by J. L. Drake
Natalie sat up and frowned as she tucked her hair behind her ears.
“My midnight visitor could’ve been anyone,” she said slowly. “But I’ll still be careful.”
He imagined her as she had been the other night. At how scared she had been. Matt nodded. “Good.”
He made a mental note to arrange to have a vehicle drive by her house and office every hour just in case. He didn’t like the fact she had a late night visitor and with the profile they were uncovering it seemed more and more likely the Butcher might try and attack her and Matt wasn’t about to allow that. He had failed all the others since he had been unable to catch the man but he wasn’t about to let the Butcher anywhere near Natalie. The last thing he wanted was to find Natalie’s body on Doctor Stone’s autopsy table. He would do just about anything to prevent that. The thought of being unable to save her scared Matt to death.
He watched as Natalie pulled out Helen Teller’s file and flicked through it. The folder wasn’t as big as the others. The unsolved crime had little evidence to begin with and the trail, like all the others, had gone cold. He caught glimpses of the information printed on the paper as Natalie skimmed the sheets. He recognised the detailed statement from the officer first on the scene. He had read it enough times that he probably could’ve recited the whole thing.
Next up was the autopsy report identical to the others except for the sloppiness of his first kill. Even the detective working the case back in 1995 knew the killer was only starting out and wasn’t about to finish any time soon. He had even mentioned that fact in his reports but unfortunately for him, he had died before he found his man. Matt however wasn’t about to leave this case unfinished. He’d solve it from the grave if he had to. He only hoped it wasn’t necessary.
Natalie came to the end of the folder and her face contorted with horror as she took in the crime scene photos. Matt knew what she was thinking and feeling. He had felt exactly the same way when he had first viewed the crime scene photos. The murder had been particularly brutal. For someone the media had dubbed the Butcher that was saying something. He heard Natalie’s sharp intake of breath and the corresponding mutterings of revulsion before she pushed aside every photo but one and handed it to him.
Through the grainy pixels he could make out a child’s birthday party. The child was a boy of twelve and standing next to the boy was a tall man. Matt squinted, the features of the man looking vaguely familiar. He pushed the photo in front of Natalie’s face and pointed to the man.
“Does he look familiar to you?” he asked.
She took the photo from him and moved it back several inches from her face, her gaze zeroing in on the man. He watched as her face changed as recognition set in.
“Ian Walker,” she answered. “A very young Ian Walker. I’d say mid to late twenties. Most certainly before his political career, definitely before Missy. If he’d been stupid enough to cheat on her we would’ve heard about it by now.”
That was true. If there was one good thing about the media, it was that the secrets they needed to know had already been printed and in the age of the internet, nothing was sacred anymore.
“You were right. There’s a connection between Ian and Helen. They were lovers.”
“You don’t know that. They could be close friends,” Natalie said.
He gave her a look. Natalie ignored him as she flipped the photo over and read the scrawl on the back:
Harry’s twelfth birthday, 1994.
Matt took the picture from her and studied it thoughtfully.
“The son found her. He was only a teenager at the time. I wonder what happened to him. Looks like a nice kid.”
“I’d be surprised if he wasn’t locked away in a hospital. Finding that particular carnage at the place you assume you’re safe would damage anyone’s state of mind.”
Matt nodded. “Could be useful to speak with him. There’s little on the Teller murder, just a brief statement of events leading up to the discovery of the body.”
He pulled his mobile out from where it was attached to his belt and dialled a number. He looked back at her as he waited for the person on the other end to answer.
“Do you think you could talk to him—if he’s lucid, that is? See what he remembers like you did with Hallie?” he asked her.
“Of course but every person is different, it all depends on his mental capabilities and—”
Matt spoke into the phone, interrupting her.
“Yeah, Donovan, it’s Murphy. Do me a favour.” He asked her to locate Helen’s son and then explained what he hoped Natalie could accomplish with a sit down. “Donovan will find him,” he told her as he joined her on the floor after hanging up with Amelia. “The cops on scene barely talked to him let alone interviewed the kid. From all reports he was pretty shaken up, unable to verbalise much.”
“Do you think Helen’s son knows who killed her? Think maybe that’s why he’s not talking?” she asked.
“Why not? Hallie refused help because she was so terrified of the man. Fear can make people crazy,” he said. “All I know is that the Butcher knew Helen Teller more than he knew the others. She was special to him and she did something that set him off. As you saw, the rage was barely contained.”
“History has always taught us, it’s the ones closest to us that suffer. Helen Teller was the catalyst. She started all this. Whatever she did to piss this guy off opened something deep inside him and instead of finding closure at her death he found his calling.”
Matt nodded curtly. “Right. But we checked over and over. Double, even triple checked all our information. The original Detective talked to everyone she was in contact with.”
“Clearly not. There’s no record he ever spoke with Ian. If he missed him he could easily have missed someone else. What happened to Harry’s father?”
“Left when the kid was two, hasn’t been seen since.”
“So she was all he had?”
Matt stretched out his cramped legs. “Yep. Mother was an only child and no other relative ever came forward to claim him. Wish you never offered to help?” he asked when he saw her face.
Natalie shook her head. “No. Not when I know we can catch this guy. It may be long hours and hard work but it has its own rewards in the end.”
“What made you decide to become a psychologist?”
Natalie’s startled gaze jumped to his. He wondered at the reaction. Surely she had been asked the question before. For a long moment he thought she wasn’t going to answer.
“My stepfather was a violent man, an abuser. I still have scars, emotionally and physically. He beat me,” she revealed, her voice rough with emotion. “Actually, beat is the wrong adjective. He tortured me.”
Matt was frozen. Of all the things he’d thought she was hiding about her past, domestic violence had not been one of them. He felt sick at the idea of someone beating her, hurting the little girl she had once been. The thought of no one there to protect a young Natalie made him so angry. He reached out to touch her before jerking back and staring down at his hand. How many times had his hand become a fist? He wasn’t an overly violent man but he got angry on occasion and lashed out. He remembered all the times he’d been in a rage in her presence and felt the blood rush from his face.
“You look like you’re going to faint or throw up,” Natalie said with a small trace of humour in her voice. “That’s not the reaction I was expecting.”
“I was thinking of all the times I lost my temper around you. I’m so sorry, Natalie.”
She moved closer and placed a hand on his arm. “You don’t frighten me. In fact, I felt protected…safe in your presence. Even when that vein in your temple has throbbed in anger I’ve never been afraid. Don’t ever think that.”
He studied her face. “I’m glad. I never want to hurt you, Natalie. Never.”
She shivered. “I know that. I’ve always known that. Don’t be afraid to be yourself around me. I happen to like that person and you wouldn’t be him if you�
��re afraid of scaring me. I’m tougher than I look.”
His jaw clenched. “What happened to the bastard?”
“My stepfather? I have no idea. I ran away when I was twelve. Came here to Harbour Bay where my aunt and uncle lived. They gave me a home filled with love.”
“Are they still here?”
Her eyes filled with unshed tears. “No. They passed on a few years ago. To answer your earlier question it was because I wanted to be able to read someone so well that I saw the person they were beneath the surface, the real them.”
“To see into their souls?”
“In a way, yes. Psychology is known as the study of the soul. I had thought it was a way to protect myself. But I have had my fair share of misses. Derek, for instance.”
“Yeah, he was a big mistake,” he said lightly.
“It was during my first year in school that I fell in love with it and can’t imagine doing anything else.”
Matt touched her face softly. She looked into his eyes and he became breathless at the heat he saw. His stomach flipped and desire warmed his body. He glanced down at her lips, full and inviting and wondered what it would be like to press his own against hers, to taste her. The thought alone was driving him insane.
“It’s obvious you were born for it. Why would you want anything else?”
He imagined taking off her clothes, touching her naked skin. Did she feel as good as she looked? He desperately wanted to know what it felt like to have her lay beneath him, to feel himself inside of her.
“I want you,” she whispered.
Chapter 25
She watched his eyes widen as the whispered confession reached his ears. His hand stilled on her cheek. Natalie’s heart began to pound in her chest in anticipation. She had never felt so nervous in her entire life than in the few seconds it took for Matt’s lips to touch her own. The moment their lips joined, she felt an explosion of sensation. His tongue swept inside her mouth to glide across her own. She made a satisfied sound in her throat, grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him closer.
She was sure she had never felt anything like it. Sure, she hadn’t had a lot of experience with kisses and sex. Her distrust made it difficult to share something so intimate with another person but still Natalie was sure even Matt was surprised. She had felt his body tense in shock momentarily. It hadn’t lasted long, barely a second, but it had been telling.
From the moment she had met Matt he had changed her for the better. He stilled her fears. He made her feel strong and powerful. He made her want him and a relationship and all the little things in between that made life worth living. In her twenty-eight years she had never felt this fire inside her before and she was curious to see where tomorrow would lead.
It was a leap of faith, she realised. There were no promises being exchanged. No words of a future. There was only desire and need and that was enough for her. For now. She may regret her impulsiveness in the morning but tonight she wanted to live.
To feel.
Natalie felt raw from exposing her darkest and tightly held secret to him. But she had never felt better than she did now. Free. Vulnerable. Alive. Not once had she ever revealed her past to anyone but she hadn’t wanted to keep the truth from him. In that one moment, she had made a connection with Matt. Deeper than the turbulent emotions she was already feeling.
Natalie felt better knowing she had shared that little part of her history with him. After all, it was what had shaped the woman today. A part that was more intimate than even the act she was about to partake in. She felt naked with him, the wall she usually put up torn down by her words—her actions. She knew she was safe with him. The trust she had in him was staggering.
She didn’t question or second guess herself. She jumped with both feet.
Matt moved his lips from hers and trailed kisses down her throat, his tongue leaving the skin damp. Her lips felt deliciously swollen. She tilted her head back as Matt began the ascent back to her lips. Her nails dug into his shoulders, telling him silently that she wanted more. He sat up on his knees taking her with him, pulling her into his aroused body.
Would he be a gentle lover or a ravenous one?
Natalie gave a puff of delight before melting into his body. Her arms went around his neck and held tight, her breasts crushing into his chest. Boldly, surprised by her confidence and eagerness, Natalie let her hands slowly slide down his taut chest. She removed his shirt from his pants and placed her palms on his bare stomach, feeling the muscles beneath bunch in response. She smiled at the power she exerted over him.
“We really shouldn’t be doing this,” he murmured in her ear as she began to unbutton his shirt.
“A little late now,” she stated. They had been leading up to this since that first day in her office over a week ago, and each moment they had spent together, the fuse had gotten shorter and was now igniting in the most delicious way. “Besides, I don’t think anything short of the apocalypse could stop me.”
Matt smiled, his green eyes burning. “Me either. I just thought it my duty to mention that fact.”
She nodded. “Duly noted.”
She pushed his shirt away from his body and it dropped to the floor. Her lips were then suddenly on his chest kissing every available stretch of skin she found. Natalie had never felt so wanton before, so desperate. She never used to believe those who said sex could be mindless but now she had to admit she’d been wrong. Latent hormones were fuelling the passion she felt bubbling inside and she was enjoying every moment of it.
Natalie scraped her nails down his chest, over the light dusting of hair to his navel and below. She reached his belt buckle and began undoing it. Matt stilled her hands, an amused look on his face.
She felt like she had known Matt for years instead of just over a week. It felt right. She wanted this. She needed this. Her body was tense and screaming for release. She had never been at its mercy before and desperately wanted to ease the tight tension that had overtaken her body.
“First something of yours has to go,” he whispered as he tugged on the hem of her navy blouse. She dutifully raised her arms and he removed her shirt. His gaze went to her lacy red bra and he grinned.
“Not something I would have expected from you, Doctor Miller,” he said, his finger tracing the edge of her bra.
Fire ignited and swept through her body. She kissed him again, hard and unbridled, her hands on his stubbled face. Matt ran his thumb over her left nipple, teasing it to a hard peak before moving on to the right one. Natalie reached down again to his belt buckle and yanked on it hard, and as if sensing her desperation it opened in her hands. She lowered his zipper and took him into her palm. He was impossibly hard, straining for release, and she heard Matt moan as she let her fingers trail down the length of him.
His hips instinctively jerked and she revelled in the knowledge that she gave him such pleasure. Matt reached around her and undid the clasp to her bra before pitching it across the room. He took her breasts in his palms and lightly squeezed them. She moved closer to him, unable to stand being even a few inches away. She needed the contact of his skin against her own otherwise she was liable to go stark raving mad. She kissed his shoulder, his throat, anywhere she could get at him. He chuckled as he pushed her gently to the floor and covered her body with his. Matt’s hand went to the zipper on her black dress pants and slowly removed both her pants and underwear at the same time. She squirmed beneath him, her hands gliding over his muscular back and down to his buttocks.
Her body vibrated with need. Why was he taking his time? She raised her hips, grinding herself into him, his shaft resting at her entrance. She let out a frustrated breath, the apex of her thighs throbbing relentlessly, aching for his entry.
“What are you waiting for?” she huffed.
“Impatient, are we?” he replied, humour in his voice.
She bit him on the shoulder with just enough pressure to elicit some pain.
“Yes,” she ground out. She wanted him inside h
er now.
Matt reached into his back pocket and produced a foil wrapper and promptly rolled the condom onto himself. It was a good thing he still had control of his facilities. Protection had not even entered her mind and she realised just how far gone she was. She kissed him. Thanking him and urging him on at the same time.
Matt took hold of her hips and held her still as he made his way inside her, stretching her unaccustomed body. She forgot to breathe as he filled her so completely. She felt whole. As if she had always been waiting for him to come into her life. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he began to move within her. Natalie raised her hips to meet his thrusts and soon they were both catapulting into the unknown, screaming the other’s name before collapsing into an exhausted heap on the floor.
Chapter 26
The door opened beneath his fingertips. He pocketed the spare key she kept under the small frog in her garden as he slipped inside her house. It was sleek, all chrome and glass. The furniture untouched and impractical, certainly not comfortable enough to sit on but it looked great in photos such as the Woman’s Weekly spread. He heard footfalls to his right and stalked silently towards the bedroom.
She walked past him brushing her golden mane, her body clad in only a towel. He watched her for a moment. She had no idea how close to death she was. It was amusing. Soon, her face would be so full of fear, then pain. Then there would be nothing. Her back was to him as she discarded the towel and slid the silk nightgown over her Pilate-toned body. If he had been any other man the view would’ve enticed him, but sex held little interest to him. His appetite was for other activities. The Butcher took a step, reached out, and grabbed her. He placed a hand over her mouth quickly, blocking any screams she might have let out.
An hour later, she was dead.
Chapter 27
As the early morning sun shined through the slits in the venetian blinds of Matt’s bedroom, Natalie woke. She stretched out in the big queen size bed. For the first time in a long while she was relaxed. She felt so different. Somehow better. It was a silly thought but nonetheless true. She had never once let her guard down like she had last night when she’d offered up her embarrassing and painful past.