by Tee O'Fallon
The doorknob jiggled then went silent. Heavy pounding rattled the door.
“No one can save you but me,” the killer snarled, although there was a sense of peace and acceptance in his eyes. He raised his arm again—the one holding the knife. Her heart hammered, and she gasped for air. “Our Father, God, who art in heaven…”
The doorknob rattled again, quieter this time. She tightened her muscles, preparing to ram her knee into his groin when he shoved her roughly backward, slamming her head against the concrete wall.
Pain wracked her skull. Her vision clouded, but not so much that she couldn’t see him advancing on her.
“All hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done.”
She gulped and stared into a set of soulless eyes. I’m not ready to die.
Dayne, please. Hurry.
Then she screamed.
…
Dayne dropped the credit card he’d used to open the locked door and yanked his Glock from the holster. Kat’s scream echoed inside, and his heart nearly stopped beating.
He turned the knob, ramming his shoulder against the thick metal door. It wouldn’t open. He re-holstered, using all his weight on the door. Finally, it creaked open and crashed inward against the concrete wall.
Mauser snarled, releasing Kat then lunging at Dayne. Remy leaped, latching onto Mauser’s forearm. The knife fell to the floor.
Dayne rammed his fist into the guy’s face. Bones cracked—Mauser’s.
The man went down and when he tried to rise, Dayne pummeled his face again and again, holding him up by the shirt so he couldn’t fall back to the floor.
“Dayne! Dayne!”
He jerked his head to the sound of Kat’s voice. Was she hurt? Still gripping Mauser’s bloody shirt, he searched her face and body for injuries, seeing none. Then he looked at Mauser, whose bloody, mashed-in face was nearly unrecognizable. He released the guy’s shirt. The back of Mauser’s head hit the floor with a solid whack.
Outside, footsteps pounded. Uniformed police, guns drawn, crowded into the bunker.
“FBI.” Dayne adjusted his position to reveal the badge on his belt so the responding officers wouldn’t mistakenly think he was the perp and unload their guns on him.
“You good here?” one of the cops asked, warily eying Mauser’s bloody, still form.
“Yeah,” he answered. “We’re good.” All things considered. His hands shook, his body still so amped up on pure rage he could barely think straight.
Another cop called on the radio for an ambulance while others began securing the scene.
Kat crawled to the other side of the room and gathered Angus in her arms. At first, the pup didn’t move. Remy padded to Kat and nudged Angus with her snout, licking the puppy’s face.
“Please wake up, Angus. Wake up!” Tears streamed down her face.
She’s alive.
Dayne took his first easy breath in hours, although it was an unsteady one, to be sure. He wanted to haul her into his arms but stopped himself. Touching her again would be too painful and would only rekindle something that needed to burn out.
You gotta let her go, man.
The puppy’s head moved, and he began wriggling in Kat’s arms. Her laugh came out on a sob. That’s when he noticed it. The trickle of blood oozing slowly from a cut on her neck. That motherfucker hurt her.
He clamped his jaw. It was all he could do not to prop Mauser up and beat the shit out of him all over again.
Kneeling, he touched his fingers to Kat’s neck to inspect the wound. Touching her again warred with his resolve, but he had to stay strong. For both of them. With no small effort, he forced his emotions back into that deep, dark hole he’d stashed them in. “Are you alright?” He knew he wasn’t because he was choking on his own heart.
When she lifted her head, he feasted on her beautiful eyes. “I’m fine. Thanks to you.”
He cleared his throat then tugged a packet of tissues from his thigh pocket, gently pressing one of them against her neck. Luckily, the cut wasn’t as deep as he’d initially worried it was. “Hold this here and keep a light pressure on it.”
When she did, their fingers brushed and the instinct—no, need—to hold her, kiss her, and tell her he’d never leave her again became unbearable.
“Sir?” Two EMTs crowded in. “Can you give us some room to work? We need to check her out.” Without waiting, one of them knelt and began inspecting Kat’s wound, effectively pushing him away.
They were right. Her medical condition trumped his need to stick close. Still…
“Dayne!” Paulson rushed into the bunker, his eyes bugging as he looked at Mauser. “Holy shit. Guess I missed all the action. How ’bout filling me in? My chief wants an update.”
With a hand that still shook, Dayne touched Kat’s cheek. “You’re safe now.”
She looked up at him, her eyes brimming with gratitude and the same sadness eating him alive.
“Make sure she’s okay,” he said to one of the cops then stood and pointed to Mauser. “I don’t care how bloody he is. Cuff him.” He waited until Mauser was securely restrained with handcuffs.
It about killed him not to look at Kat one last time. Somehow, he managed. His heart slowed to a dull thud, and he walked out the door.
Chapter Thirty
Two weeks. Two long, lonely weeks and no word from Dayne. Not that she really expected him to contact her. There was nothing more to be said.
Taking a deep breath, Kat touched up her lipstick in the private powder room. A thin red line remained on her neck from where Mauser had cut her. Looking at it day after day brought a tightness to her chest. Like her broken heart, it might never heal completely.
Music from the ballroom thumped through the walls. Happy birthday to me. Birthday, yes. Happy, no.
Despite her protests, Colin had insisted she attend the party he’d been planning for months. So much had gone into the black-tie event that she didn’t have the heart to cancel. The only way she’d agreed to attend was if her friends—her real friends—came, too. Emily, Francine, Walter, Kevin, and Fiona had given her the support she’d needed.
She plucked a tissue from the box on the counter and dabbed at her lips. The person staring back at her from the mirror was a stranger. She might look the same, regaled in a glittery gold evening gown and yellow diamonds, but her soul would never be the same. Dayne had done that. He’d shown her what it was to love someone so deeply, and with such absolute fervency, that no one else could ever take their place.
Before he’d come into her life, her world had become a prison. He’d changed that, made her want to experience life again outside the walls she’d been hiding behind.
Had she really driven him away? Not intentionally. Perhaps she had said or done things to make him believe he would never fit into her over-the-top life. It didn’t matter. He was the one who thought he didn’t belong with her. As long as he believed that, they could never be happy together. Above all else, she wanted that for him. Happiness. She loved him that much. Enough to let him go. But with each passing day, her heart broke a little more. Maybe he really had spared them both more pain.
If only things could have been different. If only…
The tightness in her chest worsened. There was no sense weeping over if onlys.
At least Christian Mauser, whose real name she’d learned from Detective Paulson was Robert Fulbright, would never hurt another living soul. At a minimum, the man would be behind bars in New Jersey for the rest of his life. First-degree murder charges in Oregon could get him the death penalty.
With his jaw wired shut from the injuries he’d received at the end of Dayne’s fist, he’d asked for a priest then confessed everything. Eighteen years ago, he murdered his entire family, waiting for each of them to return home one day from work, college, high school, then coldly slit their throat
s. In his confession, he claimed they were failing God, had lost their way, and he’d killed them to save their souls.
Apparently, Fulbright had planned those murders in excruciating detail and had set up a new life for himself in Minnesota. A few false identity documents and voilà, he was Christian Mauser. Eventually, he married and moved to New Jersey, where he began his new life—until Rebecca Garman figured out who he really was.
Mauser had seen Rebecca taking his picture. He’d confronted her and killed her before realizing she’d hidden the camera’s memory card in Angus’s chew toy. Media coverage of her holding Angus outside Becca’s office the day she found the body was a roadmap to where Angus was—at the Canine Haven. Mauser had gone there in search of the chew toy. She and Amy were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. When Kat glimpsed Mauser’s face that night, she became a target he had to eliminate.
If Dayne and Remy hadn’t found her in time… She shuddered at what would have been her fate. Even Angus might not have lived.
Angus had suffered a slight concussion from being thrown against the wall, but he’d recovered nicely and was now a permanent part of her household. Rebecca Garman’s husband had given Angus to her, saying the pup had been his wife’s, and having him around would remind him too much of his loss.
The only good news over the last two weeks was that Beth and the security guards would recover. She’d sent them flowers and visited them in the hospital several times.
After capping her lipstick, she dropped the tube back into the gold box on the vanity, plastered on a pathetically wan smile, and headed back to the party.
The first thing that hit her was the gaiety. Music, laughter, and dancing. She so didn’t feel it. The next thing she noticed was the gift table. In the last ten minutes, the stack of wrapped boxes had grown by at least two feet. Expensive, extravagant gifts she didn’t want or need.
A champagne flute appeared in her hand. The urge for something stronger welled up inside her. “Wait,” she called to the waitress. “Can you dig me up some of that Chivas Royal Salute? Neat,” she added. Wouldn’t want to water down liquid gold.
“Of course, Miss Vandenburg.” The young woman took the flute and disappeared into the crowd.
“Happy birthday, Kat.” Walter kissed her on the cheek, as did Emily, Francine, Kevin, and Fiona, who joined them just as the waitress reappeared with her glass of Chivas.
“Thank you.” She clinked glasses with her friends and took a sip of the fifty-year-old scotch. The whisky slid down her throat to her belly, leaving a soothing warmth in its wake. Just what she needed. A little numbness.
Walter continually flicked his eyes to the ballroom doors where several men in tuxedos milled about.
“I must say”—she glanced from Walter to Kevin—“you both look exceedingly dashing in black tie.”
“Thanks.” Kevin grinned and waggled his eyes at Fiona. “Told ya.”
Fiona made a choking noise in her throat. “That tux has gone straight to his head. He’ll probably wear it tomorrow morning while he’s cleaning out cages.”
“Ladies,” Kat said, “might I add that you look equally stunning?”
“You didn’t have to buy us these dresses.” Emily fingered the beaded strap of her blue silk evening gown.
“Nonsense. It was my pleasure.” Again, she caught Walter eying the doors. “Looking for someone?”
“No.” Walter chuckled. “Just comparing cummerbunds.”
They all laughed, and for the first time that night, Kat thought she might actually survive the party.
Loud clinking came from the front of the ballroom. Colin stood on the dais, tapping a knife on the side of his glass.
The worst part of the party was about to commence. Standing in front of two hundred guests and pasting on more smiles she didn’t feel in the slightest.
“Katrina,” Colin called out. “Would you please come up here?”
The ballroom quieted. Heads turned her way.
“You can do this, Kat,” Emily whispered.
“Right. I can do this.” Suck it up. She walked to the stage, setting her glass on a nearby table, when what she really wanted was to chug the contents in one very un-ladylike slurpy gulp.
At the top step, Colin took her hand then set his glass down on the Baby Grand piano. Oh, faux pas. One did not do that to a Baby Grand. He clasped her shoulders as he leaned in to kiss her on the lips. As always, she presented her cheek. A hint of annoyance lit his eyes as he reached for his drink.
“Katrina.” He raised his glass, as did everyone in the room. “Happy birthday.”
“Happy birthday!” came two hundred voices, followed by applause.
Thank god they hadn’t sung the happy birthday song. Yet. That would probably come right before the cutting of that tasteless, five-tiered cake taking up an entire table in a corner of the ballroom. It couldn’t hold a candle to one of Francine’s or Lily’s cakes. Even Dayne’s cookie sandwiches would be preferable.
“I’d like to give you my gift first.” He set the flute back on the shiny black piano then pulled a small velvet box from his jacket pocket.
No. Oh hell no.
“Colin, don’t,” she whispered loud enough for him to hear. “I know I made myself clear. I can’t do this with you. Ever.” She reached out to stop him before he opened the box, but he ignored her and went down on one knee, flipping open the lid. She groaned, experiencing a dropping sensation in the pit of her stomach. Gasps came from the crowd. This was worse than she could possibly have imagined.
Over the past two weeks the rift between her and Colin had grown, but embarrassing him in front of two hundred people wasn’t her style. Then again, he’d done this to himself.
“Katrina, will you marry me?”
She opened her mouth to politely, yet firmly, reject his offer when a deep voice boomed from the ballroom doors.
“No. She won’t.”
Dayne!
Her heart fluttered, and her insides began tingling so much her entire body seemed to vibrate with hopeful energy. She could barely breathe. He’s really here.
He shoved one hand in his tuxedo pants pocket. In his other hand was a gift-wrapped package. Remy and Angus sat on either side, each wearing white bows around their collars.
“At least,” he continued, “not until I give her my gift.”
Everyone watched as he strode past the tables. Whispers accompanied his progress as he wended his way through the crowd that parted in his path.
“Is that a dog?” someone said. “I didn’t think you could bring a dog in here.”
“Katrina!” Colin reached for her, his face livid.
She evaded him and met Dayne at the bottom of the stairs.
“You’re not on the guest list,” Colin hissed from the dais.
“I invited him.” Walter beamed a thousand-watt smile at Kat, one that thoroughly explained his surreptitious glances at the ballroom doors.
She wanted to kiss the old man then yell at him for keeping her in the dark.
“What are you doing here?” Her heart raced as she gave him her first genuine smile of the evening. God, he was handsome. “What are you all doing here?” She reached down to pet Remy and Angus.
“We came to give you your birthday present.” One side of his mouth quirked as he handed her the gift. She took it but couldn’t tear her gaze from his and the love shining in his eyes. At least, she hoped that’s what it was. “Open it.”
She turned the gift over and slipped her fingers beneath the tape. As the beautiful gold foil paper parted, she gasped, letting the wrapping fall to the floor. The cover of the book was pristine. Dogs of Character, by Cecil Aldin.
Gently, she opened the book and her jaw dropped. A first edition, 1927 and signed by the author. “Ohhh,” she breathed. The very book her father had searched for and never
found. Her heart blossomed with so much love she thought it would burst from her chest. “You remembered.”
“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Turn to the next page.”
She did and saw he’d inserted a handwritten note. She read the words three times. Just to be certain she wasn’t dreaming.
I love you with every breath I take. Forgive me? Dayne.
Her throat constricted with worry. The words were incredibly beautiful, but she couldn’t take it if he left her again. “I don’t understand. What’s changed in the last two weeks?”
“First, I flew to Oregon to help out the authorities there. After that, I talked with my friends and family. I needed time to sort things out in my head.”
“Did you?” She held her breath.
He nodded. “You and I are different. This won’t be easy. There’ll be a helluva lot of compromises to be made by both of us, but I want to find a way to bridge our worlds. I love you too much not to. Are you still willing to see where this takes us?” The warmth and sincerity in his eyes filled her with so much promise, hope, and elation she could barely keep from flinging her arms around his neck.
She nodded back, slowly at first, then more vigorously as tears slid from the corners of her eyes. “Yes.” If that’s what it took, she’d make compromises every day for the rest of her life.
“I’ll do anything for you.” He framed her face with his hands. “I love you.”
She smiled and her body trembled with joy. “I love you, too.”
He kissed her. Right there in front of a gasping crowd.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Colin hissed.
Clapping came from nearby. Dayne ended the kiss in time for her to see her friends clapping enthusiastically. Kevin whistled loudly and then the entire crowd joined in.
“Whatdya say we get out of here?” he whispered against her ear.
“Sounds like a plan,” she whispered back.
He swung her into his arms and carried her through the cheering crowd. Remy and Angus trotted after them, with her friends in tow.
Moments later, they were all standing in front of a cream-colored stretch limo she didn’t recognize. The driver opened the passenger door, and Dayne herded the dogs inside.