Blazing Hotter (Love Under Fire Book 2) (13 page)

“Roses?” Her eyes widened slightly. If she was irritated and distant with Frankie before, he had her full attention now.

“Once yesterday at work. It had a sweet little threatening poem written by an obvious psycho. We tried to track down who sent them, but that led to a vague description of a possible exotic dancer.” Encouraged by the fact she didn’t stop him, Frankie continued. “This morning, there was a box of roses left on her porch. Whoever is behind them wasn’t happy with the fact that I went home with Cassie and stayed there.”

“Roses, damn it,” she muttered, almost to herself. She shook her head. “All our victims are single and live alone. Why would he stray from his pattern?”

Perhaps Frankie had been a bit too bold in calling Cassie his girlfriend. “Cassie
is
single. I want her to be my girlfriend, but we aren’t really dating. Last night was the first time I’ve ever stayed at her house. I did it only to protect her. From what she told me, I don’t think she has much company to her house.”

“You’re right, I can’t ignore this lead.” She glanced over at Briggs’s desk, seeming relieved about something. “I’m glad you came to me. I could really use a break and show up that asshole over there. Go get your girl. I’ll clear a room for us.”

Frankie nodded, turning around to retrieve Cassie. He had to wonder how much shit Detective Rogers put up with on a daily basis from men like Briggs. Was that how Darwina Jones, one of the only women firefighters in the entire city, had felt when she first joined? Frankie had been one of the people to scoff and say a woman couldn’t do the job, that it was man’s work.

Hell, he’d been such a spoiled prick. Darwina was not only great at her job, she’d risen up the ranks and last he’d heard become a captain on one of the shifts at Frankie’s dad’s firehouse. All that after she’d been burned in a fire by the same arsonist who’d caught him and Thayne.

Making a mental note to call Darwina and apologize for anything he might have said to discourage her back when he first joined the fire crew, he opened the door to the room where Cassie waited.

She turned immediately to face him, a moment of stark fear in her eyes before her shoulders relaxed. “It seems I don’t like being alone, what with some crazy after me.” She forced a laugh. “Did you find someone?”

He nodded. “Detective Rogers is ready to interview us, and I think she’s open to listening to what we say.”

Cassie gathered the box in her arms. “That’s a relief. I wasn’t sure I could stay here another minute.”

“You could have,” Frankie said, returning his chair to the more comfortable sitting position now that he didn’t need the macho man act he’d tried with Rogers. “You’re such a strong woman. Brave, funny, and more capable than most other people I know. You can handle this.”

She gave him a sideways glance from the corner of her eye as she walked with him down the hallway. “Where did that come from?”

“Let’s just say I’ve made a lot of assumptions in my life, and I’m learning most of them aren’t true. No matter what happens after this bastard’s caught, I want you to know I respect you. I’m in awe of your strength.”

“Just when I think I’m figuring you out, Frank, you do something to totally blow that out of the water.” She giggled and shook her head. “Let’s get this over with and then grab lunch. Turns out firing a gun and spending your morning worrying in a small room can work up an appetite.”

She could blow it off as though this wasn’t a big deal if she wanted to. Maybe it helped her deal with her fear. Whatever she needed to do, Frankie knew she could do it. Not only did he want this woman to be his girlfriend like he’d told the detective, he could see even more than that. Learning about the real Cassie instead of the one he knew inside the rehab center only made him like her that much more.

***

C
assie was somewhat distracted by Frankie’s odd behavior, but that was nothing compared to the reaction of the detective when they met face to face.

“Your boyfriend here said you looked like those girls, but this is crazy.” The woman shook her head and let out a small whistle before sticking out her hand. “I’m Detective Emily Rogers.”

Cassie shook her hand. “Cassie Flick.”

“And I’m Frankie Hernandez.”

Rogers narrowed her eyes, tapping a finger against her lips. “Why does that name sound so familiar?”

“I was a firefighter during that big arson case a year and a half ago,” he said.

“Ah, you and your partner were caught in the last fire and were actually instrumental in catching the people responsible. I remember now.” Rogers sat, indicating the far side of the table with a sweep of her hand. “Please, sit down and tell me what you’ve brought.”

Cassie hurried to comply, and Frankie parked his wheelchair next to her. She set the flower box on the stainless steel table. “These were left on my doorstep this morning. There are two notes inside. One of them is from the first batch of roses I received yesterday, and I hate to say it, but Frankie and I probably destroyed any evidence that might have been on that card. We put it in a plastic bag, but that was after we’d both touched it.”

Rogers looked at her, seeming to have all the time in the world despite how long it took her to see them. “And the one from this morning?”

Cassie shook her head. “We didn’t touch it directly. I used plastic gloves and then put it inside a sandwich bag before we came here.”

As quickly and succinctly as possible, Cassie described everything that had happened since receiving the first batch of flowers. Her voice shook and there were times she was certain Rogers thought she was crazy, but the woman took down her story, making notes as Cassie spoke.

“Why didn’t you report this yesterday?” she asked when Cassie ran out of words. “I would think a threat like that would be called in immediately.”

Cassie glanced at Frankie before turning back to the detective. “I didn’t think you’d believe me, and I thought I knew who sent them.”

“Go on,” Rogers encouraged.

Knowing everything was about to come crashing down now, Cassie launched into her explanation of thinking it was Dr. Morgan and why she didn’t think the police would believe her.

“You think a doctor is behind these killings?” The disbelief was clear in the detective’s voice.

Now that she’d told her story, Cassie wasn’t going to be put off so easily. “Is he exempt from being a killer because he has an education?”

“On the contrary, serial killers are usually quite intelligent,” Rogers said. “Only one part of your story doesn’t add up. Why did he stop after the police got involved if he was the stalker and not you?”

Cassie shrugged, realizing that would be the question everyone asked just like Frankie had this morning. The truth was, she’d never worried too much about why it happened and was just thankful that Morgan had stopped.

“He took out a restraining order against me, maybe not realizing that it went both ways. He did me a favor by filing it because he couldn’t come around anymore. After a while, he found a girlfriend. Another nurse, blonde like me. I guess he has a type. I still get calls to the house from the hospital where someone is simply breathing on the other end of the line. I know it’s him, but I can’t prove it. His girlfriend broke up with him recently and moved out of the state, and the calls have increased since then.”

“When did the girlfriend break up with him?” Rogers asked.

Cassie shrugged. “Around the time of the first murder.”

Frankie leaned forward in his chair, finally deciding to get into the conversation after such a long time in silence. “I heard on the news that the victims’ bodies and faces were mutilated by knife wounds. Is there any evidence to support someone with a medical background doing the mutilation?”

“I can’t tell you that,” Rogers chided. “But I can tell you I’m taking your concerns seriously. We’ll put a police watch on your house since the perp seems to know about the security cameras and has an idea on how to avoid detection. We’ll be especially vigilant in the early morning when the sun makes the image poor.”

Cassie felt breathless. “You believe me?”

Rogers nodded. “About all of it, including the fact that the doctor stalked you before finding his girlfriend. It fits. We haven’t released this detail to the press, and I’d appreciate you keeping quiet, but the roses are a trademark of the person we’re dealing with. In the first two cases, both women had a bouquet of red roses found in the trash of their homes. There weren’t any notes, but maybe the killer is upping his game. He probably gets off on causing his victims fear.”

“They had only one bouquet each?” Cassie asked.

“What about the third victim?” Frankie asked at the same time.

Rogers shook her head. “I shouldn’t tell you this, but from the state of the flowers, we believe each woman had been killed the day after receiving them. Having Mr. Hernandez stay in your house might have saved your life. The third victim didn’t get flowers as far as we can tell.” Rogers shrugged. “I think he’d already delivered the flowers to his victim... to you. When he couldn’t kill you, he found a replacement.”

Cassie sucked in a gasp of air, acid roiling in her stomach. “He killed that last girl not as a surrogate for me but as my replacement?”

“And if his pattern holds,” Rogers said, “he’ll be after you tonight because he delivered more roses. I need to talk to my lieutenant. I can’t make any promises, but if it’s at all possible, I’d like to get you out of that house and put a cop in place who looks similar. Maybe we can catch this bastard before he strikes again.”

F
rankie sat across the table from Cassie at a local bakery, Carlie’s Creations, as they sipped coffee and tried to make their stomachs cooperate enough to eat soup. Detective Rogers’s plan to put a sting operation into place to catch the killer was a go. Her higher-ups had been all too ready to jump on an opportunity to catch the perp and restore the city of Sayle’s faith in the police force.

There was just one problem and the place where everything could go wrong. He’d have to separate from Cassie for a time to convince anyone watching her that he was out of the picture.

“You ready for this?” he asked softly.

Her nod was almost imperceptible. “This is such bull,” she said at a louder than normal volume. “I let you do all that crap to my house and it was worthless. Now the cops don’t even believe me. Maybe I
am
crazy, everyone seems to think so.”

A few of the nearby diners glanced their direction, obviously listening in. That was exactly what they needed for this to be plausible, especially if the killer was watching them as Detective Rogers suspected.

“Calm down, Cassie,” Frankie said, letting an edge of impatience creep into his voice. “I think you like to play the victim. All I’ve done is try to help you, so I think you’d show a bit more gratitude.”

“Help?” She barked out a bitter laugh. If Frankie didn’t know this was all pretend, he really would believe she was angry. “What did your help do? I played nursemaid to you all night while your stupid cameras couldn’t even catch his face.”

“Stupid cameras?” Frankie raised his voice slightly, proving to the onlookers that his patience was fraying. “My dad spent a shitload of money on those so-called stupid cameras, all to help you because I thought I was falling for you. Amazing what you find out about people after spending a mere twenty-four hours with them.”

“And just what is that supposed to mean?” she demanded.

“It means you’re a diva and kind of a bitch. You probably sent that threat to yourself to get attention.”

“Why would you say that?” She buried her face in her hands. “How could you be so cruel after all I’ve done for you?”

Her voice really did sound like she held back tears, and Frankie worried he might have taken things too far. Did she really think he was calling her a bitch? It was all an act. She had to know that... didn’t she?

As he sat uncertain whether to continue forward with the fight or back down to see if she couldn’t handle this, Cassie lifted her head, glaring at him.

Her red face looked blotchy, as though tears would burst forth any minute, and Frankie couldn’t handle it.

“I didn’t mean that, Cass. You have to know that I—”

“You’re a freakin’ cripple, Frankie Hernandez. And furthermore, you spend so much energy feeling sorry for yourself that I’ve been beating my head against the wall trying to help you.” The glare she gave didn’t waver at all, and Frankie cringed at her words. “I think you should call your dad and have him come get you and all your shit out of my house. I’m through taking care of your whiny ass. If you don’t believe me, I’ll just deal with this on my own.”

Their waitress, Shelley, walked up to the table, looking ready to kick ass if necessary. “Is there a problem here? You guys are disturbing everyone. Do I have to call the cops?”

“No,” Frankie grumbled, struggling to get his wallet from the pocket on his wheelchair and tossing money on the table. “We’re leaving. Just as soon as I can get ahold of my dad, I’m out of your life for good, Cassie.”

“Great,” she said. “That suits me just fine. I’ll go get the van and take you back to get your shit out of my house, just make sure your dad is there to meet us. I can’t believe I thought you were a friend.”

Cassie stood, pushing her way past the waitress and storming out the door.

“Are you okay?” Shelley’s eyes were wide and she bent to be at eye level with him in his chair. “I’m sure we can find someone to take you somewhere so you don’t have to ride with that woman. What a jerk.”

Frankie shook his head. “My van’s here, and I need a driver. I have to go to her place anyway because I need the charger for my chair’s battery. She might be a bitch, but I know she’ll get me to my dad. I’ll be okay.”

She glanced toward the doorway. “You’re sure she won’t leave you?”

“Not really, but I’ll call the cops and turn her in if she does. I own the van, not her.” Frankie pulled his phone from the pocket. “I could use your help with one thing.”

“Sure. Anything you need.”

“My phone doesn’t respond so well to these monster hands I have now after getting caught in a fire. Could you dial the number for my dad so I can talk to him?”