Rising Heat (85 page)

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Authors: Helen Grey

Tags: #hot guys, #dangerous past, #forbidden love, #sexy secrets, #bad boy, #steamy sex, #biker romance

BOOK: Rising Heat
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I couldn’t live like that.

Hawk knew I couldn’t live like that.

Nobody could live like that!

And so we headed back into town, stopping by his office before we headed to the police station. By the time we got there the Quilts R Us shop was open. We stepped inside, and once again the tinkle of the bell over the door announced our presence. A head popped up from behind the counter. Zach.

“How’s your mother this morning?” I asked as I headed for the doorway to the stairs.

“She’s just out running some errands.” He glanced between Hawk and me. “She’ll be back in a little while. You want to buy something?” He glanced at Hawk and swallowed. “Don’t suppose you do.”

“Maybe later,” I said, then waved a brief goodbye and followed Hawk upstairs. I didn’t remark on the fact that Hawk didn’t pay much attention to the store owner or her son downstairs. None of my business. They shared a building and that was it.

We didn’t linger at his office. I headed for the window to grab my cell phone and charger cord while he moved to the desk and retrieved my laptop. He glanced around, looking for anything else that belonged to me, and then gestured toward the door.

“Are you sure about this, Tracy?”

Not really, I thought, but I wasn’t going to tell him I was having second thoughts. Once again, I had to remind myself that I couldn’t stay in hiding forever. “Let’s just go see if the police have someone available that can park out in front of my driveway for a while. Do you want to stay at the house with me for a while?”

I was disappointed when he shook his head.

“I’m going to see if I can talk with that FBI profiler, if he’s still in town. Maybe if I go alone, I can gather or even share some information, little of it that we have.”

“Won’t Cutter be upset with you for going behind his back?”

“I don’t give a damn,” he said. “If they’re not willing to share information with me, I’ll have to find my own answers, won’t I?”

We said nothing more as we quickly headed back downstairs. I didn’t see Zach anywhere, but heard noises coming from the storeroom. We each took our separate vehicles.

I followed Hawk’s Jeep to the police station. When we got inside, Officer Toby was once again at the front desk. He didn’t even wait for either of us to say anything, but gestured over his shoulder with his thumb.

Without further ado, Hawk stepped toward the swinging gate, opened it, gestured for me to precede him, and then followed. When I appeared in the doorway to Cutter and Westin’s office, they both looked up from their desks, obviously surprised to see me.

“Where’ve you been? We’ve been looking for you.”

“Why? Has something happened? New developments? Did you find the guy?” The questions flew out of my mouth at lightning speed.

“No,” Cutter said. “But we weren’t sure if you were still up at Hawk’s cabin or if you had made other arrangements. You
will
keep us apprised if that’s the case, won’t you? We can’t try to protect you if we don’t know where you are.”

I stared at Detective Cutter, frowning at the gentle scolding he was giving me. “And a fine job you’re doing of it too.”

“Miss Whitcomb, we couldn’t contact you on your phone. We assumed you were up at Hawk’s cabin, but we haven’t heard from Hawk since early yesterday afternoon.” He said that with a disapproving expression as he glanced at Hawk.

“She got another message last evening,” Hawk said.

“How?” Westin asked. “I thought you didn’t have any service at your cabin.”

“I don’t,” Hawk said shortly. “We came back into town for a while yesterday. She was checking her e-mails last evening before we went back. The guy made contact through her website query form.”

Westin looked from me to Hawk and then back again. I could just see the wheels turning in his head. While I didn’t care what he thought, I felt myself shifting uncomfortably beneath his gaze.

“What did it say?”

“He said that I couldn’t hide from him,” I replied. I tried to stand straighter and lifted my chin. “And I’m not going to. Not anymore. I’m not going to stay in hiding forever. I’m not going to allow him to do this to me.”

Westin lifted his eyebrows. “What are you planning to do, Miss Whitcomb?”

“I’m planning to go home, at least for the day, and get some work done, feel as if some semblance of my life still belongs to me.”

“We don’t recommend that,” Cutter said, glancing from his partner to Hawk, and then to me. “You’re putting yourself at great risk.”

“And it just might be the way to catch him,” Hawk interjected. He glanced at Cutter and then at Westin. “Can you spare a patrol car, or least have a couple of your guys take turns, parked at the edge of her driveway?”

Westin frowned and made a noise, then glanced at Cutter. I could tell he wanted to say no. “Aren’t you public servants?” I asked. “Isn’t it your job to protect and serve?”

Both opened their mouths as if to protest my challenge, but I lifted my hand. “Look, I’m not trying to be difficult. I’m not trying to be a bitch. But I need to go home, if just for a little while. Can’t you spare anyone for a few hours today? I can’t stay in hiding. I can’t allow him to do this to me!”

Cutter glanced at his partner and then finally nodded before turning to me. “Only for today,” he said. “We’ll have a couple of officers take turns watching your house. But only until dusk. Is that understood?” He glanced at Hawk. “You’ll have to find her a safe place to stay for the night.”

I nodded. “Thank you.” I was amazed by how relieved I felt. Although I was still afraid to be at my house, I knew that I had to. I had to try. I had to try to do some work, to make myself go back to my house. If I didn’t, I feared I never would. Maybe that’s what the killer wanted. To drive me from my home. The bastard.

“Are you going over there now?” Westin asked.

I nodded.

“We’ll have someone over there within thirty minutes.”

I offered a wan smile. “Thank you, detectives. It means a lot.”

“Don’t allow yourself to be lulled into a sense of security,” Cutter warned. “As we said, if this guy wants to get to you, he will. You keep a sharp eye.” He glanced at Hawk. “You going to be there too?”

He shook his head. “Not until later on. I’ll pick her up and take her someplace before it gets dark. I have a few matters to take care of.”

Westin stared at him a moment and then shrugged. He reached into his pocket and retrieved a business card. “This is my direct number,” he said, extending the card. “You call if you see or notice anything, you got it? Even if the squad car is parked at your driveway, you call if you notice anything. Understand?”

I did, and nodded while I took the card and slid it into my pocket. For the first time, I felt like the guy gave a damn.

*

I would love to say I was relieved to be home again, but at the same time I was filled with trepidation as I walked into my house. I shut and dead-bolted the door before stepping to the living room window to watch Hawk pull away in his Jeep. Before the dust of his passing even settled on the driveway, I saw a police cruiser pull up to the end of the driveway and park there.

Hawk had some business to take care of. I wasn’t exactly sure what, but I tried to comfort myself with the presence of the police officer. No one would come onto my property without the cop seeing him. Hawk had told me that once every thirty minutes, the officer would leave the patrol car and walk along the perimeter of my yard to make sure that he didn’t see signs of anyone’s presence.

I decided that standing here at the window staring outside was defeating the purpose of me coming home. It was good to be back in my house. The smell, the ambience, surrounded by my things. And, thank Lord, a shower! I would feel even better when I knew that the creep tormenting my life was caught.

I made myself a cup of coffee and then headed to my office. If I could get the doctor’s website finished before dusk, I would consider it a very good day. I tried to focus on that, to push away all thoughts of stalkers, killers, serial killers, death and blood.

It took an effort. The same worries wanted to swirl back and forth in my mind.

I reminded myself that the police officer out front would be there until about three o’clock, before another would take his place until it grew dark. Hawk would be back soon after.

So, pushing unpleasant thoughts from my mind, I literally forced myself to focus on website design, demanding my eyes and mind stay on the screen. It wasn’t easy, and I wasn’t sure if I was truly giving one-hundred percent to my task, but I did the best I could. In a matter of a few hours, I had completed the website and sent the link for the draft to the doctor’s e-mail address for review. Hopefully, there wouldn’t be too many requested changes. If I could just invoice for this job and the last one, I could at least count on some money coming into the bank. By the time I closed the e-mail, I felt that at least I had accomplished something positive. I wasn’t just sitting around waiting for something to happen.

I made the rounds, downstairs and upstairs, checking for signs of anything moving out there, but it was quiet and still. I wandered into the kitchen to make more coffee. Maybe I would venture down to the end of the driveway, check my mail, and offer the police officer a thermos of fresh coffee. I decided that would be a good idea.

I walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table while it brewed, the sound of the machine gurgling lulling me into a sense of comfort. As soon as the fresh pot was done, I poured most of it into a thermos. I was feeling better than I had in days, hopeful for the first time that maybe, just maybe, everything would work out okay.

I headed outside, not forgetting to lock the door behind me. I wasn’t going to risk leaving the house without locking it ever again. I headed down the driveway. Dusk was just beginning to settle in the east. Hawk should be arriving soon. I smiled at that thought.

The front half of the police cruiser was half shadowed now by the trees lining the driveway. I was still smiling as I approached the driver’s side door. I couldn’t see inside, but moved around the hood of the car, which made soft ticking noises like the engine was cooling down. He must not have been here very long. Those shadows danced on the windshield as I walked around it.

I moved to the driver’s side door and peered inside, but the deepening shadows prevented me from seeing his face. The officer’s head was leaning back against the seat like he was resting. Was he asleep? I felt a rush of anger. I tapped on the window with the thermos. He didn’t move.

My heart began to thud in my chest while hair raised on the back of my neck.

Why wasn’t he moving?

I tapped again, harder this time, then looked around. No sign of any cars on the road. Silence surrounded me. Not even the sound of birds. I swallowed thickly. My hand began to shake.

Oh God.

I reached for the door. It was unlocked and I opened it, the hinges breaking the silence with a screech.

No.

Please no.

Please don’t let this be real.

But it was.

I stared in horror at the officer, whose throat had been slashed from ear to ear. Blood drenched his uniform, the dashboard, and the console to his right and the seat beneath him.

I screamed.

End of Part 3

To Be Continued in Part 4…

MY HEART’S DESIRE

H
ELEN
G
REY

PART 4

BOOK DESCRIPTION

This is Part 4 of “My Heart’s Desire” – a five part Bad Boy Romantic Suspense Series by Helen Grey.

 

After witnessing the horror in her driveway, Tracy panics and goes on the run. As her level of terror increases, the people she trusts and feels safe enough to turn to is reduced to an all-time low. She’s alone. Frightened. And in more danger than before.

Betrayed and uncertain, she makes the difficult decision to leave on her own. Taking every precaution, she makes a plan and follows the plan, for the first time feeling a moment of peace.

She shouldn’t have.

Because when you become a psychopath’s heart’s desire, you can never get away from him.

 

This book is intended for a mature audience, 18+ only.

C
HAPTER
1

I
dropped the thermos and dimly heard it bounce once against the asphalt before rolling underneath the police vehicle.

Was that me shrieking at the top of my lungs? Was that my heart pounding so hard I thought it would burst? I stared in wide-eyed horror at the police officer. I tried to avoid looking at the deep gash in his throat and yet compelled to do so.

My stomach heaved. I clapped a hand over my mouth, effectively halting another scream, but not halting the surge of nausea sweeping through me. I’d never seen so much blood in my life. In a second, my eyes took it all in. The sight that would forever implant itself in my brain. The streaks of blood spattered on the inside of the windshield, tear-shaped droplets still slowly dripping down the curved glass and onto the dashboard.

The console, sprayed with blood, tendrils of it still trickling down onto the floor boards at his feet. I heard them. Drip. Drip. Drip.

I began to tremble, but felt frozen at the same time. I wanted to throw up, but knew I’d better not, at least not here. I’d watched enough crime shows on television to know that I couldn’t contaminate the crime scene with my vomit. But I couldn’t quite make myself leave either.

My eyes wide, my mouth open, I continued to stare at him. I didn’t even know his name, couldn’t even make it out on his name tag. It was drenched in blood.

What should I do?

I knew. I just couldn’t make myself move. The police. I had to call the police.

Slowly, one step at a time, I backed away from the police car until I stood in the middle of the road, but it wasn’t far enough to get that coppery scent out of my nostrils. The smell of blood.

I glanced up and down the road, then at the open door of the squad car. He was still seated upright and looked like he was sleeping, except for the wide, staring eyes, dilated pupils, his mouth half open in a grimace of pain or surprise, I didn’t know which. Probably both.

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