Deadly Obsession

by Jaycee Clark

  No wallet, though a cell phone rested on the dresser along with car keys. Smart man, those two were easily traceable. Credit cards were scattered along the mahogany top. Ian picked them up and flipped through them.

  Ditch the car, the phone, the credit cards. All traceable. That left cash.

  Did our esteemed congressman have a passport? Not under Burbanks, the man wasn’t stupid.

  Ian was rather impressed. Most people who ran, just panicked and ran, no clear thinking.

  This was not so with his current prey.

  At least the hunting would be more interesting.

  He heard car doors shut.

  Sliding to the window, he stood to the edge of it and looked out.

  The sharp Lieutenant Morris.

  Time to go.

  Besides, he’d found out what he’d come for. Now it was time to hunt.

  * * * *

  "He’s not here," Gabe said. He could feel it. They’d waited too damn long. He’d known that.

  "He might be, but I think you’re probably right," Emma agreed.

  Yeah, well, lot of good agreeing with him did. Gabe wanted this bastard, wanted him badly.

  "If he’s not here, he won’t get far."

  Several cruisers pulled up, the uniforms getting out.

  "Surround the house," Gabe said, motioning to half of them. "I don’t want anyone coming in or going out."

  He removed the legal documents that were sure to make this elected government official’s life a living hell. Gabe smiled. "The rest of you come with me."

  At the door, he knocked.

  And waited.

  He knocked again.

  A short woman answered the door.

  "Yes?"

  "Are you Ms. Burbanks?"

  "No, she’s still asleep I believe. Can I help you?"

  "Mr. Burbanks?"

  She shrugged.

  "You might want to wake them. We have a warrant to search the house and premises, and to arrest Mr.

  Burbanks."

  As they filed into the house, he handed the papers off to the woman, whoever she was, and started barking orders as he took the stairs two at a time.

  At the top, he drew his gun, Emma right behind him.

  One door swung open, and both he and his partner whirled.

  The woman, dressed in a robe, screamed and kept screaming.

  "Ma’am? Ma’am? We’re the police."

  While Emma tried to explain the situation and calm the high-strung woman, he went to the next door, easing it open with his foot.

  The room was empty. He quickly checked the bathroom. A quick scan of the room showed him the discarded credit cards, cell phone and keys. But no wallet.

  "Where’s your husband?"

  "What is this all about?" Mrs. Burbanks asked. She was a pretty woman, with brown shoulder length hair, fairy-like features and blue eyes.

  Marry the mother to get the daughter. It was just sick.

  Looking at her, Gabe wondered just how much this woman had known what was going on. Did she know that her husband had abused and raped her only child, that he was still tormenting Christian? And if she had, had she cared? Though the beauty was there for all to see, there was a stillness, an icy control that told him this woman had been a match for her mate.

  It was the eyes. Her eyes were empty. No, there was rage in them, but he didn’t think it was at him. She wasn’t yelling, or cursing, or throwing a fit. She simply stood there with one hand grasping the edge of her robe together.

  "Do you mind if I get dressed? I will be down shortly." With that, the woman turned and walked toward her door.

  "Lieutenant Laurence will be waiting right outside the door for you."

  She stopped and turned to him. "My husband will have both your jobs. Do you have any idea who he is?"

  Gabe rolled his head on his neck. "Not a very nice man?"

  "Richard Burbanks is a United States congressman! I’m calling our lawyer."

  Gabe nodded at her chink in that icy veneer. "You do that ma’am."

  He hurried downstairs to see how the search was going. He wondered if there was a secret room here.

  A quick look at his watch told him he probably should call the Kinncaids. Or at least Christian.

  The hotel said the Kinncaids were not in residence.

  Flipping his phone shut, he realized they must be on their way home, or already there.

  It was a mile down the road. Time to update and get back here. Burbanks wasn’t here, the boys outside hadn’t seen him. No one inside had seen him.

  Ms. Potts, the woman who answered the door, did remember an early morning phone call from a sergeant with the Portland police, but for the life of her, she couldn’t remember the man’s name.

  Didn’t matter, Gabe would find and nail the dirty cop to the wall. Portland or not, he didn’t care where the man was, he’d tipped off a criminal.

  At the bottom of the stairs, he hollered up to Emma.

  They met halfway on the staircase. "Is she ready yet?"

  Emma shook her head. "No, I don’t think she’s going to come out, actually. I heard her talking on the phone, yelling on the phone and our sweet politician’s wife knows some interesting curse words."

  "Can you handle things here?" he asked.

  Her look told him she wasn’t even going to bother answering that one.

  "Sorry," he said. "I’m going to run over to the Kinncaids’ place and give them a heads up. Especially, since we’re missing a suspect."

  "Did you put out an APB?"

  He gave her the same look she’d given him.

  "It doesn’t feel good to be treated like you’re stupid, does it?"

  Gabe rolled his eyes. "It’s not a stupid thing."

  "Yes it is."

  "I don’t have time for this." He hurried down the stairs. "I’ll be back in a bit."

  Her chuckle answered him. As he was walking out the door, he heard her yell, "Carter! For God sake, this is a search, not a damn tea party."

  Yeah, Emma could handle it, he had some news to break to another woman, and he wasn’t looking forward to it.

  * * * *

  Christian hugged Tori to her and said, "I missed you, too."

  "How come everyone else gets to know everything that’s always going on, and no one ever tells me anything?"

  She wasn’t sure how to answer that one.

  "Because, you don’t need to know everything, squirt," Brayden told his daughter as they sat down to eat.

  It was almost nine and they’d gotten home about half an hour ago, a round of congratulations went round as soon as it was known they were engaged.

  Quinlan had stayed at the hotel, and would be here for the party tonight. Aiden and Jesslyn were at their home, several miles down the road, where Brayden had stopped and picked up his daughter. Gavin, Taylor, and Ryan would be here a few minutes late. Gavin had some appearance to make at another party before coming here.

  So it was rather a quiet breakfast with only Jock, Kaitlyn, Tori, Brayden and herself.

  "It’s not fair," Tori whined.

  "That’s enough, Victoria. Drop it," Brayden said, flipping his napkin out before putting it in his lap.

  People were already all over the house. The caterers had arrived a few minutes before the family, the florist were carrying in arrangements. The whole thing was the normal chaos of having a lavish party.

  But the family was ensconced in the breakfast room, with only the occasional interruption.

  "Will any of you be needing anything else, then?" Becky, the long time housekeeper, asked, her voice lilting with Ireland.

  A round of no’s and thank you’s answered her. At the French doors, she stopped.

  "Almost forgot. This old age is for the birds. Mr. K., your new friend stopped by bright and early this morning. Said he needed to leave you a message in your study. He was heading out of town." She nodded and patted down her graying hair.

  Christian carefully set down her g
lass.

  "I swear Becky, I don’t know why I let you stay with us all these years. Could you be a bit more specific? What friend? What the blazes was he doing here?" Jock leaned back in his chair.

  Becky waved absently. "That pompous senator, or whoever."

  "Dickie?" Jock barked.

  "Are they talking about who I think they are?" Brayden asked her.

  Becky tsked.

  Christian’s mind flew. What had he been doing here? Laying another trap? He’d said he didn’t want to kill her. But what if he lied? What if he delivered some gift that would explode like yesterday?

  Voices faded and swirled around her.

  "Christian?" Brayden shook her arm. "Honey, calm down. It’ll be okay."

  "Well, I don’t care who he is," Kaitlyn was saying. "I don’t like him and I don’t like that he was in our home with us not here."

  "Now, Kaitie," Jock tried. "There’s nothing wrong with Dickie."

  Something shifted deep within Brayden’s eyes even as the skin tightened over his features. Without looking away from her, he said to his father, "Oh yes, Dad, there is."

  "What the hell is wrong with him? You know him? He and his wife bought the Coonley place about a month ago, while you two were away anyway. Nice man, comes from Oregon, Washington? I forget."

  Christian licked her lips.

  "Sonofabitch," Brayden muttered. "Oregon, Dad. The bastard’s from Oregon." His fingers tightened on her arm, then loosened. The doorbell chimed.

  "I’ll just be seeing who that is," Becky said, as she hurried out the room.

  "Victoria, go play in the music room," Brayden said.

  Christian opened her eyes and looked at him.

  "But, Daddy, I haven’t even eaten yet."

  "I don’t care. Go."

  She shook her head. "No, Tori, wait until Becky gets back and then stay with her. Go eat in the kitchen.

  Don’t ever be by yourself. Do you understand me?"

  The little girl nodded, looking from one of them to the other.

  "What the hell’s going on?" Jock asked.

  "Later, Dad," Brayden said, "Tori, do what your mother says."

  Tori huffed as she slid out of her seat. "I will, even if she isn’t my mother yet. Not that it’s my fault.

  You’re the one that’s just now getting around to asking her."

  Smart girl that she was, she quickly left the room, stopping at the door, and grinning back at them. The little twit.

  Becky stepped up and said, "There’s a policeman here to see you. That same cute copper that was here before."

  "Miss Becky," Tori said, pulling on the older woman’s sleeve. "I’m supposed to go with you and not be out of your sight. I have to eat in the kitchen cause Daddy’s mad at, as he said, my mother. Though I don’t know why, it’s more of that adult stuff they won’t let me listen to. Though I told him she’s not my mother yet. Course that’s not my fault, now is it?" Tori chattered as Becky led her away.

  Gabe stood in the doorway, his coat rumpled as if he’d slept in it, and she knew just by the hard look on his face.

  "We need to talk," he said to her.

  She started to rise, but Brayden held her hand, squeezing tighter and tighter until she turned to look at him.

  The look in his cobalt eyes showed her the mix of emotions swirling in him.

  Turning back to Gabe, she said, "You might as well just sit down and spit it out."

  As Gabe did take a seat, Brayden said, "Did you arrest the congressman yet?"

  "What the hell is going on?" Jock asked.

  Brayden turned to her, and waited. He didn’t say a word, but then, he didn’t have to.

  Christian cleared her throat. The orange juice she’d drank earlier burned a hole in her stomach. Taking a deep breath, she looked to Kaitlyn and gave a brief run down of the story she’d told the cops last night.

  Jock and Kaitlyn both had questions once they got past the initial shock.

  The hand holding hers was gentle now, Brayden’s fingers softly rubbing the back of her hand. He was trying so hard to get past his own anger to be there for her.

  "It’s over. It’s over," he whispered to her.

  Christian nodded and looked at him, saying softly, "It will be."

  Morris leaned back in the chair he’d sat in. He too answered questions.

  Brayden looked at the woman beside him and was so damn proud of her. He knew that his parents thought of Christian as their daughter, but right then, it hit him like a slap to the face.

  "I’m so sorry he hurt you," his mother said, wiping at her own tears. "Why did he come after you again?"

  He put his arm around Christian, as she answered, "He swore I was his, and I always would be." She shrugged. "He saw a picture of me a few months ago during the Ryan-Tori-Fisher incident."

  "And he found you again. Oh, my poor girl." His mother, who had walked around the table, cupped Christian’s face in her hands. "Why, why didn’t you tell us? We would have helped you."

  Christian nodded, and swallowed. "I know. But I know what he did to people who helped me."

  Jock’s muttered curse filled the air. "To think I let the bastard in my house, that I thought he was a friend."

  "I’m sorry," Christian said.

  His father, waved a finger at her with his eyes narrowed, "You, Chrissy, have nothing to apologize for, though from now on, try and remember that families help each other out. I should string the coward up by his balls."

  "I’ll help," Brayden said.

  His mother leaned over and kissed the top of Christian’s head. "Jock’s right. It doesn’t matter now, the whys or how comes. Now the important thing is stopping him. What about your mother, will she help us?"

  Christian’s mother was still an enigma to him.

  "Actually, if I can get a judge to go for it, we’re trying to get a warrant for her arrest too, but it’ll be your word against hers," Morris said.

  "What?" Jock asked.

  Christian sighed. "I told you, my family is not like yours. Did my mom know what was going on? At first, I thought no, and how could I tell her? What was I suppose to say, ‘Hi Mom. Did you know your husband comes to my room every night?’ When I finally did get the guts to tell her." She shook her head.

  "I thought she didn’t believe me, the things she said. He laid the groundwork well, so that if I ever did tell her, she wouldn’t believe me. But that morning I left, I found out differently. She knew, she just didn’t care."

  "Are you certain you didn’t misunderstand? I can’t imagine a mother not caring?" his own mother said.

  "You’re more my mother than she ever was. I spent more time with Papa or my grandparents growing up than I ever did around her. And the only reason I moved with them after the wedding was because of Richard. Yes, I’m certain she knew. That last morning, she came to my room, dressed for the country club. She was looking for a pair of earrings that she accused me of stealing."

  Her voice softened and trailed off. Brayden knew, but he knew his parents didn’t.

  "How does that make her know what was going on?" his father asked.

  Christian looked right at Jock and said, "I was still bloody and beaten from the night before, tied to my bed. I think it was kind of hard to miss."

  Her breath caught and held. Brayden pulled her close to him, kissed her temple.

  His mother just stood there, tears rolling down her face, her hand to her mouth. "How could she?

  How.... What kind of...."

  "Kaitie," his father said, holding his hand out. His mother took it and sat in Jock’s lap as he kissed her temple.

  No one said a single word. Finally, Christian looked to Gabe, and Brayden held her trembling hand. He hated this. Hated that she was having to go through it again.

  Brayden shook his head and studied Christian, not at all satisfied at what he saw. Every time he thought about everything, the rage in Brayden beat harder and faster. A bodhran drumming out the call of war.

&
nbsp; Brayden wanted quite simply to kill the man. And he would. If it were the last thing he ever did.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  "What are you doing here?" Brayden asked Morris without preamble.

  Morris cleared his throat. "We have a warrant out for the congressman’s arrest."

  Answered but not quite.

  "Again, what are you doing here?" Brayden asked.

  Morris pursed his lips and leaned up on his elbows, staring at Christian. "I don’t know why I doubted you on the police there in Portland."

  "Someone tipped him off," she guessed.

  Morris nodded. "Looks like. He’s not at the house. We’ve got an APB out on him."

  "Son of a bitch!" Brayden glared at the cop.

  "He was here earlier," Jock said. Then, ringing a silver bell furiously, he bellowed, "Becky!"

  She came puffing around the corner glaring at him. "One day, I will get you, Mr. K. I know where you sleep, I do."

  He waved her away. "What did the congressman want this morning?"

  Becky frowned. "Well, he knocked on the door almost at seven. I thought it was someone for the party here early, but it was him. There was no car, but then you know as well as I, Mr. K., that he usually walks over. Being in any case, he said he needed to leave you a message and a gift in your study. Had somewhere he was needing to go and wouldn’t be back for a good bit, he said. I asked him where he was off to, just making conversation as I led him down the hallway, but he was vague. Said, he was just needing a trip."

  "Did he mention where?" Morris asked her.

  She shook her head. "At the study door, he took a little box out of his coat pocket and said he’d leave it on Mr. K.’s desk. I told him if a thing was missing, I’d be knowing who to call and I knew where he lived." She waved her hand. "The phone was a ringing by then and I was on it in the entryway when he came back out, kinda waved to me and left." Becky shrugged. "That’s all there was to the whole thing.

  Why’re ye asking?"

  "You’re certain that was it?" Morris asked her.

  "I may look old, but I know what I know, thank you very much," the housekeeper huffed.