Protective Instincts (19 page)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Drew's disguising skills worked wonders. They'd created a new man. Sam in camouflage fatigues would have fooled anyone, especially after the clippers had nearly shaved his head.

"Damn, brother, where did you get these rough duds?" Sam looked tough enough to worry anyone who didn't know him.

"Raided my closet." Drew shrugged. "How do you suppose the women are coming in the bathroom?"

"I don't know. I don't trust our little sister, do you?"

"Not in a million years." Drew handed Sam aviator sunglasses. "I can't wait to see her face when she sees what I've done to Mr. Conservative. Something tells me Sean will be shocked, too. I'll warn the folks.

"Contact Sean and his mother and make sure they don't come back from Hawaii to the mainland until I call them. This scary situation could drag on past their planned stay. Maybe you could go ahead and book them somewhere else under assumed names. You'll need to tell Adrienne why she has to keep Sean away. She'll keep her baby from this continent. I'll foot the bill."

Sam had adopted that feet apart, arms crossed, militant pose to go with the outfit. "You'll do, big brother, you'll do."

* * * *

"There's no way I'll wear this in public!"

Esther looked Brit up, then down. "You'll never be recognized as a school teacher. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yeah, but – I look more like a street walker."

"You look fine. Maybe you can make extra money working evenings." Esther grinned. "No more stalling, go show the boys."

Brit's brows drew together in a scowl mean enough to melt paint from walls, the one she saved for her worst students. Esther had done a job worthy of an artist. If her folks saw this getup, she'd be grounded, even at thirty-three.

"All right, let's see what Drew has done to Sam."

Brit opened the door to the bedroom and stopped dead in her tracks, teetering on the boots with heels high enough to give her a nosebleed. The man beside Drew looked like he belonged on an Army recruiting poster, with his arms folded across his chest, molded by the fitted shirt. Camouflage pants were tucked into polished boots. If there was any hair, the cap hid it.

This man looked battle ready, like someone you wouldn't want to tangle with. His beautiful green eyes were covered by big sunglasses. Only his mouth was the same. He looked dangerous, younger and damned sexy. He also looked shocked. Brit watched Sam take in the full effect of Esther's work. He looked as stunned as she felt, beyond words stunned, actually.

Sam had nearly swallowed his tongue when the black-haired siren walked from the bathroom. The woman with Esther looked like she could sell sex at a high price. Her hair was barely long enough to hide her ears. Porcelain skin made her look like a china doll. Her red lips were full. He'd never seen her eyelashes so dark and lush or her cheekbones so contoured.

His gaze glued to the shocking cleavage of her impressive chest. The white, satiny blouse barely covered the essentials, but exposed a flesh-colored, lace bra. Her short, black leather, skirt covered less. Black hose saved her from exposing her panties; at least he hoped she wore panties. High-heeled black boots completed the hooker look.
Holy Mother of God.

The room was so silent Sam could hear his harsh breathing.

She slowly donned the sunglasses that were, indeed, slutty and perfect. Even her own mother wouldn't recognize her in this getup. Now they could move around without detection. Sam knew he looked mean enough to get answers to his questions. He wasn't sure how her outfit would help, but the memory of it would keep him awake nights in years to come.

"Well?" Brit broke the silence.

Sam couldn't speak. He wanted to grab Brit and kiss her mindless. He wanted to get her out of those clothes. He wanted to take her standing against the wall.

They had an audience and work to do.

* * * *

"Why the Hell hasn't the bitch come home, yet?" Douglas was tired of watching the house. He'd had to escape the dufus cops who were taking him to the hospital. The assholes had been so easy to lure into the men's room with his sick act. Didn't they ever read or watch the movies? They were too stupid to live, but he wasn't into killing without a contract. He didn't kill for free. One hard slam against a wall for the first one and a slam against a stall door had worked for the second.

Over by the driveway two houses down, he spotted the nondescript police stakeout car. When a car parks a long time and no one gets out, it's obviously a plant. He could teach the plainclothes cops a thing or two about watching a house. Twice he'd sneaked over and checked things in her yard. The teacher had her stupid dog with her, so no barking warned anyone.

Bringing overalls and gardening tools had been a stroke of genius. No one would expect the escaped prisoner to look like a yardman. The five o'clock shadow would soon become a healthy beard. He hadn't been made yet and he didn't expect to be.

A car pulled into the teacher's driveway. Silver Lexus, maybe a year old. Sign on the door says Brooks Real Estate.

What's going on here? Did I scare her away? She gonna sell out?
She had left her Mustang in the garage and her answering machine message hadn't even changed.

A young looking man wearing a navy suit and yellow tie exited the driver's side and rushed to open the passenger door. A black haired woman climbed out, exposing a great deal of leg above the black high-heeled boots. He'd never mistake her for a real estate agent. She carried one of those huge bags some women liked. God only knew what she kept in it.

"Ma'am, this house was just put on the market yesterday" The suit reached in the back of the car and pulled out an expensive looking brief case. "We haven't had time to put up a FOR SALE sign."

Douglas had chosen a good spot to park his van. He could hear them with the sound amplification device from Cousin Vince.

"Well, let's see it, then, shall we?" She slung the bag higher on her shoulder and took his arm, like he was some kind of gentleman escorting her. "Does it have modern bathrooms and kitchen?" she asked.

"Not exactly, but you're gonna love the claw foot bath tub."

It was all Douglas could do to stay out of sight. The man reached into his pocket and brought out a key attached to a large disk.
She's smiling at the twerp like she's sending him a message. Bet he wants to get into her panties. Like to get into her panties, myself. Bet she wouldn't charge me.

Douglas wanted to go closer to the house, maybe peek in the windows, but he couldn't take the chance. Damn, he'd give anything to know where the teacher was. She hadn't moved her stuff, so she'd need to come back. He'd had feelers out, but no one had seen her recently.
What if I ring the doorbell and act like a neighbor come to visit? I could … Maybe not. Seems like the dark haired broad would've left by now, if she didn't like the house. What if she
likes it and buys it?

What if the teacher never comes back? Shit! Shit! Shit! She's gotta come back! Never missed a hit yet, no matter how long it took. A contract's a matter of honor.
Never had to try more than once, must be slipping.

Now what? A Jeep pulled in beside the agent's car. The man who got out wore camouflage clothes and sunglasses. He had a hard edge about him, Douglas didn't like. Who the Hell was he, some relative or someone else wanting to buy the house? Shit! He'd have to sneak in and mess it up, so no one would want to buy it. This should have been a simple, easy money job.

The badass looking guy looked like he was studying the house and the neighborhood.
Thoughtful of the neighbors to be out of town this week.

The new guy paused, like was studying the stakeout car. He turned back to the house when the screen door slammed and the black haired babe raced toward him.

Oh, yes! She landed on him like an octopus, arms and legs around the bad military dude. Rated XXX kiss in front of God and everybody.
The neighbors will love this. Husband, boyfriend, lover more likely, or sugar daddy. Now he carries her up the steps, still wrapped around him. Time to kick out the panty-waste salesman. Bet he's disappointed.

Douglas waited, bored but too curious about what was happening at the teacher's house to take the time to pee. At least he was out of stinking prison and he planned to stay out.

Once he was done with the teacher, maybe he'd look up the blonde friend, the other teacher. She'd make a good playmate. Since she wouldn't know who he was, he could have a good laugh. He could screw her after he'd killed her best friend.

Then he'd leave the country and leave her wanting. Or he could take her with him. Irony? Good word for a man with barely a high school education.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Brit had left her house just a weekend ago, but she felt she had been away a lifetime.

She had enjoyed turning the rundown house she had bought cheap into the homey house she had loved so much, before a killer invaded it. How had so much changed in only weeks?

Each time she passed a mirror she felt disoriented, like she lived in someone else's body.

"So now what?" Brit turned to ask Sam, who sat down beside her on couch. She shifted her weight and moved closer. The house was different without her dog.

"So, now we confer with detective Peters."

"He's been videotaping from every window. I've never paid much attention to my neighbors' yards. Are you sure it's legal to video tape people around here?"

"Drew said Peters is the best surveillance agent in the bureau. He'll know what's legal." Sam, dear man, rubbed her hand. "Peters and I'll view the tapes and still photos with Drew, to see if we notice anything out of the ordinary. No one'll see tapes of your neighbors, but one might be in danger. Your attacker must be watching this house or having someone watch it. We need to figure out what he's doing. We might save a life."

Brit watched Sam's large hand move over hers in a comforting gesture. She turned her palm up and entwined their fingers. She looked up at him, "But can you use what you find? I couldn't stand it if he got off on a technicality."

"Sweetheart, we're going to recapture him. He's an escaped prisoner and the cops caught him dead to rights at the assault point." She snuggled into his embrace. "Detective Peters'd better hurry. I can't wait to get you back to the hotel." When Sam ran his fingers through her black hair, she felt the same old tingle intensify with each touch.

"I've been wondering how it would feel to make love to you in this new persona." He gently touched his lips to hers.

She was ready to try out their new personalities. He kissed her again. His lips and body felt the same, but his face looked harder, leaner. She missed his hair.

"Okay, you two lovebirds." The voice of detective Peters broke the spell Sam's chaste kisses wove around them. "I've set up cameras to watch the outside. I can see the police stakeout car watching your house. Those guys would be lucky to find their backsides with both hands. They were so easy to make, I'm sure our man has seen them if he's here."

"Oh, he's here." Sam's instincts were vague, different from when Brit was under attack, but there. Now he wished he actually had physic abilities. Maybe they should call in a real physic, if there was such a person.

Peters set up a tiny camera pointing at the front door and the front room. "I'd like to watch that odd van parked across the street. It seems out of place."

"How many of those cameras did you bring in?" Sam looked at the devices.

"I brought four in my brief case and the lady here brought in six." He smiled. "I have two more, one for the kitchen and one for this room. The only places without cameras will be the closets and bathrooms. Drew and I thought you'd like some privacy there. By the time our man could get in those places, we'd have spotted him on at least one of the other cameras."

He moved toward the kitchen, leaving Brit and Sam alone again. "We'll catch this bastard and put him away, I promise."

"I know, Sam, I know." Brit moved to the answering machine to check the messages. Two were from fellow teachers, one from the Youth Foundation pickup caller. Two more were from her not-so-secret stalker.

Sam swore softly. "He's here somewhere watching. We have men to scope out the neighborhood for surveillance equipment. He'd hardly miss a chance to keep an eye on this house. Just wait 'til he learns you won't be coming back."

Brit wandered to the kitchen to check her refrigerator for spoiled food. She emptied milk and several leftover containers. There was no evidence her food had been tampered with, but she'd take no more chances. Sam came into the kitchen. While the men rechecked Sam's sensors and alarms, she drifted back to her answering machine. Time for a new message.

"You've reached Brit Roberts' answering machine. I'm taking an extended vacation and will be relocating. All messages will be forwarded so I can get back to you. Thank you."

"That should send him into a frenzy." Brit whirled around when the two men joined her. Detective Peters was packing his tools back into his briefcase. "We'll arrange for a U-Haul truck to move just enough empty boxes to make it look like you're moving out, then in. That should bring him out of hiding."

Brit moved quickly to her bedroom to grab a few things she could stuff into the oversized bag she'd brought with her. The cameras she had smuggled inside it had left plenty of room. She would be back with her new roommates, Sam and Drew's sister Esther. Sam and Drew had refused to let her stay here alone while they did their investigations and she hadn't really wanted to. Back in the front room, she asked. "Ready, guys?"

With an exaggerated wiggle and a grin, she moved to the front door. "Enter, stage left, hot mama!"

* * * *

Douglas was tired of hiding. He'd watched the front door for the woman and the two men to leave. Ahhh, here they come.

The real estate pretty boy must have a real southern lady for a mother, not like my bitch of a mother. Look how nice and polite he is, working hard for that sale. How sweet, holding the door for the woman and the tough guy. I can hear them again.

"Honey Bear, I just love the house. It's so cute. You wouldn't have to travel far and there's a room for your sister to stay with us until she gets on her feet." The woman's voice was as sexy as she was. She'd get her way a lot, the sex kitten.

Douglas could imagine having her rub against him like that. He'd pull her closer, maybe grab her butt. She didn't seem like she'd object to a little public groping. He'd take her back inside and grab other body parts. Maybe he wouldn't even take her clothes off. He'd just push aside anything in the way and shove it to her. Maybe doggy style.

Yeah, she looked hotter than a bitch in heat. She owed him for the days in the cell with no one for company but horny convicts and for taking over the teacher's house. Women like her were made to take care of men.

"It's okay," tough guy said. "We'll talk about it, later, baby." He led her around to the passenger side of the Jeep and opened the door. "Let's get a bite of lunch. Gotta get back to work." He picked her up and put her in the seat.

Douglas had been so busy watching the lovebirds he'd missed the Lexus guy. It would soon be time to check the cameras he'd hidden when he'd worked outside earlier.

* * * *

The hotel room was cool and crowded. "So, how'd everything go?" Drew wasted no time.

"We made the local stakeout car too easily." Detective Peters shook his head. "Video cameras are well placed and fed into the computers."

Brit sat on the sofa and removed her torturous hooker boots. "I know he was around somewhere. I felt like he was watching us."

"He probably was," Drew nodded.

"He was there," Sam frowned. "I felt him, too. Probably in, or near, the beat up van across the street."

"So?" Brit clasped her hands in her lap. "What do we do next?"

"Agent Peters will take you there in a couple of days. Tomorrow a truck will pull up at your house. Our men will take in boxes to assemble inside, then lug them back to the truck like they're full. We'll take some heavy pieces to make it seem you are really moving out."

Agent Peters cleared his throat. "A day or two later, we'll move your Mustang to a storage place. That should convince anyone watching that you aren't coming back."

"Oh," Brit sighed. "It feels so strange. I'll be there, but I won't be there. And I can't take Monster home with me."

Sam walked over to the sofa and sat beside her. He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. "Esther will be there during the day and I'll be there, too, at night. I'll take care of you, Teach. Mama will take care of the monster baby."

"I know. What about some food? This undercover work makes a body hungry," Brit announced.

* * * *

Three hours later, pizza boxes lay stacked up on a table beside the door of the bridal suite. Detective Peters and Drew viewed surveillance film on a computer monitor. Occasionally Brit would hear one of the men call excitedly to the other and she'd rush to see what was so important. So far, she had seen nothing that told her anything. She wished Sam and Esther would get back with the much needed ice cream. Nothing like a powwow of detectives and security people to put a downer on a girl's mood.

Earlier she had muttered to Sam, "Isn't it a little crowded for a bridal suite?"

"Yeah, I hadn't expected everyone to move in with us." Sam put his arms around her. For seconds she forgot about their company.

"Maybe we need to book our own little love nest."

Even thirty minutes later, she felt the delicious tingle in her lower belly. Closing her eyes, she blotted out the others in the room, pretending Sam still held her. She drifted into a dream world. She needed the warmth Sam's body always gave her. The detectives in the room could protect her.

Drew's excited voice broke through her semiconscious state.

"Come look at this, I think I've made our man."

Wide-awake, she crossed the room in a flash.

Drew pointed to a blow-up of a scene on his monitor. The shabbily dressed figure beside the pointer stepped from the old van. With his shaggy beard, he looked more like a homeless person than a repairman. The company name on the van had faded.

Brit watched the man shuffle toward the mailbox. Why would he be interested in her neighbor's mail? "Drew," Brit touched the TV monitor with a fingernail, "my neighbors are out of town for this whole month. Their mail is being held at the post office."

"Look," Drew nearly toppled his chair. "He's taking out a box. Bet he has his own surveillance equipment in the box."

Drew tried to zoom in on the box, but was outfoxed when the man turned his back on the camera.

"Let's go nail the bastard," Brit started toward her boots. "What are we waiting for?"

"Nail whom for what?" Sam entered, carrying a bag. Brit hadn't heard him come back in. She watched him put the large bag on the coffee table and calmly walk over to Drew and Detective Peters. "What bastard does the woman want to nail this time?"

"Yeah?" Esther took the contents from the bag and spread them on the low table. She motioned for Brit to join her. "Whom are we nailing?"

Calmed by their joking manner, Brit pointed to the men and explained. "Drew and Detective Peters think they spotted Drake watching my house. I was all ready to go for him."

"What if he's really just someone taking advantage of an empty house, maybe a homeless person? That man doesn't look any more like your attacker did, than we look like ourselves. What if that box is something illegal and we mess up a police bust?"

Detective Peters muttered. "These local cops wouldn't need help messing up a bust." He had come to the coffee table to join Brit and Esther. He reached for an ice cream carton and read the label. "Rocky Road, my favorite."

"Here." Esther handed him a plastic bowl and a large spoon. "Go for it, Pete."

Sam and Drew joined the ice cream crowd. "Here." Sam handed Brit a stack of paper. "Prints of enlargements of some the images Drew found on the tapes." Sam reached for a bowl, but Brit handed him one full of chocolate chip ice cream. He grinned at her over the bowl as he took it. "What if I had wanted Rocky Road?"

"I'll give you some of my Rocky Road," her voice was husky. "If you're a good boy."

Sam gazed into her eyes, warming her. "We could eat it in the bedroom and leave this room to the others."

"We could, at that."

"Okay, knock it off, you two," Esther interrupted their exchange.

"There are no children present, but young Pete's blushing up a storm. He'd never be able to concentrate, knowing what you're up to just a room away. Drew and I might enjoy watching through the keyhole. We haven't done that in years."

"You've made your point, Sis," Sam frowned, then grinned. "Jealous, aren't you. You could never stand to be left out of the fun." He pulled Brit toward Esther and hugged her.

"We'll find you a honey, won't we, Drew?"

"I've tried." Drew mussed Esther's hair. "She just keeps running them off with her temper."

"Knock it off, you two clowns." Esther growled. "I'm just waiting for the right one to come along."

Drew joined the group hug. This crew reminded Brit of her family. What would her brothers think if they could be in this room with all the technology? They'd love it, but she'd be sent away. At least Sam knew better than to try.

When she separated from the group hug, she saw Detective Peters move back to his chair at the computer terminal. He sipped his coffee like he was thinking between sips.

"Let's eat so we can get back to work, since we can't play." Brit shoved Sam's bowl at him. "Bunch of party poopers."

Legal pads filled with lists moved from one observer to the other. Everyone agreed the man in most of the frames didn't belong where he was. The truck didn't belong, either.

The man had made several trips from the truck, one to the mailbox, one to a shed near the house, and one to a hedge by the street in front of the house. Brit had tried to recognize him when Peters would freeze a frame, but the disguise, if he wore one, was good. Even the enlarged photos weren't any better. He seemed to know just when to turn from a camera angle. He might not be Brit's attacker, but he was up to something.

* * * *

Douglas moved from the van to the hedge. He checked the electronic spying equipment. Gadgets and inventing had been hobbies of his since childhood. People had no idea how many gadgets he'd made. Even the guys who hired him thought he was just a killer. Time to leave another message for the teacher.

Watching all around him, he drove the van past the cop car. It was time for the shift change. By the time he got back, the new jerks would be napping like the rest always did.

He found a pay phone he hadn't used before. The booth faced a park and a gas station.