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Authors: Lynde Lakes

Set Up For Love (19 page)

BOOK: Set Up For Love
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The doorbell rang—she stood motionless, torn between what she feared, and what she wanted to believe.

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Seven

 

Jill stared at the inside door of her home. The air seemed heavy, the silence paralyzing. Was she really such a coward? An FBI puppet, as Dane had accused?

Perhaps he even had news about Tess. Now she was really grasping at straws, any excuse to justify opening the door. To keep herself from grabbing the doorknob, she balled her hands into tight fists. It wasn’t her boss’s threat of disciplinary action she feared. It was her own traitorous heart.

This was laughable. No matter how quiet she stayed, he wouldn’t go away. She clutched the doorknob and twisted—the door easily swung open.

Dane filled the doorway, and energy radiated from him. His eyes were bright, relieved. A shock of hair had blown onto his forehead.

Overwhelmed by his virility, she stepped aside.

“I was afraid you weren’t home.” His voice was deep with concern. “Have you had a chance to read the journal?”

She shook herself out of her daze. “Some of it. Did you get the matter with Sammy cleared up?” She was still wary that perhaps the two newsmen had conspired on the libelous story.

“He’s fired.” Dane measured her, his expression masked. “I discovered some disturbing things about him.”

“For instance?” She gestured for him to sit down and joined him, sitting at the opposite end of the couch.

“Sammy spent some of his youth in a psychiatric hospital and later in juvenile hall. By any chance is his name in Charmaine’s journal?”

“It’s possible. I haven’t read all of it.” Jill paused. “I had a talk with Professor Mansell.”
“And?”
“He knows you’re a reporter and that I’m with the FBI.”
“Along with the rest of the world. Thanks to Sammy.”

Jill’s mind churned. With the new information about Sammy’s background, he fit the serial killer’s profile better than the professor or any other suspect. In spite of her wariness, she felt her trust in Dane returning.

“I’ve suspected him of being jealous of my news stories,” Dane said. “But to do this...” He shook his head. “Now, I don’t know if he’s an irresponsible, egotistical foul-up, or a clever psycho.”

“We have to find out.” Jill picked up her cell phone, keeping her home line free in case the killer called. She punched in her office number, and ordered a deeper probe on Sammy. “We did a routine check on him,” she said after hanging up, “but there was no reason to dig below the surface. Until now.”

Dane looked smug. “See how helpful the media can be to your case?” He licked his lips. They darkened as though blood had rushed there.

A shiver slipped down her spine. Why did she have this irresistible urge to sample those taunting lips? Would they be as soft and warm as they looked? Her cheeks warmed at her memory of the first time. Suddenly, the stretch of couch between them wasn’t enough to provide a safe distance from this man. She scooted away, and bumped into the armrest. Trapped, she tried for her most daunting look.

“That’s okay, Grayson. You don’t have to thank me now. When I hand you this case on a silver platter will be soon enough.”

She wished she could return a crushing jibe, but at the moment she couldn’t think of anything except how much she wanted him to kiss her.

He picked up the journal lying on the coffee table and motioned for her to come closer. “Shall we get busy?”
Jill didn’t budge; if she moved any closer to his heat, she’d melt.
He grinned and slid toward her until his hip was only millimeters from hers. She sat very still.

Dane opened the journal and allowed it to rest equally balanced across their laps. Jill forced herself to concentrate on the pages written in Charmaine’s loopy style.

“The serial killer isn’t working alone,” Dane said. “There are other sickos helping him distribute the Snuff Videos.”
Jolted, Jill looked up. “How do you know that?”
“One man couldn’t handle the estimated volume of distribution.”
“If one of your snitches knows the volume, he might be involved with the operation. I want his name.”

“I didn’t say I learned this from one of my snitches. Look, I’m telling you everything, holding nothing back. Quit pushing for what isn’t there.”

She leaned closer to him, getting in his face. “That’s my job.”

Dane searched her eyes. “Let’s not waste time talking about our job descriptions. We’re making headway, Jill. Hang in there with me, please.”

The feeling of unity that passed between them reassured her. He wasn’t acting the way Ray said he would. If he’d been involved in the betrayal he wouldn’t be telling her all this. Maybe he’d been straight with her from the beginning, and she’d been so busy expecting, even fearing, the worst from him that she hadn’t given him a fair chance.

Jill felt her heart take a dangerous leap of faith. She vowed to shift her energy away from the negatives of working with Dane and concentrate only on the help he could provide.

He pointed to an address in the journal. “Nevada kept coming up in conversations with my contacts. And look, here it is again.”
“Ellen called earlier.” Jill’s hands felt cold. “There were Vegas calls on the telephone bill that weren’t hers.”
Dane’s eyes sparked with interest.
“I checked the telephone company records,” Jill said. “The calls were made to a video outlet in Vegas.”
“And I found an ad in the computer files for Dark Videos with a post office box in Las Vegas.”

Jill felt her closeness to Dane strengthen. Whenever excited, he used more than just voice and facial gestures to talk—he used his hands, punctuating points with his long, slender index finger as if he were a renowned prosecuting attorney making his closing statement in court. A warmth flooded into her heart, and admiration for him mounted with her excitement.

“There’s a pattern here, Jill.”
“I know.” She flipped to the page with the address of the outlet. “See, the phone numbers match.”
Abruptly, Dane stood. He grabbed her hand and drew her to her feet.
“Let’s go.” Dane tucked the journal under one arm and touched the middle of her back, urging her toward the door.
“You mean fly to Vegas now?”
“Exactly.”

Please, don’t let this trip be a mistake.
With the clock on her sister’s life set on fast-forward, she couldn’t afford a wild goose chase.

****

When the seatbelt sign went off, Jill sighed. Luckily, they’d managed to get on an early evening flight. Jill couldn’t believe Dane had talked her into this impetuous decision. He’d caught her off balance, a state she’d been in all too frequently since meeting him.

Efficiently using their time in route, Jill read Charmaine’s journal aloud. Several of the names matched the ones Dane had bribed from his sources earlier in the day. And there were more references to Las Vegas. Each page bolstered her shaky conviction that the trip would provide the keys they needed.

“Sammy’s name is in here, and yours.” Jill raised a brow. Charmaine had drawn a heart around Dane’s name. “I thought you said your relationship with Charmaine was brotherly.”

Dane took a sip of the white wine the flight attendant had served. “That’s right.” His eyes glinted with wry amusement.

Jill tapped the heart with her index finger. “Was Charmaine clear on that?”

He glanced where she was pointing, leaning so close she could feel his breath on her face. His aftershave barely lingered, but she noticed it and wished she didn’t. Breathing the woodsy scent was too distracting.

“Charmaine got over her infatuation,” he said. “We stayed close though, and counted on each other for moral support and someone to bounce off ideas. But I told you that before.”

Jill scanned the rest of the page, trying to ignore a ridiculous stab of jealousy. “Oh no,” she said. “Tess’ name is in here too. Look. She and Charmaine were supposed to go to a modeling shoot together. In Hollywood.”

Dane glanced at the date. “That’s tomorrow.”

She frowned. “We should be going to Hollywood instead of Vegas.”

“We can do both,” Dane assured her, as the wheels of the aircraft touched down on the runway. “But we’re here now, so let’s handle one lead at a time, okay?”

He lifted her chin and grinned down at her, his lips only inches away. The pleasant hint of wine on his breath pervaded their shared air, intoxicating her. She hadn’t forgotten their first kiss and doubted she ever could. Jill moistened her lips and waited.

When he didn’t kiss her, her cheeks burned from embarrassment and almost unbearable disappointment. The gleam in his eyes told her he’d enjoyed teasing her.
The rat.
She would get him for that.

They rented a Dodge Avenger and headed straight for the video outlet. The store was north of the casino district and proved to be a giant discount store with acres of videos of every kind. Jill showed her identification to the store manager. He was a tall, gaunt man, with ghostly white flesh pulled tightly over his skull.

“Do you know Tess Grayson or Charmaine Du Bois?” Jill asked.
“Nope.” He turned to walk away.
Dane blocked his path. “They’re California models. Does that ring any bells? Both women called this store several times.”
The manager shrugged. “Lots of people call. Names mean nothing to me.”
“Do you carry Snuff Videos?” Jill asked in her hardest hitting voice.
His face flooded with color. He raked his thinning hair. “Do you have a warrant?”
“I can get one,” Jill snapped.

He seemed to shrink before their eyes. “Don’t bother,” the manager muttered. “Look around. I have nothing to hide.” He headed for the back of the store.

Dane and Jill stepped up to the computer and scanned through the video selections.

“Must be several thousand choices here.” Jill typed in
Girls in Jeopardy, Darkest Death,
and other titles she’d run across in her research that suggested Snuff Videos.

“Let me try.” Dane typed in
Babe’s Last Walk, After Midnight
and a few more assorted raunchy titles.

“There is no easy way,” Jill said. “Let’s try a random search.”

After an hour of getting nowhere, Dane rubbed his neck. “Dammit. We know there’s a connection. I suspect someone here ran an ad for models. The address and phone number were in Charmaine’s journal, and both Tess and Charmaine called here.”

“If only we knew who they talked to.” Jill’s throat felt tight. “Time’s running out. We have to get this maniac off the streets. Forever.”

“Forever?” Dane snickered. “How can a Fed be so naïve? With our justice setup? You have to be kidding.” He paused. “You’re not, are you? I can see the lack of cynicism in your direct blue eyes. Honey, you’re in for a rude awakening.”

“Don’t you believe in anything?” she asked, feeling somehow insulted.

“Lots of things, the power of the press, public opinion, but definitely not our judicial system.”

Dane guided Jill back to the rental car. As he brought her close, he said, “Never thought a Fed could smell so wonderful.” She felt the wind playing in her hair. “I envy the wind. I’d like to do a bit of ruffling myself.” He looked like he might kiss her. Suddenly he let her go. “I need to make a call,” he said, “but I didn’t bring my cellular along.”

Off balance, Jill handed him hers.
Several numbers later, Dane gave up. “My sources are out. We might as well grab a bite to eat.”
He shoved the key into the ignition, but didn’t turn it. “Did I ever tell you that you’re a very beautiful woman?”

She shrugged. Maybe sitting bathed in the light from the video store’s marquee hid her flaws. He started to lean forward and then he gripped the steering wheel and she had the feeling that he was battling an urge to take her into his arms. She remembered their first kiss—the way his mouth had forced her to yield to him.

“Don’t take this the wrong way Agent Grayson, but memories of your softness tears the guts out of me.”

“I won’t take it any way. I’m here to find a lead to Tess. Period." Feigning disinterest, she punched a series of digits on her cell phone and said, “I’ll check in with headquarters. There may be new developments.”

He started the car and eased into the bumper-to-bumper night traffic flowing from the business district.

From the moment they’d left the video outlet, he began glancing in the rearview mirror. “With the stream of cars behind us, it’ll be impossible to spot a tail.”

The back of her neck prickled. They were apparently feeling the same discomfort. She felt as though they were in a maze, chasing a shadow, while an unknown evil closed in on them. “Did you notice the store manager’s pallor?” she asked.

“Like a new parolee from cage city.”
“I’m starting to suspect there’s a link to organized crime in all this.”
“I’ve been thinking the same thing,” he said “And now I’m wondering about the lights coming up fast behind us.”
Jill turned and looked out the rear window several times.
“You’re right, I think someone’s following us.”
Plugged into the same brainwaves, her wavering feeling of oneness strengthened again.
“Let’s lose him.” Pressing down on the accelerator and weaving crazily in and out of the traffic, he shouted, “Hold on!”

He maneuvered around a corner. The rental car lifted on two wheels. Jill shrieked. “Sorry, I don’t dare slow down.” Headlights were now close on their tail. They flashed to the next lane.

“Get down and stay down!”

A limo drew alongside, hubcap to hubcap. The darkened windows rolled down. Any moment she expected machine guns to poke out. Sweat broke out on her forehead. Dane pulled ahead.

A blast of gunfire shattered the right side-view mirror. Then the rear window.
Jill drew her gun, but Dane had already left the limo in his smoke before she got off a shot.
“Dammit, Jill. Stay down! Your toy pistol is no match to their firepower.”

“Right.” Using her cellular, she called 911. Help couldn’t reach them in time. Things were happening too fast. They were on their own.

BOOK: Set Up For Love
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