Touch of Fate (Bennett Sisters Book 2) (5 page)

She had warned him the night before not to touch her. Her blood boiled from the audacity of this man as he waltzed in to ruin her life yet again. Her shoulders tensed, she grabbed hold of his hand, twisting until she maneuvered her weight just right and tossed him over her shoulder. With a thud, he landed sprawled out on the floor face up in front of her. All of those years taking defensive classes had paid off. A smile curved her lips. No, he didn’t know her at all. She leaned over his body so he could see her face.

“Last night I warned you not to touch me. Don’t do it again.” She stepped over his body and made her way back to her office. Before she could shut her door, Matt jammed his foot over the threshold, making her unable to push it closed.
Not now.
She let out a long sigh and stalked to her window, wishing she hadn’t even got out of bed this morning. Not even the serene landscape she had grown to love could soothe her frayed nerves.

“What was that about, Abby? Do you need me to take care of him?”

Her lips twitched, trying to hide the smile that threatened. That was one thing she could count on. When one of them had a problem, they all took on the responsibility of finding a solution. He placed his hands on her arms and gently rubbed them from behind. She was tempted to lean back into his embrace for the sheer comfort he offered, but thought it better not to lead him on. Her door opened, and “Sam” stomped in, coming to an abrupt halt.

“I’m sorry,” he said. His gaze moved from Abby’s face to Matt’s and back again to land on her. His jaw twitched, he arched a brow, and then ran his hand through his brown hair, the same hair she’d touched so many times that summer. “Abby, I need thirty minutes with you. If, after that, you still don’t want to work with me, I’ll figure this out on my own. All I need is for you to listen.”

Abby crossed her arms around her midsection as she stepped out of Matt’s comforting embrace. Matt crossed his arms over his massive chest, the sleeves of his shirt were stretching tight, and his lips pulled into a thin line as he glared at Sam. “I don’t think she wants you here, asshole.”

Sam’s eyes never left hers, ignoring Matt’s comment all together. “I’m after the same guy you are. I’ve been chasing him for years. Besides, I heard you’re the best at what you do, and with you on our team, we might actually have a chance to catch him this time. Abby, this guy isn’t going to stop. He’s going to continue to keep killing until we put him behind bars.”

Abby knew that helping him would be a mistake, possibly a grave one, even though she was the logical choice. She could help him with his case and get him out of town even quicker, keeping her sanity and putting a killer away in the process. Abby lightly caressed Matt’s arm. “It’s all right, Matt. He’s here about my case and nothing more. Right,
Sam
?” Her gaze landed on Ryan, her head tilted to the side, waiting for an answer she could live with. Her mind went back to the scene from two days ago. That’s what she wanted to be focusing on, not either of the men occupying her office.

“I’ll agree to that… for now,” he said glaring at Matt. The testosterone-filled air thickened from their macho display.
I need some air
. She wanted out of the office and away from prying eyes. They needed to talk, but it couldn’t happen here. No, she couldn’t get away with hurting him without everyone watching her every move now that she had dumped him on his butt once. They would be keeping a closer eye on her, and some men in the department might end up getting in trouble by stepping in thinking she needed the help, just like Matt had done.

She pulled her gun from her holster, checked her ammo then shoved the clip back in and loaded a bullet in the chamber. Not as a display of power, hell, he probably had one bigger. She never left home without her piece hidden somewhere within reach, not since the lunatic with the knife had chased her and her sister, trying to kill them several months ago. Since then, all the men in the station had taken it upon themselves to appoint themselves as her protector. The Bennett women had inherited an extended family in the aftermath of the ordeal.

“Tell the captain he can reprimand me later. Sam and I are heading to the coroner’s office.” She left them standing there, unsure if Sam was going to follow her or not. She confidently continued on, out of her office toward the elevators. Her heartbeat sped up. She could feel his eyes on her, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of glancing back.

Chapter 7

Sam opened the passenger door and climbed into her SUV without invitation, folding his muscular body into the leather seat “You sure you don’t want me to drive?” he said as he pulled the lever releasing the seat back as far as it would go. His gaze caressing her body sent a shiver down her spine as she buckled her belt.

“Nope, I’m good. You can always follow me if you’d rather drive yourself.” She bit her lip. His presence in such tight quarters unnerved her. She inhaled a deep breath. He smelled of natural springs and everything right.

“No this is fine.” He grabbed his belt, pulling it across his crisp white dress shirt to click in place.

Her phone rang, as she turned the key in the ignition. She hit the speaker button on the Bluetooth.

“Bennett,” she said as she glanced at Sam, remembering his “new” last name and shook her head. Yes, she would have to remember to ask him about that one, she’d been waiting until they were alone. She couldn’t fathom why he would be using her last name. She rolled her eyes and wondered if he would actually tell her the truth or feed her more lies, like he’d done eighteen years ago.

“Abby, are you all right?” her sister Emma asked.
This can’t be good
. If Emma was asking, she must be getting one her “special” feelings again or Momma Mae made her call. That was Emma’s gift—she saw dead people, well, only one dead person anyway, Momma Mae, a ghost that refused to show herself to anyone but Emma and now her new hubby, Jake. Her other gift was the PMS-like symptoms she would get when one of her family members was in trouble, and for her to be calling with that question left little doubt in Abby’s mind something was wrong. She needed to warn Emma, she wasn’t alone and stop her before she said something that might expose their secret. That was the reason behind the warning system they’d created years ago.

She let out a sigh. “I’ve had better days, but it’s nothing a little chocolate couldn’t cure.” She emphasized chocolate and prayed her sister remembered their code, another one of her family’s way to keep their secret safe. Chocolate, the easiest for all three girls to remember because it was a favorite, meant they couldn’t speak freely, but they were fine. Pecans were used to tell the others they were fine but should probably stay away from the house.

Mike never liked when his sisters used the code because, as they were growing up, he was never sure if the warning was because of a boy or an actual problem. Lemons, meant trouble, the call-the-police kind of trouble and get them here quick.

The last code word was the most severe. If the words were ever muttered, everyone scattered to a prearranged destination, having no contact until they’d all met up together. They hadn’t had to use the last one yet but had instituted it just in case for emergencies.

There wasn’t a chance in hell any of their family members would be confused by this request. They’d came up with a code word that was avoided like the plague but still subtle enough not to attract the kind of attention that one of them screaming, “run for your life” would bring.
Broccoli
. There wasn’t a member of their family that could stomach the green veggie.

“How about I bring you some later unless you need Jake to bring you some now?” Emma asked. Concern filled her voice. The offer to send her big bodyguard husband meant she still remembered the code and was concerned for her safety.

“That won’t be necessary, Em. But I’ll call if that changes.”

“Yeah, well, I think I’m going to have to send him to the store for some Midol, anyway, if this niggling of a headache doesn’t go away.” That was Emma’s way of warning her that trouble loomed close for her or one of the family members. Lord knew Emma sure didn’t need the stuff, not when she was two months pregnant and expecting her first baby. She smiled at her sister’s coded message, but her heart raced at the thought of one of them being in trouble. She wiped her sweaty palms on her pants. They needed to be on the lookout, and that changed her plans.

“Make sure you call everyone if the headache doesn’t go away. I’m sure one of us can pick up the medicine and bring it over to you, including John.” The trouble might be for one of them instead, and she didn’t want to take any chances.

She ended the call and glanced at her passenger. “Sorry, you know how sisters are.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Well, come to think of it, I’m not so sure you do.” Remembering that she didn’t really know him at all, she continued to drive toward the parking exit. Her mind raced, trying to figure out what could be wrong. She would need to be able to talk to Emma without prying ears to see if there was more to the message, maybe more that Momma Mae could fill her in on.

She pulled out of the garage, glancing in the rearview mirror, and she caught the tail immediately. The silver glint on the SUV following her in the hot North Carolina sun was hard to miss. She chanced a quick glance at Sam and clenched the steering wheel so hard it turned her knuckles white. She wasn’t sure what tipped off Sam, whether it was her death grip on the wheel or her constant glance in the rearview mirror. She took a few unscheduled turns and weaved in and out of traffic, putting distance between them and their tail. She concentrated only on getting away from the car that was speeding to keep up. She maneuvered through the streets, passing the familiar buildings, people and cars she’d seen every day since starting her job at the precinct. She whispered her silent thanks that she’d lived in this town all her life and knew these roads, as well as every nook and cranny, like the back of her hand.

She had put several car lengths between her and their shadow, enough to swerve into another parking garage and park next to a black SUV similar to hers. Minutes ticked by, and the silver SUV hadn’t found them. She stayed in her hiding place. It might have been her imagination, but she wasn’t taking any chances, not since Emma had been run off the road and almost killed. She hadn’t noticed Sam on the phone or listened in to his conversation, but she saw him disconnecting the call. His eyes trained on the garage entrance. When she was sure they had lost the car, she put her car in park and let her hands drop to her lap as she blew her bangs out of her eyes.

“You okay?” he asked as he reached for her hand.

His grip wasn’t tight, but comforting, a familiar touch she remembered from years ago. His touch sent a spark through her system. She closed her eyes and soaked in his comfort. His touch elicited a vision of unfamiliar images behind her closed eyes. Grief hit her senses, strong enough to make her almost choke. She wasn’t sure if the feelings were his or hers. Abby hadn’t been able to pick up on feelings before; images were the only thing her gift normally gave her.
This is something new
. Her muscles tensed. Then the loneliness took hold, bringing an unshed tear to her eye. Was it possible Sam had been as miserable as she’d been all these years?

All of the intense emotions she experienced drained from her body, as foreign images filled her mind from his touch. The younger version of Sam had crouched behind a car when startled by the sound of a woman’s blood-curdling scream through a moonlit sky. A man ran from the house in a hurry leaving the door wide open in his haste. She zeroed in on the only physical description that held her captive from the man fleeing the scene. The lighted street revealed a pentagram, tattooed on his left arm, and it was identical to the one above her victim’s bed without the initials RD.
Ryan Douglas,
she thought. Abby watched as the scared young boy shivered, before standing and in his curiosity crossed the street entering the house. Abby wanted to follow. She needed to know what lay beyond the open door, but just as sudden as she appeared to witness the event, she was pulled back to her world.

“Abby, are you alright?” Sam asked, now squeezing her hand.

Her gift had given her a glimpse of what had happened all of those years ago to the man sitting beside her.

She gasped, opened her eyes, and pulled her hand from his. She knew why he was here, he had told her the truth, and now her gift confirmed it. Uncertainty hit her. He was after the same killer she was.
We need to catch this guy.

She gazed into his eyes. “Sorry.” She cleared her throat. “I’m fine. Did you get a look at the driver?” Her mind was spinning in several directions as she tried to process all of the information. She needed to figure him out, fast, if she had any hope of getting through this with her heart intact. She needed her sister Claire. Claire could read thoughts if she concentrated hard enough. Abby would make it a point to get him near Claire in the extremely near future. For now, she decided to go for the honest approach and just ask. She’d use Claire as a last resort, her ace in the hole to validate what Sam said was true.

She closed her eyes once more, unable to look in his blue eyes, and drew in a breath, inhaling his earthy musk that filled the car. She opened her eyes and turned in her seat. “You’re here because of the pentagram, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

She peered out her window into the vast darkness of the garage. “You really do know who this guy is, don’t you? He put your initials in the middle of it so you’d come here.” She said it more as a statement than a question. Her heart was breaking again. It confirmed he truly hadn’t come here for her.

His lack of response told her what she needed to know. She put the car in reverse and backed out of their alcove. Her mind was reeling, trying to analyze this new piece of information.