Dangerous

by Patricia Rosemoor

“Told you.”

  Stepping inside the kitchen, she half closed the door behind her as she grabbed the dog’s collar. He was a big, mottled black and brown beast of undetermined origin. Looked like a street dog. Sounded like one, too, as he pitched himself toward Drago. But as she murmured sweet nothings to the beast and surrounded him with her affection—something Drago could only envy—the dog calmed down and whistled through his nose.

  “Good boy.” Still holding on to his collar, Camille opened the door. “You’re free to do what you want now.”

  If only that were true.

  Chapter Three

  All too aware of Drago’s presence in her home, Camille feared turning her back on him. Feared he might get her at a disadvantage. She needed to be on point, all right. With him. She wouldn’t give him a chance to score another victory with her.

  Even as she thought it, the word “victory” made her queasy. That wasn’t the way it had been, not then. Only afterward, when she hadn’t heard from him as promised, had she cheapened the amazing connection they’d made by viewing their weekend as a win for him, even though she’d gotten as much out of it—maybe more—than he had. She didn’t do relationships, but she would have made an exception for Drago Nance. Only he hadn’t called, and then he’d showed his contempt for the law by punching a prosecutor, and her fantasy of what might be between them had shattered.

  “Good boy,” she murmured to the dog as she let go of his collar.

  Max immediately moved closer to Drago, who simply ignored him until the dog lost interest.

  Camille noticed his gaze running over the ancient kitchen, which she would someday find the time and money to renovate, then he moved into the dining room and kept on until he reached the living room at the front of the house. The bungalow was nearly a century old, but it had details like original crown molding and solid hardwood floors with character and small stained-glass windows on either side of the wood-burning fireplace. It was the historical details that had sold her on the house.

  “So you bought this place on your own?” he asked.

  “I didn’t win it in a lottery.”

  “You could have inherited it.”

  “My parents are still alive, but they’re real suburban people. I’m lucky they come into the city to visit me occasionally.” They’d done their best to stop her not only from moving into Chicago but from becoming a cop. “They wouldn’t live in the dangerous city on a bet.”

  “Are they wrong?”

  “Every place has its dangers,” Camille said, her mind going back to her own past. “Big cities aren’t the only places predators prey on their victims.”

  He frowned at her. “Are you speaking from experience?”

  “You could say that.”

  “So tell me.”

  “When I was a kid, a friend of mine went missing.” A guilt that never left her. The reason she did what she did. “Not a good outcome. What about your parents? Are they city people?”

  “They are. Not this city anymore, though. A decade ago, Dad was offered a promotion, but the job was in Cleveland, so my parents moved.” He narrowed his gaze on her. “But we were talking about you. Why do I get the feeling there’s more to that story about your friend that you don’t want to talk about?”

  Because he was correct. She’d never talked to anyone about Emily and what had happened the day her best friend had disappeared except for the therapist her parents had taken her to, and she wasn’t about to share now. “Why do you care?”

  “I like to know everything about the clients I work with.”

  Camille didn’t think so. He wanted to know about her. But why? He’d never called. There was no reason to think he’d retained any interest in her after four years.

  “I’m not your usual client. I’m not the victim.”

  “If you say so.”

  “So is that why you wanted to come here? So you could annoy me instead of help me find Sandy?”

  In answer, he pulled a laptop computer from his case. “I assume you still have your Internet connection. What about your router, or did they take that, too?”

  Thinking he still had a way with words that annoyed her, she said, “They just took the tower.”

  She indicated the bay area where she liked to work because of the great light. The surface of the old mahogany pedestal desk she’d found in a secondhand store held only the router and monitor.

  Drago set his laptop on the desk, lifted the lid, and turned it on. “Backup?”

  She shook her head. “Oh, they took that, too.”

  “I don’t mean a physical backup. Surely you use the cloud in case your computer bails on you.”

  “Well, yeah, of course.”

  “And I assume you saved any conversations you had with Angel.”

  She nodded. “I saved as much as I could. And I might be able to find him, get him to talk to me.”

  “Not a good idea. Remember, he’s been duped, and unless he’s stupid, he knows it. Give him time to cool off.”

  “We don’t have time.”

  “You said she’s not his type,” he reminded her. “Try to focus on that. Stay positive.”

  She would try.

  Watching Drago work, setting up the laptop to download her copy from the ether, she felt the pressure ease a little. “You seem pretty expert at this stuff.”

  “I know my way around a computer.”

  Like he knew his way around women? Camille wondered.

  What was she thinking? Drago was here for one reason, and he was making the situation seem a little less impossible. She was glad she didn’t have to work alone. Justus had assured her his brother was the man for this job. Truthfully, he seemed on top of things. Seemed to know what to do next. She had to believe that Justus was correct, that working with his brother would allow her to find Angel and make sure she got to Sandy before it was too late. Her only consolation was that Angel’s pattern was to keep his victims alive for quite a while, giving them the time they would need to find her.

  “Okay, download complete.” Drago got up from his chair and indicated she should sit. “Sign in to the chat room where you found Angel. And bring up whatever it is you saved.”

  Nodding, she brushed him as they changed places, but she ignored the awareness that flared through her and sat to do what he asked. She had to concentrate. Had to do the job she should have finished before Angel had finished Leanne Grant. It couldn’t happen again. Couldn’t happen to Sandy.

  Concentrate!

  Focusing her attention on the laptop, she brought up her saved conversations with Angel, and then entered the chat room where she’d finally found him. She quickly looked at the list of participants.

  “He’s not here.” Not that she’d expected him to be. “His avatar is a black angel holding a sword.”

  “Leave it up. We can check again. I’d like to look at those saved conversations, get a bead on this guy. So you have no idea of what he looks like?”

  “The kid working the coffee stand where he met Sandy said he had longish curly blond hair, that he was tall and well built. Footage we got from the camera at the parking lot door confirmed that. We got a look at it last night. Unfortunately, he must have known about the camera, because he kept his head down and turned away from it so basically all we got was his size and hair color.” She stood and changed places again, this time careful not to make physical contact. “As far as his profile goes, he’s laid back, waits until a woman shows interest in him. Then waits some more.” He’d made her wait and had chosen to pursue her when she hadn’t been here. “Waits to kill them, too, thankfully.”

  “Was the desktop your only computer?”

  “I have an old laptop I don’t use anymore. I’m assuming it still works.”

  “Can you get it? We can download everything again.”

  “Sure.” About to ask why they needed two computers, she figured he simply didn’t want to leave his at her place, and she would need another to keep an eye on the chat room
. “I’ll get it.”

  She headed for her bedroom where she’d left it. Before buying a tablet, she’d used the small computer while propped up in bed. About the most interesting thing that had gone on in that room for quite some time. Not that she hadn’t been with anyone else since that weekend with Drago. She’d tried dating a few men if for no other reason than to forget him, but she hadn’t felt that primal attraction, hadn’t been able to get enough of that something indescribable with anyone but him. All it took was a couple of disappointing nights to make her choose to wait until she met a man who made her feel something stronger. Something irresistible. So she’d shut down. If her work hadn’t been her life before, it was now.

  Feeling the vibration in her pocket, she pulled out her cell and saw an incoming call from her mother. Concerned about her daughter working such a dangerous case, Mom had been calling a lot lately. Camille had been avoiding her. No way did she want her parents to know the trouble she was in. Mom wasn’t about to stop, so she’d better answer the call and put her mother’s nerves to rest.

  “Hey, Mom.”

  “Camille, honey, why haven’t you returned my calls the last few days? We’ve been worried about you.”

  What else was new? “Sorry, Mom. I’ve just been so busy with work, I haven’t had a minute to myself.” Which was true.

  “Is it that same case? The young women being killed?”

  “Yep, the same one.”

  “Can’t you let someone else take this one?”

  “Mom, we’ve talked about this before. It’s my job. I don’t get to pick and choose what I want or don’t want to do.” Camille kept her voice upbeat and stress free. “I get assigned to cases. You’ve got to stop worrying about me. I’m good at what I do.”

  “I can’t ever stop worrying about my daughter, especially considering what you do for a living.”

  “And I do appreciate it, Mom, really. Listen, I’m going to have to get going. I’m in the middle of something. You won’t hear from me at least for a few days. We got an unexpected turn in the case—”

  “You’ve got a lead on the killer?”

  “Well, not yet, but I will.” She kept that positive note in her tone. “And after he’s arrested, I’ll come out to see you and Dad. Maybe we can do brunch.”

  “Oh, your father would love that.”

  “Well, I love him, and I love you. See you both soon.”

  “All right, honey. Love you.”

  Camille disconnected and took a shaky breath. It had taken everything in her to sound positive and upbeat to reassure Mom. Now she was simply shaky. If her parents knew the risks she took, they would never sleep easy. As it was, they hated her job even more than they hated her living in the city. Though she wished she could confide in her mother, at least, she couldn’t do that to her. Which meant she had no one with whom she could talk things through when they went wrong. She slipped the cell back into her pocket and opened a bottom dresser drawer.

  “Hey, what’s taking so long?”

  Fetching the laptop, she turned to find Drago standing in the doorway. His gaze flicked past her for a second—to the bed—and then back to her again, effectively pinning her in place. The breath caught in her throat and the skin along her arms prickled. Four years and she hadn’t beat the attraction that had pulled her straight into his arms. But not now; they were too different, she thought. Not when she knew he’d committed a felony. She couldn’t afford to make another mistake. Couldn’t afford to be distracted.

  “I had to take a call, but I have the computer now.” She waved it at him.

  “I see.”

  He moved closer, putting her on guard. Now standing in front of her, close enough to touch her, all he did was hold out his hand. She blinked a moment in confusion and then gave him the computer.

  “What, did you think I needed help in here?”

  His eyebrows arched. “Do you?” He flicked his gaze back to the bed for a second.

  She flushed and pushed past him, feeling a slight give in his stance.

  Now following directly behind her, he was close enough to make the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. “Angel is in the chat room.”

  “Why didn’t you say so?” Camille raced ahead to take a look.

  She slid into the chair. Aware of Drago’s breath along her cheek as he bent over to read with her, Camille forced herself to concentrate on the screen. As usual, the chatter was quick and interspersed with porn sites pitching their wares.

  JeanneR: any hot guys want to chat?

  coolboy: my skype j.fuentes10

  Although uncomfortable with Drago so close, Camille began typing.

  Angel: I’m looking for someone

  Carol2: Ooh, how hot are you?

  JeanneR: hey, he’s mine

  grrrl: not if I have anything to say about it

  guest: Meet hot girls! Free! Go to: http://hotgirlsforyoubaby

  The inference of sex made Camille all too aware of the heat pressing into her shoulder where it connected with Drago’s chest, but suddenly she went ice cold inside.

  Angel: actually looking for Morrigan

  Carol2: haven’t seen her online

  JeannR: forget Morrigan—why don’t we meet?

  No response from Angel.

  Biting her lip, Camille took a quick look at the list in the room. “He signed off.” And feeling a bit relieved to be able to move away from the computer and from Drago. “He asked about me…my alter ego.”

  “Because he knows he didn’t get who he expected.”

  Drago was still too close for comfort. And the familiar way he was looking at her, his eyes narrowed suggestively, reminded her of that hotel room.

  “Then why did he take her? Why not leave Sandy alone?”

  Camille felt herself start to unravel. Her knees threatened to buckle and her stomach knotted, and she wasn’t sure which was stronger—her fear for the teenager or the unwanted attraction to her former one-weekend stand.

  “Maybe it’s a new game for him,” Drago said. “Using Sandy as bait to get to you.”

  She could only hope it was that simple, that Sandy was locked up somewhere but untouched. Why hadn’t she taken the time to talk to the kid, to know something more about her? Maybe she would have had a better understanding of her character.

  She’d always told herself she didn’t have time to form relationships because of her job, though on examining her own conscience, she knew it had to do with Emily. How she’d failed her childhood friend. She never wanted to lose anyone like that again. All through high school and college, she’d kept other students at arm’s length. Acquaintances rather than good friends. She’d done the same with her fellow officers other than Justus, and when he’d quit the force, she’d let that friendship slide.

  Distance made her feel safe. Or at least it should.

  But, now, she’d failed Sandy, too.

  “He disappeared from the chat rooms when he had the Grant woman for that week before he tired of her. Once he finished her”—she couldn’t say killed—“he came back. That doesn’t mean he hasn’t done other things to hurt Sandy—”

  Drago’s finger to her lips stopped her. “It’s too early in the game to make assumptions.”

  She slapped his hand away. “Game? Is that what you think this is?”

  “Investigation. I should have said investigation.” He moved closer. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to trivialize your concern or the case. I’m right there with you.”

  The sincerity in his tone neutralized her anger. She came down quickly, so quickly she was shaking. Drago pulled her to him so that she was pressed to his chest, aware of his heartbeat. Aware of more than she wanted to acknowledge. The next thing she knew, she was clinging to him. He rubbed her back gently, wrapped his arms around her, murmured soothing sounds into her ear. Then his lips brushed the side of her neck and her world whirled around her.

  “You have a good reason to be upset,” he said softly, “but you have to keep
steady. You need to be able to tell the good guys from the bad.”

  Closing her eyes, she asked, “Which are you?”

  “Whichever you want me to be.”

  He laughed, a whisper of air stroking her cheek, sending a flutter of something more potent she didn’t want to recognize down her neck. Part of her wanted to push him away and refuse to work with him. But the other part—the part that feared she would ultimately be responsible for a young girl’s death—couldn’t let him go. She’d wrongly thought she could do this alone. Now look at the mess she’d made.

  “No more jokes, Drago, please. I need to know you’re with me.”

  “I’m not only with you, I’m invested,” he said. “I’ve seen a lot of terrible things happen to people I knew and cared about over the years. I’m in this one hundred percent.”

  “Good.”

  Shivering, she tried to make her hands let go of his shirt, but they wouldn’t cooperate. When she glanced up at him, Camille realized he was staring at her intently. His expression suddenly went hard, shooting an uneasy thrill through her middle.

  Why couldn’t she let go of him?

  Why couldn’t she turn away?

  Why didn’t he move?

  His head moved closer, his deep blue eyes zeroing in on hers, making her think he was going to kiss her. Instead, he finally made that move—away from, not toward her—asking, “When was the last time you ate something?”

  Relief fluttered through her. She thought about it a moment, then said, “Yesterday. I had lunch yesterday.”

  “What about the last time you showered?”

  Not today. Not yesterday. The day before, but…“What’s your point?”

  “You look like crap.” He was heading for the kitchen. “Go shower and get some clean clothes on and I’ll make something to eat. You do have food in here, right? Or do I have to order takeout?”

  The unflattering comment stopped Camille halfway through the dining room. He might have a point about what she looked liked at the moment, but that didn’t make it okay for him to say so. She heard the refrigerator door open and still didn’t move. Then he poked his head out the kitchen doorway.

  “Found some out-of-date eggs, but I don’t think they’ll kill us.” His brow furrowed. “What are you waiting for? Go stand under some hot water and get some life back into you.”