The only man still alive was Matt Dianetti.
Jac shuddered, her arms wrapping around her chilled body. She had to do something. She snapped her fingers. The police. She would show them the lists and her research. They could warn Matt and protect him while they tracked down the killer.
* * * *
An hour later, Jac stomped down the police station steps and contemplated kicking the paper vending machine on the sidewalk. They hadn’t believed her. In fact, they laughed, mocked her, practically called her crazy. She pleaded with several officers, even detectives to no avail.
“Lady, I wrote up the report on Ty Baxter myself,” a cop told her. “He was a known user, had track marks up and down his arms. We even found drug paraphernalia scattered about his apartment. It wasn’t murder that killed him. He was an overdose waiting to happen.”
“Take that overactive imagination home and brew some tea,” she mimicked one of the officers in a low voice. Anger bubbled up and welled over. “To serve and protect, my ass!” She ignored the two officers nearby. Both men looked up at her outburst, hands automatically covering their weapons. Lowering her head, she scurried to her Jeep and closed the door.
I don’t care what the police say. A killer is on the loose.
Her head dropped to the steering wheel. She had to figure out her next step. Didn’t the FBI handle murder across state lines? Clearly this had to be the work of a serial killer. But what if they laughed at her as well? What if they said they’d look into it and she put her trust in them but they let it slide? Would the killer succeed in murdering Matt?
That was unacceptable.
Cranking the ignition, she shifted into gear and stepped on the gas. She was about to do the only thing she could.
She was going to warn Matt Dianetti in person.
* * * *
It wasn’t hard to find Matt Dianetti’s house. She’d always admired the huge homes lining Lake Monroe north of the causeway, nestled in the trees, featuring spectacular water views. His exclusive neighborhood included rocker John Mellencamp.
The houses along the stretch boasted locked gates and Jac wondered how to get around that barrier. She slowed, chewed on her bottom lip and approached Matt’s mailbox. Her lips curved at the festive fall decorations. An overstuffed scarecrow wearing a flannel shirt and faded blue jeans perched on a hay bale surrounded by pumpkins and gourds. It was whimsical and charming.
Her eyes moved past the display to the black iron fence. The gate stood wide open. Flipping on her signal, she turned and followed the curving road up a hill. The landscaped drive was meticulously clean. Jac sucked in a deep breath as she stared at the most magnificent home she’d ever seen. Made with huge log timbers, fieldstone and miles of glass, the two story mansion sported graceful entryways, wrap-around balconies and soaring chimneys.
The rustic masterpiece, massive without being ostentatious, belonged on a mountain in the Swiss Alps, not a man-made lake in the heart of the Midwest.
The driveway circled around a tiered fountain lushly landscaped with ornamental grass and flowers, blooming even in October. The drive continued on to veer under an arched walkway that led to the garage, made to resemble the house. The only word Jac would use to describe the estate was perfect.
Maneuvering the Jeep to the two-story entryway, she shut off the engine and sat in the dark, gathering courage. She almost psyched herself up to face him when she examined her outfit. Why hadn’t she changed out of her work clothes? Her ensemble consisted of ripped jeans, red Nikes, a red zip front hooded sweatshirt and a long sleeve t-shirt that read: “PMS: Practice More Swimming.” It had been a gift from an old boyfriend who thought she spent more time in the water than with him. He meant it sarcastically. Jac loved it. She kept the shirt but dumped the guy.
She flipped down the visor to check her makeup and stared at her reflection with horror. Her pale face looked like death warmed over. She cringed. “Aargh, bad choice of words.”
Exhaling, she dug through her purse for lipstick. All she could come up with was Urban Decay’s Lube in a Tube. She had no idea where it came from. Shrugging, she twisted off the cap and squeezed the red-tinted gloss across her lips. Mango. Not bad. One last swipe and she tossed it in her bag.
She couldn’t put it off any longer. She had to get out and face Matt. She debated about what she should tell him. “I’ll just knock on the door and say ‘Hi, you don’t know me but you could be the target of a serial killer.’ Yeah, and that will get the door slammed in my face. Hmm.” She tapped her fingers on the arm rest. “Maybe, ‘My name is Jac and the police think I’m a fruitcake but I’m positive you’re about to be murdered.’ She shook her head vigorously. “How about, ‘I’ve been in love with you since I was ten and I want to suck those sexy lips. Ah!”
Jac sprung from her seat, slamming her thighs into the steering wheel at the sharp rap on the glass. Her panic-filled eyes darted to the window where an angelic faced young woman with flawless skin stared at her with open curiosity. The girl’s long blonde bangs blew softly across her face and she made a rolling motion with her finger. Jac stared at her in confusion. What? Oh, roll down the window. Duh, Jac. She depressed the button and frowned when the window refused to budge. Mentally, she slapped her forehead. Power windows, idiot. Fumbling for the keys, she cranked the ignition to A/C and lowered the window.
“Hi,” the girl said. “I’m sorry if I interrupted. Are you on the phone?”
Jac blinked with bafflement. “Excuse me?”
The girl tilted her head, shiny blonde hair falling over a slender shoulder. “You looked to be talking to someone when I walked up, maybe on a speaker phone?”
Jac colored fiercely. “Uh…um…yes, yes I was on the phone. Let me just say goodbye.” She angled her head to the console. “I’ll see you in the morning, Darlene. Bye.” Jac faked hanging up, prayed the blush had faded and turned back to the girl.
The young woman smiled charmingly. “Are you lost?”
“I-I don’t think so.” Good grief, could she be a bigger loser? Speaking with Matt had her—an almost thirty-year-old woman with her own business—tongue tied in front of a child.
“I was trying to find Mr. Dianetti’s house.”
“Is Daddy expecting you?”
Jac barely stifled a gasp. This striking young woman was Matt’s daughter? She must be sixteen. Had he been married that long? How come she didn’t know about it? She followed his career religiously, planned her schedule around his games. When an injury forced him to retire, her life lost focus.
“Is something wrong?” The girl’s brow tilted, and she appeared uncertain. Jac realized she was scowling.
Regaining her composure, she said, “Oh, no, I’m sorry. You’re Matt’s daughter?” At the girl’s nod, she added, “I met your father a long time ago. Way long time. He saved my life actually. He wouldn’t remember me, I’m sure. As I said, it was a long time ago. I have something important to discuss with him, if he’s home, that is.” Jac blinked slowly. God, now she was rambling. So much for composure.
A smile spread across the girl’s face, making her even lovelier. “Dad got called away on a business emergency. Why don’t you come inside and wait. I’m not sure how long he’ll be but I’d love to hear how he saved your life.”
“Oh, no, I don’t want to disturb you and your mother.”
The girl snorted. “Corinne is already disturbed. She’s in Tahiti or Bermuda or some equally remote and thankfully distant location.” She stepped back. “Please, come in. My name is Lauren, by the way.”
Jac opened the door and slid outside. “It’s nice to meet you Lauren. My name is Jacqueline, but everyone calls me Jac.”
Lauren jerked to an abrupt stop and spun to face her. “Get out,” she breathed, startled. Then her face split into a suspiciously wicked smile. “Perfect.”
“Excuse me?”
“My dad’s old football teammates called him Diane. If you two got together, you’d be Jac and Diane. Get it? L
ike the song—sung coincidentally by our neighbor.” She clapped her hands together. “Ohh, this is fantastic.”
Jac took a step back, frantically tossing her head and waving her hands. “You’re way off base, Lauren. I have something I need to discuss with your father. That’s the only reason I’m here.”
“Are you married?”
“Well, no, but—”
“Engaged?”
Jac shook her head.
“Dating anyone seriously?”
Jac’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “No.”
“Neither is Dad. Why are we standing around out here?” Perkily she spun on her heel. “Follow me.”
Jac got the impression of a pretty little witch getting ready to toss ingredients into a bubbling black cauldron and cast a spell on the unsuspecting.
She moaned miserably and trailed in the scheming little pixie’s wake.
* * * *
Lauren couldn’t keep the smile off her face. Jacqueline Sera was perfect.
She worried about her dad finding happiness. When he should have been fun-loving, carefree, his life was filled with raising a little girl all by himself. Not only had he been a football star worshipped by millions, but he was also drop dead gorgeous. He could have had any woman he wanted.
While his teammates partied with groupies and picked up dates in bars, he came home, changed diapers, read her bedtime stories and got up in the middle of the night to feed and comfort her. God couldn’t have given her a better parent and she loved him so much it hurt. She only wanted him to be happy.
He almost remarried when she was seven. It was her fault he didn’t. She still felt the heavy burden of guilt.
He’d not dated seriously since.
Lauren knew his dormant love life was all her fault. If he didn’t have her to worry about, he would have had opportunities to date and possibly meet his dream woman. She wasn’t naïve. She knew he had liaisons even though he went to great pains to hide them from her. But he never brought a female home, not after the disaster eight years ago.
Now, as if a prayer had been answered, a charming woman with a serendipitous name appeared like a gift on their doorstep. She considered wrapping a big pink bow around Jac and presenting her to her dad. She chuckled.
She led Jac to the soaring great room. “Can I take your jacket?”
“What did you say?”
Lauren bit back another smile. Jac was scanning the interior and she could see the wonder and appreciation in her eyes. She knew Jac would be blown away by the house, especially this room. Floor to ceiling windows covered two walls and looked out over the landscaped pool and beyond to the lake. A stone fireplace stretched along one wall and a balcony overlooked the room. Wood floors, overstuffed furniture and her dad’s trophies on display in a huge case made this room a comfortable retreat.
“I asked if I could take your coat.”
Jac’s startled eyes snapped to hers. “Oh, I’m sorry, Lauren. I didn’t mean to be rude. I was just admiring your home. It’s amazing.”
“Thank you. Won’t you have a seat?”
Jac shook her head. “I can’t stay long.” Her movements belied her words as she stripped off her sweatshirt and sank into a suede chair.
“I’m dying to hear how my dad saved your life.”
Jac burrowed further into the cushions and proceeded to reveal how Matt pulled her from the lake when she was a young girl. The grandfather clock in the hallway chimed and in the blink of an eye, an hour passed. Jac nervously studied her watch. “Shouldn’t your father be here by now? I have something important to discuss with him.”
“He didn’t know when he’d be back, a problem with the—” the phone rang—“contractors. That’s probably him.” Lauren hopped up to answer. “Hello?”
“Hey, princess. I just finished. I’ll be home soon.”
Turning her back to Jac, she cupped a hand over the phone and whispered, “Okay, be careful, Daddy. Bye.”
Lauren padded back to the great room. “That was Dad. He’s been delayed and won’t be back until late.” She crossed her fingers behind her back. A twinge of discomfort settled in her belly when Jac’s lips thinned with concern. She hated deceiving her, but she had a plan. “Can you come back tomorrow, say six?”
Jac chewed on a thumbnail. “It’s important that I speak with him. I guess I could come back if he’s busy.”
“Oh he is,” Lauren confirmed. She grabbed Jac’s jacket, hoping to hurry her along. Her plans would be shot to heck if her dad walked in while Jac was still here. Practically pushing Jac to the door, she bid her goodnight but paused. “Jac?”
Jac turned, her brows raised in question.
“Don’t eat before you come over. I’ll make dinner.”
“Oh no, I couldn’t stay that long.”
“Do you like Italian?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“Great, see you tomorrow.” Lauren stopped Jac’s refusal by closing the door. She fell back against it, smiling.
Five
October 4
Jac finally relaxed enough to go to bed, but when her head hit the pillow, her mind refused to shut off. She thought about Matt and his daughter and serial killers.
What had she gotten herself into? Lauren completely misinterpreted her visit. She could practically see the wheels spinning in the young girl’s head, spinning with ideas she had no reason to be thinking. Jac’s only purpose in seeing Matt was to warn him of a serial killer. Nothing else.
The man no doubt dated supermodels and actresses, not marginally attractive girl-next-door types. He was a Greek god and judging from his daughter, he found an equally exquisite Greek goddess to marry and procreate with. He would have absolutely no interest in Jacqueline Sera.
She tossed and turned all night, the sheets wrapping around her legs. Her dreams were dark and disturbing, an almost tangible feeling of evil permeated her subconscious.
She rolled to her back and kicked at the binding covers. If something happened to Matt, it would be her fault. It was bad enough that Ty, Caleb, Riley and Jere Lipton died because she needed four names to go with the only one that mattered. What started out as a silly, harmless game among best friends had turned into a deadly real one. She didn’t care what the police said. Someone wanted to destroy all the men she and Tash and Nicole lusted after years ago.
Why was the question with an unfathomable answer.
She was pretty sure she didn’t have enemies or if she did, they wouldn’t hate her enough to commit cold-blooded murder. Maybe Nicole or Tash did. Maybe she should hire a detective to track down Nicole.
Her contemplation turned back to Matt’s daughter, Lauren. She had Matt’s eyes but her hair color must come from her mom. She was a gorgeous girl and in another few years, she would be a breathtaking woman. Poor Matt. He would have to beat guys away with a stick, if he wasn’t already.
Sighing deeply, she threw back the blankets, knowing she wouldn’t get any more sleep. She pulled out a mat and ran through a battery of yoga stretches. When she finished, she showered and headed to the club. She was in her office when her assistant, Darlene Moore, bopped in.
“Hey, I called you last night. Why didn’t you answer?”
Jac contemplated how much she should divulge. She didn’t want her to worry, but Darlene was the closest thing to family she had left. They met at the health club in California and an instant friendship developed. Darlene manned the reception desk while Jac taught classes and worked as a trainer. Their bond tightened after Jac’s parents died in an accident. Darlene was also a twenty-something orphan. When Jac decided to move home to start her own club, Darlene had been her biggest cheerleader, even volunteering to move with her to launch the club. Jac couldn’t have been happier.
Darlene knew about the infamous lists. Jac told her all about them after receiving Nicole’s card with the reminder. Darlene laughed at her choice of Jere Lipton and then wanted to make her own but decided she wouldn’t be able to limit it to fiv
e.
Darlene also knew all about Jac’s obsession with Matt Dianetti. Over several margaritas one night, Jac confessed her undying love for the football superstar.
Tugging off her hat, Darlene tunneled a hand through her short red hair. “I thought we could try that Chinese place on Third Street and rent a movie. How about tonight, instead?”
A pang of guilt stabbed at Jac. Darlene was new in town, didn’t know many people—although she’d slept with at least two construction workers already. Darlene’s nymphomania concerned Jac. Not that she was a prude, but Darlene’s low self-esteem apparently had her giving herself to anything with a Y chromosome and pulse. She bugged Jac to date more and tried to set her up with men she usually met in bars. It just wasn’t Jac’s scene.
“I can’t tonight.” When Darlene’s shoulders slumped in dejection Jac decided to bend the truth and reveal that she met Matt’s daughter and had been invited to dinner. Not a lie, but not the complete truth, either.
“Are you telling me you are going to the Matt Dianetti’s house? Tonight?” Darlene choked out an incredulous laugh. “Why would he want to have dinner with you?”
Jac’s jaw dropped at the cutting remark. Her friend seemed to ignore the fact that it was his daughter who invited her. Darlene added, “I mean, you’re great and all but come on.” She laughed mockingly. “That guy could have any woman on the planet.”
Even though tonight was definitely not a date, the devil on Jac’s shoulder made her say, “You’re always hassling me about dating more often.”
“Yeah, but good grief, Jac.” She slapped a hand to her hip. “You have to be realistic.” She paused, her eyes roving the area. “What about Stu over there?”
When Jac’s gaze followed Darlene’s finger, she caught the short, mustached man staring at her. He smiled and wiggled his fingers. She lifted her hand in response and refocused on her assistant. “You’re saying that I, a plain Jane, could never get Matt Dianetti, a gorgeous stud. Is that it?”
The List Page 3