Casanova Killer (5 page)

“Home to change?” Rodney asked as he started the car.

“Nope, no time. They’ll have to take me as I am.” Luckily, Dylan had been right about the matching pants to the ridiculously colorful leotard. She’d also found a jacket to complete the camouflage.

“Any luck?” Rodney was a man of few words.

“Maybe, I made a new friend who may have a friend fitting our unsub’s type. We’ll see tomorrow.” Jerry relaxed as Rodney maneuvered his way through the crowded streets. “What about you, see anyone interesting hanging around?”

“You mean did I see anyone driving a red Mas? No such luck. Nate thinks he’s stashed the car, too smart to drive it around now.”

“I agree with Nate. This guy’s no dummy, but doesn’t it seem odd to you that he would be so conspicuous in the first place? Most serials blend in; this guy is practically thumbing his nose at us. He’s either too cocky or he has more than one luxury vehicle at his disposal.”

“Nate thinks he’s got a private garage somewhere. It’s the only way he could disappear in the city. Traffic cams are everywhere.” Rodney brought the car to a smooth stop in front of a trendy-looking salon.

“Too trendy.” Jerry wrinkled her nose in distaste as she waited for him to open the door. “Back in an hour or so,” she told him with an apologetic smile. She knew that one of the worst things a good agent could experience was downtime. She could tell that Rodney was not a fan of being a glorified bodyguard.

“I’ll be here.” He smiled back at her in understanding. “At least I’ve got a scanner.”

Chapter Seven

“Oh, Oscar, what a beautiful spot for a picnic. The sun will set directly in front of us. However did you find it? It’s so far from civilization.” Sonja walked to the edge of the deserted cliff and peeked at the churning Pacific below.

“Anything for you, my dear. I wanted today to be special,  just the two of us.” The man calling himself Oscar spread a blanket near the edge of the cliff. He considered actually going along with the picnic, the sunset promised to be spectacular.

It had taken him days of hiking to find this spot, after the last debacle he needed to be certain that this one’s body would not be discovered too soon. He liked San Francisco and would prefer to settle in for a bit.

“Come sit with me, Os.” Sonja settled onto the blanket and held out her hand.

He managed not to cringe at the insipid nickname she insisted on using. Instead, he took her hand and settled beside her. Her use of the nickname clarified his decision. He would enjoy the picnic after he’d taken care of her.

This one reminded him the most of his fiancé, Elizabeth. There was something about the way she raised her eyebrows when she spoke that sent him rushing back to the most idyllic time of his life. Even now, as the one beside him prattled on about the scenery, his thoughts drifted to his one and only true love, his Beth.

Their time together had been much too brief, but it had been perfect. At least until the end. Beth was everything he’d ever imagined his wife to be; beautiful, statuesque, cultured and accomplished. She complemented him in every way.

Had Sonja bothered to look at Oscar just then, she might have mistaken the light in his eyes as love for her. Instead, Sonja leaned back against him and continued her tale of childhood adventures on the rocky beaches of Maine. The man she called Oscar continued to remember his Beth with the slanted perspective that only one with his particular delusional disorder could conjure.

Beth loved him, of that he was certain. He never understood why she tried to hide from him near the end, or how she could lay in another man’s bed.

The man’s eyes darkened as he remembered the rage he felt as he walked in on his Beth, opening her legs for that nouveau riche peasant. He could still see the fear and pain in her lover’s eyes as he stripped him of his skin and smell the scent of burning flesh as he made the man pay for his sins. It surprised and pleased him that, even now, he could hear his Beth screaming as he forced her to watch her lover’s punishment.

It was a point of honor for him that he’d been merciful when he killed Beth. Honorable though it was, her death had not been as satisfying as it should have been. Thus began his quest to duplicate the experience in hopes that he would finally find true satisfaction.

Glancing down at the woman who’d plastered herself against him, ‘Oscar’ took a deep breath. Maybe this one would give him what he needed.

“Let’s take a walk,” he invited as soon as she stopped talking long enough to take a breath. “The sun will be setting soon and I’d like to find the perfect spot to watch.” He gently pushed her away from his body and stood, then held out his hand to her.

“Sure, Os, but I don’t know where we’ll find a better spot than this one.” Sonja smiled and let him pull her to her feet.

“Let’s get closer to the edge,” he suggested and led the way. As docile as a kitten, she followed him.

Minutes later, his task complete, the man settled back on the blanket and reached into the picnic basket. The sun was a large orange orb that deepened in color with every passing second. As it dipped below the watery horizon, he enjoyed a sip of champagne and a taste of goose liver and considered his next move. Though he had enjoyed the kill, this one had not brought the peace he’d been searching for. Without a doubt, he knew that she was out there, the brunette beauty whose death would be enough.

He would simply have to keep looking.

Chapter Eight

Ethan struggled from sleep as a shaft of light fell across his face. Someone had opened the curtains.

“Ethan,” Jerry prodded softly. “Wake up. We have to get ready for dinner.” She hated to wake him, but it couldn’t be helped.

Groaning, Ethan opened one eye to see Jerry standing in front of him, still wearing her yoga outfit. He felt his body respond automatically, partially from the dream he’d been having about her and partially from the memory of the way she’d looked without the pants and jacket. In that second, he was grateful to be lying face down.

“I’m up. What time is it?” His eyes were open, but he made no move to sit up. It was disconcerting and felt much too intimate. Jerry turned to leave.

“It’s nearly six. I’m sorry to wake you, but I need the room.” Jerry reached the door and glanced back to see him still lying down, but watching her intently.

“Of course, I’ll be in there in a sec.”

“I’ll put on some coffee.”

“Thanks.” He waited until she closed the door before daring to sit up. “Damnation,” he whispered. I’m acting like a teenager, raging hormones and all. She probably thinks I’m daft.” Staring down at the evidence of his arousal, he growled. “Stop thinking about her or you’ll never be able to leave the room.”

Jerry placed a coffee cup on the table just as Ethan stepped into the great room.

“Thanks, that smells wonderful.” She could swear she saw his color heighten as he spoke to her.

“You’re welcome. I’m heading for the shower, there’re plenty of snacks, if you’re hungry.”

“I’m famished, thanks. Sorry I slept so long, any news?”

“No, nothing important since you spoke with Dylan. I won’t be long.” Jerry disappeared into the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

The cavernous bathroom was large enough for a family of four, but Jerry still hated sharing it with a stranger. Especially a stranger that made her pulse race with his sleepy bedroom eyes and hair that begged her to touch.

The powder room was also generous with plenty of room for Ethan to get dressed, but it didn’t have a shower so they had to share this one.

Jerry surveyed the variety of pots and bottles and colorful containers that lined the vanity section of the bath. She had no idea what to do with half of that stuff, couldn’t imagine why anyone would need so many different powders and lotions. The stylist left them here for a reason; she would just have to suck it up and learn what was what.

Thirty minutes later, Jerry left the bathroom covered in creams and lotions and a slinky bathrobe designed to leave little to the imagination. Thankfully, she had a few of her own belongings in the go-bag she kept at the office. She rummaged through it now, searching for a pair of old sweats that would be more presentable than the silky bit of fabric that molded her every curve. No way was she facing Ethan dressed in next to nothing.

“You look nice; very shabby chic.” He teased moments later as she entered the great room. “I especially like the turban. Is that new this season?” He motioned at the fluffy towel covering Jerry’s hair.

“Thanks; I’m starting a trend.” She teased back. “I thought you might appreciate the shower before I begin getting dressed.” Jerry poured a cup of coffee.

“Yes, I would. I’ve been in these clothes for over twenty-four hours.” He ran his hand over his chin, feeling the stubble that made him look more rakish than usual.

“It’s all yours.” Jerry joined him at the table.

“I hope this isn’t too awkward for you, living with a virtual stranger.” Ethan met her gaze and felt another punch of attraction. What the hell was happening to him? How could a woman dressed in ratty sweats with no makeup and her hair piled beneath a bulky towel hold any appeal, much less make him want to taste every inch of her beautiful body? It was nuts and definitely a first.

Jerry thought she read desire in his eyes and nearly shook her head. She had to be getting her signals mixed up. There was no way he could possibly think she was attractive at the moment.

“It’s fine. You’re not the worst roommate I’ve had. During my six years with the agency, I’ve learned to roll with the punches.” She smiled. “It’s not exactly a hardship, living here. My apartment in Virginia would fit in these two rooms.”

“If your job is anything like mine, I doubt that you spend much time there.” Ethan stood and cleared his dishes.

“Not much, but it’s nice to have a place to come home to.” Jerry shrugged.

“I haven’t seen my flat in London for months. I know what you mean, though. It’s good to have a place to call home. My parents moved back to Australia last year; Dad retired and Mom set up a new practice. They’d tell you that my home is wherever they are, and it’s true. But I do require my own space.”

“Umm, it’s nice that you’re so close to them.”

“Yes, but it’s difficult to see them as often as I’d like. Are you close with your family?” Ethan leaned against the kitchen doorway, still holding an empty plate and coffee mug.

“Not really.” Jerry answered, then hastily changed the subject. “Oooh, look at the time,” she glanced up at the massive clock. “You’d better claim the shower before I start to transform this mess.” She indicated herself with a wave of her hand.

“You’re beautiful, just as you are.” The sincerity in Ethan’s voice was unmistakable.

“And you need your eyes checked, in addition to a shower.” Jerry laughed. “But thanks.”

Ethan winked and disappeared into the kitchen.

Jerry was pleasantly surprised to see that Ethan had left the bathroom as neatly as he’d found it; no wet towels lying on the floor, no hair in the sink and, best of all, the toilet seat was down.  He’s either a neat freak, or he’s trying to impress me, she thought with a smile. “I’ll take either one,” she said aloud.

Leaving half of the pots and potions lining her dressing table unopened, Jerry applied self-proclaimed miracle creams that made her skin feel like silk and makeup that cost more than her monthly car payment. She couldn’t remember the last time she had to primp this much for an assignment, including the time she worked undercover as a high-class call girl to help break up a drug ring.

The silk floral cocktail dress she’d already selected to wear that evening hinted at a classic fifties-era design with its tight fitting bodice, sweetheart neckline and full, fluffy skirt. She’d always loved the style, but dressing for dinner in her world usually meant slacks and a sweater, or at best, a simple skirt and blouse. Living, eating and breathing the SSCD left no room for exploring her secret passion for vintage clothing and all things girly. She’d never admit it to Dylan or Nate, but this assignment spoke to her innermost desires on so many levels.

Letting the dress fall over her head, she was pleased to see that it stopped just above her knees, though she suspected that it was designed to land below the knee on a woman of average height. Still, it was acceptable, classic and more than a little flirty.

She left her hair long, as that was the unsub’s preference, and attached a sapphire studded clip to one side as her only accessory. With one last glance at her reflection, she grabbed a matching pashmina and headed for the door.

Ethan’s reaction as she entered the room told Jerry everything she needed to know. “Wow, you look wonderful.” She was made to satisfy every man’s fantasy, he thought. The perfect combination of classic beauty and sultry sensuality. He wondered how he’d gotten so lucky.

“Thanks. You clean up pretty good yourself.” She smiled approvingly at his deep blue suit and crisp white shirt.

The three-inch pumps she’d chosen brought her to within an inch of Ethan’s 6’4”stance. Together they made a striking pair and would surely turn more than one head tonight.

“Are you ready for our debut?” Ethan’s dimples deepened when he smiled at her.

“As I’ll ever be.” Jerry took his proffered arm and felt a jolt race through her system. “By the way, Dylan called to remind us that the society editor from the Chronicle will be there tonight. Plans are to plaster our photo and a brief “look who’s here” article in the paper tomorrow.”

“That should help get his attention.” Ethan made a grand gesture of opening the door. “Your kingdom awaits, m’lady.”

Jerry couldn’t help but smile and feel a little like Cinderella. “Why thank you, kind sir,” she responded and swept out the door.

Word that a photographer from the Chronicle would be at Quincette that evening had spread to at least a dozen paparazzi, all of whom were waiting when Ethan escorted Jerry from the car. Doing her best to appear aloof and disinterested in the face of so many flashing cameras, Jerry held onto Ethan’s hand and let him lead her into the restaurant.

The beautifully appointed dining room was both modern and relaxed. Tables set with candlelight and crystal beaconed diners to sit and enjoy. As the hostess led them to a two-top in the middle of the room, Jerry tried not to look impressed with the ambiance. The woman she portrayed would be accustomed to such beautiful surroundings; she would also be used to the admiring glances she felt directed at both her and Ethan.

She could hardly blame the women; Ethan looked like a walking orgasm. Some were watching him covertly, others openly stared. She sat up just a little straighter, knowing that he was hers, even if it was only work.

“You’re creating a sensation.” His words surprised her, the only ‘sensation’ she could see was the women’s reactions to him.

“I think you mean
you’re
stirring things up.”

“Maybe a little, but every man in the room wishes he were me tonight.” Ethan reached across the table and took her hand. She felt it in her toes.

“Isn’t that a line from a movie?” Jerry tried not to appear affected by his touch.

“Probably, but it fits. You’re truly stunning.” His fingers held hers lightly as he looked deep into her eyes.

He’s just playing a role, Jerry reminded herself. It’s all part of the game. “Thank you. It’s all for you, darling.” The endearment rolled off of her tongue, even though she’d never remembered calling anyone ‘darling’ before tonight.

Ethan raised his eyebrows slightly, then relaxed. This had to be the best assignment he’d ever landed. At this moment in time, he was grateful that Casanova had led him to this place, to this woman. The wave of guilt that followed his thought was not enough to make him regret it.

“Tell me about your day, my sweet.” Ethan waited until the waiter had left with their drink order before opening the conversation. “Did you do anything amusing?”

“Oh, yes. It was wonderful.” Jerry launched into a description of the yoga class and her participation in the same that had Ethan genuinely laughing.

“I really don’t think you should laugh at me until you can hook both ankles behind your head.” Jerry tone dripped sweetness, but Ethan saw the daggers in her eyes. It made him laugh harder.

“I’m sorry, love, but you make it sound a treat. I really think I’d like to join you tomorrow, just to see it for myself.”

“Don’t you dare,” Jerry’s eyes flashed, even though her smile remained warm.

“We’ll see,” he teased. “So, did you make any new friends?”

“Yes. I met a lovely girl who attends the same class every day. She’s as good as the instructor.” Jerry accepted the menu from the waiter, noting that he only had eyes for Ethan.

“Thank you,” Ethan told him after hearing the specials. “We’ll let you know when we’re ready.”

“Yes sir.” The waiter looked disappointed that he had been dismissed.

“Who knew that oysters on the half shell could sound so sexy.” Jerry teased. “I think he has a crush.”