Forever Mine (20 page)

She made two fists and squeezed hard.

“My dream, for as long as I can remember, was to create my own fashion line. While the other kids roller skated or rode bikes around the neighborhood, I sewed clothes for my dolls. In high school, instead of catching up on the latest celebrity gossip, I thumbed through Vogue and Harper’s Bazaar, imagining I was the couturier profiled on their pages.” She shook her head. “I don’t expect you to understand.”

“Of course I do. I’ve seen how hard you work. I understand how much winning the competition must mean to you. But no contest can be worth risking your life. Your mother and stepfather have plenty of money. If you dropped out and asked them, I’ll bet they’d set you up with everything you’d need to get your clothing line up and running.”

“What would you do? Let someone buy you success?”

His answer accompanied a shake of his head. “No. I wouldn’t.”

“Well, neither would I. I’ll either sink or swim on
my
merits, and I’ll do it on my own terms.”

“Allie, my most important obligation is ensuring your safety. Something I can’t and won’t compromise.”

“I’m not suggesting you do. But, after coming this far, I won’t drop out. If I win the last leg of the competition in September, there’ll be prize money to rent a loft and hire people to do a lot of the day-to-day work. The money would free me to concentrate on design and fabric and meeting buyers and manufacturers. Maybe attract an investor or two, which would open up more opportunities. My designs could be featured in catalogues and fashion magazines. The winner already has a guaranteed commitment from Nordstrom’s to introduce their casual and dressy evening wear. You can’t
buy
those rewards. You have to earn them.”

Her fists came down hard on the tabletop, rattling the cup and saucer. “I won’t allow some psychopath to deprive me of my best chance.”

He seemed to gather his thoughts. “Thompson and I can only protect you until the semi-finals. The next day, you’ll join your friends in Cabo. When you return, you either have to find a safe place or take your chances here.”

He pushed away from the counter. “Sorry, but those are the captain’s orders.”

The look on Ben’s face told her how much he disliked his superior’s decision.

Allie bit down on her lip, but it didn’t stop her heart from pounding.

Sutter moved to the table, gripped the back of the chair he’d vacated and leaned in toward her.

“Let’s hope our boy is anxious for a face-to-face with you. No more dilly-dallying around. He’s set the stage. You know what I think? I think he’s a lot closer than any of us realize. Yeah, after today, I’d say he’s close enough to smell.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

He lay in the dark on a mattress that sagged from the imprint of too many bodies flopping in the bed before him. Although the rundown motel was set well back from the road, the thrum of the late Saturday night traffic on the four-lane filtered through the closed windows. Pulled shades and cheesy curtains covered the glass, but no matter. Every minute or so, the irritating hum, along with the glare of high beams, cut into the room and kept him awake.

His head hurt—any loud noise or commotion drilled into his skull—and the lumpy pillow made it worse. It was like putting your head down on a flour sack. No use complaining, though. Because of…what’s her name?…ah yes, Jordan, they had a place to crash. Even though it was risky stretching out their welcome by staying through Friday night.

Her place was a dump with a sink full of dirty dishes and tabloid newspapers and magazines tossed all over the living room. Soiled clothes lay lumped in a corner on the bathroom floor. But what the hell, it beat springing for another motel, and they’d found thirty-eight bucks in her wallet and another sixty-two rolled up and stuck in a coffee mug. Problem was, split two ways, it hardly added up to chump change.

The big find was the credit card they’d come across in her wallet.

As he’d rolled around on the lumpy mattress that morning, he’d thought about the coming days, especially since they were closer to San Francisco. He was tired of hitchhiking, of breaking into abandoned houses and eating crappy food. And he was sick of seedy motels off the beaten track. He wanted to stay put and settle in for a while. That got him thinking about Allie Nash again. He smiled and imagined the first thing he’d say to her when he walked through her door. Just the anticipation of hooking up with her had gotten him hard. Then—bam—at the thought of sharing her, his erection died. Well, you never knew. Maybe there was still time to find a way around what had been originally planned as a cozy threesome.

All along, he’d been thinking about how to make an impression on her. Some other way besides showing up with almost a week’s growth of beard. He was pretty sure a lot of women today found it sexy. They appreciated men who did something extra nice for them like buy them gifts. Something he’d never bothered about with women. Allie was different. Be nice to bring her some kind of present, considering what he expected in return. But good impressions cost money, a lot more than he could lay his hands on.

It wasn’t just the Saturday night noise and lights keeping him awake. Every time he thought of the daring stroke he’d pulled off earlier in the morning, excitement zapped through his body. After he’d dug into a package of cookies he’d found on top of Jordan’s refrigerator, he’d rummaged through the kitchen cabinets and drawers hoping to find another secret stash of money. In one of the drawers, he’d come across a phone book. It had given him an idea, but he’d had to use the credit card, in spite of the risk of getting caught. He’d made his decision in less time than it took him to blink.

He’d picked out the name of a local florist, called in an order and kept his fingers crossed, hoping the credit card would pass muster. It did. Too bad he couldn’t have used his name on the card. He’d had to settle for “Guess Who,” but at least he’d been able to arrange for the heart and
Forever Yours
to make it more personal. The name business would get sorted out in San Francisco.

By now the flowers had been delivered. He’d like to have seen her face when she read the card. Yeah, he’d bet she’d gotten a real kick out of the mysterious “Guess Who.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

The lieutenant called from his car parked on a side street around the corner from Allie’s house.

“I’ll wait a few moments and hook up with Ed,” Chase said. “He just pulled into a parking spot nearby. We’ll come into the house together.

“I’ll meet you downstairs,” Ben said.

Ben left Allie upstairs in the kitchen before heading for the ground floor and the back room. He took up a position at the window there and waited for the lieutenant and Thompson to enter the property through the rear gate.

The milky light from a three-quarter moon scattered shadows about the garden. The downstairs interior of the house remained in semi-darkness, the only light issuing from the upstairs kitchen fixture.

It had bothered him to tell Allie their guard duty would end on Thursday night. He should have held the information until after the competition and certainly not dropped the news in such a blunt way. Cooped up in the house for twelve hours every day for over a week had rattled his nerves. His patience, stretched thin, kept him on edge. Still, maybe he shouldn’t have sprung the order on her so soon after the shock of finding the flowers.

At least the warning gave her a few days to think about her options and make an intelligent choice. If she’d asked his opinion, which she never had before nor probably ever would, he’d have strongly advised her to find a place as far away from her house as possible and settle there for the foreseeable future.

It was close to midnight when Thompson used his key to open the gate. He and the lieutenant headed across the stepping stones, which cut a path through the garden grass. Ben exited through the backdoor and waited for them on the porch. No one spoke until they’d reentered the house.

“It seems our boy might have escalated his kill time,” Lt. Chase said, explaining what he’d learned since hearing about Allie having had no connection to Jordan Weeks. He kept his voice low so it didn’t carry up to the second floor. “If that’s the case, his latest possible victim lives in Red Bluff. A credit card bearing Ms. Weeks’s name was used to order the flowers sent here. According to DMV records, Jordan is a twenty-three-year-old woman and resides in that town. Also, the credit company confirmed a Visa card had been issued in her name at the same address. Except we know a woman didn’t place the floral order. A man did. We’re going under the presumption it was Barnett.”

“Sure, that’s why the card that accompanied the flowers bore no signature,” Ben said. “Only ‘Guess Who.’”

“Weeks is a woman?” A frown tugged at Thompson’s brow. “How did Dave pull that off?”

“How do you think?” Chase glanced from Thompson to Ben.

“To avoid the chance of being asked to show ID, he’d have had to phone in the order,” Ben said.

“Right.” Chase pulled a pad from his jacket pocket and flipped it open. “This is the gist of the notes taken by the detectives who interviewed the owner of Peter’s Garden. This morning, he received a wire from a florist in Red Bluff requesting a delivery at Ms. Nash’s address. The order came in sometime around 9:00 A.M. The people at Peter’s Garden were busy putting together bridal bouquets and floral arrangements for three weddings. Turned out the earliest he could deliver the flowers to Ms. Nash would be some time after seven in the evening. The Red Bluff florist would have already run a check on the card. Apparently, everything was legit, so the owner of Peter’s Garden filled the two-hundred-dollar order.”

“Two hundred bucks?” Thompson gave a long, low whistle. “The creep pulled out all the stops.”

Ben shook his head. He had an ugly feeling about what was coming next. He assumed from what the lieutenant had already said that the real owner of the credit card, the Weeks woman, was in peril, if not deceased.

Chase folded the pad and replaced it in his jacket pocket.

“After we got Ms. Week’s home address from DMV records, we notified the Red Bluff police. No one has reported her missing, and it’s been less than twenty-four hours since the card was used. There’s no answer at her home, but the police will continue trying to make contact. No matter how you size up the situation, it sounds bad. In the meantime, the authorities up there are working on a search warrant.”

“Jeez.” Thompson leaned against the edge of Allie’s work table. “You think he got the idea of sending the flowers once he found out Week’s name was…what do they call it…unisex? It could belong to either a man or a woman?”

“That’s our guess,” Chase said. “He doesn’t seem to miss an opportunity.” His eyes shifted up to the ceiling then to Ben and Thompson. “I’ll leave it up to both of you as to how much you want to tell Ms. Nash. Any chance we can still move her out of here?”

Ben shook his head. “Negative. She’s turned this place into a small factory. We can’t move all the equipment. She’s still finishing up the clothes for the competition.”

He glanced at the worktable, shelves of fabric and the two metal racks on which clothing hung in different stages of completion. Add to that the two industrial sized sewing machines, chairs and body forms in the center room. “Thursday night, we go to the venue behind City Hall. The contest sponsors will have already set up some kind of tent. First thing Wednesday morning, I’ll contact whoever’s in charge of security, whether it’s SFPD, private or both. We’re gonna need copies of Dave’s police sketch to pass around to everyone who’s on duty.”

“You’ll find them back at the station in an envelope on your desk. Also, I’ll take the flowers with me. I’ll have the guys at the lab go over everything, although I know Barnett never touch them. But they’ll need pictures entered into evidence. Chase gripped the knob and cracked open the backdoor. “Keep me informed of any changes here. If I learn anything further, I’ll pass it on ASAP to both of you.”

Thompson escorted the lieutenant to the back fence then locked the door behind him.

When his partner returned to the house, Ben volunteered to speak to Allie alone. He worried how she’d take the captain’s news and hoped a one-on-one might seem less intimidating. She might already have pieced together some of what the authorities knew. Earlier, she seemed to have herself under tight control, but the latest news was liable to produce an unwelcome change.

Thompson appeared relieved. “Yeah, you’d better break it to her. You probably know her better than I do. She sleeps through most of my watch. After she has her breakfast, she goes downstairs and works on the clothes. We talk, but our conversations are limited. I try not to disturb her too often.”

“Okay then. Give me a few minutes.” Ben headed toward the stairs. There was probably a woman dead in Red Bluff. Now, he and Thompson had to do everything in their power to make sure no harm came to the woman who, wisely or not, had placed her life in their hands.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Allie waited in the kitchen, bent over in her chair, her arms folded in her lap. Nausea threatened and, as much as she tried, she couldn’t control the rapid pace of her heartbeat. When Ben entered the room, she sat straight up. From the look on his face, she suspected something quite deadly had brought Lt. Chase out so late at night. Something Chase apparently needed to share quickly and in person with his two detectives.

She bit down on her lower lip. Questions somersaulted through her mind. Although she wanted answers, she feared whatever Ben told her would only magnify her apprehension. She would have to chance it. Quite possibly, an innocent person had wound up in the middle of a nightmare. What had been his or her fate? Something gruesome, she suspected, for anyone who had encountered Dave. As much as she tried, Allie found it impossible to sweep aside the latest occurrence. She refused to remain silent.