Danger Signals

Chapter 10

Once again Wade drove with the window down, one-handed, elbow on the sill and his hand across the lower part of his face. For once, though, Tierney didn't mind that he was walling himself off from her in every way he could.

Although she didn't blame him for it, she was still shaky from that terrible blast of emotion he'd hit her with. It had been the worst thing she'd ever experienced, all the horror of the crime scenes and the killer's twisted mind amplified a thousand times by Wade's own rage and fear.

Fear of what might happen… to me.

It wasn't until she realized they were heading in the wrong direction for downtown that she summoned the will and courage to attempt to penetrate that wall. It took her one abortive try and a throat-clearing before she was able to ask, "Are you taking me to pick up my car?"

He moved his hand, cleared gravel from his own throat. He glanced at her. then back forward, and after a long pause, shook his head. "No. Your car stays where it is until impound can get it under lock and key. In the meantime, I'm going to be driving you wherever you need to go. As of about fifteen minutes ago. you are under twenty-four-hour police protection. I, or someone on the task force, is going to be with you 'round the clock. Understand?" He threw her another look, this one as hard and grim as any she'd ever seen from him. "No arguments."

"I wasn't going to give you any." Tierney said quietly. "But I do think I deserve to know why. I know you found something in that house. Something terrible. Something you don't want to tell me about." She laughed shakily. "Trust me, Wade, nothing you tell me could possibly be worse than what I've been imagining."

The side of his face she could see formed an ironic smile. "I keep forgetting you don't read minds." There was another long pause, then an exhalation.

"Okay, for starters, he's definitely our guy. And he's in the wind. He's been derailed, thwarted, and for that…he blames you. He's read those damn newspaper articles about the department consulting 'our crystal ball,' and is scared enough by the notion of a psychic on his trail that he's gone to ground. For now. But he won't stay there."

They'd stopped at a traffic light. He scrubbed a hand over his face, then turned to look at her. His eyes were red-rimmed but brilliant and hard as diamonds. "He's targeted you as his next victim. He's got pictures of you. Tacked up all over the place. And he's done…to those pictures…what he means-ah, hell."

The light changed. The car moved forward, and Tierney watched trees and cars and buildings go by in a shimmering blur. The palms of her hands and the soles of her feet felt tingly. She swallowed. "Does he know where I live?"

This time the glance he gave her was bleak. "I don't know, Miss Tee."

But she felt his fear. "You think he might, though, don't you?" And she fought to keep her own desperate terror out of her voice. Oh God… Jennie. Gran…dearest Gran. How I wish I could hear you!

"Or that he can at least find out." Wade whipped the car into a no-parking zone near the front of the gallery and cut the engine. He gave her a stay-put gesture, then got out and surveyed the street and sidewalks in every direction as he circled briskly around to her side of the vehicle. He opened her door and held out a hand.

"I don't think he's here," Tierney said breathlessly as she gave him hers. "I can't feel him, anyway."

"Thank God for that." Taking her elbow in a firm grip, he hurried her into the gallery and flipped over the Closed sign on the front door.

"Hi, welcome to Jeanette's Gallery, my name is Clair, just let me know if there's anything I can help you with…" Clair Yee, the Reed College freshman who helped out with the gallery and Jeannette sitting when Tierney had to be away for more than an hour at a time, came in through the back door, giving off waves of worry and concern-and a little bit of annoyance she was trying to suppress.

She halted in her tracks when she saw Tierney and Wade, and said, "Oh! Oh, my God." in the overly dramatic fashion of the young. "I am so glad you're back."

Tierney's heart rate kicked into high. "What's wrong? Is Gran-"

"I didn't know what to do, I mean. I know she gets upset sometimes, and it's not like I don't know… I mean, I've dealt with her before, I'm sort of used to her moods…"

Wade gave Tierney's elbow a little squeeze, then released it and fell back to let her climb the stairs side-by-side with Clair.

"I mean, she just got so upset. Just all of a sudden, and for no reason, you know? One minute she's sitting there at the table working on this really pretty Monet jigsaw puzzle I got for her, and then all of a sudden she just, like, gets up and starts crying, and walking back and forth, back and forth. I didn't know what to do. I mean, should I have called 9-1-1?"

"It's all right," Tierney said soothingly. "It's hard to know what might have gotten into her. Maybe she had a memory, or-" She broke off as a familiar little pain stabbed at her heart. "Clair, how long ago did this happen?"

"Oh, gosh. I'm not sure…not that long. Half an hour…forty-five minutes, maybe? I haven't let her out of my sight since, though, I swear-I mean, until I heard the dinger just now. I hope-"

"No, no- Clair, it's all right. Really. I'm sure she'll be fine. She'll settle down, now that I'm…" She stood on the landing and grasped for a breath. The shivery thrill of emotion inside her was moving dangerously close to tears. She glanced over her shoulder to see what had become of Wade, but judging from the thumps and bangs resonating from the rooms below, he was still checking doors and dead bolt locks. "You know." she said to Clair, "I think I'm going to close up early today, anyway, so why don't you just go ahead and go home now? Make sure you leave me your hours, though, okay?"

"Oh." The girl's expression was doubtful but her emotions exuded relief and joy. "Well…if you're sure…"

"I'm sure-and, Clair, you're a dear to come at short notice like this. Thanks."

"Oh, no problem, Tee. Any time." She went skipping down the stairs like a dog that had just been let off her leash.

Tierney drew in a breath that hurt her chest, then unlocked the door and pushed it open.

Jeannette was sitting on the couch, staring straight ahead and rocking…rocking. Her hands were clasped together in her lap and her face was streaked with tears.

"Jennie, darling." Tierney called softly as she moved forward on uncertain legs, "it's me…Tee."

Her grandmother's grief-stricken face swiveled toward her, coming slowly alight now, with hope. "Tee?" Her voice sounded quavery and frail, an old, old woman's voice. "Is it you? I thought…"

"I know…I know." Tierney sank onto the couch and gathered her grandmother into her arms, crooning to her like a mother to a frightened child. "It's all right, Jennie, dear…it's all right. I'm here now. Tee's here." As she crooned the words of comfort she let the tears come, and they were tears of joy mixed with inexpressible sorrow.

Oh, Gran, you heard me, didn't you? You heard me, just the way you used to. You are still here, aren't you? Gran…can you hear me now? Do you know I love you?

And she heard the reply, faint but unmistakable. My dearest child. I love you, too.

Wade's inspection of the gallery's security situation left him with two conclusions. One, a determined serial killer could get into the place easily, no problem. Like a hot knife through butter. And two, no way in hell could he allow his "crystal ball" to stay here.

His first impulse was to march up the stairs and tell her so, but something of her "gift" must have rubbed off on him, because he was able to stop himself before he did something stupid. Because he knew exactly what her reaction to that would be-no doubt whatsoever.

So, since he already knew moving Tierney and her grandmother to a safe house was going to be out of the question, for now he was going to have to make do with assigning a couple of uniforms to look out for them. During the day, anyway. Nights…well, he figured he could handle those himself.

Figuring he'd get less argument if it was already a done deal, he called Nola with his request and got the first protection detail assigned and on their way before he headed upstairs to break the news to Tierney.

On the landing at the top of the stairs he paused, frowning. Door standing open, unlocked. Not good. He'd have to remind Tierney to be more careful. Just because he happened to be somewhere on the premises didn't mean she could let her guard down. Not even for a minute. Not until this sicko was caught. Or dead.

He shut the door carefully behind him, set the dead bolt and walked into the living room. And every thought of lectures and scolding melted away into nothing, leaving him with nothing but an aching knot smack in the middle of his chest.

He walked over and lowered himself into the easy chair placed at a right angle to the couch where Tierney sat holding and rocking her grandmother, patting the old lady's back. As if, he thought. Tierney was the parent and Jeannette a distraught teenager with a broken heart.

He was rubbing absently at the knot in his chest when Tierney looked up and smiled radiantly at him.

'"She heard me, Wade," she said, laughing through her tears. "Just like she used to. We had this connection-she always knew when I was in trouble, or upset…hurt. It's still there. It isn't gone, not completely. Oh, Wade…" She closed her eyes tightly and her face seemed to crumple.

Wade leaned back in the chair, stretched out his legs and stared up at the ceiling. Let out a breath, long and slow.

When had it happened? When had these two women gotten so far under his skin that even he knew there was no way in hell he'd ever get them out?

It began to dawn on him then, that the ache in his chest was longing. And that what he was longing for was something he didn't even know he'd been missing. It was all tangled up with memories, the ones he had and the ones he didn't. Family…the mom and dad who'd raised him, loved him-he loved them, too, of course, and remembered to phone them now and then. The mother and father he couldn't remember except in nightmares. The brother he'd somehow lost touch with. His only brother…Matt.

It was the angel, Wade.

He's a boy angel. Like us, only bigger.

He felt restless suddenly. Itchy-the way he did when a case wasn't coming along well. When the evidence wasn't making sense…clues not adding up.

He stood up, and Tierney's misty gaze followed him. He touched her hair gently…resisted the desire to let his fingers linger in its softness. "Tour protection's on its way. I'll be downstairs-they'll need to be let in and briefed."

"You're going." It wasn't a question.

"Got to get back to work. There's going to be a ton of evidence to go through once the techs get done with that house. I'll be back, though-might be late, so don't wait up. Just leave me a pillow and a blanket and I'll make myself comfortable on the couch."

She nodded, a little smile flirting with the corners of her mouth. His stomach gave a playful flip, and he thought again of the things he'd been missing. He rested his hand on her head for a moment, but it wasn't nearly enough, so he leaned down and kissed her forehead.

And that wasn't enough, either. Not nearly.

Later that evening, several time zones away on a small lake somewhere in South Carolina, Samantha Pearson sat cross-legged on a floating dock and watched the fireflies wink and dance in the darkening woods. The night lay thick and warm around her. There'd been a thunderstorm earlier, but its brief respite from the heat and humidity was only a memory.

Somewhere a whip-poor-will was singing his little heart out; the frog chorus was working up to a frenzy, and from across the lake came the intermittent scream of a locust. And all in the hope of snagging a mate, Sam thought resentfully. The whole damn world is teeming with critters bent on hooking up, and here I am, a married woman, alone. Where's the justice in that?

The dock creaked suddenly, but before she could turn around, a pair of warm hands came from behind to cover her eyes. She gasped, and her heart lurched and began to pound, almost in sync with the whip-poor-will's frantic song.

"Cory!" She twisted in his arms and hurled herself against his chest, toppling him onto his back. The dock bobbed giddily, like a cork on a choppy sea.

"Whoa, woman, don't you even look before you throw yourself at a man? What if I was an ax-murderer or a deranged-"

"Don't you think I know my own husband's hands? Hush up and kiss me, Pearse. I've been 'bout to die of loneliness."

"Loneliness? Oh, is that what we're calling it? I can think of another word. Starts with 'H', rhymes with corn- umphf…" It was a good bit later before he was able to complete the thought, in a considerably weaker and breath-ier voice. "Sammie June…sweetheart… I've only been gone four days."

"Well, I know that, but it seems like years."

After that, there wasn't much talking. The dock rocked gently under the stars.

It was nearly midnight when Wade left police headquarters in downtown Portland. He made a detour to his place to pick up a change of clothes and his shaving stuff, and another to an all-night supermarket and finally pulled up in front of Jeannette's Gallery at a little after one in the morning. He sent the two unis on guard duty home with his thanks and a backslap, and carried his overnighter and a brace of plastic grocery bags up the stairs to Tierney's apartment.

He let himself in with the keys she'd given him. then, quietly as he could, set the overnighter and groceries down and locked up behind him. A light had been left on in the kitchen-enough to see by. The TV was on, muted, tuned to an all-night high-stakes poker game, and in its glow he could see Tierney lying on the couch, sound asleep.

He felt an uneven jerking sensation inside his chest, as if a very small puppy was playing tug-of-war with his heart.

Leaving his overnighter where it was, he carried the grocery bags into the kitchen and unloaded beer, ground beef and a few other odd essentials into the refrigerator. Toaster waffles went in the freezer, burger buns and coffee on the countertop. When he went back to the living room he found Tierney awake, sitting up, and in the middle of a huge yawn.

"You weren't supposed to wait up for me," he said, trying to sound scolding.

She gulped the yawn down and murmured. "I was sleeping. That's not waiting up. That's…" She yawned again.

"Mmm, hmm…right." Seeing no reason at all why he shouldn't, he leaned over the back of the couch and kissed her neck. Her skin was moist and warm, and smelled of soap and cool green gardens. Caught again in midyawn, she gave him a startled look, and one hand rose to touch his hair as if it had decided to do so all on its own.

"Quit yawning, Doyle," he whispered, "so I can kiss you properly."

She sighed without sound, a subtle relaxing of head and neck that brought her mouth into perfect alignment with his. He cradled her head between his hands and stroked the soft delicate underside of her jaw with his fingertips as he let his lips caress…his tongue savor…his teeth delicately measure…and his mind soak in all the shapes and textures and flavors of that mouth. Then he threw patient exploration to the winds and plunged into its depths and lost himself there, heart and soul.

At some point, having relinquished support of her head to the couch cushions, his hands discovered what his eyes had seen and his mind not registered. She was wearing a loose-fitting nightgown made of something soft, with thin shoulder straps made of some kind of ribbon, and plenty of room at the low neckline for his hands to slip inside.

Her skin was warm and sleek, like the pelt of some magnificent animal…a panther or leopard. Her breasts filled his hands as if made for that purpose and no other, and the nipples formed delicate buds between his thumbs and forefingers.

She arched her back, pushed her breasts into his hands…then broke from him suddenly, shockingly. Ripping her mouth away from his, she sat up straight, trembling. "I thought…we hadn't decided…what to do about this."

"One day at a time." Wade growled, resting his elbows on the back of the couch and rocking slightly…easing himself. "One minute. And at this minute-" Realizing he didn't need to say it, he stopped and simply looked at her.

She looked back at him and said nothing.

He smiled. "I may not have your gift, darlin', but I know you feel the same way I do. It's why you waited up for me. isn't it? You could have left me a pillow and a blanket, like I told you." He waited, and when she still didn't say anything, added a gentle, "Why didn't you?"

"I wanted…" She stopped, licked her lips.

"Yeah," he said softly, "me, too."

He rounded the end of the couch and she stood up to meet him. His plan had been to scoop her up in some grand passionate gesture and carry her off to her bedroom, but something in her face…in her eyes…stopped him. He halted, facing her, and reached for her hands. Entwined his fingers with hers.

"Tee, don't make this more complicated than it is." He said it in a breaking voice, something he hadn't expected. His face felt rigid, as though the muscles there were fighting for control over the emotions that had somehow taken over his being. "It's just two people…you and me…making love."

She gazed at him for a long moment. Then, as quickly, as shockingly as she'd broken from him. she reached up, took his face between her hands, stood on tiptoe and kissed him. Kissed him deeply, fervently, in a way that left no more doubts, no more questions.

Except for one, maybe. It flashed through Wade's mind to wonder what it was she'd read in him when she'd looked at him for that time…that seemingly endless moment. But then again, he was pretty sure he already knew.

He did sweep her up into his arms. then, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and gave a soft giggle of pleasure.

"That bed of yours…you mentioned it's big?"

She nodded, bumping her forehead against his, and breathlessly whispered. "And comfortable. Um…in case you were wondering, it's thataway."

"I have condoms," he said in a gruff murmur as he carried her into her bedroom. "I stopped at the store."

She laughed softly. "Callahan, I think that train has left the station."

It was different that night-the sex. Different, though no less overwhelming. Tierney couldn't have said for sure why, except that it may have had something to do with the words Wade had used to describe it.

Two people…making love…

That, and what she'd felt from him, just before she'd kissed him.

At first, though, in her bedroom, alone with him. she felt nervous…shaky. Shy, as if she'd never made love with this man-maybe any man-before.

While he sat on the foot of the bed and took off his shoes, she folded back the covers…plumped the pillows…little wifely gestures that felt strange to her. Then she stood self-consciously and watched him as he rose and unbuckled his belt.

Somber-faced, he watched her eyes watching him as he tugged his shirt from the waistband of his pants, unbuttoned the cuffs, first, then the front.

She stepped closer, reached out and pushed the two halves of his shirt apart, then slowly over his shoulders. Still clinging to his gaze, she hooked a thumb under one strap of her nightgown and drew it over her shoulder. She was about to do the same to the other when his hand covered hers, stopping her, and his feelings flowed over her like a crystal cascade, like the little waterfalls that bathed the southern slope of the Columbia River Gorge, nurturing moss and ferns and delicate flowers. She nodded, biting her lip as shivers of anticipation rippled through her and her nipples budded against the caressing fabric of her gown.

Wade smiled as he watched the sculpt of her breasts rise in bold relief under her nightgown, and blessed the light from the streetlamps outside her bedroom windows that made it possible. If he'd had his way he'd have all the lights blazing, the better to drink in the sight of her body. He wanted to see her, every detail, every freckle. He wanted to witness the changes heat and passion brought to her eyes…her skin.

But he wouldn't ask that of her. not tonight. Someday soon he would, but she was nervous tonight. And for some reason that only made her more precious to him. He'd never felt such tenderness before. Not for any woman.

Not for anyone.

Quickly, then, he hauled his undershirt up his back and over his head and pitched it in roughly the same direction he'd just tossed his shirt. And he caught his breath when Tierney's hand came to rest on his chest.

His muscles felt cramped with thwarted urges…to reach for her, pull her against him, hold her tightly, push into her…all the things his male imperative demanded he do, sooner rather than later. But he wouldn't allow them, not yet. He sucked in a breath and held himself still and let her fingers wander where they wished…and then her mouth and her teeth and tongue.

Light-headed for lack of breath, he finally exhaled and murmured. "Tee…please." She lifted brilliant eyes to his, and he laughed painfully. 'To quote someone I heard recently…I'd like very much to see you naked."

She smiled, biting down on her lower lip, and he put his hands on her shoulders and eased the straps of her nightgown over her shoulders…down her arms. She drew her arms free, and the gown fluttered to the floor.

She stood trembling, naked under his eager gaze, making no move to cover herself even though her every instinct longed to do so. Because I want to give him this…me. I do.

But I wonder if he knows how vulnerable I feel.

A moment later she knew he did.

He drew a shaken-sounding breath and wrapped her in his arms, cupped her head in his hand, tucked her face in the hollow of his neck and buried his face in her hair. And simply held her.

She no longer felt vulnerable, not even a little bit. She felt invincible, as if the strongest armor in the world surrounded her. She felt protected and powerful, but gentle, too, because she could afford to be. She felt confident she could move mountains…and was utterly secure in knowing she didn't have to.

I wonder…can you tell me, Wade? Is this what it feels like to be loved?

It was different tonight-the lovemaking. Wade couldn't remember ever having felt like this before. None of the usual masculine issues-and he suspected they were pretty much universal among males-seemed to matter to him.

There were no doubts or insecurities, no thoughts about whether he was the best lover she'd ever known, or even simply a good one. He didn't think. Is this touch going to pleasure her? Has any man ever touched her this way? He felt nothing of ego, had no conscious wish to make her go wild with desire for the sake of his own pride…none of those selfish little thoughts that lurked in the back of most men's minds when they made love to a woman. In fact, he couldn't recall thinking at all.

Afterward he couldn't even recall what they'd done, precisely. He remembered a perfect melding of his body with hers, without any words being spoken. Remembered losing track of where he left off and she began, and feelings so intense there wasn't anything to be done but surrender himself to them and let them carry him where they would.

He remembered a climax that came for them both at the same moment, as naturally and effortlessly as the sun rising.

And thinking, just before sleep came for him. I wonder…can you tell me, Miss Tee? Is this what it feels like to make love?

He woke in darkness. Suffocating, absolute darkness.

His heart raced, pounded. He was sweating and shaking, and he wanted desperately to cry. The sobs were like something alive inside his chest, hurting him, fighting to get out.

But he was too big to cry. Don't want to be a baby. I'm not a baby! I'm not!

So he didn't cry.

Then came the noise. Terrible noises-deafening. Things crashing, breaking, thumps and bangs, voices yelling…screaming. He wanted to put his hands over his ears to shut out the sounds of screaming…yelling. But for some reason he couldn't.

"Mama! Mama!"

Somebody was saying that, sobbing-not him. It's not me, it's not me! I'm too big to cry for my mama!

But someone was. He could hear them clearly, small frightened voices whimpering. "Mommy…"

And then, finally…like a warm blanket on a cold, cold night…like a soft sweet breeze carrying promises of summer…he heard the other voice, the one he'd been waiting for, praying for. The one he'd known all along would come and save him.

Shh… It's okay…it's gonna be okay. It's over. You're safe now. It's okay…

He felt safe, then. And he hunkered down in the warm darkness and waited for the crashing and banging and screaming and yelling to stop and the lights to turn on. Lights so bright they hurt his eyes. So bright…

He opened his eyes, but the only light was the pale wash from streetlights outside uncurtained windows.

There were arms around him, strong and gentle…a damp cheek pressed against his…a scent that reminded him of rain-fresh gardens. And a voice, one he knew, whispered the familiar words from his dream…

"Shh…it's okay, it's okay, my love. You're safe now. I'm here. Tee's here…"