue, but she stopped herself at the last moment. Stover probably didn’t know he was a murder suspect. If she tipped him off, he might flee. Instead, she asked, “Why did you let me in? I was about to leave. You could have gotten away with it.”
“Oh, I will get away with it. And a lot more, too. Travis Riggs destroyed my life. He took away my livelihood, not to mention my future retirement. I won’t rest until I ruin him.”
Could she brazen it out? “Fine by me. Son of a bitch dumped me. I just came here to return—”
“Nice try, sweetheart.” She turned to run, but she wasn’t fast enough. He snagged her by the wrist and jerked her toward him. “Destroying his business is step one. Killing his girlfriend? That ought to put a dent in his swagger.”
She struggled against him as he tried to drag her toward the back of the house. “You think you won’t get caught? The police know who’s behind the vandalism.”
“I doubt that very much. I made sure there were no witnesses.”
“You’re not as smart as you think. They’ll know. If you hurt me, they’ll know it was you.” Where was he taking her? If he wanted to kill her, why not just do it here?
She was making it too easy for him. She recalled how little effort it took for Travis to scoop her up and thrust her into his truck; lying there in that dark cramped space with tools digging into her back, she’d had time to think about how to prevent being victimized again. Yet here she was, letting it happen. She dug in her heels, forcing him to drag her. She tried kicking him, and she made contact a couple of times, hitting him hard enough to make him curse. But his hand remained clamped around her arm like a steel vise. She felt something crack inside her wrist and pain shot up her arm like a hot poker.
“Stand up and walk!” he screamed as he backhanded her across the face.
She refused to meekly cooperate. Instead, she bit his hand the way a dog would.
“Damn it! Bitch!” He threw her onto the floor and she fell on her knees, hard. She scrambled to her feet, but he grabbed her by the hair. “You’re not going anywhere.” He hit her again, with a closed fist this time. For the first time in her life, she literally saw stars. By the time her vision cleared, Stover had thrown her over his shoulder in a cruel parody of the way Travis had held her. Stover had one hand clamped around her thigh, his fingers digging into her flesh. Beating her fists against his back had no effect.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Somewhere I can take my time with you,” he replied matter-of-factly. “Maybe get it on video. Send it to Travis as a little present.”
No. She could not allow him to do this to Travis. Just when his brother would get his life back, Travis would lose his. He would forever blame himself for Elena’s death. If there was video, those pictures would be burned into Travis’s brain forever. She could not let it happen.
As Stover carried her through the kitchen, Elena grabbed on to anything she could get her hands on. She managed to snag the refrigerator door, using her good hand to grip the handle with all her strength and forcing Stover to at least slow down so he could pry her lose. She wiggled and kicked and screamed. He punched her leg with his fist, but she’d reached a ceiling as far as the pain went.
“Let go, bitch.”
The fridge door came open and she grabbed t
he first thing she could get her hands on: a bottle of ketchup. As Stover finally pulled her free of the appliance, she whacked him in the head with the plastic bottle, wishing it was glass. Still, it had to hurt.
She heard a door open.
“Hey, who the hell left this door unlocked?”
“Travis!” she screamed. “Help me, please, help me!”
Stover dropped her onto the hard tile floor, and her knees took the brunt of the fall yet again. But no sooner had she hit the ground than he’d dragged her to her feet again. He reached into the sink behind him, and when his hand came back, it was holding a knife.
“Elena!” Travis cried out.
“Don’t come any closer,” Stover said in a growl.
“Let her go!” Travis bellowed. “Just drop her and run out the back door. I won’t come after you. You can get away.”
“What, and miss out on all the fun? I’m screwed now, any way you look at it. I’m going to prison. I might as well have some fun before I go down.”
“Travis, go!” Elena screamed. “Don’t try to take him yourself. He’s a murderer. He killed Tammy!”
Travis’s face went slack with shock.
“Don’t listen to her,” Stover growled. “Stay. I want to see the look on your face when I slit the throat of the woman you love. Ah, you do love her. I see it in your eyes.”
Did he? It was ridiculous for Elena to feel happiness bloom in her chest when she was about to die, but Stover was right. She could see love in Travis’s eyes. It was all mixed up with fear and horror and murderous fury, but it was there.
“You are going down, you cowardly piece of filth.” Travis now spoke with an eerie calmness. “You can do it easy. You can let Elena go, run out the back door and count on being arrested. But if you cut her, if you do any more damage than you’ve already done, I will kill you here on the spot. And I won’t be merciful. You’ll die screaming.”
Elena could almost feel the indecision pouring off Stover. At heart, he was a coward, preying on women, victimizing children who couldn’t speak up for themselves.