“Wait…you didn’t turn off the alarm?”
She blinked. “I know I set it when I left. I just didn’t even think.”
He stood and went to it. She stood and followed, Charlie right behind her.
“Damn,” he muttered. “The green light is blinking.”
“But…I know I did. I remember doing it this morning.”
He nodded. “When you came in the house, tell me what you saw, what you smelled.”
“Nothing. Well, it was off somehow. Like something wasn’t right. I think Charlie sensed it too.”
“Anything else? Any smells, anything out of place?”
“No. Well, in the bathroom there was a scent, but I am not sure what it was. I thought it might be your aftershave.”
“Pfft, I don’t wear aftershave. I’m all man, baby.”
She rolled her eyes. “Then, the towels.”
“Let me check the rest of the house, okay?”
She didn’t like it, but she sensed something else behind the request. “What?”
“I want to make sure there wasn’t anything else around here, if that is okay with you. Go on.”
She nodded. He gave her a kiss on the forehead, and she headed for the living room and waited with Charlie.
* * * *
Dante didn’t move anything as he went through her belongings until he found the picture. He didn’t know where it was taken, some restaurant and several years earlier. His sister and Madison had been seated next to each other, laughing. Or at least, he assumed Madison had been laughing. Her face had been scratched out. He found a few of them around her room.
Rage poured through his blood. The fucking bastard. Somehow he had found out where she lived. It had to be the man from the shooting. Someone who realized she had issues. If someone was a good hacker, they could probably figure out how to get her info. Of course, even the cop had known about it. It was probably in the damn report.
Fuck.
And the bastard thought he could use it against Madison. If Dante ever got close to him, he would wring the man’s neck.
With his heart heavy, he walked back out into the living room. She had resumed pacing. She stopped when she saw him. “What?”
“I think we need to call the police.”
“Why?”
“Things were definitely moved around.”
“There’s something you’re not telling me.” Then her gaze fell to the pictures. Her face drained of color.
“Oh, no.”
He set the pictures down on the coffee table. He walked towards her, grabbed her upper arms and forced her to look at him.
“Listen to me. You did not do this.”
Unshed tears shimmered in her eyes, and he knew she was barely keeping it together.
“How do you know that? Who would have done this?”
The desperation he heard in her voice tore his heart to shreds. Seeing her like this almost killed him.
“I think it might be our mystery killer.”
She blinked, sending a couple of the tears dripping down her cheeks. “What?”
“Think about it. The cop from the other night—”
“Officer Ellis?”
“Yeah. He knew about your PTSD. It might even be in the report.”
It took a second or two before her eyes widened and her face grew even paler. “Oh, God.”
The doorbell rang then, sending Charlie into a tizzy. Dante made his way to the door. When he looked through the peephole, he was surprised to find Officer Ellis standing on the porch. He opened the door.
“This is a good coincidence.”
“Excuse me?”
“We think someone might have broken in here. I am assuming you decided that maybe Madison did see a murder.”
The officer nodded.
“Come on in.”
Officer Ellis followed him down the hall. One look at Madison and he glanced at Dante. “Is she okay?”
“She can answer for herself,” Madison said, wiping away the tears. “What do you have for me?”
“I have a name and a body.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Officer Ellis showed her pictures, first of the woman before she had been attacked.
Madison studied them and sighed. The woman, Allison, had been pretty. Not gorgeous or striking, but she looked like a very nice person. She had one of those smiles that made people feel at ease.
But Madison wasn’t sure if she had been the woman.
“She could have been the woman, but I’m not sure.” She handed the picture back to Ellis. “Did they find any clothes? I might be able to recognize them.”
He shook his head. “She was found nude. No ID on her.”
“And you said she was the victim of a stalker?”
He nodded. “The guy has an alibi though. He was in the hospital that night.”
“Convenient,” Dante murmured. He was sitting beside her on the couch. Every now and then she would feel his hand brush over her back.
“Not so much. He ate some very bad oysters in San Diego. He spent the night getting his stomach pumped.”
“So, where does this leave us?”
He blew out a breath. “I’m not sure. I am going to go back over my notes. Now, tell me what happened here tonight?”
She told him everything, citing everything she did that day and what she found when she got home.
“And you’ve done this before?”
“Yes.”
“But she didn’t this time,” Dante said.
The officer looked between them, then down at Dante’s hand on her knee. “I know you don’t want to think it.”
“No. Just like every freaking drama on TV, you have a preconceived notion about people with PTSD.”
She could tell that Dante’s comment irritated the officer. “I served in the Marines, so back off on the subject.”
Dante shrugged. “The truth is, in the past, she always had huge blocks of time missing. Or she would wake up with her house that way. This time she can account for every minute of her day.”
“How about when you got home?”
“I talked to my neighbor.”
“Who told me I arrived less than ten minutes after she did. These things would have taken longer than ten minutes. Someone was in here. Someone who knows about her condition. Did you include it in your report?”
The officer made a face. “I had to.”
“Great.”
“Those are confidential.”
Dante snorted. “That’s what they say about our credit card info and NSA records, but both of them have been hacked in some way. Nothing is completely confidential. Especially if her name was associated with it. And what if it were a cop?”
Oh, Ellis didn’t like that accusation one bit, but he was smart enough to fight his reaction. He took a few seconds to calm his temper, but he couldn’t hide the anger in his eyes. Madison was pretty sure he would have told Dante to fuck off if he could.
“Okay, we are getting off track. I want you to think back about your day and if anything seemed odd, out of place, or strange, let me know. Maybe we can figure something out.”
She nodded and rose as he did. “Thank you.”
They saw him to the door. Dante closed it behind the officer. He was still frowning. He stared at her for a few moments before he spoke.
“Do you always have to put up with that?”
“What?”
“People treating you as if you’re about to go off on them because of your PTSD?”
Dante was always blunt, but it was one of the things she liked about him. Charlie walked up and sat beside her. She smoothed a palm over his head.
“Sometimes.”
“Oh, freaking irritating.” He came to her and pulled her into his arms. “How about we eat a little something, then I let you convince me we should conserve water and take a shower together?”
And like tha
t, some of her irritation and fear faded away. “Conserve water, huh?”
He nodded. “Just being responsible.”
Then he kissed her nose and headed into the kitchen. She watched him and decided right there and then, any woman who was lucky enough to spend time with a Santini was definitely blessed.
* * * *
A loud crash on his bed woke Zach the next morning. “Fucking hell.”
“Nice language, Ellis,” a sultry, southern voice said.
Not his bed, he realized. He was still at work. He opened his eyes and found Sarah Wilson smiling at him. She was holding up his stapler, ready to drop it on his desk.
“Lord, you sleep like the dead,” she said, setting his stapler down.
He rose up from his desk and stretched his arms above his head. He ran his tongue between his lip and his teeth. It felt like he had cotton stuffed up there.
“I hear you’re working the Baker case.”
He looked at her and she shrugged. “Captain wasn’t supposed to tell me, but I am his niece. I worked the original case.”
“Yeah,” he said absentmindedly. He searched his desk for his phone. He saw it was just after five in the morning. He needed a shower. No, he thought, he needed a toothbrush and then a shower.
“Hey.”
He looked up. “What?”
“I came in early when you didn’t answer my phone calls last night.”
“Phone calls?” He checked his phone and saw three missed calls. “Sorry.”
She waved it away. “I didn’t want to talk about this in mixed company because I rub people the wrong way when I talk about things, but I thought I would give you a little background.”
“I read the case files. It wasn’t really your case.”
“Nope, but I was the female officer on record for her. I was the one who found her therapist.”
Something niggled at the back of his mind. “Therapist?”
“Yes. She wanted to just go hide, but I got her in with Dr. James. He is highly sought after and usually works with the military only, but he is very good at helping with PTSD. And believe me, she had it.”
He barely heard what she said. There was something that was trying to jiggle loose from his memory and he realized it was the name. “Where do I know that name from?”
She shrugged. “Did you get help when you got back?”
He finally focused on her and realized she knew him, or at least his history.
“No. I didn’t have PTSD.”
“Ah. Well, he worked with her. He was really good.”
Ellis grabbed his notes, his mind working through what Ms. Baker had told him the night before. Then he saw the name. The connection of why someone would know who she was and how the intruder had known her idiosyncrasies.
“Fuck.”
Irritation that he hadn’t caught it before and fear for Madison Baker twisted in his chest. He stood, grabbed his jacket and his gun.
“What?”
He didn’t say anything as he called first Ms. Baker’s number then Captain Santini’s. Nothing. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Zach was running to the door when she shouted, “Where are you going?”
He gave the address. “Send some units there.”
He didn’t have any proof, he thought as he ran down the hallway to his car, but his gut was churning. Something told him Baker and Santini were in danger.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Madison came awake with a jerk. She didn’t know what had awakened her, but there was some kind of movement in the house. She listened and heard nothing, but she knew something was wrong.
“Dante,” she said, rocking him a bit.
“What?” he murmured, then moved to slide his arm over her. She felt his steady breath on her neck and knew that he was starting to fall asleep again.
“Dante, I heard something.”
The alarm wasn’t going off, but she knew someone was out there.
“You stay here,” he said, slipping out of bed. He reached the door. “Call 911 if you hear anything.”
She nodded and grabbed the phone. There was nothing for a few moments, then, a scuffle. She clicked the phone on; ready to call when she realized that there was no dial tone. Damn. She set it aside and grabbed her cell and realized there was a missed call on it. Before she could key in her security code, there was a shot.
“Dante!”
She sprung out of bed and headed to the door as she keyed in her code and dialed 911. She tripped over something large and fell to the floor, the phone flying out of her hand and crashing to the floor. She looked back and found Charlie laying there, sound asleep.
“Charlie,” she whispered. Then the door creaked open, light spilling into the room.
“He will be fine, Madison. Just a little sleepy stuff in his food.”
She knew that voice. It had been the one she had listened to each week. It belonged to the one person she had always trusted.
“Dr. James?”
He sighed, regret easy to hear in his voice. “Sorry about this really.”
He stepped into the room and she scrambled back. She wanted to hide, but he turned on the light. She blinked against the brightness of it.
“You’re sorry about this?” she asked.
“Yes. I didn’t mean to come after you, but when you revealed what you knew about Allison’s murder, I had no choice.”
“You killed Allison?”
He nodded.
“I had no idea. Why?”
“She was a patient. Very troubled.”
“And for that you shot her?”
She knew Dante’s phone was on the bedside table. She had to figure out a way to distract him. Keep him talking.
“No. I had an affair with her you see. When I tried to break it off, she threatened to tell my wife and report me to the medical board. I couldn’t have that.”
“So you killed her for that?”
“I tried to reason with her.”
“And now you are going to kill me?”
He shrugged. “I have no choice.”
“What did you do to Dante?”
“Dante? Oh, yes, your Marine lover is probably dying or dead. I did try to shoot him in a way that would lessen his suffering.”
He made it sound like he was the fucking humanitarian of the year.
“And when the police arrive, they will find you, dead, by your own hand. Another sufferer of PTSD gone bad. Of course, what is worse, you killed a highly decorated Marine.”
Anger sliced through her. She wanted to see Dante, to hold him, to hear him breathe and make sure he was okay. But the words Dr. James said to her pierced through the veil of shock that seemed to be holding her still.
“I am not going bad.” She ground out every word.
“Oh, but the notes will prove it.”
Then with dawning horror Madison realized the man had probably doctored her file. No doubt it would show a woman on the edge, not one who had been thriving. She knew it was now or never. She would not go down without a fight.
She rose up then, taking him by surprise. He got a shot off, but she already had his arm. The shot went wide. With all the strength she had, she punched him, then tried to claw at him. He stumbled back, but easily gained his balance. He pushed her down and she want tumbling back, hitting her head against her dresser. Pain radiated out from the back of her head.
He stepped closer and she tried to move back but found herself up against the nightstand. She lifted her hand to get something, anything to throw at him. His fingers dug into her hair and he yanked her closer. He set the barrel of the gun against her temple.
“I am really sorry about this, Madison.”
She closed her eyes, preparing herself to die. In the next second, though, she heard the sweetest voice.
“You fucking bastard,” Dante growled. She opened her eyes in time to see him launch himself toward Dr. James.
T
he doctor screamed and fell back onto her bed, then they tumbled to the floor. The gun flew out of his hand and skidded over her wooden floor. It went somewhere under her bed. Dante won the struggle, of course, straddling the doctor as he slammed his head over and over onto the floor. It was easy to see that their attacker was now unconscious.
She crawled forward. “Dante.”
He didn’t seem to hear her.
“Dante!” She grabbed his arm. He had blood oozing out of the opposite shoulder. He turned to her. The look she saw in his eyes scared the hell out of her. He meant to kill the doctor.
“Dante, babe, please, no. Don’t.”
His hand spasmed on Dr. James’ shirt.
“Don’t kill him. Please. Don’t do this. Not like this. I love you, don’t do anything you’ll regret.”
He let loose of the doctor. His head landed with a thud. Sirens sounded in the distance as he leaned toward her.
“Madison.” He cupped her face then kissed her. Feet pounded down the hall and she heard people shouting. Still, Dante kissed her.
“Jesus,” Jack said from behind them.
Madison pulled back from the kiss and looked over. Officer Ellis was right behind him.
“It was my therapist. It was Dr. James.”
She realized then that Dante was leaning more heavily on her. She looked at him and noticed his eyes were fluttering closed.
“He was shot,” she said.
In the distance, she heard the officer calling for a paramedic. Dante’s breath was against her neck.
“Don’t leave me, Madison.”
“I won’t.”
Then, his eyes shut and she prayed they got him to the hospital in time.
* * * *
She sat in a chair, Jack by her side, blood on her clothes.
Dante’s blood.
She pushed that thought away. Madison knew that if she dwelled on that fact, she would fall apart. Without Charlie, she was barely holding onto her sanity as it was.
Hannah had taken over, and they had gotten him settled in at their house. Jack had just received a text saying Charlie was doing well. And while not chipper, he was able to wake up and apparently had no ill effects.
ASantiniinLoveMelissa Schroeder Page 11