Читать книгу Deceptions - Cynthia Eden - Страница 10
ОглавлениеElizabeth was late for work. Not a little late, but very, very late. She had a 1:00 p.m. shift, but it was close to two when Elizabeth dashed out her front door.
She’d taken five stumbling steps on her sidewalk when she remembered... I don’t have a car! She’d left it in Austin and—
Her frantic gaze locked on the sturdy frame of her car, parked at the end of her driveway. Relief rushed through her. Mac must have brought it back for her. He’d dropped her off, she’d crashed and had terrible nightmares and now—
Now a man was walking toward her. He’d just exited the SUV parked near Ms. Lee’s mailbox. He was tall, with broad shoulders and dark hair. His sunglasses shielded his gaze, but the expression on his face sure looked intent and determined.
Elizabeth staggered and wobbled in her heels. “Stay back!”
“I’m Sullivan.”
Sullivan? That name was oddly familiar, and he looked familiar, too.
“Mac’s brother,” he told her as he took off the glasses. Sure enough, he had the distinct McGuire green gaze. “And I’m your protection for the day.”
Her protection? “I thought Mac was handling the case.”
“With the McGuires, you don’t just get one of us, you get us all.”
That was...reassuring?
His hand lifted, and he dangled some keys from his fingertips. “I figured you might need these, considering the way you were racing toward the car.”
“Did you bring it over?”
“Mac did.”
She took the keys. “Thank you. I—I have to get to work. I called my boss and told her I was running late. I’m never late.” It seemed important to tell him that. Who knew what he’d already heard about her?
His head inclined. “I’ll be tailing you.”
He was— “Are you really going to be following me? All day?”
“Just until Mac gets back.”
Her fingers curled around the keys. “And where is Mac, exactly?”
“At the morgue.”
She backed up a step.
“He’s learning more about the dead reporter and seeing if he can discover what evidence the cops have so far.”
No, it wasn’t all a bad dream. A killer is out there, and he may be watching me. Her gaze darted down the street. Everything looked normal.
“Just how well do you know my brother?” Sullivan asked her as he studied her.
“Not well. I’m his librarian.”
Sullivan’s dark brows shot up, and his lips curved. “Right.”
“I am.” She straightened her shoulders. “And like I told you, I’m late. So I really have to hurry.” She scrambled past him and unlocked her car. But before she slid in, Elizabeth said, “Thank you. For the protection, I mean. I appreciate it.”
He inclined his head toward her. “I get the feeling that if anything happened to you, there’d be hell to pay from Mac. I guess he’s pretty fond of his librarian.”
What? Shaking her head, she cranked the car and drove away. A quick glance in her mirror showed that Sullivan was coming after her, climbing into that SUV and following right behind her.
Protection.
She shivered.
* * *
THE PHONE ON her desk rang hours later and Elizabeth reached out automatically, answering in what she thought of as her professional library voice as she said, “This is Elizabeth Snow. How may I help you?”
“You can die, Elizabeth.”
“Excuse me?”
“Should’ve happened years ago. When you were hiding in that cabin as your boyfriend bled out,” his raspy voice said. “The young lovers could’ve died together.”
She shot to her feet. Sullivan was about fifteen feet away, thumbing through a magazine. She waved frantically to him.
“Stop it,” that voice snapped. “I can see you.” Then laughter. “Do you really think the McGuires are going to stand in my way? I can just eliminate them, too.”
She stopped waving. She barely breathed.
“Better, but it’s too late. He’s already closing in, isn’t he?”
Sullivan was marching toward her.
“You’ll pay for that,” the voice promised her. “You’re going to pay for everything.”
Click.
“Elizabeth?” Sullivan was in front of her. “What’s happening?”
She glanced down at the phone in her hand. “He called me again.” Her shoulders hunched as she glanced around the library. Her voice dropped to a whisper as she said, “He’s here. He could see me and you.”
The staff at the library had already been put on alert about her previous attack, but there were only a few other employees at that location, and the last thing she wanted to do was put any of them in harm’s way.
Sullivan’s face tensed. “We’re leaving.”
“I—I can’t! My shift still has hours to go—”
“A killer just threatened you.”
“And you,” she told him quietly. “He threatened you, too.” She didn’t even know who the guy was. A glance at the screen on the phone showed only...Unknown caller. Could they trace the call from the library? Surely they could—traces happened all the time on the crime shows she’d seen on TV.
“Come with me,” Sullivan ordered. “Now.” Then he was hurrying around her desk and taking her elbow. The guy seriously double-timed it as he started rushing her through that library. “Look around,” he said, voice curt. “See if you notice anyone who doesn’t belong. Someone who sticks out.”
They were hunting the killer. Only, she didn’t see a killer. Shouldn’t he have stuck out in some way? She saw moms and their kids. She saw the seniors’ group. She saw her usual Friday afternoon crowd.
But her stomach was knotted with worry. The guy on the phone had been there. He’d seen Sullivan.
Wait, no...he hadn’t said that he saw Sullivan.
I can see you.
She stopped walking. “He saw me.” There was something about that, something that was bugging her. “He saw me,” she said again, and then she was pulling away from Sullivan and hurrying back to her desk. She’d assumed the killer was in the library, but her desk was right next to a big picture window.
A window that looked out to the very busy street.
Her car was parked nearby, just under a sprawling tree. Going on instinct now, she hurried toward the library’s exit.
“Elizabeth!” Sullivan called her name and nearly everyone in the library turned to stare. Jeez, didn’t the guy know you were supposed to be quiet in there?
“He’s outside!” She shoved open the door.
He grabbed her and pulled her close. It...it wasn’t like when Mac touched her. She didn’t get that hot thrill of electricity coursing through her veins. Her breath didn’t heave. She didn’t—
“What in the hell are you doing, Sully?” Mac demanded, his voice low and lethal.
Her head whipped to the right, and she found Mac standing on the top step leading toward the library. His eyes were narrowed, his face tense, and he sure was giving his brother a furious glare.
“I’m stopping your librarian from running into trouble.”
Why did he keep saying it like that? Librarians were awesome. Time for the guy to seriously recognize that fact and stop putting a weird emphasis on the word.
“The killer just called her, and now she’s running out to face him. I was going to run a trace on the call, but she’s dead set to head right into danger.”
She jerked away from Sullivan. “He was out here, I know it.” Not in the library because that wouldn’t give him a fast exit. Not with all those people milling around.
She hurried to Mac and caught his hand in hers. “Come on. I think he was on the right side of the building.” He would have been able to see her from there.
Mac went with her, but she noticed that he seemed to be shielding her body with every step, moving so that if any threat came, it would have to go through him first. Sweet, protective and—
Her tires were flat. Completely flat. It looked as if someone had just taken a knife and stabbed them.
Sullivan swore.
She turned and looked at the library. Through that gleaming window, she could see her desk. The killer had been right out there when he called her. When he told her that he’d be coming for her and that he would eliminate the McGuires.
I can’t let that happen.
“Get that damn trace going, Sullivan,” Mac ordered. “Now.”
* * *
MAC CROSSED HIS arms over his chest and studied Elizabeth. The tension pouring off her filled the room. Her bedroom. She was shoving clothes into her little black suitcase just as fast as she could.
“Running isn’t the option you want to take here.” He tried to sound reasonable.
She grabbed more clothes, and he saw a sexy scrap of lace dangling from her fingertips before she pushed the lace into her bag. “You act like this is the first time I’ve been through a mess like this.”
He straightened. “The bozo has come after you before?”
She shook her head. “I don’t want you involved anymore. Not you. Not your brother. I’ll be fine.”
Fine? He stalked toward her and stepped into her path before she could make another clothing run. “Someone wants you dead.”
“And I’ll stop him, okay? I’ll deal with this. I’m not running away.” Her shoulders straightened. “I’m just going back to the beginning. That’s the way to end this mess, not running. And not hiding behind the McGuires.”
“Protection isn’t hiding.” And she needed protection. The trace on the call at the library had turned up nothing. No doubt the guy was using a burner phone for his games.
You aren’t going to keep playing with her, buddy. Mac wasn’t going to let that happen.
“He threatened you. Threatened your family.” Her gaze seemed tortured. “You don’t know me, Mac. You can’t risk yourself—or them—for me.” Her voice roughened. “Trust me, you won’t think I’m worth that risk.”
You’re wrong. “You promised me twenty-four hours.”
“Because I was exhausted! I wasn’t thinking clearly. I should have never involved you.” For a moment her brow furrowed. “I still don’t even know why you were in that alley.”
He stepped closer to her, and her sweet cinnamon scent slid around him. “I followed you.”
She backed up. “I—I don’t get why—”
“I followed you from the library. I waited outside your home, and when you rushed out of that place, I knew something was wrong. I wasn’t about to let you ride off alone.” Not then, and not now.
“You don’t know me,” she said again. “Just—”
“I want to know you.”
Her lips parted.
“You’re sexy and you’re smart and every time I go into that damn library, I’m there because I’m looking for you. I’m looking to see if you’ll flash that slow smile of yours when I head up to the counter. Looking to see if you’ll talk to me just a little bit longer.”
“But you— Why?”
He’d just covered the why. “I want you.” There, he’d been more than blunt. “I have since the first moment I saw you. And you might think I’m too rough or dangerous for you, but it doesn’t change how I feel.” I want you naked in bed with me. I want to be the one to drive you crazy. Because he would bet his life that she had a fierce wildness chained inside herself. He’d sensed it from the very first moment they’d met.
“You’ve got danger chasing you now,” he said, staying close to her, wishing that she’d open up to him. “And I’m the best man to have at your side right now. I’m not going to flinch away from anything that’s coming. You said that jerk threatened my family? That’s all the more reason for me to take him down. I don’t want him running around loose. He’s a killer, and he should be stopped.”
He could see the uncertainty in her gaze. “I don’t want to drag anyone else into this mess,” Elizabeth whispered.
“I’m a PI. I live for this stuff.”
She didn’t smile. He wanted her to smile. He wanted some of the worry to ease from her beautiful face.
He also didn’t want her leaving without him.
“That phone call you got couldn’t be traced. This guy is good, Elizabeth. He’s covering his tracks and he is hunting you.” That infuriated him. “Let me help you. Let me do my job and keep you safe.”
“I know,” Elizabeth said suddenly, “about your family. I heard what happened to your parents.”
Mac didn’t let his body tense. Most folks in the area knew about his family. It was hard to keep a double murder hidden. One dark night, while Mac and his brothers had been fighting battles on the other side of the world, their parents had been killed. Their murderers had never been captured. Because of that—hell, that was why his family had formed McGuire Securities. To help other victims. To solve crimes that the cops had already marked as “cold” because there was no new evidence in those cases.
“Your family has been through enough. Do you really want me to put them all in more danger?”
“There’s one thing about us,” he murmured. “We can handle danger.”
“Maybe Steve thought he could handle danger, too.”
“Maybe,” Mac allowed. “But according to the ME, Steve didn’t have the chance to put up a fight. He had no defensive wounds at all on his body.” Mac had made good use of his time away from her, and he’d been very aware of the ticking clock on that twenty-four-hour period. “The attacker was able to get up close to him, and the guy made one hit—just one—a stab right in Steve’s heart.”
She paled.
“It stands to reason,” Mac continued, “that Steve would try to fight off an attacker, if he saw the attacker coming.”
“He was distracted,” she said softly. “Talking to me.” Elizabeth cleared her throat. “He might not have even seen the danger...”
Not until the attacker plunged a knife into him.
The sneak attack, the deadly precision...this wasn’t some kind of amateur hour. The guy they were after was good—too good.
“And you might not see it, either,” she whispered. “The last thing I want is for you to be killed.” She stumbled back.
“Do you want to find a knife in your heart, too?” The words were brutal, but they had to be said. “Because when I raced into that alley—” and he would not be forgetting that damn scene anytime soon “—the attacker was there. And he was going for you.”
“I managed to fight him off.” Her body was stiff.
“He wasn’t done, baby.” Again, the endearment slipped out. “If I’d been a few minutes later, he could have killed you.”
She turned away from him.
“I would have found your body crumpled on the ground, just like his.” That infuriated him. And...scared him.
He wasn’t supposed to be afraid. Delta Force members didn’t show fear. They went straight into battle, and they never backed down.
But when he’d heard her cry out, when he’d stood in that alleyway...
Fear and fury had burned through him.
He went to her and put his hand on her shoulder. Carefully, he turned her to face him. “I don’t want you hurt.”
“You shouldn’t care about me,” she told him. “I’m not who—”
He kissed her. Maybe he shouldn’t have. Maybe he should have played the gentleman longer, but he needed to taste her. Needed to see if the passion between them would flare as hot and bright as he’d thought.
It did.
Her mouth opened beneath his. Her hands rose and curled over his shoulders. Elizabeth pressed her body to his, and she kissed him back—not with hesitation, but with hot, fierce need.
Just like that...just like that...an explosion seemed to go off inside him. His arms locked around her waist as he pulled her closer. Her breasts pushed against him, her nipples tight, even as his arousal pressed against her. He’d tried to hold back with her, all of those damn trips to the library, books he’d read again and again...
There was no holding back now.
She was trying to leave, trying to walk straight into danger and death, and he couldn’t let that happen. Not when he needed her so much.
His tongue thrust into her mouth. She tasted sweet, a light, heady flavor that just made him want more. Her lips slid over his, caressing and tempting, and he wanted to push her back onto that bed. He wanted to strip her. He wanted Elizabeth to stop being afraid and to only think of him.
But...she was pushing against his chest.
He lifted his head. The drumming of his heartbeat pounded in his ears as he stared down at her. “I knew it would be like that,” he growled.
“I was afraid it would be,” she told him. Her lips were red from his kiss. Her dark eyes gleamed.
Afraid of their desire? Why was that a bad thing?
“I have to stop this guy,” Elizabeth said. “I can’t be some kind of sitting duck for him.”
No, he wouldn’t let her be. “You gave me twenty-four hours.”
She nodded. Her hands were still on his shoulders. His hands were still enjoying her curves.
“Then stick to your word,” he said, trying to keep the desperate edge out of what he was saying. “Give me the rest of my time. You think you’ll find out what’s happening by going home—back to your past? I say you’ll find the truth right here in town. And I’ll help you.”
Her brows rose. “How?”
“By taking you on a little bit of B and E.”
“Breaking and entering?” Her fingers tightened on him. “That’s not exactly law-abiding.”
No, it wasn’t. “Since we’ll be breaking into a dead man’s home, I don’t think he’s going to press charges.”
Her breath whispered out. “You think we’ll find something we can use at Steve’s place?”
He nodded. “So what do you say? You going to stick to your word and not run away from me?”
“I just want you safe.”
“I will be.” And you will be. No matter what he had to do, she would be safe.
* * *
IT WASN’T HER first B and E. Not really. Long ago, she’d broken into a cabin with her boyfriend. Their car had broken down on a lonely Colorado road. The snow had rolled in, and they’d needed some shelter for the night.
She hadn’t known they’d find death out there. She hadn’t realized only one of them would ever walk out of that cabin.
“You ready?” Mac asked her.
Elizabeth forced herself to nod. This wasn’t some abandoned cabin. This was a house in Austin. They were in the middle of a neighborhood. Totally safe.
Right?
He did something to the lock. She saw the flash of a pick—the guy had come prepared—and there was a faint click. Then Mac was heading inside the house, turning on lights and quickly shutting the door behind them.
It was eerie being in a dead man’s home. Everything just looked...frozen. There was a coffee mug near the sink. A folded newspaper was on the kitchen table. A shirt was thrown over the back of the couch.
“You didn’t know he was in town?” Mac asked her.
She shook her head. “That’s weird, right? That he was here...that I was here...” A coincidence? Or something more?
“I did some checking on him,” Mac said as he began to open desk drawers. She noticed that he’d put on gloves. “Apparently, he’d written a few books in the past few years.”
She stood in front of Steve’s bookshelf. Elizabeth scanned the titles. “A Knife in the Dark. Murder in the Suburbs.” Elizabeth glanced back at him. “S.R. Yeldon... I know these titles. They’re all true-crime books.”
Mac moved to a new drawer. “Right. The guy made his living by taking cold cases and solving them.” He exhaled on a long sigh. “Something I admire. Wish I could have met him.”
Her heart beat a bit faster. “He must have been working on a story about Nate.” That was the only thing that made sense.
“The cops confiscated his computer, so we won’t have access to that.” He headed into the bedroom and she quickly followed. “But I’m betting he kept some kind of notes. Some backup...something.”
He opened the closet door. She crept closer to him. He was really confident on this whole break-in thing. “What happens if the cops find us here?”
“We’ll get arrested.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re the one who made me confess all to that detective! And now you—”
He laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ve got an in at the PD I can always use. I was just messing with you.”
That wasn’t reassuring. She didn’t think he’d just been messing with her, either.
“What do we have...here?” He reached up and pulled down a brown bag from the top of the closet.
Her brows climbed. “You have a suitcase. That’s exactly what you have—”
He opened it. Notebooks and photos spilled out.
“Okay, I’m impressed.” She knelt on the floor next to the photos. “How did you know that anything was in there?”
“Because all of the other bags were covered in a layer of dust. This one wasn’t.” He started thumbing through the photos. After a few moments he gave a low whistle. “This is you.”
She peered over his shoulder. Yes, that was her. A shot of her that had been taken right after Nate’s murder. A police officer was pushing her into the back of a patrol car.
For just a moment, a memory of that scene flashed into her mind. So strong and clear.
“Miss...what happened here last night?” The cop’s eyes had been kind.
At first, anyway.
“There was so much blood.” She leaned forward and picked up another photo. Revulsion poured through her. That shot—it was one of the crime scene photos. Nate’s handsome face was so still, and the pool of blood beneath him was clear to see. So much blood.
“In the picture, you didn’t have any blood on you,” Mac said.
“No...no, I—I only touched him once. To see if he had a pulse.” But even then, she’d known it was too late.
Mac’s head tilted. “I need to know everything, Elizabeth. Just what went down in your past?”
Hell.
“You know you have to tell me.”
“I can’t tell you what I don’t know.” She saw another photo. This one was of the cabin’s exterior. The snow had been so white. It had been so cold. She’d been in that closet, shivering, for hours and hours before she’d heard the voices of the police officers.
“Elizabeth—”
“What’s in the notebooks?” That mattered. She reached for one, flipped it open, and she saw her name at the top of the page. Her name and age and—
Possible accomplice? The words were written in a rough script.
Her phone rang, making her jump and drop the notebook. She pulled out the phone and read the words on her screen. Unknown caller.
“Put it on speaker,” Mac instructed her.
She slid her finger over the screen and then hit the icon for the speaker.
“I know where you are,” the low voice told her.
“And I’m getting sick of you calling me,” Elizabeth fired back.
Mac’s gaze shot to her. It seemed like—admiration?—lit his stare.
“Don’t worry, Elizabeth. This will be your last call.”
A shiver slid down her spine.
“I knew you’d search his house. Did you find the surprise I left for you? Tick, tick...”
Mac swore. He grabbed her arm, dragging her to her feet. The photos and the notebooks fell from her lap.
“Stop!” Elizabeth said—the order both to Mac and the psycho on the phone. “I don’t know what you—”
“Goodbye, Elizabeth,” that voice told her. “You can’t hide this time. I see you. And the new lover. You’ll go out together in a blaze of fury.”
A blaze of... Understanding burst through her. He’d said tick, tick.
Mac dragged her out of the closet. “There’s a bomb! We need to get out of here!”
But the evidence was in there! They couldn’t leave the photos and the notebook. She jerked away from him and ran back for the closet.
“Elizabeth, no!” Mac bellowed. Then he grabbed her and—
They didn’t make it out.
An explosion shook the house. Fire erupted in a big, tumbling wave, spiraling out from the den. Mac threw his body toward Elizabeth, and they hit hard in the closet, falling even as the world exploded around them.
* * *
WHEN THE FIRE lit the sky, he smiled. Two more problems eliminated.
That had been easy. He’d made that last call to assure himself that Elizabeth was inside the house. It wouldn’t have done for her to be outside when the bomb exploded. But he’d been able to tell by her fear—you were inside, weren’t you, Elizabeth? Did it hurt when the fire erupted? Did you have time to scream?
The fire was so big and bright. When would a neighbor call the fire department? How long would it be before the victims were hauled out?
The explosion would never be traced back to him. Steve’s so-called evidence would be destroyed. The last link—Elizabeth Snow—would be dead.
He didn’t have to worry about the past any longer.
Time to concentrate on his future. Retirement was definitely in order.
