THE MITUS TOUCH: Book One of The Touch Series

by Stoni Alexander

  “I’m sorry for your loss.” She hastened toward the fountain. “Someone from your office called me two weeks ago.”

  “Unfortunately, there was a terrible mix-up and I have bad news.”

  Adrenaline spiked through her. Oh, God, please, no. No. No. No.

  “Vinny Ray was paroled.”

  She swallowed a stream of screams as her heart rate shot into the triple digits. “What? I thought he was still in prison.”

  “I’m sorry. Someone provided you with incorrect information.”

  She felt like she was going to pass out. “So, Ray was released four years early? When did this happen?”

  “Last month.”

  Rubbing her forehead, she started pacing. “How?”

  “State funding crisis paired with an overcrowded prison. Ray was a model prisoner and earned early release. Keep in mind he was found not guilty for the vehicular manslaughter charges.”

  “C’mon, Jim. You and I both know he got off because the police mishandled the case.”

  “But he was convicted after the anonymous caller tipped police to the bags of cocaine in his apartment.”

  Not so anonymous if you knew what he did to my home. “He’s a career criminal, not to mention a murderer. I cannot believe he’s free.”

  “His parole officer confirmed Ray checks in regularly and has already secured a part-time job. He’s in Pennsylvania and if I recall, you’re from Ohio. He won’t risk his freedom by breaking parole.”

  He already did. She thanked Jim for the call, and with shaky fingers hung up. Her worst fear had been confirmed. Vinny Ray was free and looking to make good on his threat. He’d broken parole once. What would stop him from doing it again?

  That evening, Brigit drank more than she ate.

  “You okay?” Taylor asked.

  “Nevvr beddrrr.” She shoved a forkful of roasted golden potatoes into her mouth.

  Taylor set down her fork. “Ryan is coming home with me for Thanksgiving. My parents are local, but we’re staying the night. If you don’t already have plans, please join us.”

  “You-n-Ryan.” Brigit smiled. The grin felt lopsided, like she’d gotten a shot of Novocain. “How sweet. You twos ennyjoy tha hollyday.”

  After dinner, Brigit staggered downstairs to the home theater room. She selected her favorite Hitchcock movie, “Dial M for Murder,” flopped onto the recliner and snuggled beneath the throw. As the movie started, she laid her head on the arm of the cushioned chair.

  Brigit silenced her annoying phone alarm and winced from the pounding in her head. Vanessa hovered over her. Recoiling in the chair, Brigit gasped. “What the—what are you doing?”

  “Going to work out,” Vanessa said. “The lights were on. It’s almost seven.”

  Brigit cradled her throbbing head.

  “Have a good day.” Vanessa took off for the gym.

  In search of aspirin, Brigit trudged upstairs before getting ready for work. Maybe it’s time to ease up on the wine.

  During the morning teleconference with the Francesco team, Marjorie asked both teams to email her their vote, which she’d tally and provide to Colton. Brigit typed two words in the body of the email to Mrs. Mic: White Knight.

  Defeat was a bitter pill to swallow the second time around, too. That afternoon, her phone buzzed with a text from Colton. No more alcohol. You shouldn’t be drinking at all.

  “What the hell?” she said out loud to herself. “You don’t get to boss me around.” She didn’t reply.

  On Thanksgiving eve, an eerie silence replaced the normally bustling home. Everyone but Chad and Vanessa had already left for the holiday. For the first time since Brigit had moved in, she’d dressed in sweats. Since the Clothing Czar wasn’t there to bark orders, she took advantage of the nonexistent dress code. She joined them for a quiet dinner in the kitchen. While neither were dressed as casually as she, Vanessa’s conservative black pants and black turtleneck sweater were the most appropriate attire she’d worn since Brigit had started working there.

  “What are your holiday plans, Brigit?” Chad asked.

  “I have none,” Brigit said. “How about you?”

  “Family reunion at my aunt’s lake house in Virginia. I’m outta here in ten. It’s a two-hour drive and I-95 will be a parking lot. How ‘bout you, Vanessa?” Chad asked.

  “Big group hug, also known as my crazy family,” Vanessa said. “I’m off for eleven days, due back the first Monday in December.”

  Brigit found this time of year excruciatingly painful. Hearing them talk about their holiday plans reminded her of how alone she was.

  “Dude, you never take vacation.” Chad forked pasta into his mouth.

  “I know, right?” Vanessa finished her iced tea. “Time to shake things up.”

  “Brigit, every year Elliott cooks a complete Thanksgiving dinner.” Vanessa started cleaning up. “It’s for staff who stick around and leftovers are scarfed up over the weekend as the crew returns. His stuffing is to die for! And this year Shane baked several pies. Lucky you get to sample everything first.”

  Not feeling lucky. I’d trade it for my family.

  After placing his dish in the dishwasher, Chad said, “Gotta fly.” He started to leave, but turned back. “Oh, Brigit, I signed for a package for you this afternoon. It’s in my office. And one more thing, ladies, Henninger Security is running their annual maintenance check, so I shut down the system. If I didn’t deactivate it, it would signal false alarms all weekend. Pain in my ass.” He headed down the hallway. “Happy Turkey Day!”

  Anxiety gripped Brigit by her throat. The security system was off and she was going to be alone in a humongous house. Her palms grew clammy. After cleaning her dinner dishes, she hurried to Chad’s office.

  His spotless and clutter-free workspace looked like a mini-command center. Three poster-sized monitors hung on the wall. Four additional flat-screened monitors consumed his desk, along with two specialized keyboards. All screens were dark. A reminder note on his keyboard read, Call Henninger before booting up or you’ll trigger the alarm.

  He’d left the standard-sized brown box on his desk. It had been forwarded to her from Porter, Gabriel and Sethfield. Her name had been spelled wrong—Bridgette Forney—and the sender hadn’t included a name with the illegible D.C. return address.

  On her way back to her office, her phone buzzed with a text from Colton. I’ll be home Friday. We need to talk.

  After staring at his cryptic message, she silenced the device and slipped it into her sweatpants pocket. Was he going to tell her about his relationship with Alexandra? Had Tucker pieced together her past? A shudder ran through her. Seeing Colton leave with the leggy brunette had put things in perspective.

  Vinny Ray was a tangible threat and Brigit needed to make a decision. Either take off again or come clean, about everything. By Friday, she’d either be long gone or ready to confess the truth.

  Entering her office, she rifled through her desk drawer for scissors. After slicing through the packing tape, she lifted the cardboard flaps. A wave of fear pounded through her and she stumbled backward. Had someone mailed her a dead animal?

  She poked the fur with the tip of the scissors. The thing didn’t move. On closer examination, she realized it was a black wig. Her heart hammered against her rib cage. She pulled the wig out of the box. No note or receipt. On a hunch, she checked the inside of the wig and let out a strangled cry. It was the wig with the snipped orange boutique tag. The one Ray had yanked off her head all those years ago.

  Brigit needed to leave. Now.

  Think, think! She couldn’t go home. She’d have to hide. But where? Think, dammit! Ray had sent the wig to her office. Maybe he hadn’t tracked her to Mitus Mansion. Being in the house alone, with no security system, terrified her. With her thoughts in a jumbled mess, she couldn’t formulate a plan. Panicked, she grabbed the wig and bolted upstairs to her bedroom.

  With lightning speed, she shoved the wig and some clothes into an overnig
ht bag and ran from her room, slamming the door behind her. The sudden bang sounded like a gunshot and she shrieked. Alone in the darkened hallway, a chill careened down her spine.

  She ran through the deserted home to the lower level. As soon as she bolted into the parking garage, she triggered the motion detector. Light flooded the spacious area. Normally filled to capacity, the garage was vacant, save for three cars. The Bentley, the Mercedes-Maybach, and her black Escalade, tucked in the back corner.

  Frantic to escape, Brigit fished out her keys as she jumped into the SUV. She threw her handbag and overnight bag onto the passenger seat, shoved the key into the ignition and started the engine.

  Go! Go! Go!

  Brigit shot a glance in the rearview mirror. Before she could fully grasp what was happening, someone wearing a black leather glove placed a cold damp cloth over her nose and mouth, pinning her to the headrest and muffling her desperate scream.

  44

  Pain

  Brigit winced. A shooting pain radiated through her, halting her already shallow breath. Groaning, she gasped for air. Ow. Ow. Ow. Cracking open her eyes, darkness greeted her. Nightmare? Slowly she regained consciousness. The frigid cold stung her cheeks, her head throbbed, and her blurred vision crippled her ability to see.

  Adrenaline shot through her. She was lying on her side, but when she tried to move, she couldn’t. Was she paralyzed? Frozen? Bound? Her cheek felt taut. More panic sent her heart into a burst of palpitations. Vinny Ray.

  She was trapped, unable to move her arms or legs. A thunderous roar, like an earthquake, vibrated her surroundings. Within seconds the rumbles that had interrupted the silence rolled away.

  Suddenly, the darkness lifted. Squinting, she looked around. Her cold breath was visible in the air. There were trees nearby, but tall grass and brush blocked her view. I’m outside.

  Something large and dark sniffed her and she gagged from the vile stench. The involuntary reaction sent waves of unrelenting spasms pounding through her. Wolf. The animal licked her cheek and she trembled. The jarring movements nauseating her. This was no nightmare. It was a living hell. More thunderous noise grumbled above, only this time the ground didn’t shake.

  The pacing predator lay back down, creating a shield from the bitter wind. As the sun broke over the horizon, Brigit had no concept of time, only of pain and of fear. The animal made a few sounds, like whimpers. On occasion it would reposition itself, but stayed close, as if guarding her.

  When the sun brought relief from the cold, the beast trotted away. Immobilized, Brigit struggled to remember but fog clouded her memory. Though she floated in and out of consciousness the pain remained constant. As the giant orange fireball inched toward the red horizon, desolation filled her heart. How could her life end like this? Was this how karma worked in the end?

  Every minute felt like a grueling eternity. Nonstop shivering racked her weakened, stiff body. Muffled traffic grew sparse, as did the grumblings in the sky. With nightfall, and the plummeting temperature, she feared she’d die from hypothermia. Please, not like this.

  Suddenly, car doors slammed shut. “Brigit!” Colton’s piercing scream shattered the silence.

  “Here.” She wanted to shout, but all she mustered was a hoarse whisper.

  Maniacal barking got louder. Fear gripped her throat. She tried screaming, but couldn’t. Would the animal attack?

  “I’ve got her!” Taylor shouted. Breathing hard, she dropped to her knees. “Hey, buddy, don’t bite me.” Taylor extended her hand toward the panting animal. It sniffed her, then lay down nearby.

  Taylor needed to be warned. “Wolf,” Brigit whispered.

  “Brigit, you’re going to be okay.” Taylor tugged off her coat and laid it gently over Brigit. “I’m going to untie you. Are you in pain?”

  “Uh-huh.” Brigit stammered between chattering.

  Colton and Ryan knelt next to her. Tears pricked her eyes. While Taylor and Ryan untied her, Colton gently pulled her matted hair from her cheek. Relief. “Thirsty,” she rasped.

  “I’ve got water.” Ryan dashed away.

  Colton removed his coat and laid it over Taylor’s, then reached beneath the layers to warm her hands. Worry lines etched his face, the knot between his brows prominent.

  “We’ve got to get her to the hospital.” A tear streaked Taylor’s cheek.

  “My house.” Brigit inhaled, sending jolting pain through her torso.

  “No. You need emergency medical attention.” Colton pulled out his phone.

  Returning with the water, Ryan crouched down. As Colton cradled her head, he poured a few sips of water into her mouth. The chilled liquid soothed her scratchy throat.

  “Brigit.” Colton caressed her cheek. “You need to go to the hospital.”

  “I’m scared,” she whispered. She hadn’t set foot in a hospital since the death of her parents. “They died in one.”

  “I won’t leave you.”

  “Promise?” she whispered.

  “I promise.” Colton stepped away and made the nine-one-one call.

  “How did you get here?” Ryan asked.

  “Where am I?” Brigit asked. She was freezing, exhausted and she hurt everywhere.

  “You’re at Daingerfield Island, in Alexandria,” Ryan said. “Near a marina, across the river from Reagan National Airport.”

  Brigit struggled to stay awake. “I…I don’t know.”

  Colton knelt and stared into her eyes. “The ambulance is on its way.” Again, he reached under the coats and held her hands. His large hands did more than warm her frozen ones. She felt safe. Relief washed over her and she choked back a sob. Excruciating pain rocketed through her.

  “Wolf?” Brigit asked.

  “It looks like a mangy German Shepherd,” Taylor said.

  “It kept me alive,” Brigit whispered. “Please bring it.”

  The ambulance arrived and paramedics rushed to Brigit’s side. After checking her vitals, they placed a brace around her neck. On the count of three they lifted her onto the stretcher. The shooting pain in her torso stole her breath and she gritted her teeth. Just before the ambulance doors closed, Colton climbed in and Brigit tried to relax. He’d kept his promise. The EMT started her on an IV drip and covered her with a blanket.

  Unable to fight the exhaustion, she closed her eyes. I’m safe.

  “You’re going to be okay,” Colton whispered into her ear.

  Colton stepped out of the triage room and called Taylor.

  “How’s she doing?” Taylor asked.

  “The doctor is with her. Do you have the dog?”

  “He jumped right in. We stopped for dog stuff and a several bottles of flea shampoo. We’ll bathe him in the mudroom. That mutt stinks!”

  “I interrupted your Thanksgiving holiday. I’ll make it up to you.”

  “No worries. It kills me to think what would have happened if we hadn’t found her.”

  “Say nothing to the staff. Until we know what happened, I don’t want to scare them.”

  “I understand,” Taylor said.

  The nurse stepped out of triage and looked around. “I have to go.” Colton ended the call and approached the nurse. “Can I go in?”

  “Yes, Dr. Hayes wants to update you.”

  Colton entered the single-unit room. Brigit lay in the hospital bed with her eyes closed. Her hair was matted, her cheek swollen, and her forehead scratched. “Dr. Hayes, Colton Mitus. How is she?” He extended his hand.

  “Lucky to be alive,” the doctor said shaking it. “In addition to being badly beaten, her ribs are bruised at best. I’ll confirm the degree of damage with X-rays. Looks like she suffered a concussion and appears to have been injected with a substance that probably caused her to lose consciousness. I’ll know more once we get the tox report back.”

  “Can I have a private word?” Colton asked. The doctor stepped out and Colton followed.

  “Brigit’s pregnant,” Colton said.

  “Why step out to disc
uss that?”

  “I overheard her talking with a mutual friend and I don’t want to spoil the surprise of her telling me.”

  “How far along might she be?”

  “Four weeks.”

  “I’ll add the pregnancy test to the order, but hold off imaging her ribs and prescribing a painkiller until the report comes back.” The doctor tapped on his tablet. “I do have a piece of good news. We found no evidence Brigit was sexually assaulted. We’re admitting her, but it’ll be a few hours before she’s moved to a room. Things happen slowly around here. I’ll let you know the results as soon as I hear.”

  “Can I go back in?”

  “Yes. I’ll have the tech draw blood.” Dr. Hayes left.

  Colton slipped into the triage room and sat in the chair next to Brigit’s bed. Her steady, peaceful breathing helped him relax. His concern had escalated Tuesday after Vanessa had told him Brigit had gotten drunk on Monday night. When Brigit hadn’t responded to his texts, he’d called Taylor Thanksgiving morning. Brigit wasn’t with her. He’d then asked Chad to remote in and locate her phone. Surprised by its whereabouts, Colton asked Taylor and Ryan to help him.

  Finding her dumped amongst the bramble bushes on the restricted-access dirt road near the marina in Alexandria had been surreal. Scared the hell out of him. But she’d been alive. And that gave him hope. For a man who needed control, he’d had none. Absolutely none. He raked his hands over his whiskered face and exhaled an audible breath.

  “Colton?” Brigit rasped.

  He took her hand.

  “I…I need to tell you…”

  She was going to tell him about the baby He leaned close, full of anticipation.

  “You don’t have to stay,” she whispered.

  Disappointed, he shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere.” He kissed her forehead. His heart broke for her. Someone wanted her dead. But he’d found her. This time, he was able to get help before it was too late.

  The nurse drew blood and left. After several minutes, Brigit fell asleep. When Dr. Hays returned, Brigit didn’t awaken, so the doctor spoke with Colton.