Borderline

by Chase, T. A.

  * * * *

  “Mac, why didn’t you save me?”

  Marissa’s sparkling eyes slowly went blank and dark as blood cascaded down over her skin, bathing her in dark ruby liquid. He knelt beside her, trying to stop the flood of her life out onto the floor.

  “I’m sorry, Marissa. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know he’d come after you.”

  He watched in horror as her flesh disintegrated, leaving a leering skeleton. His stomach turned as maggots and worms crawled from her mouth. A ringing noise entered the room he crouched in, and he glanced around…

  * * * *

  The nightmare faded away as he swam toward consciousness. The guilt he felt at Marissa’s accusing stare lingered, even as he sat up in his bed and reached for the phone next to it.

  “Guzman.”

  “Get in here. We identified the last vic.” Sorensterm sounded chipper, and Mac hated him for that.

  “When?” Mac dragged his ass out of bed and stumbled to his dresser, where he found a pair of clean briefs and socks.

  “About five minutes ago. Her fingerprints were on file because she worked in the county clerk’s office for year or two.”

  That was the job Marissa had held before she started working at one of the nightclubs. She wanted something with more excitement than filing permits all day. Mac had teased her about being a gypsy, never settling down. She’d laughed and told him she had the rest of her life to settle, but while she was young, she wanted to live. He swiped the tears from his eyes.

  “Good. Send me the information on the parents. I’ll go give them the news.”

  “Sure you don’t want me or your FBI guy to go with you?”

  Mac shook his head before realizing Sorensterm couldn’t see him. “Nah. No point in ruining everyone’s day. I hate informing the family, but it needs to be done.”

  “Better you than me, Mac. I can’t take the crying.” Clicking sounded. “I’m e-mailing you the address and name right now. I’ll tell Cap where you are.”

  “Let him know I’ll be back in as soon as I’m done.”

  “Will do.” Sorensterm hung up.

  Mac snapped his phone shut and resisted the urge to chuck it against the wall. He dropped to sit on the edge of the bed, dangling his socks and underwear between his legs as he stared at the floor. Christ! It just wasn’t fair that Marissa’s life had been cut short. She was a good person and definitely hadn’t deserved to die like that.

  He took a shower and got dressed, taking special care to look nice. He even wore a suit because Marissa’s parents had been good to him while he stayed with them and he needed to show them some respect. As he drove to the address Sorensterm had sent him, he kept his mind blank. He never rehearsed what he was going to say to the families. Each circumstance was different because each family reacted differently to death. Of course he’d never had to tell someone he knew that his or her daughter was dead.

  Mac parked his car in the driveway and sat, staring at the modest ranch-style home. It had been sixteen years since he’d seen the Levistons. He and Marissa might have reconnected, but he hadn’t been ready to see her parents. Not that he was ready now.

  “What a shitty way to come back into each other’s life,” he muttered.

  Straightening his shoulders, he turned off the car and climbed out. He settled his suit coat over his gun. Before he took a step, his phone rang. Relief coursed through him at putting the conversation off even for a minute.

  “Guzman.”

  “Mac, it’s Tanner Wallace. I wondered if you would be able to meet with me. I’d like to go over some things about the case.”

  His first reaction was to scream “fuck no,” but it was his emotions saying that, not his professionalism. A deep mental sigh calmed him, as did the promise of a bottle of tequila when he finally made it home.

  “Sure. Where do you want to meet?”

  “Why don’t you come to my place for dinner? That way we’ll both get food, and I can have a beer.”

  Not a good idea. Mac’s rational brain shouted, but his cock thought being someplace private with Tanner sounded great.

  “Sure.”

  He’d always been a glutton for punishment.

  “Great. Anything you don’t like or are allergic to?”

  Mac snorted softly. Growing up a foster kid, he’d learned to never complain about what he ate. That way often led to not getting food at all.

  “I’ll eat pretty much anything.”

  Tanner’s chuckle socked Mac low in the gut.

  “My kind of man,” Tanner joked.

  I wish. Again, so not appropriate, but Mac needed something to take his mind off the grim task before him. The front door of the Leviston’s house opened, and Mac swore.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I have to notify the latest victim’s family,” he explained, “and I’m standing in their driveway now.”

  “That’s sucks, man, especially since you know her and everything.”

  He gritted his teeth for a second before saying, “What makes you think I know them?”

  “I saw how you reacted at the crime scene and afterward at your apartment. I’m making an educated guess.”

  “Mind your own damn business, Wallace,” Mac snarled as he snapped his phone shut on the man. “Shit. Great way to make Tanner drop the subject, asshole.” He shook his head.

  He looked up to see Marissa’s mother and father standing on the front porch, their eyes fixed on him. Even from that distance, he could see Mrs. Leviston had been crying. Mac threw his shoulders back and headed up the walk.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Leviston, I’m Detective Mac Guzman with the rangers.” He held out his badge for Marissa’s father to check out.

  “Mac?” Mrs. Leviston let go of her husband and threw herself into Mac’s arms. “Marissa said she had found you and you had dinner once or twice.”

  He stood helplessly while she hugged him, unsure how to handle it all. “Ummm…yes. We did. Marissa’s the reason why I’m here.”

  “Come on, honey. Let go of Mac, and we can go inside.” Mr. Leviston met Mac’s gaze over his wife’s head, and the pain in the man’s eyes informed Mac Marissa’s father knew the truth.

  “Oh, right. Have you heard from Marissa? We haven’t heard from her in four days. That isn’t like her. Usually she calls me once a day.”

  Mac allowed her to babble as he followed the couple into their house. It was neat but looked lived-in, unlike Mac’s apartment, which was almost as empty as it had been when he moved in.

  “Please, sit. Can I get you something to drink?” Mrs. Leviston hovered, and Mac shook his head.

  “I think you and Mr. Leviston need to sit, ma’am.”

  The serious tone of his voice froze her, and she wrung her hands while suddenly avoiding his gaze. Mr. Leviston took her arm and tugged gently, encouraging her to sit next to him on the couch. Mac took the chair across from them. He cleared his throat and debated how to start.

  “Marissa’s dead, isn’t she, Mac?” Mr. Leviston’s low voice cut through Mac’s chest, piercing his heart with sorrow.

  He nodded. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

  Mrs. Leviston screamed in agony and crumpled in her husband’s arms. He held her close, pressing her face into his chest while tears fell from his eyes. Mac stood and moved to the window, unable to block out the hearts breaking behind him. He rubbed his face and wished for the first time that he wasn’t a cop. Informing families was difficult at the best of times, but he’d never hurt as badly as he did with this one.

  Whispers behind him brought him around to see Mr. Leviston practically carrying his wife out of the room.

  “Let me go get Jane settled and make a phone call. Can you wait until I get back? I want to hear the rest.”

  “I’m not sure you do, sir,” Mac confessed.

  “Marissa was my daughter, Mac. I wanted to be a part of all aspects of her life, and that means her death as well.”

  Mac dipped his head, honoring Mr
. Leviston’s right to know everything about his daughter’s death, except there were things Mac couldn’t tell him. Law enforcement would keep undisclosed clues back to stop copycat killers from using them to their advantage.

  His phone beeped as Mr. Leviston led his wife down the hall to the back of the house. Mac assumed they were going to the bedroom. He pulled his phone out and saw he had a text.

  U ok?

  It came from Tanner’s phone, and the knowledge that the FBI agent cared enough to check on him warmed Mac in a way nothing had in a long time.

  Rather get shot than B here.

  Don’t blame U. Have beer cold when U get here.

  Mac’s hands trembled slightly, and he knew he needed something stronger than beer. Make it tequila.

  A minute went by before Tanner returned his text. After the day you’ve had so far, tequila it is. C U later.

  K. Thx.

  He slipped his phone into his pocket and returned to staring out the window. The neighborhood was quiet and middle-class. The kind of place a girl like Marissa grew up. Marissa wasn’t the girl who got murdered by a serial killer. She was a nice girl. Sure, she got drunk once in a while and got a little loud at times, but her behavior wasn’t usually risky.

  How did the bastard pick his victims? It was one thing they couldn’t figure out. There didn’t seem to be any sort of connection between them. Did the killer wander all over Houston and randomly pick his next victim? His MO during the actual murder stayed the same. All the stuff leading up to it seemed to change with each kill.

  Mac hoped Tanner figured out something new from the scene photos. They needed more clues to work from, because if they didn’t have them, there would be a sixth victim within the next three weeks. He didn’t think he could deal with another one, not after seeing Marissa like that.

  A soft cough behind him got his attention, and he swung around. Mr. Leviston sat on the couch, hands clasped together and eyes red from his tears.

  “Please tell me what happened to my daughter, Mac.”

  Taking a deep breath, Mac drew his courage and strength close. He needed all of it to get through the upcoming conversation. He returned to his seat and perched on the edge, resting his elbows on his knees.

  “There are some things I can’t discuss with you, Mr. Leviston. In the ongoing investigation, it’s vital certain things don’t get out to the public.”

  Mr. Leviston nodded. “I understand. Was Marissa a victim of that serial killer the press has been talking about the last couple of months?”

  “We can’t be a hundred percent sure until all the results are in, but we believe so. She was found yesterday, and her fingerprints came up in the computer. That’s how we knew who she was so soon.” Mac stiffened his backbone and met Mr. Leviston’s devastated gaze. “I’ll find who did this to Marissa, and I’ll put him in jail.”

  “No dark promises to kill him?”

  Mac shook his head. “It might make us all feel better if he was to die, but it won’t really be justice. I don’t believe in ‘an eye for an eye.’ All that does is lead to more sorrow. Let us handle this, and I promise we will find him.”

  Marissa’s father looked at him with eyes the same color as Marissa’s. “I believe you, Mac, and thank you for coming to tell us personally. I know this isn’t the most enjoyable part of the job.”

  Mac snorted. “At times there are no parts of this job I enjoy.”

  “When can we get the body released to us? We need to start planning the funeral.”

  After standing, Mac reached for the inside pocket of his coat. “Here’s my card. Call me if you have any questions, and I’ll let you know as soon as possible about when you can get the body.”

  Mr. Leviston stood as well and, after setting the card on the coffee table, held out his hand to Mac. “As strange as this may sound, Mac, I’m glad you’re the one on the case. We might not have had anything to do with each other for years, but I still feel like I know you. You’ll keep your promise, and we’ll get justice for Marissa.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  They shook hands, and Mac felt like he’d just sealed a vow with the handshake. They went to the front door, and before Mac left, Mr. Leviston rested his hand on Mac’s shoulder.

  “Mac, I wished we had taken you with us all those years. It hurt all of us to leave you behind.” The older man shook his head.

  Mac shrugged. “I understood why you did it, and it all worked out in the end. It was rough going, but I found a family.”

  Of sorts. José Guzman wasn’t the perfect father, but the elderly man had done his best to keep Mac from running the streets and getting into any more trouble. He gave Mac a last name that meant something instead of one he hated with every atom in his body.

  “I’m glad you and Marissa had a chance to find each other again. She often wondered what you were doing. You were the older brother she never had.”

  Mr. Leviston choked back a sob, and Mac knew it was time to leave. Grief started to take Marissa’s father over. Mac didn’t need to be there when the man broke down.

  “I’ll call as soon as they release her body.”

  “Thank you again.” Mr. Leviston shut the door behind Mac.

  Trudging to his car, Mac thought about getting a different job. Maybe he could be a security guard at a mall or something like that. A job that didn’t involve telling people their loved ones were victims of a violent crime. He shook his head and slid behind the wheel of his car. He started the vehicle and pulled out of the driveway, going back to his office.

  Chapter Three

  Tanner rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans and glanced around his dining room. Nice dishes, not his fancy stuff, and good silverware. No candles or any other romantic object to make it look like he was trying to seduce the ranger, even though he’d wanted Mac since the moment he saw him.

  Normally Tanner was good about not mixing business with pleasure. He’d met a lot of handsome men while doing his job, but Mac Guzman got under his skin in a way none of the others had.

  With a small smile, Tanner laughed warily. He needed to be careful because, like he had told Mac, he had his own secrets. It was one that could change his entire life if anyone ever found out about it. His secrets were one of the reasons he didn’t have many close friends. It was easier to keep people at arm’s length than let them in and risk losing everything.

  He wandered into the living room and dropped onto the couch. He wouldn’t look at his watch again. Mac wasn’t late or anything. Tanner was ready early and nervous about having the man over. All he really wanted to do was drag Mac to his bed and spend the rest of the night learning every inch of Mac’s spectacular body. He wanted to lick and suck until Mac begged Tanner to fuck him.

  Leaning his head back on the cushions, Tanner grinned up at the ceiling. Was Mac exclusively a top, or would he let Tanner fuck him? As much as Tanner liked to be the one doing the fucking once in a while, he’d be willing to give up his ass as often as needed to get Mac in his bed with him. And didn’t that make him a complete slut?

  His doorbell rang, and he sprang to his feet, nerves crashing through him again. Shit. He was an adult, and it wasn’t really a date. He did want to talk to Mac about the case. He’d noticed a few things that might help ensure they got the right guy when they found a suspect.

  Another ring from the bell got him moving, and he went to the front door. Caution had him checking the peephole before he opened it. Mac stood about three feet back and to the side of the door, like most good law enforcement officers. If greeted by a gun, in that position they were less likely to get hit with the first bullet.

  “Thanks for coming over,” Tanner said as he opened the door.

  Mac stepped inside and took off his cowboy hat. “I’ll admit it was the lure of good tequila and food that brought me here.”

  Why did a shock of disappointment run through Tanner at Mac’s words? Just because the man had kissed him last night like he wanted Tanner spread-eagle and beggi
ng on his bed didn’t mean Mac was truly interested in him. It could have been the alcohol, and Tanner’d had enough alcohol-clouded one-night stands in his life.

  “You can hang your hat there.” He gestured to the coat tree in the corner of the foyer before strolling back toward the kitchen. “I made enchiladas. Is that okay?”

  “Fuck.”

  The curse was the only warning he got. A strong hand gripped his arm and whirled him around. He stumbled into Mac’s embrace, lifting his gaze to stare at the man. Mac dipped his head and took Tanner’s mouth like an invading army storming a beachhead. Tanner didn’t have the mental capacity at the moment to do anything except lift his arms and wrap them around Mac’s shoulders.

  Their tongues stroked and teased. Mac tasted minty and smelled wonderfully clean, so he must have stopped by his place to shower and change. Tanner appreciated it, and a little bit of hope blossomed inside him. Not just because of the kiss. If Mac had changed and cleaned up, that could mean he considered this more than just a working meeting. Of course having his tongue halfway down Tanner’s throat might be a more obvious sign.

  The oven timer dinged, and they broke apart. Tanner fought the urge to press his fingers to his tingling lips. Holy hell, that had to have been the hottest kiss he’d ever engaged in. His erection ached, and he wished he’d worn sweats or a pair of loose pants, because he could feel the zipper bite into his hard flesh.

  “Well, I don’t think I’ve ever been greeted quite as enthusiastically,” he teased.

  “Sorry.” Mac actually blushed. “All I could think about today was kissing you. It helped after the crappy start to my morning.”

  Tanner reached out to rub his thumb over Mac’s cheek. “I’m not complaining, Mac. I kept trying to tell myself this was just a working dinner. Didn’t quite convince myself because I keep hoping we’ll end up naked at some point.”

  Mac swallowed and nodded. “I’ll admit to doing some hoping of my own.”