Watcher (12 page)

“What do you mean?”

“If you get a package in the mail, or someone calls and leaves a weird message, anything like that.” It made him break out in a cold sweat to know Gleason had his parent’s address because of the burglary. It was only a four hour drive home, and if anyone really wanted to get to him, his family would be the way.

“Jake, is something wrong?”

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“Yes and no,” he admitted. “Just kind of be on the lookout, okay? And call me right away if anything out of the ordinary comes up.”

“I’m not really sure what—”

“I’ve met someone.”

That diverted his mother’s attention quick enough. “Someone?

A girl someone?”

Despite everything, he smiled. “A woman. I’m in pretty deep,”

he admitted, “I’ve actually known her for a year, but just recently got her to finally go out with me, and it’s going really well. Very well.”

Except, of course, for the serial killer stalking them.

Yeah, that was a definite setback to the relationship, he thought ruefully as he finished the call and hung up.

* * * *

“I understand your phone isn’t working.”

Jana glanced up at the timid knock. The repairman hovered just outside her office door, as if he was apologetic over a simple malfunction that had certainly happened before. “Yes,” she said briskly. “It’s completely dead. I just reported it; that was fast. No offense, but usually it takes days.”

He smiled easily. “We get backed up. There are over three hundred buildings on this campus. If you don’t mind, I’ll see if I can figure out the trouble.”

“Sure, thank you.” She pushed back from the desk and stood.

“I have a class in ten minutes anyway. When you’re done, if you would close the door behind you, that would be fine. It will lock automatically.”

“No problem.” He was fairly young, maybe thirty, with brown hair, clean-shaven, and he nodded as she left the room, setting 96

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down his toolbox on the floor. Vaguely she thought she’d seen him before. Well, probably so, if he did repairs around the building.

To say she was distracted during her genetics lecture was an understatement. Thankfully it was the last lecture of the day and she trailed back up to her office with both relief the day was over and dread at the coming evening jangling her nerves.

The police wanted her and Jake to stay at the house like nothing was wrong, even though the alarm company had called to say the entire system was inoperable. Somehow it had been wired so the light still came on to say it was activated, but the actual alarm part was bypassed.

Great.

Jake had also revealed the rest of his conversation with Larkin.

She had been telling herself if she could just put a name to the faceless man in the blue truck that seemed to be ruining her life, she would feel more in control. But it didn’t help at all. In fact, it made matters worse to know he’d brutally killed two women and at least one man.

She also didn’t want him to be smart, or to be a college grad with a hard-earned degree. That meant every time she gave a lecture, or walked into a classroom, she’d wonder if another one was out there.

The door to her office was closed, and though she should be happy her phone was probably back in working order, she hadn’t felt much like talking to anyone all day anyway. She unlocked the door and stepped inside.

Almost instantly a hand clamped over her mouth and a voice hissed in her ear. “Hello, Professor.”

She jerked in resistance, but an arm came cruelly around her neck, pressing painfully against her windpipe.

“No, don’t struggle, don’t do it. This isn’t the right time. He has to be first.” Her assailant shut the door, probably by pushing it
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with his foot. She heard the click of the latch above the sudden roaring in her ears as she fought for breath.

Her fingers clawed at his arm, but he wore a jacket of some kind and she did no damage. After a moment, just when she thought she might faint, the pressure eased and she was able to take in a gasping, choked breath. Instantly he increased his hold again.

“You smell good,” he whispered in her ear. “Like I thought you would.”

Jesus, no!

“What time does Quinn think you’ll be done? It’s so

convenient. You work late, so does he, nobody will think anything if you’re both still here.”

Jana’s head swam, her lungs burning for air. She wanted to scream at him, to ask what he wanted, but unfortunately, she knew.

Rape…murder…her head swam and she made a small

incoherent gurgle that caused her attacker to chuckle.

“You’re going to like it,” he said in a horrifying husky tone bereft of human feeling. “I promise.”

Oh God
…

When he abruptly shoved her to the floor, she tried to roll away but couldn’t because of his cruel grip and the pressure of his much heavier body. She had never fainted in her life, and this did not seem and opportune time, but still her head spun. The very first thing that happened was her assailant grabbed her hair and jerked, pulling her head back.

There was nothing she could do as he pressed something sticky and confining over her mouth.

Nothing.

The bare floor felt very cold as she ineffectually struggled against the horrible twining of some sort of wire around her wrists and ankles.

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* * * *

Jake locked the door to the lab. He could feel the tension in his neck muscles, and his back ached, probably from being so uptight all day. He was actually not surprised that Jana must also be putting off going home. Even with Larkin’s assurances, it felt a bit like being set up as bait. Though he appreciated the idea that police officers—with real guns and real training—would be in the house tonight, he still felt uncomfortable putting her in the path of a homicidal stalker when he could maybe keep her someplace safe.

The protective depth of his emotion was overwhelming.

Most everyone was gone, the upper hallway of the second story deserted. Jake walked to her office and saw the door was closed and the lights out. She wouldn’t leave without him. For that matter, she
couldn’t
, because he’d driven and car keys were in his pocket.

With a frown, he knocked lightly. “Jana?”

No answer.

Then he heard it. A faint sound, a small whimper, that made him go cold and still.

“Jana!” He rattled the knob, and found it turned easily in his hand as he shoved the door open.

The first thing he saw was the spill of her hair on the floor, the dark silky color against the stark linoleum. She was her side, facing him, and her hands were bound behind her back, her ankles lashed together with telephone wire. One shoe had come off and sat next to her, obscenely askew. Sapphire blue eyes were wide, even though there was some sort of tape over her mouth.

She made that sound again, a high pitched protest against the confinement and violently shook her head.

What the hell?

Without thought, he moved to help her, and then even as he started to step into the room, he jerked backwards as he caught the movement out of the corner of his eye.

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The first slash caught him across the uplifted arm of his jacket, squarely in the middle of his forearm, and he felt the blade slice through the leather like butter and find flesh and nerves.

Shit!

Jake pivoted and threw the same damaged arm up to protect himself. The attacker was fast, the space small, and even as he staggered back under the force of another blow, he crashed into the desk.

Gleason—it must be—sprang at him then, wielding the big knife like a club.

He ducked, fell to the floor, and almost landed on Jana, which would undoubtedly have hurt her badly since he probably outweighed her by about eighty pounds.

It pissed him off.

Really, really pissed him off. He was bleeding too, but he didn’t much care, and as his assailant rushed forward, he lifted a leg and kicked with all his might. The resulting crack as his foot connected with the man’s kneecap sounded loud, as did the scream of pain. The man went down almost all the way, catching the side of the desk.

“That’s a start,” Jake gritted out, aware of the blood soaking his shirt and coat as he scrambled to his feet. “You son of a bitch.”

He kicked again, this time catching the guy in the act of rising to his feet, clipping him in the chin.

Gleason’s head snapped back, but somehow he managed to not fall entirely.

He still had that wicked knife and swung it, narrowly missing Jake’s leg. Jake jumped back still trying to not trip over Jana’s prone body.

It was way too small a space for a bloody, murderous fight when he was the one without a weapon.

However, that actually worked to his advantage. He was bigger, faster, and even though he was definitely bleeding all over 100

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the room, he had the added impetuous that the terrified woman on the floor was more important to him than almost anything else on the planet.

Slash, feint, retreat.

Blood pouring from his mouth from the last kick, Gleason came at him again, eyes glazed with hatred, his chest heaving as he lifted the machete.

Without thinking, Jake stepped sideways and swung his fist with every ounce of force in his body.

The result was a terrible crack as his knuckles exploded in pain. He aimed for Gleason’s face but instead hit him solidly in the neck, and the dull sound was sickening. The other man seemed to fold up, and even as his knees buckled, he still tried a half-hearted sweep of the weapon in his hand.

Luckily, it met air.

A moment later, the room was quiet except for the harsh sound of his own breathing in his ears.

Dazed, it took Jake a moment to realize it was over, his adrenalin running so high he could barely stop from taking another shot at Gleason, even though the man was obviously unconscious.

A shuddering breath later, he was able to drop to his knees next to Jana and tug free the tape over her mouth. “Did he hurt you?” he asked, his voice so unsteady he wasn’t sure if she could understand him.

“No.” It was a gasp. “He was waiting for that. Oh God, you’re really bleeding badly.”

He managed a sickly smile. “Yeah, I know. If I can get your hands untied, can you call 911 and ask for an ambulance? I also think Larkin is going to want to hear about this.”

Professor Johnson nodded with tears in her eyes. “Yes, absolutely I can.”

* * * *

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Twenty-nine stitches, a nicked artery, and a broken hand. It could have been worse was the only positive way to look at that news.

There was actually less damage than she had expected from all the blood. Jana sat, rested her head back, and blocked out the bustle around her. She knew a lot about hospitals. She knew a lot about waiting rooms. Though the circumstances were entirely different, the surge of memory was unwanted.

Love made you vulnerable to loss.

Was she ready for that again?

Ready or not, she felt it already had happened.

Jake was out of the emergency room and being admitted

because of all the blood loss. It was just as well they were keeping him because she had a feeling he was going to be in considerable pain, not to mention fairly helpless with one arm slashed to pieces and the other hand in a cast.

“Can I buy you a cup of coffee? The real stuff, not the hospital sludge?”

She sat up a little straighter at the sound of the quiet voice, and saw that Detective Larkin stood there, holding a tray with two cups. He smiled. “I sent an officer across the street for this. The least I could do.”

“That sounds wonderful.” It did, and she gratefully accepted a steaming cup and inhaled the fragrance of French roast with appreciation.

He wearily sat down next to her. “If it is any consolation, Gleason is in worse shape than Jake Quinn. He has a broken jaw, and some spinal injuries they think will probably cause permanent motor skill problems from that blow to his neck. Your boyfriend has a powerful punch.”

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Yes, well, Jake had lived up to his name. He’d been incredible.

Brave, fierce, and in the end, a hero. Yes, he’d been fighting for his life, but he had done a wonderful job of saving them both.

Oh hell, what would happen when the worshipful undergrads found out about this, Jana thought with jaded, tired amusement.

“It was a very ugly fight.” As long as she lived she would never be able to forget the sight of Gleason jumping at Jake as he came through the door.

“From the state of your office and their condition, I’d say so.

I’m just thankful it turned out the way it did.” Larkin took a drink from his cup, and then stared at the floor. “I miscalculated. He killed the first victims in their homes, and I assumed he’d do that again. I knew he’d stalked you at work, so I probably should have put more surveillance around the university area immediately.”

“It’s a big campus, Detective, forty thousand students and hundreds of buildings. If he wanted to blend in, he sure could. The same thing with the biology building. It’s large, and thousands of students go in and out in a single day, in all shapes and sizes. My genetics class alone has over two hundred students.” Jana shook her head. “I think spotting him there would have been a very long shot. He walked right into my office and talked to me and I didn’t know it was him and not one of the real maintenance staff.”

Larkin rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “Maybe you’re right, who knows with someone like that. I never understand it when I hear about these guys, and Gleason is a perfect example.

He’s obviously bright enough to get an engineering degree, not bad looking, comes from an average middle class family, yet somewhere the wiring must be faulty.”

Those moments of pure terror, waiting, tied hand and foot, with a murderer who planned to kill not only her, but also Jake, well…it was too immediate and she couldn’t stand to think about it.