by Lisa Childs
Blaine followed her to the dressing room. But one of the retail clerks hurried over to stop him. “Sir, you can’t go into the dressing rooms!”
The woman was in her fifties with frosted hair and a frosted glare. She studied Blaine’s hand and then glanced at Rebecca’s bare one. Rebecca’s face heated with embarrassment over what the disapproving clerk obviously thought. Blaine wore a wedding ring, and she didn’t.
He flashed his badge. “I need to check out the dressing room and make sure no one’s back there.”
“There is no one back there,” the woman haughtily told him.
“I need to check it out myself,” he insisted and added beneath his breath, “or Jared will kill me.
“I’ll look and leave,” he promised her.
She sniffed with disdain but allowed him to look. “It’s safe,” he told Rebecca.
“Of course it is,” the woman said. She took the dresses from Rebecca and led her back to one of the rooms. “Do you need any help?”
“No,” Rebecca replied. What she really needed was to be alone. If Jared wasn’t with her, someone else was—watching and protecting her. She needed a moment to breathe without anyone worrying about her safety.
So she took her time trying on the dresses. The ones she’d grabbed at the last minute weren’t flattering. The A-frame waistline of the first made her look like she was expecting again. She tensed for a moment. But then shook her head. She couldn’t be. And if she was, she wouldn’t be showing yet.
She unzipped that one and shimmied into another. It was a pale cream. Too close to white to wear to a wedding. She was reaching for the zipper when she heard something.
Hadn’t Blaine assured her that the dressing rooms were empty? Had he let someone else into them? Maybe the judgmental clerk had insisted on checking on her.
She drew in a breath, bracing herself for no longer being alone. She’d only wanted a few minutes to herself. But then the lights blinked off, plunging the dressing room into total darkness. With no windows in the back of the store, the blackness was all-enveloping.
Was this how Lexi had been grabbed from the bridal boutique? Had someone shut off the lights and attacked her in the dark?
She parted her lips to utter a scream for Blaine, but a hand clamped over her mouth. And a familiar low and raspy voice whispered in her ear, “Look how easily I got to you.”
Oh, God. This wasn’t just another of those eerie warnings. This was it—her abduction. But she wouldn’t go anywhere without one hell of a fight. So she kicked her legs and swung her fists as she fought for her life. For her son who needed his mother.
For Jared...
She couldn’t leave them like Lexi had left her. Forever.
Chapter Eleven
The interview with Kyle Smith had been an exercise in frustration and probably futility. The man hadn’t been able to readily supply alibis—which probably meant he had no reason for any. Most people didn’t remember exactly where they were and who they were with a week ago, let alone years before. Kyle had remembered only his alibi for Amy Wilcox’s abduction. But he hadn’t remembered any for the others. He hadn’t even remembered the other victims’ names but for Lexi.
Natalie Gilsen, Madison Kincaid, Heather Foster, Tasha Taylor and Eden LeValley had been forgotten as far as Kyle Smith was concerned. Jared hadn’t forgotten them—hadn’t forgotten how he’d failed them. If he’d caught Lexi’s killer—like he’d promised Becca—all those other women would have lived. They would have married their grooms and probably been raising kids by now.
But just because Kyle Smith hadn’t remembered the other women’s names didn’t mean he hadn’t killed them. Jared passed the folder over to another agent. “I’ve started compiling information on Kyle Smith. I need you to delve more thoroughly into his past and any connection he might have to the victims. Also check to see if he was ever jilted—left at the altar or broken engagement.”
The younger agent widened her eyes. “You think Kyle Smith could be the Butcher?”
Jared nearly laughed. The young woman obviously had a crush on the obnoxious reporter. “It wouldn’t break my heart if he was.”
“Oh,” she said with a nod. “I saw that report he did about you.”
“But Agent Bell would never be unprofessional enough to use the Bureau for revenge,” a deep voice said.
Jared turned toward his boss. Despite it being several years since he’d done any fieldwork, Chief Special Agent Lynch still moved with surprising silence. He’d easily snuck up behind Jared in the hall. But maybe he wouldn’t have snuck up so easily if Jared hadn’t been so tired. His nights weren’t sleepless because of protection duty, though, but because Becca shared his bed. Fortunately, his apartment was in a high-security building. Harris Mowery or whoever the Butcher really was wouldn’t get to her and Alex there.
But Jared didn’t want her with him just for her and Alex’s protection. He wanted Becca in every way...
With only a meaningful glance, Chief Lynch sent the young agent running for her desk. That was why he was in charge. Jared braced himself. Not that the chief hadn’t already reprimanded him for crossing the line with a victim’s family member. He’d even threatened to take him off the case. That was why Jared had had to take the call outside Becca’s house the night his boss had phoned—the same night Harris Mowery had showed up at her door.
The same night Jared had spent crossing the line again—in Becca’s bed.
“I’m not,” Jared said, “using the Bureau for revenge.”
Lynch nodded and agreed. “Smith is a viable suspect. A national network didn’t pick him up until he covered Lexi Drummond’s murder.”
So he’d used Becca’s sister’s murder to further his career. “I’m going to try to find a link between them.” Or between Smith and Harris Mowery. Why had he given the man Becca’s address? He’d claimed he hadn’t, but Jared had learned to believe nothing a suspect said.
His cell phone vibrated in his pocket. “Excuse me, sir...” He needed to at least check and see who was calling. He pulled out the phone. After recognizing the number on the caller ID, he fumbled to answer it. “It’s Alex’s school. Hello, this is Jared Bell.”
“Mr. Bell, this is Julie VanManen from Saint Agnes School for Gifted Children.”
Why was the principal calling? He couldn’t imagine Alex getting into trouble. Maybe out of boredom in a regular classroom. But he loved his new school. “Is everything okay, Ms. VanManen?”
“I hope so,” she replied. “No one has arrived to pick up your son yet.”
Jared’s blood chilled. Becca had never been late to pick up Alex during the week in which they’d been staying with him. “I—I’ll come right away.”
Alex was probably nervous that no one had picked him up. And Jared was scared to death that no one had. His hand shaking, he punched in the number for Blaine Campbell. Even though Special Agent Campbell worked the bank robbery division, his true specialty was protecting women. He had that white knight gene—the one that made him the protector of every damsel in distress.
Not that Jared had considered Becca a damsel in distress. He’d had to insist on the protection detail. She’d thought he was overreacting—until Harris Mowery had showed up at her door.
Blaine’s phone went directly to voice mail. He tried Becca’s even though he suspected she had shut it off to avoid any more ominous calls. It went straight to voice mail, too. Jared cursed.
“I’ll pick up your son,” Chief Lynch offered. “You find Agent Campbell.”
Jared hesitated a moment.
“I will protect your son,” Lynch vowed.
Jared wasn’t worried about him protecting Alex. He was worried about him scaring the crap out of him. The guy was intimidating to special agents who’d faced down death and endured torture.
Lynch chuckled, and suddenly he looked twenty years younger. “I am a father, too, you know.”
Jared had had no idea.
“I know how t
o handle kids.”
Jared nodded acceptance as he started walking toward the elevator. “I’ll call the school and let them know you have my permission to get Alex.” He pounded the down button for the elevators, impatient for the car to arrive. If he wasn’t on the tenth floor, he would have taken the stairs. Maybe he still should...
But he could hear the car coming, rattling in the shaft as it rose. He punched in Blaine’s phone number again. Where the hell was he? Where the hell was Becca?
His guts tightened with dread and fear. She couldn’t be like those other women—she couldn’t be missing. Why would the killer have abducted her? She wasn’t engaged.
But he’d thought about it—had thought about how nice it was having Becca and Alex living with him. He’d thought about how amazing it was sleeping next to her, his arms wrapped tightly around her warm, soft body.
Had just thinking it endangered her?
* * *
“ARE YOU SURE you’re okay?” Blaine asked, his voice deep with concern and guilt.
Rebecca shook her head and winced as pain radiated throughout her skull.
“I should have taken you to the hospital,” Blaine said. He had brought her back to Jared’s apartment instead. He led her over to one of the leather couches in the living room.
She was still shaking from the close call she’d had, so she dropped onto the closest couch. The leather shifted beneath her. Alex always giggled when the leather creaked and squeaked beneath him.
“Alex!” she said. “We forgot to pick up Alex!”
Blaine’s face paled. But she didn’t know if it was because he’d forgotten the boy, too. Or if it was because the apartment door rattled as someone turned the knob.
Blaine drew his weapon and pointed the barrel toward the door. “Who’s there?”
“It’s me,” Jared said as he thrust open the door and hurried inside the apartment.
“Did you pick up Alex?” The school would have called him when she hadn’t showed. Wouldn’t they? He’d given his name and his cell phone number.
“The chief is picking him up,” Jared replied as he dropped onto his knees in front of her. “Are you okay?”
“Are you?” Blaine asked. “You just said the chief is playing nanny.”
Rebecca’s stomach lurched. Alex was usually shy around strangers, especially men. And from Blaine’s tone, she discerned the chief wasn’t exactly warm and fuzzy. “We should go get him.”
“Chief Lynch will bring Alex here,” Jared said. “Why didn’t you two pick him up? What happened?” He turned toward Blaine and glared at his friend. “Why didn’t you pick up your damn phone?”
Blaine patted his pocket. “I may have dropped my phone back at the boutique.”
“What the hell happened?” Jared asked again. He turned back to her. “And what the hell were you doing at a boutique?”
“I needed a dress for Dalton Reyes’s wedding,” Rebecca explained. “It was a dress boutique.” She knew what he was thinking—what he was worrying about. “Not a bridal boutique.”
But still, someone had attacked her in the dressing room. Or had she attacked him? She touched the back of her head and winced again.
“You’re hurt,” he said. And his fingers replaced hers, rubbing over the bump beneath her hair.
Despite her fear and shock, she reacted to his touch—to his fingers in her hair. And his closeness...
He was so close that she could feel his breath on her face. She could see the muscle twitch in his cheek from his tightly clenched jaw. He was so handsome.
Would this attraction ever lessen? Would her skin ever stop tingling when he touched her?
“It’s just a bump,” she assured him.
“You could have a concussion,” he said.
She shook her head. “I never blacked out.” Although she had seen stars for a moment. “And I’m not nauseous. It’s not a concussion.”
“I tried to take her to the hospital,” Blaine said. “But she refused.”
“Because I know it’s not a concussion.” She’d treated enough head injuries in the ER that she would have recognized had it been a concussion.
Jared turned toward his friend again and studied him through narrowed eyes. “You were supposed to protect her. How did she get hurt?”
Blaine shook his head. “I don’t know how it happened. I checked the dressing room before I let her go back. There was nobody back there.”
Jared cursed, but then he turned back to her. “Somebody tried grabbing you in the dressing room?”
“Somebody grabbed me,” Rebecca replied.
Jared’s neck swiveled toward Blaine again. “How? Where were you?”
“He couldn’t go into the dressing room with me,” she said. “And he checked it before I went inside.”
“Nobody was back there,” Blaine reiterated.
“So what happened?”
“I heard something,” she said. “I thought it was just the clerk coming back. Then the lights went out.” Her voice cracked as, in her mind, she returned to the dressing room and that moment of sheer terror when she’d thought the Butcher was going to abduct her. “And someone grabbed me, pressing a hand over my mouth so I couldn’t scream.”
She hadn’t been able to call out for help.
“The power had gone off in the whole store,” Blaine said. “But just in the store. There were lights on across the street.”
“So you knew something was up and got to her in time?”
Blaine regretfully shook his head. “No, she fought off the attacker herself. I never even got a look at him. That’s why I better get back down to the store. I’ll get the security footage from all the cameras in the area.” He patted his empty pocket. “I also have to find my phone.”
The minute the door closed behind Agent Campbell, Jared focused on Rebecca again. His hand gently cupped her face. Were his hands shaking slightly? Was he that upset?
“Are you really all right?” he asked. And he stared intently into her eyes—as if he could see what she had seen—what she had endured.
She wasn’t all right. She was shaking—scared and mad. But she nodded and lied. “I’m fine.”
“Did you see anything?” Jared asked. “Anything that might help us identify him?”
“It was too dark,” she said. “So dark that I couldn’t see anything at all.” And that was the reason for most of her frustration. She had been so close...but she had learned nothing.
“Did you notice anything else at all?” he asked. “A smell? His height? His build?”
She furrowed her brow as she realized something. “I don’t think he was that tall. I head-butted him to get away. That’s how I got the bump on the back of my head.”
“And if he was that much taller than you, you wouldn’t have hit his head,” Jared said.
But then she shrugged. “I don’t know, though. He was leaning down and whispering...”
“Did you recognize his voice?” he asked.
“I think it was the person who’s been calling me,” she said. That must have been why the voice had seemed familiar.
“It didn’t sound like anyone else you’ve heard?” Jared persisted.
He obviously had a suspect in mind. For the Butcher...
She shook her head then, flinched as the throbbing intensified to pain.
“We can’t risk your safety again,” Jared said. “We’re going to have to move you to a safe house—somewhere nobody can get to you—until the killer is caught.”
“No,” she protested as panic pressed on her lungs, stealing away her breath. She’d already given up her home—her job, her routine. “I can’t be locked up for six years.”
Jared flinched now.
“I’m sorry,” she said. He already blamed himself for all the murders since Lexi’s; she shouldn’t have added to his guilt. “I’m sorry. I know you’re only trying to protect me.”
She just wished she knew why. Because he was a lawman? Because of Alex? Or beca
use he loved her?
“You’re in danger,” he said.
“That’s what he said,” she shared. “When he grabbed me, he said, ‘Look how easily I got to you.’”
Jared cursed.
“Then he said, ‘You’re in danger. You have to be more careful.’” And then she realized why she’d gotten away from him so easily. “It’s not him...”
Jared uttered a ragged sigh of relief. “You wouldn’t have gotten away if it was him,” he agreed. “It wasn’t the Butcher.”
“Then who is it?” she wondered. “Who keeps calling me and warning me to be careful?”
Jared tensed again. “I hope it’s not him. But it has to be. And he let you get away because he’s just toying with you—scaring you for his entertainment.”
Like Harris Mowery showing up at her house. She was right about him; she had to be right about him killing Lexi.
“Then why did he let me go?” She wasn’t that strong. She wouldn’t have broken away from him if he’d really intended to abduct her.
“Because you’re not getting married...”
Apparently, Jared hadn’t been tempted to ask her. He hadn’t loved her six years ago. And he didn’t love her now. Maybe that was a good thing—because until the killer was caught, she would never be able to get engaged. Because the minute she had a ring on her finger, she would be dead.
Chapter Twelve
Jared’s hands shook as he straightened his bow tie, and sweat beaded on his upper lip. He couldn’t breathe—in the windowless groom’s dressing room. And worse yet, he couldn’t see. He couldn’t see outside the room to make sure that Becca and Alex were safe.
He wasn’t the only nervous man in the groom’s dressing room. Dalton Reyes’s usual cocky nonchalance was gone. His hands shaking, he fumbled with his bow tie and cursed.
“Should’ve got a damn clip-on,” he grumbled.
Jared smacked his hands away and tied the bow. “And that’s why you picked me for best man.”
“Actually, I had no idea if you knew how to tie a bow tie,” Dalton said.