“Do you want to talk about it?” he finally asked.
I didn’t have to ask what he was referring to. Retelling the dream would only bring him pain, slice open old wounds, or possibly even inflame the rage I feared lurked inside him.
“Is that what all of this chit-chat has been about? You trying to warm me up so you can interrogate me?” I asked, careful to preface the question with a teasing grin.
“Here I thought we were getting to know each other, and you go and accuse me of having ulterior motives.”
“Don’t you?”
“Yeah, I do. My motive is to keep you safe.” He leaned forward. “Whatever you dreamed about this morning, it really shook you up. Tell me what you saw.”
“I saw the night you found your wife.”
His face paled. “You dreamed of Deb?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you see him?” He scooted closer and held onto the soft leather underneath us.
“No,” I said quietly, “Just you. Your house, the candles in the bedroom, the birthday card and banner, the . . . the picture of her.” I lowered my eyes because facing him tore me up—he was remembering that night right along with me. “I watched you find her.”
“You saw everything as if you were there?”
“I didn’t mean to see it.” I felt like a voyeur, but I witnessed the morbid instead of people undressing.
He shifted on the couch again, bringing his body even closer. “Look at me, Mackenzie.” I raised my eyes to his. “Don’t ever apologize for your gift.”
“It’s not a gift. It’s a curse.”
“Nothing about you is cursed. It can’t be easy, seeing what you do in your dreams.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“What happened? Why did he . . .? I mean, from what I saw, it didn’t seem random.”
“It wasn’t.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes for a moment. “He sent me on a wild goose chase that day. Deb had been missing for two days. When I got home . . . well you saw it. It was personal. Not random at all.”
“Do you have any idea why?”
He shook his head. “Sickos like him don’t need reasons. He used to send letters to my paper. After a while he addressed them to me. Challenges, taunts. I got too involved with the case.” His breath shuddered out. “No, that’s an understatement. I was obsessed, and Deb paid the price for it.”
“It’s not your fault, Aidan.”
He didn’t agree or deny it; instead he sidestepped the subject of guilt entirely. “These dreams of yours, they might be the key to finding him.”
“Yeah, about that . . . I have an idea.”
He raised a brow. “I’m not going to like this idea, am I?”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because you have that look about you.”
“What look?” I asked. “You don’t know me well enough to know all of my ‘looks’ yet.”
“I know trouble when I see it. What are you cooking up in that mind of yours?”
“Nothing. I thought we already went over this. My cooking skills are nada, remember?” I was stalling, and he knew it.
“Just spit it out.”
“Okay, but hear me out first.”
That made him laugh. “I’m all ears, Mackenzie.”
“Well . . . you believe he’s after me next, right?”
Aidan’s jaw tightened. “I pray that I’m wrong.”
“What if you aren’t? The guy got into my apartment. I think we can assume he’s got his eye on me.” I was surprised at how steady my voice was, considering we were talking about a serial killer breaking into my apartment. “We can use this to our advantage.”
He groaned. “You’re not beating around the bush—you’re bludgeoning it to death. Just give it to me already. What’s your idea?”
“I say we use me as bait.”
“I say you’ve lost your mind.”
“It could work . . . it could really work. We might even be able to get the sheriff’s department involved. Once they catch him, Watcher’s Point will be safe again. Six will have justice. Your wife will have justice.”
“I don’t care about justice!” He gripped my shoulders. “I care about you.”
We were so close that his breath, laced with a hint of maple syrup, teased my lips. My body flushed, and my heart pounded so loudly, I was certain he heard it.
Aidan’s gaze roamed over my face and then stopped on my mouth. “I don’t know whether to kiss you or lock you in a closet and guard the damn door.”
“I vote for kissing, unless you plan to join me in the closet.”
He pulled his anguished eyes back to mine. “You’re killing me,” he whispered, searching my face, and I wondered if he guessed at how often I thought about him—like twenty-four seven.
“Aidan—”
“You need to get this idiotic idea out of your head right now. Over my dead body will you be the bait for a serial killer.” He let go of my shoulders and inched back until we no longer touched.
Disappointment sliced me, sharp enough to cut through bone. In the back of my mind, I wondered if he’d done that on purpose—used the sexual tension between us to knock me off my axis.
“It’s not an idiotic idea.” I glared at him.
“What other term should I use, Mackenzie? You’re going to get yourself killed.”
“Not if we work together. He’s after me anyway. Why not use it?”
He raised his eyes toward the ceiling, as if pleading with a higher power for patience. “Do you have any clue what he’s capable of? Do you really want to risk your life?”
“Of course I know what he’s capable of!” I sprang up from the couch. “I’ve seen what he does to them. He sodomized Six.” Hysteria was taking over, and I could do nothing to stop it. “I don’t want to dream anymore. I need it to stop. Make it stop.”
Aidan’s embrace swallowed me. “I’m sorry,” he murmured into in my hair.
I wound my arms around his neck and buried my face in the curve of his shoulder. “No, I’m sorry,” I choked out. “I haven’t been sleeping much. We need to catch him.”
“I know. But using you as bait? Absolutely not. We’ll find another way.”
“How?”
“Finding this Elmo guy is a start. I asked around a couple days ago. Apparently, Elmo was seen at High Times on Halloween.” His arms fell to his sides, and he backed away. “One of the bartenders says she doesn’t know who he is, but I think she’s covering for him. I haven’t had the chance to check back yet.”
I nodded. “Okay, let’s go tonight.”
14. Temperature Rising
“I thought you were keeping the Batmobile hidden in your cave?”
Aidan laughed as he opened the passenger door for me. “You’re calling my car the Batmobile?”
I settled into the seat and grinned up at him. “Well, the official Batmobile is black, but I suppose silver will do.”
He closed the door, and his chuckle filtered in as he went around to the driver’s side. He slid in beside me. “We could take your car, but it’s parked in your driveway.”
I’d forgotten my car was sitting in my driveway. Last night, after discovering my apartment had been broken into, we’d ridden with the sheriff to the police station to give our statements. Afterward, he’d taken us straight to Aidan’s.
“Seriously though,” I said. “I got the impression you were keeping the Idaho plates under house-arrest.”
“I was trying to keep a low profile.”
“Now you’re not?”
He shrugged. “People know I’m in town. The Hangman sure as hell does.” Aidan rubbed the stubble on his jaw. “He wouldn’t have left Deb’s picture in your apartment otherwise.”
When we pulled into the parking lot of High Times, I could hardly believe how busy the place was. You’d think after two murders, not to mention all the media hype, that people would get a clue. But
Aidan had to drive around to the back in order to find a parking spot.
“Crazy,” he muttered, as if he’d read my mind.
“Sure is. If the Pour House is half as busy, then Mike really did us a favor by giving us the night off, especially on such short notice.”
Aidan activated the car alarm, and we headed toward the entrance. “He’s an understanding guy. I’m sure he wants Six’s killer caught as much as we do.”
Loud music blasted my ears the instant we stepped inside High Times. Aidan grabbed my hand and pulled me along behind him, weaving a path between the bodies crowding every nook and cranny of the bar. I gaped at the number of people. Not unusual for a Saturday night, I guess, but it seemed wrong to be out partying so soon after Six’s murder. No one seemed to care. They drank, they danced, they damn near fornicated in public. To be fair, I had to stop and recall how I’d been almost as detached before Six went missing.
Aidan let go of my hand once we reached the busy bar. Two bartenders kept rapid pace mixing and blending drinks. He wedged in next to a group of young guys as the four women next to them broke out in laughter and slammed another round of shots. Techno music blared from two speakers overhead, and Aidan had to yell to get the attention of the brunette working behind the counter. Her height nearly matched his. Deep cherry-glossed lips parted in a wide smile as soon as her eyes settled on him. Intuition told me she’d seen him before tonight.
“Gimme a minute here,” she shouted above the music. She leaned over the bar, green eyes alight with flirtatious intent. “I’ll meet you in the back. Same place as the other night.”
I already hated her.
Aidan gestured for me to follow him. The monotonous techno beat receded as we made our way to the back. He led me past one of the walk-in coolers and into a tiny office.
“You seem to know your way around,” I mumbled.
“Delilah was working the other night when I came in. She remembered a guy dressed as Elmo, but she said she didn’t know who was behind the costume. I think she knows more than she’s letting on.”
“You think you can get her to fess up?” I asked, taking a mental detour from the thought of him and that smiling Amazon woman. Her height was the only thing I could find to pick at. I was pathetic.
Aidan shrugged. “I hope so. I got the feeling Dee wanted to help me the other night, but something held her back, so we’ll see.”
Dee?
The woman in question sauntered in and shut the door. I plastered a smile on my face as she gave me a once-over. Her dismissal stung. Guess she didn’t see me as worthy competition.
“I’m glad you came back,” she said, moving toward Aidan like a lethal feline eying its prey. She stood close to him—too close.
“I was hoping we could talk again.” His mannerisms had undergone a transformation. He leaned toward her, his voice lowering to a sexy timbre, and when he smiled, he did it in a way that made my teeth hurt.
“I didn’t expect you to bring someone.” Her eyes darted in my direction.
“This is Mackenzie. Six was a friend of hers.”
Her expression relaxed. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” I couldn’t find fault with her sincerity. “Look,” she began, shifting her attention to Aidan. “I want to help you . . .” she wavered, her gaze jumping between Aidan and me. “It must have been awful to lose your wife like that, but I already told you everything I know.”
A lump formed in my throat. Aidan had told her about his past? I’d had to twist his arm to get him to open up to me. Even worse, I’d witnessed what he’d gone through firsthand in my dream.
His eyes met mine, and I couldn’t ignore the uncomfortable glint in them, as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. “Do you mind giving us a few minutes?” he asked me.
I swallowed hard. “Sure, I’ll wait outside.” I left the room, closed the door behind me, and then waited a few seconds to see if he’d change his mind. I knew he wouldn’t. He was too desperate to find his wife’s murderer, would do anything, or use anyone, if it suited his agenda.
A new song pulsed through the speakers as I re-entered the crowded bar. Several couples wrapped themselves around each other in what could loosely be called slow-dancing. I hadn’t taken two steps before a familiar, well-built body blocked my path. I lifted my head, and a pair of striking blue eyes stared back.
Brad grinned. “Hey, dance with me. I wanna talk to you.” He grabbed my hand and yanked, ignoring my protests as he dragged me to the dance floor. I started to step out of reach, but his words stopped me.
“I’m sorry about Six.” A second ago he’d been his happy-go-lucky self, but now his eyes were heavy with sadness. I was a little surprised. He hadn’t known Six, other than the few times they’d spoken at High Times or at the Pour House.
Or had he? It occurred to me that maybe he’d known her really well.
“I didn’t realize you guys were so close.” Another song started, the undertones of the beat slow and haunting.
Brad’s muscular arms suddenly encircled my waist, pulling me flush against him. “We weren’t close. Not like this, Mac.”
My body broke out in a cold sweat. “No!” I shoved him, but pushing against his chest was like trying to move concrete.
“Oh, come on. This song is awesome,” he said, and then his hot mouth was on mine, transporting me back in time to another situation . . . another man. To the nauseating stench of tequila, to the recollection of rough hands pushing me to the mattress and smothering my mouth as my dress bunched around my thighs. I tasted tequila now and gagged as the memories fisted my throat. My plea for him to stop came out in a strangled whisper.
Frantic, I pounded against his chest until his hold loosened, and I barely registered his incredulous expression as I stumbled back a few steps. Stumbled into something solid. I whirled around and came face to face with Aidan. His jaw hardened, on the verge of cracking, and his attention fell on Brad, eyes alight with dangerous fury.
He had Brad down on the floor before I could blink.
The music cut off mid-lyric, Delilah screamed at them to stop, and two men pulled Aidan off Brad. I stood in a fog, seeing but not quite believing what had just happened.
“Break it up!” one of the men ordered. It was Judd. The other man seemed familiar, and it took me a moment to place him; I’d seen him at the Pour House playing video poker.
Aidan shook free, and the video poker guy helped Brad to his feet.
“I want him arrested for assault!” Brad yelled as he jabbed a finger in Aidan’s direction. He used his other hand to stop the blood pouring from his nose; someone had given him a handful of napkins.
Aidan took a step forward. “Better assault than murder. Why don’t you tell the deputy about your fury red costume on Halloween?”
Brad’s eyes widened. “What does that have to do with you attacking me?” He turned to Judd, who was observing the scene with crossed arms and an air of nonchalance. “Mac and I were dancing, and this idiot came flying in, throwing his fists around.” He smirked at Aidan and added, “Clearly he’s jealous.”
Aidan’s shoulders tensed, and I grabbed his hand before he could launch himself at Brad again. “That’s not what happened,” I said. A shudder went through me.
“So let me get this straight,” Judd began, his eyes resting on Aidan. “Are you saying Brad was Elmo? How did you come across this information?”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s true. Ask him.”
“He didn’t kill anyone.” Delilah spoke up. “Brad was with me, okay? He didn’t do it.”
Judd let out a long sigh and then radioed in for backup. Once he was finished, he gestured toward Brad, Delilah and me. “You’re all coming down to the station for questioning.” He pulled a set of handcuffs from his belt and looked at Aidan. “And I’m placing you under arrest for assault.”
“This is bullshit!” Aidan’s hand slipped from mine when Judd grabbed him. “You should be arresting him,” he said, nodding toward Brad as the cuffs
fastened around his wrists.
Judd ignored his rant and read him his rights. “Come on, people, move it.”
I opened my mouth to back Aidan up, to tell Judd how Brad attacked me, but the words wouldn’t come. My eyes clashed with Aidan’s as Judd herded the four of us through the crowd of gawking bystanders.
Great. Just what I wanted—another night spent at the police station.
* * *
Twiddling my thumbs for three hours hadn’t erased the memory of Brad’s assault or Aidan’s familiarity with Delilah. After being questioned, I’d had plenty of time to stew over the events of the evening as I waited for him to be released.
Now, as we headed north on HWY 101, a deafening silence stole over us. I watched the black night fly by and tried to keep the gate to my past firmly shut. I wanted to scream at Brad for opening it after all these months. “Where are we going?” I finally asked.
“For a drive.” Something was clearly eating at him.
I kept my gaze glued to the passenger window and remained silent. My own emotions simmered just under the surface. The night had been a disaster. Even discovering the identity of Elmo had been a let-down. Though Brad had gone to Six’s apartment the night she disappeared, the police didn’t have enough to hold him; Delilah had provided him with a tight alibi.
Aidan pulled the car off the highway and killed the engine. The neon glow from the stereo cast the interior in a bluish tint. Outside, the lighthouse beam cut through the dark every few seconds, and the windshield became a canvas for the splattering of raindrops.
“What are we doing here?” My heart thundered in my ears and awareness crackled in the darkness. I stole a look at him from the corner of my eye.
“Thinking.” His eyes strayed to the rearview mirror.
“About what?”
Epiphany (Legacy of Payne) Page 11