Читать книгу Deceptions - Cynthia Eden - Страница 8
ОглавлениеShe should have been alone.
Elizabeth Snow had the late shift at the small library nestled on the outskirts of Austin, Texas. She was the one scheduled to close and secure the facility. She should have been the only one there.
So why had she just heard the faint pad of footsteps coming from the back?
Elizabeth froze a few feet from the library’s exit. Her purse was slung over her shoulder, and her fingers had a pretty strong death grip on the strap. Shadows loomed from the heavy shelves of books, seeming to reach for her.
Normally, the library was a haven for her. So safe. So secure. But...
It was late. Those shadows were thick and—
She heard a very distinct thud. As if a book had just fallen off a shelf. Or been knocked off. Elizabeth swallowed and called out, “Is someone there? The library is closed now. You need to leave.” She tried to use her firmest voice.
Silence.
Maybe her imagination was just a little too active. She had spent the last weekend watching a horror marathon on TV. Perhaps she was—
Thud. Okay, that definitely had sounded like a book falling to the floor. Someone is playing with me.
They’d never had any kind of security issue before. Sure, sometimes folks fell asleep among the library shelves, curled up at one of the tables, and those people would miss the announcements about closing time. But when she did her final walk-through, she gently woke them up and sent them on their way.
She’d done her walk-through a few minutes before and had found no stragglers.
“The library is closed!” She took a tentative step back toward her desk.
“Elizabeth...”
It was a whisper, raspy and low and male, and it had her tensing.
“Who’s there?” Elizabeth demanded, voice rising. “This isn’t funny. I’ll call security!” A total lie. There was no security at the library. Not then, anyway.
“Been...waiting...”
His voice sounded closer.
No, this could not be happening to her. “Stop it!” Elizabeth called. “Just—”
Someone banged on the door, a hard knock that had her yelling—screaming—in surprise and whirling toward the glass doors.
A tall man stood at the main entrance. His shoulders were wide, almost ridiculously so, and his powerful chest was obviously muscled. She recognized him on sight—it was rather hard to forget a man like him—and Elizabeth normally would have just paused to admire the very fine sight of MacKenzie “Mac” McGuire, but right then—
She flew toward the door. Her breath sawed in and out of her lungs, and her heart raced as her fingers fumbled to disengage the lock.
Mac held up his book, a thriller she’d picked out for him during his last visit to the library. “Sorry to come in so late,” he said, his voice that deep, rolling rumble that she secretly adored. “But I saw the light on and I figured you’d be—”
She grabbed him. His book tumbled to the floor. “Someone is in here.”
Mac’s green eyes narrowed on her. His face—a dangerously handsome face that maybe she fantasized a bit about—hardened. “What?”
She kept one hand on him and pointed behind her with the other. “I heard him. He’s back there, calling my name! I don’t—”
He pushed her behind him and immediately started stalking toward the shelves. She knew that Mac—like his brothers—had spent time in the military. According to the gossip she’d picked up, Mac was ex-Delta Force, as tough as they came. As he moved forward with the slow, steady stride of a predator, she could practically feel the battle-ready tension pouring off him.
She crept behind him, trying to move as softly as he did, but totally failing as her purse and keys jingled and jangled with her steps. Mac paused and glanced back at her, frowning.
She pointed to the left. “There,” Elizabeth mouthed. “He came from—”
Glass shattered. Only the sound hadn’t come from the left. It had come from the right. Mac took off running. She grabbed the first weapon she saw on her desk and rushed after him. Her high heels were slowing her down so she just kicked them off. She rounded the shelves, twisted around the library cart and then she—
Ran into Mac.
Their bodies collided with a hard impact and before she could send them both hurtling to the floor, Mac’s hands flew up and wrapped around her. He steadied them both, holding her easily. She’d never been so close to him before. Never fully appreciated just how strong the guy was or how good he smelled and—
“He’s getting away.”
Oh, yes, right. She tried to back up.
“A stapler?” Mac muttered. “What the hell?”
She glanced at her left hand and the weapon she’d grabbed moments before. The stapler was pretty solid. It could do some damage if used properly.
But Mac didn’t give her time to reply. He whirled toward the window. Whoever the mystery man had been, he’d shattered the glass as he made his getaway. Mac took a second to punch out more of the glass that jutted out from the window, and then he leaped out into the night. He ran forward, vanishing, and she peered out the window, staring after him as she held that stapler tight. An alarm began to beep. Finally, the library’s alarm had kicked in. It should have sounded as soon as the glass broke.
She leaned even closer to the window, straining to see Mac. It was so dark out there. Was he okay? What if he’d just run straight into an ambush of some kind? The fingers of her right hand brushed aside the glass.
A car’s revving engine vibrated in the night. There was a flash of headlights, and that vibrating engine grew louder as the vehicle raced away.
Someone was in here, calling my name. Someone had been stalking her.
Been waiting... His whisper drifted through her mind once again. She hated the fear that filled her. A fear that reminded her—no matter how far you run, there are some things you can’t escape.
“Mac?” Elizabeth called as the alarm kept beeping. The cops would arrive soon. The alarm company would contact them, but what good would they do? That car—and the man who’d been in the library—were long gone now.
“Mac?” His name was louder this time as she peered into the darkness. Where had he gone? What if that nut in the car had hurt him? Sure, she got that Mac was supposed to be some kind of super tough guy, but even tough guys didn’t win in fights with moving vehicles. What if he’d been hit; what if—
“Elizabeth.”
She whirled and swung the stapler at him.
Sighing, Mac caught her wrist in his hand. The move was incredibly fast. Scary fast. Super reflex fast. Then, keeping his right hand around hers, his left removed the stapler and tossed it aside. “He’s gone.”
And she was about to jump out of her skin. “You scared me to death!” Elizabeth accused him. “What were you thinking?”
His dark brows shot up. “I called your name three times. The alarm is so loud you just didn’t hear me.”
She blinked. “Oh. Right.”
“The system is set up to alert the cops, isn’t it?” He was still holding her hand. She could feel the roughness of calluses on his fingertips.
“It is,” Elizabeth said. She had to look back over her shoulder, peering out that window into the darkness once more.
“They’ll check the scene, but he’s long gone. I didn’t see a tag on the car. Didn’t see much of anything because the joker waited and tried to blind me with his bright lights.”
She remembered the flash of light that had burst into the darkness.
“Are you okay?” Mac asked her.
And...his fingers were sliding lightly against the inside of her wrist. The touch was almost a caress, and it made her nervous. Edgy. But then again, Mac usually made her feel that way.
He’d started coming into the library a few weeks ago. The first time she’d looked up and seen him standing on the opposite side of the checkout counter, her jaw had dropped. Sexy. That was the only word for Mac, with his dark hair, that hard jaw, his sensual lips and—
Sirens.
Sirens were screaming outside. The cops were responding way faster than she’d anticipated.
“Elizabeth,” Mac pushed. “Are you okay?”
She forced herself to smile. “Fine. I’m glad you were here.” That was probably one of the most honest things she’d said in months. If he hadn’t shown up, just what would she have done?
Mac didn’t release her. “Do you have any enemies, Elizabeth?”
She kept her smile in place. “I’m a librarian. I try really hard not to make too many people angry.”
He kept staring at her. No humor softened his face. Right. This wasn’t the time for humor.
She let her smile vanish. “Thank you.” Her voice was softer. The sirens were louder. “I owe you a serious debt of gratitude.”
He let her go. “I’ll collect on that debt.”
What?
“Later. For now, let’s go meet the cops before some uniform comes in here with guns blazing.” He steered her toward the main door. “Watch out for the glass.”
It crunched beneath their feet.
* * *
“HE DROPPED THE knife when he was running.” Mac hadn’t wanted to tell Elizabeth that fact; at least, not right away. He just hadn’t wanted to scare her too much.
But the cops had finished their sweep in the library, and now they were searching the road—and the exact spot where the would-be attacker had fled.
“There,” Mac said, pointing. “I didn’t touch it in case there were prints left behind.”
“A knife?” Elizabeth said, her normally husky, sexy voice turning into a sharp cry of fear. “What? He had a knife?”
Yes, and that fact had fury surging inside Mac. The cops hadn’t seemed overly concerned when they’d first appeared on the scene. He’d heard them muttering about kids and pranks. And he’d known they needed to get to the knife ASAP.
One bent and carefully inspected the knife. “A switchblade,” he said, and he glanced up at Mac. “You sure the guy dropped it? I mean, it’s really dark out here and—”
“He dropped it,” Mac said flatly. “So get it checked for prints.” When some bozo hid in a vacant library, waiting with a knife, the cops should know that meant trouble.
From the corner of his eye, Mac saw Elizabeth take a step back. Her hand was near her mouth and, if there’d been more light, he was sure he would have seen horror reflected in her warm brown eyes.
Elizabeth Snow.
He remembered the first time he’d seen the new librarian. He’d been there to study the newspaper archives, looking for any stories that might have hit when his mother first came to town, so long ago. Those records hadn’t been digitized, but there were microfiche copies in the library. It had been his first venture into old-school research.
And his first glimpse of Elizabeth.
Her hair had been loose around her shoulders, a dark curtain that framed her heart-shaped face. She’d been laughing when she turned toward him, but as soon as she glanced into his eyes, her laughter had stopped.
Don’t stop. His immediate thought. Because he’d liked the sound of her laughter.
Red had stained her high cheekbones, and her full lips had still been curved into a smile when she asked if she could help him.
In so many ways, so many.
The police lights were flashing around them, and he saw her trembling hand tucking her hair behind her ear. “He came after me with a knife?”
The uniforms shared a glance. “We don’t know exactly what his intentions were, ma’am,” one said carefully. “Maybe the guy thought he could rob you, possibly get some money from the cash register inside.”
“There is no cash inside. We charge for overdue books, that’s it. There’s not enough money in there worth stealing.” Her arms wrapped around her stomach. “And he called my name.”
Which meant, in Mac’s book, that the attack had definitely been personal. He edged closer to Elizabeth. Something was going on here, something that he was missing. When he’d asked her if she had any enemies, her voice had hitched a bit when she replied.
Lie.
So he couldn’t help but wonder: Just what sort of enemies would a sweet librarian have? And Elizabeth was sweet. She smelled like cinnamon, and he pretty much wanted to damn well gobble her up. He’d seen her reading to the kids, leading them in story-time dances. He’d seen her too much.
Hell... I’m the one turning into a stalker.
“And why were you here, Mr. McGuire?” one of the cops asked as if reading his thoughts.
“I—”
“He was turning in a book,” Elizabeth said quickly. “And I am so very glad that he was.”
Mac shrugged. “It was overdue.” A total lie. He’d just wanted to see her.
“I’ll waive that fine,” Elizabeth said, for some reason choosing to go along with his story as her fingers brushed his shoulder. Mac couldn’t help it—he tensed at her touch. It seemed as if an electric current shot right through him. There was just something about Elizabeth...
Her hand dropped.
She backed away.
Something about her, but the woman is not interested in me. He’d tried to ask her out before. A time or two. Or four. She’d shot him down every time.
He guessed that a rough and ready ex-Delta Force member wasn’t her idea of proper date material. Too bad. She should know that opposites could definitely attract.
“I called the library’s director,” Elizabeth said. “She’s coming to make sure the window is secured. She said the alarm team would be here soon, too.”
He glanced to the left. As if on cue, a blue SUV was pulling up. When the interior lights flashed on, he recognized the woman inside—Cathy Waite, the director.
“I have to talk with her,” Elizabeth said as she hurried off.
Mac didn’t follow her. Instead, he stepped closer to the cops. “When a man stalks a woman in a building like this, with a knife at the ready, that’s serious damn trouble.”
“W-we’ll run that knife—”
“He only fled when he heard me. That jerk had plans tonight. He was going to hurt her.” His hands clenched into fists. “You need to find that guy before he strikes again.” Before I get to him first.
Mac glanced over his shoulder at Elizabeth. She and Cathy were talking as a service truck pulled up.
“They can’t start working on that window yet,” one of the cops said when he spied the truck. “We’re not done with our investigation!” Then he was rushing forward.
Mac’s gaze slid to Elizabeth. She was rubbing her arms again, as if she was cold. He shrugged out of his jacket and headed toward her. When he put the jacket around her shoulders, she jumped a bit. Hell, he had to stop scaring her. Mac was used to moving silently, and sometimes he forgot how disconcerting that could be for people.
Her fingers curled around the jacket. “Thank you.” The damn thing swallowed her delicate frame. He glanced down and saw that she’d put her shoes back on. Earlier, she’d kicked them off and he’d seen her toes, painted a bright fire-engine red. The cops had returned the shoes to her.
“You should go,” Elizabeth said with a little nod. “The cops are here, Cathy’s here...we have to get things secured. You just... You’ve already gone above and beyond in your library-patron duty.”
“I don’t mind hanging around,” Mac said, trying to sound casual.
The flashing lights swirled around them. Elizabeth stepped a bit closer to him. Sweet cinnamon wrapped around him. “You don’t have to stay,” Elizabeth said softly. “But thank you for playing hero.” Then she started to take off his jacket.
He lifted his hand, stopping her. “Keep it. I’ve got others.” And he didn’t want her cold.
She flashed him a smile. “Like I said, I owe you, Mac.”
“Then maybe you can repay that debt by having a drink with me.” The words hung between them.
She bit her lip. A bad move because he found it sexy. He wanted to touch that lip, lick it. Maybe bite it. Not too hard, of course. What would his sweet librarian do then?
“I don’t think we’d be a good idea,” Elizabeth said.
Shot down for the fifth time. He was a man who could take a hint. “Why not?” He touched her cheek and saw the quick breath that she took. Saw the tremble that shook her. “I know you feel it, too.” It. That heady awareness between them. The connection that said they’d pretty much ignite together.
“I do.” She tipped back her head to stare up at him. “But I don’t think I can handle what you’d want from me.”
“I bet you could.”
“I heard the stories about you.” Her voice had dropped to a whisper. “You’re all about danger. Adrenaline.” Elizabeth shook her head. “That life isn’t for me. I can’t do that.”
He nodded. “I wasn’t asking you to head out on a mission with me. I was just talking about a drink.”
She laughed. Hell, he really liked that laugh. And for her to be able to laugh there, after everything that had happened...
“I do owe you, Mac,” Elizabeth said. “So I think I’d like that drink date.” She hesitated. “I just, I can’t offer more than that. You need to know that going in.”
“Understood.” He knew how to be a gentleman, though he was sure plenty of people would disagree. The rough and ready McGuire brothers had gotten a pretty strong reputation over the years, and gossip did like to fly.
He didn’t particularly care what the gossips thought. But Mac did care about what Elizabeth thought.
She hurried to join Cathy once more. Mac turned toward his car. He’d taken just a few steps when he stopped and glanced back at the now well-lit library.
What if the guy comes back?
* * *
MAC WAS A temptation she didn’t need. Elizabeth slammed her car door and hurried up the sidewalk to her house. She should be steering clear of the guy and everything that he represented. Instead, she’d agreed to drinks.
And she wanted more.
There was something between them—lust. Desire. She got that. She tried to play it cool around him, but a very large part of her wanted to jump the man on sight.
Her heels clicked over her sidewalk as she hurried home. She glanced around, a bit nervous, but her neighborhood was safe. There were plenty of dogs close by. Plenty of helpful, wonderfully nosy folks like her neighbor Judy Lee, who kept a watch on things.
Her key slid into the lock. She should cancel that drink date with Mac. Though, technically, they hadn’t planned a date. They’d just said they would have drinks. Sometime. Somewhere. And she would not jump him.
She most definitely would not let her wild side out with Mac, even though he did tempt her. He made her want things...excitement, passion...things that could be dangerous.
As dangerous as he is.
She went into her house. Flipped on the light. And—
Her phone rang.
Fumbling, Elizabeth pulled out the phone and frowned at the screen. She didn’t recognize the number that appeared there. A number, no name.
Who could be calling her at this hour? She rarely ever gave out her own number. She hadn’t even given it to Mac. But she had given it to the police. Maybe they’d caught the guy already! She kicked the door shut with her foot, flipped the lock and answered, “This is Elizabeth—”
“Beth.”
Ice poured through her veins.
“I know what he’s after, Beth. I can help you.”
“Who is this?” She put her back to the door, and her tight grip probably came close to splintering her phone.
“We both found you, but we can stop him.”
“Who is this?” Elizabeth demanded again as fear pulsed through her. First the attack, now this guy... Why is this happening?
“Meet me now. Before it’s too late.”
“Too late for what?” Elizabeth turned and peered through her blinds. Had a car just glided to a stop in front of Ms. Lee’s? It was so dark under that big tree, it was hard to tell for certain, but a car could be there. “I think you’ve got the wrong woman.”
“I was there, in Colorado, Beth.” His voice sounded vaguely familiar. “I want to help you.”
The guy at the library had wanted to hurt her. “What you need to do is leave me alone,” she said, injecting a note of steel into her voice. “Stay away from me.”
“You’re in danger!”
“Are you threatening me?” She was pretty sure that she’d just seen a shadow move out there beneath the tree. Her knees were knocking together.
“I’m trying to help you!”
Right. Was she supposed to foolishly believe that? The guy wouldn’t even tell her who he was!
“Look, I couldn’t let the past go. I was asking questions, talking too much—I showed my hand too soon.”
Okay, now she was just lost.
“Because of that, we’re both in danger.”
She still had on Mac’s jacket, but a chill skated down her spine.
“I know I’m being hunted, and so are you. Meet me,” he said, his voice still oddly familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it. She usually had a knack for remembering voices. “Now. I’m close to a bar on Avers Street. A place called Rustic. Meet me in the alley outside.”
Sure. Because she had a death wish. She’d just skip right into a dark alley with a stranger who called her the same night that she’d nearly been attacked.
“I can help you stop him.” His voice deepened. “I know what happened before, okay? I was there. I reported on it.”
Reported—with that one word, his voice clicked, and she had a flash in her mind of a man—tall, a little thin, with sandy-blond hair and blue eyes that she’d actually thought held compassion.
But that had been a lifetime ago. Elizabeth had been a different person back then.
“You have me confused with someone else,” she said.
“Beth, no, don’t hang up.” His breath heaved out in a sigh that filled the phone. “You came to Texas because of what happened, didn’t you? Because this was his home? Part of you has to be looking for closure. I want that closure, too! I figured it out—everything. Come see me and we can stop— Ah!”
His words ended on a sharp cry. A cry of pain?
“Hello?” Elizabeth said. “Are you okay?”
Click. Silence. The call had ended.
“Hello?” She hit the call-back button but the line just rang and rang. After a few moments voice mail picked up.
This is Steve Yeldon. If you’ve got a story for me, leave a message. Otherwise...why are you calling me?
Steve Yeldon. That name was straight from her past. Elizabeth lowered the phone and stared at the screen. She remembered that reporter. He’d been young, only a few years older than she was. He hadn’t attacked her, not the way so many others had. He’d kept asking for her side of the story.
She hadn’t wanted to talk.
But that had been years ago.
Her finger slipped over her phone’s screen one more time. His last cry had sent goose bumps rising over her arms and had dread lodging in her heart. She tried calling back once more, needing to actually talk to him again and have Steve tell her that he’d just been disconnected, that everything was fine—
Someone answered the phone. She could hear the rush of breath.
“Hello?” Elizabeth said. “Is this Steve Yeldon?”
The rush of breath came over the line again.
“Steve, look, I don’t want—”
“Steve can’t talk right now.”
The low, raspy voice sent more shivers over her. “Who is this?”
“I’ll see you soon, Elizabeth.”
A distinct click filled her ears as fear knotted her stomach.
Her first instinct was to call the cops, to get to that alley but—
The cops didn’t believe me before. Not back when she’d first met Steve Yeldon. Her past with the cops was twisted and dark. She didn’t turn to them these days. Mostly because she didn’t trust them to help her.
But Steve needs help.
And she...she was the only one who could help him.
Elizabeth straightened her shoulders and grabbed for her car keys.
