Seeing Red (23 page)

“Yes. One of the girls from Craig Mahoney’s office.”

Mahoney was a defense attorney, an adversary in the courtroom but a friend in life. They often joked that they would spark a good sitcom.
The Proscutor and the Defense Attorney
, the lawyerly version of
The Odd Couple
.

Lorne went into his office and closed the door. Inside the envelope was a handwritten note.

Lorne,

Heard something you might want to check out. A newspaper reporter from Belle Island named Carr is making the rounds, trying to get someone to present a petition to the court on behalf of Hollis Alexander for new DNA analysis and access to evidence. Can’t imagine anyone will take it on. But he’s making nonspecific accusations about misconduct and withheld information during discovery.

Doubt anyone will listen to him but thought you should have a heads-up.

Craig

Why in God’s name did Wayne Carr keep after this? It was clear after this morning that Alexander was a pervert
and
a murderer.

Lorne crumpled the paper in his hand. He squeezed it as if he could crush the life out of the words.

Then he spread it back out and ran it through the shredder beside his desk.

Nate stood in the hospital corridor, just outside Bill Greene’s room. Ellis had gone in alone. Knowing Greg Reinhardt was in there, Nate felt it prudent to stay on this side of the door.

Besides, he needed some time to himself. He’d been concerned about outside complications interfering with this situation with Ellis. But he’d never expected those complications to be initiated by someone in Belle Island.

Nate had invested too much to let his world unravel now. No matter what, no one here could know the truth of what he did.

His cover was solid; the likes of Greg Reinhardt certainly didn’t have the sophistication to break through it. But, damn, Nate had hated the look in Ellis’s eyes when he’d refused to explain.

He leaned against the wall. Closing his eyes, he let his head fall back.

Ellis had said she trusted him. He had to protect that trust. She’d always looked at him with eyes that said she thought he could do anything. He liked the idea of being her knight in shining armor. But he couldn’t allow her to lift that visor and see the man beneath the metal.

For a single moment this morning, she’d eyed him like a threat. God, that had cut deep. But the truth was he lived in a world of liars and thieves, killers and outcasts. He
was
a threat to her—only in ways neither she nor her uncle could ever imagine.

“Nate?” Ellis’s voice was soft, concerned.

His eyes snapped open.

“Are you all right?” she asked, laying a hand lightly on his arm. “You look funny.”

“I’m fine,” he said. “How’s your dad?”

“In pain. Grouchy. Uncle Greg is driving him crazy. Mom wants us all to leave for a while so he can get some rest.”

They headed toward the elevators. Nate started to settle his hand on the small of Ellis’s back—a gesture of possession.

Then he remembered what he was and withdrew it.

Ellis sat in the passenger seat of the Hummer, guilt nibbling at the edges of her consciousness. She’d been shamefully relieved when her mother had asked them all to leave the hospital.

Even though Ellis’s dad hadn’t been swayed by Greg’s accusations concerning Nate, it hadn’t kept her uncle from making the occasional stab at trying to convince him. Even with Nate remaining outside in the hall, there had been enough tension in the room that even the nurses seemed to notice it when they’d come in to record her father’s vitals and administer medication.

Lulled by the vibration of the passenger window against her temple, Ellis was nearly asleep when she heard Nate open the driver’s window.

Rousing, she was surprised to see they were already at the gate to her complex. She looked past Nate and waved to the security guard.

Sam, the day security man—boy, really—smiled at her. “Ms. Greene.”

She suspected Sam had a crush on her. Or perhaps he seemed to straighten his shoulders to display his pecs when she saw him, because she was one of the few women under sixty who passed through this gate on a regular basis.

It had never made sense to her that young and beefy Sam was the day guard and the old guy took the graveyard shift.

Nate said, “Would you please call Ms. Greene to inform her if there are any repair vehicles or deliveries that come through?”

Sam leaned closer, looking at Ellis across the wide expanse of the Hummer’s interior for confirmation. Apparently, Nate didn’t have the proper authority to make such a request.

“Yes, please do. With the murder and all . . . ”

Sam nodded. “Good thinking, ma’am.” Then he looked at Nate again. “We only allow nonresidents through, even deliveries and repairs, once they’ve been cleared by a resident.”

Nate said, “Just the same, please notify her.”

Sam stiffened.

Ooh, a pissing match. Just what she needed.

Ellis leaned across and smiled. “I
really
appreciate it, Sam. I know I’m probably being overly nervous . . . .” She offered up a weak and defenseless woman to his big strong security man. “I feel so much better with you on duty, especially now, with all that’s happening.”

Sam looked somber when he said, “Thank you, ma’am.”

Nate closed the window and pulled away from the gate. “Dear Lord, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

She tilted her head and batted her lashes.

He muttered, “I hope you didn’t strain yourself with that act.”

“I have to admit, it wasn’t easy.”

He laughed. It sounded like something he didn’t do often.

Ellis looked at her door knocker; she would replace it as soon as possible. The thought of Alexander’s perverted hands touching it made her sick. Had he killed that girl before or after he’d tied the roses on her door?

Her stomach heaved. She swallowed down the bile.

Had he chosen a victim in this town to send her a message?

Her hand shook and the key missed the slit in the lock. If so, would one of
her
girls be next?

She tried the key a second time and missed.

Wordlessly, Nate reached around her, took it from her hand, and unlocked the door.

Once they were inside, he set down the large black duffel bag he’d brought up from the Hummer.

Ellis eyed it curiously.

He noticed her interest. “Tools,” he said.

She inched closer to the bag.

“Don’t. Touch.”

She kept her eye on it. “What kind of tools?”

“The kind that would make your security boy weep with envy.”

She backed away and tried to crack the tension by quipping, “I thought maybe it was your shaving kit and jammies, since you said you’re going to be staying here for the next couple of days.”

He started for the living room. Without looking back, he said, “I don’t wear jammies.”

A little ripple of giddiness cascaded over her. Now there was a picture she’d no doubt spend a great deal of time contemplating.

As she locked the door, she asked, “Are you hungry?” They’d gotten a quick bite in the hospital cafeteria a couple hours earlier.

“No. I’m going to catch some sleep. Once it’s dark, I’m going hunting.”

His words evoked an ominous picture, one that involved those serious and no doubt deadly “tools” in his bag. The reality that Nate was about to hunt down a brutal rapist and killer hit her hard.

She opened her mouth to tell him not to go, to stay here with her and let the authorities catch Alexander. But she stopped. Ellis believed with all her heart that Nate could get the job done more quickly than the police—preferably before Alexander claimed another victim.

She pointed toward her bedroom. “You take the bed.”

He started to argue, but she cut him off. “I can sleep tonight, while you’re . . . out.”

For a moment, he stood there looking at her, his expression unreadable.

“Something you want to say?” She stepped closer to him and waited, trying not to notice that he smelled like a man who’d bathed in a fresh mountain waterfall.

“Yeah, there is.” His tone was grave enough that she almost backed away from him, away from whatever he had to say.

“While you were teaching your class, I also went past the Aragon Theater and checked out that metal scaffolding your dad was on. It’s clear someone used a hacksaw to weaken several of the supports; they didn’t even try to conceal it.”

Her hand went to the base of her throat, and her heart tried to jump out of her mouth. Someone . . . Alexander.

Nate said, “I called the police.”

“Then they can arrest him,” she said quickly. “If he’s been around any one of us, he’ll go back to prison.”

“Not without proof. Maybe the investigation will somehow reveal he was here. Or maybe they can get some evidence from the scene.”

Damn, why couldn’t they arrest him and then investigate?

Of course, she knew that wasn’t how things worked. She said, “You know Dad went with me to every parole board hearing.”

Nate nodded. “Alexander obviously has a plan, and he’s had a long time to work out the details. I need to figure out exactly what he’s got in mind and what his end game is so I can be a step ahead of him. It’s clear he wants revenge. But what does he think will even the scales?”

“You think he’s not done with Dad?” She could barely utter the words.

“I don’t know. I’ve arranged for a twenty-four-hour guard for both your parents. I’ve already called your dad. We thought it’d be best if he informed your mother.”

Ellis was impressed, both with Nate’s protection of her parents and his understanding of how to keep her mother’s anxiety to a minimum. And he’d done it all with absolutely no input from her. Truthfully, that part did rankle. But under the circumstances, she would forgive him.

“What about Uncle Greg?” she asked. “He was at all of those hearings too.” She thought of him out there blundering around, fueled by reckless anger, looking for a cunning and calculating criminal.

“Yes, well . . . It’s impossible to guard an adult who doesn’t want to be guarded. Your dad is supposed to get your mother to work on him. I have a guy I can call in if we get Greg’s consent. I suggested your folks tell him that the police arranged it.”

She gave a nod of admiration.

“So,” she asked, “who are these guys you’ve got guarding my parents?”

“Good reliable people who owe me a favor or two.”

“That was half an answer.”

“Their names are Charlie and Ben. And that’s all you’re going to get.” He looked into her eyes. “You said you trust me.”

“Me trusting you is one thing. This is about my parents.”

“These guys are professionals. Your parents are in the best hands possible. The other choices are leaving them vulnerable or sending them away. With your dad’s condition, moving them will be more difficult, but I’ll arrange it if you want me to.”

“No.” She paused. “No. I’m just not used to having someone come in and steamroll—”

“I
am not
steamrolling.” He said it firmly but without a hint of defensiveness. “Time was short. A job needed to be done. I thought you’d be relieved your parents are safe.”

“Are they?” She studied him closely. “Are they safe?”

He reached out and rested his hand on the side of her neck. “They’re as safe as they can be in the current circumstances.” He pulled her a little closer and stared deep into her eyes. His voice dropped when he said, “But I don’t think Alexander’s going to risk getting caught to go after them. He drew attention to himself with this girl’s murder, which bothers me because I can’t yet figure out why he’d do it. But since he has, he’s going to concentrate on his major goals first.”

“Major goals,” she whispered. “Me.”

His other hand slipped behind her neck, and his thumb caressed her cheek. “Horrible as that sounds, we can work it to our advantage.”

“Bait?” The word stuck and stuttered across her dry tongue like bare thighs across a plastic seat. “Bait,” she repeated. The idea made perfect sense. She squared her shoulders. “If it gets him caught, put me on the hook and cast the line.”

His grip on the back of her neck tightened. “I would
never
”—he gave her a firm little shake—“do anything to increase your risk.”

The depth of emotion she saw in his expression made her heart stumble. She reminded herself that although he cared about her, it wasn’t in the way that was setting off little solar flares all over her body.

“Never,” he repeated the word; it was no more than a breath. And then he pressed his lips to hers. Softly. With reverence.

A supernova overpowered the sun, eclipsing the solar flares with a blinding pure white light.

Still, she held back, returning his kiss with the same wariness she would use to approach a wounded bird. Any movement too quick, any response too strong, might expose the depth of her true feelings and cause him to startle and fly.