Deceived (26 page)

The night’s details rolled off my tongue. Each event replayed in my mind like a movie clip on a loop. Being attacked by the Reaper definitely gave my current nightmare some healthy competition. When the sketch artist arrived, I failed. I hadn’t seen his face. I’d never heard his voice. Based on my description of the way he’d held me, they guessed his height was roughly six feet, but only roughly. He was thin. I knew from the feel of his arm across my chest. Nicholas’s arms were double the width of his. When I’d kicked his shin, it felt small against my foot. I hoped I’d snapped it.

Of all I’d been able to tell them, the cigarette, which had become his calling card to me, was the biggest lead. They went back to look for a butt. If he’d been smoking when I saw him, and not smoking a minute later when he chased me, then he must have dropped the butt. The answers were in that cigarette. His DNA would be on the tiny, filthy piece of trash. If they could find it and put a name to it, the Reaper would no longer be able to hide. They radioed over to the crew clearing the scene and all were put on the lookout for one priceless piece of evidence.

I answered the same questions a dozen times. So many, in fact, I began to wonder if I answered incorrectly. Reeboks scolded Nicholas for letting me out of his sight and also for moving me in with him. He seemed especially concerned about what my father would say. I bit my cheeks to keep from yelling, “I’m almost eighteen!” On the whole, it was lose-lose for Nicholas. I felt horrible, but I didn’t want to stick up for him. Our relationship needed to stay hidden or he’d be in more trouble. I didn’t want him taken away from me.

When everyone had had their turn questioning me, a woman in a gray suit led me into a dimly lit room with a couch made up like a bed. She told me to make myself comfortable. It was going to be an all-nighter for their team. They agreed I needed to sleep. As if I could. Sleep sounded great to my body, but my mind refused to relent.

I didn’t know what my dreams might bring. I could handle the humdrum, impending-death dream that had plagued me before. What I couldn’t handle was falling helpless to the imagery in my head. Nothing I did pushed it away. During the questioning, I was relieved to spill it all out. After I finished, I shoved it into the mental lockbox that had reached capacity long ago.

I shuffled closer to the couch and sat. I sank into the faux-leather, overstuffed cushions with relief. A glass end table stood beside it adorned with a Tiffany-style lamp and some pads of paper. The blanket and pillow looked like they had come from a hotel, and were definitely new. Giant square-shaped creases from packaging covered the blanket. Pixie would’ve commented on how the cream color looked against the dark brown faux leather. She would’ve said something about the contrast. The word
inviting
rose in my mind, and my feet curled up beneath me. Torn between the rest I needed and the fear of what would come from sleep, I looked back to the lady who’d brought me.

“Is everything okay?” Genuine concern covered her face. I could only imagine what I looked like to her.

“Is there anywhere to get a good latte around here?” I was half joking, half desperate. I shook for too many reasons. I felt sick.

“Yeah, come on. I’ll take you.” She smiled.

“Really?” I perked up instantly. “Can you do that?”

She shifted her eyes left and then right. “I’m from the school of thought where it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission.”

I liked her already. When I smiled, she motioned for me to come to the doorway. She pointed down the hall to a storage area. I went ahead. Then she made a big play of turning off the light in the room and shutting the door.

“Back in ten,” she announced into the air and ran toward me on her tiptoes, stopping her pumps from clicking away as she went.

We made our way through a mostly empty storage room to a rear door. She held one perfect finger to her lips in warning. The sensible brown polish on her nail matched her well-tailored suit. By her youthful face, I assumed she wanted to look older, be taken seriously. Me, too.

She punched a code into a lighted keypad and swung the door open with one arm, allowing me to pass. I walked out into a small parking area and looked around. The night air chilled me. I had no idea what time it was by then. A swift breeze tousled my hair. I rubbed my arms while I waited for her to catch up. I appreciated the slap the night air gave me.

Several cars slept in ordered rows. The SUV we had arrived in looked like a drunken monkey had parked it. Nicholas must’ve brought it around while I told my story over and over to his colleagues. It occurred to me then that aside from Reeboks, his team was pretty young. Only two of the seven I met looked as if they could be in their forties. They were all younger than my father. Most looked closer to Nicholas’s age than I would’ve thought possible. The lady who had helped me escape looked a lot like half the girls in my senior class. Watching her, though, she was no teenager.

She approached a car. I followed. Her car was small, black, and sleek. It looked fast. I sank inside and strapped in. We’d barely left the business park before the giant green glow of my favorite coffee shop came into view. We pulled up to the drive-thru window, and I ordered my usual with an extra shot of espresso. She got tea. When she paid for the order, I realized I hadn’t brought my purse in from the SUV. I wasn’t even sure I’d brought it from the festival.

“So,” she mused, having softened me up with coffee. “You’ve been living with Nicholas for a week?”

I choked and coughed for what seemed like ten minutes. “Yeah,” I croaked. I didn’t know what to say, or what she was listening for.

“What’s that like for you, exactly?”

Ah, she wasn’t immune to him either. If they’d worked together long, she probably hated me for the time I got with him—not working. A sense of smugness filled my chest. I tucked my nose into the cup. If she was the catty type, she’d look for a way to separate us.

“I don’t know.” I drew on the poor-girl-in-danger persona. “It’s been overwhelming and a little scary this week. I’m not sure what to think about anything.” I watched her for a response.

She smiled. She was gorgeous.

I couldn’t compete with a woman in his profession who looked like her. They had way more in common than he and I ever would. She was all legs and heels, with a cool car and a dimple like his. Their wedding photos would be adorable. I leaned my head against the glass and wished I’d stayed in the couch room.

“He likes you, you know?” Her voice took on a little singsong quality.

I turned to look at her. “What?”

“He likes you. We can all see it. The others think he’s too attached to be careful. They think it has to do with the family history of the case, but I know him. He likes you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“He calls you Elle,” she said, as if that meant something or like it should’ve meant something.

“That’s my name.”
What was he supposed to call me?

She swung her cup in the air over the console. “No, you’re not ‘the subject’ or ‘the girl,’ or some code name. He gives code names a lot. Terrible ones, too. He sucks with names.” She shook her head and pulled onto the road back toward the office. “With you, it’s always ‘Elle did this. Elle did that.’”

My eyes popped. I turned my face back to the window, grateful for a short ride. The car bounced over speed bumps reentering the lot. I balanced my precious cargo in both hands, prepared to make a run for the couch. I couldn’t have this conversation, not with her, whoever she was. I reached for the door, ready to make a break for it. Nicholas waited outside in the dark next to the door we had escaped through. His arms were crossed over his chest. There was menace on his face.

As she shut down the engine, he strode into the lot and approached the car on the driver’s side. I worried for a minute that she was about to lose a car door. He knocked hard on her window with one knuckle. She smiled at me and held up one finger. I dropped my hand from the door. Then she cracked the power window a millimeter.

“Get out here, Sara, now,” he growled.

“Wait here a second, sweetie,” she whispered to me and let her eyes run up to the tiny crack in the window. I looked there with her. She winked and slid out.

“Are you insane!” he barked in a hush. I saw only their torsos from my seat, but thanks to the tiny crack, I could hear them loud and clear.

“She wanted coffee. You should know the girl needs her coffee.”

“That’s not funny. Do you know what you did to me? I went to check on her and she was gone!”

“Were you worried I was gone?”

She sounded jealous.

“No, actually, once I realized you were gone, it all made sense. Who else would take her without telling me? You always have to pull this crap. We’re not twelve anymore.”

Then I was lost.

“No, that’s true, Nicholas. You’re actually acting more like you’re sixteen than twelve.” Her voice was light, teasing.

His tone dropped. He leaned in closer to her. “Who have you told? Did you tell Mom?”

Did he say Mom?

No way.
My mind searched for any other explanation.
It couldn’t be
.

“Mom and I might’ve talked about it on Sunday afternoon.” She pushed his chest playfully.

His hand shot up. I guessed he was rubbing his neck. “Who else was there for your weekly luncheon? I suppose Nikki and Lily were there? And Olivia? Oh, you’re killing me, Sara. What about the guys? Tell me what I need to know. I don’t want to be ambushed. You owe me that much.”

“No, I know how they get. Matter of fact, little brother, you might want to tone it down before you announce it yourself.”

She reached behind her back to open her door and leaned inside. “Be good to him.”

Before I could speak, Nicholas went around the car and pulled open my door. He hauled me out, held me against his chest, and spoke over my head. “Thanks for buying her coffee.”

I turned in time to see the door close against the building.

“Your sister works on your team?” I spoke into his chest. I didn’t want to let go an inch.

“She’s here being nosy. Sara works as an intern with the Marshal service in D.C., but she grew up on this story. She’s a senior at William & Mary. We’re a real dynamic duo.”

“She’s your big sister? She looks pretty young.”

“Right. She calls me little brother because she knows it gets on my nerves. That’s what sisters do, right?”

I wouldn’t know.

“So she’s not your older sister? I’m confused.”

“No. Well, she is by like a minute.” He bobbed his head. “Seven minutes. If you ask her, she’ll be specific. Seven minutes.”

“She’s your twin!” Well, that explained the dimple. Scratch the crude thought about their wedding pictures.
Ick
. “Why’s she still in college?”

“I went to school every summer. She went to Key West.”

“Nice.” I smiled. He scoffed.

“I about had a coronary when I went into that room and you were gone. Actually, I knew you were gone when I saw the light off. You’d never lie down and sleep, especially here, like this.”

I ignored him. I had bigger things to address. “She said you like me.”

He pulled my chin away from his chest and bent at the knees until he was in my face. “
Like
does not begin to describe what I feel for you. I’m trying hard to make that clear without getting fired. You’re a slow learner.” His dimple caved in.

I melted into the hug, where my cheeks threatened to catch fire.

“The office, though, they have to wait.”

I smiled like a ninny. “Who are Lily, Nikki, and Lisa?”

“Olivia,” he corrected. “Lily, Nikki, and Olivia. Olivia is our big sis. Nikki and Lily are our cousins. We’re all nearly the same age. We grew up like siblings. We’re always together. The guys, too. Andrew and Jacob, both younger. They’re our little brothers.”

“Good night! How many kids are in your family?” What he described sounded like a small village. I couldn’t imagine having all those kids in my family.

“Five at our house, but there are eleven cousins and six aunts and uncles that go with them.”

I looked at him.

“Does that scare you?” He looked sad. “You like solitude. My family is intense. Your worst nightmare, I think.”

Au contraire
. It was my dream come true. A life filled with people who really knew me, people who shared my inside jokes and humiliating stories. I desperately wanted what he had. “It sounds wonderful.”

Evidently he liked my answer because he smiled and hugged me tighter. “Ah, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

I wondered if I’d ever meet his family. I didn’t know where my dad was. My boring, predictable life suddenly resembled a puzzle thrown into the air.

“You know, you and your father are always welcome. ‘The more the merrier’ is branded on my mom’s forehead.”

I considered adding
mind reader
to his lengthy list of attributes.
Crazy
topped the list because that was an insane thing to say.

“We’ll invite him for a visit when we’re out there for Thanksgiving.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Nicholas took me to the couch room and left me there with the light on and door open. I finished my coffee. My mind wandered over everything from my first day in Ohio until that night.

There were several holes in the Reaper story. Pacing around the room, I worked over the pieces, but something didn’t fit. The notepads on the end table caught my eye. I grabbed one and picked up my purse off the floor. Nice to know all of my personal information and my phone weren’t lost or in the possession of the man who had attacked me. I dug through my purse, fruitlessly. Pens always disappeared in an emergency. I stuck my head out of the doorway to see if I could borrow one. No one was there.

I walked into the open area near the door we had arrived through, but the cubicles were empty. Voices filtered through the conference room wall where I’d been questioned. Seven heads nodded in unison from the chairs inside. Their backs faced the glass wall separating us.