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Authors: Alysia S Knight

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BOOK: Beauty and the Chief
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“Not tonight. I just knew you’d have my head if I didn’t let you know. Now you do, so you can get some sleep. I’ll be here a couple hours and leave a couple extra officers for security to be on the safe side. I doubt he’ll be back.”

“I agree, still go with the extra security, and I’m going to put a permanent officer on her door. I’ll stop by the hospital first thing in the morning. Can you leave your report on my desk? You can have someone drop it off, if needed.”

“Will do,” the detective answered back.

“Thanks, Andrew.”

“Sure thing.”

The phone disconnected, and Mark lay back in the bed. This time, his thoughts were on a far less pleasant subject. He didn’t like the thought that the killer had gone after Sandra Cannon. The psychologist figured he wouldn’t. They were going to have to rethink this, but he didn’t like where it was heading. He really didn’t like what it hinted for Jillian. She might not have been the killer’s intended victim … he started to reach for the phone then stopped.

His wanting to hear her voice was not due to the possible danger. So far, there was no evidence of that, and at the moment, she’d be asleep like he should be. Her doors would be locked, security system set, and the odds were against the killer making another attempt tonight. Odds were also, he didn’t even know who Jillian was. Still, Mark decided, he would pay her a visit tomorrow just for his own peace of mind.

***

The man slipped into the darkened house. Rage seeped from his rigid form. Why he had ever gone to the hospital. The woman there was obviously not the one. She was not his Beauty. She would never see past the ugliness to love him. She was not worth his time, and though she didn’t deserve to live, he had to forget about her. He needed to concentrate on Beauty. He’d found her now. He was certain of it.

Jillian Taylor was his Beauty. He clenched the metal frame of the camera into his hand. He could bring the image of her up clearly in his mind. He crept through the kitchen and down the hall to the bedroom that would be hers when he brought her there to live with him.

It was the perfect room for his Beauty, from the white wallpaper with tiny red roses, to the wrought iron bed with its filmy draped canopy and white spread with the embroidered roses. It was just like the picture in his book. He could see Jillian here, even without looking at the pictures on the wall surrounding the computer. She would love him and the curse would be over. He would no longer be a beast.

Hideous beast. His mother’s words came back to haunt him. Just like your father. No woman would want you. No woman will ever see past the beast. No. No. “No!” He slammed his fist against the wall. Beauty could love him. She could see past the beast he hid. He pulled the wig from his head and touched the rough, scarred patches there. She would love him. She could save him.

He dragged in a breath. First, he had to keep his attention on the task at hand. He removed the memory card from the camera and placed it in the computer. A second later the pictures came up, and with a touch of a button, they began to print, bringing the images to life. She was there in the store, a package of meat in her hand, smiling back over her shoulder at the top cop. Fierce anger sliced through him at the sight of the man.

He would not have time to court his Beauty slowly. He would have to move fast before the cop could move in and steal her away. No, the cop couldn’t take his Beauty. Rage flared. The cop could confuse her though, keep her from seeing past the beast.

He picked up the scissors, cutting the police chief away. When he added the pictures to the others of her on the wall, he was the one she was smiling back at.

Chapter Eight

 

 

“You have a secret admirer.” Nan’s voice greeted Jillian as she walked through the door. “Or is he not so mysterious?”

“What?” Jillian looked at her assistant, releasing Abby’s leash so the dog could go to the woman, who held out a treat for her.

“How are you girl?” Nan rubbed the dog in greeting. “Look at you all bandaged up, but you look good and you’re walking fine. Maybe not as much wiggle in your body.”

Jillian smiled as she watched Abby lap up the attention. “She’s doing well. Acting more like her normal self, though she does seem to want to stay close.”

“Then we’ll just keep you close.” Nan stroked Abby’s head, looking down into her big, brown puppy eyes. “Now, for you.” Nan shifted her gaze to Jillian and motioned to the single red rose in a vase on the desk. “It was leaning against the door when I got here. So, are you going to tell me who it is? I can’t see one of your soccer boys giving you a rose.”

Jillian moved to the flower to take a smell as she thought back over her weekend. Would Mark have left her a flower? She didn’t know, but a little rush went through her at the thought. He seemed the more direct type. Not that he wouldn’t give flowers, but if he did, he would do it personally. Still, she took another smell of the rose and wondered.

“Okay, I see that smile. You met someone this weekend. When and where did this happen?”

“Well …” Jillian flushed and became tongue tied.

“Come on, Sweet Pea, give! Where did you meet a man? You went to your soccer game. By the way, I saw your picture in the paper. You can tell me about that later. After the game, you picked up Abby, so when did you find the time to meet a man? I know from talking to the vet that she’s a woman.”

“Nan.” She laughed. “If you give me a chance I’ll tell you.” She took a deep breath, enjoying the absolutely giddy sensation she felt. “I met him at the soccer game. He’s the father of one of the boys on my team.”

“Father? How old is he?” Concern knitted the woman’s brow.

“Not that old. The boy in the picture with Sam is his son, Jordan.”

“Well, tell me about him. I know if you’re seeing him, he’s single.”

“Yes, he’s been divorced around six years. He has custody of Jordan.”

“Really.” Nan’s eyebrow arched up in interest. “Tall, dark and handsome.”

“Tall and handsome but his hair is very light brown − sandy. You know that carpet I ordered in for Mrs. Newman? That’s close. He has these intense hazel eyes, and when he smiles or laughs, he gets these crease lines that are almost dimples.” She blushed at the way the woman was watching her.

“That’s quite an impression for meeting a man at a soccer game.” Nan kept eyeing her as if she was studying a strange new creature.

“We actually went out to lunch, and then they helped me bring Abby home. We talked while the boys played video games. Yesterday, he and his son came over, and we went swimming, then grilled steaks and watched a movie.”

“So, all this was with his son there?” The apprehension was still discernible.

“Yes, except when we went to get the steaks.”

“What else do you know about him?” The woman raised her hand. “It’s just, you don’t really have a lot of experience with guys, and I don’t want you to get taken advantage of, Sweet Pea. There are a lot of untrustworthy guys out there.”

“Oh, I’d say he’s trustworthy. He’s the chief of police.”

“Chief of police! You mean Mr. Hunky that was in here on Friday?”

“Yes.”

“You weren’t a woof’n when you said intense. Rosebud, that man is Mr. Maleness. I heard you two going at it in here Friday. Then again, he sure did have you reacting to him. I’ve never seen you like that. All fire and − oh boy!” She whistled.

“Nan, don’t make this more than it is. The boys wanted to hang out on Saturday. Yesterday, he wanted me to know about the picture, and we had dinner. That’s all. I don’t know if the rose is from him.” The blush was back. Jillian looked away quickly.

“Uh huh.”

Jillian could feel Nan’s gaze and shifted under the weight of it.

“What else? You didn’t let him kiss you?”

Jillian burst into flame.

“You didn’t. You did?”

“It was just a kiss.”

“Yes, but we’re talking about you. I know your dating habits. You can’t call them habits, because you don’t go out enough for it to be a habit. And you don’t just kiss any guy you go out with. You’re Miss Standoffish, my little Cactus Flower. He kissed the socks off you, didn’t he?” There was a knowing expression on Nan’s face and Jillian couldn’t fight it.

“Nan, I’ve never been kissed like that before. I mean, I’ve never felt anything like it.” She sank down in a chair as her insides turned to jelly at just the thought of the kiss.

“That must have been some kiss,” the woman said in awe.

“It was, but it was more. I was already having feeling for him. It was there the first night, but I told myself it was because of what happened, and he made me feel better. But that wasn’t it. It wasn’t a hero thing or gratitude. I don’t know. Do you think it’s possible to fall in love so fast?”

“In love, oh, Sweet Pea …” Nan took a deep breath and held it for a second before letting it slowly out. “I knew Ralph was the one the moment I met him. Though, it took a while to convince him.”

“Nan, I don’t know what to do. I think I’ve fallen in love.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Buttercup, but you better think of something fast.” She looked over Jillian’s shoulder. Jillian turned to see Mark Richards walking toward her. He moved silently, but she couldn’t figure how she hadn’t heard the door, and then forgot about it as his eyes burned into her.

“Good day, ladies,” he greeted them, but his attention remained fixed on Jillian. “Is there anyone else here?”

All Jillian could do was shake her head. The intensity on his face took her breath.

“Does she have an appointment right now?” he asked the question of Nan, but again his eyes never left her.

“No. She’s clear for at least an hour.”

“Good.” He held out his hand for Jillian. She took it without thought.

“We’ll be over in that little alcove if you need us.” The second they stepped into the privacy of the little nook, he turned to her. “Did you mean it?” His voice growled out like a large cat.

“What?” Jillian couldn’t think, couldn’t take her eyes from him. He had the fierceness of a warrior, but she knew no fear.

“Are you in love with me?”

It was her body that answered first without conscious thought, her head going up and down. Finally, the words made it out. “Yes, I’m afraid so.”

“Why afraid?”

“Things like this don’t happen to me. I’ve never been in love before. I mean really in love. I’ve had crushes, but I’ve always been just one of the guys. I …”

“Jillian, enough said.” He pulled her in his arms and kissed her. There was no need to demand a response. She couldn’t have held it back if she tried. She gave herself over to the kiss. In wordless communication, he accepted her and gave of himself. They melted together, becoming one with just the touch of their lips.

One hand found its way into her silky tresses so he could angle her head to give him better access to her mouth, his other arm spread over her back, pressing her tight. Not that it was needed either. Her own arms made their way up around his neck, and she clung to him as her legs gave out.

“My Jillian.” The words were whispered against her neck just below her ear. She shivered at the brush of his lips. He eased back slightly. “Last night, I thought maybe I was imagining what was happening between us. I tried to convince myself it couldn’t be true. It was too fast, too much was happening. I came up with a dozen different excuses, but one thing kept denying them all. The knowledge that I’m falling in love with you.”

He kissed her again, but after a minute, when she pulled back, he broke the contact.

“Mark, can this be real?”

“It has to be. It’s too strong not to be.”

“It’s not just hormones?”

“Do you feel it is?” He turned the question back to her.

She shook her head. “No. I feel it so deep in me it’s scary. I just don’t know what to do.”

“I think what we have to do is let it grow and strengthen. I don’t want to ignore it, but we still have a lot to learn about each other.” He gave her quick kiss and released her, shoving his fingers back through his hair. “This was not why I came here today.” He looked back at her, longing still palpable on his face. “Okay, back under control.” He took a deep breath and grinned. “How are you today?”

Jillian felt the laughter build deep within her at the absurdity of the question, working its way up and out. “Wonderful, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, glad to be of help. I’m feeling pretty good myself right now.”

“You wanted to talk to me.”

The grin slipped from his face. “Yeah, this is going to be a real mood killer.” He grimaced. “I thought you’d want to know. It looks like there was an attempt on Sandra Cannon last night.”

Jillian gasped. Panic hit her. “Is she all right?” She reached for his hand. He interlocked their fingers.

“Yeah. The guy didn’t get close to her. We lucked out with a very observant nurse. Unfortunately, we couldn’t get a description, even off the security cameras. We have an officer stationed at her room now.”

“How is she?”

“They have her in a drug-induced coma. The doctors think she’s going to be fine, just needs a little more time before they bring her around.”

“Is she safe? Are you going to move her?”

“She’s safe. We’ll keep an officer on her room at all times plus the hospital security. We hadn’t kept anyone posted because the psychiatrist figured he wouldn’t go after her. He thought that he killed because the woman wasn’t the right one.”

“The right one?” A shiver ran through Jillian.

Mark shifted closer, bringing her hand to his lips. “Here, let’s sit down.” When they were settled, he started again. “Dr. Barlow thinks our guy is looking for his perfect love in a twisted fashion. He says it hinges on what the guy said to you − ‘love me, Beauty.’ He says we have a real sick monster here. Barlow said he’s not going to stop until he finds his ‘Beauty.’”

Shivers again washed over her. “Then what?”

Mark’s countenance darkened and Jillian knew he didn’t want to tell her, but he looked at her and the words came out. “Then, he’ll keep her until she displeases him. He’ll kill her and start again.”

This time Jillian found herself squeezing Mark’s hand giving him her comfort. “You’ll get him.”

He looked at her and she could see the pain in his eyes. “I have to, but can I get him before he kills again? If he follows his track record, we now have less than a month. Though, we have more than before, we still don’t have a lot to go on. The knife had no prints. It’s an upper quality knife, but it’s not sold around here. It’s also a couple years old, so pretty impossible to trace.

“We’re still working on the mask you pulled off. It’s our best lead. It’s custom-made. We haven’t been able to trace the maker. We do have a possibility, but the guy just happens to be in Italy, studying masks. No one seems to know when he’ll be back or how to get hold of him. He’s supposed to be quite odd. We have DNA off the mask so, if we can catch the guy, we’ll have proof. We also got blood, thanks to Abby.”

The dog appeared as if waiting to hear her name. “Hi there, girl.” Mark reached out to rub the light golden fur and stroked her head. Abby laid her head on his thigh and studied him adoringly with her brown eyes.

“Abby,” Jillian started to get after her.

“She’s okay.” Mark kept his hand on her head, rubbing behind her ears.

“You’ll get hair on your pants.”

“Labs don’t shed much. I had a Lab when I was a kid. I should’ve gotten Jordan one.”

“Well, you keep doing that and you’ll never get rid of her.”

Mark looked down at the dog then back up to her. The heat rekindled in his eyes. “That’s good to know. What do I have to do to get her owner … forever?”

Jillian’s insides jumped. His expression said he was serious. She could hardly breathe at the power in his eyes. “Forever is a long time.”

“I’m afraid it won’t be long enough. But we might start there.”

“Mark.”

His name slipped out in a whisper that he caught with his mouth. He feathered the kiss over her cheek and tilted his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry, Jillian. I’m coming on too strong but I can’t seem to help it, which really isn’t like me.” He raised his head looking down at her. “Just believe me when I say what I feel for you is love. And I think it is very rare and special. Like it was already there just waiting to be rediscovered.”

“Yes.” Jillian studied the man who, in five days, had found her heart.

He leaned down and kissed her quickly before shifting away. “I keep getting distracted. Back to business. Dr. Barlow still thinks there shouldn’t be anything for you to worry about because the guy has obviously been picking his victims beforehand, and he still seems focused on Sandra. Though, he is concerned that he had addressed you as he probably does his victims, with ‘Beauty.’ So for my peace of mind, I’ll repeat. You don’t go anywhere by yourself, especially late at night. No deserted clients’ houses. Even with Abby, unless you’ve taught her to dial a phone.” He waited for her to answer.

BOOK: Beauty and the Chief
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