Forbidden Temptation

Chapter Eight

Melissa held up her hand. “Enough. I want you off this property now or I’m calling the police.”

Rose dragged her gaze from Daniel’s narrowed eyes and looked at Melissa. “Okay. I’m going. But please, please be careful.” She looked at Daniel again, trying to read his dark expression. He was skeptical, obviously. Thrown by the whole thing. But she’d seen something else in his eyes.

Recognition.

She had described the killer’s handiwork perfectly, and he knew it.

“This is why I called you here, Daniel,” Melissa said, her voice low with anger. “To warn you about Rose.” She hooked her arm through Daniel’s, turning to the nearby security guard. When she spoke, her voice was cold. “See that she leaves.”

Daniel turned away, walking back to the building with Melissa. The security guard held his ground, his grim look making Rose’s stomach hurt.

She returned to her Chevy and slid behind the steering wheel, gripping the wheel with shaking hands before fumbling her key into the ignition.

Okay, so coming here wasn’t a good idea.

But she couldn’t bear sitting at home, wondering if Melissa was even still alive. Though there’d been no report of a new murder on the news, she’d figured it was possible that the body just hadn’t been found yet. She’d tried all the numbers she had for Melissa, without any response.

She’d panicked, pure and simple. Acted before she thought. And now she’d paid a high price for her impulsiveness.

Daniel knew.

It had been foolish to think she could keep secret something so elemental to who she was, not if she wanted to use the death veils to make a difference in the lives of people at risk. She knew she could make a difference, if only someone believed her. But nobody believed her. Especially not Daniel.

She was on her own.

DANIEL STARED at the narrow road illuminated by the Jeep’s headlights, his mind still in the parking lot of Bannerman Publishing, reliving the scene between Rose and Melissa over and over again in hopes of making sense of what seemed nonsensical.

There was no chance Rose Browning was telling the truth. It was only a question of whether she was lying or crazy.

Daniel’s dealings with her argued against the latter; she held a job, paid a mortgage and was able to communicate clearly and rationally, so insanity wasn’t the answer.

But why would she have chosen such a crazy-sounding lie to explain her insider knowledge of Orion’s modus operandi?

He shouldn’t have gone back inside with Melissa after the parking lot scene. He should have followed Rose home immediately, caught her with her guard down and her emotions running high and gotten to the bottom of her deception. Instead, he’d given her several hours to calm down, to rethink her plan and come up with a different excuse.

Couldn’t be helped now, he thought grimly, pulling the Jeep onto Twentieth Street. She’d still be caught off guard to find him at her door at eight-thirty on a Thursday night.

Five Points South teemed with people taking advantage of the mild October night. He passed the Southside Pub’s neon-lit entrance, a reminder of his first encounter with Rose Browning. Wearing something sleek and red, her dark hair gathered in a neat coil at the base of her neck, she’d made an impact.

He stopped at the traffic light by the Storyteller fountain, his mind still replaying that first, brief meeting. No words exchanged, only a look that had set a fire in his belly, a need that lingered, unquenched, even now.

Whether she was a liar or not.

Lost in memory, he barely registered the small group of pedestrians crossing the street in front of him until a dark-haired beauty in a short black skirt and leather jacket dragged his attention back to the present. It took a second to realize she wasn’t a figment of his imagination, conjured up by his preoccupation with Rose Browning and her secrets.

It was Rose herself, dressed for clubbing in a flippy little skirt that hit her midthigh, exposing long, toned legs made sexier by a pair of spike-heeled pumps. Tonight she wore her hair down in sleek, dark waves that framed her heart-shaped face. She walked apart from the rest of the smiling, laughing pedestrians, her expression tense and focused.

As she reached the sidewalk on the other side of the street, the light changed. Daniel flicked on his turn signal and made a right onto a side road, following her.

He drove slowly, staying just behind her as she strode toward a pair of bars near the end of the block. She entered the nearest one: Sizzle. The bar where Alice Donovan had spent her last night on earth.

Scanning the street for a parking place and finding none, Daniel settled on the side lot next to Hannity’s, the Irish pub next door. He didn’t enter Sizzle immediately; he had a feeling she’d be watching the door. Instead, he waited outside Hannity’s, pretending to read the dinner menu posted on the window, until a crowd of six young men approached the entrance to the dance club. Daniel fell in behind them, using them as cover until he was safely through the front door.

He peeled off, disappearing into the dim belly of the club, well away from the dance floor or the long maple bar near the far wall. Settling at a table near one corner, he scanned the club until he spotted Rose standing near the bar. Her gaze moved around the room, restive and alert.

Who was she looking for? Orion?

Daniel’s pulse quickened, anticipation battling dread in his gut. Did she know who Orion was? Was she here to meet him, to help him pick out his next prey? Was it possible?

He wished he could believe she was insane instead.

Something loud and driving played over the club’s speakers, an electronic mating call to the twentysomethings grinding and gyrating on the dance floor. He watched Rose, wondering if she’d venture from the bar and start mingling with the crowd.

Maybe she’d just come here to pick up a date, he told himself, trying to ignore the rush of acid in his gut. She was single, young and pretty. She wouldn’t be the only woman in this place looking for a warm body to share a bed with tonight.

If she were any other woman and he were any other man, he might offer himself for the job.

A smiling redhead walked slowly past his table, blocking his view of Rose. He looked up to find the woman watching him, invitation in her blue eyes. He smiled politely but looked away, trying to reacquire his target.

She was no longer at the bar.

Standing, he tried to spot her among the writhing throng on the dance floor. But she wasn’t there.

As a waitress moved his way, he headed for the front door and emerged into the cool night, the thudding beat of the music from the club echoing the pulse in his ears.

“Lose something?”

He turned to find Rose leaning against the club’s weathered brick facade, her pale brown eyes glittering.

He didn’t try to lie. “Yes. You.”

Her lips curved. “Afraid I might accost some other poor woman and loose my insanity on her?”

“Never said you were insane.”

“You didn’t have to.” Rose pushed away from the wall. “How did you know I’d be here?”

“I didn’t. I was on my way to your house and spotted you crossing near the fountain.”

“You were on your way to my house? Why?”

“Did you think I’d just leave things the way they were at Melissa’s office?”

“Actually, yes.” Rose started walking down the sidewalk, heading toward Twentieth Street.

Daniel caught her arm. “My car’s parked in the lot next door. Let me drive you back to your car.”

“Who says I’m going back to my car?”

He tightened his grip on her arm. “You, of all people, should know it’s not safe for a woman to be walking around Five Points South by herself at night.” Leaning closer, he lowered his voice. “Unless there’s some reason you believe you have nothing to fear.”

Her eyes darkened with dismay. “You think I know who the killer is? You think I’m working with him or something? My God, Daniel.” Dismay shifted to revulsion. She pulled her arm from his grasp. “I’d rather you believe I was crazy.” She headed toward the intersection with Twentieth Street.

Daniel caught up with her. “Those are the two options, aren’t they? You’re either crazy or a liar.”

“Or I’m telling the truth.”

“I gave up believing in magic in second grade.”

“It’s not magic.” She wobbled as her heel hit a crack in the sidewalk.

He caught her arm, steadying her. A buzz of energy crackled through his fingertips and shimmied up his arm. “Then, what is it?”

She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, gazing up at him with haunted eyes. “It’s a curse.”

He didn’t know what to say in response. If she were telling the truth, if she could see the things she said she could, of course she’d feel that way. He understood the feeling; he’d often wondered what kind of darkness in his soul allowed him to visualize the workings of a sick, depraved mind, to predict and anticipate the most evil of acts.

She started to pull her arm away again, but he held on. “I assume you’re not here to pick up a date for the night,” he murmured. “So why the club hopping?”

She looked down. “I was looking for Melissa.”

He tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. “She told you to stay away from her. I don’t think she was kidding. She could get a restraining order if you push this.”

Her chin jutted forward, sliding deeper into his palm. “Bars are public places.”

“Why did you think she’d be here?”

“She’d told me she and Mark were going to celebrate their third anniversary of dating by going out tonight, and I remembered that she’d said they’d met at Sizzle. I just hoped-”

“You’d find them here?”

Rose nodded.

He dropped his hand away from her face before he heeded his body’s clamoring to pull her into his arms. “And then what?”

She didn’t answer right away, piquing his curiosity. But standing in the middle of the sidewalk as they were, they were beginning to attract attention, so he pressed his hand to the small of her back and nudged her toward the parking lot where he’d left his Jeep. “Let me drive you home, Rose, and we can talk about this some more.”

“I’m not stalking her,” Rose said, even as she let him move her toward the parking lot.

“Then, what would you call it?”

She paused at the parking-lot entrance. “Let’s say-just for kicks-I see what I say I do. And that the death veils mean what I think they do. That would mean Melissa’s life is in danger, and she’s on the killer’s target list, right?”

He nudged her toward the Jeep.

“Then, Orion could be out here, right now, where she is. Looking for her just like I am. And if I find her, I might be able to spot him.”

“And do what?”

“Call the police.”

He nodded. “And tell them what? That you’ve seen death veils on Melissa Bannerman and because some poor guy just happened to be watching her inappropriately, golly gee, he just has to be the killer?”

Her mouth tightened. “Those weren’t the words I’d planned to use, no.”

“It’ll sound the same to any cop on the street, Rose.”

“Fine. You don’t approve of what I’m doing.” She stopped at the rear of his Jeep. “I didn’t ask you to chaperone me.”

“And that was your first mistake. Since we’re still pretending you really do see death veils, what makes you think the killer won’t come after you?”

“I looked in the rearview mirror before I got out of the car,” she answered, her gaze steady.

The certainty in her voice unnerved him. Maybe he’d ruled out insanity too quickly.

She looked away. “I know this makes you uncomfortable-”

“I’ve interviewed men who’ve disemboweled their victims,” he said more harshly than he’d intended, making her flinch. “I can handle hearing about your visions.”

“I’m just saying, I’m not the one in danger.”

“Maybe not from Orion,” he conceded. “But there are other predators walking these streets.”

Her expression shifted, as if that thought hadn’t occurred to her. But she squared her shoulders. “I stay in crowded places. I buy nonalcoholic drinks and never let them out of my sight. And I know better than to trust a stranger.”

“What if Orion’s not a stranger? Could be anyone. Hell, I could be Orion for all you know.”

She angled a look at him. “And you want me to get into your car in a dark parking lot?”

Touché.

She held his gaze a moment, her expression serious. Then her lips curved slightly. “I don’t think you’re him.”

“You’re lucky I was the one who spotted you.”

“Because this is where Orion chooses his victims?”

“Or stalks them.” He opened the passenger door for her. “Several of his past victims were last seen at bars. He sees places like this as his hunting ground. He spots his prey, stalks her and catches her when she’s tipsy or tired, and somehow he convinces her to let her guard down with him.”

“How?” Sounding curious, Rose slid into the Jeep’s passenger seat and buckled herself in.

“If I knew that, I’d be a lot closer to finding him,” Daniel answered, sliding behind the wheel. As he reached for his seat belt, his cell phone vibrated against his hip.

He pulled the phone from his pocket and read the display panel. The number was local but unfamiliar. He shut the phone off, letting the call go to his message box.

“Need to get that?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I’ll check the voice mail later.” He backed the Jeep out of the parking lot.

She directed him across Twentieth Street to a shadowy side street. Her Impala was one of a half-dozen cars parked there, taking advantage of free weekend parking. He squelched a shudder at the thought of her walking down that darkened street for a couple of blocks before she got anywhere near bright lights and the safety of a crowd.

He let her out next to her car, catching her wrist as she reached for her seat-belt buckle. “Don’t ever park on a street like this at night, even if you’re not alone. It’s asking for trouble.”

Her sober gaze met his. “Okay.”

He let go of her wrist and watched until she was safely locked inside her car. Backing up, he gave her room to pull out of the parking place.

He stayed close, following her back to her house on Mountain Avenue. When she pulled into the alley and parked in a gravel drive behind her house, he pulled in behind her. Even if it was playing with fire, he wasn’t going to let her go into that empty house alone.

She waited for him at the top of the wooden steps leading down the sloping yard to her back door. “You sure you aren’t a frustrated bodyguard at heart?”

He laid his hand on her back. “Want me to leave?”

She shook her head. “But I promise I’ll look into getting an alarm system put in first thing tomorrow so you don’t have to worry so much about me.”

He doubted even an alarm system would make him stop worrying about her. Whatever had put her front and center in the Orion murder case, she wouldn’t be safe until he was caught or moved on to the next town. “I’ll take a look around to make sure everything’s okay.”

She nodded her approval but didn’t make a move to follow him. Squelching a pang of disappointment, he checked all the rooms and returned downstairs. He found Rose still in the kitchen, standing near the back door. She reached for the door handle. “Thanks for checking things out.”

He frowned. “You’re kicking me out?”

She gave him a look of surprise. “You thought we were making a date of this?”

Ouch. “Actually, I thought it might be a good idea if I stayed tonight.”

Her eyebrow darted higher.

“On the sofa,” he added. “Frustrated bodyguard, remember?”

A nervous chuckle escaped her throat. “I don’t think it’s necessary.”

“Humor me.”

Her half smile faded to a frown. “I’m more worried about Melissa than me.”

“She’s with her fiancé, isn’t she?”

Her frown only deepened, piquing his curiosity.

“There something about her fiancé I should know?”

She cleared her expression. “They’ve had…issues.” Her mouth tightened, making it clear she would say no more. But he could make an educated guess. Nothing like an impending wedding to make a groom-to-be start panicking about the whole “until death do us part” thing.

As he well knew.

She nodded toward the kitchen table. “Want something to drink? I don’t have anything alcoholic around here-”

“Whatever you have is fine.” He sat at the table and reached into his pocket for his cell phone to see if his mystery caller had left a message.

“Daniel? It’s Melissa Bannerman.” Her recorded voice sounded raspy. He heard a sniffling sound as she took a breath. “I know we’re mostly strangers, but I need a ride home.”

He sat forward, instantly alert.

“I’m in Trussville,” she continued, referring to a suburb east of Birmingham. Though teary-sounding, Melissa’s voice oozed disgust. “Mark and I had a fight. I should’ve known something was up when he wanted to come out here. Maybe the bastard thought his little tramp of a girlfriend wouldn’t be able to track him down if he changed his patterns. Idiot!”

Her fiancé was two-timing her and Melissa had found out about it, Daniel interpreted.

“I wasn’t going to get in the car with him after that,” she added. “And I really don’t feel up to hearing any of my friends or family say ‘I told you so’ tonight, you know? Call me back? I really need a ride home.” The message ended with a click.

Daniel pushed the return call button on his phone. Melissa answered on the first ring. “Hello?”

“It’s Daniel. You okay?”

Rose turned at the sound of his voice, her eyebrows cocked. He gave her an apologetic look.

She sniffled. “No. I just left the restaurant and started walking, I was so angry. I know that was stupid.”

“Where are you now?” Daniel looked up as Rose brought the two glasses of juice to the table. She met his gaze, her expression curious.

“On Highway 11 somewhere,” Melissa answered his question, sniffling. “I’m past where all the stores and houses are. It’s really dark here.”

What the hell was she thinking? “You need to head back toward the restaurant. I don’t care if the jerk is there, you need to be around people-”

There was a clicking sound in his ear, and he heard Melissa utter a soft curse. “Battery-” She managed to get the word out before the connection broke.

“Melissa?” Apprehension slithered through his belly.

“What’s going on?” Rose’s voice was low and tight.

“Melissa and her fiancé had an argument, and she walked out of the restaurant where they were eating.” He disconnected and punched in her number again, waiting for a ring. Her voice mail message came up immediately.

“Walked out? By herself?” Rose looked horrified. “What was she thinking?”

“I don’t think she was thinking at all,” Daniel admitted.

“Where is she?”

“Highway 11 west of Trussville.”

Rose’s eyes widened even more. “Go get her. Now.”

“You’re coming with me,” he decided, already moving toward the back door.

“She won’t be happy to see me,” Rose warned, but she sounded relieved that he was including her in the trip.

“She’ll deal,” Daniel told her as she locked up.

His mind racing, he calculated the distance and time. Five minutes to the Red Mountain Expressway, ten to I-59 north. From there, it was a twenty-minute drive to the Trussville exit. Just thirty minutes. All Melissa had to do was get somewhere safe and stay there for thirty minutes, and he’d be there to take her safely home. Fortunately, Trussville was miles away from Southside, where Orion seemed to do all of his hunting. Melissa should be safe from him.

But Orion wasn’t the only bad guy around.

WHY MELISSA HADN’T CALLED a cab the minute she stormed out of the restaurant, he didn’t know. Instead, she’d begun walking back toward Birmingham, her strides angry and determined. It was the wrong direction to have chosen, heading away from lights and people down a road that wasn’t all that well traveled thanks to the interstate that ran parallel through the growing suburb.

It suited his purposes.

He followed, passing her and parking a mile down the highway in an area where streetlights were widely spaced and the traffic was light. He knew she’d keep walking away from the restaurant, away from the humiliating scene that had shattered her idyllic little fantasy of happily-ever-after.

Fifteen minutes later, he spotted her coming toward him, her gait wobbly in those spiky high heels she loved so much. She was punching buttons on her cell phone, her body language communicating despair rather than the anger that had propelled her from the restaurant earlier. He gripped the wheel, waiting. He couldn’t make his move while she was on the phone.

There. She thrust her phone into the little bag hanging from her shoulder on a thin strap and turned around, heading back up the highway toward Trussville.

A quick scan of the highway reassuring him that there weren’t any cars to witness his next move, he pulled onto the highway behind her. She turned toward him as he came level with her, her eyes squinting against the glare of his headlights. She took a step back on the shoulder, nearly falling as the heel of her shoe sank into the sandy soil.

He lowered the passenger-side window and turned on the dome light so she could see his face. Her wary expression shifted to recognition.

Exactly as planned.