Blazing Hotter (Love Under Fire Book 2)

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Blazing Hotter (Love Under Fire Book 2) Page 11

by Chantel Rhondeau


  Cassie sucked in a gasp of air, acid roiling in her stomach. “He killed that last girl not as a surrogate for me but as my replacement?”

  “And if his pattern holds,” Rogers said, “he’ll be after you tonight because he delivered more roses. I need to talk to my lieutenant. I can’t make any promises, but if it’s at all possible, I’d like to get you out of that house and put a cop in place who looks similar. Maybe we can catch this bastard before he strikes again.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Frankie sat across the table from Cassie at a local bakery, Carlie’s Creations, as they sipped coffee and tried to make their stomachs cooperate enough to eat soup. Detective Rogers’s plan to put a sting operation into place to catch the killer was a go. Her higher-ups had been all too ready to jump on an opportunity to catch the perp and restore the city of Sayle’s faith in the police force.

  There was just one problem and the place where everything could go wrong. He’d have to separate from Cassie for a time to convince anyone watching her that he was out of the picture.

  “You ready for this?” he asked softly.

  Her nod was almost imperceptible. “This is such bull,” she said at a louder than normal volume. “I let you do all that crap to my house and it was worthless. Now the cops don’t even believe me. Maybe I am crazy, everyone seems to think so.”

  A few of the nearby diners glanced their direction, obviously listening in. That was exactly what they needed for this to be plausible, especially if the killer was watching them as Detective Rogers suspected.

  “Calm down, Cassie,” Frankie said, letting an edge of impatience creep into his voice. “I think you like to play the victim. All I’ve done is try to help you, so I think you’d show a bit more gratitude.”

  “Help?” She barked out a bitter laugh. If Frankie didn’t know this was all pretend, he really would believe she was angry. “What did your help do? I played nursemaid to you all night while your stupid cameras couldn’t even catch his face.”

  “Stupid cameras?” Frankie raised his voice slightly, proving to the onlookers that his patience was fraying. “My dad spent a shitload of money on those so-called stupid cameras, all to help you because I thought I was falling for you. Amazing what you find out about people after spending a mere twenty-four hours with them.”

  “And just what is that supposed to mean?” she demanded.

  “It means you’re a diva and kind of a bitch. You probably sent that threat to yourself to get attention.”

  “Why would you say that?” She buried her face in her hands. “How could you be so cruel after all I’ve done for you?”

  Her voice really did sound like she held back tears, and Frankie worried he might have taken things too far. Did she really think he was calling her a bitch? It was all an act. She had to know that... didn’t she?

  As he sat uncertain whether to continue forward with the fight or back down to see if she couldn’t handle this, Cassie lifted her head, glaring at him.

  Her red face looked blotchy, as though tears would burst forth any minute, and Frankie couldn’t handle it.

  “I didn’t mean that, Cass. You have to know that I—”

  “You’re a freakin’ cripple, Frankie Hernandez. And furthermore, you spend so much energy feeling sorry for yourself that I’ve been beating my head against the wall trying to help you.” The glare she gave didn’t waver at all, and Frankie cringed at her words. “I think you should call your dad and have him come get you and all your shit out of my house. I’m through taking care of your whiny ass. If you don’t believe me, I’ll just deal with this on my own.”

  Their waitress, Shelley, walked up to the table, looking ready to kick ass if necessary. “Is there a problem here? You guys are disturbing everyone. Do I have to call the cops?”

  “No,” Frankie grumbled, struggling to get his wallet from the pocket on his wheelchair and tossing money on the table. “We’re leaving. Just as soon as I can get ahold of my dad, I’m out of your life for good, Cassie.”

  “Great,” she said. “That suits me just fine. I’ll go get the van and take you back to get your shit out of my house, just make sure your dad is there to meet us. I can’t believe I thought you were a friend.”

  Cassie stood, pushing her way past the waitress and storming out the door.

  “Are you okay?” Shelley’s eyes were wide and she bent to be at eye level with him in his chair. “I’m sure we can find someone to take you somewhere so you don’t have to ride with that woman. What a jerk.”

  Frankie shook his head. “My van’s here, and I need a driver. I have to go to her place anyway because I need the charger for my chair’s battery. She might be a bitch, but I know she’ll get me to my dad. I’ll be okay.”

  She glanced toward the doorway. “You’re sure she won’t leave you?”

  “Not really, but I’ll call the cops and turn her in if she does. I own the van, not her.” Frankie pulled his phone from the pocket. “I could use your help with one thing.”

  “Sure. Anything you need.”

  “My phone doesn’t respond so well to these monster hands I have now after getting caught in a fire. Could you dial the number for my dad so I can talk to him?”

  “You poor man.” The sympathy on Shelley’s face was clear. “I’d be happy to.”

  Frankie told her the number, knowing he had to keep his act up a little longer. The other diners had to believe he was pissed off when he called his father. Luckily, Big Frank already knew the plan and would go storming over to get Frankie instead of trying to knock some sense into his son like he normally would. Everyone would be against Cassie, and the killer would believe he had a free shot at her.

  At least, if everything went according to plan, that’s what would happen. He still hated the fact that he’d be separated from Cassie for a while until the cops could smuggle her from her house and reunite them. If anything happened to her during that time, he’d never forgive himself.

  Still, it was the best shot they had at catching this bastard before he really did find a way to get to her. As much as Frankie wanted to be the hero and protect her, he was at a disadvantage with his injuries and the cops could do the job more efficiently.

  For the first time in his life, Frankie realized that being macho and proving his manhood was much less important than stepping back to make sure the woman he was falling for could be kept safe by those best able to make that happen.

  ***

  Cassie watched Big Frank and Frankie peel out of the driveway, hoping their performance had been sufficient to trick the killer. It had certainly fooled her neighbors, who stopped over to see if she needed assistance as she and Frankie continued their argument while she threw his stuff out of her house.

  She stormed back into her house, slamming the door and throwing the locks into place before glaring out the window while she made a production out of shoving her curtains closed.

  Rebecca, the cop who would play the part of Cassie Flick in tonight’s final performance, snuck into the room, avoiding leaving a shadow against the window as she slouched into the loveseat. “Good job. The killer has to be convinced by now that you’re alone and vulnerable. We need to wait until the sun starts to set, and Detective Rogers will come to sneak you out the back way and take you to meet Frankie at the hotel.”

  Cassie sank into her recliner, just glad that part was over. It had been difficult trading insults with Frankie, but she knew it was worth it in the long run. If anything she said upset him, she could make sure he understood tonight when she reached the hotel that Big Frank had booked for them.

  “I’ve got some bad news, good news sort of thing,” Rebecca said.

  Cassie raised an eyebrow, not sure she wanted to know. “What?”

  “We checked that doctor’s alibi and Rogers texted me. He can’t prove his whereabouts for the first two murders, but he didn’t do this last one or deliver those flowers this morning, so we think he’s clear.”

  “But if
it’s not him, who’s doing this?” Cassie shook her head. “I honestly can’t think of anyone else who might want to hurt me.”

  “That’s the bad news part,” Rebecca agreed. “That nullifies our best lead. It couldn’t have been him, though. Dr. Morgan was called in on an emergency this morning around four. He was in surgery until after ten. Not only does that clear him from being the person who delivered the flowers, he was also busy during the time of death the coroner gave for this morning’s vic.”

  Cassie could hardly believe it. She’d been so sure Kenneth was the one after her. His girlfriend left right around the time all this started, so it made sense that he’d be the person who unraveled and started killing. She knew he was obsessive and jealous. However, there was a big leap from that to a murderer, she supposed.

  If only Frankie could use his phone better. She could send him a text to let him know. It was weird being without him now, considering he’d been stuck to her like glue since the first flowers were delivered. Then again, if the killer knew how to avoid cameras, he might also know how to do something to her phone so he could see who she called. Maybe she’d watched too much TV, but Cassie figured there had to be a way to do that.

  “I’d better leave my cell phone here tonight,” she said. “If he is somehow using GPS to track me, it has to look like I’m home.”

  Rebecca nodded. “Good idea. With Morgan cleared, we have no real idea who this person is or how much access he has to you personally. If it’s someone else you work with at the hospital or rehab center who would have access to your personal belongings without you worrying about them, they might have been able to put a tracker on it. You can buy software that does that, all they would need is access to your phone.”

  In some ways, that bothered Cassie. Rebecca was potentially putting her life in danger by staying here, all because Cassie had pissed off a killer. Not that she knew what she did to piss the person off, but still...

  “Are you going to be okay? I’m not sure I like the idea of you taking my place.”

  Rebecca laughed. “Trust me, nothing’s going to happen to me. As soon as we have you out of here, more officers will move in. I’ll be as safe as can be. Plus, if he does get to me, I’m a triple black belt in karate and I have a powerful gun.”

  Cassie gave a relieved smile. “You win. You’re definitely more equipped to handle this than I am. I have a nursing degree and was great in the neonatal unit before switching my focus and earning my physical therapist degree. I didn’t have a lot of time to learn the art of combat while working and going to school.”

  “We each have our strengths,” Rebecca said. “This is mine. We’ll get him, and then your life can go back to normal.”

  Back to normal. Whatever that was. Did she want her old normal anymore? Somehow, having her house to herself again and going back to her solitary existence didn’t hold any appeal.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Frankie laid in the king sized bed in the hotel room his father had booked, waiting for Cassie. Detective Rogers had called the room’s phone twenty minutes earlier to say they were making the transfer and all that Frankie could do now was wait.

  He had to hand it to his dad, though. Big Frank couldn’t stop talking about how much he liked Cassie, and judging from the room, his dad wanted to help fast forward a romance between her and Frankie.

  He didn’t even know how much the place must have cost, but the upscale hotel was owned by the richest man in town, and obviously they spared no expense when constructing it. The huge bed was as comfortable as laying on clouds, and for the first time in a while, the constant pains in Frankie’s body diminished while lying down. Fluffy pillows and a synthetic down comforter of pure white increased the comfort level. At the foot of the bed, a fifty-inch television sat atop a white oak dresser, loaded with hundreds of channels to keep even trapped people such as he and Cassie entertained.

  A work desk with a fancy office chair took up a corner, and a table with chairs accompanied an oak wardrobe on that half of the room, all with ample space for Frankie’s wheelchair to zoom around. The thing that he figured Cassie would appreciate the most was the bathroom. Not only was there an enormous walk-in shower, but an oversized jetted bathtub could help ease away her stress tonight.

  Not that there was any possible way for Frankie to get into the tub with her, as much as he might want to, but she could relax while he ordered room service for dinner. The room was fit for a queen, and Cassie was worth more to him than a queen would be. His dad had done good, but Frankie feared it might be too early to try and capitalize on anything.

  One brief kiss and being on the run from a killer wasn’t exactly a recipe for romance. Then again, what else did they have to do tonight but spend it together and get to know each other even more? A plain clothes officer was stationed in the room adjoining theirs in case there were any issues, but he had already assured Frankie of complete privacy unless Frankie banged on the wall to alert him. They would be safe tonight, once Cassie reached the room.

  Hopefully that would be soon. His anxiety wasn’t getting any better for waiting. This was the one time when it could all go wrong. She had Detective Rogers with her, but the killer was bold, staging the bodies in public places after killing them. He might not be afraid of a detective.

  Luckily, within a few more minutes the sound of a key being inserted into the electronic lock and it beeping to allow access penetrated the quiet room. Cassie stepped into the door, Detective Rogers close behind her.

  Without even acknowledging the detective, Frankie held his arms out. “Come here.”

  Cassie rushed to his side, bending down and allowing him to embrace her. She kissed his cheek, then stood upright, holding his hand. “You know I didn’t mean anything I said, right?”

  Smiling, Frankie was pleased to note she’d been as worried about hurting his feelings as much as he’d been about hurting hers. “Of course I know. Same here. I thought I might have overplayed it in the restaurant when I called you a bitch. Sorry about that. I didn’t mean it at all.”

  She ran her hand through his hair. “I thought you were going to blow it for a minute there. I could tell you got worried that I thought you were serious.”

  “And then the things you said in front of your house... Ouch!” He laughed, drawing her hand to his mouth and kissing the back of it. “I wasn’t completely sure if you were mad still, even though you said you were fine on the drive back to your house.”

  “If I even tricked you, it looks like my high school drama class was useful after all.”

  “Sorry to break this up.” Detective Rogers stepped further into the room. “I need to get back to Cassie’s house. Are you guys going to be okay? Do you need anything?”

  Frankie shook his head. “They have full room service, so we’ll order in dinner and stay out of sight until we hear from you.”

  Rogers nodded. “By morning, we will have him behind bars and you can go back to your lives.” She turned and headed for the doorway. “Lock this deadbolt behind me. Officer Hornsby is next door and will use the adjoining doors if needed. I’ll stop by and tell him to wait for your dinner. You should have it delivered there and let him bring it over. Don’t forget, Cassie, don’t even open the adjoining door unless Hornsby gives the code.”

  She walked out, and Cassie hurried to lock the main door as requested.

  “Code?” Frankie asked.

  “Peaches. If the person knocking doesn’t mention something about peaches, we don’t open the door.”

  “Guess that’s convenient when we order food,” Frankie said.

  Cassie pushed her hair behind her ears and walked toward the desk. “I’ll find the room service menu. Any idea what you want?”

  “Not soup.” He shook his head. “Half of what I got near my mouth this afternoon ended up on my shirt. These damn hands aren’t stable enough for that, especially not after tiring them out shooting this morning. Luckily, Dad helped me shower before he left.”


  Looking through the menu, Cassie came back to bed, climbing in beside him. “They have burgers and fries. That looks to be the cheapest thing and wouldn’t be too messy.”

  “Works for me.”

  She stretched to snag the phone off the bedside table, quickly calling and placing their order, including a six-pack of beer, and gave the room number next door.

  “I didn’t peg you as a beer drinker,” Frankie said, gratified when Cassie tossed the menu to the floor and crawled across the bed to snuggle against his side.

  “They’re bringing a pitcher of water too, but I figured we could both use a drink. It’s been a long few days.”

  Frankie wrapped his arm around her, pulling her toward his chest and lightly stroking her back. Even if he couldn’t feel much sensation in his fingertips when he touched her, that didn’t mean it wouldn’t comfort her. “It’s been tough, but seeing how strong you are makes me like you even more. I don’t want to push you, but you need to know how much you mean to me. I’m glad you’ve let me be with you through this.”

  “I’m glad too.” Cassie let out a long sigh, seeming to relax for the first time since he went home with her. “Did they tell you Dr. Morgan has an alibi?”

  While Cassie might have relaxed, her words made him tense back up. “They’re sure? He couldn’t have somehow tricked them again?”

  “They’re sure. He was in surgery on an emergency when that poor girl was killed this morning, and he was still working when the second batch of flowers was delivered. He could have paid someone to drop off the flowers, but he couldn’t kill that girl and be in surgery. It’s not him.”

  Frankie kissed the top of Cassie’s head, glad no one told him that before she was back in his arms. If it wasn’t Morgan, who could it be? So far, the killer hadn’t left any trace at the crime scenes to help the cops, and they had no leads with the flowers. Maybe it really was one of the strippers who wanted to kill Cassie. But why?

 

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