Profile of Retribution: FBI Profiler Romantic Suspense (Profile Series #3) (2 page)

It was more than the physical attraction. Bryan was smart and made her laugh. And she found herself looking forward to seeing him each morning. But she was gun-shy of getting involved in the same kind of doomed relationship she’d had with Cameron Chase. Cam had been her best friend for years when she decided to make it more, and she slept with him when her feelings for his brother, Brody, were unresolved. She’d hurt Cam deeply when she let her emotions get out-of-hand, and rushed to Brody’s side after his surgery. She’d made a fool of herself. Worse than that, she’d lost Cam, and alienated both Brody and Carly. She felt like such an idiot. So getting involved with Brody and Cam’s best friend was
not
an option. She’d learned from her mistake. Hadn’t she?

“I’m sorry, Bryan. Lord knows I’m attracted to you. But the two of us can’t happen.” She blinked the moisture from her eyes and slid out of the booth, grabbed the coffee pot, and rushed toward the kitchen.

Mollie had reached the kitchen door when she heard a china mug crash to the floor along with the high-pitched, startled squeals of a couple of customers. Scanning the dining area, she noticed all eyes were focused on a large man in a red flannel shirt, who was dabbing a napkin at a pool of coffee on a small table where a blond woman sat near a window. Reaching inside a kitchen closet, she pulled a clean towel from a shelf, grabbed a broom and dustpan, and headed for the table. The man who’d been mopping up the coffee, was now gripping the back of the woman’s neck, forcing her to look at him, with his face inches from hers. His expression hostile, he whispered something, threw a soiled napkin at her and marched out of the café.

As Mollie drew closer, she realized the blond-haired woman was Tisha Lucas. But before she could reach the table, Tisha had fled from the restaurant.

Chapter Four

Tisha

Tisha Lucas couldn’t sleep. So what else was new? That devil, insomnia, had her in its grips and wouldn’t let go. It was five o’clock, and soon Bradley would roll out of bed and hit the shower like he did every morning of their marriage. Once her husband’s routines had been comforting, now they were just annoying. She rolled over to watch him sleep. Despite the graying of his hair and the fine lines around his eyes, he looked childlike as he slept. There was a time when the urge to run her fingers along the jaw line of his unshaven face was so tantalizing she’d been unable to resist. Once they had a hard time keeping their hands off each other, and she looked forward to seduction and stolen moments alone.

On her back, she stared at the ceiling and wondered what she’d do with her day. At one point, she’d considered getting a part-time job just to get out of the house, but who would hire her—the mother of monsters? Tisha sighed deeply as she remembered it was her housekeeper’s day off. At least she wouldn’t have the girl hovering over her, asking her every five minutes what she needed. Hell, anyone with half a brain would know what she needed. She needed her boys back like they were as children, and her marriage happy again.

There was a good chance she’d not interact with another human being until Bradley came home from work. Not that he was a brilliant conversationalist, especially since their world imploded when their sons died. Tisha was a prisoner in her own home and she was sick of it. Too many days ambling about her beautiful house and grounds had her bored to tears.

Tisha wanted her friends back, as two-faced, unsupportive, selfish and materialistic as they were. She’d even take a frenemy or two, just to keep life interesting. Anything was better than the endless days of loneliness and unholy boredom when her only ally was a bottle of wine.

Slipping out of bed, careful not to wake Bradley, Tisha got into the shower and warmed the water until it steamed. Half of her wished Bradley would hear the water and join her, the other half hoped he wouldn’t. Standing directly under the spray, she watched the water run rivulets down her body until they plopped on the tile beneath her feet.

As Tisha dressed in a knit top and cotton skirt, she made a decision. She’d be damned if she’d continue being a prisoner in her own house. Slipping on her shoes, she snatched her purse off the vanity and headed toward the garage.

Powering down every window of her sleek BMW X-5 SUV, she ignored the chill of the morning air, and laughed as the wind whipped her hair about her face. It was if she were a teenager again, racing down a country road in the brand-new Mustang convertible her daddy bought her for her sixteenth birthday. She turned up the volume as an old Tina Turner song played on the radio. Remembering the words, she sang along.

Soon she reached Morel’s city limits. On Main Street, she saw that the same colorful shops and restaurants still lined the street. Her favorite women’s apparel store, Bonnie’s Boutique, displayed a bright yellow sale sign that lured Tisha to angle her car into a parking space.

Holy mother, it felt good to be out of the house. A sense of freedom rushed through her veins as she got out of her car. She’d purposely parked a couple of blocks from the café so she could stretch her legs and peek in shop windows along the way. The morning sunlight danced across the street and sidewalk. It was a new day. Just maybe, if she were lucky, this would be a good one. Tisha Lucas was way overdue.

She was a block from Bonnie’s Boutique when the delicious aromas of Mollie’s Cafe assailed her senses, the smell of bacon frying, the hint of dark roasted coffee, and best of all, the mouth-watering scent of Mollie’s rich chocolate-chocolate-chip muffins hot from the oven wafted in the air. Tisha made a beeline for the café.

The place was crowded, which she should have expected for this time of morning. People were getting a solid breakfast before starting their busy work days. It was the first time she’d eaten out alone in her life, and she was a little anxious and excited at the same time. A friendly, young waitress directed her to a small table near the window and poured her a cup of hot coffee. After handing her a menu, the girl disappeared to the back of the café, presumably to the kitchen. Tisha sipped the coffee and nearly purred. Mollie’s coffee tasted as delicious as her muffins. She angled her view outside and watched a young girl walking a fluffy white puppy as she window-shopped across the street. Farther down, a couple entered an attorney’s. She hoped their visit was for happy reasons. She’d picked up her menu, when she noticed a couple of men staring at her from the lunch counter. Tisha blushed, and returned to her menu. With naturally blond hair and eyes more gray than blue, she was an attractive woman who should be used to men admiring her. Actually, it was refreshing, considering she was married to a man who barely noticed her existence. It had been a long, long time since Bradley looked at her with desire.

Her waitress returned and Tisha ordered a veggie and cheese omelet, a muffin, and a glass of apple juice. As the waitress left for the kitchen, she noticed a group of three women sliding into the booth next to her. None of them looked familiar so she returned her attention to the window. Although it was an awkward feeling sitting alone at her table, it was good to be out of the house. Lately, she’d felt more a prisoner of her home than a resident and she’d grown tired of being alone. Listening to the conversation of the three women in the booth, she smiled, and thought of the days she and her ex-friends had met for lunch to share the latest gossip and describe new purses or shoes they’d purchased.

Out the window, Tisha watched the young couple she’d seen earlier emerge from the attorney’s office. They walked until they came to a bench, where they sat down and embraced. Tisha thought of the days when she and Bradley couldn’t stay away from each other. Those days seemed long ago.

She overhead the women talking in the booth near her table.

“Isn’t that Tisha Lucas?”

“Who’s Tisha Lucas?”

“Cherry, sometimes I think you live under a rock. Do you not watch the news or read the paper?”

“Norma Mae Cunningham, you leave Cherry alone.
I
know who you’re talking about.”

Tisha winced, as the woman leaned out of the booth so she could get a better look.

“It looks like her. Can’t be sure. Haven’t seen her out in public in a coon’s age.”

“If that’s the Lucas woman, she’s got a lot of nerve showing up around here after what her sons did. How many women did they butcher anyway?”

Determined to ignore them, Tisha sipped her coffee. Closing her eyes, she drew in a slow, calming breath.

Much to her dismay, the women’s conversation continued. “Get ready. Wherever those Lucas people go, the press aren’t far behind. One time I saw a Crime Scene Network reporter chase them to their car trying to get a scoop. I’ll bet you five bucks the reporters will swarm in here like wasps soon. So much for a quiet breakfast.”

Tisha gritted her teeth, breathing a sigh of relief when the waitress returned to refill her coffee cup. The girl placed a chilled glass of apple juice along with a warm muffin on her table.

A hulk of a man, wearing a red flannel shirt with faded jeans, eased up from his place at the counter and ambled down the row of tables. Tisha glanced out the window, renewing her interest in whatever was going on outside the restaurant, determined to ignore the women in the booth. She could do this. Yes, their words hurt, but she could be much stronger than Bradley thought she was. She had every right to be here—she couldn’t stay a prisoner in her own home forever.

Tisha had lifted the coffee cup to her mouth, when something slammed hard against her shoulder, sending the coffee cup flying across the table and crashing to the floor, spewing hot coffee in its wake. The man she’d seen in the red flannel shirt hovered over her, murmuring he was sorry. Retrieving a clean, dry napkin from another table, he dabbed at the spilled coffee with it, as she tried to dry her blouse. Suddenly, he grabbed her, his large fingers pressed painfully into the sides of her neck. He leaned close to her ear and said, “Monster-making bitch. Can’t believe you can show your face in public.” He shot her a look of disgust and then threw the soaked napkin at her, before he stomped out of the restaurant.

Tisha looked around. Everyone in the restaurant was staring at her. Did they hear what he said? Shaken, she pulled her wallet out of her purse and set a twenty dollar bill on the table. Tisha fought the nausea climbing up her throat and prayed no one saw how badly her hands were shaking as she got to her feet and bolted from the cafe.

Chapter Five

Gabe

Gabe Chase raced Godiva, their chocolate lab, from the mailbox at the end of the drive to the back door of the main house. Once they reached the house, he ruffled the dog’s fur affectionately before he opened the back door. He’d loved Godiva since he and Kaitlyn found her abandoned in a cardboard box in the middle of a highway. The thought that anyone had thrown her away like garbage, fully intending she be hit by a vehicle, still had him fuming.

Inside, Kaitlyn stood near the stove cooking scrambled eggs and bacon. “Hey, you two are out of breath. What makes me think you raced from the mailbox? Who won?” Godiva rubbed against her legs, inspiring Kaitlyn to bend down to pet her. “Sorry, Gabe, Godiva says she beat you.”

Gabe laughed as he washed his hands in the kitchen sink. “Something smells good.”

“Think so?”

He dried his hands, moved behind her, and wrapped his arms around her. “Yes, I think so.” He sniffed her neck, making her giggle. Moving his arms around her waist, he pulled her against him. “That’s what I thought. It’s the irresistible scent of a hot blond who may end up back in bed with the guy who loves her.”

“Now that’s an interesting idea.”

“I’m full of them,” Gabe joked as he poured two cups of coffee and placed them on the table. Then he retrieved two slices of toast from the toaster. Kaitlyn filled their plates and sat down across from him. She slipped a piece of bacon to Godiva, and then patted her lovingly on the head.

“I seem to remember your telling me that table scraps weren’t good for Godiva.”

Kaitlyn’s mouth twitched with amusement. “And that’s why I
never
feed Godiva from the table.”

Gabe grinned as he spread strawberry jam on his toast. He loved their gentle bantering. With each day, he became more convinced that Kaitlyn was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. The sooner he could get her to the altar the better. If he could just get her to set a date.

“Where’s Cam? It’s not like him to skip breakfast,” Kaitlyn asked.

“I think he got a call. He tore out of here at the break of dawn. Let’s hope it’s not a homicide.”

“Never a dull moment living with all you alpha males in law enforcement. Which reminds me of something I want to ask you.”

“Ask away.”

“I want to hire you.”

Gabe was caught off-guard. “Hire me? Why do you need a private investigator?”

“Do you remember my friend Margaret Bennett?”

“Isn’t she the shrink who has an office in my building?”

Kaitlyn rolled her eyes. “Gabe, I’ve told you before, she isn’t a shrink.”

“Then what is she?”

“Margaret is licensed as a mental health counselor.”

Gabe shoveled a fork full of eggs into his mouth. “So what does your friend, Margaret, the mental health counselor, have to do with you needing a private investigator?”

“Margaret asked for my help to start a support group for the Families of the Murdered, also known as FOM. We’d hold monthly meetings at the Baptist Church on Elm Street.”