Perfect Victim, The (29 page)

"Don't go there
,
" he said firmly
.

"Four lives snuffed out in cold blood because of—"

"Goddammit, don't do this to yourself."

She stared at him, stricken.

"It's not your fault," he said fiercely.

Addison looked down at the soup, realized her appetite had vanished. ''Why would somebody go to such lengths? What could they possibly have to gain? I don't understand."

"That's the ten-thousand-dollar question." Setting his spoon aside, he slid the skillet in her direction. "Eat. While it's still hot. Then I'm going to see to that cut on your face."

She ignored the soup. "My parents were decent, hardworking people. They never hurt anyone. They didn't have enemies."

''This wasn't personal, Addison." He spoke softly, as if expecting her to shatter if he said the words too harshly.

She wondered if he'd stick around to pick up the pieces if she did.

"I need to know why, Randall. I can't rest until I know why this happened. I can't accept it. I won't—"

"All right," he said. "Maybe your mom and dad knew who your birth parents were. Maybe someone didn't want that information getting out." He contemplated her from across the table. "After a baby is put up for adoption, sometimes the adoptive parents are allowed to meet the birth mother. It depends on the agency involved and, of course, mutual consent. But it happens."

She mulled over the possibility that her parents had met with Agnes Beckett all those years ago. She wondered what seeing a tiny, unwanted newborn had been like for them, if they'd loved her instantly, if they'd been anxious and afraid about taking her home.

She wondered if they'd been murdered for the knowledge they'd possessed. "You've done your homework," she said.

"Crash course on the Internet." He paused. "Did your father know Jim Bernstein back then?"

''They went to college together.” The connection tighte
ned, solidified in her mind. "You think Jim handled the adoption?"

"I'll bet the farm he did."

"There's got to be a paper trail
.
"

"If there is, we'll find it
.
"

Addison stared at him, fear and outrage taking turns punching her
.
"I hate this. I hate not knowing who or why. I need to know who
'
s behind this. And I need to know why. I want them to pay."

"Don't get impatient on me, Ace
.
"

A sudden gust of wind hammered against the windows, driving the snow against the glass so hard it sounded like tiny stones. She started, looked uneasily over her shoulder.

"We
'
re safe here
,
”
Randall said
.

Embarrassed by her reaction, she turned back to him.

He held her gaze, his eyes dark with concern
. “
I won't let anything happen to you
.
”

"I know
,
" she said, trying to ignore the fear and frustration pumping through her
.
"What do we do next?"

"Our first priority is to keep you safe." He slid the first aid kit onto the table between them and opened it
.
'
'
That means you
'
re going to have to listen to me
.
" When she started to protest, he raised a silencing hand. "You're going to have to trust me
.
If I tell you to pack your bags and check into a hotel for a few days
,
you're going to do it without question. If I tell you to stay with Jack or me for a few days
,
you're going to do it
.
No arguments. No questions
.
"

''That's not going to help
us find the person responsible."

"It'll keep
you alive."

"You're hedging. You haven't told me our game plan. What we do next
.
How I can help."

His eyes hardened to cold steel, telling her in no uncertain terms that he was the one in charge
.
''
Trust runs both ways, Addison. I have
to be able to trust you. I have to know you're not going to do something stupid in an attempt to nail this guy
.
"

"Oh, for Pete's sake, I'm not going to do anything to jeopardize—”

"You're letting your emotions do your thinking."

Frustrated and angry, she started to rise, but he reached out and stopped her. "Getting to the bottom of this is going to take some time. Don't get impatient on me."

She glared at him. "Don't hold out on me."

"That works both ways."

She sank back to the floor.

Randall withdrew a tube of antibiotic ointment from the kit and came around the coffee table to kneel in front of her. "Jack's working on gaining access to your adoption records."

He squeezed a small amount onto his finger. "If we can get the file Bernstein was holding on you released without going through the courts, that might help. In the meantime, you're going to have to lie low."

"What about my shop?" she asked, a sudden, wrenching jolt of despair spearing through her.

"Hold still." Leaning close to her, he spread the ointment gently over the cut on her cheek. ''That branch cut you pretty good. Does it hurt?"

She made a sound of frustration. "I need to be at the shop. It's my livelihood. It's not like I'm independently wealthy."

"Someone has declared open season on you," he snapped. "You're a sitting duck at the shop and you know it."

Dread lay heavy in the pit of her stomach at the thought of how drastically her life was going to change. The worst of it was that it wall out of her control, and she was powerless to stop it.

Needing to move, to expel some of the negative energy winding up inside her, Addison rose and began to pace. Her shoulder was beginning to ache dully, its intensity matched only by the ointment stinging the side of her face. "Damn," she said as much from the pain as from the frustration billowing through her. "I can't stand not being in control of my own life. I can't stand it that somebody else is calling all the shots."

Randall rose and crossed to her
.
"The coming days aren't going to be easy. But if we play our cards smart, we'll win this. We'll finish it
.
"

"How can you have so much faith?" she said angrily. "Someone could simply run us off the road tomorrow and no one would ever know it wasn
'
t an accident
.
Just like my parents
.
"

"That's not going to happen," he said fiercely.

"If someone wants me dead, how can you
—
"

"They're going to have to go through me to get to you
.
"

In that instant, something shifted between them. No longer was he the indifferent private detective
.
No longer was she merely a paying client
.
In the span of a second, he'd transformed into a man and she into a woman with emotions and needs they had recognized and unwittingly acknowledged in each other
'
s presence.

"I believe you
,
" she whispered
.

The flickering yellow light from the fire softened the hard angles of his face, easing
the rigid set of the mouth that had kissed her so thoroughly just a few hours earlier. The harshness in his eyes had been replaced with something more elusive and much more unnerving
.
It was desire she saw flaring, as bright and hot as the fire, and she silently cursed herself for acknowledging it
.

Randall moved toward her
,
reaching out
.
She jumped when his fingers encircled her upper arms
.
She
wanted to stop what was about to happen. A tiny voice in the back of her mind urged her to put a stop to the insanity, to back away and try to forget that he was the only man she'd ever met with the power to make her heart pound
.

But Addison held her ground, all the while her body vibrated with anticipation. She sighed when he pulled her against him
.
Her arms went around his neck
.
A shiver swept the length of her when her breasts brushed against the hard planes of his chest
.
The heat of his breath whispered against her cheek
.
The scent of his aftershave titillated her senses
.
Tilting her head
,
she searched out his gaze, found it locked
on hers with an intensity that made her knees go weak.

She murmured his name, wondering in the back of her mind where all of this was going to lead. She wanted to close her eyes, to give herself over to this man who besieged her senses and shattered her resolve.

Before she could take a breath, his mouth swooped down and covered hers. One of his hands went to the back of her head and he deepened the kiss. His teeth clicked against hers. She opened to him, tasted male heat and desire, felt it intoxicate her like a drug. She accepted his tongue, offering her own. Arousal trembled through her. She closed her eyes, shaken by its fierce power, and kissed him back with an urgency that came from a place inside her she'd never dared to explore.

Randall could barely hear the storm outside over the blood pounding in his ears. It pooled in his groin, making him ache with an urgency that verged on insanity. He wanted this woman with an intensity he'd never experienced.

He wasn't exactly sure when it had happened, but he definitely wasn't in control of the situation any longer. Perhaps he'd only been fooling himself to think he'd ever been.

He marveled at the way her body fit so perfectly against his. He was aware of her arms around his neck, her breasts against his chest, her ragged breaths in his ear. He wanted her closer, wanted her beneath him. He wanted to get inside her. The need drove into him like the sharply honed tip of a sword. And he knew he would sell his soul for the opportunity to lose himself inside that pretty body of hers.

But the timing couldn't have been worse. She was his responsibility now whether he wanted it or not. Until he figured out who was trying to kill her, he couldn't risk letting his guard down. Neither of them could afford to become personally involved at a time when they were both at their most vulnerable. That she had no idea just how screwed up
his life was didn't help matters. He hadn't told her about his post
-
traumatic stress disorder. He hadn
'
t told her he would be leaving for D
.
C
.
in a few weeks. Or that he was pretty sure he was an alcoholic
.