Forbidden Temptation

Chapter Ten

Unrelenting darkness swallowed Rose, as cold as death. Goose bumps scattered along her arms and legs, the skin at the back of her neck prickling with unease.

She wasn’t alone in the darkness. She could hear him breathing, a slow, soft whisper of sound close by.

She turned in a slow circle, her eyes darting back and forth but finding nothing but blackness. But she still heard him breathing, so close that she imagined she could feel the warmth of his breath on her skin.

Terror trapped her own breath deep in her burning chest. Her head began to swim, specks of color sparkling in the blackness. She forced herself to breathe, trembling as sweet air rushed into her lungs.

A chuffing sound filled her ears. He was laughing at her.

“Who are you?” she rasped.

He didn’t answer, but she felt his breath hot on her neck.

She whirled, flailing out and hitting only air. Her arm swung around and hit her side with a thud, making her gasp.

Twin circles of blinding light pierced the darkness. Rose squinted, her pupils contracting as the lights grew. A rumbling sound filled her ears, growing louder as the featureless darkness faded into recognizable shapes. She stood on the side of a dark highway, surrounded by trees and brush. The lights were car headlights moving toward her on the deserted road.

A narrow strip of grassy shoulder separated the highway from twin stands of young pines rising on either side of the road. Down the highway about a mile, the trees thinned out to make room for houses set well back from the road. Light from inside the homes dotted the darkness with specks of warm gold.

But they were too far away to hear her if she screamed.

The headlights filled her vision, driving out the darkness. She squinted, her eyes aching.

Suddenly the lights flickered out. The car came to a stop beside her, the engine noise idling down to a low growl.

She wanted to run, but her legs wouldn’t move.

The driver’s door opened. A dome light blinked on, backlighting the figure emerging from the car. She peered at him, trying to make out features, but he was only a silhouette.

“Who are you?” she asked again.

He didn’t answer, moving with deliberate strides. One hand lifted, gripped around the shaft of a large hunting knife, its shiny steel blade reflecting the dome light’s pale white glow.

Rose screamed.

The darkness exploded with light. Rose’s legs came to life, thrashing to free themselves of the strange paralysis that had gripped her in the darkness.

It took a moment to realize she was in her own bed, her legs tangled in a chenille throw. She fell back against her pillows, her pulse hammering in her throat. The events of the night before flooded her mind in a sickening rush.

Melissa was dead, she remembered, her heart leaden.

The bed shifted. Her eyes flew open to find Daniel beside her, his gray eyes warm with concern. “You screamed.”

She covered her face, embarrassment warming her cheeks. “I had a nightmare.”

He stroked her arm. “Obviously.”

“I think I was imagining what Melissa must have seen.” The glitter of the knife blade was clear in her mind. She met Daniel’s gaze. “But I don’t think I got it right.”

He didn’t speak, giving her an opening to continue.

“I was alone on a highway. It was pitch-black and deserted. I remember thinking nobody was close enough to hear me scream.”

He brushed a strand of hair out of her face, his fingers sliding along the curve of her cheek. “Must’ve been scary.”

“There was a car. It stopped beside me, and a man got out. I couldn’t see his face, only the blade of his knife.”

Daniel pulled her to him, sliding his hand up and down her back in a gentle, soothing motion. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t think that’s how it was for Melissa,” she murmured against his neck. “I think she saw him and was relieved.”

Daniel pulled back. “You think she knew him?”

“Do you think Melissa would go willingly with a stranger?”

“No,” he conceded.

“I don’t think Alice would have, either.”

“So you think it was someone they both knew.”

“Maybe it was Mark Phagan.”

Daniel threaded his fingers through hers. “Because she found out he was cheating? Wouldn’t his murder be the more likely outcome?”

“What if he’s Orion?”

Daniel’s eyebrows lifted. “Why would you think that?”

“We couldn’t get him on his cell phone most of last night.”

“He had a fiancée and a girlfriend both ready to kill him. He had a full plate.”

“He lied to Melissa about where he was the night Alice Donovan died. He told Melissa he was going to Tuscaloosa, but I overheard him setting up an alibi with his friends.”

Daniel glanced her way again. “Well, he was cheating on her. Maybe he lied to cover a tryst.”

“What if he’d lied about something else?”

Daniel frowned. “Could explain Alice and Melissa, but what about the other two?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Maybe Alice and Melissa were copycat killings.”

“Melissa, maybe. But why Alice?”

She sighed, frustrated that she couldn’t make her theory fit. “You’re right. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Not if it’s a copycat.” He ran his thumb over the soft skin of her wrist. “But maybe he knew the other victims, too.”

“So he could be behind all four murders?”

“He’ll be investigated. Significant others always are,” Daniel assured her.

“What will that do to your theory about Orion?” Rose asked. “I can tell you right now, Mark has lived in Birmingham for the past six years, and he lived in Tuscaloosa before that. He wasn’t traveling from state to state killing women.”

Daniel frowned again. “So maybe I’m wrong about these killings. Maybe they’re not the work of Orion.”

“What happens if it’s not? Do you move on?” Rose tried not to sound anxious, but the thought of him walking out of her life now hurt more than she’d expected.

He tangled his fingers in her damp hair, pulling her closer. He pressed his lips to her forehead. “We’re a long way from this case being over. I’m not going anywhere.”

He didn’t add “for now,” but the unspoken words rang in her head. She pulled him closer, tabling her doubts. He was with her now. That would have to be enough.

Daniel’s fingers threaded through her hair, tugging her head up. He gazed into her eyes, as if searching for something just beyond his reach. “I’m sorry we didn’t reach her in time.”

The guilt in his voice pricked her eyes, eliciting tears. She blinked them back, afraid to give in to the grief hovering just beneath the surface of her emotions. No matter how her relationship with Melissa had ended, Rose had considered her a friend. Losing her, especially in such a violent way, was a wounding blow. But if she let herself cry, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stop.

Daniel brushed his mouth against hers, the touch soft and undemanding. A hot ache settled in the middle of her chest.

She wrapped her hand around the back of his neck and held him there, his lips still on hers. He tasted of mint toothpaste and smoky passion, sparking a hunger she’d never known before. She pulled back, gazing at his face as if she could will the true-love veil to appear. But she saw only his strong, masculine features, dark with a hint of curiosity.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

She shook her head wordlessly. He hesitated briefly, then tangled his fingers in her hair and tugged her toward him. He kissed her again, his hands sliding down her back to settle against her hips. He lifted her onto his lap, his hardness pressing against her softness.

She didn’t care about the true-love veil, she realized. She just needed to forget. Forget death, fear or anything but the feel of heated flesh and whispered sighs.

Daniel groaned deep in his chest and laid her back against the pillows, his hips settling between her thighs. He kissed her throat, nipping the sensitive flesh. “Rose,” he murmured.

She arched her back, liquid heat pooling low in her belly. She tugged the tails of his shirt from his waistband. His belt buckle dug into the flesh of her belly, a reminder that he was still wearing entirely too many clothes.

A ringing sound buzzed on the edge of her receding consciousness, pesky as a fly. She tried to ignore it, reaching for Daniel’s belt, but he stilled her hands.

“Someone’s at the door.” He rolled away from her.

She tugged at his arm, trying to pull him back to her. “They’ll go away.”

“Not if it’s the police.” Daniel sat up, combing his fingers through his tousled hair. He stood and tucked his shirttail into his trousers again. “We’d better check.”

Rose released a frustrated growl and rolled off the bed. She grabbed the cotton bathrobe hanging on the back of her door.

She padded downstairs ahead of Daniel and peeked through the fish-eye lens in the front door. A distorted image of Detective Frank Carter looked back at her.

She patted her hair smooth and opened the door.

Frank stood in the doorway, a frown on his face. In his rubber-glove-encased right hand he held a small white envelope.

Rose’s heart skipped a beat.

“This was propped against the door when I arrived.” Frank looked past Rose at Daniel, one eyebrow inching upward. “I need a plastic bag.”

As Daniel disappeared into the house, Rose scanned the quiet neighborhood, the hair on her arms prickling. Traffic was light this early, a car or two passing while she watched. Three houses down, a neighbor dressed in a sweatsuit walked her poodle around her small front yard.

So ordinary, untouched by the violence that lurked nearby.

She could feel him nearby. He wanted to see her open the envelope, to see her expression when she read the message inside.

Daniel returned with a plastic sandwich bag. He held it open so Frank could drop the envelope into the bag.

Rose peered at the envelope. There was nothing on the envelope, not even her name.

“Same as last time,” Daniel murmured, his brow furrowing. He guided Rose back into the house, motioning for Frank to join them inside.

“Do you think he’s out there, watching?” Rose asked.

“Probably not. He wouldn’t want to risk being caught.”

And yet he’d risked walking up on her porch in broad daylight and leaving the envelope in front of her door.

Or had it been broad daylight? They’d come in through the back early this morning. The message could have been propped against the door since then. A warning of what he was about to do, or a gloat about what he’d already done?

“Let’s get that to the station before we jump to any conclusions,” Frank said quietly. “We need to see what’s inside. And I have questions for you, too.”

Rose glanced at Daniel. He gazed back at her, his expression a mixture of consolation and regret.

“I’ll go get dressed,” she said.

“NO OBVIOUS PRINTS or fibers,” Frank Carter told Daniel and Rose when he returned to the detectives’ office where they’d been waiting for over an hour. “We’re running more tests to see if we can pull some prints from the paper, but it’s iffy.” He handed Rose a sheet of paper. “This is what we found inside.”

Rose looked at the photocopy of the notepaper. Centered in the middle were the words, “Sorry about your friend.”

Her veins filled with ice water.

“Same paper as last time. Standard word processing instead of block printing this time,” Frank continued. “Times New Roman, twelve-point type. No obvious printer inconsistencies, but if we could find the printer we could probably match them up. Our evidence technicians will take a closer look at that, as well.”

Daniel placed his hand at the center of Rose’s back, his steadying touch welcome. She leaned closer, taking strength from his warmth. “Why has he targeted me?” she asked Frank.

“I’m not sure,” Frank admitted. “You were mentioned in the write-up of the neighborhood meeting. Maybe he thinks you’re interfering with his business.”

Rose wasn’t so sure. There seemed to be something personal about his interest, as if he could sense her connection to him.

What would he do if he ever learned that she could foresee his vicious acts?

The phone on Frank’s desk rang. He grabbed it. “Carter.”

Daniel’s hand moved in a gentle circle over Rose’s spine, radiating warmth through her shaky limbs. “You holding up?” he murmured for her ears only.

She nodded.

“Okay, will do,” Frank said into the phone. He hung up and looked at Daniel. “That was my captain, Sheila Green. She wants to see you in her office to discuss what you can contribute to our investigation.”

“Right now?”

Frank nodded. “Down the hall to the right. I’ll keep Ms. Browning company while you’re in there.”

Daniel dropped his hand away from Rose’s back and stood, giving her a quick, reassuring look before heading for the exit.

“How are you holding up?” Frank asked Rose, dragging her attention away from Daniel’s retreating back.

“I’m okay,” she said. “Tired of losing my friends.”

Frank nodded, his expression sympathetic. “It’s never just the victim who suffers.”

He was right. It wasn’t. It was family, friends, whole neighborhoods. In the last week, she’d seen security-company vans in front of three different houses in her neighborhood. She was trying to figure out how to pay for an alarm system for her own home.

All because of one man’s brutal violence.

“It’s convenient you’re here,” Frank added. “I need to discuss Melissa Bannerman’s murder with you.”

Rose willed herself not to panic. She had nothing to hide-nothing that could affect the investigation, anyway. She lifted her chin. “I’ll help however I can.”

“We interviewed Mark Phagan this morning. He said you and Ms. Bannerman had a recent falling out.”

Rose’s heart flip-flopped. “We had a disagreement and agreed to part company,” she admitted carefully.

“A disagreement.” Frank’s eyes glimmered with a mixture of curiosity, bemusement and doubt.

He knew.

She sighed. “I suppose Mark told you what it was about.”

“He did.” Frank picked up a scuffed baseball from his desk and rolled it between his hands, the leather making a dry swishing sound against his palms. He remained silent, watching her through narrowed eyes.

She held her silence, as well, refusing to be intimidated. If he wanted to know about the death veils, he could ask her.

“Does Daniel know about your claims?” Frank asked finally.

The question surprised her. “Yes.”

“But he’s a scientist.”

“I didn’t say he believed me,” she responded.

Frank’s lips curved without quite making it to a smile. “I suppose there are other reasons he might want to stick around.”

Rose frowned, not liking his tone, then realized her reaction was exactly what the detective was looking for. She cleared her expression, not willing to give anything more away about her complicated relationship with Daniel.

“I mean, you’re his type.” Frank cocked his head, his gaze moving over her in a slow sweep that was just short of invasive. “Small, pretty, fragile…”

Rose’s only outward reaction was to sit a little straighter, but inside she was growing angry. Fragile? She was a lot of things, but fragile wasn’t one of them.

“You kind of look like her, too.” Frank’s voice softened. His eyes lowered, as if he were lost in memory.

Rose couldn’t stop herself from responding. “Her?”

Frank’s gaze swung back to hers, fierce and intense. “Tina. My sister. Daniel’s fiancée.”

Rose held still, though Daniel’s response when she’d asked him about being in the market for a wedding flashed through her head. Almost been there, almost done that.

“They didn’t make it to the altar,” Frank added.

Rose bit her tongue to keep from blurting the question the detective obviously wanted her to ask.

“I suppose he’s told you about her, though.”

“What does this have to do with Melissa?”

Frank set the ball on his desk. His gaze narrowed. “Where were you last night after midnight?”

“Home.”

“Alone?”

She pressed her lips together. “Daniel was with me.”

He didn’t look surprised. “He went looking for Melissa last night after she left him a message. Did you go with him?”

“Yes.”

“Even though you and Melissa weren’t on good terms.”

“I was worried about her.”

“Because of the-what did Mr. Phagan say you called it? Death veil?” Frank seemed to take pleasure in her discomfiture, feeding it with his knowing looks and deliberate jabs. Daniel’s friend was good at playing bad cop when he wanted to. No doubt it served him well in interrogations.

But she wouldn’t play that game. “Yes, because of the death veil,” she responded firmly. “I was right to be worried.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Frank’s expression softened. “Did Ms. Bannerman ever mention receiving threats, or maybe noticing someone following her around? Did she change her behavior in any way over the past few days that would make you think she was worried about her personal safety?”

Rose shook her head. “She had a security system put in recently, but I think she saw it as a precaution, not a reaction to any specific threats against her.”

“Do you know what company?”

“Mark can probably tell you more. Oh, wait,” she added, remembering the card that the security technician had given her at the neighborhood meeting. She found the card in her purse and handed it to him. “The installer was Jesse Phillips, with Professional Security Services. Melissa introduced us. She thought I might be interested in a security system of my own.”

Frank looked at the card, his brow creasing. He jotted down the information from the card before handing it back to her. “Did you know Alice Donovan also had a Professional Security Systems alarm system at her apartment?”

“I think Alice referred them to Melissa.” Uneasiness settled in the pit of Rose’s stomach. Had Jesse Phillips installed Alice Donovan’s system, as well?

She could still remember the way he’d looked at her at the neighborhood meeting, his gaze wandering, taking in her breasts and legs. He hadn’t really tried to hide his interest, had he?

Had he been toying with her, even then? He could have found out where she lived easily enough. No big effort from there to leave a cryptic note thanking her for setting up the neighborhood meeting-or giving her his condolences for a death he’d caused.

Was it possible?

She told Frank about meeting Jesse Phillips at the neighborhood meeting. “It could be a coincidence, but-”

“But you received the first note the next day,” Frank finished with a nod. “We’ll look into it.”

Rose glanced toward the doorway, wishing Daniel would come back. She wanted to see if he thought her theory was plausible.

It could be the break in the case they’d been hoping for.

CAPTAIN SHEILA GREEN was a tall, thin woman who was probably in her early fifties but looked at least a decade younger. Her café-au-lait skin was wrinkle-free and unblemished, her short black Afro only lightly flecked with gray. She greeted Daniel with a brief smile and waved him into the chair in front of her desk. “Pleased to meet you, Dr. Hartman. I’ve followed your work for years.”

“Thank you. Appreciate your meeting with me.”

She steepled her hands in front of her, looking at him over the top of her half-glasses. “How did you learn of this case?”

“I’ve been tracking murder cases all over the Midwest and southeast that feature certain similarities,” Daniel answered. He outlined the work he’d been doing for the past few years since leaving the FBI for the private sector. “I believe this man has killed over twenty women in the past seven years. Perhaps, more, since I can’t be sure I’ve discovered them all.”

Captain Green’s eyes narrowed slightly. She pushed a button on her phone. “Sharon? Has Agent Brody arrived yet?”

Brody? Daniel’s muscles bunched.

The secretary answered an affirmative.

Captain Green’s smile looked distinctly predatory. “Please send him in.”

A moment later the office door opened and Special Agent Cal Brody of the FBI swaggered in, meeting Daniel’s stony gaze with a grin. “Hello, Doc. Long time, no see.”

Not long enough, Daniel thought. “Thought you retired.”

Brody laughed. “I hear you want in on this case. We’ve already got a profiler from Quantico working on it.”

“Two pairs of eyes are better than one.”

Brody dropped into the empty chair next to Daniel and laid a thick file folder on the edge of the desk in front of him. He turned a bright smile toward Captain Green. “Hi, Sheila. Thanks for calling me in on this meeting.”

Daniel glanced at the captain. A slight smile curved her lips and she lifted one perfectly arched eyebrow.

“I don’t have any real objection to your coming in on this thing,” Brody continued, calling Daniel’s attention back to him. “Like you say, another pair of eyes won’t hurt a thing.”

“But?”

“But we’re a little concerned about your relationship to a material witness in the case.”

Rose, of course. “Concerned how?”

“When she first showed up on our radar as a peripheral witness in the investigation of Alice Donovan’s murder, the name rang a bell with me.” Brody picked up the file folder from the edge of Captain Green’s desk and flipped through until he found a sheet of paper. He handed the sheet to Daniel.

It was a photocopy of a newspaper article about a case that had been big news a little over a year ago-a politically motivated kidnapping that had led to murder and a huge scandal. A black-and-white photo of a man and a woman speaking to each other, heads close, took up the right side of the article.

Daniel read the caption. “Lieutenant J. McBride of the Borland Police Department confers with elementary schoolteacher Lily Browning, who allegedly claims to have seen visions of Abby Walters, missing since her mother’s murder.”

Lily Browning.

Rose’s sister.