by Mary Burton
He sensed her desire and pulled out his finger. “Not yet.”
She reached for his erection and slid her fingers around it. Slowly she moved her hands up and down the shaft as he pressed it into her hand. He leaned down for a kiss and cupped the back of her head, bringing her face up to his.
When he broke away, they were both breathless. She pulled her fingers down over his scarred back. He didn’t flinch this time.
She opened her legs, and he pressed the tip of his erection into her folds. He pushed in a fraction and pulled back. He pressed in again, pulled back. The exquisite torture made her dizzy with wanting. His hands slid down her belly to her engorged flesh and touched the sensitive spot that cried out for release.
He captured her hand in his, kissed the slick fingertips, and then roughly pushed inside her. She arched back, accepting all of him. A moan escaped her lips as he moved back and forth inside her and suckled her fingers. He released her hand and moved back and forth. She matched his rhythm, lifting her hips to all of his thrusts.
The tension built inside her, and she could feel he was coming. She cupped her breast and moaned. A muscle in his neck flexed like a tight cord, and his thrusts came faster with greater urgency.
When the wave washed toward her, she embraced it and gave herself over to the sensations that tore through her body. He groaned, and with one last thrust, his body tensed. For one blinding moment the two were bound by the most overwhelming sensation.
He collapsed on top of her and dropped his face in the crook of her neck. Her heart hammered, her muscles reduced to jelly. Finally she opened her eyes and focused on the ceiling.
“What was that?” she breathed.
He rolled off her, and they lay side by side, their naked bodies still touching. “I thought it was fairly obvious.”
That coaxed a smile. “My way of saying it was nice.”
“Nice?”
“Great.”
She couldn’t bring herself to believe it wasn’t anything more than great sex. She’d felt a connection. And it was that link that worried her. She didn’t want to have feelings for a guy, knowing whatever they shared was likely fleeting.
“I can hear your wheels turning,” he said, his eyes still closed.
“It’s what I do. I think.”
“You didn’t seem to be thinking a minute ago.”
“No, I certainly wasn’t.”
He rose up on his elbow and rested his head on his hand. He traced his other hand over her bandage and over her breast. This time he touched her with a familiarity that was as gentle as it was unnerving. “I might need a few minutes, but I’m always ready not to think again.”
“That sounds very appealing.”
His phone buzzed. He rose and fished it from his coat pocket. He glanced at the display and shoved out a sigh. “I need to take this.”
“Of course.”
He grabbed her arm and kissed her. “We’re going to do this again.”
She kissed him on the lips. She didn’t make promises.
INTERVIEW FILE #27
THE OTHER LOST GIRL
Her name was Maria Thomas, the oldest daughter of an immigrant family who lived fifty miles north of Charlottesville. There’d been no money in Maria’s family for college, so she took a job near the university working at an all-night convenience store, hoping one day she would attend the school.
Her parents reported her missing immediately, but police were hesitant to get involved because Maria liked to stay out late with her friends and often missed her curfew. By the next evening when cops started asking questions, Maria was already seventy miles east, dead and buried in a shallow grave near Richmond. It would take DNA to identify her remains.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Saturday, March 24, 2018; 4:00 p.m.
Kaitlin didn’t want Adler to leave, but as she stood with him at her front door, she understood he had to see this investigation through. He pulled her toward him and kissed her.
“Be careful,” he said.
“Always.”
He shook his head. “I mean it, Kaitlin. Whoever stabbed you is still out there, and he’s made it clear he’s coming back for you.”
“I won’t take any unnecessary risks.”
“Take absolutely no risks until I can catch this guy.”
She shrugged. “I’ll be fine.”
“If you see anyone who looks suspicious, call me.”
“I will.”
“See you later for our date with Marcus.”
“Yes.” She rode the elevator down with him and walked him to the front door. He glanced back, a smile flickered, but the investigation’s weight was already pulling him away. She tossed him a final wave and disappeared back into the building. Up the elevator, she pushed through the front door of her apartment. While a strong cup of coffee brewed, she checked the time for Jennifer’s memorial service.
The viewing was from three to five. If she hurried, she could make the tail end of it. Ashley would be there and wouldn’t be happy to see Kaitlin, but she had to pay her respects.
She slid her phone on the charger as she showered and then changed the bandage on her side. She found a slim black dress in her closet and slid it on. She’d lost weight since the stabbing, and the dress hung loosely around her midsection. She dug in the bottom of her closet for her lone pair of heeled ankle boots. She slid on her leather jacket and quickly dabbed on rouge, mascara, and lipstick.
Out the lobby door, she paused, making sure there was no one lurking in the parking lot. She hurried to her car.
The drive west took almost twenty minutes, and when she pulled into the funeral home, a man greeted her with a smile as bland as his worn suit.
“I’m here to pay respects to Jennifer Ralston,” she said.
“Second door on the right.”
Tensing, she moved down the carpeted hallway toward the open door. As she grew closer she tugged her phone from her pocket and turned on the recorder. Holding it in her hand, she moved toward the murmur of soft voices. Pausing, she straightened her shoulders and stepped into the room.
Two older women looked at her, frowning. No doubt they couldn’t place her and wondered why she was there. Kaitlin ignored them as she scanned the room for Ashley.
She found Jennifer’s sister by a casket covered in a large arrangement of red roses. Ashley saw her, too, and her smile evaporated. She whispered something to the women around her and moved toward Kaitlin.
“What’re you doing here?” Ashley said.
“Paying my respects.”
Ashley shook her head. “Now you have. So please leave.”
“I’m sorry,” Kaitlin said. She wanted to tell her Gina had been found, but now wasn’t the time or place. “She didn’t deserve this.”
“No, she didn’t.”
Kaitlin left the room. The heavy weight of guilt pressed on her. She looked up and saw Steven Marcus leaving. What was he doing here? Had he come to pay his respects or gather more details for his story?
Her phone pinged with a text from Adler.
Are you resting?
It wasn’t like her to feel accountable to anyone, but she also didn’t want to be stupid. Adler was watching her back for now, and she was glad.
She texted back. Attending Jennifer’s viewing. Steven Marcus is here. Guess our meeting got moved up. Afterward, I’ll go straight home. ☺
She dropped her phone in her pocket as Marcus approached her.
“Kaitlin Roe,” Marcus said, smiling. “I thought you might be here.” He was dressed in khakis, a white shirt, and a blue sports jacket.
“I shouldn’t be surprised to see you here.”
“I feel like I knew Jennifer, Erika, and you. I covered the story for so long. I had to stop by and pay my respects.”
“Did her sister appreciate your being here?”
He shook his head with a wry smile. “She wasn’t happy.”
“Me, too. But I can’t blame her.”
&n
bsp; “Neither can I,” he said. “It’s a hell of a thing to lose someone you love.”
“Yeah.”
He nodded toward the exit. “Why don’t we get that coffee now?”
“Okay.” She followed him out of the building. “I can follow you.”
“Sure, if you want, or you can let me drive. You look pretty exhausted.”
“Saying I look rough?” she said with a grin.
He laughed. “Not at all. Just saying you look tired.”
For a moment the fatigue slid through her body, reminding her that she’d been pushing her limits. “It’s been a long week.”
“How about I drive us to a coffee shop, and then I’ll bring you back here?” He grinned, leaning in. “I couldn’t forgive myself if something happened to you.”
“Okay, thank you.” Kaitlin was glad to have the company as they crossed the lot to his blue four door. He clicked open the locks, and she slid into the front passenger seat and twisted toward him. “How about I ask you a few questions first?”
He grinned as he started the engine. “You can ask. But no promises.”
She laughed. “Fair enough.”
“The café is less than a mile from here. I’ll have you back in an hour. If you have a sweet tooth, you’ll love this café. The best. I write there when I’m on deadline.”
She grabbed ahold of the buckle, twisted back, and clicked it in place. She looked over at Marcus as he fumbled with something under his seat. “Tell me more about your visit with Randy.”
His face was grim, determined. “He said he hoped ‘whoever hates her as much as me finishes the job.’”
She looked into his blackened eyes, and alarm bells sounded in her head. Despite his expression, his tone carried notes of glee and purpose, as if this was his job to finish.
She scrambled for her seat belt and then to open the door. She was seconds away from being out of this car. The belt clicked open, and she was free as she turned back toward the door and clawed at the handle.
Before she could open the door, she felt the sting of a needle go into her arm. She tried to swat it away, but Marcus was already pulling away an empty syringe.
“What the hell?” She kept working at the door handle but found her motor skills growing clumsier. She looked out the window for anyone who could help her, but as her head spun faster and faster the scream died in her throat. “You’re the one. You killed them.”
His expression was void of emotion. “Just relax into it. Don’t fight it.”
“Why?”
“Shh. We’ll have plenty of time to talk about that later.”
She screamed, but the sound was strangled and muted by an overwhelming wave of fatigue. Her eyes drooped shut, and she was able to pry them back open with a force of will. But they were so heavy. And she was so tired. Her vision blurred. And this time when her lids fell shut, she couldn’t summon the strength to open them again.
She thought about Adler. Hoping he’d find her even as a darker fear told her she’d never see him again.
“Now, we can spend some real quality time together, Kaitlin,” Marcus said. “And this time I won’t be in such a rush. We have all the time in the world.”
“Adler, you may now call me a genius.” Logan limped forward, leaning heavily on a cane, and dumped a file on his desk.
Adler studied Logan’s triumphant grin. “What am I looking at?”
“I won’t bore you with the hoops I jumped through to get this information. And I admit, I did play the pity card.”
“You’ve got me on pins and needles.”
Logan lowered into a seat. “I dug into Maria Thomas’s life.”
“The girl who went missing about the time Hayward left college.”
“That’s correct.”
“She worked near Hayward’s college in a convenience store, and on the night she vanished she was working alone and in charge of closing the store. Normally, the company required two employees for the night shift, but her coworker left early saying she was sick. She told police Maria insisted she leave and that she would be fine.”
Some killers stalk their victims, but others act when the opportunity presents itself. A woman alone at night was a tempting target.
Adler sat back in his chair, remembering the skull in the medical examiner’s office and the ribs nicked by a knife. “Hayward was still around about that time.”
“He was. Police reviewed the store’s security footage, but he never showed up on it.”
“Okay.”
“So I asked the cop on the case to send me the surveillance footage.”
“And?”
“It captured the partial plate on a Toyota Highlander that matched several vehicles. One of those vehicles was registered to Derek Blackstone.”
“He was in college up in the northeast.”
“A day after Maria vanished, he reported his car stolen. It was never found.”
“A car that could have been Derek’s was placed at the scene, but he was not?”
“Correct. He had a solid alibi for that night. Several witnesses placed him five hundred miles away.”
“Was there a record of Hayward visiting Derek?”
“Hayward was never a suspect in the case, so no one checked.”
“What about Crowley?”
“That I don’t know. But we know Hayward, Blackstone, and Crowley stick together. Maybe now that Hayward’s back in the crosshairs, he’ll talk.”
Adler tapped his index finger on his desk. He would see to it that Hayward’s life in prison was miserable if he didn’t talk. “Great work, Logan. Great work.”
“Do you think Blackstone or Crowley killed Jennifer and Erika?”
“Maybe both might have been worried about loose ends when Kaitlin started asking questions about Gina.”
“And then Hayward offers up Gina when he’s facing the death penalty,” Logan said.
It was a plausible theory, but all the pieces didn’t fit. “Why draw the hearts at the murder scenes? Those hearts link directly back to the search for Gina Mason,” Adler said.
“Maybe they thought they were being clever. Thought they’d throw the cops off their trail.”
“Blackstone certainly calculates every move. The body’s positioning suggests the killer didn’t just want to silence Jennifer and Erika, he wanted to humiliate them. He was angry with them,” Adler said.
“There were a lot of people who loved Gina,” Logan said.
“And one of those loving people hated Erika, Jennifer, and Kaitlin enough to kill two of the three.” And whoever carried this grudge was still out there and, he feared, ready to make another attempt on Kaitlin’s life. He dialed her number. It rang five times and went to voicemail. He listened to her voice, unease growing in his gut. When the tone beeped, his voice was terse when he said, “Kaitlin, call me.”
“You’re worried about her.”
“Someone tried to kill her. And we still don’t know who the hell that someone is.” He reread his last text from her. “She’s having coffee with Steven Marcus now.”
“The reporter?”
“The one that covered the Gina Mason murder extensively. They’ll have a lot to talk about now that Gina’s been found.” He accessed his computer and searched Steven Marcus in the DMV records. Marcus’s name and picture popped up. “There are no priors, but there’s a ticket for a broken taillight on Tuesday. The night Erika’s body was found in the city.”
“Where was the ticket issued?”
“On the expressway headed into Richmond.” Adler checked the time. “I need to try and catch the tail end of Ms. Ralston’s viewing.”
“Think the killer will show up?”
“I can only hope.” He clapped Logan on the shoulder. “Solid work.”
“Thanks.”
“Hi, I’m Gina Mason.”
The familiar voice echoed over a loudspeaker as a bright light glared in Kaitlin’s eyes. Her brain was mired in a drugged haze that made it hard f
or her to focus. Drawing in a breath, she blinked until her vision finally cleared. She pushed herself up into a sitting position and pressed her back against a hard surface. Where the hell was she?
“Hi, I’m Gina Mason.”
The room was windowless, and the concrete walls were papered in hundreds of pictures of Gina Mason. As she pushed herself to her feet, her heart beat faster. She fought a wave of nausea. She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth and took several deep breaths until her stomach settled.
“Hi, I’m Gina Mason.”
Something deep inside her prodded her and told her she’d been a damn fool and was now going to die because of her own stupidity. She’d recognized fear because she’d faced it so often and for many years allowed it to run her life. But this time, she pushed it away and refused to listen to the horrible things it wanted to whisper.
She had to find a way to reach Marcus. They’d both wanted the same thing—to find Gina—for fourteen years.
Drawing in a breath she said, “Stop playing the games, Marcus. You’ve been wanting to face me for a long time, so show yourself so we can talk.” Her voice was hoarse and her throat dry. “We have more in common than you realize.”
Silence.
She pushed back a rising sense of panic. “We have a lot to talk about. I have information about Gina. I know who killed her.”
“Hi, I’m Gina Mason.”
Adler found Quinn, and as the two drove across town to Ashley’s viewing, he briefed her on what Logan had told him. At the funeral home, he spotted Kaitlin’s SUV. He crossed to the vehicle and put his hand on the hood. It was cold.
“She said she’s with Marcus,” Quinn said.
Adler called Kaitlin again. It went to voicemail. “This is not good.”
They strode inside and followed the directional signs to the Ralston room. There were still a handful of people gathered around the closed casket. Ashley was dressed in black and dabbing a tissue to her red-rimmed eyes.
Ashley spotted Adler and, breaking away from the group, moved toward them. “Detectives.”