“I don’t mind.” There was no way Brooke was getting hurt on his watch. All he could do was hope the police caught the assailant before he left for New York on Monday morning.
Two hours later Luke exited the Schuylkill Expressway onto Broad Street in Philadelphia. The kids sat silently in the backseat, Chris upbeat, Haley sullen. She stared out the car window, occasionally wiping a stray tear from her cheek.
Brooke’s head was back, her eyes closed. What was she thinking?
Luke followed his GPS, threading through the city streets until he pulled into the parking garage underneath Ian’s building. He walked around the front of the car, but Brooke was already climbing out.
She glanced up at the ceiling. “Are you going to be all right going up? Ian’s apartment is on the twentieth floor. I can take the kids up by myself.”
“I can do it.” Luke wasn’t as sure as he tried to sound, but he wasn’t letting her out of his sight for a second. Obviously Brooke felt the same about her kids or she would have sent them up on their own.
They walked toward the lobby. In the middle of the marble floor, a guard sat behind a desk.
Brooke approached the guard. “Brooke Davenport to see Ian Davenport. Apartment 2015.”
The guard made a quick call. “Go on up.”
The elevator opened. With a deep breath, Luke herded the family on board. Brooke pushed a button. They were halfway to Ian’s twentieth floor apartment when Luke realized he wasn’t sweating. He froze. His pulse was normal. The slight churning in his gut was worry for Brooke and her kids, not himself. Not the blind panic he’d experienced every other time he’d been in a skyscraper since the explosion.
Where was the nausea? Where were the clammy palms? Sure, he was on edge trying to watch everyone who came within ten feet of Brooke. Every male who so much as glanced at her was suspect. But the uncontrollable panic was absent.
What. The. Hell?
Was he too preoccupied with protecting Brooke to worry about his own safety? That must be it. How else could he explain the fact that he was twenty stories up in a glass rectangle and not freaking out?
The car stopped, and he ushered the group into a plush hall. A fortyish man was waiting, gray temples, fairly fit, nice suit. Chris gave his mom a hug and a goodbye. Haley put her head down and stomped off. The kids headed for an open door. Brooke hung back.
“Nice to see you, Brooke.” Her ex stuffed his hands in the pockets of a pair of dress trousers. “You look tired.”
“I’m fine.” Brooke’s face was devoid of emotion. Her voice sounded deliberately polite. She gestured to Luke. “Luke Holloway, Ian Davenport.”
Ian held out a hand. “So, you’re a friend of Wade’s.”
Luke shook it. “I am.”
“Thanks for driving them down here.” Ian crossed his arms over his chest. His lips pursed. Was he unhappy seeing Brooke with Luke? Too bad. Ian had tossed her away. His loss.
“You’re welcome.” There didn’t seem to be much more to say.
Ian focused on Brooke. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay too?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” Brooke’s tone went subzero.
Ian rocked back on his heels. “Offer stands. Just because we’re divorced doesn’t mean I don’t still care about you.”
“Thank you, Ian.” Her voice warmed from freezer to fridge.
Her ex nodded. “Nice to meet you, Luke.” Ian headed for the open door. “Please be careful, Brooke.”
She didn’t respond, but her lips flattened out as she turned away from her ex.
The elevator doors closed. Brooke turned to him. “How are you?”
“Fine.” Did he sound as shocked as he felt?
“Ian seems OK.” Which almost annoyed Luke.
“That’s Ian. Always calm. Always composed. Nothing can rattle him.” Her eyes were wet. She swiped a finger under her lower lashes and sniffed. “I can’t thank you enough for bringing us here. I can’t imagine how hard it was for you.”
“No really. I’m fine. I can’t believe it, but I’m having no issues at all.” The elevator opened and they made their way through the lobby to the garage. He steered her toward his car. He watched between the rows and under the vehicles for movement. “Before the explosion, I wouldn’t have wanted to celebrate a successful elevator ride. But now, I want to pop the cork on a bottle of champagne, which is actually kind of sad.” He reached for her door, then paused and stepped in close.
“No, it’s great.” Her were misty. “I’m happy for you.”
It wasn’t the best time for a romantic moment, but there wasn’t anyone else who would understand the importance of his milestone. “I’m glad you were here with me.”
He stared at her mouth. So tempting.
“Me too.” She smiled. “I guess this mean you’re cured. You can get back to work.”
“Maybe not cured, but it’s a definite improvement.” Why did the thought of going back to work ruin his mood? He should be thrilled.
Brooke went quiet. Was she thinking about the danger that waited for them back in Westbury or the fact that her children weren’t safe in their own home? She was vulnerable physically and emotionally. As Luke well knew, psychological trauma could be the more debilitating of the two. Her vulnerability was one more reason Luke should keep his hands to himself and concentrate on her safety.
Luke scanned the rows of cars. Lots of places for someone to hide. He opened her door, the concrete seeping cold through his shoes. Between Monday night’s assailant and Joe, danger could lurk in any shadow.
Brooke slid into the plush, black leather, glad to be out of the subterranean damp. She shivered, and Luke switched on the seat heater. Her butt warmed in a few seconds. “I could get used to this.”
“I’m not in the country much. I’ve had the car for over a year, and I’ve barely driven it. I’m enjoying tooling around in it this week.”
Soon he’d be back to traveling the globe. She tried to summon up some enthusiasm. He’d been stunned and relieved in the elevator. He deserved his happiness, but she was going to miss him. She still couldn’t believe he walked right into that elevator knowing how uncomfortable it could have been for him. He’d done it with no hesitation because he cared more about her and her family than himself.
No wonder her brother trusted Luke.
He pulled into traffic and headed back up Route 676. On the Schuylkill Expressway, bumper-to-bumper traffic slowed their trip home, but once they hit the Northeast Extension of the Pennsylvania Turnpike, the traffic thinned.
Brooke’s stomach rumbled as the car exited the interstate toward Westbury. A shopping center appeared in the distance, and an idea popped into Brooke’s head. “How about some food?”
Luke rolled his head on his shoulders. “Good idea. I’m starving.”
“Do you like Chinese?”
“Chinese is fine.”
Brooke pointed ahead. “Then pull into that strip mall. The Jade Dragon has terrific pot stickers.” She didn’t mention that Maddie’s gym anchored the center.
Luke slowed the car and turned into the entrance. He drove past Forever Fitness. Ads in the front window obscured the view inside. He parked the car in front of the restaurant. Brooke got out of the car and stretched. Her limbs were stiff from the four-hour drive to Philly and back. Luke followed her into the restaurant. Soft, instrumental flute music played in the background. The smell of food sent Brooke’s stomach into another rumble.
They stepped up to the hostess podium. A tiny woman greeted them with a wide smile and slightly accented English. “Welcome to the Jade Dragon. Would you like to eat in or take out?”
Brooke glanced at Luke. The restaurant was quiet, but she had no desire to sit here and eat. What she really wanted to do was snuggle on her couch and watch another movie with him. “Do you mind takeout? I’m bushed.”
“Fine with me.”
The hostess handed Luke a paper menu. Brooke leaned close to read it. How did soap smell so go
od on him? “The pot stickers and an order of ginger chicken.”
“One egg roll and beef lo mein.” Luke handed the menu back to the hostess.
She gave him a short bow. “Ten minutes.”
“Let’s walk. My knee needs to loosen up.” Brooke checked the time on her cell phone, then led Luke back outside. They ambled along, looking into storefronts, until they came to the end, Forever Fitness. “I’m going to stop in the gym and ask around.”
Luke’s face fell in a suspicious frown. “Why?”
Brooke lifted a casual shoulder. “I’m just going to ask for membership information and take a quick tour. Nothing wrong with that.”
“Brooke, the police might not like your interference.” Luke’s tone dropped to low and serious.
She raised her chin. “I’ve been thinking about joining a gym for quite a while now. This is the closest one to my house. I heard they give discounts to teachers.”
“I’m not buying it, and I don’t like it.” He said, but he followed her inside.
Brooke stopped at the reception desk. Behind it, a juice bar offered smoothies and protein drinks. A large matted area divided the workout area into thirds. Cardio machines were lined up in three rows on the left. A decent selection of weight machines occupied the middle of the space. Free weights spanned the right third of the room. A dozen members were spread out over the equipment.
“Can I help you?” The man at the desk said over the clink of weights and the steady thump of sneakers on treadmills. He was muscular, but not in the bulky, deformed way she’d seen at the other gym in town, a hard-core facility that trained bodybuilders. His lean physique suggested an active sport like track and field or rock climbing. Brooke read the name tag pinned to his navy blue logo T-shirt. ZACK.
“Hi. I’m a teacher at Westbury High. A friend of mine suggested your gym. Maddie Thorpe. Do you know her?”
Zack paused. He blinked away for a second. “No. I can’t picture her, but we have a lot of members. I can’t remember everyone.”
Liar. “Could I look around?” Brooke smiled.
“Of course. We give discounts to teachers and students,” Zack said.
Brooke raised a “told you” brow at Luke. He didn’t look impressed.
Zack motioned to a teen in a Forever Fitness T-shirt. “Watch the desk, please.”
He stepped out from behind the counter and led them into the main space, pointing out the obvious as they walked. “We have state-of-the-art cardio equipment, free weights, and machines. Have you ever belonged to a gym?”
“No.” Running and cross-training on her heavy bag had always been enough. She eyed the defined muscles of a young girl on an elliptical trainer. Maybe she should add weight training to her regime.
“Every membership comes with three free personal-training sessions to get you started. Our trainers will show you how to set up and operate the machines, plus they’ll develop a beginner program for you.” Zack opened the door to a large room with a wood floor. Brooke stuck her head in and looked around. The front wall was mirrored; equipment lined the other three. Music blared. Two dozen men and women hoisted kettle bells. “This is our fitness class studio. We have everything from boot camp to Zumba. That’s a Latin dance–based class. It burns a ton of calories.” Zack’s attention strayed to a well-built redhead in ultra-skimpy spandex shorts in the back row. She sensed his stare and shot him a get-real-creep eye roll.
Zack closed the door and circled back to the front desk. “Why don’t I set you both up with free two-week memberships? You can try a few classes and see what you like.”
“That sounds great.” Brooke filled out a short form and passed the pen to Luke.
Zack handed them two paper IDs. He slid a paper across the counter to Brooke. “Here’s a class schedule.” He circled five blocks on the grid. “These are the Zumba classes.”
“Thank you.” Brooke folded the paper and stuffed it into her purse. She turned away from the desk.
“Hope to see you soon.” Zack smiled.
“Hey, Brooke.”
She spun.
Greg Fines was exiting the locker room, gym bag in hand. “What are you doing here?”
She shrugged. “I’ve been thinking about joining.”
“Don’t you run all the time with the track team?” Greg asked.
Snagged. Think fast. “I need to start cross-training,” Brooke said.
“That is important.” Greg looked to Luke.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Brooke introduced them. “Have you been working out here long?”
Greg’s eyes wandered to a twenty-something in spandex that was leaving the gym.
“Greg?” Brooke prompted.
“Oh, sorry.” He gave her a sheepish grin. “Yoga pants are the greatest invention of the twentieth century.” Greg gave Luke a nudge-nudge look.
Luke gave Brooke a what’s-with-this-guy shrug.
Brooke resisted the urge to snap her fingers in Greg’s face. “I asked you if you’d been working out here long.”
“Years.” Greg nodded like a bobblehead. “It’s not like I’m going to get a workout coaching the robotics team.”
“Good point.” Brooke laughed.
“Well, I have to run.” He was watching yoga-pants girl get into a baby-blue Prius. “See you tomorrow.” He bolted through the door, stopped cold in the lot, and gave the girl a dorky half wave. She backed out and zoomed off. She did not flip him off, but it was close.
Greg pivoted and jogged across the lot. A huge grin split his skinny face.
Yup. Greg was clueless.
“I bet our food is ready.” Luke held the door open.
“Probably.” Brooke exited. She hugged her biceps against the dropping temperature. “Maybe I’ll come to a Zumba class.”
Luke sighed. “You can barely walk without limping. I think Zumba is a stretch.”
Damn. He was right. “What I need is a member roster.”
“I doubt Zack will give you one.”
“I know. Speaking of Zack, did you catch the way he was staring at that redhead? It was creepy. She wasn’t happy about it.”
“I agree he was kind of a jerk about it, but those were some small shorts.”
Hm. A pang of jealousy shot through her. “You noticed her?”
“Just vaguely.” He leaned back and looked at her. “You’d look better in those shorts.”
“Nice cover.” Brooke snorted. Her underwear covered more.
Luke laughed, and they walked back toward the Jade Dragon. Inside, a brown bag waited for them on the counter. The aroma of fried dumplings carried to the doorway.
Brooke unzipped her purse and fished inside, but Luke already had his out. “I’ll get it.”
“Thank you.” It felt almost like a normal date.
Except they were trying to find a killer.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
He tilted her head. The angle had to be just right. There. Perfect. He rubbed an aching muscle in his neck. Who would have thought she would’ve been so hard to maneuver through the narrow window? Her limbs were immobile, and her joints were stiff from being in his cellar for such a long time.
Despite the damp chill of Brooke’s basement, sweat dripped down his face.
Wiping his brow on a sleeve, he straightened and assessed the scene. He moved back to stand in front of the washing machine. With the top open, Brooke wouldn’t see her at first. No. She’d add clothes and detergent and then close the lid and start the unit.
That’s when her eyes would pick up the anomaly. The thing that didn’t belong.
Excitement hummed as he pictured Brooke freezing at the sight, then walking toward it hesitantly. Would the terror strike right away or would it take a while to sink in? Would she need to peel down the sheet before panic sprinted through her veins?
He visualized Brooke kneeling on the concrete, lifting the corner of the sheet, gasping in horror. Would she faint?
No. Not Brooke. She’d fight the terror lik
e a champ.
His hand dropped to his groin, and he rubbed the hard bulge in his pants.
Tonight hadn’t been enough. His appetite was whetted rather than sated by the evening’s activities. His victim hadn’t fought hard enough and had died far too quickly. He was to blame. He lost control. Choking the fight out of her had escalated to strangulation before he’d even gotten to try out the pulley system. Damn. He’d been counting on a dress rehearsal before the main show.
He adjusted the sheet over the bloody face and pulled some dark locks down over her shoulder. Better.
Now for part two of tonight’s plan. He crept up the stairs and carefully opened the door to a dark kitchen. His hand swept along the wall for a light switch. He found it but hesitated. Brooke didn’t have neighbors to see the light, but a car driving by wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. Shuffling across the floor, he fished in his pocket for his flashlight. He palmed it and pushed the switch with his thumb. Where was the big man sleeping? Brooke had two children. She wouldn’t sleep with a man while her kids were in the house. So, the big man would be sleeping on the couch. He shone the light around the kitchen and walked toward a dark hallway. He passed an office and found a cozy den. He swept his light in a wide arc. A black duffel bag was in the corner.
Woof.
He froze.
A car door slammed outside.
His pulse jolted.
She was home. He glanced at his watch. The basement setup had taken much longer than he’d anticipated. He turned back toward the basement door.
His feet tangled, and he fell forward. What the fuck? Brooke’s damned dog cowered under his legs. Blinding anger surged through him. He kicked at the stupid creature and rooted through his pockets for a knife.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Brooke carried the take-out boxes into the den while Luke took the dog out back. She spread the food out on the coffee table and went back to the kitchen for forks and napkins. Luke and Sunshine walked into the room.
“She’s favoring her right foreleg.” Luke put a worried hand on the dog’s head.
Brooke ran her hands down each of the dog’s legs. “I don’t feel anything. Maybe her arthritis is acting up. If it doesn’t clear up in the next day or two I’ll have the vet check it out.”
She Can Scream Page 17