CORE Shadow [1] Shadow of Danger

by Kristine Mason

  “Ever hear of calling first?” she asked, going for ticked off nonchalant even as her pulse raced. “I know you own a cell phone. If I recall, you used it last night.”

  “Do you think we could leave the sarcasm at the door and talk inside? Please. It’s important. To me, to us.”

  She raised her gaze to his, caught the regret and longing in his eyes and caved. “Sure, but I don’t have much time though. I have paperwork to do and—”

  “Why aren’t you at work?” he asked, an edge to his tone.

  “Will’s there, and besides, as of today, I have a new assistant manager.” Something she should have done several years ago rather than completely burden herself with the business. Maybe now she’d finally find the time to have a life outside of the diner.

  “Karen? I met her when I stopped by the diner looking for you.”

  “Yeah, she’s great. She’s been working at The Sugar Shack for years, and knows everything about it. I should have given her the promotion a long time ago.”

  “But you didn’t want to lose control.” He moved into the foyer, glancing between the living room and dining room. “You’re alone?”

  “Duh,” she muttered with exasperation, and took a seat on the couch.

  “I thought you were leaving the sarcasm at the door.”

  “I’m not being sarcastic, I’m pissed. Would you like me to show you another example to help clarify the difference?”

  He raised his hands and dropped to the other end of the couch. “Please, don’t indulge me.” With a weary sigh, and an even wearier frown crossing his face, he pulled his cell phone from his pants pocket, then set it on the coffee table.

  She eyed the phone. “What are you doing? And why shouldn’t I be alone?”

  “Your last trance will give you the answers. You did want to hear it, right?”

  Panic rose to the surface and had her scooting her legs beneath her. “I did, I mean, I do. Why the turnaround?”

  He reached for her hand. “Last night, I didn’t mean to come off all hard-assed. I’m sorry for that. But I was only trying protect you, not control you.”

  Rolling her eyes, she released a heavy sigh. “There’s a novelty,” she said, then cringed. “Sorry, no more sarcasm.”

  His eyes darkened with anguish and regret. “No, actually, I think sarcasm fits. When was the last time you did something just for you?”

  She looked down at the new acrylic nails, applied this morning and painted cherry red. The manicure had been done on a whim, but she knew he wasn’t talking about trivial vanity. He was talking about every aspect of her life.

  Apparently Roy had filled John in on the other details she hadn’t divulged. Although she’d prefer him to have kept his big mouth shut, she understood. Roy wanted nothing but the best for her. If he’d shared personal information about her to John, he’d done it to protect her.

  Just like John had last night.

  “I know where you’re going with this.”

  His brows rose as he edged closer. “You do? Is this some sort of psychic thing?”

  “No,” she half-laughed. “I meant that I understand you were looking out for me, not trying to control me.”

  “Good.”

  “But I’d still like to hear the recording.”

  A flash of disappointment crossed his face. “Fine, before you do though, that lead you gave us on the hairdresser paid off big time. Great job.”

  “Really?” She hadn’t expected that. After he’d left last night, she’d practically run to her basement where she’d put her anger, frustration, and hurt into some serious baking.

  While she’d placed the croissants that were needed for this morning’s breakfast rush at the diner into the double oven, she’d had a Nancy Drew moment. She’d been unable to shake the lead on the hairdresser out of her head. She’d also been determined to show John she deserved to remain a part of the investigation, so she’d called the hair salon she used and made an appointment.

  At the time, the idea had seemed brilliant, but this morning as she’d stood in Eau Claire’s only posh salon, she’d thought it plain stupid. How many hairstylists by the name of Judy worked in Wisconsin? Yet her stylist, Tish, knew her, and had not only given her a well needed trim, but a lead. She’d also been the one to talk her into the manicure.

  “Yeah, thanks to you, we were able to ID the girl from the bog. Her parents had been out of town, which was why there hadn’t been a missing persons report on her.” He sighed, and she caught the sadness in his eyes before he spoke again. “They saw her body earlier this afternoon and confirmed that she’s their daughter.”

  “What was her name?”

  “Courtney.”

  “Courtney,” she echoed, and with her stomach churning, she hugged a throw pillow to her chest and nodded to the cell phone. “Let me hear.”

  “You’re sure? You don’t have to. I could just tell you what you’d said.”

  “Like you did with the trance I had in your car about Courtney?”

  “Welcome back Miss Sarcasm.”

  “Sorry,” she said with a sheepish shrug. “Were you able to gain any leads off this last trance?”

  With a gusty sigh, he nodded. “Yes.”

  “Good, tell me about them afterward. Could you please play it for me now?” she asked before losing her nerve. She’d never had a trance until two days ago. Her mother never mentioned having them, either. While she needed to know what she’d said, what she’d physically gone through, a part of her would rather bury her head in the sand. She feared the trance might be way worse than any vision she’d ever endured.

  “Fine.” He hit a button on his cell.

  The living room filled with her recorded voice, rambling on about how she’d saved Lloyd. She smiled at the memory, and the man he’d become, then again as John’s soothing and affectionate voice mingled with hers. She looked at him then, and realized this was only the calm before the storm.

  His eyes had grown wild with anger and fear. She’d seen the same look last night, but it hadn’t registered. Dread gripped her, especially when the recording went dead silent.

  She waited, her heart pounding with anticipation. Then a low whisper drifted from the cell phone. She barely recognized her own voice, the sheer terror it held as it ebbed, then faded. Cold fear wrapped around her, sending chills through her body.

  Suddenly a shocking, horrifying scream sliced through the room. She jumped, then cowered into the sofa cushions. The cold fear that had cocooned her with icy fingers became a frightening maelstrom of panic and dread.

  She rocked back and forth as her living room filled with her voice, so desperate and scared. Gripping the pillow tighter while tears streamed down her cheeks, she wished the stupid cell phone would somehow malfunction. All she’d have to do was tell John to put an end to it and she knew he would. She couldn’t bring herself tell him, though. Somehow the second victim from her visions had channeled herself though her body last night, and as much as she didn’t want to hear anymore, she forced herself to listen. The woman deserved to be heard. She deserved justice.

  Silently crying, her stomach knotting, then twisting with horror and anxiety, she sat through it all. The brutal sodomy and the eventual death of the woman who had been beaten by her mother, been called fat and useless, then murdered by two sick bastards without a care.

  As her tinny voice faded, she honed in on the alarm that edged John’s voice as he’d tried to rouse her from the trance. Regret, sharp and painful, sliced her to the core. She’d been selfish and childish, and now wished to God she hadn’t forced him to relive the trance once again.

  Wiping her eyes, she met his gaze. “I think I’ve heard enough...wait,” she said, as the almighty decree he’d laid on her after the trance filtered from the cell phone. As she listened, she couldn’t stop the guilt resonating through her mind. She’d remembered that moment, when she’d first woken, disoriented and discombobulated. He’d only wanted to protect her from herself a
nd she’d lashed out at him.

  The recording ended. Deafening silence followed.

  Yet her head swirled with her voice and his. The rape and murder of the unknown woman mingled with his compassion and his panic. At that moment, the cold fear which had been clutching her tightly diminished, warmth spread throughout her body and straight into her heart and soul. She’d abruptly stumbled into the impossible. A man worth risking her heart, despite the consequences.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, his eyes trained on her, his fists clenched as if he was holding back from touching her.

  She needed his touch right now, his comfort and strength. “The leads from this,” she said, waving a hand at the cell phone. “God, John, there’s so many.”

  He pocketed the phone. “I know.”

  “Winston had to be the man with the beard. If he’s in jail that means...” She tossed the pillow to the floor and ran a shaky hand across her forehead. Fear greater than she’d ever experienced rippled through her. “That means the other killer could be anywhere. Even here, in Wissota Falls.”

  Now she understood why he didn’t think she should be alone. Why he’d been angry, afraid and determined to protect her. If the killer knew she was involved with the investigation, she could become one of his victims. She shuddered, swiping the tears from her face. “I’m so sorry, John. I didn’t know.”

  In an instant he was beside her, cradling her in his arms. “I know, baby. I’m sorry you had to listen to it.”

  “My fault. I’m the one who insisted. You tried to stop me, tried to protect me.”

  He drew back, then cupped her face with his large, warm palms. “I promise you’ll be protected. Even if it means I have to sleep on your couch every night until we catch him. I swear. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  The vehemence and determination in his voice, along with the prospect of having him at her house every night, made her heart clench. Only...while he’d said he cared about her, she’d rather have him staying the night because he wanted to, not as a watchdog. “Thank you. But you don’t have to do that. I could have Will or Lloyd—”

  “No.” He dropped his hands to her shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze. “I mean, that’s fine if I have to be away for some reason, but I’d rather...” He sighed and rested his forehead against hers.

  Slipping one hand into his hair, she asked, “Stay with me?”

  “Yeah,” he whispered, his breath fanning across her lips as he nudged his nose against hers. “How do you feel about that?” He brushed his mouth against the corner of hers. “How do you feel about complicated?”

  She raised her head and stared into his eyes. The need and passion in their dark depths nearly took her breath away. Yet her stomach tightened with a combination of hopefulness and despair. Complicated could break her heart. But she’d endure the hurt, the pain of losing him once he left Wissota Falls. He’d come to mean so much to her in such a short time. She’d rather give herself to him, take what he offered now, however much he was capable of, and worry about the consequences later. She’d been so lonely, and cared for him too deeply.

  She slipped her hand to his cheek. “Complicated? I think I can handle that.”

  He sifted his hands through her hair and held her head, her lips inches from his. “You’re sure?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, then with their eyes locked she leaned into him.

  His firm lips crushed against hers. She met his searing kiss, savored his taste, his hot caress as he moved his hand down her back forcing her chest against his. As he deepened the kiss, thrusting and twining his tongue against hers, she knew what was about to happen went way beyond complicated. The complexity of their relationship, their situation could be dealt with later, though. Right now, she wanted to feel. His passion, his lust, his hands and mouth on every inch of her body.

  The clouds shifted, and afternoon sunlight spilled into the living room through the large bay windows. With reluctance, she drew away from his burning kiss afraid her nosy neighbor might pass down the sidewalk and catch her and John on the couch having sex. She hadn’t been with a man in years, and there was no way in hell she’d allow the wicked witch next door, or the afternoon paperboy, or anyone else to interfere with her pleasure.

  She caught his frown and smiled. “I like a little kink, but I’m not an exhibitionist,” she said, and nodded to the windows.

  Grinning, he took her hand, and he helped her from the couch. “I’m intrigued. Define a little kink for me.”

  Rising to her tiptoes, she leaned in then gave his lower lip a playful tug with her teeth. “Would you really rather stand here and talk the afternoon away?”

  His eyes grew impossibly darker and swirled with heat. “No way,” he said against her lips before he kissed her. His tongue, teeth and lips seduced hers as they made their way from the living room. When they reached the foyer, anxious to have his hands on her, she jerked her t-shirt over her head and dropped it on the floor.

  He cupped her breasts as they moved toward the steps leading to the second floor, to her bedroom. Teasing her nipples through the lace of her bra with his fingers, he dragged his lips and tongue along her neck. When the first step hit the back of her calf, she clung to his broad shoulders for support. With a rough chuckle, he lifted her in his arms.

  “What are you doing?” She hadn’t been carried like this since she’d been a child.

  He kissed the tip of her nose. “Getting us to your bedroom before we wind up making love on the steps.”

  Making love.

  That wasn’t what they were about to do, but it did have a nice ring to it.

  Sex.

  That’s all this afternoon would amount to. Hot, raw, passionate sex.

  And she’d take what she could, even if she knew deep down, to the darkest depths of her soul, that she wanted more. That she wanted to take things beyond complicated.

  When he finally reached her bedroom, his lips still locked on hers, he set her down on the bed. Breathing hard, he broke away, then kissed a path from her neck to her stomach. “You have too many clothes on.” He unfastened her jeans, then dragged them down her legs.

  Heat flooded between her thighs. “Same goes for you.” Prepared to try to play the part of a seductress, loosen his belt, unbutton his shirt, she moved toward him. Her hands shook, along with her entire body. The need to have him over her, under her, inside her was too overwhelming. The heat and lust in his eyes made it difficult to navigate the buttons on his shirt.

  He brushed her hands away. “Let me.”

  With amazing speed, he unbuttoned his shirt. As soon as he’d stripped down to his boxer briefs, he covered her with his hard body. She wished he would have waited a second or two. Unsure if this was a one time thing, she wanted to memorize each and every detail of the contours of his body. The moment his lips met hers he twisted and positioned her on top of him. She lost all sense of thought.

  Releasing her lips, he peppered the column of her throat with firm, open-mouthed kisses, then followed the trail with his velvety tongue. Nibbling and nipping at her sensitive skin, he skimmed his hands along her spine.

  He sighed into her ear before giving her lobe a gentle nip. “Take your bra off for me. Let me see you.”

  The wannabe seductress inside her took advantage. She straddled his erection, wishing he would have removed his boxers when he’d stripped. She wanted him naked and inside of her. But they had time for that.

  With her hands balanced on his chest, she stared down at him. His eyes gleamed with passion. His heart drummed under her palms. With a shamelessness she’d never experienced before, she teased her fingers through the hair lining the slabs of muscle across his chest. She loved the feel of his hardness under her hands and moved lower to explore, trailing her fingertips to where the hair disappeared beneath his boxers.

  She scooted down a bit, then rubbed her hand along the length of him, and lifted her lips in a small smile when he caught his breath. When he dropped his
head against the mattress, she stroked him. Rubbing, gripping...

  John sucked in a deep breath and covered her hand with his. “Stop.” Christ, he hadn’t had sex in two years, if she kept touching him, he’d come in a matter of seconds. And he wasn’t ready for that yet. He wanted to enjoy her body, make her his in every way possible. “The bra,” he reminded her.

  She cocked her head to the side as if she were considering, then flashed him a seductive smile. Damn, she was something else. Her head fell back, blond curls brushed her shoulders as she reached her arms behind her. He held his breath while he watched her take her sweet time, toying and teasing, tormenting and inflaming his lust.

  Finally, she slipped her lacy bra down her toned arms. Her breasts danced with the movement and his mouth watered for a taste of her nipples.

  “You’re absolutely beautiful.” He leaned forward, then grabbed her rear. Grinding her against his cock, he latched onto one of those rosy peaks. She tasted as sweet as she smelled. Sugar and spice. He feasted, sucked and tugged on one stiff peak before moving to the other. Heaven. Pure bliss. He wanted...needed more.

  He moved her beneath him, gave one wet nipple a final kiss, then stood between her outstretched legs. She was an erotic picture. Creamy skin flushed and heated. Loose blond curls spilling across the bed, pink nipples begging for attention.

  He leaned over her, ran his hand along the column of her throat. Caressed her full breasts then trailed his fingers across her flat stomach. When he reached her panties, he grabbed the waistband and practically tore them from her body.

  No more teasing. Not now. He’d lusted after her since the moment they’d met, that initial erotic, sensual touch never far from his mind. But what he’d felt for her had become more than that. He cared. Deeper than he’d ever cared about a woman before. He’d joked about making love on the stairs, but in reality, it wasn’t a joke. He wasn’t about to make that leap between lust and love, or caring and love, or sex and love.

  Fuck. Talk about complicated.