One Week To Live (11 page)

How could she think of asking this stranger to accept her, when Susan’s past was linked to another woman she’d called Mom? She couldn’t. She’d surrendered the right to be Susan’s mother the day she’d given her up for adoption. After one more longing look, she pushed her way back through the crowd to Brian.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said, wiping at a tear. “What that mother is going through is horrible. No one should have to endure losing a daughter.”

A look of pain briefly flashed through his eyes then disappeared. What was he hiding?

“Did they find another clue in the shoe?” he asked, changing the subject.

“From where I stood, the shoe looked empty.”

“Damn,” he mumbled.

“The poor kid,” she said sucking in a breath. He put his arm around her shoulders. This time she didn’t shy away from his touch. Instead, she welcomed the brief embrace.

“Looks like the television crews are done with Susan. I need to talk to her. Do you want to join me?”

“No, thank you,” she responded much too quickly.

“Angie, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. You do your job. I’ll wait here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

As he threaded his way through the throng, the Strip’s nightlife swirled around her. Car and bus tires hissed on pavement damp from an earlier shower. Headlights and tail lights reflected brightly off the road’s moist surface, and neon signs shimmered red, green, blue, and gold in curbside puddles.

The rain hadn’t curtailed the nighttime crowds that weaved their way in and out of casinos. Brightly lit signs announcing “We Comp 25 Cent Slot Players” warred with others proclaiming “All You Can Eat Buffet.” Signs overhead advertised casino shows in a blaze of moving color and flashing lights. Boisterous laughter filled the air along with the occasional screech of tires and honking of car horns.

Strolling the Strip at night was like attending a perpetual party. Something she didn’t like. The hyped-up energy overwhelmed her.

“You were right,” he said, returning to her side. “The shoe didn’t contain a clue.”

“Now what?” Dread once more filled her.

“I don’t know.”

“There’s a second shoe,” she suddenly announced.

“What?”

She rubbed her forehead and thought about what she’d just said. “In my vision I remember seeing someone removing both of the little girl’s shoes.”

“So there could be another shoe clue.”

“Shoe clue, very funny.” The thought of the man touching Polly, even if he wasn’t molesting her, sickened Angie. “We don’t know where he’ll leave this shoe clue.”

“You’re the one with the answers.”

“What answers?” She studied him for a minute. “You can wipe that expectant look from your freckled face. I haven’t experienced more visions, nor have I felt his presence. I don’t think he’s here this time.”

“I think he is and so do the Feds. They’ve been monitoring the crowd. They suspect he gets his jollies from watching us scramble for clues, and I think they’re right.”

“You’re agreeing with Dunning? That’s a first.”

“I’ve written enough about crime to know that criminals like kidnappers and serial killers take perverted pleasure in observing the results of their actions.”

She shook her head. “I’m tired of playing his game.”

“We can’t let Susan’s little girl die.”

The tone of desperation filling his voice surprised her. She harbored a reason to be desperate. They were talking about her granddaughter. Was there something more than Tucker’s son’s death haunting him?

****

Look at them, he chuckled. Feds, media, and the victim’s mother all clustered around a stupid shoe. What did they think they’d find? A note? A hint from him to the location of his victim? The shoe was as empty as their brains.

Didn’t they know it wasn’t time to give them another morsel of information? He’d made the waiting game his stock and trade. From experience, he knew waiting always brought better rewards. However, he needed to curb his own impatience.

He studied the young mother, a pathetic woman, not much more than a child herself. Collateral damage might not be avoided in the pursuit of the final prize.

He pushed the baby carriage along the street in front of the casino walking past all of them as he did. Fools, you’re all fools, he thought, fighting not to laugh in their faces.

Chapter Nine

Tuesday night

Brian wedged his sports car between a white van and a red SUV. “Tight fit,” he muttered.

“Good thing you drive a small car. You’re lucky you found a space.”

She unbuckled her seat belt and got out of the car. He did the same. “You could drop me off. You don’t have to escort me to my front door,” she said, annoyed that he insisted upon being with her wherever she went. She needed space to think, and he wasn’t giving her any. He said he wanted to protect her. Her growing attraction to the man made it difficult to remember he was a newspaper reporter first, her protector second.

They skirted the complex’s swimming pool. People who’d been enjoying an evening swim left the pool as distant thunder rumbled.

“Looks like we’re in for another soaking.” Brian glanced up at the sky as they climbed the stairs to her apartment. “There seem to be more tropical storms from Mexico this year.”

“Well, the saving grace is that they blow through quickly,” she said.

He took the key from her and opened the door. As he handed the key back, her apartment phone rang. She started to rush inside, but he stopped her. “The rule is I go in first, remember?”

“But the phone. It could be him.” Not that she wanted to hear the bastard’s creepy voice, but they needed more clues.

By the time he reached it, the ringing stopped. The caller didn’t leave a message.

“Shit,” she muttered. “We missed him.”

“Angie, you don’t know it was him.”

“I sensed it was. I’m sure he’s got my home phone number. He has all my other personal information.”

“If he wants to get us a message, he will.”

“But…” Her voice trailed off. She was coming unglued.

“Shh,” he said, his breath brushing her face. He gently stroked the side of her cheek. She stepped away before he could kiss her. She wouldn’t pursue the chemistry sparking between them.

She’d never been lucky with men. When she trusted them, they betrayed her. In a family full of boys, she’d been daddy’s little girl. She thought her father loved her beyond question until the day he’d announced the devil possessed her. When she’d become pregnant, he’d swept her out of the house like unwanted dirt.

Then there’d been her first romantic love, Susan’s father. For him, their summer romance had been a fling, another notch in his belt before he went off to college. For her it was much more. She’d also trusted the man she eventually married, too blind to see how manipulative he was.

Then there was Brian. He’d betrayed her when he’d written those articles.

Her phone rang again. He started to reach for it, but she intercepted the call. Her heart skipped a beat when she heard the eerily disguised voice at the other end.

“It’s him,” she mouthed, holding the receiver so he could listen in. The woodsy scent of Brian’s aftershave made it difficult to concentrate.

“Did you like my latest clue? The little girl’s mother apparently didn’t.”

He’d been at the casino close enough to witness how upset Susan was. But again she hadn’t sensed him lurking nearby. Was Brian right? Did the kidnapper possess the power to mentally block her?

“There’s no clue, you bastard,” he yelled, momentarily grabbing the phone from her.

Angry at his outburst, she grabbed the phone back.

“Not everything in life comes easy,” the kidnapper said. “Sometimes you must work hard for it. Patience is a virtue, I’m told.”

His wicked laugh sent chills dancing down her spine. Damn him! She needed to latch onto something about him, visualize where he was, where he’d hidden her granddaughter. The fact that she couldn’t was frustrating.

“Remember, the clock is ticking. Soon the kid will be gone. And, Angie, you’ll only be able to blame yourself. You’re the one with the knowledge, or are you?”

Again his wicked laugh made her cringe. With this the line went dead.

“What was that all about?” he muttered. “You can’t let him bother you.”

“I know that. You don’t need to keep reminding me,” she snapped, dragging her hand through her tousled hair. “We’re not getting anywhere.”

He studied her a moment, a smile spreading across his face.

“What the hell is there to smile about?”

“I’m smiling because you finally used the word ‘we’ in referring to the search for Polly. That means I’m gaining your trust again.”

“In your dreams, Murphy.” She began to walk away from him, but he grabbed her arm and spun her around.

“I hope I’m in your dreams, Angie. That’s where I want to be.”

Ignoring his comment and the intensity of his passion-filled gaze, she focused on the phone call. “We need to talk about what the bastard said just now. Something about working harder to find the clue.”

She dragged her hand through her hair again brushing it back from her face.

“Brian.” His name came out in a whoosh. What followed nearly bowled her over. One minute she was talking with him and the next a dark, menacing cloud overwhelmed her. Blinded, her knees buckled and she sank to the floor, her breath coming in short gasps. The blanket of hatred nearly suffocated her with its overpowering presence.

“Angie!” he yelled.

Her vision cleared enough to see him kneeling by her side, concern furrowing his brow.

“What’s wrong?”

She fought to catch her breath. “He’s close by.”

“Where? Do you see him?”

“No.”

A loud clap of thunder boomed, rattling the windows. The lightning strike that followed lit the room in intense white light.

Then the room went dark and she screamed. “I can’t see.”

“Neither can I,” he said, fear tingeing his words. “The power’s out. That last bolt of lightning hit a transformer or substation.”

He fumbled in his pocket and produced a small flashlight. “Can you get up?”

“I think so.” He helped her to her feet and she clung to him.

“You’re trembling.”

“It was awful,” she gasped. “He seemed to momentarily possess me.”

“You need to be strong, fight him. You can’t let him take you like that.”

She nodded, too upset to do anything else.

“We’re leaving. With the lights out and the bad guy lurking nearby, you can’t stay here.”

They heard a loud squawk followed by the flapping of wings.

“The bird,” she whispered. “He’s in his cage, but could hurt himself.”

“I’ll check on him. You stay put.”

A few minutes later he returned from her bedroom. “I whistled at him. He hissed at me a few times then settled down. I covered him.”

“Good. Rita’s got a key to my place. She can watch him.”

“I’ll call her,” he said.

“Okay,” she whispered, still weak and shaken from her latest ordeal.

With his arm around her waist, he ushered her from the apartment down the stairs, the narrow flashlight beam guiding their way. Raindrops peppered them as they ran for his car. He gently helped her into the passenger seat, and got in the driver’s seat.

“There’s one good thing working for us,” he said, looking ahead as he started the engine and turned on the headlights.

“What?”

“The white van’s gone, so I can get out of the space more easily.”

“That’s good.” She laid her head back on the seat, too exhausted to say more.

****

He couldn’t believe he’d talked her into it. First, she refused to go to his condo, but she’d been too tired to argue much. When they’d arrived, he’d handed her a towel and shot of brandy. She sank onto the couch, wrapping the towel around her, but didn’t touch the brandy. She sat in silence for some moments without speaking, her eyes closed.

“Angie?” He was worried about her. What had just happened unnerved him.

She finally opened her eyes and looked at him. “I’m okay. I know. I can’t let him get to me, but it’s the first time I’ve experienced something that intense.”

She rubbed her arms and looked toward the window. “Has it stopped raining?”

He walked over to the window. “Yup. The sky’s begun to clear. Your neighbors can go swimming again.”

“Swimming sounds like a good idea,” she said, getting up and joining him at the window.

“What?”
With all she’d been through, she wanted to go for a swim?

“I can’t think about what happened right now. It’s all too upsetting. If I relax and clear my head with a swim, I might be able to think more clearly.”

He couldn’t believe what she proposed, but he was game. “You’re in luck. There’s a pool on the top floor and my friend’s bachelor pad comes complete with women’s bathing suits in a variety of sizes.”

“Good.”

Brian retrieved his swimming trunks and watched Angie go into the bedroom to check out the bathing suit collection. When she returned to the living room, the red bikini she wore nearly undid him. She was a knockout fully clothed, but the bathing suit further enhanced every lush bodily curve. His bathing trunks did little to hide his instant arousal. Did she have any idea what she did to him?