After reading the article about her on Monday, he parked outside the club but never saw her leave. Frustrated, he spent the next morning at the public library looking up her home address on the internet. Having overslept, he didn’t get to the club until the afternoon and again, the bitch didn’t show.
A few minutes after she pulled into the street, he threw open his door and crossed the lot. He stuck his hands in his pockets and whistled as he scanned the vicinity. Construction sounds rang out as men worked on updating the structure. With all the hustle and bustle going on, he hoped to be able to do a little snooping and find out what he could about the evil bitch that all but killed his brother.
He fell in step behind a woman in black spandex as she entered the building. He sidestepped the closing door and paused while his eyes adjusted from bright sunlight to florescent bulbs. Sawdust pierced his nose and hung in the air like a cloud, glittering when the sun’s rays filtered through the windows and highlighted individual specks.
Marcus’s eyes roamed the interior, noting the work in progress. He zeroed in on a Spandex-covered behind. The woman dropped a letter and bent to pick it up. He moved closer. The woman straightened, spotted him and shrieked, tossing a handful of envelopes through the air.
Marcus knew the ladies found him attractive in a rugged, dangerous way. Maybe his hair was a bit long and maybe his nose was a little banged up, but he spent all those stints in prison honing his body. Chicks also dug the tattoos covering his arms. He was especially proud of the menacing red bird his brother had carved to celebrate their last name. Marcus has returned the favor and engraved one on Sean’s arm.
Man, he missed his brother.
“You scared me,” spandex woman shrieked. “Can I help you with something?”
The woman jarred him from his thoughts and he shook his head to clear the memories. She stared at him curiously. He allowed his eyes to canvas her body. Not bad. Not bad at all. Noticing his perusal, she gave a little wiggle and ran her hands down her sides. She had spiky red hair and wide green eyes. The black tights hugged a small waist and the teeny white t-shirt she wore revealed a pierced belly button—um, sexy—and molded to one bodacious set of ta-tas.
Tearing his gaze from them, he watched her throat work as she swallowed roughly.
“I was hoping to join this here fine club. You an employee?”
“Yes.” She cleared her throat. “I’m sort of a…a vice president.”
Impressive. She would know Jacqueline Sera well. He could use this tramp the same way he used Nicole Southern. Nicole spilled all her secrets, telling him all about the stupid lists the girls made and even where they buried the box. What secrets could he harvest from this broad?
“So Red, you married?” Not that it mattered. He had no scruples.
When she shook her head, he nodded toward the exit. “Wanna grab some lunch?”
Nine
Jac pushed through the door to Matt’s office building and surveyed the surroundings. The interior was as magnificent as the exterior. An older structure refurbished to accentuate its past glory, the marble columns added luxury to the already lavish entry. As she stepped onto the plush oriental carpet, a bubbly brunette with large green eyes greeted her from behind a counter. A nameplate introduced her as Ellen Timms.
“Welcome to Dianetti Development. My name is Ellen. How may I help you?”
“I’m here to see Mr. Dianetti.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
Jac nodded and gave her name. Her eyes canvassed the room while the receptionist verified her meeting. With museum quality paintings, crystal chandeliers and tropical foliage, the reception area oozed class and elegance. Obviously Matt was successful.
“Ms. Sera?”
Jac swiveled around. “Yes?”
“Mr. Dianetti’s secretary will be here shortly to escort you to his office.” The receptionist tapped a pen on her desk in tune to some rhythm in her head. She must have noticed Jac staring at a painting depicting a field carpeted with wildflowers created by local artist T.C. Steele. “Isn’t that the most delightful picture?” Ellen gushed.
“It is,” Jac agreed.
“Are you a new client? I mean, I guess you could be an old client. I’ve only been here a few weeks. I love working here. Mr. Dianetti is so nice. And isn’t he the cutest?”
Jac stared amusedly at the receptionist, wondering what question to answer first. The woman shifted her gaze to her desk and fingered a scar running along the side of her face. Jac felt immediately contrite, hoping the woman didn’t think she’d been staring at her disfigurement. Thankfully, Matt’s secretary, a dark-haired woman with assessing brown eyes and a fashionable suit, saved her. “Ms. Sera?” At Jac’s nod, she extended her hand. “I’m Ms. Jones, Mr. Dianetti’s secretary. Please follow me. Mr. Dianetti is expecting you.”
“See you later,” the receptionist called out cheerfully.
Jac smiled at the friendly woman and followed Ms. Jones down a rosewood-paneled corridor. They stopped in front of gold elevator doors and a manicured nail tapped the button. Ms. Jones faced Jac and smiled tightly. When the doors slid open, she gestured for Jac to precede her inside. Jac watched the old fashioned arrow move from the first floor and felt the woman’s probing gaze. She eyed the woman and smiled politely. She seemed familiar somehow but Jac couldn’t place her.
“Have we met? Are you from around here?”
The woman’s brown bob swung as she informed, “I’m from up north.” She stepped out, not offering additional information. A great conversationalist she wasn’t. Matt’s secretary was the polar opposite of his receptionist.
Jac waited while Ms. Jones knocked on a large mahogany door and cracked it open when a voice inside instructed her to do so.
“You may go in now, Ms. Sera,” the woman said in a syrupy sweet voice complete with dazzling smile. Jac smirked. She was putting on a show for Matt’s benefit.
“Thank you.” Jac stepped through the doorway and vowed to act normal. Under her breath she ordered herself to calm down and inhale.
“Did you say something, Jac?” Matt rounded his desk. A devastating grin spread across his face, rendering her speechless. Without breaking eye contact, he instructed Ms. Jones to leave.
Jac didn’t even hear the door close. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his handsome face. Small lines fanned from the corner of sparkling cobalt eyes, made extra vibrant by the royal blue oxford he wore. Skin pulled taut over elegant cheekbones and his sturdy, square jaw framed a face that was nothing short of spectacular. Dark hair cut short to tame the curl gleamed from the overhead lights. Jac forgot her vow and she forgot how to breathe.
Her only saving grace was that he looked equally mesmerized. His grin slowly faded and heat infused his eyes. His breathing quickened and his nostrils flared. Slowly and seductively his gaze slid down her body and her pulse pounded in her ears. She closed her eyes briefly to regain her composure and when she opened them, she found his eyes darkened with desire, boring into hers. Her stomach lurched in response and for one terrifying heartbeat she feared she would pass out.
Matt’s expression stilled and grew concerned. That was enough to snap Jac from her trance. Good Lord, he was going to think she was a certified basket case.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Dianetti…Matt.” Her hand shook as she pushed hair behind her ear.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Sera…Jac,” he mimicked. “I’m glad you could come.” He motioned with his arm. “Why don’t we have a seat and discuss the…predicament.” She turned toward the expansive conference room table and jumped when his hand touched the small of her back. Heat burned through her blouse, searing her. Why did this man affect her so strongly?
Matt drew out a maroon leather chair and she murmured her thanks as she lowered herself to the seat. She prayed he would walk around the table and sit across from her, allowing her to concentrate. Instead, he plopped into the chair next to hers. Darn. How could she focus with him this close? She
could smell his clean, woodsy aftershave and her body swayed in an attempt to get closer. Jac gulped and unconsciously her tongue darted out to moisten her suddenly parched lips.
A strangled cough had her eyes flying to Matt’s. He was watching her ogle him, his expression filled with hunger. She stiffened, momentarily abashed.
“Would you do me a favor?” She pulled her gaze from his face.
“You bet,” he murmured huskily.
“Shoot me, please. End my misery.”
Deep, rich laughter floated up from his throat and the sound was intoxicating. Jac couldn’t help but smile back. It served to crack her incompetent shell. “I’m usually not a complete moron. I am capable…except when I’m around you.”
Matt scooted closer, his knee brushed hers. He didn’t move away. Clasping her hand, he stroked his thumb over her knuckles. “If it makes you feel better, Ms. Sera, you muddle my thoughts as well.”
“You don’t show it.” She watched his long, broad thumb caress her hand. His skin was shades darker, making hers look creamy and white. “I-I can’t think when you do that.”
One corner of his mouth tipped up in a smile. “Got it. Business.” With one last stroke he removed his hand and busied himself with a file. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve asked my friend to join us, the one I told you about last night. His name is Luke Colton and he’s a childhood friend and former detective with the Bloomington Police Department. I haven’t given him all the details. I thought we could do it together.” An uncomfortable pause. “You do realize we have to tell him about the lists.”
She nodded. “Yes, I. . .oh!” The full impact of his sentence hit her like a dump truck full of cement and she jammed her spine against the chair—hard. The chair tipped on two legs and if Matt’s hands hadn’t whipped out to steady her, she’d have been sprawled on the floor with her skirt around her head and her new red lace thong on display.
“Whoa.”
“C-can’t we just tell him the lists are of men my friends and I admired? It would be our secret.”
Matt reached into the folder and withdrew Jac’s original paper, holding it between his middle and forefinger. Once again, her flowery teenage script jumped out to bite her on the ass.
“Damn,” she uttered under her breath. How could she have forgotten? No mistaking the message: “The Official Laminated List of Men Jac Wants to Attack in the Sack.”
A sharp rap sounded on the door.
“Come in Ms. Jones.”
The secretary stuck her head in the opening and announced, “I’m sorry to interrupt, Mr. Dianetti. A Mr. Colton is here to see you. Should I tell him you are…occupied?”
“No, please send him in and then follow up to make sure lunch will be delivered shortly.”
The door drifted shut as the woman departed to fetch the other guest. “My regular secretary is on maternity leave,” Matt explained. “Ms. Jones is a temp.”
The door swung open revealing a ruggedly handsome dark haired man only about an inch shorter than Matt’s six five. Matt rose to greet his guest, a friendly grin curving his lips as he clutched the other man’s hand in greeting. Jac studied the two men while they chatted and laughed together. Each boasted broad shoulders that tapered to lean waists. Luke Colton appeared to be as thickly muscled and physically fit as Matt.
“Jac,” Matt said, “this is Luke Colton. Luke, Jacqueline Sera. Jac for short.” They exchanged handshakes and greetings and she flushed under Luke’s boldly admiring stare. Her eyes flitted to Matt and she noticed his dark brows slant in a frown. He put his hand on her shoulder. Marking his territory?
“Luke is a partner in the security firm Cobra. Why don’t we eat lunch first and then we can discuss the reason Jac and I asked you to join us, Luke?”
Another knock announced the caterer, who wheeled in a cart loaded with heavenly smelling food. “You didn’t need to go to this much trouble,” Jac protested as steaming appetizers and entrees appeared on the table. White wine was poured and the three dug into the food, laughing and talking. Luke delighted in telling Jac stories from their youth. She managed to include Luke in her gaze when all her eyes wanted to do was focus on Matt. She felt at ease and her vibrant personality shone through.
She had no idea how appealing she was to both men.
They finished lunch and Matt poured coffee while the caterer cleared the table. “I guess we should discuss the reason I asked you to meet with us.” He paused, met Jac’s eyes and turned to Luke. “Jac thinks I could be the target of a serial killer.”
Luke sputtered and almost dumped steaming coffee in his lap. He grabbed a napkin to wipe his mouth. “I don’t know what I was expecting you to say, but that wasn’t it.”
“I had pretty much the same reaction to the news,” Matt informed him amusedly.
Luke mopped the spilled liquid from the table and reached for his briefcase. He withdrew a notebook and extracted a pen from an inside jacket pocket. “Okay, start at the beginning and tell me everything.”
* * * *
By the time Jac finished recounting the entire saga, Luke Colton had enough information to concur with her findings. Clicking the pen closed, he tossed it on the notebook and scrubbed a hand down his face. Jac and Matt watched him expectantly, waiting to hear his conclusion.
“You’ve been able to positively verify that all fourteen men are deceased?”
Jac nodded and pushed a manila folder across the table. “Mostly through newspaper clippings and obituaries.”
Luke lifted the flap and sorted through the contents, pausing to read an article or two. When he finished, he closed the folder and rested his chin against steepled fingers.
“What do you think?” Jac chewed her bottom lip. “The police think I’m crazy—” her eyes flicked to Matt— “but I believe it’s too coincidental all the other men are dead.”
Luke studied her before he responded. She was exceptionally lovely, a sun-streaked mist of blonde hair framing a heart shaped face. And those eyes that looked a different color each time he looked at her. He could see why his buddy was enamored. Oh, Matt would never admit it—he knew him well—but he couldn’t hide his feelings for the stunning woman. Nor could she hide hers. She blushed prettily and averted her eyes when telling the story behind the lists. Luke had to bite the inside of his cheek when he read the title she’d scribbled on the paper but, man he envied his buddy making it on this woman’s list.
“I don’t believe in coincidence.” He shifted his gaze from Matt to Jac “Not in my business.”
Jac gasped and curled her hand around Matt’s. Luke covered a grin with his coffee cup as Matt threaded their fingers together. He wondered if either person realized what they’d just done.
“What about the other two girls who constructed the lists with you? Have you discussed this with them?”
Pain flickered in her eyes as she slowly moved her head from side to side. “Tash died a few years ago in a car accident and I have no idea what happened to Nicole.”
He shared a knowing look with Matt, and Jac’s eyes widened. “You think they could be victims too, don’t you?” Her voice was a panicked whisper.
He purged a deep breath. “I think it is possible, yes,” he answered truthfully. “And if that’s the case, it would make you a potential target as well.”
Screech.
Luke managed not to react as Matt’s chair scraped across the floor and he gathered Jac close. It was hard, though, and his mouth twitched involuntarily. He had to admit they made a striking couple.
Jac shook her head decisively. “Nicole isn’t dead. She’s mailed me a card the past five years commemorating the night we made the lists.” Her face twisted in aggravation. “But she never sends a return address and the postmark is always from a different city. Her parents died a few years ago and I tried tracking her down but she wasn’t listed in any of the white pages from those cities. It’s as if she just vanished into thin air.”
Luke dug through Jac’s file until
he came across the paper where she documented each victim’s statistics. He studied it briefly and then shoved the sheet across the table. “Beside each name, can you write on whose list the man appeared?”
Jac nodded and accepted the paper. She scribbled rapidly and thrust it back to Luke. He ripped a blank sheet from a notebook and began sorting the names by date of death. Once he finished, he pulled out the girls’ original lists and compared them to the one he just made.
“Just as I thought,” he mused.
“What?” Matt asked.
Luke tapped his fingers on the table. “Each man died in the order his name appeared on the list. Natasha’s men were targeted first: number one was killed, then two, three, etcetera. Nicole’s came next and her one through five went down. He’s already eliminated one through four on Jac’s.”
He looked up from his paper to Jac. “When did you lose contact with Nicole?”
“Pretty much the night we made those lists. I remember her being mad at me for trying to be nice to her hated stepsister. I thought she was unreasonable, probably told her, but I don’t remember. I do recall being completely fed up with her attitude, her censure. We argued, I went back to my parent’s house and then returned to school the next day. I was so busy with swim meets and studies and I know it sounds bad, but I moved on from our friendship.”
“When did Natasha pass away?” Luke asked.
“Almost two years ago.” Jac’s voice was sad with remembrance.
“Do you recall the exact date?”
“I do because I got Nicole’s card on the same day. She died on October twenty-ninth.”
Luke’s lips flattened into a thin line and his frown deepened. “She died on the anniversary you made the lists after everyone on hers had been killed.”
Jac struggled to catch her breath. “I never realized…”
The List Page 7