Feel the Heat

by Desiree Holt

  “And that would be the best-case scenario,” Troy said. “But I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

  “What I want to know,” Mark said, “is why you never mentioned the stalker before? People like that are far from harmless, and from his messages, he’s been doing this a long time.”

  She shrugged. “There used to be more than just him but I think they got tired of me and decided to focus on others. The police did put a trace on my line but he always used throwaway phones so they gave up. I’m sure he’ll get tired of it after a while too.”

  Dan picked up his tablet and tapped it, bringing up a list he scrolled through. The smile he gave Lauren was one she knew was meant to be reassuring. “When I heard from Troy this morning, I called our office in Maryland. Our super geek, Andy, runs what I think is the computer that rules the world.” He grinned. “He calls it the Dragonslayer, and he may be right. I asked him to find every story ever written about you and send it to me in a compressed file.”

  “He can do that? Won’t it take a lot of time?”

  Dan shook his head. “Not with the Dragonslayer.”

  “But what’s the point?” she wanted to know.

  “Just getting a feel for what’s out there and what kind of thing might trigger your stalker. Is it something specific that was written, or just the general fact of your gift? I also asked him to see if other healers have been getting threats too. If so, maybe there’s some kind of link. We can have Andy run a number of different probabilities. Narrow things down.” The look on his face was serious. “I know how you protect the privacy of your clients, Lauren, but I’m going to need a list of them too.”

  She frowned. “I never give out anyone’s name. People who use my…skills often don’t like to let others know about it. Psychic healing isn’t widely accepted, you know.”

  “Still, this guy has a tie to you someplace, either you as a healer or you specifically and we have to be able to narrow the list. I promise you, these people will never know anything about this. Unless, of course, it leads back to one of them.”

  “I can’t believe anyone connected to any of my calls would do this, but…if you say it’s necessary I’ll get the list together for you. Just treat it carefully, okay?”

  He smiled at her. “I promise you can trust us on this.”

  “In any event,” Mark said, “we need to do some things immediately. I called a company we use locally and they’ll be here in an hour. They’ll replace your existing security system with a really high-tech one. One that works on encrypted sound waves. And yes, it will be easy for you to use,” he added, anticipating her objection.

  Lauren raised her eyebrows. “They can do it that quickly? Usually there’s a waiting list.”

  Mark grinned at her. “Not for Phoenix. We call, they come. I’m also having them install hidden cameras at the four corners of your roof. We’ll put sensors around the perimeter of the property and everything will feed into a laptop we’ll set up, either in the den or the kitchen.”

  “We’ll show you how to use it,” Dan assured her. “What to do when you want to go out in the backyard and also when you enter and leave the house. There will even be a sensor for your garage door, so we’ll get you a new opener with the code programmed into it.”

  She squirmed in her chair, hating to ask the next question. “H-How much will all this cost?”

  “You let me worry about that,” Mark told her. “And don’t give me any trouble about it. Faith would have my head if we didn’t take every precaution here.”

  “They’re also bringing a different answering machine,” Dan added. “One that’s separate from the phone. Don’t use the landline for anything. Let the machine pick up all incoming calls.”

  “What about my web clients?” she asked. “I can’t just leave them hanging. And what if I get another call for my special…skills?”

  “Troy will pass along messages from people other than the stalker. Return those calls on your cell phone.” He looked at the other two men. “And we agree that for the moment it would be best if you don’t take any healing calls.”

  “But—”

  Troy covered one of her hands with his. “We don’t want you to do anything that will rile the media again before this has even had a chance to die down. And we certainly don’t want to spike the stalker.”

  Lauren chewed her bottom lip. “If someone really needs me, I don’t want to turn them down. If they need help, I want to provide it.” When Troy opened his mouth to say something she shook her head. “As good as you all are, I’m sure you can find some way to spirit me out of here and take me to wherever I have to go without stirring up a crowd. And you can make sure to keep a lid on things, right?”

  Reluctantly, they agreed.

  “But,” Mark said, “there’s a condition with all of this.”

  She frowned. “What kind of condition? What have you cooked up?”

  “You can’t stay here alone, even with the security we’re installing.”

  “Are you kidding me?” She stood with her fists planted on her hips. “You’ve got all these cameras set up inside and out and two monitors—one in my office and one in my bedroom. If anyone gets even close to the house, I can call 9-1-1 immediately. I’m used to being alone and you know it.”

  “Lauren.” Mark closed his hands over her fists and lifted them, unclenched her fingers. “I know that. Faith and I worry about that all the time. But I think this is a little more troublesome than usual. You’ve got more media. You’ve got nutjobs with signs, and your stalker has turned up again. This time his venom seems to be escalating. Either I put someone here, or you’re coming to stay with us.”

  “I can’t ask someone else to put themselves in the middle of this situation,” she protested.

  “No worries.” Mark grinned. “Troy will be staying here.”

  Hot and cold flashes surged through Lauren’s body and a little shiver skated along her spine. Troy staying here? With her? Just the two of them? She looked at him and although his face was carefully blank she couldn’t miss the heat darkening his eyes. Did the other two men sense the chemistry crackling between them? It seemed almost visible to her.

  Maybe I’m just imagining all this.

  Or maybe not?

  “Lauren?” Mark’s voice broke into her thoughts and a hand waved in front of her face. “You still with us?”

  She blinked. “I’m sorry. What?”

  “I said, Troy will be staying here. Is that going to be a problem?”

  “We’ll work it out,” Troy answered for her, then slid his gaze to her. “Your safety comes first, right, Lauren?” The heat was still there, and the look he gave her did nothing to subdue it. In fact, she was nearly mesmerized by it.

  “Oh.” She blinked again. “Yes. Of course. Thank you. I guess.”

  “Good.” Dan took a final swallow of his coffee and looked at his watch. “Has this guy ever contacted you anywhere but at home?”

  She shook her head. “I really don’t travel much for this. I try to refer those calls to people in their area.”

  “But you have gone out of state,” Mark persisted. “Faith has gone with you.”

  “Yes, although I’m sure it’s a real pain in the ass to her.”

  “Not at all. And she always says the change of scenery helps clear her head when she’s stuck on a plot.”

  Lauren had met Faith when she’d gone to a signing for one of Faith’s romantic thriller best sellers. They’d connected, gone for coffee and since had become very close friends.

  “All right.” Dan nodded. “That at least makes it a little easier. The security people should be here soon so let’s get ready for them.” He set his tablet down on the table and carried his mug to the sink. “And Lauren? Along with the people you did accept, I’d like you to make a list of everyone who ever contacted you that you didn’t or couldn’t help for one reason or another. Your stalker may be related to one of those people.”

  “There aren�
��t many people I’ve turned down,” she told him. “I always check out the patient carefully to make sure someone isn’t trying to scam me. You know, want me to, as they say, put on a show for them and their friends. If they are, those are the ones I turn away.”

  “What about a real case that you were unsuccessful with?” Mark asked. “Didn’t you tell Faith and me that there were two people you actually couldn’t help?”

  Lauren felt the tragedy of those two cases surge up inside her. “One of them was a young boy who was paralyzed. There was no way I could regenerate dead nerves. My power doesn’t work like that.”

  “What was the other one?”

  “That one was too bizarre. A girl had a leg amputated and her family somehow thought I could help her grow a new one.” She shook her head. “When people get desperate, they grasp at any chance at all.”

  “Okay.” Dan picked up the tablet again and brought up a blank screen. “Give us all the names I asked for, and I’ll get them checked out. Give us a list of your neighbors while you’re at it. You never know if one of them got a bee in his or her bonnet. Mark, you work with her on that. Troy, I think the security company’s here. I’ll get Andy doing some more digging and also check on what’s happening back at the office. All right, folks. Time to get busy.”

  Chapter Three

  The Cleaner was furious. He could barely contain his anger. How dare she have someone answer the telephone? And who was this asshole anyway? She never had men at her house. In all the times he’d called her, he was certain she’d been alone. And since he’d been in San Antonio, he’d always seen her alone. So where did this man come from who spoke so arrogantly and rudely to him?

  Surely he wasn’t someone with a personal interest in her. Didn’t he know what she was? He’d have to do something about that. A woman with a heart that black, who practiced the skills of the devil, should not have a mate. She might produce a spawn who would be just as evil. And possibly destroy the unsuspecting mate at the same time.

  And where had this guy come from all of a sudden? And what gave him the right to answer her phone? To talk to him that way? The Cleaner wanted to bang his head in frustration. Except that his head already hurt so badly, he could barely stand it. The pain had escalated the moment the man answered the phone. And now the she-devil wasn’t answering it at all.

  He’d thought for sure by this time she’d have stopped casting her spells. He’d had to forget about sending any more letters. Too chancy. There was always the possibility he’d somehow left a tiny bit of DNA and someone would find it. He was sure, after all, she turned the notes over to the cops.

  So then he focused strictly on the phone calls, hoping to frighten her enough that she stopped taking patients. Patients! That was a laugh. Victims, more likely. But nothing seemed to discourage her. Now even those had been effectively cut off. She wasn’t even answering the phone anymore.

  Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

  He’d have to get rid of her. That was the only thing to do.

  But how? That was the problem.

  He dug his knuckles into his pounding temples. He needed his prescription pills, but if he called a pharmacy they would be able to find out where he was. He was always so slick getting away from them. Just fly under their radar, and when they were lulled into a false sense of security, ease away.

  His parents had a false idea that they could somehow control him. What a joke that was. And how easy to fool them. He’d perfected that technique after years in that overpriced prison they’d stuck him in and discovered finally how to fool the doctors into releasing him. Home at last, only to discover his sister dying and medicine unable to help her.

  He would help her, and win praise from his parents.

  Everyone was so pleased at how he lavished attention on Cindy, fetched things for her as she lay in her bed, too sick to get up. They praised him for taking care of her the way he did, for spending so much time with her. And of course, being the center of attention, he was on his best behavior. Everything would have been fine if his parents hadn’t brought in that bitch to work her black magic on his sister. That she-devil. Suddenly, he was no longer important. No longer necessary. Everyone’s focus was on Cindy’s miraculous recovery and what they could do for her now.

  He never should have let his anger get the best of him, but when they had asked the witch if she could help him, his control had snapped and triggered an emotional explosion for him. What an insult that was. They’d wrung their hands when she said that was out of her field of expertise.

  He’d gotten himself under control, put on a good show for them before they could ship him off to the doctors again and just slipped out of sight. They’d never miss him. Bitterly, he realized they were probably glad to get rid of him.

  They had tried to block his access to the trust fund his grandparents had set up for him, but he knew just how to twist the old folks around his finger. He could put on a good act when he wanted something. They had no idea he’d bought a car that he kept stored in a rental garage for just such an occasion. Oh, it was in his name. No way around that. But they’d never think to look for it. They didn’t even know he could drive. He wasn’t sure they’d even bother to look for him. Good riddance, he imagined them saying.

  He didn’t need healing anyway. He was perfectly fine. It was everyone else who was wrong. And he’d be even better when he finally rid the world of this bitch. When he was safe again.

  Grabbing a handful of acetaminophen now, he tossed the tablets in his mouth and washed them down with a glass of water. Then he lay down on the couch, ice pack on his forehead, and lulled himself to sleep imagining how it would be at the end, when she knew she’d finally met her destiny.

  * * * * *

  Lauren leaned back in her chair and rubbed her stomach dramatically.

  “I don’t think I could stuff another bite in my body with a shoehorn.” She sighed. “But it sure was good.”

  Troy chuckled. “Just pizza and wine. Nothing fancy.” He’d stopped to pick it up on his way back from fetching his clothes at the Hallorans. Mark had hung out with her while Troy was gone so Lauren wouldn’t be alone.

  “But it was delicious pizza,” she protested. “And it really hit the spot after today.”

  Her house had been filled with men—both Phoenix and security alarm people—until well past five o’clock. But she now had a system that she was sure outdid anything the FBI or Secret Service could come up with. It included the cameras Dan had told her about and the new laptop sitting on her desk next to her Mac. They’d also switched out all her phones and replaced her answering machine with something no bigger than a deck of playing cards. Then they’d turned off the ringers on all the landline instruments.

  “Use your cell phone for all your calls,” Troy reminded her. “That way you can still keep in touch with the people you need to without this nut interfering.”

  At the moment, she didn’t feel much like returning calls to anyone or doing any work, but she’d have to get to it sooner rather than later. Her clients wouldn’t hang around waiting for her to get her act together. Tomorrow she’d get back to work, occupy her mind with something useful.

  “We also set a trap and trace on your line,” Dan continued. “We’ll find him, I promise you. And having all his calls on the recorder we set up will make it hard for him to weasel out of this.”

  “I keep hoping he’ll get tired of this and just give up.”

  “Men like this seldom do. It’s how they’re hardwired and their obsession becomes the focus of their lives. But we’ll find him and take him down.”

  With her house finally empty of everyone else and the security system fully armed, it was just the two of them sitting in the kitchen, talking about this and that while they ate. Troy talked about his life as a medic with the SEALs and Lauren told him how she’d gotten into the web design and graphics business. But the food was gone now, they’d made a serious dent in the bottle of wine and the sudden silence was so thick it was a
lmost palpable. Lauren was doing her best to be casual but it was hard to ignore the electricity crackling and sizzling between them.

  I wish I had more practice at this.

  To break the suddenly thick silence between them, she rose and gathered their dishes from the table, carrying them to the sink. When she turned around Troy was right behind her, holding the wineglasses. He set them on the counter but kept his hands leaning on the granite, effectively caging her with his arms. His face was inches from hers.

  “Lauren.” His voice was casual but not the look he gave her. “I’m about to step over a line here and if I’m making a mistake, feel free to tell me. Even ask me to leave.”

  She frowned. “I don’t understand. What do you mean?”

  “I mean, first and foremost I make it a rule never to mix business and pleasure.” His voice was raspy. “It can lead to all sorts of pitfalls. I’m here to see to your safety. But…” His voice trailed off and his gaze locked with hers, as if he wanted to see some unspoken answer there.

  “That’s a good policy.” Lauren was surprised she could get the words out at all, her throat was so dry. Her experience with men was limited—her choice—and she was stunned by the high voltage arcing between them. They’d just met, for god’s sake. She hadn’t been with many men, not being one to leave herself open to strong emotional connections. As a sensitive, her emotions always lay raw beneath the surface, and to survive, she had to keep them tightly leashed. She’d made poor choices in the men she’d been with, but none of those had instantly electrified her the way Troy Arsenault did.

  “Which I’ve always been able to stick to.” He was so close his breath fanned warmly on her face. “But somehow with you…” He gave a small shrug. “My good intentions and personal discipline have gone to shit. I don’t know what it is that hit me, Lauren, but I can sense that you feel it too.”