In a Heartbeat (11 page)

Lisa stared at him, determined not to let him railroad her. She liked her independence, had lost too much of herself four years ago. But the dark fervor in Brad’s eyes shook her to the core. He’d already made up his mind. There would be no arguing.

And she’d sensed the underlying hesitation in his question. If she didn’t trust him…? Good Lord, she trusted him with her life.

It was her heart she was worried about losing this time.

The phone jangled, cutting into the silence stretching between them, and Lisa startled, then gaped at the handset as if it was a foreign object. Needing a reprieve from Brad’s unsettling gaze, she picked up the phone.

Heavy breathing filled the line, then a low murmur. “Hello, Lisa.”

She tensed at the man’s voice. “Who is this?”

“You stole my heart four years ago, Lisa,” he said in an almost singsongy voice. “And I’m coming back for it.”

Then the phone clicked into silence.

BRAD WAS STILL WAITING on Lisa to answer him, his heart thumping more rapidly the longer she hesitated. Did she trust him? Did she want another agent assigned to her?

Then she paled and leaned against the chair, her face crumpling as she held the phone midair. Something was wrong.

“What is it, Lisa? Who was that?”

“I don’t know.” Her gaze swung toward him, the fear in her eyes sending a sharp jolt through his system.

He jerked the phone to his ear but heard the dial tone blaring, then punched star sixty-nine for the call back number. The result showed out of area. Meanwhile, Lisa slumped onto the sofa, hugging her arms around her and rocking back and forth, a dazed look in her eyes.

“Lisa?” His instincts roaring to life, he slid down beside her and gently placed a hand on her back, stroking, massaging. “What’s wrong?”

She slowly angled her head toward him. “It was a man. He…said I stole his heart four years ago, and that he’s coming back for it.”

“Damn it.” Brad ground his teeth, biting back the litany of profanity on the tip of his tongue. “What else?”

She shook her head, looking confused. “That’s it.” A frown creased her brow. “I don’t understand…what did he mean? And who would call me and say something like that?”

Brad had a terrible feeling that he did know, but he hated to panic her. “Is your phone number listed?”

“No. You know it isn’t.”

“Right.” He’d help set her up here. “Who in town has your number?”

“Just Ruby and the people I work with.”

“None of the parents you teach?”

“No. We don’t give out our home numbers.”

Another possibility struck him. “Have you dated anyone since you moved here?”

He braced himself in case she answered yes. After all, he wanted her to be happy, to move on.

She dropped her gaze to her hands, her voice a low, thready whisper. “No. There’s never been anyone.”

“How about someone who might have asked? Anybody you turned down?”

She took a moment longer answering, then looked into his eyes. “No.” Another frown drew her brows together. “What’s going on, Brad?”

“I don’t know, but I’m damn sure going to find out.”

VERNON COULDN’T STEADY his breathing as he dropped the phone in its cradle. Simply hearing the sound of Lisa’s voice had made him hard, caused a burning ache to roll through him that he hadn’t felt in years.

Not since his surgery.

But he was back again. Alive. Ready to confront the world and be the man who captured Lisa’s heart, just as she had captured his so long ago.

Granted, William White had torn them apart. He’d caused Lisa to be wary of men; Vernon could see that in her eyes now. And he hated it. He’d also heard it in her voice when he’d knocked on her door, and it had about near killed him.

He rubbed a hand over his groin, then his sex, feeling the heat rising and churning, about to explode. But he wouldn’t relieve himself.

No. Only bad boys did that. And he wasn’t a bad boy. Not like the men his mama had entertained. He had talked to the Lord. Turned himself around.

He would wait. Hold back for Lisa. And when he held her in his arms, he’d show her how gentle a real man could be. How he could make her tingle and light up with fire by running his hands all over her body.

He knew how to please a woman. Not like William White, who’d pretended to be a great lover but who couldn’t keep it up long enough to satisfy a woman. William was a selfish man. He never thought about the lady’s pleasure, only his own.

Sick, sadistic animal.

Vernon’s chest puffed up with pride. He wasn’t like White. He was smart, cunning. And now with the surgery, he was even halfway attractive. More importantly, he cared about Lisa’s needs. Enough to be patient.

Enough to love her the way God intended.

He had learned so much about White over the past four years, too. White had gotten what he deserved for hurting Lisa.

Vernon adjusted himself inside his pants, lifted the weights he used to strengthen and build his muscles, then struggled to work through the routine his physical therapist had suggested. Biceps curls. Overhead lifts. Squats and thrusts.

When Lisa had known him, he had been weak. Just a scrawny boy.

Now he was well developed and muscled. A man.

The very reason she hadn’t recognized him when she’d looked through her peephole.

He dropped the weight to the mat, heaving in disgust. Lord, he hated to think of Lisa hiding out there, alone, frightened.

Deciding he should slow things down after making that phone call, but unable to stop his obsession, he dragged on a T-shirt, then stepped onto the porch of the little clapboard house he’d rented. Dry, dead leaves crunched below his feet, the brittle pieces fluttering off into the dirt. Seconds later, he stalked through the woods that separated their properties, his breath erupting in hot puffs as he climbed the incline for a view of her cabin. The tall oaks and pines shivered in the breeze around him, the shadows of the leaves and needles dancing on the ground, catching his eye. For a second, he was lost in their patterns, seeing animal shapes and faces and even parts of bodies in the designs. A hand. A finger. A leg. All mutilated.

No, he had to banish the dark thoughts.

The sound of a door opening slapped him back to attention, and he pushed through the bushes, staying well hidden but watching for a glimpse of his beloved. He wouldn’t approach her now. Wouldn’t spook her. Especially when he hadn’t bothered to clean himself up. He wanted to smell good and look his best when he met her face-to-face.

But he had to sneak a peak at her now, see her face when the sunlight hit that golden hair. Watch as she tried to figure out who her admirer might be. Was she smiling now? Dreaming of who her secret caller was? Thinking about how she could finagle a meeting?

His heart suddenly clenched, dropping into a painful rhythm as she stepped onto the wooden porch. Lisa wasn’t alone.

A tall, big-shouldered man with dark hair and expensive sunglasses exited the cabin with her. He wore a fancy pin-striped dark suit and one of those red power ties, and his shoes looked as if they’d been spit polished.

Fury raged inside Vernon as he zeroed in on the man’s face. That son of a bitch Special Agent Brad Booker. Vernon had seen photos of him with Lisa after her attack. Had read the articles. Booker had saved Lisa from death, then coaxed her to testify.

Vernon should thank him for that. And actually, Booker had led him to Lisa. Unknowingly, of course.

But he wouldn’t thank him for anything. Because in those photos, just like now, he recognized that primal instinct of man that only another male could understand.

Booker wanted Lisa for himself.

Was that the reason he was here now?

No! A scream built in Vernon’s throat, nearly sending him to his knees. It was
his
turn to be with Lisa. She couldn’t be interested in that agent. Vernon had gone through so much to make himself presentable to her, to be the man she wanted.

And sweet Jesus, it had taken him three and a half years to track her down.

Booker slid a hand to the back of Lisa’s waist, then leaned close to say something to her, and the rage inside Vernon erupted into hot lava floating through his veins. Booker was not going to take Lisa away from him like White had.

No. Vernon had been a weakling back then, a boy without enough balls to stand up for himself. But not this time.

He picked up a tiny branch, crunched it in his hands. Bark cut into his skin and blood dripped to the ground.

Booker would go down if he had to. Because Lisa belonged to him.

Vernon pressed a bloody hand to his heart, the thud, thud, thud accelerating as he imagined her naked beneath him. Him thrusting inside her tight sheath. Over and over.

Yes. The pinwheels of a plan began spinning into place in his mind, and he felt comforted. Calmer. More assured. He’d looked for Lisa forever.

Now she was only a heartbeat away. And soon she would be his.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“CALL RUBY.” Brad reached for the phone. “You’re not going to work. You’re staying with me.”

“But Brad—”

He pushed the handset toward her, but she resisted. “I don’t like it any more than you do, Lisa, but we have to treat that phone call as a threat.”

Lisa’s bottom lip quivered. “Maybe it was just a prank.”

Brad jammed the phone into her hand. He hated like hell to scare her, but if it was the only way to keep her safe, then he’d damn well do it. “Lisa, you remember what it was like when White kidnapped you, when he put you in that grave—”

“I can’t believe you would ask me that. How could I ever forget?” Lisa’s voice cracked with emotions. “I think about it every day. Every night when I close my eyes…I remember him touching me. The stench of his body odor. The box closing around me.”

God, her voice sounded anguished. Hollow.

Brad felt like the lowest. But he couldn’t retract his comment—if Lisa had to be scared into accepting his protection, then so be it. “That’s the very reason we aren’t going to take a chance on this second guy coming after you and succeeding this time.”

She shook her head, the pain in her eyes tearing at him. “But I’m tired of running,” she admitted, her voice small. “I thought I was healing, Brad, recovering from the kidnapping, but…” She hesitated, gestured around her. “I’ve been hiding out instead.”

“No, you’ve been building a life.” Brad’s heart clenched, but he spoke with conviction. “You have a beautiful place here in the mountains. Pictures of the children on the refrigerator.” He gentled his tone. “And I saw you at the day care. The kids adore you, and so does the staff. You look stronger now, happy. At least you did until I arrived.” He reached out, stroked her arms. “I want you to have all that, to live your life without ever being afraid again.”
Even if that means I’m not in your life.

Lisa nodded slowly. “But maybe this copycat isn’t after me at all.”

He couldn’t dismiss the man’s choice of words:
You’ve stolen my heart. I’m coming back for it.
It had been a warning. “We can’t ignore that phone call, Lisa. It’s too much of a coincidence.”

Her expression turned grave. Resigned. As if she’d lost the battle she’d been fighting for four years. As if she’d known she would the minute he’d shown up in town.

But at least she was still fighting.

Then again, going with him was half the problem. He’d let her down before.

He wouldn’t do so this time.

Lisa punched in the day care number and spoke with Ruby, her voice stilted. When she hung up, she retreated to the bedroom to pack a bag. He phoned Ethan for an update and left a message. His phone jangled as soon as he disconnected from Ethan’s voice mail.

“Special Agent Booker?”

“Yes.”

“This is Sheriff Theo Hallwater in Woodstock. I sent my deputy out looking around. There’s an abandoned house nearby that we’re going to ride out and check. My deputy said he saw a suspicious car out there earlier. He ran the plate, but the car was stolen.”

Brad’s pulse accelerated. “Give me the location, and I’ll meet you there.”

The sheriff recited directions, and Brad jotted them down, then met Lisa at her bedroom door and took her bag. “Come on, there’s an old abandoned building in Woodstock we’re going to check out.”

“You think Mindy might be there?” Lisa asked.

God, he hoped so. “I don’t know, but the sheriff is suspicious. It’s worth a shot.” They hurried to his car, and he started the engine. As he veered onto the highway, he tried to remain optimistic that they’d find Mindy and the killer at this building.

But his gut warned him that Mindy was already dead.

“I HOPE MINDY’S NOT DEAD.” Anne, a young redheaded nurse, with startling hazel eyes, looked up at Wayne Nettleton, tears glistening on the fringes of her lashes.

“I know. Mindy’s a great girl,” a chubby nurse with bifocals added in a worried voice. “God knows we’ve been blessed to have her. We’ve all been sick about her disappearance here at First Peachtree.”

Wayne’s chin itched beneath the fake beard, but he fought the impulse to scratch it for fear the danged thing might slip and reveal his disguise. Not that he’d actually needed one to question the hospital staff, but he’d just left a seedy area where he’d questioned a few of the homeless, and had wanted to fit in. If they’d known he was a reporter, they’d probably have run. He’d learned long ago if he blended into the crowd, he’d glean more information.

He had shed the ratty clothes before entering the hospital, and was pretending to be a relative of Mindy’s, an uncle who’d rushed to Atlanta out of concern for his missing niece. He’d played the sympathy card when he’d first arrived, forcing a couple of tears from his eyelids. That had done the trick. The nurses were eating out of his hand now, really to spill their guts.

Besides, when people learned that the Grave Digger was calling him personally, they tended to look at him as if he was the killer.

“She enjoyed working at the hospital,” Nettleton continued.

“Yes, she loves nursing,” the redhead said. “She always keeps her head in emergencies.”

Wayne nodded, smiling at the chubby one, Doretha. She was as round as she was tall, with soft folds around her neck and a chin that reminded him of a chipmunk. But he’d tease her, flirt, whatever was necessary to keep her talking. “Mindy has a spontaneous side to her, too,” Wayne said. “And she’s so pretty.”

“Lord, yes, that she is,” Doretha said with a twinkle in her eye. “She likes to have fun. And let me tell you, more than one man’s head turned around here when she walked past.”

Anne tapped her fingernails on her clipboard. “I thought she was getting serious about a guy awhile back, but they ended things suddenly.”

“That FBI agent, Brad Booker,” Doretha said with a head bob. “He was a looker, but he was too brooding for Mindy. And Lord knows, the hours the man kept. He’d never be around to help raise babies with her.”

“She still had it bad for him,” Anne murmured. “But she thought he was in love with someone else.”

Wayne made a mental note to add Booker’s involvement with Mindy to his article. He’d like to question Booker now, too. See his reaction. Although if he did, he might arouse more suspicion on himself… Not a good idea.

Doretha snickered. “It didn’t take her long to find someone else.”

“Was she seeing anyone in particular?” Wayne asked, keeping his tone level.

Doretha and Anne traded skeptical looks. “Well,” Doretha finally said. “She dated one of the male nurses a few times. And…I saw her leave with Dr. Langley twice.”

Wayne’s eyebrows shot up. “She socialized with Lisa Langley’s father?”

Anne gave Doretha an odd look. “I don’t think so,” Anne said. “They worked together, but date—no. He’s quite a bit older.”

As if that mattered,
Nettleton thought.

“I saw them arguing in the hall a couple of weeks ago,” Doretha added. “But it must not have been important because they went to lunch the next day.”

Wayne frowned and pressed a thumb to his chin to stem the goddamn itch. “Was there anyone who disliked Mindy? Someone who’d want to hurt her?”

Anne scrunched her nose in thought while Doretha’s pudgy cheeks ballooned outward. “Not that I know of,” Anne finally said.

“Everyone loved her,” Doretha added.

Which meant these women knew nothing. Wayne had been an investigative reporter too long not to realize that the lack of a connection between the victims complicated the police’s case even more. But there was a connection… The police just hadn’t figured it out yet.

He pasted on another look of concern. “I’d like to talk to Dr. Langley,” he said. “Can you page him for me?”

Doretha checked the schedule. “He should be out of surgery by now. I’ll see if I can find him.” She batted her eyelashes at Wayne, and he offered her a solicitous look.

“Thank you, I appreciate it.”

Doretha showed him to the vending machine, and he grabbed a cup of coffee while he waited. But ten minutes later, she returned to the waiting area. “I’m sorry, Mr. Faulkner, but Dr. Langley has already gone for the day.”

He cursed silently, but thanked her and accepted the business card she handed him, smiling at her scrawled phone number.

“If you need anything while you’re in town,” Doretha said, “feel free to call. Our thoughts and prayers are with you for Mindy’s safe return.”

“Thank you so much.” Aiming for sincerity, he tucked the card in his pocket, knowing good and well he wouldn’t call this woman, not unless he needed more information.

Deciding a quick visit to Dr. Langley’s home might spruce up his story, he headed toward the elevator. The fact that Langley’s daughter was the final victim of the first Grave Digger, that Langley worked with Mindy Faulkner, and that Booker had dated her was too much of a coincidence to ignore. More spice for his article.

And what about Lisa Langley? She’d disappeared after the trial four years ago. Did she know about this copycat killer?

Maybe Langley was with her now. And maybe Langley would lead him to Lisa. An interview with daddy’s little princess would certainly raise even more hype about the story.

LISA STARED OUT the window at the passing scenery as Brad drove down the mountain through Resaca and several other small towns, the dismal gray sky overhead mimicking her mood. Rolling farmland and small, quaint towns passed, reminding her of the contrast to Atlanta with its skyscrapers, heavy traffic, endless milling people and sea of anonymous faces.

She tried to think about the kids at day camp, about the art activities they were doing, the innocent little faces, the smiles and laughter, the tears over trivial things like stubbed toes or frustration over not being able to tie their shoes. The friendly people in town, the small diner where everyone knew everyone else, the homemade banana bread Ruby had brought.

The things she’d miss in Atlanta.

She’d felt safe in Ellijay, surrounded by the jutting mountain ridges, fresh air, apple houses and normally clear blue skies.

Now, she felt anything but safe.

Exactly the way Mindy must be feeling. No, Mindy’s terror was much more real right now. She was probably being brutalized, tormented, her throat dry from lack of water, her body slowly dying, just as the flowers and grass were wilting from the drought.

And then the terror of being buried alive….

The familiar burn returned to Lisa’s throat, sending chills cascading down her arms and neck, and she opened the window for air.

Brad remained sullen, brooding, his eyes trained on the road, his hands clenched tightly around the steering wheel. She ached to comfort him, to assure him they’d find his girlfriend alive, but how could she make a promise like that when she had no idea if it would come true, when she had no control over the situation?

“I’m sorry, Lisa,” Brad murmured in a low voice. “I know you’d rather be anywhere but with me.”

She glanced at his taut face and saw the anguish in his expression. Had he felt this way, been tormented, when he’d searched for her that night?

His gaze cut toward her, and her breath caught. He had. She saw it in the flash of pain and remorse in his eyes. The same sense of helplessness she felt now.

Only he had dated Mindy. Their relationship was more personal.

“I want to tell you we’ll find her,” she said in a strained voice. “I…pray we do, Brad.”

His mouth worked from side to side. “I know you do, and I…appreciate you helping.”

“I haven’t done anything,” Lisa said.

A strained lapse of silence followed. “Yes, you have,” he said in a low voice. “You faced the past to help Mindy.”

Had she? Or had she done it for Brad?

Or maybe for herself. It was time she confronted her fears. Perhaps if she helped save Mindy, she could forgive herself for the other women. Forget the helplessness and anger that had nearly driven her crazy those first few months after her own abduction and rescue.

He turned his gaze back to the curve ahead. Traffic slowed, an eighteen-wheeler shifting into low gear, the car in front of them riding its brakes. Someone slammed on a horn and a chorus followed.

“I could drop you at the police station before we meet that sheriff,” he offered.

Lisa spotted the railroad crossing up ahead, and her stomach knotted. “No, don’t waste time. You need to hurry.”

His breath hissed out as the car bounced, then flew over the railroad tracks. He turned onto a dirt road, then followed it for about three or four miles to a boulder where a mailbox sat at an odd angle, as if it had recently been plowed over and jammed back in the ground.

Brad spun onto the narrow dirt drive, the car bouncing over the gravel and earth, hitting potholes and spewing dust in its wake. Brittle bushes and weeds nearly as tall as the car door scraped the sides of the car, and limbs clawed at the window.

Through the cloud of trees and weeds, Lisa spotted an old clapboard house in a small clearing. An ancient washing machine and sofa sat on the rotting front porch. A beagle loped down the steps, then stopped and cocked its head before dropping back to the ground to chew on a half-gnawed bone.

The sheriff’s car was parked to the side, a rusted Chevelle on an incline, facing down the hill behind the house.

Brad stopped his vehicle and gestured for her to stay in it. He locked the door, but left the key inside. “If there’s trouble, don’t wait. Get the hell out of here.”

She frowned, and worried her bottom lip, jiggling her leg up and down while he drew his gun and slowly approached the house. A second later, a barrel-chested man in a sheriff’s uniform appeared. Brad followed him inside the house, and Lisa fisted her hands, her leg bouncing faster as she waited.

The house was quiet. No signs of life.

Did that mean they were too late? That Mindy was dead inside, or buried somewhere on the property?

THE STENCH OF DRUGS and chemicals heated the summer air as Brad entered the wooden house, the sight in front of him giving him a jolt of surprise. Marijuana plants filled one entire back room, visible from the small living area, and a meth lab had been set up in the other.