Exposure Season 1 e-1

by Tonya Muir

  She’s quiet for a long time, tracing her finger along an invisible line on her desk blotter. "I’m sure it’s nothing, Harper."

  "Little Roo, your words and your actions don’t match. This person really has you shaken up. Let’s do something about it."

  "Okay." She nods.

  "Have you noticed anyone watching you or following you? Maybe at the gym or a new staff member at your building?"

  "No."

  "Any phone calls?"

  Kelsey is way too quiet after that question.

  "Jesus Christ, Kels," I blurt out before remembering my resolve to calm down. "How many times?"

  "I dunno," she shrugs. "No one speaks on the other end. Usually they hang up, sometimes they just stay quiet and I hang up."

  "Do you have Caller ID?"

  "No."

  I roll my eyes with exasperation. "Did you try that dial-back thing for missed calls?"

  She wrinkles her nose and is undeniably cute with the action. "They charge for that. What a rip off."

  "Kels, this is serious. This person knows where you live. You’re getting gifts at home, too?

  "Yeah."

  "Erik’s still gone, so you’re by yourself?"

  "Well, there’s Susan," she provides helpfully, making my stomach flip.

  I hate talking about Susan. Why does she keep coming up? "Oh big help. She uses a tongue depressor for a living."

  Kelsey meets my eyes and is almost smiling at the banter. "You carry a camera for a living."

  "Sure," I allow. "But it’ll hurt a lot more when I swing it at that bastard. A tongue depressor is fucking worthless."

  "I wouldn’t say worthless," she replies with a leer.

  I do not want to know. But at least she’s joking around now. I hope she’s joking, anyway. Tongue depressor?

  "You think it’s a guy?" she asks instead, when she realizes I’m not rising to her bait.

  We talked about this after the first flowers arrived, I remember vaguely. "I feel like it is," I admit. "I don’t know why."

  She nods slowly but doesn’t comment.

  "What other gifts have you received? Anything else like this?"

  "No." She stands up and stretches her arms above her head. I try hard not to focus on how that accentuates her assets. "Flowers. Stuffed animals. Box of chocolates."

  "Did you eat them?"

  She pauses a long time to lay a killer look on me. "I’m not a fucking moron, Harper."

  Right. "Where is the rest of the stuff?"

  "I think I still have one of the bears. It’s at the condo. Everything else is gone."

  We watch each other for a long moment. She seems calmer; she’s not shaking anymore at any rate. "Tell ya what, I’ll come get the bear tonight and go chat with my friends." I needed a night at The Rio anyway. When I’m out, I spend less time picturing Kelsey and my clone in a naked embrace.

  "Okay."

  "Are you afraid, Kels?"

  She waves me off. "Nah, I’m sure it’s nothing." She’s lying. We both know it, but it’ll do little good to call her on it.

  Without thinking, I rise and cross to her, pulling her into a hug. We haven’t touched like this since Omaha but I remember it providing her comfort then. I want it to now. She stiffens briefly before relaxing and putting her arms around my waist. I lay my cheek against her golden head. "I promise you, I won’t let anyone hurt you."

  "I know," she whispers. "I believe you."

  Then the moment is gone and she’s pulling away from me. The walls go back up and she turns into Ms. Professional. I don’t like Ms. Professional very much but I have a lot of respect for her. "So what did you call me back here for?"

  * * *

  Gary’s there when I walk in. He’s always there. He needs a life.

  I called Justin and Bear and asked them to meet me. It’s not poker night so there was no guarantee I’d run into them. A quick glance tells me they haven’t arrived yet.

  I claim a stool to Gary’s right, reaching over the bar to grab a cherry and popping it into my mouth. The bartender slaps me but it’s more of a game than an admonishment.

  "Whiskey?" he asks.

  "Beer. Anything dark on tap." I haven’t been able to drink whiskey since Omaha. I had it once the first week back and only remembered the flavor of it on Kelsey’s tongue. God, what I wouldn’t do to taste that again. I wonder if the rest of her tastes as sweet. I know it does.

  "How’s it going?" Gary interrupts my less-than-chaste thoughts. That’s for the best, anyway. Lusting after Kelsey gets me nowhere but frustrated. And I don’t want to take someone home tonight.

  I place a ten inch blue teddy bear on the bar, pulling it from where I’d stuffed it under my leather jacket.

  Gary looks at quizzically, then looks to me. "You’ve had better dates. Rough week?"

  Oh, he’s a laugh a minute, the asshole. "Mean anything to you?"

  "Should it?"

  I shrug. "Friend of mine has been getting weird things from a secret admirer. This was one of ‘em."

  "Not so weird," he replies as I take a drink of the beer that’s been placed in front of me. "You know, Harper, sometimes people court and woo a potential date. Not everyone just crooks a finger and finds something naked and willing in their laps."

  I smirk. "Well, if it works-"

  "Don’t knock it," he finishes. "No shit about that," he shakes his head in admiration.

  "Today’s gift was a box of dead roses and a creepy note."

  This gets Gary’s attention and he sets his beer down with an audible thump. Just then Justin and Bear arrive. I recap for them, pointing out the blue teddy bear with the silly grin.

  "Who is your friend?" Justin asks while flagging down the bartender.

  I hesitate for a moment. It’s absurd to want to protect her identity, I know it’s safe with these men just as their poker table secrets have been safe with me. "Kelsey Stanton."

  Gary stops and stares at me, the peanut he’d been tossing into his mouth bouncing off his cheek. "You’re shitting me."

  "No."

  "She’s public enough that this could be anybody, Harper," Justin replies.

  Thanks, pal. "I know."

  "She’s so cold. No wonder the bear is blue." Gary should have figured out by now that type of comment is off limits. The glare I give him is not a gentle reminder.

  "Do you have the note?" Bear asks, diverting my attention.

  I pull it out of my jeans pocket and hand it to him. It’s in a plastic baggie, not that I expect there to be anything as helpful as prints on it. I watch the large man’s jaw work and it worries me.

  "Can I keep this?"

  "Yeah."

  "Will she talk to the police?"

  "She will," I nod. "But she’s a little spooked. She’s kind of shrugging it off as nothing, but those dead roses were left in her car. She’s been getting gifts at work and home. This guy is persistent."

  "Does she have any of the other gifts?" Bear is much more interested than our companions. Of course, it makes sense given his job.

  "Only the bear and the roses. I didn’t bring the roses but they’re in my office. I can get them to you tomorrow."

  "I’d like them," he says seriously.

  He’s worrying me. I left Kelsey’s building as Susan was coming in, but I don’t trust the doctor to keep my partner safe. Distracted, maybe. But not safe. I glance to the other two and they seem to have lost interest; they’re watching a Baywatch rerun on the bar’s television. They’re men; I excuse them for a short attention span.

  "Walk with me?" I ask Bear and he nods, pushing his beer further onto the counter and following me out the door into the warm, dark night.

  "What the fuck is going on, Bear?" I ask when we’re alone, well, except for Snake. The mountainous bouncer gives us a gap-toothed smile as we come out. "I thought she should be concerned but I didn’t think you’d react like this."

  He sighs and seems to consider his response. "You know that case I
’m working on, the rapes and murders?"

  "Yeah?"

  "One of the women, the second one, had a handwritten note at the scene. It was gibberish: street names and off comments. We think he wrote it while he was following her."

  "And?" I don’t like where this is going.

  "Look, I’m no handwriting expert. And it’s not even in the same color ink or on the same paper, but there’s something about this note your friend got that rubs me the wrong way. I’d like to have our analyst look at it."

  "Bullshit, Bear," I laugh sharply. "This is someone jealous of her and Erik. Someone who saw her when she was an anchor and watches our special reports. He’s off balanced, yeah, but not a rapist. Not a murderer." Am I convincing him or myself?

  He chuckles softly and nods. "You’re probably right, Harper. I’m paranoid. Those scenes ... the women … it really is brutal. I want to catch this guy and I think I see clues everywhere. Let me run this note. I’m sure it’s not even related. But we’ll both sleep better, right?"

  "Well, I will, but I bet you hope it’s him." I’m no fool. I know Bear would piss himself to have one of the killer’s potential victims under his watch.

  Bear stops strolling back to the bar and looks at me. His large face softens and is oddly expressive. "Harper, I hope it’s not him. I wouldn’t want your friend to be associated with this guy."

  I take a five dollar bill out of my pocket and shove it into his hand. "Pay for my beer." I punch Snake in his thick arm good-naturedly. "Thanks for watching over my baby."

  Snake shrugs. "Everyone needs someone to watch over them."

  Ain’t that the truth. I hope it doesn’t get too chilly tonight since it looks like I’ll be spending it outside Kelsey’s building.

  * * *

  The first thing I notice when I get to the office is Harper looks like hell. Her dark hair is pulled back into a tight French braid and her eyes are haggard. She’s drinking coffee like it’s a life source and I’m worried that I pissed her off again.

  The reason I get such a good look at her is because she’s sitting in my chair, her feet on my desk.

  "Big story?" I ask by way of greeting.

  She shakes her head. "Are you okay?"

  I think we’re both surprised by the sudden question. She looks exhausted and apparently her filtering systems are down. "I’m fine."

  "Any gifts or phone calls? Anything?"

  "No." She’s worrying me and she must see it on my face.

  "I’m sorry," she sighs, getting up. "Gail is bringing your tea. D’you believe I had to ask her? Is she fucking stupid? Even I know you drink tea every morning."

  I wave it off. Gail is no brain trust, that’s for damn sure. "Thank you." She nods.

  "Did you talk to your cop friends?"

  She appears to freeze, blue eyes wide. "A little. They’re looking into some stuff. No big deal."

  "Right." I study her for a long moment. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Harper Kingsley this tense. She’s strung tight, long fingers constantly fidgeting with the mug in her grip. "Are you okay? I know you have plenty of friends to talk to but ... I’d like you to know you can talk to me, too. If something’s wrong. I’d try to help you." God, I sound like an idiot. I’m not very good at this friendship thing. No wonder I don’t have any.

  She seems to soften at my words but the worried look doesn’t leave her eyes. "I appreciate that, Kels. I really do. It means a lot to me. But I’m fine. I’m expecting a phone call, kind of eager about it. I better get back to my office."

  She may be gorgeous but I’m relieved to find out she’s as odd as the rest of us.

  * * *

  "Harper?"

  "Bear." About damn time. It’s nearly noon. "Tell me about the note."

  He doesn’t waste time. "No match. You can relax. It wasn’t even close."

  Jesus. I feel instantly relieved. "Thank you."

  "I’d like those roses. Your friend still has some kinda weird stalker thing going on."

  "Yeah. Should we meet for lunch? You can talk to her directly," I offer, hoping Kelsey doesn’t have plans with Susan. "And don’t mention the suspicions we had last night. I didn’t tell her."

  "No problem," he agrees. We make plans for him to come to the station first.

  * * *

  Kelsey is less receptive than I’d hoped.

  "Do you have lunch plans?" I fish, trying to figure out her reluctance. Is it me? I thought we were past that. I’d hoped we were, anyway.

  "No," she says slowly.

  "It’s just business, Kels," I say shortly, allowing myself to get angry at her rejection. "And my buddy’ll be there. So I’ll have to keep my hands to myself."

  "No," she responds quickly, rising from her chair. "No, Harper, it’s not that." She runs her hand through her hair and I know she’s trying to get the courage to tell me something. "It’s just ... if this person is following me, I don’t want him to see me talking to the cops. Your friend’s been on TV with those murders and I don’t want my admirer to think I ratted on him."

  I understand her fear now. "Of course, you’re right. I’m sorry." I try my best lopsided grin, knowing I shouldn’t have gotten so defensive with her. We’ve both been trying.

  "Can I talk to him here?"

  "Yeah. I’m sorry, Little Roo. I should have thought about that." I should have, too. How the fuck am I supposed to keep my promise to her if I lose my ability to think after one sleepless night? I’ve had a shitload of sleepless nights before. Of course they were filled with arousing activity and not sitting on a curb with a thermos of coffee. I guess the arousing activity was more stimulating than Maxwell House. Hell, I know it was. I am glad to say, though, that Susan didn’t spend the night. She left just before midnight and I refrained from stuffing a banana up her tailpipe. Ooh, another thing that sounds dirty, but isn’t.

  "Let’s order pizza," she suggests. "My treat."

  I guess I’ve been forgiven.

  * * *

  Bear smiles nervously when I introduce him to Kelsey. "Pleasure," he manages, blushing to his roots.

  Kelsey smiles back politely, obviously used to eliciting this reaction. "Thanks for coming here, Detective Brice."

  "Call me Ted, please."

  "No, call him Bear," I interject. I motion to the two pies lying on my desk. "Come on, let’s eat while it’s hot."

  We settle around the desk to gorge ourselves on pizza. It is topped with pepperoni, sausage and hamburger. Kels makes a face as I pick up the first slice to my mouth. I pause in mid-bite. "What?"

  "Is anything on four legs safe around you?"

  "Chér, most things with two legs aren’t safe around me," I reply, giving her my most lascivious look.

  "Hand me a slice," Kelsey answers, surprising me. Who knew she could flirt? Was she flirting?

  Bear chuckles at my discomfort. "Ms. Stanton, when did the gifts begin?"

  "It’s Kelsey. They began the day after Erik received the Popular Pick’s award. It started off with a dozen roses and a note."

  "And how many have you received now?"

  "About one every other day for the last three weeks. Flowers, chocolates, stuffed animals, balloons, little poetry books, all that type of stuff. All with the same note: ‘From a Secret Admirer.’ Until yesterday when he put the dead roses in my car." She shivers, and it’s not from the cold.

  "Do you still have that first note, Kels?" I ask, remembering she put it in her desk drawer.

  "I think so. Want me to go get it?"

  "That would be great if you could, Ms … Kelsey."

  "Excuse me," she says, wiping her mouth and hands. I watch her leave, noticing yet again that she has a perfectly proportioned body. Damn Susan.

  Bear catches me lusting after her but wisely says nothing. "Jesus, Harper, that means she’s received more than ten gifts from this nut."

  "Some at home, some here, some in her fucking car. He’s called her at home, on her unlisted number."

  "We need
to get her some protection."

  I laugh. "I don’t think she needs condoms."

  He joins me, grateful for a break in the tension. "I’ll speak to Greg Komansky, he’s head of the Threat Management Unit."

  "Nice euphemism."

  "Well, we didn’t want to call it Stalkers Anonymous for God’s sake."

  I wonder what’s taking Kelsey so long. I look over at her office and see her curled up in her chair, crying. "Bear!" I call as I am bounding out of my office and into hers.

  On the floor are scattered pictures of her, and me, and Erik, and Susan. She’s clutching a note in her hand mindlessly. I remove it, trying to only touch it at its corners and place it on the desk. It reads "You belong to me."

  "Come here," I say, even as I take her into my arms. She hugs me readily. Our boundaries are forgotten in the midst of crisis, as per standard operating procedure with us. I enfold her in a strong embrace, rocking her gently, whispering calming words.

  Bear is gathering up the photographs with a gloved hand. He’s scared, I can tell. So am I.

  "We need to get Komansky over here now, Harper. I want a written report on file. She needs to start keeping a diary of the incidents and report each of them. And it’s time to get a bodyguard."

  "No, no bodyguard," Kelsey protests against me.

  I don’t release her. "Yes, a bodyguard. Me."

  "You?" she echoes.

  "Me."

  She stares at me for a long moment, her green eyes still wet with tears. "Okay."

  "Good. Glad that’s settled." And that means no Susan. At least, I hope it does.

  Bear interrupts us as he lumbers to his feet. "I’m going to take these things in to the station, Harper. I’ll call you later."

  "Thanks, bud." I say over Kelsey’s head. It feels so good holding her.

  But she’s moving away from me now, wiping away her tears and reaching for the phone. "I need to call Susan," she explains.

  Damn.

  "And tell her not to come over tonight. It’s not safe."

  "No, it’s not," I readily agree. Because if she comes over, I’ll be there. Definitely not safe for her.

  "Thanks, Harper."