Dangerous Attraction: Part One (Aegis Group) (3 page)

She hung up the phone and leaned forward, planting her elbows on her knees. They were supposed to be shopping today for presents. Bliss had even planned to coordinate with Priscilla to make sure the house got decorated and presents wrapped so Wendy didn’t feel the crush of organizing it herself.

What if she never saw her sister again?

Wendy sat with her back to the wall of the cave. Metal bars blocked her path out of the cave or farther back into the rocks. It wasn’t wide, maybe ten or twelve feet across. The bottom was smoothed out. A few rugs and pieces of furniture took up the rest of the space. It was a far cry from the Vegas mansion her husband built for them following their wedding, but at least there was no draft. There was also no light unless Daniel came back.

Her
husband
.

She shuddered and squeezed her eyes shut. The darkness spun around her, and she pitched sideways, landing on the soft, inviting bed.

Wendy scrambled to her feet and backed toward the cave entrance. She couldn’t touch the furniture. For a brief period of time when the lights overhead had illuminated her prison, and she did her best to take stock of what was there. That was when she found them. Three pairs of women’s panties stashed under the mattress. All different sizes.

Grayson was her husband, not this crazy psycho. Grayson, who she loved. They had a baby together. Paul.

Oh, Paul.

Her heart clenched and in that moment, she’d have given anything to hold her baby. Anything at all. She never wanted something so bad before, and now it might be too late. Her previous baby boy.

“Hey. Hey.”

She pressed her hands over her ears, willing the voices to go away. She couldn’t handle them. Their smell. She couldn’t even deal with being there.

“Where did Linda go?”

“He killed her.”

“Are you sure? She said, but Linda said there were others before us. I mean, I just thought he kept the women a long time.”

“What do you think?”

“Is she Linda now?”

Wendy squeezed her eyes shut. The three men were in smaller cells behind hers, which meant that in order for Daniel to get to them, he had to go through hers. She could smell the men, or maybe it was their bandages. Was that her fate? What was going to happen to her? Would he chop off parts of her like he’d done to them?

She didn’t dare attempt an escape, not when he’d kill her baby.

Travis was far too big to fit in the only unoccupied booth in the café. He didn’t dare suggest somewhere farther from the PD for fear the woman across from him might faint or cry or something. She’d seemed on the brink of falling apart outside, but she’d rallied and followed him to the café without so much as a tear.

“Here’s your coffee. Can I get you anything else?” The waitress deposited a carafe on the table along with cream and sugar.

“No, thank you,” he replied.

The woman across from him shook her head. Her shoulder length brown hair swished around her face, all glossy looking. For some crazy reason he wanted to touch it. To run his fingers through her pretty hair and see if it felt as soft as it looked. He kept his hands to himself. Girls like her didn’t need men like him in their lives.

“Bliss, right?”

She nodded her head, sending those strands moving again.

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t introduce myself did I? I’m Bliss Giles.” She cupped the empty ceramic mug with both hands.

He picked up the carafe and poured her some coffee first, then himself. This wasn’t his thing. He didn’t deal with clients, he wasn’t the person to offer comfort or hope. His history hadn’t wired him that way, but for her he’d try.

“Tell me about the last time you saw your sister. Do you mind if I take notes?”

“You said you’d tell me what happened to the other women.” Her dark brown eyes focused on him. She was no longer on the verge of tears or lost in thought. He kind of liked being the center of her focus.

“You don’t want to know that.”

“Yes, I do. And I want to know why you think my sister might be one of them.” She tapped the photograph of Wendy he’d laid on the table.

The two sisters couldn’t be more different. At least on the surface level.

Wendy was petite, blonde, and almost breakable looking. Bliss was shapely, luscious, and that dark hair set off her pale, perfect skin. The one thing the sisters shared was their dark brown, almost black eyes. He’d heard someone call eyes that dark soulless eyes, but looking at Bliss, that sentiment couldn’t be further from the truth. It was the intangible quality the camera captured that he’d seen in the other victim’s photographs pre-death. A light. An inner brightness. This killer snuffed out truly bright flames, and for what?

He was going to find out.

“Tell me.” She leaned closer.

He’d have to give her the Cliff notes version. What would he tell his sister?

No, that was a bad gauge. His sister kept a living collection of TBK documents and coverage. He’d likely tell her everything, because they’d lived through worse.

“Over the last seven years nine Las Vegas women, all blonde, have gone missing. They turn up between a couple months to a year after they were abducted. Dead. About twenty-four hours after the time of death, another girl is taken.”

“What aren’t you telling me? I could find that out for myself.”

“Some things you don’t want to know.”

“I have a right to know. That’s my sister.”

“Then tell me about the last time you saw her. Let me find her.”

“I want to know what you aren’t telling me.”

She was a stubborn little thing.

Travis cleared his throat and made himself relax. Their knees bumped under the table and she shifted, bumping into his other knee. Her cheeks tinged pink, and she finally looked away from him. Interesting. She’d challenge him, but a little knee bump was too much? Women were a mystery.

And better off far away from him.

He had no business thinking about Bliss that way. He was a felon. There was no place for a woman in his life.

“When was the last time you saw Wendy?” He picked up his pen. As fun as it was to share coffee with a pretty girl instead of Ethan’s ugly mug, this was about life and death.

“Yesterday, around five. I left work and stopped by her place to check on her.”  She tore open sugar packets one at a time and upended them into her coffee. Her fingers were small, nimble, with nails in three shades of purple. The bangles on her wrist clanged and chimed as she moved, drawing his attention back to her smallest movement.

“Check on her? Was something wrong? Did she tell you anything?”

“Wendy...” Bliss bit her lip and glanced out of the window, tucking her hair behind her ear. There was a small tattoo there, partially hidden. It made him wonder if there was more ink on her body. Not that it was any of his business. “Wendy has post-partum depression. Her in-laws are babysitting Paul while her husband is out of town. They’re looking for a nanny to take care of him. Well, both of them, really. She’s been very out of sorts since his birth.”

“She just had a baby?” He swallowed.

Fuck.

“Yeah. Why? Is that important?”

“Is the baby missing?” His gut rolled, and he gripped the pen so tight the plastic buckled under his fingers.

“No, he’s with his grandparents.”

“Poor kid,” he muttered. “Did she say anything about seeing anyone? Someone following her? Anyone giving her the creeps?”

“No. Wendy barely leaves the house unless someone makes her. The depression is really bad.”

“Have you been to her house?”

“Yeah, she was supposed to meet me this morning, but she didn’t show, so I went to get her out of bed. The house is perfect. Clean. The beds all made.”

“Could she be at a hotel or somewhere?”

“I don’t think so. If Wendy didn’t have to leave the house, she wouldn’t. This depression, it’s bad. If we didn’t make her eat, she would starve.”

“Could I take a look at the house? I might see something you don’t.”

“What’s so bad you won’t tell me?” Once more, those dark eyes focused on him, compelling him to share the worst of it with her.

“We’re going to find her before that’s an issue.”

What the hell?

He couldn’t promise her that, and yet he just had.

B
lood.

The stone below the bed was stained with blood.

Wendy gripped the bars as her stomach revolted. Bile coated her mouth, and the muscles in her abdomen and chest tensed in irregular rhythms. Dying might be less painful.

“Lady, hey lady, you got to calm down.” Stumpy was in the cell right behind her. He only had one foot. The other leg was mostly gone.

“Take a deep breath.” That order came from the old one. He sat on the floor, never moving out of his pile of rags.

The lights were back on, which wasn’t much of an improvement. It illuminated the horrors her mind had created, making them real. Like the blood.

“Is he going to kill us?” she asked.

It was the first time she’d spoken directly to the men.

“Us? Probably,” Stumpy said.

“Why?” Her knees gave out, and she sat down with her back against the bars drilled into the stone and faced her fellow prisoners. For the first time in months, she wanted something.

She wanted to live.

Depression had clouded her judgement and sucked the life out of her for so long, she forgot what it was like to feel. Emotion swirled within her. Sorrow at never being able to hold her baby and love him like he deserved. Her beautiful, miracle baby. Regret at not answering the phone when Grayson called the night before. He was so patient with her. She didn’t deserve the kind of life he’d given her. Shame for leaning on her sister so much. Bliss practically managed Wendy’s life, and for what? Wendy was so selfish and wretched she couldn’t even say thank you. So many things.

“You don’t want to know.” Stumpy smiled at her. It was a sad expression. Under the dirt and flecks of blood he had a kind face, sort of boyish and round.

“Us he’ll kill. You, he’ll rape until you’re pregnant, and keep you locked up until you give birth.”

Wendy stared at the old man. Was he serious? She pressed her knees together. It had taken her four years to get pregnant with her husband, whom she loved and adored.

And now some sicko wanted her to give him a baby?

“Hush, don’t tell her that,” Stumpy snapped.

“She needs to know. If Linda was right, we’re next. He’ll clean house so she doesn’t know anything. She needs to know.”

“Oh God.” The tears trickled down her cheeks.

Stumpy used the bars to hop-walk his way to the corner. He knelt and whispered something at the older one. There was a third behind them, but she hadn’t heard more than moans coming from his cell since earlier. The two spoke in hushed voices.

Wendy wasn’t going to survive this. She’d never been strong like her older sister. If Bliss were here, she’d be halfway to figuring out how to break the iron bars. The very least Wendy could do was stay put. Ensure that Bliss, Grayson, and Paul got to keep living. That was the bargain she’d made Daniel. If she kept up her part of it, he’d let them live.

“Hey, look at me.” Stumpy crouched down, peering at her from across the cave. “What’s your name?”

“Wendy,” she replied.

“Robert is right.” Stumpy put his forehead against the bars. “Daniel’s probably going to kill us. Our only hope is to pass the story along, the one Linda told us. Do you think you can listen? Can you remember it?”

“Do I have to?” She shuddered. The last thing she wanted in her head was a gruesome story about her captor.

“There’s not much time.” Stumpy glanced behind him. “That one’s dying. I’ve still got my leg and both my arms left, but he’s going to take those soon.”

“He cut your leg off?” Wendy gaped in new horror.

“He started with my toes.”

“Oh, God,” she chanted and covered her face.

“I have a family. They probably aren’t looking for me, though. I was an addict, couch hopping. No one cares about me, but I’d like my family to know what happened.”

“Why are you telling me this? If I die, too...”

Robert leaned toward her. Part of the blanket fell away and she realized...his arms were gone. “Girl, someday one of us will live, and that one has to know the story, so we all live beyond this nightmare.”

She wanted to be the girl who lived, but she wasn’t that strong.

Bliss led the way up the walk to Wendy’s Las Vegas house. Or mansion. The place was big enough to fit her apartment in the entry alone.

“Have you considered this is a ransom job?” Travis asked.

“That was my first thought when I saw you, actually.” She fit the key in the lock. “You should know, I have zero access to their money. I’m the poor one of the family.” She meant it as a joke, but it fell flat. Her living might be modest, but she didn’t want for anything. Okay, so she wanted a hunky guy, but she could get that on pay-per-view.

Travis did that thing again—she could feel him looking her over, but now, without the sunglasses, she knew just where his gaze lingered. There was something about it that made her pulse jump.

It had to be the coffee.

“If someone wanted money for her, you’d have heard from them by now.”

“What exactly is it you do? Why does a PI work ransom cases?” She slid the key into the lock and twisted. The door swung inward, and she stepped over the threshold. The alarm beeped at her, and she left Travis to close the door while she entered the code.

“Was the alarm armed this morning?” Travis closed the door and spent a moment flipping the locks and studying the frame.

“Yes.”

“Any security cameras?”

“No, but the security office should have some. Grayson was adamant they only build in a gated community with real security.”

“What does Grayson do? Any enemies?” He slowly walked a circle, his gaze traveling all over the foyer, up the stairs to the second level.

“He designs buildings. Big ones.”

“Where is he now?”

“He’s hitting three or four big meetings all over the place. Chicago. New York. London and...Mexico City? His company is putting in bids, and he has to go present designs or whatever it is they do. Why? You think it’s connected to him? I thought you said it was this other guy.”