“It doesn’t mean anything. Lots of women my age haven’t met their soul mate.”
“But most women your age have felt that kind of love. I call it inner passion, which is far different from sexual passion. Feeling that doesn’t guarantee that the person is your soul mate. It does prove that you can feel the need for love. That you’ve opened yourself up, laid yourself bare, just to take the chance.”
She laid her head against the back of the couch. “I’ve never laid myself bare for anyone.” She thought of when she’d touched Max’s face while he slept. When they’d nearly made love and wisely backed off. Because she’d been very close to laying herself bare, she realized.
“What are you thinking, Olivia?”
“I…I think I almost felt that once. We both backed off.”
“Why?”
“Because it was Max. He was the boy who led me from the truck.”
“Oh.” That one word was loaded.
“I’m afraid that if I let go—lay myself bare—with him, that I’ll become what he sees me as—that little girl who needs his protection.” She’d done that with Terry for far less compelling reasons.
“The way he watched over you while you were under…yes, I can see that.” He seemed to think it over. “Your past connection and the investigation makes your relationship complicated, I admit that. But love is never simple. And it’s not even about whether you and Max could make a real go of it. It’s about laying yourself bare and reaching for it.”
It was also about Max being able to look at her as more than someone to protect. That he’d married an alcoholic said a lot about him..
She set her feet on the floor and scooted to the edge of the couch. “I’ll think about what you said.”
He took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’ll tell Max he can come in. He’s been glancing inside, making sure you’re okay.”
“I can believe that.”
“And you don’t like it.” He let out a soft sigh as he got to his feet. “I do hope you’ll contact me.” He opened the door to the balcony. “We’re finished.”
Max thanked him and escorted him to the door. His low, soft voice washed over her raw nerve endings. “We can call you a cab. And you’re welcome to stay here until your flight leaves.”
“I think I’ll wander around the area, take in the sights. Goodbye, Max. Olivia.”
Max said, “I’ve got to go to the station and pick up some files. We’ll only be a few minutes. Do you want to bring Stasia or leave her here?”
Olivia heard Judy’s voice at the open doorway. “Olivia, you sure have a lot of men in your apartment lately. Hey, Detective Max Callahan.”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “Merry Christmas.” She gave Judy a hug.
“Merry Christmas. I’ve got to finish making your present. I’ll bring it up tonight.”
Olivia said to Max, “Why don’t I stay here with Judy? I want to try the painting again. I keep thinking that I can find some way to help.”
“Okay. I won’t be long. Judy, don’t leave her alone.”
“Yes, sir!”
Olivia was surprised when Max kissed her forehead. It was tender and proprietary at the same time. “I’ll be back soon.”
Judy giggled. “He kissed you.”
Olivia listened to his footsteps retreating down the hallway, her mouth curving in a smile. Yes, he had. “Let’s mix the same colors we did last time.”
Judy went to work on the paints while Olivia changed into a painting outfit. When she returned to the living room, she asked, “Judy, do you remember when I asked who owned the apartment across the way?”
Judy dropped one of the jars. “I can’t talk about that.”
Olivia walked closer. “You’re my friend, aren’t you?”
“Yes, you say ‘thank you’.”
“Right. Double bonus points.”
“He’s my friend, too. He gives me money to keep his secret.”
Olivia felt a chill. He? “Who is it? Please tell me.”
“Terry. He bought it before he moved out of your place. He said he wanted to take care of you, but you wouldn’t let him. So he was keeping an eye on you without you knowing. For your own good. He said you’d be mad if you found out. Are you mad? I don’t like when people get mad at me.”
All of the words after ‘Terry’ floated aimlessly past Olivia. Terry had been in that apartment all this time. Watching her. She shivered. “Judy, you should have told me.”
“But it was for your own good, that’s what he said.”
Olivia heard the edge in her voice when she said, “Spying on someone is never good. Keeping secrets from friends isn’t good either.”
“You’re mad, I knew it. And now you won’t be my friend anymore!”
Olivia released a breath filled with tension. “It’s all right. Terry just took advantage of your naiveté, that’s all.”
But Judy had run out crying.
Olivia stalked across the hallway and pounded on Terry’s door.
Max and Sam sat at the conference table sorting through the faxes they’d received from other counties.
Max tossed another reject on the table but was looking at Sam. “You all right?”
“I’m fine. Forget what I said this morning. I’ve been up all night. Annie and I had a spat, that’s all.”
“You look like hell.”
Sam narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, well I didn’t get laid last night.”
“Neither did I. You want to tell me what’s going on?”
“I want to get through these case files. The leap year/Christmas theory really narrowed it down. Here’s another one.” Sam read from the fax. “1996, seven-year-old girl was taken from a department store five days before Christmas. No ransom, no suspects. This one’s from St. Petersburg. She has brown hair, brown eyes, just like the rest. That’s three so far, plus Phaedra and Olivia. Son of a bitch, I think we have a serial killer here. Your father.” Sam’s skepticism was clear.
“Yes, my father.”
Max flipped through four more cases before finding another brown haired, brown-eyed girl of eight who had disappeared five days before Christmas. “2000, Orlando.”
A chill was seeping through his body. The girls had eventually been found, in a river or other body of water. All of them drowned, all with a cut across their chests. The coroner’s reports confirmed the water in their lungs wasn’t consistent with the body of water in which they’d been found. It had been ordinary tap water or drinking water. He was drowning Rose, over and over again.
He pushed out of his chair, feeling sick to his stomach. His mind made the connection he hadn’t been ready to deal with on the trip back from Odette’s. Olivia had been one day away from dying. The image of his father drowning her came to mind as much as he didn’t want to see it. Olivia’s young, dirty face being shoved under the water—
He wanted to touch her right then, to hold her, feel that she was alive.
“I’ve got to get back to Olivia. Contact the case officers and see if they can shed any more light on these cases. See if they have any idea where the girls were held.”
Max went to his desk, feeling removed from all the activity and phone calls and other ongoing cases. When he grabbed up his folder, he spotted an envelope on his desk. There wasn’t any writing on it, and it was sealed. He tore it open and pulled out a piece of paper that read, “All bad girls must be punished.” He scanned the area as heat flooded his face. Everyone seemed absorbed in his or her own worlds, as usual.
“Who left this here? Did anyone see who left this?” He held the envelope by the corner.
People looked at him as though he might explode before their eyes. They shook their heads carefully.
He walked around the room to make sure everyone heard. “Did you see who left this here? How about you? Someone had to see who left this on my desk. We’re a bunch of detectives, for Pete’s sake! Someone walked in here and left this. No one saw him?”
John Holland said,
“No, but it sounds like the plot twist in my current book. The enemy, right in your own camp.”
Nick Mathers asked, “Max, are you all right?”
“No, I’m not all right.”
Max slid the note and envelope into an evidence bag and walked to the conference room. How long had the note been on his desk? Since early that morning, maybe even last night. “Sam, run this through Evidence and see if any prints come up. Call me as soon as it’s processed.”
Sam read the note. “What is this?”
“It’s a note that someone put on my desk.”
“What does it mean?”
“It means Bobby Callahan’s playing with me.”
Sam’s skepticism was clear. “Bobby. Your father.”
“Yes, my father, who’s probably a cop since no one noticed any strangers hanging around.” He’d been here, working with Max for months, maybe years. No one would believe Max. An enemy in his own camp.
He had to get back to Olivia.
CHAPTER 23
“Where’s Judy?” Max asked as soon as he returned to Olivia’s apartment. He locked the door behind him.
She was sitting at her easel listening to the sexy girl band, Heart. She obviously had a thing for 80’s rock and roll. “Tell me what you found out first.”
“The leap year revelation was a big help. We narrowed down the cases to those girls taken just before Christmas on a leap year.”
“And?”
“He’s taken a girl every leap year since my mother died.”
“Oh, God. What happened to them?” When he hesitated, she said, “Max, I can handle whatever it is.”
“That’s right, you’re strong, I am woman hear me roar, and all that.”
“And leave it to you to want to protect me. You’re a hero, Max. You always will be, no matter how you try to fight it. It’s in your nature. I think you’ll be happier once you accept that. You won’t always save the day.” She looked in his direction, wishing she weren’t so drawn to him. “And you won’t always get the girl.”
He was quiet for a moment. “Maybe I’ll admit that when you admit that you’re afraid sometimes. You have to admit it before you can overcome it.”
“Tell me,” she said, coming to her feet to face him. “What does he do to them?”
“He drowns them.”
“The tub. He was going to—”
He put his finger over her mouth. The Wilson sisters sang “Crazy for You.”
“Max, you did save my life,” she whispered against his finger.
She heard his emotion when he said, “He was going to kill you.” His hands went to her shoulders and squeezed them. “He was going to…drown you.”
His mouth took hers in a rush. She didn’t want to think about drowning, but she was drowning in Max right then. He took a halting breath and slid his hands around her waist. He tried to capture her mouth again, but she was too quick for him. She nuzzled his ear and his neck, across his throat and to the other side. He took hold of her face and kissed her then. Not just a kiss, a connection of mouths that spoke of hunger and a desperate need to release the tension inside them.
She unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it apart. His hands skimmed her breasts, down her sides, her hips. She slid her hands beneath his shirt and over the hard planes of his chest and stomach. He was hard beneath her, pushing against her.
She felt that hunger again, but something more—the need to lay herself bare. Not physically but emotionally. She needed this, needed him. Admitting that freed something inside her.
“My bedroom,” she said, taking his hand and leading the way.
A minute later, he laid her on the bed and ran his hands over her body. He peeled away her clothes and kissed across her skin, running his hands over her at the same time. She captured one of his hands and stuck his finger in her mouth. When she sucked it in and lathed it with her tongue, he groaned.
His fingers moved across the slick surfaces of her femininity. She shuddered, biting down on his finger, letting pleasure roll across her. She sat up, tore off his shirt, and then unbuttoned his pants and pushed them down. She touched him, holding him firmly, stroking up and down. He kissed her hard, and she felt his body tense. He wrapped her in his arms and rolled her on top of him. She eased onto him, taking him in. He had his hands on her hips, his fingers possessively tight against her skin.
She closed her eyes and rocked her head back. A soft, throaty sound spiraled up her throat and escaped her slack mouth. He skimmed one hand over her breasts and stomach and farther down. The gentle pressure he applied sent a sensual warmth through her body. They moved together through another song, and then he pulled her down and rolled her so that she was beneath him.
She held on tight and tried to tell herself this was only about the need to connect with another human being. But it was more than that. It was about connecting with Max Callahan. He was strong and tender and everything she’d ever wanted in a man. He was all mixed up inside her, and she let herself get lost in their lovemaking. Her fingers slid down his back and over the curve of his buttocks. The way his muscles moved beneath his skin, the way he smelled, everything about him captivated her. She felt pulled toward that blissful state, and she contracted her inner muscles to take him with her. His answering groan told her she’d hit her mark. He entwined one of her hands with his, squeezed it hard, and kissed her. She felt herself spiral up, up, up, breathless, lost in feeling him inside her.
He shuddered, and his whole body tensed. They remained there, catching their breath. After a few minutes, he gently bit her lower lip and rolled her to her side. He took one of her fingers and sucked it into his mouth. She’d never realized just how good it felt. No one had returned the favor. He kissed the tip of her damp finger, and when she thought he would set her hand down, he surprised her again. He took both her hands and put them on his face.
Her throat tightened, and she smiled. How did he know how much she wanted to do this? She traced the lines and grooves of his face to her heart’s content, even brushing the tips of his eyelashes.
She continued her journey, mapping his face in her mind. Then she started using her mouth to explore him, brushing her lips across his feathery eyelashes, his eyelids, down the bridge of his nose. Mm, this was an even better way to “see” him. Her tongue dipped into the indent in his chin.
He leaned up and kissed her hard. “What do you see?”
“You.”
In that word, she’d revealed too much of the emotion flowing through her. What was she doing? Anxiety curled through her, made her move away and push her hand through her damp hair. “We shouldn’t have done this. Making love while time slips away…”
“There’s nothing else we could be doing, Olivia.” He touched her face. “Is that what this was? Making love?”
She quickly shook her head. “This was releasing tension.”
“Now you’re lying.”
She rushed on. “All right, it was more. It was…it’s natural that we’d be drawn together like this. You’re the hero, and I will be forever engrained in your mind as the victim. You saved my life.”
“Natural,” he repeated. “If that’s what you want to believe, Livvy.” He extricated himself and walked to the bathroom.
Livvy. God, why did he call her that? It made her want to grab his arm and drag him back. To hold him tight against her and feel his heat.
To never let go.
She searched for her clothes and got dressed. She heard water running in the bathroom, and then he walked out. His phone went off in the direction of the dresser.
“Maybe that’s Sam.” God willing. “Callahan here. Yes, sir.” After a moment, he said, “Damn, just what I need. Lieutenant Huntington wants to see me—now. I want you to come with me.”
“I’ll be all right here for a short while. I won’t open the door to anyone.”
“Livvy…”
“He’s not going to come back, even you said that. He wants to get me when I’m out. B
elieve me, I’m not going out by myself. Stasia and I will be fine until you return. I want to get back to my painting. I need to help find her, Max. I need to help. I keep thinking something has to click.”
He relented with a sigh. “Don’t open the door to anyone.” He moved closer, and she thought—okay, hoped—he’d kiss her forehead again. He took a step past her. “I’ll be right back.”
“Max…” She let the word die on her lips, hearing a trace of agony in it.
“Let’s leave what happened as just that—a recharge. Makes it easier.” Then why didn’t his voice agree with his words?
She followed him to the living room, fighting the urge to take back her words. He was wrong; it wasn’t easier to leave it the way it was.
“Lock your door.”
And then he was gone. She locked the door and leaned against it, closing her eyes. “I’m an idiot.”
She’d also forgotten to tell him that Terry owned the apartment across the way. Since he hadn’t answered her knock, she hoped that meant he wasn’t there. Terry was the least of her problems. She settled in front of a blank canvas. Finding Phaedra was all that mattered now.
Max tried to push the images of their lovemaking out of his mind as he drove through Palomera. Just when he thought he’d managed it, he could see his hand sliding down her stomach or smell the heat of her skin. He’d seen the scar when he’d taken off her shirt, but he hadn’t wanted to spoil the mood by getting drawn into what that scar represented.
His father. His own father had put that mark on her while Max sat in the cab of the truck obeying a madman. Her words echoed in his mind: Oh, God, you blame yourself for their deaths, don’t you?
He did take responsibility for Diana’s and Ashley’s deaths, for Olivia’s suffering, and yes, even for not making sure it was his father’s body in that truck.
It all came with the territory.
She said he’d always want to be a hero. That hunger inside him that vowed to find Phaedra in time was the same drive that had led him to push Saul Berney too far. He thought he’d killed it, but he hadn’t. She was right. He would always be driven to be a hero and protector. That’s why he’d become a cop. The thought of facing his nemesis made his stomach churn. Bobby Callahan was his kryptonite. Every time he thought of Bobby, he became that powerless kid who’d stopped at his father’s command. Coward! Maybe that’s why his father still haunted him. Just as some deep part of Max had known who Olivia was, maybe it knew that Bobby was close by, too.
Blindsight [Now You See Me] (Romantic Suspense) Page 28