Out Of Control (12 page)

He
laughed silently to himself.

He’d
thought long and hard about doing this. His other hobby was so much safer and
nearly as fulfilling. But he needed to get rid of Carrie, and he couldn’t make
it too obvious.

Oh,
yes. He was just getting started. This was only the beginning. He needed to
have his next victim picked out and be ready to act quickly. And the ones after
that as well, all of them leading him to the biggest prize of all.

Yes,
sir. Before he sent Carrie to permanent hell, he’d show her what hell was like
here on earth. And he’d enjoy every minute of it.

He
sighed, put his truck in gear, and let it roll silently down the incline and
out of sight of the park. He really wanted to hang around until they took the
body out. Maybe get another look. But that was flirting with danger and he hadn’t
quite reached that stage again yet.

Except,
of course, with his other little hobby.

Chapter
Twelve

“I
wanted you the minute I saw you, jogging in the rain, that T-shirt plastered to
your breasts.” Cole traced her jawline with the tip of his tongue.

“You
should have been looking where you were driving instead of at my breasts,” she
teased, running her fingers through the curls of hair on his hard chest.

They
were lying side by side, one of his hands idly rubbing through the curls on her
mound, his fingers unerringly finding the wet flesh of her pussy. It seemed to
her she was always wet when he was around.

“At
least now I get to look at them all I want.” His voiced was husky with need.

Bending
his head, he captured one nipple in his mouth and pulled on it, swirling his
tongue around it. Heat speared through her body send fresh cream into her
pussy. Her pulse beat fiercely, driving up the hunger in her body.

“Beautiful
breasts,” he murmured as he turned his attention to the other one.

Tugging
the nipple with his teeth, he slipped two fingers into her waiting channel,
chuckling against her breast when her inner muscles clamped down on him.

The
hard thickness of his cock pressed against her thigh, and she wriggled a hand
between them to close her fingers around it.

“Ah,
God,” he groaned when she squeezed gently. “Careful, or I’ll come in your hand.”

“Maybe
I want you to.” She heard the desire in her own voice. “Maybe I—”

The
ringing of her cell phone cut through the fog and jerked Dana from the dream.
She was gasping for breath, and her body was covered with a fine sheen of
perspiration.

Holy
crap!

Another
dream about Cole Landry.

The
phone continued to make noise, the annoying ringer she’d chosen stabbing at
her. She fumbled for it on the nightstand and flipped it open.

“H’lo?”
She ran her fingers through her sleep-mussed hair.

“Hey.”
Grant’s voice was the last one she expected to hear.

“I’m
surprised you called,” she told him. “We didn’t exactly part on the best terms.”

“And
that’s exactly why I’m talking to you now,” he told her. “I feel badly about
the way things ended between us.” He paused. “I don’t hate you, Dana. I guess I
was just hurt that, well…”

“That
you weren’t the one to break through the wall?” she snapped. Then she softened
her tone. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it to come out like that.”

“I
guess I’m sorry about everything, kiddo. I just wanted to make sure you’re all
right. I went by the house, but it was locked up tight.”

“I…decided
to take your advice.” She twisted a strand of hair as she talked, a long-time
habit, the only thing that ever betrayed the state of her nerves.

“About
confronting the past?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Good.
That’s good.” Silence. “Maybe when you get back—”

“I
don’t think so, Grant,” she interrupted, shaking her head, even though he
couldn’t see her. “I am more grateful than you know for pushing me to do this,
but I think what we had was all we were meant to have. Anyway, this may take a
lot longer than I expected.”

“Oh?
Problems?”

“This
seems to be the proverbial let’s-sweep-it-under-the-rug situation. Everyone
wants it to go away and me with it.” She twisted the curl tighter, then pulled
it out, letting it spring back like a coil of wire.

“I
heard what you said before, but if things are tense would you like me to come
down there?”

Dana
could visualize Grant stretched out on his leather couch, phone propped to his
ear, frowning at the thought he might get sucked into something beyond his
comfort zone.

She
burst out laughing. “I don’t think this place is exactly your cup of tea. And
you’d hate getting caught up in something so convoluted. But thanks, anyway.”

“You
will
call me if things get too hairy, right?”

“Of
course. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

Would
she? In any event, one of the last people she needed tagging behind her was
Grant, who, despite what she was thinking was a conscience call, had all but
told her to go to hell.

Not
that she probably hadn’t needed to hear it. It gave her the shove she needed to
dig back into her past. It also pointed out very clearly to her how shallow all
her relationships had been, Grant being just a carbon copy of the others.

She
said good-bye, snapped the phone shut, and leaned back in her chair, rubbing
her forehead. No way could she tell him she had such conflicting emotions about
the whole thing. She wanted answers. She didn’t want them. She wanted to
reconnect with the place she was born. She wanted to get as far from it as
possible.

And,
of course, there was Sheriff Cole Landry, damn him. The ultimate alpha male. All
her life she’d retreated from men, the horrific memories she’d pushed away
freezing everyone out. Killing any desire she might ever have for a real sexual
relationship. Yet now, when she was least prepared to deal with it, this arrogant,
wildly sexy man had pierced the veil and stirred up feelings she had no idea
she was even capable of, never mind how to deal with them.

Damn
it all, anyway. Just for once could things please go her way?

She
studied the screen on her laptop. The notes she’d transferred from her study of
the case files stared back at her. There was nothing dressed up about the
facts. They were brutal. Gruesome, even, and very explicit. The deputies who’d
found the bodies had left nothing to the imagination. The pictures they
conjured were like something out of a torture chamber.

A
shiver skittered over her spine as she felt the ghost touch of those calloused
fingers probing her body, heard Kylie’s high-pitched little screams. Remembered
the terrible pain. Felt the tape ripped from her mouth and strange hands trying
to be gentle with her.

When
she’d seen Kylie’s body, she’d thrown her head back and screamed so long and
hard her throat ended up raw for days. She’d fought to get to her sister, but
other hands restrained her, voices tried to soothe her, and finally the sting
of a needle had plunged her into blackness.

Now,
with each case she examined, she relived it over and over again. Her stomach
convulsed, and once more, she felt like throwing up. She was going to need a lot
of hot tea and antacids before this was over.

The
idea of tea sounded good right now. Something to settle her nerves so she could
be objective about all this. Getting up from the table, she headed into the
kitchen.

But
even as she heated the water, she knew tea wasn’t the solution to what ailed
her. She wondered if she’d really be able to go through with this whole
project. If she had the stomach and the strength to push forward, searching
through all the mental rubble for the tiniest clue that would tell her who the
monster was.

Then
she realized there was no wavering on this
.
Armageddon had arrived for
her and she couldn’t run away any longer.

****

Cole
leaned back in the desk chair in his office and rubbed a hand over his face. It
was three in the morning, his eyes felt gritty and a dull ache had invaded the
back of his head.

Mickey
Garcia and Andi Lowell sat in two chairs facing him, looking just as weary as
he did. Murder scenes were never pleasant, but those involving children and
teenagers were the worst. Especially like the one they’d had to face tonight.

“This
town’s gonna be in an uproar come the morning,” Mickey commented for the second
time that night.

“Tell
me something I don’t know,” Cole said.

“Sheriff.”
Andi cleared her throat, a dry-scratchy sound indicative of fatigue. “Do you
think we’re equipped to handle something like what happened tonight?” Andi
asked. “And the fallout from it?”

Cole
fixed his tired eyes on her, his body tense. “Are you questioning my ability to
do the job, Deputy?”

“No,
sir.” She shook her head definitively. “I have all the respect in the world for
you. And Mickey and I are right there with you. I just don’t know how the rest
of the force will do.”

“They’ll
do what they have to.” Just what he needed. Deputies who had no confidence in
themselves or others to work this case the way they should. “We all will.”

Andi
shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

The
ringing of the phone on Cole’s desk interrupted her. His gut tightened as he
listened to the caller, gripping the pencil he was jotting notes with so hard
it snapped in his fingers. When he put the phone down and looked back at his
deputies they were staring at him, questions in their eyes.

“That
was Nita Sanchez. I asked her to call me when she finished the prelim autopsy.”

“What
did she say?” Mickey asked finally, clearly unnerved by the look on his boss’s
face.

“Leanne
Pritchard was raped multiple times. From what Nita says, it looks as if he
raped and sodomized her using some sort of device, possibly made of glass.…”

He
could tell from the looks on their faces, they got the message.

“Jesus.”
The word popped out of Mickey’s mouth.

“Holy
shit, boss.” Andi looked sick.

“There
are bruises on her thighs and in various places on her body. He also pulled out
clumps of her pubic hair by the roots.”

Andi
swallowed and clenched her jaw tight, no doubt to keep from vomiting. Mickey
looked green in the light of the desk lamp.

“Nita
swabbed for DNA, but she’s not hopeful. The guy apparently used a condom, and
possibly even wore latex gloves. But maybe we’ll get lucky.”

“We
took statements from the kids,” Andi told him. “How would you like us to
proceed from here?”

Again,
Cole dry-washed his face. He needed caffeine, badly.

“I
say we talk to the kids one on one. We can’t keep their parents out of it since
they’re all minors, so let’s try it in their homes.”

Mickey
hunched forward. “You know their folks will want to stop us.”

Cole
held up a hand. “I woke up the county attorney and requested a blanket warrant.
I’ll make sure you each get a copy. Grab a couple hours of sleep before you start
setting up your appointments. But do it fast before anyone has time to change
their story.”

Andi’s
eyebrows lifted to her hairline. “You think one of them may have done this?”

“No,
but someone may have seen something and not want to come forward for reasons of
their own. Don’t forget, they were having their party in a facility that’s
supposed to be locked at night. I want to know whose idea it was and how they
got through the gate. Anyone check the gate?”

“I…Sorry.”
A red flush crept up Andi’s face. “We didn’t even think to look.”

Cole
looked from one to the other. “My guess is this town is so used to people
breaking into the park at night no one even thinks twice if the gate is open.
Right?” When neither of them answered, he repeated his question. “I said, am I
right?”

“Yes,
Sheriff,” Mickey finally mumbled. “We’ll be a lot sharper from now on. You can
count on it. You have our word.”

Cole
rubbed his neck. “You’d think in three years I’d have realized how lax security
is at the park. Once the attendant closes the gate at night, no one bothers to
check anything.” He grunted. “Shit. You guys don’t need to apologize. I’m
probably one of my own worst liabilities. But you can bet starting tomorrow the
access won’t be quite so easy.”

“We’ll
get on the kids real early,” Andi told him. “And we won’t screw it up.”

After
his deputies left, Cole leaned back in his chair again. He needed to go home
and catch a couple hours of sleep. Feed the horses and his dog. Shower, put on
a fresh uniform. But he couldn’t get the image of Leanne’s body out of his
mind.