Читать книгу After The Dark - Cynthia Eden - Страница 13

CHAPTER FOUR

“LET ME GET this straight.” Captain Roger Lewis steepled his fingers just beneath his chin. His dark eyes were sharp and hard as they swept over Blake. “You want me to do a full-scale manhunt because you believe I’ve got a potential serial killer on the loose in my town?”

Beside Blake, Samantha stiffened. He saw her tense from the corner of his eye, but he kept his attention focused on the local police captain. After he’d talked to Tammy White, he’d known that he needed to bring the local authorities in right away.

“Cameron Latham?” Lewis’s eyebrows rose. “That bastard is here?”

Lewis was an older African American man, probably in his early sixties, but still fit and strong. Intelligence glittered in his gaze, and the guy hadn’t minced words when he brought Blake and Samantha into his small office.

But the way he talked about Latham...the way the guy’s stare had just cut toward Samantha... Why do I feel as if I’m missing something here?

Blake cleared his throat. “The Bureau tracked the call that the suspect made—the call came from here in the city. The man who used Cameron’s credit card is here,” Blake stated. He was in Fairhope and he was hunting. “You need to alert all of your patrols to be extra vigilant. This man is extremely dangerous. He’s killed before.” Kristy. “And I think he’ll kill again.” He exhaled. “Because Cameron Latham’s credit card was used in this city, we have to operate under the assumption that he may be present. I’m not saying a copycat isn’t at work, I’m saying we need to follow all precautions. Your men should receive an immediate description of Latham, and they need to step up their patrols in the area.” Four months ago, everyone had known about Latham, but people—even law enforcement officials—had short memories.

Lewis’s gaze cut to Samantha. “Do you think it’s a copycat or is the bastard here?’

She inclined her head toward him. “I think we’re dealing with an incredibly dangerous man. A man who wants to emulate Cameron Latham. But we can’t afford to overlook any possibility. It wouldn’t be safe to do that.”

“Son of a bitch.” Lewis raked his hand over his face. “I’m in a small town for a reason. This shit isn’t supposed to happen here.” He rose. “I’ll alert my men. And if there is anything else I can do to help you, say the word.”

It was always so much easier when the local authorities cooperated.

Blake rose and offered the other man his hand. “I appreciate that.”

Lewis had a strong shake. Very strong. “I trust Samantha’s judgment.”

What?

The captain inclined his head toward her. “You were her partner at the Bureau. She told me...you’re a good man.”

No, he wasn’t. Not always.

“It’s getting late,” Lewis continued. “Why don’t you take Sammie back home, and I’ll contact my officers?”

Sammie?

But Lewis wasn’t hanging around for his response. The captain had already left the office. Blake glanced at Samantha, frowning.

“You’re lucky,” she murmured, her gaze on Lewis’s back. “This small town happens to have the best damn police captain in the state. You can count on him to help you out.”

Good to know. “You’re close to him?”

A faint smile curved her lips. “He’s the only father I’ve had since I was thirteen. So, yeah, we’re close.”

Surprise rocked through him. Samantha and her secrets...she always kept him guessing. One day, though, he’d learn all there was to know about her.

“Let’s get out of here,” she murmured. She rose and headed for the door. “I can’t shake the feeling that he’s out there, watching.”

Blake caught her hand. I did this. I brought him here. “Samantha...he’s not going to get to you.”

She turned toward him, her body brushing against his. “That’s the thing. I’d rather he come after me. And not pick some other woman like Kristy. I can fight back. I was a trained agent. I don’t want anyone else being the victim.” Her eyes gleamed up at him. “I don’t want anyone suffering because he’s trying to get to me.”

* * *

IT HAD BEEN one crazy day.

Tammy White locked the door to Connoisseur’s Delight and stepped into the small alley behind the building. Her car was parked in the garage down the street, about forty yards away. The sun was starting to set, snaking across the sky and turning it a deep red.

The FBI agent had made her nervous. He’d stayed at the store, asking all sorts of questions. And then things had finally clicked for her.

Cameron Latham. Oh, Jesus, she hadn’t even recognized the guy’s name at first. She heard dozens of names every single day. They didn’t stick out for her. So when the caller had placed the order, she hadn’t given a second thought to his name.

Until the intense agent and the dark-haired lady had shown up. They’d pushed with their questions, and she’d finally made the connection.

The Sorority Slasher. Cameron Latham. He’d been such a big deal in the news months ago, but the guy had seemingly vanished from the face of the earth. She’d forgotten all about him.

I won’t be forgetting now.

Her steps quickened as she headed toward the garage. She couldn’t wait to tell her roommate, Jemi, about everything that had happened. Her friend was going to flip. Maybe they should call the news. Or one of those tabloids. Those reporters liked these kinds of stories, right?

“Did she like the champagne?”

The question came from the shadows just inside of the parking garage. Tammy opened her mouth to scream, but a man lunged toward her. He slapped one hand over her mouth even as the other yanked her close to him.

He was handsome. That thought flashed through her mind as the fluorescent light shone down on them. His face was handsome. His hair was stylish. He had perfect teeth as he smiled at her.

He didn’t look evil, but...

He is.

Tammy struggled against him, but his grip was tight. Punishing.

“I hope she liked the gift. I was just so happy to find her that I needed her to understand I was here.”

He was yanking her toward a gleaming luxury sedan. A big, fancy car.

“But then I got to thinking...”

She kicked him hard, and his grip slackened on her. Tammy took that opportunity, and she jerked out of his grip. She lunged forward—

But he yanked her back. He spun her around, and his fist slammed into her face.

She heard bones crunch, and she felt wetness—blood—splash over her lips as it poured from her nose. Her whole body slumped, and he seized that moment to lift her up and shove her into his waiting car. Dazed, she didn’t even fight him.

This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening.

“I got to thinking...” He cranked the car. “She’s going to need more than a bottle of champagne to realize the hunt is on. She’s going to need a victim.”

Tammy tried to grab for the door handle.

And that was when his hand flew out, and the knife came toward her.

* * *

BLAKE STOOD AT her front door, staring down at her. He’d brought her back from the police station. The ride had been quiet, intense. Too many emotions had seemed to fill the air between them.

Danger was waiting. Samantha could feel it in the air. A killer was coming. There was no more hiding.

Her breath eased out. “Thank you for the ride.”

He growled. That was the only word for it—a growl. Rough and animalistic, and the sound made Samantha’s heartbeat quicken.

“You think that’s the way it ends? I bring you home and I just walk away, knowing some bastard is out there? Someone who seems to be after you?”

She didn’t want him to walk away. Samantha’s hand lifted and pressed to his chest. “Blake—”

“Screw that.” His words were ragged. “I’m not playing by the rules any longer. You matter too much.”

And then...Blake was kissing her. Samantha’s hands flew up and flattened against his chest. She could feel the strength of his muscles beneath her touch. She intended to shove him back. After all, they were partners and they couldn’t—

We’re not partners, not any longer. I’m not FBI. I’m a civilian. There’s no line that we can’t cross.

Her hands pressed to him, but she didn’t push him back. She’d thought about his mouth for a long time, wondered how he would kiss, how he would taste. Wondered what it would be like to just let herself go with him.

She didn’t have to wonder any longer. Samantha’s lips parted beneath his, and when his tongue thrust into her mouth, a low moan built in her throat. She found herself rising onto her tiptoes, leaning toward him, wanting more of his kiss.

Still waters run deep. That was the old saying. She’d always suspected he had some very, very deep waters. Deep water, deep passion. If he just let his control go, if she let hers go...

No.

Samantha stepped back, sliding from his embrace. Her heart was thundering in her chest, and her breasts—her nipples—were tight with arousal. All from one simple kiss. Blake Gamble was dangerous to her. Another truth she’d always known. She felt too much with him. Too much, too fast.

“I’m not going to apologize for that kiss.” His voice was a sexy, rough rasp that sent a shiver down her spine.

“Don’t remember...asking you to do that.” She remembered kissing him back with a wild hunger. “We’re adults. We can—”

“I’ve wanted you from day one.”

Her breath whispered out. She’d seen the desire in his eyes, burning hot in that green gaze. But he’d always kept his control around her.

“I played by the rules.”

Because he seemed to be the rule-following sort.

His jaw tightened. “And now I’ve fucking brought a killer to your door.” Anger was there, deepening his voice, letting the hint of his Texas drawl slip out.

“Blake, it’s not—”

“My fault?” His gaze burned. “You don’t need to lie to me. I keep telling you that. When will you believe it? I can handle your truth. I can handle every single secret that you have.”

No, he couldn’t. He didn’t know about her past, and he didn’t know everything that had happened the terrible night she realized that Cameron was a killer. If he did know, would he even want to touch her? Would he look at her as if she were the monster?

“I’m not going to stand back, not any longer.” The heat from his body seemed to wrap around her. “I want you. I’m not going to let that sick son of a bitch out there—whether it is Latham or someone else—I’m not letting him get you. I may not be your partner anymore, but I’m here. I will always be here for you.”

The hero. He had that complex straight to his soul. Too bad she wasn’t built the same way. There was a darkness in her, one she’d always felt, like a constant companion who shadowed her every step. Cameron had said she was made for the dark. We both know you like the dark... Isn’t that your name? His voice floated through her mind, the way it often did. Little things, replaying in her head. I always said you had that killer instinct. How many times had she found herself looking over her shoulder in the past few months, certain that Cameron would be there?

“If you don’t want me to touch you again, you say the word.”

She wanted his touch right then. Wanted to drag him close and kiss him and forget everything else. She’d been playing by the rules during her time at the FBI, and what had that good behavior gotten her? Blame and a swift kick in the ass on her way out of the door.

“But I’m not leaving,” he added, when she remained silent. Mostly because she wasn’t sure what to say. “And the killer out there? I will hunt him down. I’d just rather do it with you at my side. Because, despite the bullshit that EAD Bass said about you, I know you’re the best. We can work together again. We can take this bastard down.”

Tempting words. But she already knew what she had to do. “I’ll help you find him.” Stopping the killer was as necessary as breathing. She couldn’t let a predator like him hunt. The image of Kristy Wales flashed through her mind. The woman had been terrified, and her blood...it had sprayed so wide when her throat was cut. “We’ll make our own rules from here on out.”

So she’d be back to working with Blake, temporarily. And the desire that was between them? The need that kiss had just proved was still as hot as ever? What were they supposed to do about that?

Ignore it, the way they’d done before?

I won’t pretend. “I want you,” Samantha said. She could give him that truth. “I just don’t know what to do about that need.” Another quiet admission. She did want him, so very much, and that desire terrified her.

Her last lover had turned out to be a serial killer. Since then, she hadn’t been willing to lower her guard and trust another man with her body. But if she could trust anyone...shouldn’t it be Blake?

She turned away from him, fumbling with her door. It took three tries to get the lock open, then she hurriedly disengaged her security system. She went inside, but...Blake wasn’t following her.

Samantha glanced back.

His hands were clenched at his sides, and his eyes glittered with unmistakable desire. Her breath hitched as she stared at him, and need twisted deep inside of her.

“I think there are a few things we need to discuss.” Again, his voice was rough and dark, sexy.

Samantha licked her lips and tasted him.

If possible, his gaze went even brighter. Be careful. The warning whispered through her mind. You’re about to go too far.

“I need to talk to you about Latham.” His breath rushed out on a low hiss. “And this time, I don’t want you holding back with me.”

Oh, hell.

* * *

TAMMY WASN’T FIGHTING any longer. A few jabs of his blade and she’d started cooperating quickly. Begging, promising him anything.

Before he was done, he’d take everything from her.

After he’d transported her, he’d tied her up, secured her easily, but now her blood was making a pool beneath her body. A gag was shoved in her mouth—just in case she got the urge to scream—and she stared up at him with wide, desperate eyes. The light from his lantern shone on her, illuminating her terror in just the right way...while letting him blend with the shadows around them.

Does she know there’s no hope? Or does she still think there is a way out?

He held up her phone in front of her face and snapped a quick picture. “Perfect.” He’d taken the phone—and her bag—when he grabbed her in the parking garage.

A low moan came from behind the gag. He lifted up the phone, studying the image. “Not too bad, but I don’t know if this angle really is your best. Let’s try again.” Another shot. Another bloody picture. “Much better.” He smiled at her. “You know, I’m really glad I took a few hours to learn my way around your town earlier.” Now he nodded. “Always get the lay of the land, that’s step one. You have to know where to hide. You have to know how to escape. I mean, otherwise, aren’t you just a sitting duck, waiting for the authorities to come?”

Her eyelids had flickered when he said “authorities.” Oh, that was cute. She did still have hope. “I’m good on the water,” he murmured. “So that helped me. You pay a guy thirty bucks, and you can rent a boat down here for two hours. Gave me time to study your city from land and sea.” Then he’d just gone in and set his plan into motion.

Step one. Find Samantha Dark.

Step two. Learn the city.

Step three. Use the right bait. He thought he was staring at the best bait he’d ever seen. He reached into her purse. “Now, if I know those true-blue FBI types, they generally want to give witnesses their card for contacting later...you know, in case you remember any of those pertinent details they love so much.” He found the business card in her bag. He lifted it up, smiling when he saw the handwritten number on the back. So incredibly helpful. “They just make it too easy.”

He’d be calling that number, soon enough. But first, he had to get the stage set just right. The perfect location. The perfect distraction.

And my bait has to be safe.

He put the card into his pocket and picked up his knife.

She whimpered, a scared, pain-filled sound.

Oh, but he did like that sound. His thumb slid along the blade of his knife. Maybe he did have time to play just a bit more.

* * *

HE NEEDED TO get his control back, and he needed to get it back now.

Blake exhaled slowly as he crossed the threshold and entered Samantha’s home. She’d retreated a bit as she stared at him with wide eyes. He shut the door behind him, aware that the tension in his body was just thickening.

He was rock fucking hard for her. He wanted to pull her into his arms again. Kiss her, taste her...strip her.

Have her.

But he knew he was supposed to play things carefully between them. Samantha was important. He’d spent months without her. And if he was finally going to have her back...

Then they needed to clear the air between them. He had to know just what she was facing.

And Samantha needed to know just who he truly was.

“I wanted you from the moment we met.”

She stood with her back to the picture window. Her arms were crossed over her chest. At his words, her lips parted.

“You’ve been in my head for months. A ghost, haunting me.” Driving him to the edge. “I can’t do it any longer.”

Her hair slid over her face as she shook her head. “Do what?”

He closed the distance between them. His hand lifted, and his fingers curled under her chin. “Play the good-guy role.” A man could only pretend for so long. Then his true colors would start to show.

“You are good, Blake.” She gave a little laugh, one that held the faintest edge of desperation. “I’m not wrong about that.” Her long lashes lowered, shielding her gaze. “I can’t be wrong about you.”

Because of Latham. His jaw locked, but he didn’t stop touching her. He couldn’t. “Did you love him?”

That question had her lashes flying up. She stared at him, that beautiful gaze of hers stark.

“I want to know.”

As he waited for her answer, jealousy coiled within him. Dark and twisting. That jealousy had always been there where Latham was concerned. From the moment they’d met, the guy had rubbed Blake the wrong way. Because we both wanted her.

“No, I didn’t love him...at least, not the way a lover is supposed to. We were far better friends than lovers.” Then she gave another bitter laugh. “Though I guess we weren’t very good at that, either.”

He was about to grind his teeth to dust, but he kept his touch gentle on her. Samantha and Latham. Lovers. That damn image had tormented him too many times. But soon enough, he’d have Samantha. Blake would have her in his bed. And when he did, he’d banish the memory of Latham from her mind.

Before he could speak again, Samantha had pulled away from him. “There are things you don’t understand about me. Things that—”

“That he did?”

Her head snapped toward him.

Dial back the jealousy. “You think I can’t handle your secrets, Samantha? You think he could?”

“He didn’t mind my darkness.” Her gaze skittered to the picture window. “I guess it makes sense now, doesn’t it? He liked that part of me. The part that lets me see into a killer’s head so easily. The part that thinks about murder and death. He was drawn to all of that because he was the same way.”

“You are not the same.” She needed to see that. “I don’t care what crap Latham fed you. You aren’t.”

“He was my first lover.”

Every muscle in his body locked down.

“He told me I was perfect, inside and out, and after years of hiding the truth about myself from the world, it was nice to have someone who didn’t care about...about the things I’d done.” She’d stumbled just a bit over those last words.

And Blake knew that Samantha had more secrets. Secrets that she’d shared with Latham, and those secrets had bound the two together.

“Why won’t you trust me?” he gritted out.

She eased out a slow breath, then squared her shoulders. She met his stare, not flinching. “I want you.”

Music to his ears. Blake took a step toward her, but Samantha threw up her hand, as if warding him off.

“Wait!”

He had been waiting for her, for months.

“I want you more than I think I’ve ever wanted anyone.”

She was going to break him. He could feel his control splintering. But she’d said wait, and her trembling hand was still in the air.

“But you are wrong, Blake. You aren’t playing some good-guy role. That’s who you are.” She bit her lip. “That’s who I need you to be. And I can’t be wrong about a man I’m with ever again.”

“I won’t hurt you.” He’d never do anything to her. “You can count on me. Don’t you know that?”

Her hand fell to her side. “What if I hurt you?”

He frowned.

“You don’t know me as well as you think.”

Blake closed the distance between them. He curled his hands around her shoulders and pulled her close. “Only because you keep secrets. You don’t have to do that. I can handle anything you’ve got.”

“If you turned away from me...” Her smile was bittersweet. “I think it might break something in me.”

Samantha could never be broken. Not by him. Not by Latham.

His mouth lowered to hers, but...his phone started to vibrate. He swore when he heard the high-pitched ring. Someone’s timing was shit.

He let her go and reached for his phone. With the case, there was no way he could miss any call. There was no “off-duty” time for him when he hunted a killer. Blake didn’t recognize the number on his screen, but it had a local area code. His finger swiped over the phone, and he put it to his ear even as Samantha backed away.

Again.

Hell, no. You aren’t running. We aren’t done. In fact, we’re just getting started.

“This is FBI Special Agent Bla—”

Laughter cut through his words. Taunting, cold.

Blake’s face tensed.

“I don’t care about you, Special Agent. You’re just a means to an end. I’m calling to talk with Agent Dark.”

He nearly shattered the phone.

“Is she with you?” that taunting voice continued. “I bet she is. I bet you’re staying as close to her as you possibly can.”

“Who the fuck is this?”

He saw Samantha tense.

“The man you’re hunting, of course.”

And the bastard had called him?

“I learned Agent Dark didn’t get my champagne. I was quite disappointed with that, so I had to let the clerk know just how upset she’d made me. Poor service just can’t be tolerated, you know.”

What. The. Hell?

Samantha grabbed Blake’s arm. Put him on speaker. She mouthed the words at him.

Blake lowered the phone and tapped the screen so that she’d be able to hear the call, too. She needed to hear the bastard. The more she learned about him, the better able to profile him she’d be.

“Can she hear me yet?” the voice demanded. “Because I really need her to know what’s happening.”

“She can fucking hear you,” Blake snapped. “But I don’t buy your—”

“I’m going to kill her.” Flat, cold words. “I’ve got Tammy White here with me, and I am going to slice her open. I will watch her bleed and beg and die, and it will all be because of you, Agent Dark.”

The killer wasn’t speaking to Blake any longer. He was talking directly to Samantha. Because she’s the one he’s wanted all along.

The bastard’s voice was a rasp. Disguised.

“Do you want that, Agent Dark—Samantha?” He seemed to stumble a bit as he finally used her first name. “Do you want someone else to die because of you?”

“No.” Her voice was low, emotionless. “But I don’t believe that you have her. If you have her, you’d send—”

The phone vibrated as a text came through. Still keeping the speaker on, Blake swiped to look at the text. He heard Samantha suck in a sharp breath as she saw the brutal picture of a bleeding Tammy White.

“That’s my proof,” the caller taunted. “Now, be a good agent. Get the coordinates from the pic. They’ll tell you where I am. Then you come, Samantha. Just you. You come to meet me. You trade yourself for Tammy White, and she’ll escape with just a few...cuts.”

This was bullshit. “Not happening,” Blake swore. Samantha was not going to enter into some kind of deal with that psychopath. Yeah, they’d get the coordinates, all right. Blake was already getting them. Most folks didn’t realize that when pictures were taken...if they were using a smartphone to take pics, those phones would actually embed GPS coordinates into each photo. The coordinates were in the metadata that comprised the photo files. To see those coordinates, you just had to view the photo’s properties. You could get the coordinates, as long as the person who took that photo hadn’t disabled the feature on their phone...

And there they were. The coordinates popped right up, a perfect guide to the killer’s location.

“If Samantha doesn’t come to me, then Tammy White will die within the next fifteen minutes.” Spoken easily. “She’s already bleeding quite a bit now. A pool of blood is beneath her. Maybe I cut her too deeply last time.”

Samantha’s fingers locked around Blake’s wrist. “Don’t hurt her again. I’ll come to you.”

Fury swept through Blake.

“You come alone, Samantha. If I see a cop car, if I see a helicopter...I will drive my knife into Tammy’s heart right then and there. Her death will be on you.”

No, Tammy’s death would only be on the sick son of a bitch who got off on torturing her.

“I know the tricks the FBI uses. You’ll get the coordinates from the picture I sent...and you’ll realize that I’m on the water. So much wonderful water down here. Makes things easier for me.”

Fucking bastard.

“I’ve left a boat for you all tied up on the old pier near Devil’s Hole. You get in that boat—just you. Be in it within ten minutes. Take the boat and come out to meet me. If I hear a chopper, if I hear another boat, if I see any cop cars...my knife is in Tammy. She’s dead, and it’s because of you, Samantha.”

The line went dead.

“No fucking way,” Blake gritted. He’d call the local cops, he’d get backup...they’d go in with a full team.

But Samantha shook her head. “You know he wasn’t lying. If he sees a team coming, he will kill that woman.”

“He’s going to kill you.” Blake believed that with utter certainty. “You think I’m just going to stand there while you walk in blind? You think—”

“I swore the day that I buried my father...” Her shoulders straightened. “No one else would ever die in my place.”

Her father?

“Tammy White is a pawn. It’s me he wants, and it’s me he’s going to get.”