I'm Watching You

by Mary Burton

  As their gazes held, she felt a change in the atmosphere. He wanted to kiss her. And she wanted to kiss him.

  This is stupid, she thought, yet she didn’t move away.

  Leaning forward, he kissed her. The kiss was soft, gentle, a testing of the waters, but it was enough to set her on fire. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. Warm lips molded against hers.

  Zack pressed her back against the door, deepening the kiss. A calloused hand slid up under her tank top and cupped her breast and teased her nipple into a hard peak. Sexual desire exploded. She moaned her pleasure and pushed her tongue into his mouth.

  This doesn’t mean anything. This isn’t reconciliation. This is purely about sexual release.

  And the need for sexual fulfillment overrode everything. Lindsay refused to think about tomorrow, this damn house, or her messed-up childhood. She just wanted sex and the temporary ecstasy it promised.

  Zack moved his mouth to the base of her neck as he pressed his body against her. His hand slid from her breast down to her flat stomach. His fingers moved under the waistband of her shorts to the nest of hair. He explored her moist, tender flesh and she thought she’d explode.

  She cupped his buttocks with her hands and then slid her hands over his hard, flat stomach. It felt so good to touch him, as if she had come home.

  She reached for the buckle of his belt and unfastened it, then unhooked the button on his pants. She pushed the fabric away and wrapped her hands around the smooth hardness of his erection.

  Zack kissed her harder, driving his tongue deep into her mouth. A deep primal groan rumbled in his throat. ‘I’ve dreamed about this,’ he murmured.

  So had she but she couldn’t speak the words out loud. Her hesitation had him pulling back to study her face. Rigid control held his lovemaking at bay. ‘Do you want this, Lindsay?’

  She didn’t want to think. She just wanted to feel.

  But he seemed to need to hear the words. ‘Do you want this?’

  She moistened her lips, which now tasted of him. ‘Yes. I want this.’

  Those words were all Zack needed to hear. He yanked her shorts and panties down, exposing her. She was moist, ready. He pressed his erection against her and kissed her on the lips. His kisses trailed down her neck to her cleavage. He licked the top of her breasts. This was strictly about sexual need, she told herself.

  ‘God, I’ve missed you.’ His warm breath brushed against her cheek as he spoke.

  The need in her had built to a fever pitch. The pulse in her loins had robbed her of everything other than the desire for fulfillment. She stepped out of her shorts and panties and pressed her body against his. ‘Don’t make me wait any more.’

  His kiss devoured her lips, and then in one swift move he lifted her off the floor as if she weighed nothing. He pressed her back against the door and she wrapped her legs around his waist and guided his erection to her. He drove into her. For a moment, she was overwhelmed by the sensation of him stretching inside her. Seeming to sense this, he went still and waited for her to become accustomed to him.

  She dug her fingers into his back as he started to slowly move inside her.

  Desire built and then she dropped her head against the door as the first spasms rolled over her and rocketed through her body. Within seconds a violent orgasm washed over her.

  Zack pushed harder into her. Faster and faster. Tension racked every muscle in his body and he pushed in to the hilt. And then he stiffened and came inside her.

  He collapsed against her and rested his face in the crook of her neck. Neither moved. Their hearts hammered in their chests. His breath felt warm and soothing against her skin.

  For a brief moment, she felt at peace, as if everything in the world made sense.

  But as the seconds clicked away, the passion faded. And as quickly as it had risen, it vanished. Even with him close against her, she felt a chill as the full emotional impact of what they’d done sank in. They’d had sex.

  Unprotected sex. No birth control. Jesus, she’d lost her mind.

  Lindsay shifted under his weight. ‘Zack.’

  His breathing had slowed to a lazy pace. ‘Yes.’

  She tried to wriggle out from under his weight. ‘This was a mistake, Zack. It shouldn’t have happened.’

  He nuzzled her neck. ‘It didn’t feel like a mistake. It felt pretty damn incredible.’

  God, she’d been so stupid. Tasha had just warned her not to come into the house but she didn’t listen. ‘Zack, I need to go.’

  He raised his head and held her gaze. He looked confused. ‘Why?’

  ‘I just need to go.’

  ‘Stay.’

  She pushed him away and yanked up her panties and shorts. ‘I’ve got to go.’

  He stepped back and jerked up his undershorts and trousers. ‘Don’t just run away, Lindsay. I want to talk about this. There’s too much between us that needs to be dealt with.’

  Panic rumbled inside her. ‘I don’t want to talk.’

  ‘We have to talk.’

  ‘I can’t. I can’t love you again. I can’t.’

  ‘Lindsay, please stay.’

  ‘No.’ She fumbled for the doorknob, turned it, and rushed outside. The heat and humidity had already burned through the crisp morning air.

  She hurried down the three steps. Her legs felt like rubber, and she needed to keep her gaze trained ahead. And still, she turned to look at him again.

  Zack stood in the doorway. His shirt was untucked as he ran fingers through his dark hair. He expression looked stricken.

  ‘Let me drive you to your car,’ Zack said.

  She needed to get as far away from Zack as she could. She would not allow herself to trust him again. He would never hurt her again. ‘No. Thanks.’

  He came out onto the front porch and halfway across the yard. ‘Lindsay, use some common sense.’

  Hysterical laughter bubbled in her chest. She’d lost all her common sense. She felt like she was losing her mind.

  She turned and started to run, picking up her pace as if her life depended on it.

  God help her.

  She still loved Zack.

  But this time, she didn’t look back.

  Chapter Twenty

  Wednesday, July 9, 8:10 A.M.

  As Zack drove in to work, he was in a foul mood when his cell phone rang. Sex with Lindsay had been better than he could have imagined. And for a moment he’d thought their troubles were behind them and they would find a way back together. And then she’d panicked and bolted.

  He took the Parham North exit off I-64 toward police headquarters. He unhooked the phone from his belt and snapped, ‘Detective Kier.’

  ‘It’s Warwick. We’ve got another mutilated body.’

  Zack’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. ‘Where?’

  ‘At Meadow Farm Park.’

  Zack glanced at the dashboard clock. ‘I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.’

  He did a U-turn at the intersection, merged onto I-64 east, and followed the interstate to the Mountain Road exit. He pulled into the graveled parking lot. A dozen cruisers, blue lights flashing, filled the lot. It looked like a three-ring circus.

  Zack got out of the car. Already the heat of the day was oppressive. Sweat trickled down his back. He removed his coat, tossed it in the backseat, and rolled up his sleeves. He headed toward Warwick, who stood outside the yellow tape that roped off a colorful playground play set. ‘What do we have?’

  Warwick wore khakis and a black T-shirt. His gold badge hung around his neck. ‘The call came in about a half hour ago. A jogger found the body.’

  Both donned rubber gloves and put paper booties on their shoes.

  ‘Ayden will be along soon,’ Warwick said. ‘The chief is chewing his ass out. The county manager is going nuts. The area hasn’t seen a stranger murder in years and now we’ve had two in three days. It looks like no one is sleeping until this guy is caught.’

  Zack followed Wa
rwick under the yellow tape into the wooded area. The body was propped against a thick oak tree. The victim was a white male in his midforties with a shock of black hair on his head and dark stubble covering his square jaw. His jeans and burgundy sports shirt were covered in dirt, blood, and the thick scent of urine. His left hand had been cut off.

  ‘I know this guy,’ Zack said.

  ‘Burt Saunders,’ Warwick said. ‘He attacked Lindsay yesterday as she left work for lunch.’

  Zack shoved out a breath. He hoped Lindsay had an alibi.

  ‘He wasn’t shot,’ Warwick said. His expression was grim. ‘It looks like Saunders bled out from his wrist and a sliced femoral.’

  ‘Jesus,’ Zack said.

  Warwick pointed to the body. ‘He has pronounced bruising on his right hand and around his ankles. He fought against his restraints.’

  Zack squatted, studied the body. ‘There’s not much blood here. He was killed somewhere else.’

  ‘Wherever he died has to be soaked in blood.’

  Humid heat clung to Zack’s skin as he stared at the stump that had been Saunders’s left hand. ‘Look at the cuts. The killer wasn’t in a rush. He worked the guy over pretty well.’

  Warwick frowned. ‘And the victim is another connection to Lindsay.’

  Zack was loyal to his wife. ‘Lindsay is no murderer.’

  Warwick’s silence telegraphed his uncertainty. ‘Do you know where she was last night?’

  ‘No.’ He sighed. ‘Where is the guy’s wife?’

  Warwick checked his notebook. ‘His wife, Gail, has a sister in Blacksburg. I called there a half hour ago and spoke to Gail. And her sister will verify that Gail hasn’t left her sight since she arrived thirty-six hours ago.’

  Two men who both were accused of beating their wives were dead. Both wives had an alibi. Jesus. He didn’t want to consider that they had a serial killer on their hands.

  ‘Is there a note?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Any sign of the hand?’

  ‘Not yet.’ Warwick shoved the notebook in his back pocket. ‘I reviewed the Channel 10 news tape from Monday. The cameraman caught the edge of a vehicle arriving at Sanctuary and a delivery man sprinting to the door with a flower box. The tape shuts off before he turns. I can’t tell what kind of vehicle it was and the driver is unrecognizable.’

  ‘You think it was the Guardian?’

  Warwick nodded as he stared at Saunders’s body.

  The rumble of a truck had them both turning. The Channel 10 news van rolled to a stop.

  Kendall Shaw got out. She looked cool and sophisticated as her gaze scanned the scene. A faint smile danced behind her eyes.

  ‘Speak of the devil,’ Warwick said, staring at her. ‘She’s eating this up with a spoon.’

  ‘This story will be national by tomorrow.’

  Zack watched the reporter approach the yellow tape. The uniforms blocked her advance. The patrolman would keep her out of their hair for the time being.

  ‘Where is Lindsay now?’ Warwick said.

  The image of her fleeing his house an hour ago dug at him. ‘I’m guessing she’s at home.’

  ‘We’d better head over there.’

  ‘You’re right. If the Guardian repeats his last performance, she’s going to get another hand.’

  ‘She also has questions to answer,’ Warwick said.

  ‘Let’s go.’

  The forensics van arrived. Sara got out and Kendall Shaw was forgotten. The tedious process of data collection began.

  As Kendall Shaw watched Kier and Warwick leave the murder scene, she tapped a manicured finger against the side of her microphone. ‘Now why are they leaving?’

  Her cameraman, Mike, a tall burly man with a walrus mustache, hoisted a camera on his shoulder. ‘Is it important?’

  ‘He’s investigating a murder and he leaves five minutes after arriving with the other lead detective. You know he’s married to Lindsay O’Neil?’

  ‘No shit?’

  ‘Yeah. I searched her name at the Department of Vital Statistics. Their marriage license popped up.’

  ‘They don’t act like they’re married.’

  ‘Separated.’

  Where was Lindsay’s husband going? She’d bet money that he was headed out to find Lindsay.

  ‘Hurry up and shoot as much as you can.’

  ‘I’m not going to get much. The cops have us too far back and they’ve parked their vans right in front of the body.’

  ‘Can we get enough if I need to fall back and write a report?’

  ‘Give me twenty minutes.’

  ‘Good. After you’re finished we’re leaving.’

  ‘Where, dare I ask?’

  ‘I want to go to Lindsay O’Neil’s town house.’

  Mike lowered the camera, giving her a ‘you’re a diva’ look. ‘And why is that?’

  God, he could be so shortsighted. ‘Because,’ she said, lowering her voice, ‘Lindsay O’Neil’s husband just left the crime scene and he’d only do that if it were really important. He’s worried about his wife.’

  Mike shrugged. ‘Okay. Whatever.’

  ‘Let’s shoot those scenes and get over to Lindsay’s.’

  *

  Lindsay lingered in the shower longer than she should have. But the hot water felt good against her skin. And she hoped if she stayed under the cleansing spray long enough she’d erase the memory of this morning from her mind. She had soaped up her entire body and washed and applied conditioner to her hair. Now, as she rinsed the conditioner from her hair, the hot water started to cool. She’d drained the hot water heater.

  After shutting off the water spray, she toweled off. Through the fog on the bathroom mirror she stared at herself. ‘What insanity possessed you today?’

  She turned away, then dressed in a simple black skirt and a white collared shirt. Normally, she didn’t wear a skirt to work, but normally she didn’t have to cancel morning appointments to make time for a meeting with Dana. She dried her hair and put on lipstick and mascara before sweeping her hair into a ponytail, then headed downstairs.

  Lindsay made a fresh pot of coffee. As the machine spit and hissed, she stared out the back window into her garden. Normally, just staring at the lush plants calmed her. But not today. Today she was filled with a restlessness that made her feel as if she could jump out of her skin.

  Sex with Zack. It was the dumbest thing she could have done.

  Lindsay had sworn she’d never be like her mother. In college she’d been labeled ‘ice queen’ by the men she’d dated on campus. She’d refused to get close to anyone, because no man was going to ruin her life. Or make her repeat her mother’s mistakes.

  But the moment she’d met Zack, all her vows to keep men at arm’s distance had vanished. When she’d met him, he’d had long hair and worn a small gold hoop in his left ear. He’d had a two-day growth of beard on his chin and he’d reminded her of a pirate.

  From the very beginning, she’d been drawn to him. She hated the terms soul mates and We were meant to be, but both described how she’d felt about Zack in the early days. The ice had melted, and for the first time life was filled with brilliant color and hope.

  He was dedicated to his work. He loved catching the bad guys, as he liked to say. In her mind, he was the warrior-protector. With him, she felt safe.

  Their third date had been a charity fund-raiser for the yet to be opened Sanctuary. It was a pancake breakfast and she’d vowed to make and sell a thousand hotcakes to raise money for the shelter. She’d had five volunteers on board to help, and when two hadn’t shown up, she’d panicked. Zack had chosen that moment to stop by, and when she’d told him of her dilemma, he’d rolled up his sleeves and started making pancakes. He’d dazzled the crowds and was a better cook than she was.

  They’d made love for the first time that night. And Zack had been touched and humbled when she’d shyly confessed that she was a virgin.

  After that their courtship had been quick,
hot, and intense. They’d met in March and by mid-April they were on a plane bound for Las Vegas. They’d driven straight from the airport in a rented Jeep with the top down. The sky had been a brilliant blue and the air warm.

  Lindsay had been nervous but Zack had been steady as a rock. They’d bypassed the hotel and gone to the Little White Chapel, ending up in the Chapel of Promises in front of a justice of the peace. They’d both worn jeans and she’d carried a bouquet of white roses that Zack had purchased at the chapel. They’d exchanged traditional vows and in that moment Lindsay had believed in happy endings.

  But once they had returned home the tide had quickly turned against them. Lindsay had thrown herself into the creation of Sanctuary and Zack had returned to undercover work almost immediately. His case, which had involved child trafficking, had required that he be gone for days at a time. When he had been home, he had drank more than she had thought was good for him. When she’d mentioned his drinking to him, he’d told her to back off. His anger had felt like a betrayal and she’d fallen into her old habit – she’d retreated into herself.

  Zack had apologized. She’d accepted his apology. He’d confessed that the case wasn’t going well – that he’d seen things that could never be erased from his mind. She’d tried to understand. They’d made love and she’d thought that was the end of it. But within days he had been drinking again and they had been fighting again.

  As quickly as they’d fallen in love, they’d seemed to have fallen out of love. The wall that had risen between them felt unbreakable.

  And then this morning Zack had touched her, and her vows to guard her heart had evaporated. In those explosive moments, there’d only been the heat of his touch and the pulse of desire in her body.

  ‘Stupid, stupid, stupid.’

  Yesterday, she’d spoken to Nicole about options regarding pregnancy. She’d sounded so reasonable and so calm. But now that she faced the same problem, black and white faded to gray. Her hands slid protectively to her stomach. What if she was pregnant?

  Lindsay halted her dangerous train of thought. ‘Don’t borrow trouble.’

  After clicking off the coffee machine, she got her purse. She had no time to spare if she was going to get downtown for her nine o’clock meeting with Dana.