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Authors: Mary Burton

I'll Never Let You Go (Morgans of Nashville) (30 page)

BOOK: I'll Never Let You Go (Morgans of Nashville)
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He’d underestimated Morgan. Roughing him up should have been an easy job.
Don’t think I forgot you, Agent Morgan.
He spotted the woman sitting at the counter and forced himself to push aside his disappointment. He’d failed with Morgan, but he wouldn’t wither. Shrugging off the anger, he straightened his shoulders and adjusted his jacket as he stepped up to the hostess stand. “I see my wife at the bar. You mind if I scoot in the seat beside her?”
The young woman smiled. “Sure.”
He moved through the crowd of people and took the seat beside the woman. After ordering a coffee, he grabbed a laminated menu. “What do you recommend?”
He spoke loud enough for her to hear but was careful not to lean toward her or even look at her. A smart predator always moved slowly and carefully until he pounced.
Her gaze flickered toward him, as if she wasn’t sure he’d spoken to her.
He smiled, knowing the dimple in his right cheek could charm the hardest of hearts. Carefully, he sipped his coffee as he closed the menu. “I see you like breakfast for dinner.”
Grinning, she held his gaze. “It’s the cheapest and best dinner there is.”
“I hear ya.” When the counter waitress came up to him, he handed her the menu. “Whatever she has looks great.”
“Two eggs over easy, pancakes, grits, and bacon.”
“It’s a winner.” He liked the taste of fresh eggs. Not the powdered crap most places served these days but cracked fresh from the shell. And he liked bacon crisp with lots of fat. “Do you remember me?”
She leaned back a fraction as she studied his face. “We met at the church last week. And you dropped Charlie off at the vet.”
He produced a sheepish grin. “Gail, right?”
“Good memory. You never came back to get Charlie.”
He nodded. “My mom died within an hour of my dropping off Charlie. I only just got back into town. Is she doing all right? You didn’t send her back to the shelter, did you? Poor thing hated the place.”
Her gaze warmed a degree. “No, we didn’t send her back. Fact, one of our vets wants to adopt her.”
“Really?” He shook his head. “I was gonna call first thing tomorrow and ask about her.”
“Good luck getting her away from Leah.”
“Leah?”
“The vet.”
“Does she really love the dog?”
“Crazy about her. Crazy in love with that dog.”
A smile quirked his lips. “That’s good for Charlie. Real good. I need to settle up with the clinic for my bill.”
“You gonna take Charlie?”
“This Leah really does love her?”
“Yes. Loves her.”
He shook his head, low and slow. “Don’t know if I have the right. And I want the dog to be happy.”
“She is.”
“Tell Leah I’ll be by tomorrow to settle up, and if she’s really loving that dog, well, she can have her. The pound’s got plenty of dogs that need a home.”
She leaned in a fraction. “The dog reminds Leah of one she had as a kid.”
“That’s good. Real good.” He set the salt shaker close to the pepper shaker. “It’s been a week for losses.”
She cocked her head. “You lost your mom.”
“Yeah. Sudden.” His grin was watery, vulnerable. “Let’s talk about something else.”
“Like what?”
He shrugged, sensing he’d dropped just the right bait in the water to catch this fish. “I don’t know, what’s got you eating dinner so late tonight?”
“I work some evenings at the animal hospital. I just got off and I’m starving.” She reached for a crispy piece of bacon and carefully snapped it in half.
He’d chosen her. Not because she was pretty or because she was remotely his type. He’d chosen her because she knew Leah. And he wanted to show Leah how close she was to dying.
As the waitress set a black coffee in front of him, he reached for the sugar shaker and dumped in a couple of teaspoons. As he stirred slowly, his spoon clinked against the sides of the mug.
Winning a woman over was one of his strengths. He knew when to smile, when to compliment. Seduction required a certain degree of skill, an artist’s touch, if you will. And so he set about winning the fair Gail; charming her, sensing the right things to talk about and to avoid. Within thirty minutes, both had finished their meals and were lingering, laughing.
When she spoke to him, she leaned in just a little as she gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Want to get out of here?”
“Sure. Where?”
Color warmed her cheeks. “My place is a mess.”
He kissed her very gently on the lips. “I don’t care.”
She kissed him back in an aggressive way he didn’t quite enjoy but allowed. When a woman believed she was in control, she’d go just about anywhere with a man.
She drove her car and he drove his truck. Risky to release control for this brief time, so he stayed close on her bumper, even running a red light to keep her in his sights.
When they arrived at her apartment, he parked directly beside her and quickly crossed to her door so that he would be there to escort her inside. Under the glare of the street lamp, she blushed as he closed her car door. He leaned forward and kissed her very softly on the lips. She ran her tongue over her teeth and took his hand in hers.
Hand in hand, they climbed the stairs to her apartment, and as she fumbled to put her key in the lock, he kissed the nape of her neck. She giggled. When the door closed behind them, he threaded his fingers through her hair and pulled her, none too gently, closer to him.
She giggled.
He growled.
 
 
Leah arrived home at two thirty in the morning. Fatigue had drained her body, and her mind refused to stop spinning. Charlie barked from her crate, and she crossed the room to let the pup out and took the dog outside for a walk. Back inside, she changed into sweats and a T-shirt and, with Charlie at her side, settled in front of the television to unwind.
An infomercial playing, she relaxed her head back against the couch and thought about the listening device perched feet from her. Philip. She’d wanted to tell Alex about the device, but one look at his pale, drawn features and she’d decided the information could wait. If she had told him, he’d have ignored his body’s need for rest and forced himself out of bed.
At some point she dozed and only started awake when she heard her cell chime with a text. A glance at the clock and she realized it was four in the morning. Assuming it was Alex, she imagined he wasn’t having much luck sleeping. She reached for her phone, and when she glanced down and saw Gail’s number, she grew curious.
She opened the message. Gail was smiling, laughing, her eyes brighter than Leah had ever seen them. The man next to Gail was kissing her on the cheek. His face was turned away from the camera, but there was no missing the strong shoulders and the military-neat, short, dark hair.
Leah was poised to text back a smiley face when she took a second look at the man. Something about him . . . and then she saw his hand and the dark signet ring on his pinky finger. The gold embossed L shined out at her like a warning beacon.
Bile rose in her throat, and she nearly dropped the phone. That was Philip’s ring—the same ring that had winked in the moonlight as he’d traced the tip of his knife along her belly.
Silence coiled around her and tightened as she stared at the picture. This was all a game to him. He wanted her to know he was close. Wanted her to know he could reach any of her friends. Wanted her to be afraid. Her bones chilled.
Hands shaking, she texted Gail. Who is this guy?
She waited, one, two, three minutes. But no text came back. She hit the Call button and leaned forward as the phone rang. Four rings and her call went to voice mail. “This is Gail. Leave a message!”
“Gail, this is Leah. Who’s that guy? He looks a lot like my ex-husband, Philip. If he’s Philip, he’s very dangerous. You need to get away from him. Call me.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Tuesday, January 24, 7 A.M.
 
Alex struggled as he tried to slide his left arm into his shirt. Pain shot up his arm and across his ribs, and for a moment, his breath caught in his throat as an oath leaked past clenched teeth.
Deke found him cursing when he knocked on the door. “How’s it going?”
Cutting pain banded his ribs. He was almost sorry he’d refused the painkillers when a nurse had offered them to him at five that morning. He needed a clear head today. Too many pieces of this puzzle still missing. A fuzzy mind wouldn’t get the job done. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
Positive talk didn’t temper the pain as he slid the arm into the sleeve and slowly pulled it up to his shoulder, inch by painful inch. The second arm promised to be more difficult. “Looks are deceiving.”
Deke came up behind him, set two cups of coffee down on the side table, and lifted the collar of Alex’s shirt so that he could insert his arm into the sleeve. The simple task left Alex’s heart pounding as he reached for the first button and began to fasten it. Not as painful, but miserably slow-going. “Thanks.”
“The doctors said you’re supposed to be on pain meds for a few days.”
“I’m waiting for the aspirin to kick in.” He’d reached for his cuffs and started rolling them up.
“Aspirin? I think something stronger is in order.”
“Not today.”
“Going to be a tough guy?” Deke sipped his coffee, a grin peeking over the cup.
“You’d be wise not to poke the bear today.” Alex left the second cuff unrolled as he accepted the warm cup and took a sip. “Thanks.”
Deke’s mouth lost its grin but the smile remained in his gaze. “Understood.”
“This tastes good. The nurses wouldn’t give me coffee this morning.”
Deke grunted. “That’s just not right on so many levels.”
A half smile tweaked his lips. “A few of them barely escaped with their lives.”
Deke pulled up a chair, flipped it around, and sat. “I also think the doctors aren’t expecting you to leave so soon. Is this a sanctioned escape?”
“No.”
“You haven’t been cleared?”
“Cleared enough. Bruised ribs, no breaks, and no internal damage. And when the aspirin takes hold, I’ll be fine. I just need to get moving.”
“I’m guessing they want you to take it easy for a few days.”
Alex set down his coffee and rolled up the second sleeve. “It’s not about what they want, it’s about what I need to do.”
Deke sipped his coffee. If any arguments crossed his mind, he kept them to himself. “Any thoughts on who would like to beat the hell out of you? I’ve theories, but I’m curious about your ideas.”
“There’s a long list somewhere.”
“Any of Ray Murphy’s pals? Tyler Radcliff should be at the top. And the mysterious Philip Latimer.”
“Radcliff is laying low, from what I’ve heard. He’s taken the week off from work.”
“So no one knows if he’s passed out drunk at home or wandering the streets with a baseball bat?”
Carefully, Alex tucked in his shirt and considered the theory. “Maybe.”
“Do you really think Deidre’s plan to bring Philip Latimer to Nashville worked?”
“Someone has been stalking Leah. She keeps a journal like she did when her ex-husband stalked her.”
“She still keeps notes?”
“She’s the first to admit it’s a bit OCD.”
“Yeah.”
“I read through the journal yesterday. Lots of odd things have been happening to her. Almost as if someone’s been slowly turning up the heat. She thought someone was in her house. Hacked credit cards. Flowers wishing her a happy anniversary. Someone set up movers to move all the stuff out of her house.”
“You think it’s Philip Latimer?”
“If it’s not him, it’s someone just like him.”
“She dated anyone else since him?”
“She says no.”
“Crazy neighbors? Odd coworkers? Stalkers come in all shapes and sizes.”
“I’d agree, if not for Deidre. She’s tied up in this.”
“She nailed the stalker, maybe?”
“I don’t know.”
Deke smoothed out Alex’s crumpled red tie and handed it to him. Then he pulled Alex’s gun from his waistband. “I hung onto this after they admitted you.”
“Thanks.” He fastened the cuffs of his shirt and, with Deke’s help, eased on his coat. He reached for his wallet, pocket change, and utility knife and slid it in his pockets. He opened his phone and typed in his passcode. The low battery light blinked. One more text from Leah. Maybe she’d scored a few hours of sleep last night.
I
RECEIVED A TEXT FROM A FRIEND LAST NIGHT
. S
HE WAS WITH A MAN.
T
HE MAN’S FACE ISN’T CLEAR BUT HE IS WEARING
P
HILIP’S RING
. I’
M FORWARDING THE PICTURE
. A
LSO FOUND A LISTENING
DEVICE IN MY HOME
. C
ALL ME
.
Alex studied the picture Leah sent and showed it to Deke as he supplied the backstory.
“A listening device. Like the one found in Deidre’s town house. Someone was tracking them both?”
“I’d say so.”
“Why play cat and mouse?”
Anger churned as he thought about Leah alone and worried over the texted picture. “Control is part of the thrill, the addiction. He gets a kick out of playing games.”
“So who’s in the picture with the mystery man?”
“Her name is Gail. She works at the animal hospital with Leah.”
“And Leah can’t reach her.”
“Not as of the last message, which she sent twenty-two minutes ago.”
Deke handed Alex his badge. When Alex clipped it on his belt, Deke took his coat and held it up. Alex eased the arm of his injured side into the coat first and carefully followed with his second. Painful, but not as bad as the shirt.
“Want me to get a wheelchair?” Deke asked.
“Hell no.”
A nurse swiped back the curtain. She was tall and wore green scrubs and a scowl. She’d tried to convince him to take the pain meds earlier, and when he’d refused, she’d eyed him with suspicion. “I thought you would try to make a break for it.”
Alex braced for a fight. “I am.”
She shook her head, disapproval furrowing her brow. “I brought you these.” She held up a cup with two pills.
“No meds. I need to think.”
“They won’t make you woozy. Not much stronger than aspirin, but they’ll take the edge off better than anything over the counter.”
“You sure they won’t cloud my head?”
“Positive.”
Alex gratefully accepted the pills and tossed them in his mouth. He chased them back with a cup of water from the nurse.
“Try not to get banged up again, Agent Morgan.”
“Will do my best.”
He took a step forward and saw the waiting wheelchair. “I don’t need that.”
“If you want out, that’s your only ticket. I’ve met you halfway; now it’s your turn.”
“Fine.” He lowered himself into the chair and was oddly grateful to be sitting again. With the nurse pushing, Deke led the way. As Alex waited with her at the front entrance curbside, Deke got in his car and drove around front. It was a late-model black four-door that looked like it would move if Deke stomped on the accelerator.
Alex slid into the passenger side and very slowly buckled his seat belt.
“Where to, boss?”
“The vet hospital where Leah works.”
“Will do.”
Alex dialed the hospital and got a recorded message. Halfway into the recording the message stopped and he heard a breathless, “Nelson Animal Hospital.”
“This is Agent Alex Morgan. I’m looking for Leah Carson.”
“She’s in surgery right now. Can I take a message?” Papers shuffled in the background, as if she was searching for a pen.
“Who is this?”
“This is Gail.”
“Ms. Carson called me this morning about you.”
“Yeah, she looked a little freaked out when I poked my head into surgery a few minutes ago.”
“When will she be out of surgery?”
“In about two hours.”
“I’ll be there in two hours, and I’d also like to talk to you.”
“Does it have to do with that guy I went out with last night? I know Leah thinks it’s her ex-husband, but that’s just crazy. His name was Philip, and this guy’s name was Brian Lawrence.”
“Brian Lawrence.” Shit. That was the guy who ordered flowers for Leah.
“Is something wrong,” she asked.
“I’ll explain when I get there.”
“Yeah, sure.”
He hung up. “Leah and Gail are at the clinic.”
“Then why do you look angry?”
“Brian Lawrence. Gail went out with the same guy who sent Leah flowers.”
Frowning, Deke reached for a notebook and pen. “Are you sure about that name?”
“Yes.”
Deke’s expression darkened as he rounded a corner and slowed for a yellow light. “Remember what Dad used to say about coincidence?”
“Yeah. No such thing.”
“You hear about those hands and feet we found by the river?”
Alex shook his head. “Vaguely. Didn’t pay too close attention.”
“That guy’s name was Brian Lawrence.”
 
 
“Gail,” Leah said. She hadn’t been out of surgery five seconds before she went looking for the receptionist. “What’s the deal with texting me that picture last night?”
Gail yawned, not seeming the least concerned. “I didn’t text you a picture.”
Leah got her phone and showed it to Gail. “You did.”
She frowned as she studied the picture. “I don’t remember sending this to you. He was the one who suggested taking the picture.”
“But that’s you. The text came from your phone.”
“Yeah, so? What’s the big deal? We had a few drinks after we got back to my place. Maybe he sent it.” She reached for a patient form and tucked it back in its file. “Again, what’s the big deal?”
Leah moved closer to the counter. “Who’s the guy?”
Gail looked up, her face flushed with irritation. “I’m sorry if the text bothered you, but why do you care who I spend the evening with?” She dropped her voice a notch. “It’s none of your business.”
Leah might be stepping over the line, but she couldn’t let this go. “He looks like my ex-husband.”
Gail cocked her head, as if she expected a punch line. “Really?”
“Yes, really!”
She dropped her gaze and straightened a stack of invoices. “We ran into each other at a diner. It went from there.”
Leah could feel the earth shift under her as she struggled to keep her voice calm. “If he’s the guy I think he is, he’s pure evil.”
Shaking her head, Gail held up a hand. “He was very sweet and nice. I haven’t had such a good time in forever.”
Leah glanced one last time at the picture and then shut off the phone.
Gail leaned back in her chair, regarding Leah with a weary gaze. “You really think this guy is your ex-husband, and he came back from the dead to take me out?”
“I think he faked his death. I think he’s been waiting to return.” Even as she spoke the words, she understood how crazy she sounded.
“To do what?”
“Wreck my life and everyone I know.”
“That sounds pretty weird, don’t you think?”
“I don’t care if it sounds weird or not.” Hands fisted, she clung to control. “We need to assume that Philip is alive and be careful.”
Gail folded her arms over her chest. “You sound insane.”
She dragged a shaking hand over her hair. “I know. I know. But you have to trust me on this. Philip is a very charming man. He’s attractive, and he knows the right things to say to make a woman feel good.”
“I think you’re losing it. I think the death of your friend Deidre has really upset you, and you’re seeing trouble when there is none. Maybe it’s like one of those flashbacks, the kind soldiers get when a car backfires. They hear a loud noise and think someone is shooting at them.”
“The ring on his hand. It’s exactly like Philip’s.”
Gail flattened her palms on the desk and leaned toward Leah. “It’s a ring, Leah. Give me a break. There must be thousands just like it.
“Philip’s grandfather gave him that ring.”
“You’re stretching things, Leah. I mean, I think your ex-husband did bad things to you, but, really, you think he’d fake his death and then come back just to freak you out?”
“Yes, I do. I’m starting to think Philip had something to do with Deidre’s death as well.”
Gail shook her head, her eyes darkening with concern. “It’s a big stretch, Leah. In fact, I’m kinda worried about you.”
“I know what I’m talking about.”
“Do you have proof?”
“My credit card was skimmed, someone tried to move my furniture out of my house, and remember the anniversary flowers?”
“When’s the last time you saw this guy?”
She rubbed her palms together. The uneven skin of the scars brushed against each other. “It’s been four years.”
“And he suddenly just shows up with a different name and starts killing and shagging your friends.”
If Philip could hear this conversation, he’d be laughing. He loved knowing he could upset her. “But it all feels like Philip.”
“Philip. And my date’s name wasn’t Philip. It was Brian.”
“Brian what?”
She hesitated. “Lawrence.”
“Brian Lawrence? That’s the guy who dropped off Charlie. I called him and left him a message.”
“He explained that. Said his mother died. He said he was coming by to settle up the bill with you for Charlie.”
Settle up.
Shit. That bastard was sending her a message.
“Just because it feels like Philip doesn’t mean it
is
Philip. Maybe you need to take a break.” Gail flattened her lips. “Leah, maybe you have PTSD or something?”
BOOK: I'll Never Let You Go (Morgans of Nashville)
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