Forbidden Temptation

Chapter Eleven

Brody and the captain looked expectantly at Daniel. He remained silent, preferring to see what direction they were going with the information about Rose’s sister.

“You can understand our concerns,” Captain Green said when it became clear he had no response.

“Especially considering our conversation this morning with Mark Phagan,” Brody added. “Ms. Bannerman recently fired Ms. Browning over some rather interesting claims-”

“I know what the split was about.” Daniel tried to ignore the queasy heat churning in the pit of his stomach.

Brody looked surprised. “So you know what she’s claiming. And you don’t find that…alarming?”

Daniel met the FBI agent’s narrowed gaze. “She’s not a danger to herself or anyone else.”

“You sound like McBride.”

Daniel looked at the newspaper photo. McBride looked like television’s idea of a typical cop-muscular and solid, with short-cropped hair and strong, craggy features. No-nonsense written all over him. “So McBride listened to Lily Browning?”

“Listened to her? Hell, he married her.” Brody slanted Daniel a look. “He didn’t seem the gullible type, either.”

“Never said I believed her, just that she’s not dangerous.”

“She says she sees visions of people about to die.” Captain Green shook her head. “She’s either lying or insane.”

Daniel didn’t argue. He couldn’t defend Rose when he wasn’t yet sure what he thought about her claims. “Let’s get to the point, okay? Am I in on the case or not?”

Captain Green’s eyes narrowed, but she picked up a folder from her desk and handed it to him. “Copies of everything we have on the murders. Crime-scene photos, lab reports, witness interviews, the whole she-bang. I’m trusting you with these because of your reputation and on the recommendation of people you’ve worked with before. And, yes, I did check.”

“Of course.” Daniel kept his expression neutral, but excitement was already building in the pit of his belly. The information inside the file he held was a gold mine to a profiler. All he needed was one piece of data he didn’t already have. One bit of evidence that could make or break the case.

Captain Green’s voice grew stern. “If anything in that file shows up in the media without our express permission, there will be dire consequences. Understood?”

“Understood. Thank you, ma’am.” Daniel headed for the exit, sparing a look at Agent Brody, who looked dyspeptic. Feds talked a good game about interagency cooperation, but most thought the locals were rubes and outside “experts” were shills.

He suspected Brody’s opinion of former FBI profilers wasn’t much better. Especially profilers who consorted with the likes of Rose Browning or her flaky sisters.

DANIEL WAS QUIET on the drive back to her house. Rose darted a glance at him. “I think Jesse Phillips is a good lead,” she said.

“Probably,” he agreed absently.

“Maybe whoever did the background check on him at the security company missed something important.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

His unresponsiveness was beginning to get on her nerves. “I think Detective Carter was interrogating me.”

That earned her a quick glance.

“He knows about the death veils.”

“I know.” Daniel didn’t sound happy about it.

She nibbled her lip. “He asked a lot of questions about my relationship with Melissa.” She told him what Frank had asked, about the suspicion he hadn’t been able to hide. She considered mentioning the detective’s out-of-the-blue comment of his sister, but decided against it. Just because the detective had been fishing for information about her relationship with Daniel didn’t mean she was about to do the same. If Daniel wanted to tell her about Tina, he would.

“Once I mentioned Jesse Phillips, he changed his focus,” she added. “But he didn’t act like he considered Mark Phagan a suspect at all.”

“He’s not going to share his theories with someone outside the investigative team.”

“Y’all will look into it, won’t you? I mean, you said you always try to eliminate the significant other, first, right?”

“We’ll find out where he was last night and the night of Alice’s murder. Okay?”

“Okay.”

The message light was flashing on Rose’s answering machine when she let herself and Daniel into the kitchen through the back door. She rewound the tape and listened.

“Rose, this is Sandra Martin. I wanted to confirm our meeting this afternoon to discuss my wedding. 1:00 p.m. at Office Park West, Suite 400. Please call if you can’t make it.”

Rose looked at her watch. Almost twelve-thirty. She’d forgotten all about the appointment. “I should reschedule.”

“Take the meeting.” Daniel turned to look at her. “It’ll be good to think about something else for a couple of hours.”

He was right. Concentrating on business would be a welcome distraction. “What about you?”

He patted the file folder. “I have plenty to do.”

She didn’t know why she found his eagerness to dig into the file so discomfiting. Of course he wanted to fill in all the blanks. He’d been looking for this killer for years.

But did he have to seem so eager to get rid of her?

She stopped herself there. She’d never been the needy type. She wasn’t about to start now. “I’ll go change.” She jogged upstairs to change into a fresh business suit, stopping only long enough to run a brush through her hair and apply a touch of mascara and lipstick.

Daniel was waiting for her downstairs, the file folder tucked under his arm. “I’ll wait in the car.”

Rose shook her head. “That’s not necessary.”

He gave her a pointed look. “You’ve received two messages from someone who in all probability is a vicious murderer. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go out alone.”

He was right. “Okay.”

“Let’s take your car so I can get a head start on these files.” He held the back door open for her. When she paused to lock up, he kept going, reaching the car well ahead of her.

By the time she slid behind the steering wheel, he had the file folder open, his brow furrowed with concentration, while he waited for her to unlock the door.

No doubt single-mindedness had made him the top criminal profiler he was, she thought as she buckled her seat belt. What he was doing was important and necessary.

But coming in second to a stack of crime-scene photos was rough on a girl’s ego.

ONCE ROSE DISAPPEARED through the doors of Office Park West, Daniel put down the case file and pulled out his handheld computer. He connected to the Internet and brought up a Web search engine. He punched “Andrew Walters kidnapping” into the small keypad and hit Enter. The search engine listed scores of articles from a variety of online newspapers.

He selected the story on the Borland Courier Web site-the local rag would probably have the most in-depth coverage. Scanning the archived article, he jotted down names. Lieutenant J. McBride was listed, along with McBride’s captain, Alex Vann, and another detective named Theo Baker.

Daniel needed to know what had happened during the Abby Walters’ kidnapping case to convince J. McBride that Lily Browning’s “visions” were the real thing. Was it really as simple as the man falling in love with her?

Daniel couldn’t buy that. He was halfway gone where Rose was concerned, but the more he felt himself becoming emotionally entangled with her, the more he fought the idea that she might actually be telling the truth about the death veils.

That was a madness he couldn’t afford.

He dialed the number, already having decided on his cover story. He asked for Theo Baker, figuring McBride wouldn’t talk to a stranger about his sister-in-law.

“Baker.”

“Detective, Dan Haley with the Montgomery Advertiser. I’m doing a follow-up story on the Walters kidnapping, and I wonder if you could spare a moment to discuss your part in the case.”

“I’m a little busy.” Baker sounded wary.

“I’m mostly interested in a side story-Lily Browning’s involvement in the case.”

“Hold a sec.” There was a click and then silence.

Interesting.

A moment later there was another click and a gruff voice asked, “You say you’re with the Montgomery Advertiser?”

“Yes. With whom am I speaking now?”

“Lieutenant McBride.”

The husband. Great. “Lieutenant, I’m doing a feature article on the use of psychics in criminal investigations, and I found an article that mentions a woman named Lily Browning who aided your investigation into the kidnapping of Abby Walters.”

“You said your name is Dan Haley?”

Time to drop names. “I spoke to an FBI agent named Cal Brody this morning. He mentioned the case.”

“Brody.” Distaste tinged McBride’s voice. “Figures.”

“Apparently, Ms. Browning’s sister, Rose, is a material witness in a string of murders in Birmingham.”

McBride’s voice deepened with alarm. “Rose?”

Daniel decided to go for broke. “She claims to be able to foresee the murders.”

McBride was silent for a long moment, so silent that Daniel was afraid he’d cut the connection.

“Lieutenant?”

“Foresee them how?” McBride’s voice was low and strangled.

He didn’t know about the death veils? Even more interesting.

“She calls them death veils.” Daniel briefly explained what Rose was claiming to see. When he finished, silence stretched across the phone line, thick and tense.

“I can’t help you,” McBride said finally. “Sorry.”

The line clicked dead.

Daniel put down the handheld computer. So much for tricking a cop for information. As devious ploys went, playing reporter hadn’t been the most inspired. But he’d learned one interesting tidbit: Rose’s family apparently didn’t know about the death veils.

He pushed aside his curiosity and picked up one of the police reports on the first murder. He began reading, making notes of similarities and disparities between the Birmingham murders and the others he’d been investigating over the past few years.

He’d made it through the second murder when his cell phone rang. He glanced at the phone display and found an unfamiliar number. He punched the receive button. “Yeah?”

“There’s no Dan Haley at the Montgomery Advertiser,” McBride’s gravelly voice greeted him. “There is, however, a former FBI profiler and current criminology professor named Daniel Hartman who happens to have this cell-phone number.”

Daniel sighed. “Hello, to you, too, Lieutenant.”

“I called Cal Brody, too. He wasn’t happy to hear you were shooting off your mouth about him and his murder investigation.”

“It’s my investigation now, too.”

“So why didn’t you just tell me who you were?”

“Would you have been any more willing to talk about your sister-in-law?”

“No,” McBride conceded.

“I mean her no harm,” Daniel assured him. “In fact, I consider her a friend. I’m sitting in her car right now.”

“Is she there?”

“No, she had a business appointment.”

“So, if I call and ask her who Daniel Hartman is and why he’s calling me behind her back, you’d be okay with that?”

Daniel sighed. “I’d rather you not do that.”

“Thought not.” A hint of smug satisfaction tinged McBride’s voice. “So, if you’re Rose’s friend, as you say, why not just ask her whatever it is you want to know?”

“At least, she’s told me about the death veils,” Daniel countered. “You don’t seem to know anything about them.”

“How long has she been seeing them?”

“I assumed it was something she thinks she’s been able to do since childhood.”

“‘She thinks,’” McBride repeated Daniel’s phrasing.

“I’m…unconvinced.”

McBride made a soft huffing sound that might have been a half chuckle. “Know the feeling.”

“You must have changed your mind at some point,” Daniel murmured. “After all, you married your psychic.”

McBride’s voice dropped an octave. “That’s none of your business.”

“Frankly, I’m more interested in why Rose has never told you or your wife about the death veils.”

“So am I,” McBride admitted. “Is she okay?”

Daniel cocked his head, surprised by the concern evident in the cop’s voice. Until this point, he’d shown nothing but surly antagonism. “She’s tougher than she looks.”

“How many murders are we talking about?”

“Four, so far. Here in Birmingham, at least.”

McBride’s voice darkened. “Serial murders?”

“Yeah.”

“Is Rose in danger?”

“Not immediate danger,” Daniel answered carefully. He didn’t have the right to share sensitive information about the investigation with someone outside the Birmingham Police Department, even with another lawman.

“Why did you call Theo Baker instead of me?” McBride asked.

“I thought he’d be more likely to be open about your wife’s involvement in the Walters kidnapping case.” Checking his watch, Daniel looked across the parking lot at the glass-fronted entrance of the office building. Rose had been inside for thirty minutes. She’d probably be on her way out soon.

“You’re right about one thing,” McBride said after a short pause, “these death veils are news to me.”

“So they’re not something she’s had all her life.”

“No, they’re not.”

Daniel frowned, remembering his conversation with the Willow Grove mayor soon after he’d met Rose. The mayor had implied that Rose and her sisters were well known in the community for their odd ways. Of course, if one sister claimed to be a psychic, maybe the whole family was tainted by it. “So I take it you thought your wife was the only one of her sisters with any sort of…unusual ability?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“It’s not a hard question to answer, Lieutenant.”

“All three of them have…unusual abilities,” McBride answered, his voice tight.

“But seeing death veils isn’t one of them?”

“Rose used to see something else. But she lost that ability a few months ago.”

“Around Christmas?” Daniel asked, reminded of what the Willow Grove mayor had told him about the murder-suicide Rose had witnessed.

McBride hesitated.

“I know about Carrie and Dillon Granville,” Daniel added, hoping to spur the detective into filling in the rest of the blanks. “I know Rose planned their wedding and I know that she walked in on Dillon right after he’d killed his wife. I know she saw him commit suicide.”

“That’s when it happened,” McBride conceded.

“When she lost her other gift.”

“Understandable, I guess,” McBride murmured. “The true-love veils had brought those two together. Seeing them ripped apart in such a violent, horrible way-”

“True-love veils?”

As he listened to McBride explain the concept of true-love veils in a flat, expressionless voice, Daniel’s stomach settled into a hot, queasy knot beneath his rib cage. It explained so much that had puzzled him about Rose-the sense he got from time to time that she had once been a very different woman.

Maybe it even explained the searching gaze she’d given him that morning as she’d taken him into her arms. Had she been looking for a true-love veil, some evidence that what they were about to do was more significant than just using sex to temporarily escape the looming specter of death?

“Are you still there?” McBride’s voice buzzed in his ear.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“I’m not going to try to convince you to believe what Rose is saying,” McBride said. “I wouldn’t have listened in your place. But I’ll tell you this. I saw Lily’s visions come true in ways I can’t explain. And even then, I almost didn’t listen to her. It would have cost me my daughter if I hadn’t. So be skeptical all you want. Convince yourself that she can’t possibly be right. But don’t ignore her.”

The hairs on the back of Daniel’s neck prickled.

“If she tells you something is going to happen, check it out,” McBride continued, his voice softening. “If she’s wrong, you’ve chased your tail for an hour or two. Big deal-you do that in any investigation. But if she’s right, you just might save a life.” McBride hung up without saying goodbye.

Daniel closed his phone and laid his head back against the headrest, shutting his eyes. McBride’s words rang in his head. Don’t ignore her.

Daniel released a slow breath, shaking his head. No worry there. He couldn’t ignore Rose Browning if he tried.

IF ANYTHING, Daniel was even more preoccupied when Rose returned to the car. He answered her attempts at small talk with flat, one-word responses, his gaze glued to the folder in his lap. Rose fell silent for the rest of the drive.

The meeting with Sandra Martin had gone well, a much-needed distraction from the past few tragic days. For a few minutes, Rose had almost felt the old excitement that had always made being a wedding planner the most enjoyable job in the world.

So much had changed that day in Bridey Woods.

Daniel followed her into the house and took a cursory look around before returning to the kitchen. “I’m going to my motel room to grab my things. Not a good idea, your living alone here while Orion is sending you messages.”

She licked her lips, the memory of his body, hard and hot against hers, sending heat flooding into her belly again. She tried to read his intentions in his shuttered expression. Was moving in here about more than keeping her safe?

“If you don’t have a spare room set up, I’ll make do with the sofa,” he added.

She crossed to the refrigerator and opened it, chiding herself for feeling disappointed. “I’ll put some clean sheets on the spare bed. You want something to eat before you go?”

He shook his head. “I’ll pick up something on the way back. Unless you’re too hungry to wait.”

Though she hadn’t eaten all day, the thought of food made her queasy. She closed the refrigerator door. “I can wait.”

“Chinese okay?”

“That’s fine. I like shrimp in lobster sauce.” She reached for her purse, but he closed his hand over hers.

“My treat.”

Beneath his fingers, her flesh tingled. Amazing how much one simple touch from him could affect her.

He let go of her hand. “When I get back, we need to talk about a few things,” he murmured.

She lifted her gaze, unnerved by the serious tone of his voice. His eyes locked with hers, his expression searching, as if she were a mystery to be solved.

Maybe she was. She didn’t understand herself these days; she could hardly expect it of Daniel.

“Lock the doors behind me and don’t let anyone in till I get back.” He headed for the back door.

She locked up behind him, parting the pale blue curtains covering the window in the back door to watch him stride up the slope to where his Jeep was parked in the alley. She didn’t let the curtains fall until he was out of sight.

With Daniel gone, silence surrounded her, looming and oppressive, broken only by the faint rumble of thunder in the distance. Dark clouds were rolling in from the west, promising a rainy night. With an old house like hers, there was a fifty-fifty chance the power would go out. That meant candles.

Candles and Daniel. A dangerous combination.

Restless, she went to the living room and put a CD in the player, turning the volume up until Patty Loveless’s raw alto bounced off the walls, driving the quiet into the recesses of the old house. By the third song, she was singing along, the music bleeding from her taut nerves. She pushed herself off the sofa and moved to the beat of the twangy waltz, tension flowing out of her as she twirled and swayed.

When her doorbell rang, the discordant noise scraped along the nerves of her spine, jerking her out of rhythm. She turned down the player and crept to the front door. Heart pounding, she peered through the fish-eye lens.

Her sister, Lily, stood on the porch.

Shaky with relief, Rose unlocked the door, barely resisting the urge to throw herself into her sister’s arms.

But the grim look on Lily’s face cut her relief short. “What’s wrong?”

Lily’s lower lip trembled. “When were you going to tell me about the death veils?”