Temperature Rising (19 page)

“Yeah,” Jonesy said by way of greeting.

“Can you get some units over to Laken’s block, have them do some drive-bys to look for someone matching our guy?”

“She have another vision?” Jonesy asked. He sounded fully alert.

“Not really a vision, more like sense, a feeling of rage. It was directed at her, and it was so strong it almost put her out.”

“Need an ambulance?”

“No, she’s okay.” Mac glanced down at her. “I’m going to keep her held up in her apartment for about a half hour then take her to get something to eat.” He tightened the arm around Laken’s waist as she leaned weakly against him. Her body still had tremors racing over it, but they had eased.

“I’ll get back to you. Why don’t I get hold of Connie and we’ll meet you at the Fun Center?” Jonesy suggested, his concern evident in his voice.

“Sounds like a good idea.” Mac forced his attention back to the phone. “See you there. Thanks.”

At her apartment, Mac put water on to heat then made a quick call to Dr. Shannon to let her know what was happening. While he waited for her to come on the line, he found a box of herbal tea and fixed Laken a cup. Laken sat, wrapped in a blanket, on the couch. Though it wasn’t cold, she was chilled. He handed her the cup and settled down to cuddle her in his arms.

She took a few sips than placed the cup on the end table and turned into his body, resting her head on his chest. “You’re better than the tea.” Her arms worked their way around him. “I’m surprised you found a mug.”

“It was the only one.” He ran his hands over her back. “I called Dr. Shannon while I was fixing the tea. She agrees he might be watching you. That could be why it was so strong. She warned that you shouldn’t be alone. She believes he will come after you.” He let the words hang for a minute before he added. “Soon. She doesn’t think he’s stable enough to wait. That’s in our favor because it will make him sloppy. You have to stay close.”

“Maybe you could use me to draw him out.”

Mac was shaking his head before she finished. “We don’t do things like that. Hanging you out like a carrot is a good way to get you dead.”

“But—”

“No, that’s a TV stunt. Too many things could go wrong. I’m not going to risk it,” he said adamantly.

“What if he goes after someone else because he can’t get to me like last time?” She pulled back, pain filling her eyes.

“Dr. Shannon and I both agree that’s unlikely. It didn’t work for him last time. He wants you, only you. And he’s going to come to us.” There was no doubt in him.

“That puts you right in the way.”

“And that’s where I’m going to stay.” He left no room for her to challenge his words.

Jonesy called about twenty minutes later to say the drive-bys hadn’t picked up anything. It didn’t mean he wasn’t out there watching. There were just too many places to hide. Mac had been afraid that was going to be the outcome but he’d hoped for the miracle that they would find the guy. A bigger problem then would’ve been if they’d picked him up for matching the description. Currently, they didn’t have enough evidence to tie him to the murders. Still, having a name and knowing who he was would be a big help.

Mac decided it was time to get Laken’s mind off of the situation and add some fun back into their lives. Jonesy and Connie were waiting out in front of the Fun Center when they arrived. Laken was already smiling when Mac came around to get her out of the car.

“Hi,” Connie said from ten feet off. “If you have any delusions that these two are grownups, they’re about to be shattered.”

“Hey,” Mac shot back with mock indignation. “I’ll have you know their Tex-Mex restaurant is pretty good.” He greeted his friend’s wife with a kiss on the cheek. “You just don’t know what class is because you hang around this guy too much.”

“That may be true.” She winked and then turned back to Laken. “This is these two’s stress-relief stop. They come here for the reaffirmation that there is good in life.”

“That’s right.” Jonesy finally spoke up. “It doesn’t get any better than bowling or glow-in-the-dark miniature golf.”

After two games of bowling, Laken’s appetite kicked in with a vengeance, and she learned that Mac’s plea for a handicap, which was quickly shot down by Jonesy, had not been needed. Over a burrito grande, which was no exaggeration, and an endless supply of chips and salsa, she felt more like her normal self. Joking, laughing and falling deeper in love with the man who, in two weeks, had become an incredibly important piece of her life.

Mac smiled over at her when she leaned back and groaned in satisfaction. “I told you it was good.” He waved a chip in front of her nose.

“Not another or I’ll explode. I can’t believe I ate the whole thing.”

“And… I’d calculate two baskets of chips,” he said pointedly.

She groaned again. “Don’t remind me.”

“Haven’t you learned yet, Mac, you never point out how much a woman eats?” Connie shook her finger at him.

“Why? I like a woman with a healthy appetite. It’s the dainty, picky eaters that drive me up the wall. You know most of the time it’s just pretense, and they’re going to eat when you take them home after they waste a good meal that you paid for.”

“That’s what’s nice about getting married. They eat in front of you, and the leftovers she takes home, you get to eat if you get to them first,” Jonsey added.

“Hmmm, never thought about that.” Mac looked at Laken’s empty plate. “Oh well, too late for that tonight. Ready?” He shifted his gaze to her.

“For what?” She looked wary.

“Miniature golfing.”

“I don’t think I can move.” She groaned again but let him pull her up.

“Come on, we’ll make it interesting. Loser has to make the winner breakfast tomorrow.” He winked in challenge.

“You’re on, just don’t mention food again.”

They were tied at the start of the seventh hole when Laken’s ball clipped the edge of an obstacle. The ball ricocheted down a spiraling tunnel of neon lights into a side area instead of dropping down the hole to take it to a lowered platform like Connie and Jonesy’s had.

Mac hooted with laughter, nudging her out of the way to place his ball down. “Watch a pro.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Laken returned.

“He talks so big,” Connie said conspiringly.

Unfortunately, Mac’s ball slid smoothly in the desired hole. He turned, arching his eyebrows. “Breakfast.”

“It’s not over yet,” Laken shot back. “I can still catch you. Just watch the ball come out down there and drop right into the hole.” She sashayed down the spiraling tunnel where her ball had disappeared.

“Maybe I better come make sure how many strokes it takes you to get it in the hole up here.” Mac paused at the top of the slope that dropped to the hole.

Laken turned, walking backwards up the ramp, and wrinkled her nose at him. He laughed again, following the other couple down to the lower level.

****

The smile was still tugging her lips upward when she turned the corner.
Now, where was the ball?
She spied it against the wall, caught in a small dip in the flooring. She stepped to it, eyeing the hole three feet away. She glanced back at the ball, catching a sudden movement from the side. Startled Laken pulled back, throwing her arms up in defense. “Ma—” Her scream that tried to leap out died against the brutal fingers that clamped down over her mouth. A stench of alcohol assaulted her nostrils. A hard, sinewy arm locked over her body, trapping her back against the man.

Laken twisted her head, trying to break free, only to have the hand on her mouth tighten down, digging her teeth into the soft flesh of her lips.

“It’s all your fault.” The words rippled in her mind with waves of fears.

Chapter Thirteen

No
! Laken’s mind screamed.
It
can’t
be him.
It’s
not
right.
Can’t
be him.

Stewart Hoster was the right height, but his looks were wrong. And besides, she’d worked directly under him for four years. She really didn’t like him but had never felt fear. The words tumbled over in her mind as she tried to take in the situation and make sense of it
.
Why would he kill those women? She tried to shake her head only to be reminded of the arms locked around her.

“It’s all your fault.” The words repeated in her ear. “You just couldn’t let things be.” His voice was slurred, filled with hatred, but it brought no fever, no terror. It was like she didn’t even feel him there, as though she was totally detached from the situation. Her mind remained clear and calm. She became aware of voices coming through the spiraling tunnel and knew other people were there. Mac — all she had to do was get free long enough to yell and he would be there.

Hoster, too, must’ve become aware of the approaching people because he shifted suddenly, pulling her toward a shadowed corner where the neon light above it announced an exit. It sent her into motion as Laken felt her first real shot of fear. She couldn’t let him get her out that door. Spreading her feet wide, she pressed her running shoes into the fake turf and felt them catch, halting their motion.

Behind her, Hoster cursed and tried to jerk her to the side to dislodge her. Laken shifted, keeping her feet wide, letting her body drop like a weight in his arms. Hoster had her by five inches, but the motion almost unbalanced him. He tried to lift her, but Laken struggled with her arms, getting enough freedom to jab an elbow back into his stomach. The man grunted in pain, giving her encouragement. She fought harder. Throwing her head back, she caught him in the chin instead of the nose. The blow had her seeing stars but the hand over her mouth loosened. Shaking her head to the side, at the same time she twisted her body, ripping the hand from her mouth as he tried to hold onto her body.

The scream Laken tried for earlier burst over the music and the noise. Hoster didn’t seem to care about her silence any longer. His whole attention was focused on holding her. Laken slammed her head back again. This time she thought she might have connected with his nose. Whatever it was, the man swore, and shoved her into the brightly painted wall. Pain burst through her head. Stunned, her legs gave out from under her and she fell to the ground.

She caught the image of a hand reaching for her, but before it could lock on her it was ripped away. The two men slammed to the wall only a couple feet from her. She got her head up in time to see Mac slam his fist into Hoster’s jaw. The man dropped. Mac drew back his fist to hit him again, but Jones was there to grab it.

“He’s had it.” Jones’ words cut through into her mind as it must’ve Mac’s because he slowly lowered his arm, and with a deadly look turned to her. The anger softened from his face. He dropped to his knees, leaving Hoster to Jones, to catch her to him.

“Are you all right?” The words growled from deep within him as he cradled her head against his chest.

Mac’s heart thundered under her cheek. One hand stroked up and down her back while the other kept her tight. She clung to him but still forced herself to turn her head and look over at Hoster.

Mac must’ve felt the motion because he eased back enough to catch her chin and tilt her head back to look at him. “Don’t worry about him. He’s not going to hurt you or anyone else.” Again anger poured from him, but there was gentleness in his touch as he caressed her face. “I’m sorry. I never thought he’d have a chance to get to you here with so many people. I’m so sorry.” He punctuated it with a kiss, breaking it to tilt his forehead to rest against hers. “You okay?”

“Yes.” Laken soaked in the feel of him.

“You sure? I could’ve lost you. You did great, just the right thing fighting him.” He kissed her again.

“I knew I couldn’t let him take me away.” She glanced toward Hoster, who was still crumpled on the ground. Jones was now talking on his cell phone. A few people were gathered in the tunnel, curiosity plain on their faces. A tremor of fear sneaked over her, and Mac tightened his hold.

“It’s okay,” he said soothingly.

“I’m fine. I just can’t believe it’s him. It doesn’t seem possible. I didn’t feel anything from him. I still don’t, no rage, nothing. And though all I saw at the pharmacy was his eyes, they don’t seem right.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s—” Whatever Mac was going to say was cut off by an officer running through the tunnel with one of the young men who worked there. They were followed a second later by another officer. Laken watched as Jones took the handcuffs from the officer and attached them to Stewart Hoster’s wrists. Her former boss was now fully conscious and shooting arrows of hatred at her, but he didn’t say anything. He remained stoically silent while they read him his rights, only nodding at the end.

The absence of fear or sickness the Hunter normally gave off was almost a shock to her. With him caught, it looked like the nightmares were truly over. Mac stood to talk to the officers, and Connie took his place beside her, wrapping her arm around her shoulder when one of the officers came over to ask for her statement. He was going over details when Mac finished his side of the tale; Laken could see the tension still radiating through him as he leaned back against the wall, eyeing her in undisguised concern.

As soon as the officer stepped away, Mac came forward extending his hand to draw her up into his arms. He hugged her so tightly it forced the air from her but nothing had ever felt so good. She was free from the nightmare. Free to love him.

“I’ll take you to the hospital to be checked out. Then I have to go to the station to make a full report.”

It was Laken’s turn to pull back. “I don’t need to go to the hospital. I’m not hurt.” She could see his objection coming. “Please Mac. I’m okay. Just a couple bruises is all. I don’t want to go to the hospital.”

He thought a minute before he sighed. “All right, you can come with me, but I’ll warn you, I don’t know how long it will take with the reports and questioning.”

“Why don’t I take her back to our place?” Connie spoke up. “You won’t need her anymore tonight, will you?” As if reading his hesitation, she added, “She can get some rest, and I’ll keep an eye on her in case it looks like she needs to go to the hospital.”