SAFE BY HIS SIDE (MANHUNT) (13 page)

He paused at a shot of Lenora standing beside a grave. Her mother was there, head bent, face in shadows. The tombstone marker belonged to Lenora’s father.

After that, there were very few pictures of Lenora. Had her mother abandoned her daughter in her grief?

Yes, she was not the mother his had been. Maybe they hadn’t had the perfect house, the nicest furniture and meals, but in her own way she’d loved him.

She’d told him that over and over every time she’d beaten him or given him an ice bath.

A car engine sounded outside, and he ducked into the woman’s bedroom. The sound of the front door unlocking echoed from the living room, then voices. Two women’s.

He peeked through the crack in the doorway and watched them.

“I’m fine now,” Lenora’s mother said. “Go on home tonight, Gladys.”

“But what about that madman?”

“Lenora was just being paranoid. He’s not coming after me,” Mrs. Lockhart said. “All the women he kidnapped were young, in their twenties.”

“That’s true,” the other woman said. “But still, I hate to leave you alone.”

“Nonsense,” Mrs. Lockhart said as she strode to the bar and poured herself a glass of wine. “I’m exhausted. I’ll set the alarm and go to bed. I’ll call you in the morning.”

“If you’re sure.” Gladys hugged Mrs. Lockhart then let herself out.

Robert smiled as Lenora’s mother sipped her wine and headed toward the bedroom. He slipped inside the closet and pulled the door shut. He’d wait until she was settled in bed.

Then he’d introduce himself to her firsthand.

Wouldn’t she be surprised that her age didn’t matter?

In fact, she was about the age of his own mother. When he closed his eyes, their faces blended.

“Yes, Mama,” he whispered. “I’ll take care of her.”

Her laughter rang in his ears, followed by the sound of a hard slap as she hit him with the paddle. He was supposed to take it over and over.

His cock swelled at the thought. She liked to hear him cry and beg and scream.

But he was never supposed to come.

He did it anyway. Felt his release building with each slap on his ass. He couldn’t help it. He spewed his cum everywhere.

Of course, she beat him for that, too.

So many times he’d wanted to turn her over and spray his fluids all over her.

This time he would. He’d enjoy his release while Lenora watched.

Then it would be her turn to pleasure him.

Lenora’s lungs churned for air as Micah walked toward the antique trunk. Dank air swirled around her, adding to the threatening nausea.

What if Nan was in that trunk?

Dear God, no…

Micah knelt to examine the lock on the trunk, then yanked at it. Metal clanged against metal, but it didn’t budge.

“I need a crowbar or something to break this lock,” Micah said.

Lenora jerked from her stupor and searched the right side of the basement while he looked around the left. Tension vibrated between them, the clock ticking. If Nan was inside that trunk, she could be hurt. Barely breathing.

Dead.

“Here, how about this ax?” She shuddered at the sight of something dark on the edges that looked like blood.

“That’ll work.” He held it above the lock and swung it down, hacking at it until the lock popped open. Then he tossed the lock to the floor and lifted the lid of the trunk. Images of Nan hurt, bloody from that ax, pummeled Lenora, and she couldn’t look.

“Micah?”

His breath hissed out. “She’s not inside.”

Relieved, Lenora turned around to see for herself. The trunk was filled with an array of items. An old football that had a hole in it. A pair of mud-crusted sneakers.

Boy’s clothing that looked soiled and smelled rotten. A blood-soaked rag. Cloth bandages that reeked.

“Mementos of Simpleton that his mother kept?” Micah muttered.

“If he hadn’t turned out to be so cruel, I’d feel sorry for him,” Lenora said in a low voice.

“How did she die?” Micah asked.

Lenora shrugged. “He never said. He just said he wished he’d killed her.”

“What about his father?”

“He said he left them when he was little.”

“The old man probably figured out he was married to a freak.”

Lenora shuddered. The smell seemed to have grown stronger. “Let’s get out of here.”

Micah lifted his head and scanned the room once again. “Wait. There’s a wardrobe behind that mattress.”

Lenora hadn’t noticed it, but once again terror seized her at the possibility of her friend’s body being inside.

Micah carried the ax over to the wardrobe and hacked away the lock at the top. Dark shadows shrouded the tall piece of furniture as the doors screeched open. Suddenly the rancid odor swirled thicker, making Lenora gag.

“Oh, my god, what is that?”

“I think we just found Simpleton’s father.”

Micah cursed then closed the wardrobe door, hoping to shield Lenora. But when he glanced back at her pale face, he realized she’d seen the skeleton.

He wondered why the house hadn’t been searched during the trial but assumed no one had discovered it.

“What makes you think that’s the father?” Lenora asked.

“Just a hunch,” Micah said. “Father went missing. Maybe he didn’t run off. Maybe the crazy wife killed him, then abused her son.”

Lenora inched closer to the stairs, whispers of ghosts echoing in the silence.

“I need to call a crime team.” He took her arm and coaxed her back up the stairs, and outside onto the front porch.

She walked over to the SUV and leaned against it, obviously needing air. He made the call and explained the situation. “You’ll need to transport the bones back for identification. I want COD and TOD when you get it.” Not that they could arrest Simpleton’s mother since she was dead.

But what if Robert Simpleton had actually killed his father and hid his body in that wardrobe? Maybe the mother’s abuse against her son stemmed with rage over what the son had done?

He decided to look around the property while he waited on the crime team, so he circled the house. In the back, he found a storage shed. He looked inside and found an old rusted lawnmower, a metal tub filled with compost, and various pesticides and poisons.

Had Simpleton been poisoned as part of his abuse?

The hiss of a snake made him freeze, and he slowly backed out of the shed, grateful when the crime van rolled down the hill.

He met the team as they exited the van. Lenora remained by the SUV, her arms folded, as he escorted the team inside to show them what he’d found.

He explained his theory. “I need the body identified, TOD and COD, as soon as possible. Also see if you find any recent prints or blood, and send me the results.”

He thanked them and returned to Lenora. “Come on, let’s go.”

Protectively, he placed his hand to her waist, then opened the car door and Lenora sank inside, her expression tormented.

Nan had been with Simpleton for hours now. No telling what he was doing to her.

Lenora looked exhausted and worried, as if she’d lost her best friend. Unfortunately she might have.

They drove back to her condo in silence, and he quickly searched the rooms to make sure Simpleton hadn’t been there while they were gone. They’d picked up burgers on their way back, but Lenora rushed upstairs to shower first.

Seeing that house had really upset her. He certainly understood.

He glanced out the back window, watching the trees sway in the wind. He found a couple of bottles of beer in her refrigerator and carried them along with the food upstairs, then stepped through the hall door to the terrace.

The fresh air reminded him of his ranch. Maybe he’d suggest they go there tomorrow.

What would she think of his property? The house needed updating, but it was a big homey farmhouse with a wraparound porch that offered an expansive view of the ranch and creek. At night he enjoyed sitting outside, listening to the sounds of crickets chirping and the horses galloping in the pasture. Most folks hated the rain, but he loved the way it scented the air and turned everything a vivid green.

The shower water kicked off, and he imagined Lenora stepping from the shower, all naked and wet and…beautiful. He closed his eyes, willing his libido under control.

Ever since he’d met her, he’d admired her, felt compassion for her. But deep down his feelings ran deeper. She was the first woman he’d ever known who stirred a longing for more than a night in her bed.

The terrace door opened, and he glanced up to see Lenora standing in the middle of the French doors from her bedroom. Her damp hair hung in long wavy tendrils around her face; her skin glowed pink from the hot shower.

She wasn’t dressed provocatively, just a pair of cotton pajama shorts and a T-shirt, but she looked so damn sexy that she took his breath away.

His sex hardened as desire heated his blood, the need to pull her in his arms strong, but he reached for his beer instead.

Anything to distract him from the ache in his body and the longing in his heart.

Lenora’s body tingled at the way Micah looked at her. For a brief second, she thought she saw desire.

As if he wanted to kiss her.

Delicious sensations skittered through her at the thought.

How long had it been since she’d actually wanted to be with a man?

Since before the attack…

She’d wondered if she’d ever want a man again. If she’d ever be normal.

But Micah was different. He was strong and compassionate. A protector.

Her
protector.

He’d stood beside her five years ago, and he was beside her now.

But when the case ended, he would leave…

If ever she wanted to have the chance to hold him, to be with him, it was now.

“I hope you don’t mind, I found a couple of beers and brought them up.”

“That sounds great.” Lenora accepted the bottle, turned it up and took a sip. The cold liquid soothed her parched throat and helped her to relax.

He shifted and looked at the table where he’d set the burgers. “You hungry?”

She was, but she wanted him. Wanted to be in his arms. Wanted him to hold her.

Instead, she nodded, and they sat down and ate. She picked at her food, thoughts of Nan and the bones in the basement taunting her. What if those belonged to another woman? Maybe one of Simpleton’s victims they didn’t know about?

“Lenora,” Micah said softly. “Put it out of your mind for a while.”

“I’m trying,” she said as she sipped her beer. “But it’s difficult.”

He laid his hand against her cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m just glad you’re here,” she said, her voice a little huskier than she’d intended.

His gaze met hers, heat flickering in the dark depths. “I wish I could do more. I want him out of your life for good so you can move on.”

She wanted that, too. Maybe Micah could help her move on. Could help her forget…

Guilt clawed at her. How could she think such selfish thoughts when her friend’s life was in danger? When she might be enduring some horrific torture at that very moment?