The plane jerked, the turbulence getting heavier. Over the intercom, the pilot announced a seatbelt warning and asked the flight attendants to sit down. Lindsey lifted her head, confusion in her eyes. “I hate when it gets bumpy,” she admitted as she gripped the arms of her seat, knuckles going white.
Mark gave her a comforting smile. “Ah, now, you know that planes are tough. They can take more than people would ever imagine possible.” He slid his hand on her knee and gave it a light squeeze. She swallowed hard, nodding. The plane jerked a couple times in a row, and her face was etched with unspoken fear. “Talk to me and keep your mind off the plane,” he told her.
Her lips were thin, her jaw tense. “About what?”
He wanted to know about the place she called home. “Tell me about Washington.”
She shrugged and then grimaced as a heavy bump shook the plane. “There’s not much to tell.”
“Have you ever met the President?”
“Yeah, I’ve met him.”
“And?” he asked, surprised she hadn’t said more.
“Nothing to tell,” she said. “I was on a special task force that got up close and personal. It was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of opportunity.”
Mark looked at her, searching her face, praying he wasn’t going to lose her to her job in Washington. “You like your job there?” he asked but almost didn’t want to hear the answer.
“If you would have asked me that a month ago I would have said yes, but—”
“But what, baby?” he asked, quietly encouraging her.
She gnawed her bottom lip. “I don’t know what I want anymore,” she admitted, seeming to fight a bit of confusion. “Did you ever doubt your decision to leave Paxton?”
The plane jerked and Lindsey jumped, letting a little yelp escape her lips. Mark couldn’t hold back a small chuckle. She glared at him. “Don’t laugh at me, damn it. I hate this.”
He held his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m not, I swear. You’re just cute like this.”
Lindsey shot him an angry look. “Like this?” she asked in question. “Like what?”
A slight smile played on his lips. “I think it’s adorable that you are afraid of flying.”
Lindsey rolled her eyes. “I am not afraid of flying,” she said between her teeth. “I simply don’t like turbulence.” The plane jerked again and Lindsey grabbed her seat arms, shooting Mark a warning look. “There’s a big difference.”
Mark smirked. “If you say so, sweetheart.”
“Ohhhhhh,” she growled. “Anyway, you didn’t answer my question. Did you know you wanted to leave Paxton with absolute certainty?”
Mark’s expression grew serious as he thought about her question. It was time to tell her about the past. “I didn’t want to leave, Lindsey. Your father gave me no option.”
Her eyes filled with a million questions. “I offered to buy your father out.” Mark held up a hand. “Nothing hostile about it, I promise.” He paused to see her reaction. When she nodded her understanding, he continued, “We agreed on the financial aspect of things, but when it came to other things, it got hairy.”
“What other things?”
“He wanted certain partners guaranteed certain things,” Mark said grimly. “I couldn’t do it. The partners in question were ones I didn’t even want to keep around.”
Lindsey understood. “So what happened? Did you pull out or did he?”
Mark put two fingers to his temple. “I did. We argued. It got nasty, and I just finally had enough.”
“I see,” Lindsey said. “So you wanted Paxton.”
Mark eyed her, trying to understand what motivated her words. “I thought I did, but when I left⎯it felt right.” He paused, thinking back on the past. “When it came down to it, I decided Paxton wasn’t supposed to be a part of my future. When you showed up on my doorstep, it was hard to fathom returning.”
“And now?” she asked.
Her short questions were making him nervous. How was she feeling about him and the past? Had Edward planted ideas in her head? “All I know is how important you’ve become to me, Lindsey.” He took her hand. “I came back for you and no other reason. I want you to know that with certainty. I need to know you believe me.”
Lindsey looked into his eyes, and he saw her soften, yet she didn’t reach out to him. “I know. I believe you.”
He’d hoped she’d say more. He stared at her, searching for any underlying feelings. Finally, he said, “Good.” Forcing himself to sit back in his seat, to not press her, he closed his eyes. Her walls were still there, and as many times as he had promised himself he’d be patient, he wasn’t feeling it at that very moment.
An hour later, air laced with a tension that had seemed to sprout out of nowhere, they were in his car, heading towards his apartment. “Mark, where are we going?”
He stared at the road as he answered. “To my place.”
She cleared her throat. “Aren’t you forgetting to take me home?”
He peered at her from the corner of his eye. “No, I’m not. I have no intention of taking you home.”
She slapped her hands in her lap. “Mark, I have no clothes. I need to go home.”
His response was immediate and clipped. “We’ll go by in the morning.”
“I don’t want to have to deal with it in the morning.” Her voice was sharp.
He wanted to insist, to bully her, to do anything possible to get her to do things his way. He counted in his head, willing himself to calm. This was Lindsey. Pushing would get him further away from her. They pulled to a stoplight, and he turned to her, a soft plea in his voice. “I don’t want to give you up for the night, Lindsey.”
He watched her expression go from anger to understanding. “I need clothes,” she said softly.
“We can either go get your stuff and take it to my place or I can stay at yours.”
Lindsey smiled, laughing with her defeat, but clearly not unhappy about it. “Fine, your place. Mine doesn’t have much since it’s temporary.”
Her words took a bit of his satisfaction. He didn’t want New York to be anything but permanent for her. “It’s settled then. We will get your clothes and you will come home with me.”
“Okay.”
Mark took her hand and raised it to his lips, kissing it softly. “Thank you.” And then he added, “I would never have done your father wrong.”
She looked at him, her eyes wide. “I know that.”
“But yet you’ve barely spoken to me since I told you about the firm.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s not you. I just hate the way things are with my father. He’s on my mind.”
Mark reached over and took her hand. “He’ll be okay.”
“I hope so.”
He knew there was something else. “What is it, Lindsey?”
She looked at her lap. “Just trying to figure out what to do with the firm. That’s now clear as day.”
“It’ll work out,” he said, because it was better than nothing.
He didn’t know what to say to her. Yes, he did.
Stay.
* * * * *
The minute Lindsey walked into her apartment she knew someone had been in it. She stopped dead in her tracks just inside the foyer, making Mark run into the back of her.
“Hey, what are you doing?” His hands went to her shoulders to keep from knocking her down.
“Someone has been in here.” The phone calls were back in her mind. Was it the same person who had been in her house? Worse, could it . . . She cut off the thought, afraid to even think it in her head. No. It wasn’t. This was New York. Anyone could have broken into her place.
“What?” he asked in amazement. “How can you know?”
Lindsey shot him a look. “I make my living knowing things like this.”
Mark held his hands up. “Sorry,” he said. “Let me rephrase.” But he didn’t. “How do you know?”
“One, I smell cologne.” She shivered. The
thought of someone being in her apartment made her hair stand on end. She moved to the table a few steps away and pulled out the drawer, removing her gun, which she had left behind. She hadn’t wanted to deal with it at the airport.
“Shit,” Mark said. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“Checking it out,” she said shooting him a reproachful look.
“Give me the damn gun and stand outside,” he ordered.
“No, Mark—”
He glared at her. She glared at him. “This is not up for discussion, Lindsey. Give me the damn gun, and don’t you dare ask if I know how to use it.”
Lindsey stared at him and then finally handed him the gun. She didn’t doubt he could handle the weapon. She just didn’t like having to let him. If he had been anyone else, she wouldn’t have. “I’m not happy about this.”
Mark took the gun. “I’ll be back. Don’t move.”
“You’re two seconds from me taking the gun back.”
He turned without saying another word, walking towards the other room. Lindsey could barely stand waiting on him, and was about a second from going after him, when he returned. “Well?”
“It’s all clear,” he said, “but you’re right, someone was in your bedroom. Better call the police.”
Lindsey stared at him. “What does that mean?” He looked like he didn’t want to tell her, appearing to stall as he handed her back her gun. She put it in her purse. Something told her she wanted it near. “Mark? Are you going to answer me?”
He let out a loud breath. “Your sheets are rumpled and lingerie is flung everywhere.”
Lindsey could feel the color drain out of her cheeks. “What?” she gasped.
Mark’s tone was grim. “You said you smelled cologne? Is it familiar?”
Lindsey nodded, still trying to make this all seem real in her mind. “But I can’t place it.”
Mark put his hand on her back and urged her to step into the apartment. “Call Steve and have him come over.” Then he had a better thought. “Why don’t I call him and you sit down and get your bearings back.”
“I’m fine really. This doesn’t seem real.” On second thought, “But yeah, okay, you call Steve.”
She followed Mark into the living room and sat down. She was thankful she had let Mark search her place. Finding the bed a mess firsthand might have been too much. Something inside her was certain this wasn’t some freak break-in. This was about the phone calls . . . . and about Hudson.
She knew it was him, the killer, the rapist: the crazy man who had invaded her life in far too many ways.
The realization hit her like a two by four. Her insides felt like they started to shake, and she felt a coldness creep into her limbs, taking over her mind. She hardly remembered giving Mark the number to call Steve. The deep rumble of Mark’s voice as he spoke to Steve barely registered.
“He’s on his way.” Lindsey heard the words, but somehow they seemed to be in a tunnel, muffled and far away. Mark’s hand was on her leg, warm and comforting. “Lindsey?”
Jarring herself back to reality she blinked twice and then cleared her throat. “Ye . . .” She couldn’t quite get her voice back. “Yes?”
“Why do I know you’re not telling me something?” He was searching her face, his eyes probing.
Her mouth and lips were dry. She swallowed. “It’s just a feeling I have.”
“Talk to me. What feeling?”
She could barely get the words out. “It’s him.”
His response was to sit down beside her and pull her close. He held her, not saying a word, and she was so glad. Talking wouldn’t have helped right now. She needed to calm down first. They sat there for several long minutes before Mark spoke. “It’s not safe for you to stay alone.”
Lindsey looked up at him. “I was going home with you anyway.”
He looked down at her with concern etched in his every feature. His brown eyes burned with emotions so intense Lindsey could feel them like a touch of his hand. “Yes, but you can’t stay here alone until this guy is caught.”
Painfully, she accepted the truth. She was going to be under lock and key until this guy was caught. Between Mark and Steve, they would watch her like hawks. “I know.”
He took her hand in his and pressed her palm against his mouth. “I know how difficult this is for you. I want you to stay with me where I know I can keep you safe. On the other hand, I don’t want you to feel pressured—but you have to stay somewhere safe.”
Lindsey forced a smile. There was no question she wanted to be with him. “I’ll stay with you.”
A knock on the door had Mark pushing to his feet. Lindsey followed, eager to see Steve and start solving this. Just moving, getting into action, was helping her get herself pulled back together again.
Lindsey answered the door while Mark hung back a little. Steve greeted her with a strong hug that almost squeezed the air out of her chest. He was worried. With him was his partner Garth, and Lindsey waved to him over Steve’s shoulder.
“Hi Garth.” He had soft gray eyes, understanding and calm. She liked that about Garth. He was a good match for Steve. Both were good guys but with opposite demeanors. Garth tended to take things in, silent for the most part. Steve on the other hand was a jump-in and make-a-splash kind of guy. Not as extreme as Lindsey, but enough so that even when he complained about her off-the-wall tactics, he didn’t refuse to go along for the ride.
Steve pulled back. “You okay?”
Nodding, Lindsey said, “I’m fine.”
Mark had moved to stand directly behind Lindsey. He quickly introduced himself to Steve and Garth, sparing no time before getting down to business, filling them in on what he’d found. Within half an hour, Lindsey’s apartment had turned into a madhouse of activity.
Lindsey stood back, watching as items were dusted for prints and bagged.
Watching had her on edge. She felt as if her life was one big whirlwind she couldn’t control. When Steve and Mark asked her to go have coffee with them, she agreed. They needed to talk, and it would be easier someplace else. Garth was more than capable of seeing things through at her place.
Once they were at the coffee shop, she settled into a chair between Mark and Steve. Funny how Steve had once been the only man she trusted. Now she included Mark on her trust list.
“I just got assigned the Williams case,” Steve said, resting his foot on his knee. “The FBI was called in some time back, but it was considered a slam-dunk. The agent involved is heavy into another case right now. I asked some questions, got permission to look at the case a bit closer. So let’s compare notes.”
Lindsey told them about her field visits. “I think the owner of the Pink Panther is a good suspect.”
“Not the boyfriend?” Steve asked.
“Ex-boyfriend,” Lindsey amended, “and I’m not ruling him out. At this point, how can we rule anyone out?” She had an idea. “Seems to me we are in a position of power.”
Both men perked up. “How so?” Mark asked.
“I’m the trump card,” she said. “The perfect bait.”
Mark and Steve chimed in at the same time. “Oh, no.”
“No way,” Mark insisted. “Not even considering this option.”
“It makes sense,” Lindsey said firmly, refusing to have her idea dismissed. “I can’t sit around and wait to be attacked.” She glared at both men. “Correction, I won’t.”
Mark took a deep breath, his tension evident. “No way, Lindsey. We are not using you as bait.”
Steve cleared his throat. “Both of you, please, hear me out.” Dropping his leg off his knee to the floor, Steve leaned forward. “I called and spoke to a profiler on my way over here. I figured we are dealing with different circumstances than what we thought in the past. So I thought maybe some new insight was needed. The guy I talked to didn’t know the case, so I explained the general points.” Steve sighed. “He gave me his off-the-record opinion.” He hesitated, as if he wasn’t sure he should contin
ue.
“Well?” Lindsey prodded, suddenly feeling more anxious than before.
Steve’s face was grim. “He called this guy a ‘lust killer.’”
Lindsey wasn’t getting the point. “We knew that. He kills for the sexual high.”
“Right,” Steve said, “but you didn’t think that fit Hudson. At the time he wasn’t a killer.”
Lindsey nodded. “True.”
“The profiler said lust killers start out small, like Hudson raped and didn’t murder, but once they crossed the line, they get off on the thrill of the kill and can’t stop.”
“Which fits if we are dealing with one man,” Mark offered.
“We are,” Lindsey said with confidence.
“Okay, here’s where this gets sticky,” Steve said, eyeing Lindsey. “I asked about this fixation on you.”
“I wouldn’t call it a fixation,” she argued.
“It is,” Steve said, dismissing her words. “The profiler said it is common for the killer want to get involved with one of the investigators, often even giving them tips.”
“Because deep down they want to get caught, right?” Mark asked.
“Exactly,” Steve agreed. “The fact that Lindsey resembles the victims complicates matters. He may actually be confused about what he wants from her, using her as his link to the investigation and hunting her at the same time.”
“Hunting . . . do you have to use that word?” Lindsey asked.
“Candy-coating isn’t going to get us anywhere. I think you’re a target.”
Steve looked at Mark. “You won’t like this, but as I talk this through, I think using Lindsey as bait is an option. She’s already a walking, talking victim. Better to take this bull by the horns.”
“There has to be another way,” Mark said, his face etched with stress.
“Mark, this is a great opportunity to catch this guy before he kills again. God, every time I think about this thing being pushed under the rug and an innocent man being jailed, I get more and more livid.”
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