Читать книгу Safety Breach - Delores Fossen, Delores Fossen - Страница 9

The moment that Gemma Hanson opened her front door, she heard something she didn’t want to hear.

Silence.

There were no pulsing beeps from the security system. No flare of the bead of red light on the panel, warning her that she had ten seconds to disarm it or the alarms would sound. That meant someone had tampered with it.

The killer had found her.

The fear came, cold and sharp like a gleaming razor slicing through her, and it brought the memories right along with it. Nothing though, not even the fear, was as scalpel sharp as those images that tore into her mind.

She dropped the bag of groceries and the gob of keys she’d been holding, and Gemma grabbed the snub-nosed .38 from her purse. Just holding the weapon created a different kind of panic inside her because in the back of her mind, she knew that it wouldn’t be enough to stop him.

No.

This time the killer would get to her. This time, he would finish what he’d started a year ago and make sure that the ragged breaths she was dragging in and out were the last ones she would ever take.

She forced herself to go as still as she could. Tried to steady her heartbeat, too, so she could listen for any sound of him in the small house. It wouldn’t do any good to run. She’d learned that the hard way the last time he’d come after her—because running had been exactly what he’d expected her to do.

Maybe even what he’d wanted her to do.

It had been a game to him, and he’d been ready. Good at it, too. That’s how he’d been able to fire three bullets into her before she’d barely taken a step.

“Where are you?” Gemma asked, still standing in the doorway. A whisper was all she could manage with her throat clamped tight, but the sound still carried through the quiet house. Too quiet. As silent as the grave.

He didn’t answer, no one did, so Gemma tried again. This time, though, she used his name.

“Eric?”

She got out more than a whisper with that try. Her voice actually sounded a whole lot stronger than she felt, but any strength, fake or otherwise, wouldn’t scare him off. If Eric Lang had any fears, Gemma had never been able to figure them out, and uncovering that sort of thing was her specialty.

Had been her specialty, she mentally corrected.

These days, she didn’t teach criminal justice classes and didn’t assist the FBI with creating criminal profiles for serial killers like Eric. Instead, she input data for a research group, a low-level computer job that the marshals had arranged for her. The only talent she had now was getting easily spooked and having nightmares.

And speaking of being spooked, every nerve inside her went on full alert when she heard the sound of the engine. Gemma automatically brought up the gun as she’d been trained to do. She forced herself not to pull the trigger though. Good thing, too, because it wasn’t Eric. However, it was someone who shouldn’t be here.

Sheriff Kellan Slater.

Gemma instantly recognized him even from this distance and behind the windshield of the unfamiliar blue truck. Of course, it would have been hard not to notice Kellan. The cowboy cop was tall, lanky...unforgettable. Gemma knew because she’d had zero success in forgetting him.

Kellan got out of his truck, but he stopped when he spotted her .38, and he pulled out his gun in a slick, fluid motion. “Is Eric Lang here?” he called out.

That didn’t ease her thudding heartbeat. Even though she hadn’t seen Kellan in the year since her attack, Gemma hoped this was his version of a social visit. Not that they had any reason to be social, now that the hurt and blame was between them. However, if he hadn’t come here to find out how she was, then perhaps he’d tell her that she was imagining things. That her WITSEC identity hadn’t been compromised, that no one had actually tampered with her security system and that she was safe.

But Kellan wasn’t giving her much of a reassuring look.

With his gaze firing all around them, he hurried onto the porch, automatically catching on to her arm and pushing her behind him. Protecting her. Which only confirmed to her that she needed to be protected.

“Is Eric here?” Kellan repeated.

Gemma knew this was going to make her sound crazy. “I haven’t actually seen him since the night he attacked me, but someone turned off my security system.” She swallowed hard before she added the rest. “I sensed he was here. And I think he’s been watching me. He found me.”

Those last three words had not been easy to say, and they’d had to make their way through the muscles in her throat that felt as if they were strangling her.

Even though Kellan hadn’t given her much reassurance before, she waited for some now. But he didn’t give her any. “Are you sure you just didn’t forget to set the alarm when you went out?”

Gemma wanted to laugh, but it definitely wouldn’t be from humor. “I’m positive.”

Even though she was living her fake life with a fake name that the marshals had given her, all the steps didn’t mean she was safe. Gemma knew that, and it was why she was obsessive about taking precautions. Not just with arming the security system but carrying the .38.

“Do you know for sure if anyone’s actually inside the house?” Kellan pressed.

Gemma shook her head, and she was about to explain that she’d stopped in the doorway. No explanation was necessary though. Because that’s when Kellan glanced down at the floor where she’d dropped her groceries and keys. It was the kind of sweeping glance that cops made, and while Kellan didn’t exactly look like most cops, he was a blue blood to the core. A third-generation sheriff of Longview Ridge, Texas—their hometown.

Of course, he’d only gotten that sheriff’s badge after his own father had been murdered, and she knew Kellan would have gladly given it up to have his father back.

“Stay right next to me,” Kellan insisted, and he stepped into the small entry. The moment they were both inside, he motioned for her to shut the door.

Gemma did, and while she kept a firm grip on her gun, they stood there, listening. With her body sandwiched between Kellan and the door. The back of him pressed against the front of her.

It stirred different kinds of memories.

Of the heat that had once simmered between them. Of the long, lingering looks that he’d once given her with gunmetal eyes. Of the way his rough hands had skimmed over her body. Years ago, they’d been lovers but had drifted apart when she’d left for college. They’d found their way back to each other and likely would have landed in bed again if Eric hadn’t struck first. After that, well, Kellan no longer wanted her that way.

Because he blamed her for his father’s death.

Of course, he blamed himself, too, which had put an even bigger wedge between them. Kellan would never be able to forgive himself for what’d happened, and Gemma wasn’t sure she could forgive him for not being able to stop it.

All that lack of forgiveness was why she knew something was horribly wrong. This was the last place Kellan would have wanted to come, and she was the last person he’d want to try to protect.

“Wait here while I have a look around,” Kellan insisted. “And lock the door. If you hear anything, and I mean anything, get down on the floor.” He glanced back over his shoulder at her, and she saw that his jaw had tightened even more than it had been when he’d first arrived. “Understand?” he added.

There was a lot of anger and old baggage in that understand. The last time she hadn’t listened to a sheriff, she’d nearly been killed and two people had been murdered. Maybe three since one of the possible victims, Caroline Moser, was still missing and presumed dead. She would definitely listen this time.

Kellan stepped away from her, heading first to the kitchen, where he checked the pantry. Since the living room, dining room and kitchen were all open, she had no trouble seeing him, but that changed when he went into the bedrooms. First hers and then the guest room. Gemma just stood there, waiting and praying. If Eric was indeed inside, she didn’t want him claiming another victim.

Especially a victim who was trying to protect her.

That’s what Kellan’s father, Buck, had been doing the night Eric had gunned down him and his deputy. Then Eric had escaped and hadn’t been seen in the past year. But unlike the people he’d murdered that night, Eric was very much alive. Gemma could feel that all the way down to her breath and bones.

It seemed to take an eternity or two, but Kellan finally came out from the bedrooms, and he shook his head. “He’s not here, but your bedroom window was open. I’m guessing you didn’t leave it that way?”

The air stalled in her throat, and it took her a moment to answer. “No. I’ve never opened that window.” Heck, the only times she’d ever opened the curtains was to make sure the window was closed and locked.

He nodded, and the grunt he made let her know that it was the answer he’d expected. “So, someone’s been here. Maybe Eric.” He went to the keypad for the alarm, brushing against her arm as he walked by her. It was barely a touch, but she noticed.

So did Kellan.

Their gazes connected for a split second before he mumbled some profanity and looked away. He sounded disgusted with himself. Maybe because he didn’t want to feel that quick punch of attraction. Gemma didn’t want to feel it, either. It was a distraction, and something like that could get them both killed.

Kellan took out his phone and texted someone. Perhaps one of his brothers who were all in law enforcement. Gemma took out her phone, too, ready to call her handler, Marshal Amanda Hardin, but Kellan shook his head.

“Don’t involve your handler yet,” he said. “There’s been a leak, and I haven’t discovered the source.”

Gemma lost what little breath she’d managed to regain, and because she had no choice, she leaned against the wall for support. Kellan helped, too. Well, he did after he muttered more of that profanity. He took hold of her arm, marched her to the sofa and had her sit before he went to the window. Keeping watch.

“What happened?” she asked. “Tell me about the leak.”

He glanced back at her, his tight jaw letting her know she should brace herself, that what he was about to say would be bad news. “There’s been another murder.”

Gemma was glad she was sitting down, but she had to shake her head. Kellan was a sheriff, and while Longview Ridge wasn’t exactly a hotbed of crime, murders did happen there. That was something that Kellan and she both had too much experience with. However, Gemma couldn’t figure out why a murder there would have brought Kellan here to her WITSEC house in Austin, a good ninety miles from Longview Ridge. Unless...

“Did Eric kill someone else?” she managed to say.

Kellan’s hesitation confirmed that that was indeed what had happened. “We found the body about two hours ago.”

Two hours. That meant Kellan had left the crime scene and come straight to her. “Who was killed?” she snapped.

Judging from the way his forehead bunched up, he didn’t want to tell her. But then she knew it was connected to her, or Kellan wouldn’t be here. “Iris Kirby,” he finally answered.

That felt like the slam of another bullet into her. Oh, God. Iris. Gemma knew her, of course. She knew almost everyone in Longview Ridge. Iris had been her favorite teacher in high school.

Gemma wasn’t sure she could stomach hearing the answer to this, but it was a question she had to ask. “You’re sure she was murdered? And how do you know it was Eric?”

Without taking his attention from the window, he pulled up a photo on his phone and handed it to her. “That was left at the crime scene. And as for how we know it’s murder, Iris died from three gunshot wounds to the torso.”

The slams and punches just kept coming, and each of them brought one more wave of the nightmarish images. That’s because Eric had shot both Gemma and Kellan’s father three times. She supposed Eric considered that his signature. One of them anyway. Leaving notes at the crime scenes was the other. And the picture on Kellan’s phone was that of a note.

“‘Too late again, Sheriff Slater,’” she read aloud. “‘Tell Gemma that Iris didn’t suffer. I made it fast as a favor to her. And then tell Gemma that she’s next. I know where to find her. Three-twenty-three East Lane, Austin. Our girl didn’t go too far, did she?’”

As hard as it was to read those words, Gemma tamped down the rising fear and tried to view this as a profiler. The note was meant to taunt Kellan and her.

And it had.

Along with twisting her insides into knots. Judging from the tight muscles in Kellan’s body, it had done the same to him. However, this wasn’t proof there had been a breach in WITSEC.

“How would Eric have gotten access to WITSEC files?” she mumbled.

Gemma waved it off though before Kellan could even speculate. Eric was smart, and he was a whiz with computers. He’d even joked once that he would have made a fairly decent hacker, and then had added to the joke that Caroline and she would have made even better ones. Eric wouldn’t have needed help from anyone in WITSEC to get into the files because he could have done it himself.

“So, Eric knows where I am,” she concluded. “He killed Iris to...what? Send me into a panic? A rage, maybe? To hurt me by murdering someone I knew? Because panicked, angry people don’t always think straight, and they make mistakes.”

Kellan huffed. “Best to save your criminal analysis for Eric. When the FBI was looking for him, he was right under your nose, and you didn’t even know it.”

Because Kellan glanced at her again when he said that, she saw the glare in his eyes. She saw it soften, too, when he regretted giving her that jab.

But in this case, it was true, and she deserved any jab he might send her way. That’s because Eric had been her student in a criminal justice class before she’d made him her intern. He’d worked side by side with her, case by case, and until the night he’d tried to murder her, she hadn’t known he was a serial killer.

That was the ultimate taunting.

“I believe Eric was here,” Kellan continued a moment later. “He killed Iris last night so he had plenty of time to get from Longview Ridge to Austin. Plenty of time to watch you and wait for you to leave so he could break into your house.”

Yes, but why hadn’t Eric just stayed and waited for her? Had he found out Kellan was coming, and Eric hadn’t wanted to deal with a lawman? Especially one who wanted him dead.

Still, that didn’t feel right.

Of course, she’d learned the hard way that it was a mistake to trust her feelings when it came to Eric.

“There’s Owen,” Kellan said, his voice shattering the silence.

Owen, as in his brother Deputy Owen Slater. And he was yet someone else who would want to face down Eric.

“Owen’s been working with Austin PD to set up spotters on the road,” Kellan added. “Don’t worry, Owen didn’t tell the local cops who you really are. He said you’re a witness in an upcoming trial and that we need to get you back to Longview Ridge.”

Her legs suddenly felt like glass, but she forced herself to stand. Gemma also glanced out the window. Owen was indeed out there, sitting behind the wheel of a black car.

“Are you really taking me to Longview Ridge?” she asked.

“Best not to say where we’re going in case Eric bugged the place.”

Oh, mercy. She hadn’t even thought of that. But she should have. Eric had succeeded in rattling her, and he had likely figured that was the first step in getting to her.

“Don’t bring anything with you,” Kellan instructed when she reached for her purse.

Yes, because Eric could have planted tracking devices on clothes or anything else in the house. She’d had her purse with her when she’d gotten groceries, but maybe Eric had managed to put a tracker on it before that quick shopping trip. Or even while she was at the store. She couldn’t take her phone either because he could use it to pinpoint her location. Then, he could follow wherever Kellan was taking her.

Kellan motioned toward his brother, and Owen got out of the car. Like Kellan, he already had his weapon drawn, which meant any of her neighbors could see that and become alarmed. Maybe alarmed enough to come outside and try to figure out what was going on. No one had shown much interest in her in the nine months she’d been there, and now wouldn’t be a good time to start.

“Move fast,” Kellan said, and that was the only warning she got before he took hold of her, positioning her right next to him. He opened the door and got them moving.

“Aww, don’t be that way,” someone said.

Eric.

The voice came from behind them, from inside the house, and Kellan must have recognized it, too, because he dragged her to the ground next to the concrete steps.

“Don’t leave before we have time to play,” Eric joked.

And the killer laughed just as the shot blasted through the air.